#on the other hand she's been wandering for three hundred years it's absolutely believable she could have picked up a few tricks | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

erodasfishtacos · 3 years ago

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~ MLB Curious Gazes ~

prompt: four different situations where people have run into or hung out with MLB!H - told from their perspective.

word: 6k +

warnings: language, mentions of sexual content

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The Doctor’s Office

Aubrey couldn’t believe her eyes as she sat in her uncomfortable, too small chair in the empty waiting room at the OBGYN office in the early hours of the morning.

She was sitting alone with her baby boy sitting in his carrier on the floor - it was his nine month checkup and it was taking forever to be seen.

The woman was sitting, scrolling on her phone when out of her peripheral she saw an extremely - like extremely handsome man step into the area with a carrier.

Aubrey was a married woman but holy shit this guy was hot- without even trying is the thing.

He had on a New York Yankees Nike hoodie and a pair of Nike athletic shorts with some calf length Blake Nike socks and trainers.

In the carrier was a fresh little baby, couldn’t be older than three months who was bundled up with a sunflower headband on.

The man was multitasking with a curly haired toddler on his other hip as he finds a seat a little bit down from Aubrey on the opposite side.

His wife was standing up at the check-in and of course it made sense that she was absolutely beautiful as well even though Aubrey could relate to how tired she looked.

The woman still had a small bit of her pregnancy bump left signifying that the baby was indeed very very new to the world.

She keeps glancing over at the man, he looks so familiar but she would remember if she had even met someone that handsome.

Then the context clues hit her, his hoodie, his toddler son was also in a little Yankees hoodie that matched his fathers and Aubrey googled quickly.

Her eyes flitted throughout the recent articles.

Styles’ Alleged $65 Million Dollar Bonus

Hot Head Harry Styles - how he managed to start three bench clearing brawls in one game!

Breaking Records and Bats - Styles manages to break his own record in the same season followed by breaking a bat in celebration

Holy shit.

She could help but watch them - this was much more interesting than reading a magazine.

Aubrey didn’t follow baseball but Harry had turned celebrity status and was this well known cocky dickhead to the media - women and men loved and drooled over him for his looks and his skills.

Right now, he sat down with his two babies - the boy looked exactly like Harry, it was quite unbelievable from the curly locks to mossy green eyes that was copy and paste.

Harry was currently tucking an applesauce pouch between his lips and guiding the boy's small hands to hold it for himself.

“Good job, ,” He murmurs in the dead quiet waiting room as he tucks him further into the crook of his arm.

Harry looks up to his wife who joins them, she is a bit in awe when Aubrey sees him palm a bit at her bloated belly and whisper, “Y’look gorgeous today, mama.”

Aubrey couldn’t help but frown, she wished her husband did that.

YN sits down, leaning her head on his shoulder - Aubrey didn’t know her but she seems tired - of course she was a new mother.

The silence is broken when a nurse comes out and with an apologetic face says, “I’m sorry, we are running really behind today. It might be another thirty minutes,” before shutting the door again.

Harry kisses his wife’s forehead before wrapping his unoccupied arm around her shoulder, a flashing gold band on his ring finger.

Aubrey zones off for a little when her son wakes up, rocking the carrier a few times before he settles again.

She’s brought back to the couple when she hears a sniffle comes from Harry’s wife and his face turned towards hers, hand rubbing her shoulder reassuringly.

“Mama, she’s so healthy. There’s nothin’ to worry about, did a perfect job growing her in y’belly. I know these check-ups make you anxious but nothin’ is gonna be wrong,” He soothes, a near whisper because of how quiet the room is and he didn’t want to disrupt.

“I just don’t know if she’s been getting enough milk, it’s so hard to tell,” YN replies sadly, like she’s disappointed in herself.

“Y’kidding me? She’s our chunkiest baby - look at those little rolls. She’s on y’tits more than any of the boys including me,” He jokes softly, obviously trying to make her feel better.

It seems to work a little bit because she lets out a light giggle with a roll of her eyes, “No one is on them more than you.”

Harry shrugs unashamed before replying seriously, “Everything will be okay. She’s perfect and healthy.”

The curly haired little boy gets a bit squirmy with the wait after he finished his pouch, asking to be set down which his father does.

Harry is watching him carefully, his nervous but still adventurous little two and a half year old, as he toddles around the waiting room.

When he spots Aubrey and her carrier, he wanders over looking up her with wide curious eyes, he points at her son and squeaks, “Baby?”

Ever the diligent father, Harry is up and next to his son, Aubrey is a bit starstruck if she’s honest when he talks to her.

“M’sorry, he’s a curious little one,” Harry smiles at her, going to pick Ezra back up to guide him away from bothering her.

Aubrey waves her hand though, lifting the visor to show the sleeping baby, “Yeah, he’s a baby. That’s Dominic.”

The boy gazes at the baby before lisping, “Bry!”

Aubrey isn’t sure what he means but his father clarifies, “You’re right, Dominic is a baby just like your little sister Briar.”

“Okay,” Ezra shrugs and goes back to his mom to inform him of what he just discovered before crawling up and cuddling into her chest.

Harry nods, “Thanks for indulging him.”

“No pro-problem,” She stutters like an idiot and Harry smiles a bit like he knows but doesn’t say anything else before going back to his family.

A few minutes later when a high-pitched cry resounds through the room, Harry is carefully cradling his daughter who Aubrey notes looks nothing like him but like her mother even though her features were still so little.

“Shush, darlin’,” Harry coos with a soft drawl, leaning in to kiss at the newborn’s button nose.

Briar roots at her father’s chest, smacking her plump lips, and squeaking in frustration when she doesn’t find a nipple. It makes Harry chuckle before he glances at his wife and his smile falters a bit, “Sweetheart, did y’bring a bottle?”

Aubrey watches his wife shake her head, she is facing away from her so she can’t see her expression but gauging Harry’s it seems that she may be upset, “No, I completely forgot. I didn’t bring my nursing blanket either - I’m going to have to go the bathroom. M’being such a bad mom.”

The observer feels a pang in her chest, she can definitely relate to not always feeling like she is a good mother because of little mistakes she makes like forgetting diapers, buying the wrong formula, forgetting to bring a pacifier.

“Hey,” Harry’s voice is firm, “Y’not going to talk like that when s’the farthest thing from the truth. S’okay, we have four babies, we’re both goin’ t’forget things sometimes, okay? Here, let me help you.”

Aubrey wishes she had a husband who was as empowering, supportive of his wife.

He hands the whimpering baby over to his wife, he’s then tugging off his hoodie. Aubrey tries but fails to divert her eyes when his shirt rides up revealing a glimpse of his taut abdomen and a light dusting of hair leading into his shorts, obscene tattoos covering his hipbones .

Harry maneuvers the hoodie over his wife’s shoulder, helping her tug down her loose shirt and nursing bra, and guiding his newborn to his wife’s breast until she latches and starts suckling hungrily.

“There y’go mama,” He whispers encouragingly before tugging Ezra back onto his lap to rock him a bit as he’s getting whiny - ready for a nap soon and not liking being in an unfamiliar place for too long.

Aubrey is buckling Dominic into his carseat when she spots the other family exiting the office.

Harry’s wife looks much more relaxed, a smile on her face, and her arm tucked around her husband’s narrow hip, they’re parked close to each other, and Aubrey climbs into her small sedan - blasting the aircon.

She watches the parents strapp their kids into a massive, tinted and brand new cadillac escalade that was no doubt over a hundred thousand dollar car but who could expect them to be driving around a mid-level minivan?

After the kids are secured and they close the doors, Harry presses his wife up against it with his arm resting over her shoulder against the window. He is whispering to her, their mouths close before he ducks down to connect their lips.

His hand comes back to her deflating baby bump like he did in the doctor’s office, hand massaging the skin with adoration that was visible even to Aubrey as she sat in her car watching them.

Later on in the week, as she sits on her couch, a video pops up on her timeline. It’s a sports report she was about to skip until the name caught her attention.

The sports reporter stated, “Harry Styles was fined an alleged sixty thousand dollars at last night’s game after getting into a verbal altercation when the second base man purposely tripped him.”

It flashes to the man she just saw in the doctor’s office in a form-fitting Yankee’s blue and white striped uniform with a helmet on as he ran at an impressive speed from first to second, stumbling when the baseman put out his foot.

Harry recovers quickly enough to touch the base to be considered safe.

After that though, he’s pushing himself up and brushing off the dirt, then he’s charging towards the man who fucked up the play.

He has no fear as he gets in the man’s face, veins on his neck standing out as he shouts. They don’t play the audio but you could tell Harry was cussing this man up and down.

It flashed back to the reporter speaking to another, “Nearly every team in the league reports that Styles is an absolute nightmare to play against from his skill to his downright arrogant and cocky attitude. He’s not someone I’d find myself wanting to hang around.”

“I agree with you there, Tucker. He has a right to be proud with all of his broken records and achievements but being a bit humble would do this man so good. I feel sorry for his wife and kids. He probably just spends all day bragging about himself.”

Aubrey clicks off the video, if only everyone in the world just saw the Harry Styles she saw just a few days ago - well they’d all change their minds on what kind of person he is. Especially what kind of husband and father.

The Charity Event

It was a charity event at Madison Square Garden in Time Square.

It was for all Major League Baseball teams who had qualified for the playoffs and of course, The New York Yankees were there.

There were tables filling the whole stadium, extravagant in white linen tablecloths, multiple bars, and it was black tie dress code.

It was a private event and it was not open to the public but after the dinner there would be awards given out and that would be broadcasted.

Nicole was there with her husband, Trent, the left outfielder with an average batting score. He wasn’t the most popular on the team by far - well everyone got outshined by Styles.

She couldn’t help but be a little bitter that Harry had gotten a $60 million dollar bonus (the biggest bonus ever gifted but also the Yankees were not taking any chances at losing their star and their ultimate money-maker). Trent got a measly bonus of $100,000 which was nothing in baseball terms.

The wives and girlfriends of the Yankees players did not like YN one bit. It really wasn’t fair because she was always lovely, kind, and friendly. It didn’t matter because they were all spurred on by jealousy of what she had.

Nicole couldn’t help by gaze at Harry as they sat at the same circle table towards the podium where the awards would be presented after dinner. He was in a sharp all black suit with a small team logo pin of the lapel.

She couldn’t deny how stunning YN looked in an absolutely stunning dress. It was a one-shoulder with sparkling black stripes against a tan background, it fit like a glove and accentuated her stunning legs with a high slit. ***

It blew Nicole’s basic black Gucci dress out of the water which made her even more infuriated at the woman. She knew she was being irrational and if she hated her so much, why couldn’t see stop staring at the couple?

Nicole could get away with it by looking past them at other tables but to be quite honest, the two were much too wrapped up in each other to be aware of any of their surroundings or people watching them.

Trent was off bullshitting with all the other players while the Styles’ sat at the table and Harry waited for people to approach him - like the cocky asshole that he was. He would give them a minute of his time before becoming visibly bored and returning his attention back to his wife.

As the appetizers arrived, Trent finally sat down with a grunt, giving his wife literally no attention as he dug into the salad like a slob.

Across the table, Harry looked down at his plate, picked out all the tomatoes and stabbed them with his fork. He then brought his hand over to his wife who giggled and let him feed her the three little tomatoes for his salad.

“Don’t like tomatoes, Styles?” Henry, third-baseman, jokes as he watches him feed his wife without any shame.

“I love ‘em, m’missus just really like the little grape ones,” Harry shrugs casually - like that didn’t just sound like the most whipped thing that he could say.

Trent probably couldn’t even guess Nicole’s favorite color - let alone know something so minuscule like YN like the little tomatoes that come on house salads.

Throughout the whole dinner, it was quite disgusting how infatuated these two were with each other - Harry had at least one hand on her body at one time - her thigh, shoulder, even cupping her neck in a way that was almost too intimate for the setting.

At one point, Harry notices that YN is a bit quiet - sipping on her glass of water and he pulls back from the conversation, murmuring, “Y’alright, mama?”

Nicole bites her lip hard at the cute pet name, feeling even more dislike towards YN - why couldn’t she have had someone like Harry?

“D’you think the babies are okay? Ezra’s been so anxious lately,” YN replies quietly, there were no phones allowed at the event and had to be left at home or at the door.

Harry kisses her temple, “Y’know Ezzie is good with m’mum, doesn’t get as anxious as he used to at sleepovers. Y’know East and Cash are probably on a sugar high.”

YN nods, agreeing and Harry jumps right back into the conversation but she notices that he keeps looking over at his wife to check on her.

Trent accidentally knocks her elbow hard and just grunts out a bland, “Sorry.”

The topic changed to traveling for games. Ellie, another wife of a player who was nice to YN were chatting about how stressful it is.

“I know, loading all three boys up is rough when we do decide to travel to games with H,” YN says to Ellie, a small smile on her face.

“Ugh, I know. Lily and Parker are the worst flyers! They usually end up throwing up or not being able to nap at all,” Ellie groans about her two little ones she has back at home.

YN let’s out a laugh that just irked Nicole to not end.

“It's going to be even harder when we have more kids,” YN laments like she’s bothered.

“Oh? More kids?” Ellie squeaks with excitement, clapping her hands together.

Nicole reaches a breaking point, jumping into the chat,“Really? More kids? Don’t you think you should focus on the ones you have? Or do you think because your husband makes an unfair amount of money, you can just have as many as you want? Hire nannies and act like you take care of them?”

Before YN frowns, about to respond when Harry interjects with a booming, displeased voice, “First off, why don’t y’mind your own fuckin’ business. My wife and I can ‘ave any many kids as we want, last time I checked.”

He continues with tense posture, all of his previous calmness disappears, “Second off, don’t take it out on my wife tha’ your husband got a shit bonus, we all know tha’ why y’pissy. And don’t act like y’dont have a nanny for your one kid while we don’t nor ever will have one.”

Nicole sneers, “You’re a cocky bastard.”

Harry smiles in faux charm, “Of course I am, dear. I’ve got a fucking beautiful wife, three healthy babies, the most records broken in history, and the fattest bank account in this room.”

“Alright, alright,” Trent interrupts and it doesn’t go unnoticed that he doesn’t defend his wife. Instead he shoots Harry an apologetic look for his wife’s behaviors.

Harry just scoffs at the couple, rudely rolling his eyes, and tugging his wife in for a kiss that’s a bit too intense but he can’t help himself, smiles against her lips when his wife pinches his thigh playfully.

He says (not quietly at all), “All these women are jealous of you, hm? S’cause you’re so beautiful and such a fuckin’ catch.”

Nicole feel a sharp pang in her chest at the indirect comment - fucking asshole.

Deep down, Nicole is unfavorably realizing that somehow YN has it all - a loving husband, who is seemingly head over heels four her, three well-behaved children, and everything she could ever want - sitting on Harry’s $600 million dollar net worth, on top of being gorgeous.

She didn’t have that. Trent and her were on the rocks constantly, has definitely cheated on her, their kid is a literal nightmare, and they’re both so reckless with money they have no savings.

It made her jealous to see Harry whispering in YN ear to make her giggle- lips brushing her ear, his hand splayed across her bumcheek while they waited for drinks at the bar, she even hears them murmur ‘I love yous’ at least twice.

Then the lights dim, spotlight on a podium in the front of the room, an older man in a crisp navy suit taking the stage.

“It is an honor for me to announce ‘Player of the Year.’ The decision by the board of Major League Baseball wasn’t a hard one. The statistics and records broke continuously by the man has led us to only one option.”

Everyone watches all the other players in room deflate a bit because they realize the award is going to Harry yet again.

“He is again breaking a record tonight, he is the first player to earn this achievement four years in a row. The duality of this man when it comes to pitching a curveball or hitting a homer is truly remarkable.”

It makes all the players even more irritated than they already are when they look over at Harry who’s sitting back, manspreading, hand on the back of his wife’s neck gently, and a cocky, unbothered grin.

Like this award wasn’t the biggest accomplishment he could earn.

One of the players from an opposing team at a different table mutters to one of his teammates, “Fucking arrogant asshole. The only thing this award does is feed his gigantic ego.”

“Such a douchebag,” The other agrees, jealousy tinges his voice.

“I’ve most likely made it obvious who the the recipient is this year. The New York Yankees pitcher with the most strikeouts to date and top-scoring hitter - Mr. Harry Styles!”

The crowd erupts in applause, whistles, and a standing ovation because despite his unsavory demeanor - no one could deny he was a legend.

Before he gets up, Nicole watches as he cups his wife’s cheek - locking her lips in a kiss before she has to give him a playful shove when he tries to slip some tongue.

When Harry gets up to the stage, he shakes the hand of the announcer and takes the award from him, setting it on the podium.

“Fourth year in a row has a nice ring to it,” Harry gives the crowd a dazzling white smile that have his dimples digging into his cheek.

The crowd whistles and coos.

Nicole notices YN getting teary-eyed as she watches her husband accept the award.

“I want t’thank a few people tonight. I want t’thank m’wife and the mama of my babies - YN. She’s supported me from when I was in college with no other career path but baseball, unsure of if I’d fail or not, she stuck through it.”

She can sense everyone’s eyes dart over to YN who is still staring up at her husband - who is giving her a gleaming smile right back.

“We’ve been through some really hard obstacles in our first years as a couple but she’s the reason for all this - the fact that she always believed in me when I didn’t believe in myself.”

The audience is respectful, quiet as he publicly tells a story of his deep love for his wife.

“I want t’thank m’three babies. Easton, Cash, and Ezra. They inspire me to be a better better man and a good role model - even though I think y’all agree they won’t be if they watch too much how I play when I’m out in the field.”

The crowd erupts in laughter at Harry poking fun at his own antics that he’s most famous for. He goes on to thank the team, coaches, Nike, everyone on the professional side of career.

When he’s done, everyone stands back up to congratulate him, patting him on the back as he returns to his seat.

Nicole watches as Harry sits back down, chuckling as he swipes a tear off his wife’s cheek, “Why y’crying, mama?”

“I’m just so proud of you. Everything you do for me and our babies. The best husband, best daddy. My heart is just full,” She murmurs, clearly not meant for others to hear but Nicole was eavesdropping.

Harry’s eyes darken with something Nicole can’t identify but does notice his hand creeping a bit further up her thigh.

He leans into whisper something into her ear before she sees his lightly nip at her lobe before pulling back to join into the conversation.

After the lights come back up, Trent abandons her to go shoot the shit with other guys.

When she trails off to the bathroom, down a long hallway from the main area - she hears a rustling from behind a door labeled with a plaque that says ‘executive meeting room’.

Nicole pauses confused, all these offices and other rooms were strictly off limits during events obviously. She was confused to hear someone in a room that was not supposed to be in use.

Then she realizes it’s not just someone - it’s two people.

“S’good, sweetheart. Give it t’me so good.”

And she knows right then and there all she needs to know about who’s in that conference room and what they were doing.

“Be quiet, you’re being too loud,” YN scolds back, the walls were clearly thin because she could hear the exchange.

“Make y’cunt not feel like heaven then,” He remarks back, his voice slower and more soft than it would be in front of people.

God, Trent and her haven’t slept together in ages - let alone has spontaneous hookups or dirty talk like that ever.

When they all end up back at the table before the closing speech for the night, Nicole spots a nicely sized mark under Harry’s jaw that he’s wearing with pride.

YN had her lipstick wiped off and was much more clingy as the night rolled on which Harry seemed to thrive on.

As she and Trent are on their way home, Nicole speaks into their silence, “I don’t think our relationship is working.”

Not after she saw love and happiness at that event table tonight - she wanted that kind of love not settling for some cheating asshole.

The Little League Game

It was a cool autumn evening, it was an important game - if you could call it that for the little league team that Kayla had her son on.

The goal was to determine which team would move onto the playoffs, even though most of this was all in good fun because it was for eight-year-olds and it wasn’t serious.

Kayla couldn’t lie and say that she didn’t spend some of the time curiously gazing at the New York Yankees player who would come to watch his son play.

He wasn’t at every game due to his schedule but it seemed like he came to whatever ones he could with his wife and other three kids.

They had taken the bench on the bleachers right below her so she had an up close and personal view of the family when they’ve never sat this close before.

As the kids warmed up, Harry had his youngest son who looked to be about four sit next to him, squished between his dad and mom happily.

Their middle son was next to his mom on the other side, looking to be about six, and he was wriggling impatiently in his seat - eager to join the other kids in the jungle gym.

The baby girl who looked about a year and a half old didn’t look anything like her brothers - it was obvious that she was a spitting image of her mother (who was stunning).

She was curled up in her mom’s lap, asleep with her face squished against her mother’s chest - a pacifier suckling fiercely between her puffy lips.

“Mama, please,” The curly haired boy begs with greedy puppy dog eyes as he keeps glancing back to look at the other kids.

“You stay right where daddy and I can see you, yes?” YN murmurs, brushing back his unruly curls that where getting long, “And what are our rules?”

“Stay where you can see, don’t talk to strangers, and be nice to others,” He recites perfectly, Kayla was a bit blown away by his manners.

She watches baseball. It was hard to believe their children were so mild mannered when their father was the exact opposite - at least on the field.

Harry was rustling in the diaper bag for something as his son looked at him with wide, concerned eyes, “My baby, daddy.”

“I know, Ezzie. M’lookin’ f’your baby,” His father replies softly, the polar extreme of his normal brash, crude language that had a nasty tone like he couldn’t bother giving people the time of day.

“Daddy, please,” The youngest whines, his little hand grasping at his father’s tattooed wrist as he gets to his knees to help his dad look.

“Left inner pocket,” YN murmurs offhandedly as she makes sure Cash gets to the playground safely with his friends.

��Say ‘thanks mama’,” Harry coos to his son as he manages to tug out the baby doll and hand it to the awaiting little boy.

“Thanks mama,” He replies instantly with a gapped smile as he nuzzles right back into his father’s side as if he can’t get close enough.

“How are you feeling, Ezra?” His mother leans over to ask, keeping the baby close to her chest.

“M’happy, mama,” Ezra replies simply before starting to babble to himself as he plays with the babydoll.

Kayla watches Harry and YN swap a fond look at their son but she couldn’t help but wonder why they asked him that? He seemed fine so why did they feel the need to do that?

The game is going okay, Harry stands up to cheer and whistle when Easton hits a two-base hit but YN smacks his thigh and motions to their sleeping baby.

He looks at her sheepishly before sitting back down, kissing her cheek in apology, and peeking down into the fleece blanket to watch his daughter sleep for a moment.

Then it seems like Easton starts to lose momentum after he pitches two home-runs, his face pinched in disappointment as the other team scores but Harry is attempting to keep him motivated with encouraging shouts.

Easton struggles from then on, he strikes out for his final three turns, doesn’t catch two pop-ups, and his pitches start to get a little shaky. It’s obvious in his facial expression he’s getting upset because he’s breathing heavier like he’s trying not to cry.

Kayla feels a sense of dread for the little boy, his father who’s the best baseball player in modern day history is watching his son not do well during an important game.

Because of what she knows of him from his temper and attitude on the field - she worries that he’s one of those father’s who will hound their kid for doing poorly.

“Oh, c’mon East,” Harry murmurs softly when his son stumbles over a ground ball before another kid picks it up and throws it in - their son smacking his glove down against the ground in frustration.

“He’s getting himself worked up,” YN notes as she watches her oldest kick his cleats in the dirt with a quivering bottom lip.

“I know,” Harry replies to his wife, “Wish he wouldn’t, he’s gettin’ upset out there, I can tell.”

“Sad?” Ezra squeaks, clambering onto his father’s lap and stating, “Hold me, daddy.”

Harry obliges easily, gathering up his small son before his attention is directed back onto the game - it was down to the last few minutes and unfortunately Easton pitched a ball that resulted in a home run for the other team.

“Fuck,” Harry mutters, running a hand through his messy locks before he’s setting Ezra back down on the bleachers, “I’m going to go talk to him. Do you want to meet back home?”

YN nods, leaning down to tuck the baby into the double stroller before buckling Ezra in as well, “I’m going to go get Cash and head out. Why don’t you take him out for some ice cream? I love you.”

“I love you too, mama,” He replies, kissing her softly before kissing both of his kids foreheads and stepping down the bleachers - ignoring all the adults who are staring at him with a starstruck expression as he heads to the dugout.

It cleared out fast, nobody sticking around after the loss that ended with them not continuing on to the championship, and Easton was sat on the bench - he was stoic and there was a hard, angry expression on his face that reminded Kayla of what she saw Harry look like when he played.

As she gathers up her son and makes sure he’s got all of his equipment, Kayla stands and chats to a few of the moms before she’s heading to her car - which happened to be parked next to a sleek Masserati crossover, who would let their muddy kid go in there? Rich people, she guesses.***

Kayla pops the trunk to her van with her key as they get closer, she notices that Harry also has his up and Easton is sitting on the tailgate with his eyes looking down at the pavement. She tries not to appear as nosey or eavesdropping as she tucks her items into the back.

“Sweetheart, s’okay. Y’did so so good tonight,” Harry assures his pouty son, he squats down to start to untie his son’s nike cleats but continues to make eye contact with him.

“No, I didn’t, Daddy!” Easton whines, tears finally starting to bubble over the surface as he begins to sob with a shuddering chest, “I gave up home runs and then I missed ground balls!”

“Whoa, bubby,” Harry simpers after he tugs off the shoes and throws them carelessly into the back before standing up, “Y’did amazing, are you kiddin’? You did three innings of strikeouts, hit two of y’own homeruns. Y’played like a professional, way better than daddy.”

Kayla’s heart aches a bit when she sees Harry sit down next to him before hugging him harshly into his side, thumbing at the tears that are running down his son’s sweaty cheeks with soft reassurances.

“Daddy, are you mad I didn’t win?” Easton asks shakily, keeping his head buried into his father’s side and his small hand clutching into the fabric of his hoodie.

Harry chuckles lowly, “Daddy would never be mad at you f’anythin’, definitely not a baseball game. Remember what mama and I said? If at any point y’want to stop playin’, just let us know and we can find something else, yeah? Just like how Ezzie does art classes.”

Easton seems to calm down after a few moments of Harry rocking him and reassuring him of what an amazing son he is.

As Kayla drove away that night, her perspective on the all-star baseball player definitely changed. It was refreshing to see someone to not hold their child to an unreasonable expectation just like she thought Harry would.

The Campfire

Austin was the shortstop on the baseball team, he’d brought along his girlfriend, Chelsea, to the frat party to celebrate another win.

Everyone was in whispers that Harry was bringing his new girlfriend but nobody knew who she actually was because it was just a rumor.

It was surprising because Harry wasn’t a relationship kind-of man. He wasn’t into hookups much - always said he needed to focus on baseball.

Many of his teammates were envious of how many girls were constantly coming up to Harry at parties to flirt and try to get a dance in but he had always rejected them.

Harry had never showed interest in any of these girls at the parties, never seen him disappear upstairs with one or really entertain a conversation over a beer like they’d expect.

Chelsea pokes his shoulder and nods towards the entrance when Harry walks in with his arm around YN’s shoulder.

Most were in a little shock because they seemed like such an unlikely couple - YN had written some scathing articles about him and it was no secret he hadn’t been a fan of her.

“Holy shit, Harry’s dating YN?” Chelsea whispers to Austin as the group of party-goers cheer and whistle at the allstars appearance.

“Guess so,” Austin replies with a shrug, tugging Chelsea into the kitchen for a drink.

Later on that night, there’s a bonfire on one side of the backyard and a volleyball net on the other where a group was gathering to play.

Austin and Chelsea are on the opposing team of Harry and YN - she can’t help but watch them with curiosity because of what a surprise it is that they’re dating.

Even Austin has been watching because Harry’s acting in a way that he’s never seen throughout his time on the team with him.

Harry is just all over YN which was confusing how he went from not being remotely interested in the college girls to being a lovestruck puppy.

When she throws the ball up to serve, Harry reaches over and pinches her bum which makes her squeak and accidentally drop the ball which has him cackling as she glares at him.

As they change positions, he crowds up behind her, and massages her hips, leaning down to murmuring something in her ear.

She blushes wildly before smacking him off which has him laughing hard and kissing the back of her head before taking his position.

After Harry jumps and spikes the ball hard, earning them the winning point, YN turns around and wraps her arms around him to hug him tightly.

Harry wraps his arms around her shoulders, returning the hug before pulling back to kiss her lips in a soft peck.

Chelsea elbows Austin, “Who’s that and what did they do with Harry?”

Austin shakes his head, “I really don’t fucking know.”

The group migrates over to the fire as they might become cooler and the stars are high up in the sky, the fire flickering orange and yellow crackles of sparks.

Harry plops into a chair, pulling YN right onto his lap, and she wriggles until she’s comfortable. Chelsea notices him tap her thigh as if telling her to cut it out, too much motion right on his crotch.

Jake, one of his teammates, says in a teasing tone, “YN, I’m surprised to see you around these parts . I clearly remember a strongly worded article about how stupid frat parties are.”

YN takes it in stride, smiling as she replies, “And this party just proves my point.”

The group laughs easily, they enjoy YN’s sharp wit and comebacks as they get to know her. Austin can’t help but to notice how quiet Harry is.

Normally, he’s the life of the party, loud and making his presence known to everyone but not tonight. He has his chin propped on her shoulder and she’s cuddled back into his chest.

Austin can’t make out what Harry is saying but he’s constantly whispering in her ear and accentuating each time with a squeeze to her thighs.

“Are you guys official?” One of the teammates asked bluntly, a few beers deep by this point in the night.

Harry replies instantly, a possessive squeeze, “She’s mine and off the market, s’don’t even think about it.”

“Well I don’t think it matters because she’s turned down the whole baseball team by this point. I think everyone tried to ask her out at least once,” Steve jokes as the others agree.

“Tha’s m’girl,” Harry murmurs to her before teasing his friends,“Who’d want to go out with any you? You’re all dickheads.”

Everyone continues to joke around, it’s nearing midnight and that’s right about when Harry gets in his prime - like the party just started.

But not tonight.

YN’s eyes start to flutter shut as everyone banters and drinks around the fire, obviously not used to these late night parties.

“I better get this one t’bed,” Harry states after a few minutes, thumbing at YN’s cheekbone as she tries to stay awake.

“I’m okay,” She mumbles weakly, head still heavy against his shoulder.

“You’re coming back though, right?” Kyle asks expectantly, brows furrowed.

Harry shakes his head, “Nah, m’in for the night when she is.”

All the players look at him with a bit of a dumbfounded look, Steve shooting out, “Who knew you’d be so pussy whipped, Styles?”

Chelsea’s eyebrows raise at the crude comment, waiting with bated breath as Harry’s jaw clenches as it seems like he’s biting his tongue.

“Goodnight,” Harry says in a tone Austin has never heard before - agitated and almost…offended.

When Austin and Chelsea are sneaking up to his room for a late night hook-up, she overhears Harry and YN in his bedroom.

At first, she thinks they’re in an actual argument but as she listens to them - it’s not the kind of arguement she thought it was.

“You’re always the little spoon,” YN groans from behind the closed door.

Harry squawks, affronted before huffing back at her, “S’my favorite, please spoon me, darling?”

“You’re so fucking spoiled,” YN giggles as Chelsea assumes they move into a position where Harry’s the little spoon.

“Mm, I like feelin’ y’tits against my back, s’nice,” Harry hums with a boyish tone.

Chelsea doesn’t even realize she’s smiling until Austin drags her from her stupor.

All she knew was that Harry Styles really really fancied that school reporter.

-=-=-=-=-=-

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hqamore · 4 years ago

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boreal star ✵ chapter six

now, he’s pissed off. general kirigan was going to get his sun summoner and blast all of ravka to hell. he was so close to reaching his goals and no one was going to stop him.

chapter genre: action

series pairing: [past?] aleksander morozova (general kirigan) x reader

word count: 2.2k

author’s babble: surprise! so soon? i know. i cranked this chapter because i finally decided how this series would end. enjoy and tell me your thoughts!

here’s the masterlist

three days, you and mal agreed on. you procrastinated for the first two. well, not really procrastinated. you purchased some food and extra layers in balakirev the first day. the second day, you made your way to ryevost. to your misfortune, you were almost caught by aleksander and his merry band of misfits. but, his attention was stolen by teenagers? it was certainly entertaining to see the grisha get outwitted by the bunch.

you waited until you couldn’t detect them anymore. swiftly and careful to hide your face, you made your way to tsibeya on the third day. by high noon, the white forest greeted you with light snowfall. about 5km in, two huddled teens came into view. the crisp sounds of your steps alerted them, their eyes darting to you.

“[y/n]?” alina stepped in front of mal in a defensive position, light drawn at the ready. you surrendered your hands as mal lightly pushed away hers.

“alina, i told you they were coming,” he said.

with some reluctance, the sun summoner lowered her hands and eyed her. “why would baghra send you? you arrived at the palace the same time as i did.”

you smiled, ignoring her question, and strode past them, only pausing for them to follow. mal slung his sack over his shoulder and gave alina’s hand a light squeeze before jogging ahead of you. “i’ll look out for the stag. but, it’d be better for all of us if you answered her questions,” he whispered. “she’s naturally curious and very stubborn.”

you sighed and slowed your pace, matching your strides with alina’s. “baghra and i have a mutual understanding, one that precedes the importance of the second army,” you said.

alina glanced at you warily. “which is?”

“the black heretic cannot gain any more power.”

her lips pursed. “but, you arrived at the same time i did,” she quipped, “and i still can’t do much.”

you offered a dry chuckle. “i guess i picked it up that much faster.”

silence fell between you two, the crunching snow and distance chirps of birds filling the air. you took this opportunity to take in alina’s appearance. she wore ill-fitted clothing that couldn’t have been providing any warmth. her profile was worn, sunken eyes accompanied by an angry blush from the cool temperature. you shrugged your coat off, leaving you in your kefta, and draped it over her shoulders. she looked at you in surprise which made you smile softly.

with this small bridge, you spoke. “it must’ve been difficult escaping the palace without help.”

alina sheepishly smiled as she tugged the coat on, shuddering in the extra warmth. “not really. i just snuck into the trunk of a carriage and waited until it stopped.”

“you snuck into a stranger’s carriage?” you raised in an eyebrow, mirth evident in your eyes.

“not my best idea, but i’m safe now!”

you laughed at her embarrassed look, causing mal to look back. you saw as his lips quirked when his eyes met alina’s blushing face. warmth spread in your heart as you witnessed his loving gaze, almost feeling as if you were intruding on a secret conversation. you peered at alina who just returned mal’s stare with a blinding smile native only to one alina starkov. you envied their relationship, wordlessly intimate and completely trusting. sadness stirred at the bottom of your heart, memories of hushed giggles and longing gazes bubbling.

all lies, it was.

—

the sun was setting and, luckily, the three of you had already arrived where mal had last seen the stag. mal said he doubted that the stag moved on, leaving you guys to wait around.

brushing some snow off of a log, you sat and hugged your knees closer to conserve some warmth. alina and mal joined you, leaning into each other to share their body heat.

“when we find the stag, i need to be the one to kill it,” alina grimly stated.

mal looked down at her. “you’re a terrible shot. they made you a cartographer for a reason.”

you snickered as alina feigned offense and mal grinned unapologetically. “besides, i thought we weren’t killing it,” the tracker said, glancing at you. alina’s forehead scrunched in confusion when she turned to you.

a puff of fog appeared as you let out a sigh. “we’re not. unless absolutely necessary.”

“if we don’t, kiri—”

“i have a plan, alina,” you interrupted. “all we need to do is guide the stag away. with a combination of your abilities and mine, it’ll be fairly easy.”

“that won’t stop him from finding it,” alina protested.

you gently placed a hand on alina’s head. “that’s why, once we get it out of fjerdan territory, i’m taking it to the wandering isle. the distance will prevent aleksander from coming for it personally and give me more time to work out a permanent solution.”

she stayed silent for a moment, mulling over your plan, before she frowned. “aleksander.”

your head tilted questioningly when her body faced you, a serious look on her face. “how do you know his name?” she asked.

sucking in a deep breath, you realized you had relaxed too soon. her sharp eyes trained on you as you rubbed your face. mal remained confused, leaning forward to observe the two of you.

“it’s difficult not to know the name of your warden,” you replied.

“warden?”

you debated whether or not to tell alina the complete truth, but you threw caution into the wind and exhaled. “my arrival at the palace was not the first time i had been there. some time ago, i actually called that place home. but, one day, i woke up from the false reality and escaped from the place that was, retrospectively, my prison.”

too intelligent, alina connected the dots in record time. “you’re the lover the servants talked about,” she said breathily. “the person baghra thought would change him.”

a bitter smile danced on your lips. “i’m not sure if he loved me as i did him, but i would’ve hung the stars if he asked me to.”

alina clasped your hand in hers, offering a weak smile. you returned it before continuing. “i met him about four-hundred years ago, when he was hiding from the crown. i was young and enchanted. i believed in everything he wanted for grisha and became his willing accomplice.

“when he returned to the palace, i followed. when he locked me in my room, i complied. as naive as i was, i was in love,” you paused to glance at the pair in front of you, reminded of their small moments that paralleled your memories.

“i was in love...” you trailed, staring at your lap as your chest panged dully. you shook yourself out of your daze and cleared your throat. “no matter, i saw him for the crazed tyrant he was and, when i found out you had been discovered, i returned to thwart his plans.”

faint rustling drew mal’s attention away, the tracker slowly stepping towards the source. alina’s eyes followed him as did yours. after a few seconds, he turned. “that way.”

like meerkats, you and alina shot up and crept beside mal. his eyes darted around the clearing you were approaching and, there in all its glory, was the stag. the three of you stopped at a safe distance when it turned to look in your direction.

you started laying out the plan. “okay. alina, you need to—”

“wait,” alina said, stepping forward, with her eyes trained on the stag. “i— i’ve been seeing it in these visions ever since i arrived at the palace. i don’t know why, but i think it’s been trying to reach out to me.”

then, the stag walked towards alina who took several more steps. she gingerly reached her hand out and the stag met her with its snout. light erupted from them and alina let out soft laughs, basking in the warmth of the light. you softly gasped at the sight. it chose—

suddenly, an arrow shot the stag, causing it to lurch away from alina in pain. she tumbled backwards as people rushed in from all sides. mal raised his gun and shot at the bowman, knocking him down. he swiftly notched an arrow in his bow, prepared to shoot the stag, when a strong wind forced it out of his hand. you turned and was faced with a familiar-looking squaller. you loosened gravity’s hold on her and forced her to float. when you were about to fling her away, a grunt sounded behind you.

“mal!”

your focus disappeared; you pivoted to see mal embedded with an arrow, effectively dropping zoya and incapacitating her. you went to help him when an intense pressure hit your chest, your heart beating erratically. it forced you onto your knees next to mal. your heart was pounding in your ear before it stopped.

bright flashes threw off the heartrender and bowman. you greedily breathed in air as alina darted to mal. you could hear the snap of the arrow followed by mal’s agonizing scream. glancing up, your vision slightly blurred, you saw shadows gathering behind you. at the sound of a billowing cloak, you rushed to create a gravitational downforce around you, not allowing anyone to move. you slowly stood up, facing aleksander with a glare.

he let out a haughty laugh. “i should’ve known you would be with her.”

“alina, i need you to get to the stag,” you commanded.

“but, mal! he’s— he’s dying!”

you glanced behind you to see her applying pressure on his wounds. thoughts raced in your mind before settling on one solution. “i promise you he won’t so long as you follow my instructions.”

desperation evident in her eyes, alina could only nod.

“get to the stag and shield us on my count.”

you inhaled deeply. “3, 2, 1!”

alina ran for the stag and created a barrier. you dove under it before it separated you from the others. outside of it, aleksander found himself free to move. creeping closer, he called out. “you can’t save them, alina. you may have the power of light but not the power to heal.”

alina’s resolve wavered as her eyes flicker to mal. “don’t listen to him, alina! i promised you, didn’t i?” you reassured.

alina bit her lip as she kept up the barrier. you made mal float and pulled him closer to the stag. you gently set him down and reached for the stag. it groaned and flailed in protest.

“i know i’m not your chosen, but please. i must heal him and then i can heal you,” you whispered.

the stag quieted and allowed you to touch it. with one hand on the stag, you hovered the other near mal’s wound.

“i’m sorry, mal, but this is gonna hurt like hell.”

you manipulated time on his body. blood slowly returned to the wound whilst the arrow pieced itself together, ripping itself out of him afterwards. mal let out a painful howl before the wound stitches itself back together, like no arrow had been there in the first place. as he recovered, you quickly moved around to the other side of the stag.

“i see you’ve been busy,” aleksander said sharply.

rage gathered in the pit of your stomach when you shot a glare at aleksander. “and you’ve been a complete fool. after all this time, you still can’t get it through your thick skull that morozova’s amplifiers have to choose you,” you spat.

you returned your attention to the stag’s wound. you murmured an apology before you worked on it. it whined through the pain but stilled once you finished. your hands trembled as you shakily pushed yourself off the ground. the stag stirred and stood on its legs, causing alina to follow in suit. you ran your hand through its fur and whispered. “just once more, friend.”

as if it reads your mind, it knelt before alina. you looked at her, mal now standing beside her.

“you two, get on.”

alina gave you a bewildered look. you returned it with a pleading one. without protest, she and mal both mounted the stag. then, it rose, looking towards you. you leaned your forehead against its snout. “take them far from here.”

you stepped to the side and took alina’s hand. “now, i only have so much energy left to keep them here. so, ride fast.”

“what? you’re not coming with us?” alina’s jaw dropped.

you offered her a melancholic smile. “please, if i have to witness anymore of your loving gazes, i’ll become a bitter spinster,” you teased before growing serious. “alina, keep the shield up until you’ve left fjerdan territory. only make it as big as it has to be. mal, you’re going to have to make sure she doesn’t fall off.”

you let go of her hand and gave mal a nod. inching away from them, you approached the center of the field, barely covered by alina’s light. you glanced back and jerked your head, signaling them to leave. you immobilized aleksander and his men once more, allowing alina and mal to slip through and disappear into the winter night. despite your raging headache, you kept your focus until you couldn’t see the light. you collapsed, the snow cushioning your fall. your vision blurred as you heard footsteps approach you.

“we’ll find them eventually.”

you squinted at your former lover. “no, i don’t think you will, aleks.”

aleksander crouched down and whispered in your ear. “i should kill you where you lay.”

“be my guest. you are well within your rights, general kirigan,” you taunted.

he sneered. “out of respect for our past, i won’t. but, you will be my prisoner.”

“what’s new?” you asked before promptly passing out.

taglist (couldn’t tag the ones in bold): @kykymyeon @shelivesindaydreamswme @blackbirddaredevil23 @amortentiaaaa @safetyhtom @savannah-elliott @deceivedeer @gloriousmoneyrascalbiscuit @sarcastic-and-cool @supersouthy @let-love-bleeds-red @andwhatofthelight @all-art-is-quite-useless @mixed-imagination @ashdab2611 @aria-grace-scott @multifandom-addict @aleksanderwh0r3 @p3nny4urth0ught5 @kirigansgf @evyiione @theoutsidelandhere @wizardwheezes @partiesandblurrypolaroids @pansysgirlfriend @takethee @imrann123456 @rachellovesharry

author’s babble pt.2: ohoho! can you believe they did that? now, you may be wondering why [y/n] is able to manipulate time. it has to do with spacetime being 4 dimensional and the complexity that comes with the concept of gravity. a bit wibbly wobbly timey wimey (ﾉ´ヮ´)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

continue to chapter seven? yes

#shadow and bone #shadow and bone fanfiction #grishaverse fanfiction #shadow and bone imagine #general kirigan x reader #general kirigan imagine #the darkling x reader #the darkling imagine #aleksander morozova x reader #boreal star

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soobadnoonecanstopher · 4 years ago

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Touch it for Real, Part 9

Genre: Humor / Fluff / Angst / (Eventual) Smut 18+

Warnings: OMG they were roommates / slice of life / slow burn / mutual pining / crude humor / cursing / virgin!baek / idiots to lovers / unresolved sexual tension

Characters: Baekhyun X You/Female Reader

Description: You teach Baekhyun how to date. (Basically the Get You Alone M/V)

A/N: DO NOT YELL AT ME! It is going to be okay.

Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 4 , Part 5 , Part 6 , Part 7 , Part 8 , Part 9 , Part 10

You had a secret.

For such an abstract and shapeless thing you could sure feel it sitting in there.

It was pulsing.

Your secret felt like a splinter lodged just under a single taste bud that sat in the center of your tongue. You could feel your white blood cells attacking it, trying their best to push it up and push it out, but still it clung tight with its sharp barbs lodged within your cell walls. You brushed your tongue against your teeth.

The secret did not budge.

What you knew about them though, was that secrets did not like to stay hidden forever.

Your fork slipped and clanked noisily against the ceramic plate and the bright orange carrot ball rolled across the smooth white surface nearly sliding over the edge onto the white linen. Whoever decided that your steamed vegetables needed to be shaped into spheres simply for aesthetics should be forced to come out here and explain how you were supposed to spear one of these things while also avoiding the risk of it shooting across the table and hitting your date in the face.

Ben turned out to be very nice. If you were into tall, handsome, clean-looking, and responsible guys who drove their own cars and also had things like health insurance and retirement plans. When you first saw him, you were struck by the firmness you felt when he shook your hand and smiled brightly at you. He had all of his teeth and a head full of hair. He was definitely walking around on his real legs too. He looked like the kind of guy who didn’t let the clean laundry sit in the dryer for longer than a day and changed out his toothbrush every three months. You couldn't see a single fault.

You were trying your best to make a good first impression.

Really, you were.

Well, while also keeping an eye on Baekhyun who sat beside you with his focus down on his plate as he sliced his food into bite sized bits. His control of the fork and knife felt so careful and so exacting, it neared obsession. He had not ordered the steamed vegetables. None of his food rolled.

Across from him, looking just as cute in person as her online dating profile pictures conveyed, was Mia.

Mia was fine.

She was fine.

You didn't want to get into it.

Her clothes were fine. They were exactly the kinds of clothes you had expected she would wear.

Her hair was fine.

She actually had a hairstyle that reminded you of one of the characters in an anime you watched with Baekhyun once and you wondered about the upkeep costs of that particular shade of blue that streaked through her hair. You wondered if she had to switch to blue towels and blue pillow cases or if everything in her house was just stained forever.

Baekhyun’s cheeks blushed when he shook her hand and his smile was bashful, if not a bit tight when she complimented his glasses. Your mind briefly considered the plush, expensive white towels you both owned at home and a flash of horror overcame you for a split second when you imagined those towels streaked with a blue stain from the shower.

He bought those glasses at a store. Anyone can go to the store and buy glasses. Did such a superficial compliment really warrant such a deep shade of pink on his cheeks?

You took a sip of your glass of wine and the sweet, cool liquid had a tart aftertaste that lingered on your taste buds long after you swallowed and you stabbed roughly at the runaway carrot again, impaling it with the prongs of your fork.

Finally.

“I got it,” you said out loud to yourself with a wide smile and you held your prize up in front of your face for a second. Long enough for your eyes to drift across your table to meet Ben’s and you caught the soft amused chuckle that puffed from his nose.

You’d already gotten through the backstory. Starting with the curious question from Mia about how you and Baekhyun got to know each other and you took a quick glance toward Ben as Baekhyun explained that you and he had been roommates for a couple of years. You caught the slight smile on Ben’s lips as he looked down into his water glass and you wondered if he was pleased that he already knew the answer to this question as you had been quick to tell him this important detail about your life as you chatted with him during the last week or so.

Mia on the other hand simply let her eyes drift over from Baekhyun’s face to land on yours for a moment and you offered a disarming smile by way of explanation. Not that either of you had any explaining to do. You could live with whoever you wanted to live with. It took her ten seconds to return your smile, although you didn't quite believe it, or believe that she was done with her curiosities about this topic.

You couldn't really blame her although you’d given her nothing to be suspicious about. Not in the last 20 minutes since you’d all arrived and nibbled on shared appetizers, at least.

Hell, you hadn’t even touched him all day. From before you both arrived at this fancy restaurant and just relinquished your coats to some stranger simply because she held a hand out and sported a severe enough hairdo and manic look in her eyes that was too frightening to question. From the morning when you woke up and wandered into your kitchen to make toast for one and you ignored the sound of his feet shuffling in, half-asleep to grab a yogurt from the fridge. You hadn’t even helped him style his hair; which looked stunning, by the way, with the waves and the faded brown color that absolutely looked like something the perfect boyfriend would let you play with as he laid on your lap. He hadn’t even asked for your help picking out his outfit. He’d simply done it all on his own and waited for you by the front door wearing those jeans and smelling like that familiar scent that he bought for your date with him weeks back.

When had this all become so awkward? You’d never been afraid to touch Baekhyun before but now, well, the touches hadn’t ever concealed quite so much meaning before.

By the time the entrees arrived the conversations had moved on to hobbies and interests.

Ben was a movie buff, and his favorites were mostly mainstream blockbusters of the Marvel Superhero variety. He enjoyed many of the genres of films you’d mostly seen just the previews of. His top ten contained a bit more horror than you were comfortable with. One in particular, a prolific film based on a Steven King novel, had been the kind of psychologically terrifying film that made your chest rattle and you had spent most of the second half of that movie with your face buried in Baekhyun’s arm begging him to just describe to you what was happening and to tell you when the scary parts were over.

When he asked you what your favorite movie was you hesitated for a moment before pulling the movie Forrest Gump out of basically thin air. Yes you had enjoyed the movie. Yes it was something you’d seen more than once and if it was on television right now you would sit down and watch it from start to finish and you would enjoy it. It was a respectable favorite to have. It was the kind of favorite movie you would not be embarrassed to show to your grandmother.

But it wasn’t actually your favorite and you could feel the burden of Baekhyun’s eyes as he turned his head to look at your face when you said it.

Something about naming, out loud with your own lips — the light and fun, mindless guilty pleasure of the film that was actually your favorite movie that you’d watched hundreds of times and returned to watch again and again every time you felt even a little bit upset; something about saying it out loud to this table of people with countless of hours of media consumption under their belts and opinions about things like prolific directors, production companies, hefty CGI budgets, and overused, tired tropes that absolutely should be dropped in 2021, well it just felt too vulnerable for you to say out loud.

You swallowed a sip of your wine and refused to turn your head to look at Baekhyun until you heard the sound of his throat swallowing the ice water he sipped.

When Mia changed the topic to Anime you felt Baekhyun come alive beside you and Ben slinked back in his seat a little as the two of them got to talking about something that was highly anticipated and was slated to be released next year. Rumors about artists and directors with names you could not know flew easily from their lips and Mia mentioned the name of one previous work that you recognized.

In fact you had watched the entire thing last year with Baekhyun and you remembered talking excitedly about it with Mia during one of your early text conversations.

Your face lit up and you happily joined in, excited to finally know what in the world they were talking about when you accidentally let something slip when you reminded her of what she had said about the anime before. Luckily you stopped yourself before you could admit that you had actually been the one she had been chatting with at the time.

Still, she caught it. She was very quick and sharp and you watched her face as she registered that you’d referenced something that only Baekhyun should know about. Had you just fucked up?

“Ahh, we,” you raised your index finger and waved it lightly toward where Baekhyun had stiffened up in his seat beside you, “he told me about what you said.”

There was a moment when her eyes widened and she looked at Baekhyun briefly before returning her focus to you.

“He...told you about me?” She lifted a hand to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, straightened her back and leaned forward with her forearms rested in front of her plate on the table. Her off-the-shoulders number dipped when she leaned in and you caught a bit of black lace and the bunch up of her impressive bosom.

She smiled a coy smile aimed across the table.

You followed the smile and your eyes reached Baekhyun. He’d been hit with the smile and had been too stunned to return it. Instead, he lifted a hand and rubbed it over the back of his neck twice before reaching the same hand forward to grab the ice water he’d been sipping all night as he pulled in a mouthful and puffed his cheeks before covering his lips with his flattened palm and swallowing noisily.

“I also mentioned you to my friend,” Mia said not quietly enough for it to be just for him and you dropped your eyes down to the half finished chicken on your plate.

She was fine. Mia was fine. She’d done absolutely nothing wrong. She was nice and she was probably a good person, but you kind of wanted her to die.

“So,” Ben interjected suddenly and you looked across the table at him as you tried to conceal the surprise on your face to find him sitting there.

You noticed he was done with his food and his plate had already been cleared away by the super attentive waitstaff.

The negligence of your own date weighed heavily on you and you angled your chest forward to face him directly for whatever questions he had for you.

He was pointing toward Baekhyun and Mia with his extended finger and raised eyebrows.

“You two work in computers?” It was a work question. He’d gathered this much from the brief introductions everyone had given and while you had failed to offer any insight as to what you did for a living, Baekhyun and Mia had both mentioned computers.

“He’s a software engineer, and I’m a programmer. Similar but not the same,” Mia explained. You weren't sure of any of the details or of how they were different. You hadn’t really put much thought into it. You knew Baekhyun worked the magic with the keyboard and could fix anything that you happened to break.

“I’m in advertising. Just got scouted by Comma Entertainment and I’ve accepted.” Ben had a hand raised to his chest and his eyebrows were up. This seemed important to him and you let your lips form into an impressed O shape as you raised your eyebrows. His tone and the way he said the name of his new employer seemed to warrant the excited reaction.

You weren't familiar at all with his industry but you knew how to react like you knew what he was talking about. He certainly seemed impressed by himself. Who were you to discourage his enthusiasm.

“You’ve heard of it?” You sold it too well. Baekhyun had leaned close to you and whispered an aside question and you shot him a tense look with your eyes as a warning, but you quickly pushed your smile wide for Ben who was, deservedly, very excited about his new position.

“Of course, who doesn’t know Comma for advertising. That’s a very big deal. Is that why you were so busy last week? We hardly got to talk.”

Your subject change was so slick. If you hadn’t been the one to do it, you’d have been impressed by it. The disappointed pout on your face sold it well.

“Actually I was at the bank a lot last week. It was so weird. I had a few accounts that seemed to be hacked but then it turned out to be nothing. Had to change all my passwords though, so that was annoying.”

“That sucks. They didn't take anything did they?” Mia spoke up from beside Ben; concern written all over her face.

“No. Whoever did it just seemed to access purchase histories mostly. Some loser of a hacker. Didn't even get any money.” Ben’s lips pulled wide and he was laughing with his head thrown back at his perceived victory over the hacker that had been messing around in his bank records.

“You can learn a remarkable amount of information about a person’s bad habits from their bank history, Ben. Sure utilities and rent; that’s boring. You can find out how often someone gets hammered at bars. How many of those bars are also strip clubs. How many maxed out credit cards they make minimum payments on each month just to keep their head above water. Their gambling losses and the motel rooms they book in the bad part of town…”

Baekhyun was speaking up beside you. You turned and you looked at his profile as he spoke so candidly and with what you could only describe as a certain smugness on his voice.

The only reason he’d stopped talking was to catch his breath. It was the most he had spoken all night and you honestly felt taken aback by the suddenness of his words and more, the topic he spoke on. It felt weirdly pointed. It just felt so detailed; almost accusatory.

“What?” You hissed the question; focused it hard and as under your breath as possible to the man seated beside you.

His lips closed up before his eyes turned to look at you and you caught a quick blink of his eyes that preceded a softening of his features that had no business looking that confrontational in the first place.

“I’m not saying any of that stuff applies to Ben.” Baekhyun lifted a slim dismissive hand to wave toward your date. “It’s just an example. For all we know Ben’s only weakness is eating fried chicken every day.”

Ben’s lips were pulled into a thin line on his face and his jaw unclenched when you looked back at him. Then he was smiling at you and it was bright and convincing. You smiled back at him and shook your head at your wacky roommate’s antics.

“Actually it’s pizza. You caught me buddy, I’m a hardcore pizza addict. Every night.”

“Well, not tonight.” Baekhyun shrugged with an odd smile landing on his lips.

Ben’s tight smile flattened and the two men seemed to be staring at each other for longer than you thought was polite for a shared first double-date.

“So what is it that you do?” It was Mia who ultimately broke the tension and you looked across the table into her eyes. She had a pleasant smile on her face and was still chewing on a piece of bread, clearly unbothered by the strange standoff that had just been going on between the two men at this table.

Surely you weren't the only one to notice how odd it had been. Had you just imagined the tightness in Baekhyun’s fist that laid over his thigh and the hard glare in Ben’s eyes?

With Mia’s question though, you felt your own lips pull closed and your eyes danced around the table to the other curious parties who also were now looking at you to answer the question.

You’d prepared well for this date. You’d made sure Baekhyun had the detailed first date topics, questions and answers for perfect small talk, even the section on table etiquette. You’d made sure he knew you’d be here to steer the conversations toward topics he was comfortable discussing and you’d even set up a safety signal he would use if he wanted to bail and just go home.

You’d planned it all out, down to the detailed progression of the evening and how at the end someone might even suggest going together for drinks. And should one of the dates wish to split off, it would be completely okay as long as the corresponding person felt comfortable. You’d even promised that under no circumstances would you abandon Baekhyun to do this on his own if he didn't want to. Not even at the behest of Ben, your date.

They were looking at you and you'd gone quiet. You’d been so busy preparing for this date that it never occurred to you that you were also actively involved and that someone might possibly ask a question about you and your work.

Your work. Well…

“Uhh...I don't really do anything worth mentioning.”

You felt it. It was a warmth that had pooled in the skin around your nose. Your cheeks felt warm and you felt just insignificant enough for it to take your undeserved confidence and throw it out the window.

Ben and Mia were watching you. You pulled your bottom lip in between your teeth and bit down on the dry chapped skin on the surface.

“Nothing?” Ben said and his eyes were wide with a look of confusion on his face.

“Well, not nothing.” You were not completely unemployed. You had been quite impressive before. You’d been working with the best publicists of an entertainment company and had been in charge of crafting and perfecting the asset sheets of many of your company's highest profile artists. You’d been the best at it and at one time had been highly sought out for your expertise. You had a way with it. You could work some real magic. You could make a dud of a raw potato sound like a five star course in a Michelin star restaurant. Losing your position in the spring of 2020 had really been a huge blow to your confidence. You looked back at how far you had fallen. Boring data entry jobs to make ends meet. Taking on weird side gigs so you could afford tiny luxuries like your favorite scented lotion or the name brand tampons instead of the store brand.

“I do have a job.” You added lamely. “It’s just not at all interesting.”

Ben dropped his eyes from yours and Mia shrugged her shoulders and stabbed a carrot ball expertly on the first try.

“Yeah but what is it?” Mia said as she chewed daintily. The heat in your cheeks spread and you let your eyes wander away from hers over the various dinner items that covered this table.

Beside you, Baekhyun’s movement caught your eye and you turned to see him place an elbow on the table in front of him and he leaned forward.

“She’s a dating coach. She’s really good at it, but much too modest when she talks about herself.”

Oh no. He wasn't about to spill the beans was he? This was definitely not something in the approved list of first date dinner topics. Wasn't this topic too incriminating? Wouldn't Mia put two and two together and figure out that you had been coaching Baekhyun all along? Also, wasn't this new profession of yours too brand new to start talking about so freely like this? What the hell was he doing?

“A dating coach? What’s that?”

Strangely, Mia didn't seem to be looking at Baekhyun with wheels turning and sirens blaring. She was looking at you with her mouth empty and hung open with a look of genuine interest in her eyes.

“Do you like, feed them what to say in an earpiece?” Ben was speaking up from the other side of Mia and you laughed at the absurdity of such a silly rom-com movie cliche.

“Well no. I’m not a pickup artist. I am a dating coach. Think about it like a sports coach. I am teaching my clients the skills to play the game. Skills to overcome dating anxiety, or I’m teaching them to identity and move away from self-sabotaging behaviors, limiting beliefs, or preconceptions that are detrimental to a healthy relationship.

I have clients that don't even know where to begin. My goal is to strategize with them and place them effectively within the dating scene so they stand the best chance. It’s incredibly hard to be objective about your own love life, but I provide an outside viewpoint. I step in and intervene when I see something that isn't in line with their relationship goals or the vision they have for dating.

I’m not teaching manipulation or just telling them what to say. There are no love spells to make someone fall in love with you. I’m changing the way they believe in themselves so they can present themselves to someone else in the absolute best way to begin a real relationship with someone.”

You’d been leaning in as you spoke animatedly with your hands. You felt the genuine excitement building with your words. You were surprised at how much of your previous profession’s language applied to this new exciting endeavor you were embarking on, but there really were tons of overlapping similarities between the two fields. The explanations just poured out of you.

You hadn’t said any of this out loud before to anyone but the more you talked about it, the more elated you felt about what you were doing with your life. With how much you had been helping Baekhyun and how much progress you had seen in just one day of helping your clients — Baekhyun’s friends Minseok and Sehun. Sehun had finally, finally sent you his first selfie that wasn’t taken from his lap after you’d sent him many examples of good selfies taken from different angles. Minseok was already halfway through the materials you’d sent him to study and had been working hard on identifying and changing the self-defeating language he’d used in his rough draft dating profile.

“She has an app.” Baekhyun piped up from beside you. He’d leaned back in his chair as you spoke.

Both Ben and Mia’s faces mirrored each other’s. Their eyes were wide and their mouths hung in amazement and you quickly closed up your own mouth and grabbed anxiously at your wine glass, feeling a little bit embarrassed about having talked so much. You couldn't resist the chance to smash their misconceptions about what your goals actually were with helping your clients. None of these people were unlovable. They were all worthy of finding someone and you were going to give it your all to help them see their own value.

“Not at all interesting?” Mia spoke up, “that’s super interesting. That’s really, really cool. Can—Can I have your contact info? I have a friend that would be interested in your services.”

“You have an app too? This is something we could advertise online. It would do extremely well on certain kinds of reddit forums and definitely in most online gaming communities.” Even Ben sounded excited, if not a bit overly judgmental, and you heard a quiet, but hostile scoff next to you.

You ticked your head toward the sound but did not turn to look at him. You knew that scoff well enough to hear the annoyance in his voice at whatever he thought Ben might be insinuating about online gamers and the connection to the incels that haunted the forums of reddit.

“I think it’s a bit premature to think about online advertising. I’m still only one person.”

Ben smiled and shrugged off your quick dismissal of his idea to partner up and advertise your business to the desperately lonely and pathetic gamers of the world. Hell, the more you thought about it, the less inappropriate Baekhyun’s annoyance was. Ben could use some coaching on choosing less insulting words.

Thankfully the dinner was over and the check had been taken care of. You looked away from the palpable awkwardness that slapped you across the face when Baekhyun waved away Ben’s card and paid for the entire bill with his own.

“You can get me next time, buddy.” He definitely said this word sarcastically. It was out of line and you simply could not find the right moment to pinch his leg under the table to get him to behave himself in a discrete enough way that would not get you caught by the other two people at this table.

You let it slide simply because you had no way to stop it. He was ignoring the way you waved your finger frantically at him down by your calf. You knew he could see you in his peripherals.

No, Baekhyun. Stop that. Be nice. Your hand was saying. He wouldn't even look at it.

The dinner was over and the movie was starting soon. You’d picked a restaurant that was close enough to the theatre that you could walk.

You paired off. It was far from natural. You actually caught Baekhyun’s eyes as you stepped quickly and walked ahead of him, falling into step beside Ben and you left behind Baekhyun and Mia to bring up the rear. It took every ounce of self control not to turn around and look behind you to see how closely they walked to each other. To see if Baekhyun kept his hands shoved securely in his pockets or if he swung his arms at his side as he walked, inching a hand closer and closer to Mia’s swinging hand in the hopes of a back of the hand brush of his warm skin against hers.

Your steps must have stalled. You’d reached the theatre and you looked up to locate Ben, only to find him at the box office purchasing four tickets for the movie you’d all agreed to watch days ago. For the life of you, you couldn't remember what you were seeing. You merely followed where you were led and found yourself seated in a center row of a movie house sandwiched between Ben and Baekhyun. You noticed the center armrests had been lifted when you arrived and simply did not bother to lower them since everyone was too full from dinner for any movie snacks or drinks.

The house was mostly empty and then lights dimmed as the movie began. You searched your brain and nearly pulled out your phone to check your chat logs for the name of the film but decided against shining a tiny bright light in a dark room.

The movie began and you were quickly drawn into the narrative. It was a dark film and as the soundtrack began to take on more sinister sounding tones you recognized that your heart was racing and you were feeling the tension all over your body. It was not a gorey horror film, but it was leaning more toward the psychological suspense thriller genre. Not really something you watched much of.

To your left, Ben sat completely still; focused only on the movie screen. He looked so calm and nearly unaffected by the terrifying things happening on the screen. He occasionally shifted in his seat but did not react to the jump scare that flashed before your eyes and made you flinch hard in your seat. You’d reached the point in the film when the main characters were in genuine danger and you began to wonder if anyone would make it out of this movie alive. Was this one of those films where everyone was doomed?

It happened again, another jump, another loud shocking sound and another noise startled you and you dove to your right, hiding your face in the warm shoulder of the man sitting beside you.

The realization was instantaneous. The second you felt the warmth of his arm, and the smell of him hit your nose, you pulled your head up and you straightened out your spine, mumbling a quiet apology to Baekhyun for using his arm to hide behind as you removed any and all contact points you had with his body. You angled your hips and your knees away from him and even went so far as to stick your hands well under your own thighs and keep them there so you didn't grab for him again. You had been doing so well by not touching him at all today. Why did it have to be a scary movie?

Things grew more frantic on the screen. You held your breath and tried your best to keep from reacting as much as you could. How long was this movie? How much longer did you have to endure this? You should have paid more attention to the details of this part of the date. This was your own fault. You were acting like a big baby because you couldn't handle a little frightening scenes in a movie.

It was coming again. You could feel it building. You closed your eyes and terrible sounds were erupting all over. You would just not look. You could make it through if you just didn't look. With your eyes closed the sounds felt louder than ever and when you thought you couldn't take it anymore you considered committing the enormous sin of getting up during the climax of the movie to use the bathroom just so you didn't have to sit through this anymore.

There was a shift beside you then. You felt warm fingers inching down your forearm, traveling the path your hand took that led below your thigh and someone was reaching for your hand and pulling it out from where you’d been sitting on it. Someone to your right was gripping your hand with his own warm hand and you opened your eyes to look down between the hidden space between your hip and Baekhyun’s hip. There, you saw the grip of his hand that wrapped securely around yours.

He squeezed down once and you followed the length of him up to catch a glimpse of the side of his face. He was looking up at the screen. His eyes were open and he did not flinch at all. He was so still aside from the occasional movement of his lips when he moistened them with his tongue.

You could handle this if he lent you a little bit of his strength like this. Your eyes returned to the screen but your mind wandered back down to the secure comfort you felt in his hand.

You felt your own secret throb.

It made you flinch just a little bit and Baekhyun’s hand shifted then. He moved, lifting the tight grip for a moment and you wondered if he was done, would he take his hand back and leave you cold and afraid again? The lift was for the shift of his fingers and you felt the push of each digit between yours. He pushed his fingers between yours; interlocking your hands together with his and his thumb moved lightly over your own thumb, brushing comforting strokes again and again through the loud and scary and shocking scenes that played over that screen.

This time the racing you felt in your chest had nothing to do with the scary movie. He was touching you. He was holding your hand in secret. It felt forbidden with his date sitting right beside him like she was and with your date seated right beside you like he was. All of your attention was down on the slow pressure you felt from his thumb as it traced the shape of your own thumb down from the very bottom up to the tip, around again. The simple up and down had a slow and sensual rhythm to it. When he lifted his hand his thumb moved and you held your breath to feel that same very slow touching trace the outline of the palm of your hand again and again. He drew absentminded shapes into your skin with the pointed tip of his thumb and your eyes drifted closed as the longing grew within you. He followed the paths of the creases in your skin like a palm reader. He did not even need light to see them, he simply felt them and traced along the paths.

You let him.

You felt bewitched.

You loved him.

The credits rolled on the screen and the lights switched on. The change was abrupt. You were taken by surprise and shocked by it like you were from the jump scares in the film.

His warmth left you. His wandering light touch, his deliberate and careful exploration of the lines that made up the palm of your hand vanished.

Everyone was standing and everyone was walking out of the theatre house and your mind felt clouded and dazed but you followed where their steps led and you found yourself standing outside of the exit doors with the three other people who you entered with.

Baekhyun stood beside Mia and Ben occupied the space of the sidewalk square that you also stood inside.

It was the end of a night. You felt an overwhelming urge for this evening to be done so you could go home and shower and maybe eat something sweet and distracting and maybe made out of chocolate.

“Well this was fun,” it was your own voice that ultimately called it.

Mia had been looking at Baekhyun who had been looking down at his own feet as he lightly tapped his foot on the concrete below. Three taps.

Tap, tap, tap.

You felt a jolt of realization. Baekhyun had just tapped his foot thrice on the floor below him well within your sight and you recognized what that meant. He was feeling done. He was done with all of this exhausting socializing and being out in public with so many people around and he wanted to go home now. This was him asking you for help now as he wasn't sure how to end the date but wanted it to be over.

“What about...grabbing some drinks, maybe...” Mia was talking only to Baekhyun as she looked at him, “if you aren't too tired.”

“Hey Baek, isn’t your grandmother coming over early tomorrow? Do you still have to get ready for that?” You interjected suddenly and Baekhyun looked up into your face with his mouth open and you watched his eyes move slowly over your face as he recognized what you were doing. You were giving him an out. Mia had asked him to go for drinks and you were giving him an excuse, should he need it.

You both knew his grandma came every other Sunday. You both vividly remembered the wonderful visit you had at the beginning of the week with her and she wasn’t due to arrive again until next Sunday.

He could simply correct you if he really did want to go with her. He could call you a dummy and tell you that you had the wrong week again and playfully tap you on the head to jog your brain back into functioning the right way as he often did when you got something mixed up.

“Oh, yeah she is,” Baekhyun grabbed your convenient reminder from the air and smiled a rueful smile directed at Mia. His smile widened with the wince on his face, “that’s too bad.” He added and Mia took it well.

She smiled and nodded her head and there were well wishes for a safe trip home all around as you all parted ways.

Ben said he would text you later. Baekhyun told Mia the same and you waited until they both walked away to follow Baekhyun back to his car for the quiet ride home.

The silence was heavy, but it was comfortable.

Baekhyun didn't speak at all and you could tell by the way he carried himself that he was tired. He wasn’t normally an extroverted person and found it very draining to carry on a full conversation with friends he knew well. Strangers like he had been with tonight, well, you could see the fatigue in his movements and you knew he needed something warm to drink and maybe some comfort with a familiar favorite tv show to zone out in front of.

You handled it better. You were used to having to go out of your home occasionally and you even enjoyed socializing with your coworkers on the few days you went in to the office for work. You felt a bit drained but mostly you were preoccupied with watching how he was handling it and you were also burning with curiosity to know how Baekhyun felt about the whole thing.

He’d wandered into the living room and he found the sofa. You followed him close behind and grabbed the remote, flipping to a familiar and funny cartoon that you often saw him playing in the background as he worked on things. He didn't usually watch it that closely but it was comforting enough to stay on and keep his mind occupied for a while.

You didn't speak. Everything you had to ask him could wait. Even the scolding you had for him about how he acted toward Ben could also wait. You’d let the man breathe a little first.

You busied yourself in the kitchen making two cups of hot tea and when you returned you found his head leaning against the back of the couch with his eyes still glued to the screen. He had a passive smile on his face and he reacted positively to the wacky scenarios the characters found themselves in. He would occasionally speak out loud, speaking along with a funny line he knew by heart and you found it impossible to resist saying the follow up joke. You knew this show as well as he did.

He accepted the tea with a smile and had a few sips and you set your mug on the coffee table in favorable of the comfortable side of the sofa, the side with the pillows that allowed you to rest your head comfortably as you watched the big tv.

You were feeling pretty good. Baekhyun had now officially gone on his first date with a real girl who wasn’t you and he’d had a nice time. You could see from where you laid your head down how relaxed his face was as he giggled at the show.

You stretched and you felt his warm thigh with your foot. This sofa was long enough for you to stretch out completely and you only barely reached where he sat at the other side. You wiggled your toes, unable to resist the light messing with him that you often gave in to and his hand reached down to grab ahold of your foot, which he held in place as he paid attention to the tv.

Your phone buzzed in your pocket and you sat up a little bit to pull it out.

You saw a text message from Ben.

From the preview you got the idea of what kind of text message the man would be sending you an hour after your first, and apparently your last date with him.

-Hey you seem like a super cool girl, but...

The preview showed you enough to know that he was dumping you before you’d even gotten anything started with him.

You opened the text. Your curiosity outweighed your sense of self preservation.

-...but whatever’s going on between you and your roommate, well it doesn’t really seem like there’s much room for me. I just don't think I can start something knowing I’ve already lost. Thanks for inviting me tonight. The movie was fun. Good luck with everything. - Ben

You felt the sting.

You couldn't help it. You’d spent all evening watching Baekhyun interact with Mia with every ounce of your self control devoted to not letting your jealousy show at all. At one point you’d been so damn engrossed in them that you forgot Ben was even there. What an unfair and shitty situation to have put him in. You quickly keyed out an apology for your crappy date etiquette and thanked him for going out with you tonight.

You couldn't even blame him for anything. He had been sweet and he had tried his best to be the perfect gentleman. What had you expected?

You sent the last message you would ever send to Ben and tossed your phone roughly toward the coffee table. It bounced but landed in the middle.

The racket called Baekhyun’s attention and he turned to look at you with his eyebrows raised in question.

“Ben just rejected me.”

Somehow saying this out loud to Baekhyun felt better than hiding it from him. It felt less miserable than keeping it inside of yourself and letting yourself suffer the sting of the rejection alone.

Baekhyun’s lips pulled into a small frown and he took out his cell phone from his pocket and tossed it roughly on the coffee table beside yours. It took a similar bounce and your eyes widened in surprise at the sudden gesture.

“No way, not Mia too,” you said in genuine fear and Baekhyun shook his head with his shrug still well in place.

“Nah, I just can't lay down with my phone in my pocket,” he said as he wiggled on the sofa trying to get comfortable, “though in hindsight I can see how you would think that, sorry. Mia hasn’t texted yet.”

He was wiggling, finding no comfort in all the positions he tried and you caught his wandering eyes for a second as you lightly tapped a hand over your belly.

This…

This would be fine. This was something you both did sometimes. Baekhyun said your belly was warm and comfy and made the best noises and he liked to use you as a pillow when he was just too tired to go to his own bed.

He moved right away at your invitation and you let your legs part around his chest as he laid his head down right on top of you. He turned his head to face the tv and didn't even squirm too much before he sighed out loud. His arms laid on either side of your waist and you felt the constriction as he lightly squeezed around you.

You really hadn’t gotten to touch him all day. Your fingers found their way into his hair and you felt a low moan from the back of his throat travel though your body as you raked your nails down the back of his head to his nape.

“Peanut,” you said softly, feeling every little bit of the annoying little tickle of that stupid secret sitting inside of you.

You could feel the heaviness of his body as he gave in and relaxed his muscles on you. You felt every breath he took and they seemed to be changing as you played with his hair and he gave in to the relaxing comfort you offered him.

“Hmm?” He replied after a long while. You angled your face and could see that his eyes were closed.

“How was the date? Was it nice?”

You had so many hopes for him. You were trying your best to ignore the pangs of your own selfish jealousy and get past it all to get to something good for him. Something that would make him understand how incredible he was. How beautiful he was inside and out and how precious of a human being he was.

“Mhmm, I liked it.” He said softly and he shifted and you felt him tighten his hold around your waist briefly before he relaxed again.

“Did you really? Do you think you liked Mia?” You kept your voice strong. You did not allow your fears to overcome your voice. You were okay with this if he was okay.

He did not answer right away. You’d stopped playing with his hair and you kept your hand rested over his head. He was so warm. He was so lovely.

“Do you want me to like Mia?”

No.

Mia would be so good to him.

You did not answer. Your answer would have been no. It would have been selfish. You’d just been dumped by your date, how dare his date have gone so well. You’d both been on the same date. You could still see the way she looked at him. She found him just as lovely as you did.

You felt a thickness at the back of your throat and you swallowed it down.

“I’m trying, Bug. She’s very nice to talk to. Do you think I should like her?”

Was this because of his mistrust of people? Was this his shyness about letting someone he didn't know very well in close?

You couldn't respond. You did not trust yourself to do the right thing.

“You should go rest if you’re sleepy,” you said, you know, like a coward.

It took him a few minutes of laying on top of you before he realized that you were right and he would be much more comfortable in his own bed. He nodded and pushed up with his arms, and his eyes stayed closed and his head stayed hung down as his feet shuffled and he made his way into his bedroom, leaving his door open you merely heard the loud sound of him plopping down on his bed.

You were stuck where he left you.

Stuck in about as crappy a mood as you’d ever found yourself.

You hated everything about this. You hated how much you loved him and you hated how receptive he was to the idea of dating Mia. You hated how she looked at him and giggled at his small jokes and you hated HATED the way his cheeks blushed and the shy smiles he gave her when she talked to him.

You laid there and you stewed in your mood for longer than was good for you and the only thing that made your it up was the simultaneous buzzing that brought both of your cell phones to life on the coffee table.

You reached for yours. It’s as your dating coach app. Baekhyun had received a new message from Mia. The feelings that surged through you were taking over your sense of what was good and what was right and what was proper behavior for someone like you to participate in.

You swiped to read the message.

-Hi Baekhyun. Sorry I couldn't wait until tomorrow to text you. I had an amazing time tonight and I was wondering if you would like to meet up tomorrow after your Grandmother’s visit for coffee? I have something I’d like to ask you.

You felt as if your body was on fire.

You could feel it deep inside your chest, deeper still inside your belly where his head had been resting moments before. You felt it in the palm of your hand where his thumb had traced the patterns of lines there. You felt it in your lips that he had kissed and in your tongue ached inside of your mouth from your stupid secret.

You reached for your phone. You opened the app for the power he’d given only to you and you responded to her message as if you were Baekhyun.

-Hi, Yeah, that sounds fine. I’ll meet you at 1pm.

Your hands moved on their own. You moved to the internal commands of your app and you deleted both of the messages from the chat history. When you picked up his phone you saw the notification for Mia’s message vanish before your eyes and when you unlocked it and accessed his chat log, there was no sign of the unimaginable and unforgivable sin you had just committed against him.

Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 4 , Part 5 , Part 6 , Part 7 , Part 8 , Part 9 , Part 10

Tag list: @j-pping @blahblahblah-boo @his-mochi-cheeks @amyeonzing@littleflowercrown13 @baekinmylife @insta1010 @nana-banana @f4ncyvelvet@bbhbeth @totallynerdstuff @byunbabybaek @maijinki @bbyunz@theclawofaraven @kingkushdealer @uhobob @baekswifey @punchmebaekhyun @xlxbaekhyuneex

#baekhyun #baekhyun fanfic #exo #exo fanfic #exo fic #baekhyun fic #baekhyun ff #exo ff #baekhyun scenario #baekhyun chaptered #baekhyun fluff #baekhyun angst #baekhyun smut

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codename-adler · 4 years ago

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foxes + onesies (8/9)

based off of that one post i saw and don’t remember, where people once caught Allison wandering around Fox Tower in a giraffe onesie, and i absolutely melted for her. here is the Foxes’ journey to getting a onesie each!

Aaron

TW: mentions of hospitalization and drugs, implications of abuse, mental illness and murder

Aaron tries very hard

that phrase alone could very well sum up his existence

he tries to be a good student

he tries to be a good backliner

he tries to be a good teammate

he tries to be a good person

he tries to be a go- he tries to be a brother

he tries so, so hard

but life is harder

he’d tried being a good son, and failed

his mother was dead, and died hating him

he’d tried being a good boyfriend, and failed

Katelyn was gone, and left him crying

so Aaron was trying, and now?

he was trying to find himself, to grow, to heal…

which was very, very difficult when in counselling sessions with your just-as-traumatized twin brother

they’d both worked through Andrew and Neil’s non-relationship, and through Aaron and Katelyn’s fallout

Aaron had expected it to be the other way around

turns out that while he thought Katelyn deserved better, she thought he deserved better too

she had her own demons to deal with too, in the end

and so while everyone pretty much expected Aaron’s demons to be too big for Katelyn, it was hers that had been too much for the both of them

he couldn’t reach her, couldn’t get through to her, couldn’t help her

one fateful night, she had asked him, sobbing and breathless, to make the call

the call to take her away, the call to save her from herself

the paramedics had put her on a gurney, and they had said their goodbyes

I’m sorry Aaron… I’m so sorry, I wanted to be strong for you… I don’t know what’s wrong with me, I’m so scared… It hurts so much, Aaron… I’m sorry… Please take care of yourself, baby, please… I’m sorry…

she was wheeled away, and hadn’t seen her in a year since

they corresponded, though

4 months into her admission at a private psychiatric hospital, she had sent him a handwritten letter

she had told him about her routine, her new friendships, her therapists…

she’d told him about the work she was doing on herself, about the traumas she had been too ashamed to share with him…

after the fifth or sixth letter, Aaron had started responding

he never told anyone

until this week

he’d lost count of how many letters he’d received from her, and how many he’d sent her back

but this letter…

this one was different

this one broke his heart so much, that he walked out of his dorm, the letter still clutched in one hand, grabbed Andrew on his way out of Fox Tower, and made him drive to Betsy’s office

without a single word

Betsy was surprised, to say the least, to see Aaron entering first, distress in his eyes, and Andrew following close behind, clueless

Aaron handed Betsy the letter, sat down, elbows on his knees, head in his hands, eyes closed

Bee: Correct me if I’m wrong, Aaron, but from what I understand of the situation, you would like to share this with Andrew?

Aaron: And with you. Bee.

Bee: That is very generous of you Aaron. And brave. Would you like me to read the letter out loud?

Aaron nodded, never looking up

My dear Aaron,

What I’m about to tell you in this letter is very different from our usual correspondence. You know I’ve been working on things since the beginning of my hospitalization. Big things. Ugly things. But important things. And you are not a thing, Aaron, but you are important. You were forced to play a role in the mess that was my life, but that role saved me. From myself. You made the tough call, you took it upon yourself to protect me, even if it meant putting me away and losing me. Losing us.

I’m not so good with spoken words, and I feel safe here, in this bubble we’ve created for ourselves. But I would like you to believe me when I say that the words I’m about to tell you, I would repeat them to you outloud for the rest of my life if it could make amends for what I’ve put you through. One word from you and I would come in person to tell you how much I mean them.

I am grateful for you, Aaron Minyard.

I am eternally thankful that you have crossed the path of my life. You have helped me in more ways than you know, in more ways that I could possibly imagine. It’s so important that you know that, Aaron. It’s important to me, because you deserve to know, and you deserve the recognition. Because I know you don’t think much of yourself. Because I know you think this was all your fault. Because I know you, a little bit, at least. You did the best you could with what you had, and it was enough, Aaron. You cared for me when you didn’t have to, when you couldn’t, when you were going through it yourself, and I can’t thank you enough. But I can try. So here it is: Thank you, Aaron. Thank you. For everything. You were amazing.

However, there is another thing I need to say. A harder thing. But I must take responsibility for my actions, for both my sake and yours. You need to know. You need to know.

I am sorry, Aaron. I am sorry that you had to make that call. I am sorry that you had to witness my breakdown. I am sorry that I had to leave like that. I am sorry that I broke your heart. I am sorry for all the pain and hardship I’ve put you through. I am sorry for all the times I’ve lashed out at you, when really I wanted to lash out at my life. I am sorry for all the times I hurt you, when really I wanted to hurt myself. I am sorry that you had to watch me fall like that. I am sorry that you had to pick up the pieces alone, that you had to get back up alone. I am sorry for all the times I’ve said cruel things just to be mean and to hurt you, for all the grief I’ve caused you, all of it. This is my official, explicit, conscious and honest apology to you. I’m apologizing for all the wrongs I’ve done you, because it was my fault and you didn’t deserve any of it. I take full responsibility. And I am not expecting forgiveness in return. This is a no-strings-attached apology. I could apologize to you forever and still not be worthy of your forgiveness. So I won’t be waiting for it. I won’t be begging for it. This is all yours. I’m sorry, Aaron. I need you to know that. Because I know you think you deserve what happened, because I know you think it was all your fault. It wasn’t. It was mine. It is still mine. And know that I am not only apologizing in words. I will try everything in my power to make it up to you. Whatever it takes. I promise you that, Aaron.

Love,

Katelyn

as Betsy folded the letter, Aaron’s tears dripped down on the office carpet

Andrew was silent, eyes fixed on the piece of paper

Betsy waited a few minutes to let everyone soak in the moment

Bee: This is a very beautiful and heartfelt letter, Aaron. From what I understand, you and Katelyn have been writing letters since she “moved”?

Aaron nodded, still silently crying in his hands

Bee: Are your exchanges always like this?

Aaron shook his head

Bee: Okay, I see. Is this the first time a letter from her has made you cry?

another nod from Aaron

Bee: And why do you think that is?

Aaron: I don’t know…

his voice was rough from crying

Bee: Well, I think I might have an inkling, you tell me if it resonates with you. I believe, Aaron, that this is the first time someone has ever formally apologized to you, yeah? You are not someone that has grown up with that kind of care, that kind of responsibility. That kind of praise. I think you know that this is some kind of opportunity for closure, of course, but it goes deeper than that, doesn’t it? Someone cares for the wrongs they’ve done, for the hurt they’ve caused you. And you are not used to that. You are not used to being apologized to. You are not used to this type of kindness. Katelyn did not have to apologize and express her gratefulness. You didn’t expect her to. But she did. That means something to you, yeah?

Aaron’s heart broke a little more at that, before mending a little, too

he cried harder

and Andrew was watching all of this from his seat, seemingly unconcerned

he knew this wasn’t necessarily about him, that this was about Katelyn, and Aaron, and about showing Andrew that she didn’t deserve his hatred and his knives

but he did care

after he drove Aaron back to the dorms and told Kevin to watch his brother, he went for a drive

to think

he only came back once he had thought of something to do with Aaron

damn Josten for softening him

he threw Neil and Nicky out of their dorm, and went to retrieve the Stitch onesie from the back of his closet

he looked for the brand tag, looked it up online and made his purchase

he even paid for accelerated shipping

the day his order arrived, he went to the same convenience store where he’d found his precious DVD, and bought a stupid ugly postcard with a lighthouse on it

in a very neat handwriting, Andrew wrote what he had to say

he then went looking for his brother, but he didn’t have to look far

since that session with Bee, where Kevin was, Aaron usually was too

and Kevin was always at the court

but Andrew found them both sitting on the court’s floor, all geared up, yet watching something non Exy-related on Kevin’s phone

weird

that didn’t stop Andrew

he went back to the locker room, refusing to disturb the weird little thing that was going on there

he left the package and the postcard in Aaron’s locker, and left

a few hours later, as Kevin went to shower and Aaron opened his locker, Andrew’s gift was found

the postcard had slipped to the back of the locker, so Aaron retrieved the plastic bag and opened it first

he didn’t understand

it was a big, fluffy thing, bright yellow

what the fuck

it’s Pikachu

it’s a Pikachu onesie

it’s a fucking Pikachu onesie

what the fuck

he hadn’t thought about Pokemons since… well, since Tilda died

he had collected them, the cards, and the figurines

but he’d sold the toys for drug money

and he’d lost all his cards in the… accident

he’d left his three hundred-something card collection in the car, for some reason he couldn’t remember

but the crash had burnt and bloodied them all

when Nicky had adopted the twins, he had bought Aaron some new ones, but it didn’t compare… it couldn’t replace what he had lost

and now he was holding an adult-sized Pikachu one-piece pajama

he still couldn’t wrap his head around it when he found the postcard peeking from the back of his locker

he took it, his hand trembling terribly

he read the back

later, Kevin found Aaron sitting on the bench, still in his Exy uniform, smiling but crying

He’s so fucking stupid, Kevin, look at this shit

Kevin looked, indeed, at this shit

Kevin didn’t understand what he was looking at, but then Aaron handed him the postcard

Aaaron hadn’t told this story to anyone but Kevin, so he understood immediately what it said, and who wrote it

Kevin placed his big hand on the back of Aaron’s neck and squeezed a bit, an offer of comfort

he still didn’t understand what the yellow monstrosity was supposed to be, but he understood what it all meant

Aaron held the card closer to his heart than the onesie

everytime things became hard with Andrew, he wore Pikachu and he looked at the postcard

he focused on the little lighthouse, on the small, precise letters, on the ink of the pen

he focused on the words

Sorry I trashed your Pokemon cards

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cakesunflower · 4 years ago

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Inevitable [C.H. One Shot]

Summary: What was meant to be the best day of Adeline’s life took an unexpected turn, and so running out of her wedding only to walk into a bar owned by her high school ex-boyfriend seemed like some kind of act of fate. Heartbreak, nostalgia, and lingering love had quite a time coming together to bring the inevitable.

A/N: YEEET this is my bartender!Calum x runaway bride!OC one shot that i started writing literally mONTHS ago. it’s a whopping 27,299 words so sit back and enjoy the words. hehe happy reading!

The one good thing about New York City was despite it being full of so many people, no one really looked at anyone else twice. Or, well, maybe they did but they were quick to go back to minding their own business, not particularly caring of what some stranger in a bustling city looked like or was doing. Adeline was grateful for those kinds of people, especially in this moment, as she wandered down the street in aching heels and a dress with tulle that dragged behind her as she went. The loud city and hundreds of people surrounding her worked hard in occupying her mind, but her thoughts and memories of just an hour before were much louder.

“—nervous about getting married?”

Adeline paused as she picked up on the voice of Keith, her fiancé’s best friend since high school. She’d managed to sneak out of the bridal suite, somehow slipping past her best friends and finding herself in the small room that held vending machines. The ceremony was just moments away from starting but Adeline, who’d watched what she ate for months to fit into her dress, was in dire need of a snack. So she found the vending machine room in the hotel, popped in some change and got herself a small packet of M&Ms. Not exactly a meal, but it’d suffice for now.

Who the fuck knew her little escapade would lead her to overhearing something that would ruin what was to be the happiest day of her life.

“No,” Ian, her fiancé, responded after a droll snort. “Pretty excited, honestly.” His response had a small smile curling at Adeline’s lips, putting some ease at her own jitter nerves. “All that money her aunt left her? Can’t wait to get my hands on it, man. Adeline didn’t even make me sign a prenup or anything, which she’ll end up regretting.”

Adeline blinked, heart dropping to the pit of her stomach as her lips parted in disbelief over what she was hearing. For a moment, she wanted to believe that she was somehow mishearing or misinterpreting Ian’s words, but that voice that had been gnawing at the back of her mind for the past few months was louder than ever before, screaming at her that it was right in its suspicions over Ian. The man she loved, or thought she did, had become someone completely different from when they first got engaged five months ago—and from when Adeline came into her Aunt Lorraine’s money after she passed away two months ago.

It had been a devastating loss to Adeline, since her Aunt Lorraine was the only living relative she had. Her parents had died when she was young, no grandparents to take her in, save for Aunt Lorraine, who was her mom’s older sister and the only sibling from either of her parents’ side. Lorraine wasn’t married nor did she have kids of her own, but she took in Adeline and raised her. She was a wealthy woman, able to provide for Adeline no matter what, and losing her had been unbearable, wondering how the universe could be so cruel to take away the only family Adeline had ever known.

She almost canceled the wedding, unable to go through with it without her Aunt Lorraine walking her down the aisle, but Ian had convinced her to do so. For Lorraine.

Adeline was realizing, with her stomach churning in disgust and anger and grief, that Ian wanted to do so for Lorraine’s money.

God. She should’ve noticed the change. She should’ve listened to herself when she started getting doubts about marrying Ian—but she’d chalked it up to nerves. She thought her moments of doubt when she’d ask herself if this was what she really wanted were just that—doubts. Because she loved Ian, didn’t she? They’d been together for three years, how could she so easily just want to throw away a relationship for that long?

Adeline had felt guilty for even having those thoughts in the first place. But hearing Ian’s words right now, words that were telling her he only wanted her for money, washed away the guilt. She’d always had more money than him, thanks to her own job as well as being raised by Lorraine, and over the years Adeline had become blind and deaf to Ian’s remarks and insecurities pertaining to it. He’d always been stuffed about her making more than him, about her having more. But, shit, she didn’t expect for it to be this much of a big deal. She didn’t expect it to create a deceitful relationship.

Her body tensed, clenching the M&Ms she had in her hand, as her jaw worked and the disappointed, dull ache in her chest transformed into fiery anger. She glared at the door that Ian was on the other side of, her back straightening with newfound resolution. She couldn’t regret not getting a prenup if she didn’t get married.

Adeline glanced down at her feet. She wondered just how far she could run in these heels before her feet gave out.

A blaring horn passing by jolted Adeline back into the present, blinking as she realized she was no longer at the hotel, but in the streets of downtown Manhattan. Adeline sucked in a breath, feeling the familiar burn in her eyes and grinded her teeth together as she kept moving, weaving her way through the other pedestrians. She knew it was normal to tear up in this circumstance, no fault in mourning over the absolute death of what was supposed to be the happiest day of her life, but she didn’t want to.

She refused to cry. Her heart was heavy, her throat was dry and her head hurt but she refused to cry. She wasn’t going to waste her tears on a man who didn’t deserve them. But it would be a lie to say she didn’t wish Aunt Lorraine was here to help her through it.

Adeline almost mistook a drop of water on her cheek as a tear that may have escaped her eye, but then the familiar growl of thunder rumbled through the sky, and Adeline looked up exasperatedly at the sight of the greying clouds gathering above the skyscrapers. Looking around, she noticed some people duck out to get cover, others pulling out umbrellas, and Adeline let out a groan. Today truly was proving to be utter shit.

And then it started drizzling, and Adeline cursed as she gathered the skirt of her dress—praising herself for not going with too much puff—and picked up her pace, looking around for a safe haven she could pass the time in. So when her eyes landed on a neon sign that read Sensation, registering that it was a bar, Adeline decided she could use a drink or two to put her out of her misery and hastily approached the door.

She stumbled in just when the rain began picking up, her skin and dress only slightly wet, catching the attention of the few souls scattered around the bar. And why wouldn’t she? She was practically glimmering in the beaded bodice of her dress, the sparkle of her makeup and glittering jewelry. Utterly standing out in the atmosphere of the bar with brick walls and band posters, classic rock playing through the speakers mixed with the sounds of the overhead TV playing some soccer game and pool balls clinking in the back.

It was obvious she didn’t belong in her bridal get up. But, God, she didn’t care.

Her rampant emotions left her feeling a bit numb, Adeline realized, as she forced her feet to move to head over to the bar on the left. It wasn’t too particularly busy at the moment, and Adeline didn’t care for the few eyes that she could feel on her as she neared the bar. She didn’t blame them for staring—so long as no one tried to talk to her. Holding a conversation wasn’t something Adeline thought herself to be capable of at the moment. Holding down a drink, however, was a different story.

She plopped herself down on the far end of the bar, the dress flowing as she glared at the wooden bar top, feeling the pity and anger and sadness rush through her. It was simmering, like a pot of boiling water, ready to explode when it reached its peak. How desperately did Adeline crave one of Aunt Lorraine’s hugs where she felt at her safest.

For a moment, the only person Adeline was angry at was herself. There had been a couple of times, only a few, where over the three years she’d been with Ian, Aunt Lorraine would express her curiosities to Adeline, asking her if she was sure if Ian was the one. Even after they got engaged, but Adeline had always stupidly dismissed her. The majority of her was convinced in her heart that Ian was who she wanted to spend the rest of her life with, was sure he felt the same when he proposed. But love turned out to be tricky, and it had just played a cruel joke on Adeline.

Beads of water could be felt on her skin as they traveled from the curve of her shoulder, down her collarbones and disappeared into the sweetheart neckline of her dress. Dark brown hair that used to be tied into an elegant bun was now loose as strands stuck to her tanned skin. Adeline momentarily wondered if her makeup was smudged, but then quickly deduced that she didn’t give a fuck.

“Think you’ve made a wrong turn, sweetheart.”

Adeline’s face immediately scrunched into a scowl, ready to tell whoever’s deep voice just drawled to fuck off, until she looked up. She stared at the man in front of her on the other side of the bar, a black half sleeved shirt fitted and tucked into black pants, showing off tattoos inking his golden skin. Blonde hair sat messily atop his head and familiar dark eyes widened slightly, whether it was because he was taking in her attire or recognizing her—or both.

The incredulity slackened her jaw as she gaped at him in return, wondering if she was imagining him, wondering why her subconscious would conjure him up in the first place. But despite his different hair color, Adeline could never forget him or the accented drawl of his voice. Her back straightened, breath still in her lungs as she managed to sound out, “Calum?”

Her high school ex-boyfriend let out a disbelieving scoff of his own as he braced his hands on the bar, dark eyes looking into Adeline’s lighter ones as he gave a shake of his head. “Holy shit,” was how he responded, his low voice carrying a matured rasp he didn’t have back when they were teenagers. He’d grown, obviously, since she last saw him when she was eighteen, he was nearly twenty. Grown into his features, seemingly taller, with a sharp jaw and eyes she’d always seen as both alluring and kind. With another scoff, he added, “I feel like I’m in an episode of Friends.”

At that, Adeline pursed her lips, unable to keep the unimpressed expression from her face. She wasn’t quite in the mood to joke about her appearance—or spare a thought as to why she was dressed like this in the first place. No, she did not want to think about how she was meant to be getting married right now, did not want to give attention to the seemingly permanent heaviness in her chest where her heart was supposed to be.

So she forced herself to look past Calum, at the shelves of liquor behind him, before stating, “I’ll take a Hennessy and Coke. Heavy on the Hennessy, please.”

Adeline didn’t need to directly look at Calum to notice the raise of his eyebrows, biting her tongue for her snippy tone as she looked down at the wooden bar top that had scratches on it. Any other day, Adeline knew she would feel happy to see Calum, thrilled, even. But today didn’t feel like the appropriate day.

Even if the blood in her veins seem to pick up at the sight of him.

Fortunately, after regarding her for a moment as she felt his eyes take her in—glancing up only briefly to see the curiosity and confusion and a flash of something else swimming in his gaze—Calum turned to get her drink. Adeline’s light brown eyes trailed after him cautiously, pointedly ignoring the few men and women scattered around the bar, knowing their gazes were shifting to her every now and then. Instead, she watched the tattooed man fix her drink, just barely acknowledging the tug of something she could feel at him being in front of her.

It had been, what, seven years or so since she last saw him—since they’d broken up. A high school relationship both had believed would go beyond yet it never did. A break up neither of them had particularly wanted, but with school and distance putting a strain on their relationship, it had been the mutual and right thing to do. Despite the amount of nights Adeline remembered crying in her dorm room because she missed him so much. So many countless nights were spent like that, alone and yearning, and heartbroken.

Until she met Ian.

But that all went to shit, too, didn’t it?

Adeline found herself glaring at her hands, which were linked together at the bar top. More specifically, at the now empty ring finger of her left hand, where a faint tan line of where her engagement ring used to be resided after months of being occupied. Her finger felt naked, empty. She wondered if that would be a forever thing, the emptiness and betrayal that had taken up residence in the pit of her stomach, kind of like how this night was supposed to be a forever thing. Not anymore, though. The only forever thing on her hands were the tattoos on the insides of both of her wrists; roman numeral dates of her parents’ birthdays on her left, and the date of when Aunt Lorraine legally adopted her on her right.

“Are you sure this is where you’re supposed to be?” Calum spoke up again, a cautious tilt in his voice as he placed the glass in front of her, his accent lurking beneath the smooth husk of his voice. Adeline’s gaze flickered up to look at him, took in the muted curiosity that didn’t do too good a job to hide the concern she wasn’t sure he should be feeling, and reached for the glass before downing half of the drink.

The bitter Hennessy stood out against the sweet Coke, but Adeline welcomed the slightly burning taste as it ran down her throat and tingled her veins. And when she put the glass down, half empty, Adeline looked up to see Calum’s raised eyebrows before smiling wryly, “Here is better than there.”

She put her phone on the bar top, feeling Calum’s eyes on her as she changed the settings to Do Not Disturb after receiving dozens upon dozens of messages from her friends, a couple family members she didn’t talk to much anyway, and Ian. She didn’t even bother looking at his messages, throat tight, and opted to only respond to her best friend, Gabby, to let her know she was okay and safe and that she just couldn’t go through with the wedding, promising details later. Once that reassurance was out of the way, Adeline refused to answer anyone else’s messages and calls, knowing Gabby would take care of it. No one else was important, anyway. It’s not like she had much family. The vultures definitely did not count.

Adeline felt a burn in her eyes, mentally cursing herself for the tears that threatened to fall as she quickly blinked them back with a sharp inhale. Despite herself, she looked up, watching as Calum leaned back against the counter of liquor behind him, not having anyone else to serve as he crossed his arms over his chest. Adeline tried to ignore the way his biceps seemed to strain against the tight material of his shirt—yeah, he’d definitely grown since she last saw him—and kept her focus on her drink.

Casually, she heard Calum inquire, “Get left at the altar?”

Adeline released the thin black straw she’d been drinking out of, letting out an affronted and humorless scoff as she shot him a really? look. “No. I’m the one that did the leaving.” She caught the way his eyebrows twitched upwards, hoping to control his surprised expression but not entirely succeeding, and Adeline would’ve laughed if she had the energy. Instead, she let out another self-deprecating scoff. “I had a good reason—he turned out to be a gold digger.” Raising her glass, elbow propped on the bar top, Adeline smirked wryly, “Mo’ money, mo’ problems.”

She wondered if he remembered her Aunt Lorraine—they’d always been fond of one another. Hell, at this point, Adeline could be sure that Calum was probably the only boyfriend of hers that Aunt Lorraine approved of. Calum tilted his head ever so slightly, eyebrows knitting together. “And you didn’t find out until the day of your wedding?”

She didn’t need to be reminded of how oblivious she had gotten—especially from her ex-boyfriend. “Love is blind.”

Calum pursed his lips as Adeline took another sip of her drink, gaze wandering above his head before landing on two pictures framed on the wall. She narrowed her eyes at one of the photos, consisting of Calum sitting around what looked like a fire pit, drink in his hand and grin on his face as he sat with three other guys—two of whom Adeline immediately recognized as Michael Clifford and Luke Hemmings, two other guys she had gone to school with, both of whom happened to be Calum’s best friend. She fought the smile that surprisingly tugged at her lips; he still hung out with them.

“Adeline,” Calum sighed, the solemn tone in his voice tightening her muscles as she took in the sympathetic expression he wore, eyebrows furrowed together and lips tugged downwards. He gave a shake of his head. “I’m so—”

“Please, don’t.” Her voice was hard, cutting in before he could finish his sentiment, just barely steady. Adeline’s light brown eyes met Calum’s dark, watching as he rolled his lips into his mouth, and she hoped the lighting of the bar didn’t give away how heavy her eyes felt with the tears that had gathered. Adeline just knew if she focused too much on her situation, she would break down right in this bar. “I don’t need anyone’s sympathy.” She swallowed, unable to get rid of the lump in her throat as she added in a whisper, “Please.”

Calum lifted his chin, the muscle in his jaw jumping as she saw the acceptance settle in his features. Some relief relaxed her; Calum had always been one to listen to her. She appreciated it back then and she did now, as well, as he remained silent while Adeline sipped her drink. It warmed her up and for a while, she forgot that she was a bit wet from being in the drizzle for a couple of moments. That’s why she kept sipping her drink, hoping to become numb to the cruel joke that had just been played on her, hoping to forget the humiliation and heartbreak and anger that formed a rampant tornado in her head and stomach.

“Do you—” She lifted her gaze right as Calum cut himself off, taking in the subtle furrow between his eyebrows as he eyed her. He looked conflicted, as if he was unsure if he wanted to finish his question. But when his dark eyes met hers, Calum let out a breath before stepping towards the bar and asked, “Would you like a change of clothes, Addie?”

Her throat locked at the nickname that fell from his lips, grip on the glass tightening. She never thought she’d hear him say it again—didn’t think she’d want him to until the moment he said it. It rolled off his lips so easily, so naturally, and it tugged at her heart once again. But Adeline expertly pushed the feeling aside, gaze dropping to her clothes, biting the inside of her lower lip as she took in the dress.

It was the perfect dress for the perfect day. But as soon as Calum mentioned changing out of it, it suddenly felt too constricting, entrapping her in the moment of finding out the truth about Ian. She needed it off, Adeline realized, the bodice suddenly itching at her chest and tulle weighing down her seated figure. Her perfect day was ruined—not that it was ever truly perfect without her Aunt Lorraine—and now her perfect dress felt like an ugly Halloween costume she needed to be rid of quickly.

She finally looked at Calum, who was patiently waiting for her answer, and she nodded. Her voice was an unsteady whisper under the music playing throughout the bar, her emotions gradually taking a turn for the worse, as she responded, “Yes.”

Calum nodded, looking to his right as he said, “I’m gonna head up for a couple of mins, alright?” He was speaking to the other bartender that was on the other end of the bar, who nodded before Calum looked at Adeline and encouraged, “Come on.”

Her eyebrows furrowed slightly as he walked from around the bar, but Adeline grabbed her phone and stood up, the shuffle of her dress recapturing the attention of the other patrons of the bar. This time, though, Adeline felt her face flush as they eyed her not so subtly, keeping her gaze down and using her hands to grip the skirt of her dress as she walked to where Calum waited for her, her heels clicking against the floor as she went.

She didn’t dare meet Calum’s, or anyone’s, gaze as he began walking, wanting nothing more than to push down the embarrassment that flushed her skin and churned her stomach. But, truly, it felt nothing compared to the ache in her chest she still refused to acknowledge.

Calum led her to the far back of the bar, through what Adeline realized was the storage room stocked with bottles of different kinds of alcohol, before they reached a door that Calum unlocked with a set of keys he pulled out from his pocket. “Come on,” he murmured, and Adeline followed him up a wide flight of stairs that were surprisingly well lit, the click of her heels sharper than the music playing out in the bar.

Adeline moved carefully, holding the tulle of her skirt bunched up in one hand while holding onto the railing with the other, Calum’s footsteps thudding a lot more heavily on the wooden steps as they went up. They got to the top landing, turning a corner and Adeline watched as Calum used another key to unlock yet another door.

She followed him into an apartment, open and spacious, with wooden floors and bricked walls that gave it the kind of New York style Adeline loved. Her living room was the same way. It was bigger than Adeline would expect for it to be, yet the size of it was perfect for someone living on their own. The living room and kitchen were only separated by a counter, bar stools on the side of the living room reminiscent of the bar downstairs. Windows in the living room framed with parted curtains allowed for the view of the rained out city outside, glass stained with droplets that smacked against it.

“Let me grab you a towel and, uh, something to wear,” Calum said after he shut the door, and Adeline nodded silently before watching him walk down a hall before turning into a room on the right.

She idled awkwardly by the stools, becoming all too aware of the chills rising on her drying skin as she stood in the somewhat chilly apartment. Tendrils of hair that escaped from her now messy updo stuck to the back of her neck and the diamond earrings seemed to be weighing her down. But nothing like the weight that settled on her chest.

“Here—hopefully you can tighten the sweats. And I, uh, got a hanger for you to hang the dress.” Calum’s voice pulled Adeline’s attention, the short chuckle escaping him as he approached her. In his hands was a folded pair of black sweatpants, a shirt, and a towel for her to dry off with, a hanger sitting on top. “The bathrooms right over there.”

Adeline took the small pile from him, an appreciative smile quirking at her lips as she murmured a soft thanks. She moved around him, feeling his gaze on her and the ruffle of her dress as she approached the bathroom. Adeline put the pile on the counter as something clicked in her head, letting out a breath as she realized she wouldn’t be able to take off the dress by herself. Gabby had to zip up the back for her, and Adeline knew she couldn’t reach the back on her own. Damn it.

“Hey, Calum?” She chewed on the inside of her lower lip as he appeared in the doorway a moment later, eyebrows raised in question and Adeline didn’t pay much attention to the drumming of her heart, knowing it was out of embarrassment. That’s all she was capable of feeling today—humiliation. His brown eyes met her lighter ones, and through the flush of her cheeks, Adeline asked quietly, “Could you, uh, help unzip me?”

His gaze flickered down to the dress, forehead smoothing out in realization and Adeline pretended she didn’t notice the way his throat worked. With a quick lick of his lips, Calum answered, “Yeah, sure.”

She held her breath despite herself as she turned, focusing her attention on the baby blue colored shower curtain in an attempt to ignore the feel of Calum’s fingers at her back. Adeline pressed her teeth together as she felt him grip the top of the dress before his other hand grasped the small zipper. The quick beating of her heart drove Adeline crazy, frowning at herself because seriously? She could feel Calum’s body right behind her, his heat radiating in their proximity, and despite the years between them, Adeline’s throat dried at the familiarity of it. A kind of warmth she had once loved being wrapped up in, even if it was all the way back in high school.

Somethings she never forgot. Calum Hood was one of them, it seemed.

The sharp yet quiet sound of the zipper coming undone rang in Adeline’s ears, and she pressed her palm against the bodice of her dress just in case as the now loose dress relaxed the narrow off the shoulder tulle straps of her dress. There had been a time where Calum knew her better than she knew herself—was he aware that him being so close was sending her heart into overdrive? That when she should, like perhaps a normal person, be grieving over the end of a three year relationship—the explosion of her wedding day being absolutely fucked—she was instead biting the tip of her tongue in an attempt to focus on anything but the warmth of his fingers on her back?

God—what was wrong with her? In the span of two months, she’d lost her Aunt Lorraine and her fiancé. How could she be standing there getting overwhelmed by the mere act of an ex-boyfriend standing behind her?

Granted, he was unzipping her dress, but that was besides the point.

Adeline gripped the front of the dress close to her chest, even though she knew it wasn’t just about to fall around her feet, and she felt a chill slither down her now exposed back as she took a hasty step forward, putting some distance between the two of them. Her free hand grabbed the doorknob and, not quite meeting Calum’s gaze, rushed out, “Thanks,” just as he stepped back as well, allowing her to close the door before he could respond.

Her soft whisper of, “Oh, my God,” felt loud in the quiet of the bathroom, but Adeline shook her head as she turned to face the mirror above the sink, inhaling sharply as she took in her reflection. Her makeup, for the most part, seemed to be intact—the waterproof mascara really having done its due diligence. Only the lipstick she’d worn had began to chaste away, and Adeline pursed her lips as she looked into the eyes of her reflection.

Though she hadn’t shed many tears, Adeline could see the red rims of her eyes, strained from the onslaught of tears she had managed to hold back. The glow she had woken up with that morning, excited in the best way to get married to who she thought was the love of her life, had disappeared, leaving Adeline a dull reminiscent of who she had been just a few hours prior. Even the professionally done makeup failed to hide the impact of her life being leveled right before her, making her appear as hollow as she felt. In the quiet and privacy of the bathroom, reality settled, allowing Adeline to finally, deeply acknowledge how fucked up her life had become within a blink of an eye.

It would be so unbelievable easy to fall into a heap in the corner of the bathroom, dress and all, and succumb to the torment in her heart that troubled her. Without any eyes on her, how easy would it be to just finally break the hell down.

But as quickly as that thought came into her head, it was just as quickly thrown out of her head. She didn’t want to cry over Ian, despite knowing that she wasn’t going to cry over him rather than what happened to her. Adeline had never been one to care much for what other people thought, never listened to gossip whether it was among her friends or her family, but she already knew the amount of shit she was going to get from family that she barely talked to in the first place.

She really wished Aunt Lorraine was with her.

Adeline took in a deep breath, sniffing afterwards as she shook her head at herself. No. She wasn’t going to fall into an abyss of self pity—not in Calum’s bathroom anyway.

So she let the dress fall around her ankles, stepping out of it and using the hanger Calum had helpfully provided to hang up the heavy article before hanging it on the hook on the door. Grabbing the towel, the soft material was gentle against her somewhat damp skin as she dried herself off, eyes landing on the clothes folded for her. Once again, Adeline’s throat tightened, memories of when they were in high school playing through her mind, moments of when she’d go to the soccer games in either his jersey or varsity jacket.

How funny was fate, bringing her to her ex-boyfriend in the midst of running from her fiancé?

Adeline’s fingers brushed along the soft material of the shirt. Yeah; fate was a funny thing, and something told her she shouldn’t take this turn of events with a grain of salt.

*****

Calum’s fingers rhythmically tapped against the counter, a small attempt of grounding himself into reality to prevent losing himself to the thoughts swirling around his head. He had pulled his phone out to further distract him, and yet he kept glancing to the right in the direction of the hall, all to aware of the woman in his bathroom. If he was being honest, he was in a state of disbelief, had been since the second Adeline’s eyes met his and he realized who exactly the woman in a fucking wedding dress in his bar was.

The past had slapped him in the face with the arrival of Adeline Grace, just as beautiful as he remembered her being—because even today, years after since he last saw her, she was a sight meant to only be admired. Six years separated the two of them and yet, the second he recognized her, she had sent his heart into his throat like she used to every time when they were younger. He didn’t try to think about her often, but that always failed, and she was present in his thoughts mostly when he lay alone in his bed at night and his head started picking apart every aspect of his life as a way of tiring him out to finally go to sleep. That’s when her face often flashed across his mind, the frozen image of an eighteen year old Adeline because that was the last time he’d actually seen her. Even in the age of social media, Calum didn’t give into his darkest desires of looking he up. He always figured it would only end up hurting him.

Was this the universe’s distorted way of rewarding him for his self control?

Out of all the bars in New York, Adeline just happened to walk into his—from her abandoned wedding, no less. Even in the face of betrayal and heartache, Adeline was a picture of beauty, and Calum felt guilty for regarding her as such when she was so obviously going through what could arguably be the worst day of her life. Still, Calum believed in things happening for a reason, he believed in the idea of the universe working in a person’s favor even if it didn’t feel like it at the time—and he’s had many of those—and no matter the circumstances, he couldn’t help but believe that his high school ex-girlfriend showing up to his bar on what was to be her wedding day meant something more.

But he’d never say it to Adeline. Not today, or ever—he wasn’t sure. All he wanted to do was help her however he could; turning her away would never be an option, that much he knew. He’d kind of made that mistake already, hadn’t he, in some way?

Soon enough, he heard the familiar creak of the bathroom door opening and he instantly sat up, locking his phone as he watched Adeline emerge. He propped his right elbow on the back of the stool, body turning as his gaze took in the sight of her in clothes that were far too big for her—his clothes. She used the drawstrings of the sweatpants to tighten them as much as she could, one shoulder of his plain red shirt hanging low on her collarbone; she was practically swimming in his clothes, and the silver heels on her feet only further mismatched her outfit.

Calum figured she took a while in there because of her hair—which had been made into an updo when she arrived, and was now falling around her shoulders in waves, rid of the army of pins that had been holding it up. Out of the dress and in his clothes, Adeline looked small, despite the added height her heels gave her five-foot-six figure, playing with her nude painted nails as she slowly walked towards him, her heels clicking against the floor.

“I, uh—” Adeline paused, vaguely gesturing towards the bathroom as she looked at him. She suddenly seemed shy, quiet, and it stirred something in the pit of Calum’s stomach. It wasn’t her, he knew, her demeanor taking a hit from what the day had already done to her. “I left my dress hanging just so it could dry a little.”

Calum nodded, brown eyes taking her in. She was playing with her phone in her hand, her nerves acting up, and Calum pulled his lower lip into his mouth briefly because he knew she didn’t know what to do next. So he stood up, ticking his head towards the door. “Come on—let me get you another drink.”

He heard her follow him out the apartment, waiting for him in the landing as he locked his door before the two of them descended the stairs and went back to the bar. Calum walked behind the counter as Adeline returned to her seat, and he felt his eyes on her as he made her another drink.

When he placed it in front of her and Adeline took it with a gentle thanks, Calum let out a quiet breath. “Listen, Addie—” She looked up at him and Calum bit the inside of his cheek as her nickname slipped past his tongue without much thought. She didn’t seem bothered by it. “I know you’re probably not in the mood but just so you know—if you wanna talk about it, I’m here.” With a soft smirk, he added, “Bartenders are good listeners.”

Her light brown eyes remained locked with his darker ones, fingers absently twirling the thin black straw in her drink. The light of the bar glimmered against her eyes, and he saw the gentle curve of her lips as she responded, “You’d been a good listener long before you became a bartender, Calum.” Her words had Calum’s smile returning, soft as his eyebrows drew together, taking a breath. Adeline’s gaze dropped, eyeing the drink in front of her as she pulled her lower lip into her mouth. “I don’t even know if there’s anything to talk about, y’know?” she spoke up and Calum braced his hands on the bar top. “I don’t know if he was a liar from the beginning and I just didn’t see it, or if something changed along the way.”

Calum took a breath, chin lifting as he peered down at her. The dejected, conflicted expression on her face tugged at his heart. “I think you would’ve known something was off if he, y’know, had an agenda from the start.”

Adeline let out a disbelieving scoff, lifting her gaze to look up at him through long eyelashes. “Would I?” she asked, the sadness in her eyes only showing off the emptiness she felt as she cupped her glass. “I have a habit of not seeing what’s right in front of me.” She dropped her gaze then, lips twisting to the side, and Calum’s throat worked at her words, stopping himself from finding a double meaning behind them, stopping himself from reading too into them. Now wasn’t the time. “Either I was too blind to see it from the start, or I wasn’t as worth as the money that came with me.”

That instantly deepened Calum’s frown, a rush of anger coursing through his veins at the thought of some asshole ever making Adeline feel badly about herself. Calum could only hope he never made Adeline feel like that but, fuck, this wasn’t about him. “Hey, stop,” Calum said, shifting so he was leaning down, resting his arms on the bar top as he tilted his head to meet her gaze. She reluctantly locked her light brown eyes with his darker ones. “You’ve got every right to be angry and upset over this, but don’t blame yourself, alright? The only one who’s at fault here is—is—”

“Ian,” Adeline supplied.

The guy’s name sounded like an asshole. “Yeah, him,” Calum finished tightly.

She looked at him for a few moments, and Calum hoped she saw the sincerity in his eyes as he maintained the gaze, fighting to not get distracted by how pretty she was—as always. Her nose ring glinted gently against the light of the bar as the corner of her lips quirked up, tapping her nails once against the glass. The sound was so clear, reminding Calum of how close they now were, leaning on the bar on their respective sides.

Adeline took a breath, sitting up, adding some distance between them as Calum linked his fingers together. “At the end of the day, I’m gonna look like the bad guy,” she sighed with a somewhat bitter chuckle. She raised the glass, eyes meeting Calum’s. “I’m the one who ran out; I’ve got no doubt Ian’s gonna make himself look like the victim. The vultures are gonna take his side, probably.”

She smirked by the end of her statement, and Calum felt his own lips tugging upwards despite the harsh truth of her words—mostly because of the familiarity he found. He clearly remembered Adeline’s nickname for her family, all money hungry despite having their own—but never as much as Adeline’s aunt. Standing straight, Calum shrugged. “I’m sure Lorraine’ll put ’em in place for you.”

He wasn’t sure where he went wrong with his response when he saw the smile drop from Adeline’s face, features stoning as she lowered her gaze. Calum’s eyebrows knitted together as Adeline’s throat worked, lips pursing, and he so easily recognized the somber expression she wore. Right when he parted her lips, Adeline broke the news, “Actually, uh, Aunt Lorraine passed two months ago.”

Calum inhaled sharply, quietly at her revelation, fingers folding into his palms as his knuckles pressed into the hardwood of the countertop. He clenched his jaw as Adeline kept her gaze on the glass in front of her, and Calum bowed his head briefly as he remembered Aunt Lorraine. She was one of the kindest women he’d ever met, but never let anyone push her around, was a hard ass when she had to be, and loved Adeline with every fiber of her being. She’d taken Adeline in when she was just four and lost her parents, and he got along well with her—she’d often tell Calum that he was her favorite of the boys Adeline had brought around before him.

Knowing she was gone—knowing that Adeline lost the one parent she knew—twisted Calum’s stomach a lot more harshly than he expected. He hadn’t seen Adeline or Lorraine for years, but those years between them didn’t mean the loss of a woman he admired and cared about didn’t strike him painfully.

“I’m—” Calum sighed, lifting his head as he shook it once, lips pressing together tightly before he muttered, “I’m really sorry to hear that, Adeline. I—Lorraine was an amazin’ woman.”

“Yeah,” Adeline smiled, sad and fond, gaze flickering up to lock with his. She looked at him for a moment, her gaze heavy nearly knocking the wind out of Calum, until she said, “She loved you.” Her smile widened a fraction, almost teasing through the solemnity. “Thought you were the best of the bunch.” Adeline shrugged as she continued, “She didn’t want a funeral, just a cremation and then I, uh, spread her ashes at the old lake house.”

Calum’s lips quirked up in a sad, nostalgic smile. He remembered that lake house—Lorraine would often invite him to join her and Adeline whenever they went up to it for the weekend. Throat working, Calum felt the words weigh heavily on his tongue as he slowly, cautiously asked, “How’d she pass?”

His gaze flickered to the door as it opened and two people rushed in, running from the rain as they stood by the entrance to dry off. Adeline let out a long sigh. “Heart attack. She’d had one last year but, uh, wasn’t able to bounce back from this one.”

Her lips twisted to the side as she kept her gaze low, eyebrows twitching together in a frown. Calum’s heart ached for Adeline. For losing her aunt and for losing this day. She’d already lost someone so important to her, and for her to find out her fiancé was nothing but a greedy scumbag on her wedding day? Calum wished he could make this better for her, make her smile just a little.

Some things never changed.

*****

“Do you believe in fate?”

Dr. Boocz quirked an eyebrow, and Adeline knew she hadn’t expected the question. Still, Adeline was curious for her answer, and Dr. Boocz leaned back in her seat and crossed her leg over her left knee. “I believe in it to a certain extent,” she answered. “I think that some things fall apart so that better things can come together. But I also believe that if life is going bad, you have the free will to perceive it however you want. It’s like looking at the glass half full versus half empty. A person’s current situation can suck,” she laughed gently before continuing, “and sometimes it’s beyond their own control but the only way to help your mental health is to fix how you view the situation and what you’re going to do to better yourself.”

Adeline nodded along before letting out a soft scoff through her nose. “A simple yes or no would’ve done the trick, Doc.”

Dr. Boocz smiled, hands linking together at her knee, pen in between her fingers as she inquired, “Why the interest in fate?”

Rolling her lips into her mouth, Adeline let her gaze wander towards the window. They were on the fifth floor of the building, the city around them, and it often distracted Adeline. Sometimes, though, it put her in a trance, allowed her to fall into her thoughts and sort through them while Dr. Boocz patiently waited. Her words swam in Adeline’s mind, chewing the inside of her cheek. Some things fall apart so that better things can come together. Ian’s face flashed across her mind and Adeline pressed her teeth together. Her relationship with him fell apart but in the aftermath she. . . Somehow ended up in Calum’s bar.

She’d spent the past few days thinking about it amidst avoiding ashamed family members and cutting her communication with Ian short. Aunt Lorraine’s brownstone was left to Adeline and she hadn’t quite decided what to do with it yet, so she moved back into the house and Gabby, along with a couple of other close friends of Adeline’s, had gone to her shared apartment with Ian and packed up her things for her. She refused to let there be a chance of her running into Ian, knowing the odds of it were high if she went to the apartment, so she was grateful her friends offered to do so.

That didn’t mean Ian didn’t try to reach out to her. He was pissed, she could tell from the texts she’d received before blocking his number. Gabby had temporarily moved in with Adeline just in case Ian showed up to the house so she wouldn’t have to deal with him alone.

That all fell apart and yet Adeline ended up walking right into Calum.

In between being angry with Ian and missing Aunt Lorraine, Adeline couldn’t seem to stop thinking about Calum. Out of all the places in the city, she ended up in his bar. Over the six years between them, neither of them ran into each other until the moment she walked out of her own wedding. Perfectly timed for them to see one another again during a time that left Adeline feeling so empty. Unsurprising because Calum. . . He never made Adeline feel like that. Even when they broke up, even when it was leading to the end of their relationship, the only time she had felt empty because of him was after they were no longer together. Like a piece of her was missing.

She thought Ian filled it. Now she realized he had been a band aid that’s long since weathered away.

“I ran into my ex,” Adeline finally answered Dr. Boocz, letting out a breath. “When I left my—my wedding. I was just wandering around the city and I ended up at a bar. Turns out it’s owned by my ex.”

Dr. Boocz nodded. “And this ex—”

“Calum,” Adeline supplied.

“Calum,” Dr. Boocz repeated. “What was it like, seeing him again?”

Adeline didn’t even have to think about her answer. “Good,” she said, feeling a small smile quirk at the corner of her lips as her brown eyes met Dr. Boocz’s. Adeline drummed her fingers on the couch pillow she settled on her lap, considering her words. “I mean definitely unexpected, you know? But good. We, uh, talked and caught up a little and it just—it felt natural. Nothing felt forced. It had always been easy to talk to him.”

“Why’d you two break up?”

“He was a year older than me, so he left for college first,” Adeline answered. “At first we managed the distance. But then I went to college and we got even more far apart. You know—geographically. And that effected our relationship.” She dropped her gaze, looking down at the nude acrylics on her nails, which she had done for the wedding. She had to go to the salon. “We tried to make it work but we got so busy with school and having a relationship kind of felt like it was just another thing to do, I guess. It was a mutual break up and we just—never saw each other after that. I don’t think either of us meant for that to happen.” Adeline inhaled deeply. “At least I didn’t.”

Dr. Boocz hummed, twirling her pen between her fingers. “What I’m hearing is, you two didn’t break up because you no longer loved each other. Circumstances just seemed to work against you.”

Adeline sighed, gripping the pillow to her chest. “Yeah, I guess.”

“Do you believe fate brought you to Calum’s bar after walking away from Ian?”

Forcing her knee not to bounce, Adeline nodded. “I think so. It’s like you said about the glass being half empty or half full. I can see it both ways. Empty because of what Ian did—full because I reconnected with Calum.”

“But what would you rather focus on?”

“The glass being full,” Adeline answered, feeling a small smile quirk at her lips. She let her gaze wander around the familiar office, the baby blue walls always comforting. “I want to reconnect with Calum more. Not for, like, romantic purposes but because I miss him. I didn’t realize how much until I saw him. He’d always been a good friend before we started dating and I regret not reaching out to him before all of this. I feel like I wasted time with Ian after finding out what he was really in for and that’s not something I want to do again.”

Her words may be harsh, labeling Ian as a waste of time, but Adeline couldn’t entirely bring herself to care. She was so unbelievably angry, so heartbroken, and she would rather deem him as a good-for-nothing than acknowledge him as someone she had, at one point, genuinely loved. Adeline had never been one to believe that someone could just fall out of love with another within a blink of an eye, always thought the heart was so much more complicated than that. But when she had overheard Ian’s conversation with Keith, it was like a switch had been flipped. He made her feel like an idiot, humiliated her—why should she spend another second loving him? Especially when he didn’t deserve it?

She’d had a few days to think about it, and although Adeline knew it would take longer to get over it, to get the ache in her chest to ease up, she wasn’t regretful of her actions. Only that she let it get this far so blindly.

“That’s good, Adeline,” Dr. Boocz said, a smile on her face as she nodded. “But I want you to keep something in mind.” Adeline raised her eyebrows, listening intently. “It’s okay to reconnect but make sure you’re doing it for the right reasons. Take things slowly. Don’t fall into anything serious, romantic or platonic, while in a vulnerable state. Think about what’s good for you in this moment and what would make you happy, and not depending on others to make you happy.”

Adeline pressed her tongue to the inside of her cheek, Dr. Boocz’s words swimming in her head. She knew her therapist was right, knew that she was in a vulnerable state and shouldn’t dive into anything. But Adeline genuinely believed there was no harm reconnecting with Calum; if their conversations at the bar were anything to go by, Adeline had felt comfortable and safe with him. But yeah; it would be foolish of her to fall into something new as she dealt with her relationship with Ian falling apart, especially after Aunt Lorraine’s death.

Even if Calum wasn’t anyone new.

The afternoon sun felt good on Adeline’s skin as she stepped up from the subway station and headed towards her street. Her music played in her ears as she walked down the sidewalk, Frappuccino in hand to sip from as she approached her house, only to stop in front of the three steps leading to the front door when she saw who was sitting on them.

Adeline inhaled sharply as Ian stood up, a disgruntled scoff escaping him as he declared, “Finally. I’ve been waiting for fifteen minutes.”

“What the hell are you doing here?” Despite the firmness in her tone, Adeline felt her heart beginning to quicken its pace, the sight of Ian not something she was prepared for.

“Trying to talk to you,” Ian frowned, stopping just a few feet in front of her. She still felt like he was too close. “You left without a word, cleaned your things out of our place and you haven’t said shit to me. You have any idea how much you embarrassed me, Adeline, in front of all our friends and family? The fuck is wrong with you?”

He took a step closer with every sentence, and Adeline’s grip on her cup tightened as she took a step back, teeth pressing together tightly. She wasn’t intimidated by him, by any means; she just didn’t want him too close, wasn’t comfortable with it. And despite the shock of his presence, Adeline didn’t lose her voice.

“I embarrassed you?” she repeated incredulously, sharp eyes meeting his dark blue. How arrogant was he? “You’re the one who played me, who was only in it for the fucking money. I don’t care if people think I’m the bad guy—but I would be damned if I let you make any more of a fool out of me than you have already.”

She found it in herself to walk past him, purposefully bumping her shoulder into his as she did so. But Ian grasped her wrist, turning her around as he demanded, “You’re gonna walk away from me, just like that? That’s how you treat people you love?”

Holy shit—how delusional was he? Adeline genuinely wondered if he was living in some reality where he hadn’t done anything wrong, where she truly was the villain of this story. Adeline would’ve laughed at the surrealness of it all if she wasn’t so bewildered at his arrogance. Her jaw tightened and Adeline, without hesitance, successfully jerked her wrist out of Ian’s grip. He glared at her, one she returned with full ferocity, a fire burning in her eyes as she snapped, “That’s how I treat people who are scum. You’re a liar, Ian, and I refuse to waste another second on you. Get the fuck off my property before I call the cops.”

The last thing she saw was the astonishment flash across his features, her harsh words slapping him across the face as she turned and stormed up the steps, keys already out to unlock the front door. Adeline didn’t look back, didn’t need a reason to, and slammed the door behind her before letting out a deep breath. She looked up at the ceiling, finally acknowledging the quick pace of her heart, exhaling slowly as she told herself to relax, to calm down. She had felt good about the words she had said, felt good in shutting the door in Ian’s face.

It would take time, and it probably would be painful, but Adeline knew she would eventually move past the shit show with Ian. Closing the door on him was the first step.

*****

Friday nights, unsurprisingly, were busy at the bar. Calum, although he hadn’t wanted to at first, had eventually decided to clear out some tables and chairs when it got really busy so patrons could take advantage of the space and dance to the music being played. He didn’t really care for it at first, but after a couple of broken glasses, he figured the cheapest thing to do would be to clear out the tables and chairs just for nights like these.

He wasn’t bartending tonight, his two other employees staying busy, so he remained by the end of the bar as he chatted with his friends, though he kept an eye around the bar and was willing to step in should his employees need him to. As usual, people of all ages were frequenting the bar, mostly those in his age group, all ready to ring in the weekend after a long week of work. Calum stayed by his friends, sipping his beer, the enthusiastic atmosphere of the bar not one he wasn’t used to, obviously.

“Hey, Cal—can I get another White Claw?” Crystal asked, and Calum gave her a quick nod before making his way towards the other end of the bar where her drink of choice was kept.

He made sure not to get in the way of his working bartenders, the bar expectedly busy, and right when Calum stood straight after pulling out can from the small fridge on the ground, his eyes instinctively drifted over to the door. His heart stopped, the surprise momentarily freezing him in place when he easily recognized Adeline enter the bar. He found himself staring at her, blinking out of his trance only when Adeline’s eyes managed to land on his despite the people in between them, a small smile quirking against her lips under the red and purple lights of the bar splashing across her face.

He watched as Adeline approached the bar and Calum stepped closer as well, another woman following behind her, and once she was within earshot, Adeline smiled, “Fancy seeing you here.”

A smile lifted Calum’s lips through a scoff, arms folding on top of the bar as he raised an eyebrow at her. “I think that’s my line,” he returned smoothly.

Adeline let out a laugh, one he hadn’t been able to hear much the last time they saw each other about a week ago. Her in front of him now, with that easy going smile on her face, made Calum feel a bit better than the last time she was on the other side of his bar. Patting the messenger bag hanging off her shoulder, she said, “I have your clothes.”

Quirking an eyebrow, Calum felt his smile turn into a small smirk as he asked, “Is that all you came for?”

“You make a mean Henny and Coke.”

Calum laughed, a lightness in his chest, realizing that Adeline had brought a friend and he needed to go back to his. He stood straight, ticking his head over to the left. “You wanna join? I’m sure Mike and Luke’ll be happy to see you.”

Her smile softened, straightening as well as she nodded and said, “Yeah, sure.”

He made his way back down the bar, glancing over to see Adeline and her friend making their way through the mild throng of people. When he reached his friends, Calum handed Crystal her drink before nodding at Luke and Michael. “Look who I found.”

Everyone looked to the left, and Calum watched as recognition instantly flashed across Luke and Michael’s features as they both put their drinks out and cheered, characteristically loudly, “Adeline!”

Calum grinned, an amused chuckle escaping him as her eyes widened in surprise at their grand reaction, watching as they got up from their seats to wrap her in hugs. As that happened, Calum met Ashton’s gaze, who quirked a knowing eyebrow as he mouthed, “Adeline?” because he knew exactly who she was despite never meeting her. Of course Calum had told his best friend, the one he’d made in college, about running into his high school ex again. Calum kept a lot of things to himself—seeing Adeline again couldn’t hope to be one of them. His excitement had been almost childish, despite the circumstances.

Once Adeline introduced them to her friend, Gabby, and she was introduced to the few people she didn’t know, Calum took it upon himself to prepare their drinks. He found himself glancing over in the couple of minutes he’d stepped away, watching as Adeline and Gabby animatedly chatted with his friends, Luke and Michael having given up their seats for the two of them to sit on. He looked at Adeline, who didn’t look as drained or hollow as she had the last time, a smile on her face that he enjoyed the sight of.

“Cal told us you two ran into each other last week,” Michael grinned, leaning against the bar next to Crystal. “I thought he was just messing with us.”

Calum rolled his eyes as he sipped his beer, watching as Adeline laughed and teased, “Calum’s a lot of things—I don’t think being a liar’s one of them.”

“Hey, hey, don’t try to butter him up—you’re already getting free drinks,” Ashton joked with a shake of his head and a wave of his hand, eliciting laughter from the group as Calum flipped him off from where he stood at the end of the bar.

Adeline’s jaw dropped with the laugh that escaped her before she moved with purpose. Calum watched, amused smile on his lips and eyebrows raised as she dug into her bag before producing a couple of bills that added up to the cost of her drink. She purposefully showed Ashton the money between her fingers, earning a dimpled grin from him before she leaned over Gabby and pushed the money in the front pocket of Calum’s jeans. He laughed as he watched her do so before she grinned at Ashton, “Drinks aren’t free, but the truth is.”

Calum scoffed through a laugh, deciding he’d give her the money back later instead of doing so now and squashing the point she was making. Right now, although he was engaged in the conversations with his friends, Calum was still trying to wrap his head around the sight of Adeline sitting among them.

It was dangerously coming close to how things used to be when they were back in high school, in addition to a few new friends, and it warmed Calum’s heart to see her so comfortable with them. She didn’t look like she was folding into herself, a bright smile on her face as she chatted and laughed and sipped her drink. When he realized he was admiring her for too long, too frequently, Calum tried to distract himself by finding things to do. He’d wash his gaze around the bar, making sure everyone was good, checked in with his bartenders to see if they were keeping up with the orders—really just doing his job to avert his gaze from Adeline every now and then.

“Hey, Cal—we need another bottle of Absolut and one of Bacardi,” one of the bartenders, Bridgit, told him from where she stood making a margarita.

Calum nodded. “I’ll bring ’em.”

He excused himself from his friends and walked around the bar, heading to the door that led towards the inventory room. He offered smiles to the customers he recognized who frequented his bar enough as he went, using the key he kept on him to unlock the door.

As he opened it, he heard Ashton say, “I’m surprised you managed to look away from Adeline long enough.”

Calum rolled his eyes at the teasing tone in his friend’s voice, stepping inside the dark room. He switched the light on as Ashton followed him, and Calum muttered a resigned, “Here we go.”

Ashton’s tone was conversational, a little too innocent as he said, “She’s sweet and very pretty. I can see why you dated her.”

Wandering over to where the supply of Absolut was, Calum threw Ashton a frown over his shoulder before quickly looking away, grabbing for one of the bottles. “Those weren’t the only reasons why I dated her.” Why he felt the need to defend himself, he didn’t know. Ashton knew Calum wasn’t that shallow, yet the words still slipped.

“Oh?”

Calum did a mental count of how many of those bottles were left before moving onto find the Bacardi. They should still have a few of those sitting around. It was one of the kinds of liquor that went out fast. “We were friends before we ever got together. She was one of the only other people, back then, who knew me as well as Mike and Luke did. Probably more. When we got together, it felt. . .”

Calum trailed off, jaw clenching as he grabbed the neck of the Bacardi bottle and pulled it out, feeling a tightness in his chest as he thought of the time he and Adeline were together and happy. It was all happy. Blissfully so, even if they had just been in high school.

“It felt what?” Ashton asked, curiosity coloring his tone.

Calum turned to face his friend once more, the words climbing up his throat, begging to let out. He thought of that first day he met Adeline: second period honors English on the first day of his sophomore year, and her freshman year, of high school, where they had been assigned to sit next to each other. She’d worn her silver framed glasses, hair tied into a French braid, looking like the prettiest girl sixteen year old Calum had seen. So he lifted a shoulder, voice drawn yet sincere as he answered, “It felt inevitable.”

*****

One of Adeline’s favorite things about her job was that a majority of it could be done from home. She worked as a content editor for a popular fashion magazine—but mostly for the magazine’s online content, with a few projects in the physical versions. But because of her job, Adeline was able to do it from home on her laptop, not really needing to venture into the office where most of the other employees worked from. The only time she went was when there were important staff meetings or if her work was to be done on the physical versions—she preferred doing those in the office.

She liked going into work; truthfully, Adeline didn’t really need a job, not with the inheritance she had from Aunt Lorraine. But her aunt had always told Adeline that working for her own money was something to be proud of, something everyone should be able to experience. It was why Adeline had many summer jobs as a teenager, anything from scooping ice cream to working in department stores. Just because she had money, doesn’t mean she couldn’t work for it, too.

Besides, what the hell else was she supposed to do with her time? All of her friends had jobs, and she could only keep herself company for so long.

But going into work lately had been somewhat of a challenge. Ever since she ran out of her wedding nearly two weeks ago, Adeline had become the topic of office gossip, given that several of her coworkers and boss had been in attendance. At this point, a lot of the talk was dying down—mostly thanks to Veera Waters, their boss, who had heard some employees not so discreetly talking about how trashy it was to run out of your own wedding, and berated them six ways to Sunday. Adeline had appreciated Veera stepping in because it put an end to any of the negative comments anyone was saying. It wasn’t everyone who felt that way, but Adeline didn’t need to hear it. She didn’t care what anyone else thought—but that didn’t mean she had a desire to hear any of it.

“I need a vacation,” Adeline announced with a huff as soon as she sat down on the chair opposite of Gabby. She hadn’t need to stay at the office after the weekly staff meeting, so once she had her assignment, Adeline left to meet up with Gabby for lunch at one of their favorite spots by Bryant Park. “Badly.”

Gabby smirked slightly as she sipped at her drink. “I told you, you should’ve just gone on your honeymoon instead of getting a refund.”

Adeline snorted, arms resting on the rests of the chair as she crossed her right leg at the left knee. “Yeah, right. Spend a week in the City of Love by myself after breaking up with my fiancé? Fat chance of that happening.”

An exasperated look crossed Gabby’s face. “Paris is the City of Love. Not Venice.”

Of course Adeline knew that. “Not for me, it isn’t,” she retorted. She preferred the beauty of Venice over the beauty of Paris any day. Now she wouldn’t get to see it because Ian was a piece of shit.

The waitress came by then, a familiar friendly face by the name of Holly, and Adeline rattled off her usual order while also asking for some wine. She needed it. “Seriously, though,” Adeline spoke up with a sigh. “I need to be out of this city so I don’t run into Ian. And I need to be out of cell range from the vultures.”

Gabby made a face at the mention of those people. Adeline’s best friend knew first hand how money-thirty Adeline’s extended family could be. All the second cousins and great aunts or uncles who spent a lifetime trying to get on Aunt Lorraine’s good side to have a sniff of the money she had in her grasp. Now their attentions had shifted to Adeline, the sole inheritor of it all. And after talking to Aunt Lorraine’s most trusted lawyers, Adeline knew it was only hers to do with what she pleased. And she would be damned if she let it get in the hands of greedy family members who weren’t happy with the money they had and wanted to dig their claws in her deceased aunt’s vault.

No fucking way.

“What about the lake house?” Gabby suggested just as Holly returned with Adeline’s wine—and a basket of deliciously warm bread.

Adeline’s stomach twisted at her friend’s question—one asked tentatively, she could tell. Picking up a piece of bread, Adeline tore it in half and reached for the little rectangle of butter. “I don’t know,” she answered honestly.

Truthfully, Adeline hadn’t been to the lake house since she went to spread Aunt Lorraine’s ashes. Even though Adeline used to go to the lake house to spend weekend with friends, it was also the place she and Aunt Lorraine used to close themselves off to when they wanted to take a break from the city. It was their happy place where they spent time cooking, baking, swimming in the lake, visiting the small town it was near because sometimes they preferred that over the business of the city. But it had been two months since Adeline had been back, and although she yearned to go once more, she wasn’t sure if she was ready for it.

“You wouldn’t be going alone,” Gabby assured her as she put down her glass. “We can make a trip out of it. Invite more people, if you want.”

The idea was fun, Adeline could admit, and one she would’ve jumped at the opportunity for a few months ago. The lake house was full of happy, nostalgic memories, and Adeline knew Aunt Lorraine would want her to continue making more. Adeline offered a small smile to Gabby, bringing the piece of bread to her mouth. “Maybe. We’ll see.”

It was a non-answer, but Gabby seemed to understand that was all she would get from Adeline and nodded in acceptance. When Holly returned with their food, Gabby asked, “So—Calum. What’s going on there?”

Adeline glanced up from her plate of shrimp scampi, eyebrows knitting together. The jump in her chest at the mention of him wasn’t something she could totally ignore. “What do you mean?” Adeline returned, twirling the pasta around her fork. “Nothing’s going on anywhere. We only just reconnected.”

“And are you gonna keep reconnecting?” Gabby questioned, a glint in her eye. With a teasing smile, she said, “If my high school sweetheart looked like that, I totally would.”

Adeline felt her cheeks warm at Gabby’s reference of Calum being her high school sweetheart. Technically, he was. But hearing someone else say it was strange—and not in the bad way. Keeping her tone flat, Adeline said, “Do you really think I’m capable of pursuing something after ending it with Ian? Who I was with for three years, need I remind you?”

Three years down the drain. God. Was any of it real? Adeline found herself wondering that more often than she liked. She wanted to be rid of him. To scrub her body clean of any trace of him. As much as she had loved him, as soon as the truth had come out, Adeline felt nothing but a burning anger when she thought of Ian, alongside the pain that came with a blindsiding heartbreak. Love was complicated but hate—hate wasn’t. And Adeline knew, despite spending years with him, loving him, her anger and hate won out.

Gabby clicked her tongue with a roll of her eyes. “I’m not saying you have to pursue anything,” she said. “You told me you guys were friends before you dated, and from what I can tell, Calum seems like a really nice guy. Besides—” An almost excited glimmer appeared in Gabby’s eyes, a small smile dancing on her lips as she leaned forward. “Don’t you think it’s, like, wild how you left Ian only to end up at your ex’s bar? That shit’s from the movies.”

Adeline swallowed her mouthful of pasta, lips twisting to the side. Gabby had only voiced exactly what Adeline had been thinking about since the moment she saw Calum. What were the damn odds of that happening? New York was a big city, sure, but to not have seen Calum for six years and only to run into him on her would-be wedding day? Adeline recalled her conversation with Dr. Boocz about fate, how Adeline herself wondered if that’s what this was.

She found herself hoping for it to be true. No matter how cliché or fictional it seemed.

But this wasn’t a movie. If it was, Adeline was desperate to fast forward to the end. Maybe then everything would stop hurting.

*****

The looming brownstone looked almost exactly as it had the last time Calum had seen it years ago, except now the bricks were obviously weathered, but the greenery around the steps were bright and lively. He stopped in the middle of the small path leading up to the front steps, taking a moment to admire the house, the early afternoon sun making the bricks almost glimmer with the dew that still clung to them from the brief rain that fell early in the morning.

For a moment, Calum wondered why he never stepped foot here until now. When he and Adeline broke up, it wasn’t like he never came back to the city—it wasn’t as though he didn’t know exactly where she lived. His own family didn’t live in the city anymore, having moved when he graduated high school. But Calum could’ve guessed Lorraine’s house was still here. Although his and Adeline’s break up had hurt, it was still mutual. They could’ve tried harder to be friends. If texting and FaceTime hadn’t been enough to keep together their relationship, maybe it could’ve kept their friendship intact. So why hadn’t they tried?

Calum kind of knew the answer.

As pathetic as it was. . . It would’ve been too difficult to just stay friends with Adeline right after the break up.

But he could’ve tried. Which was what he—both of them, really—was doing now.

Taking a breath, he headed up the few steps leading to the front door, raising a hand and ringing the doorbell. When Adeline had texted him, asking him if he wanted to come over for lunch, Calum had stared at his phone for a solid ten minutes, unsure if what he was seeing was real, before snapping into action. He was glad she wasn’t able to sense his eagerness through a text message that said Sure, sounds great.

The door swung open, and suddenly Calum felt like he was sixteen again and he’d stood on this very doorstep to pick Adeline up for their first date. Back then, they’d taken the subway to Coney Island and had spent all day on rides and eating junk food that made their stomachs hurt later. It had been so worth it.

Now, Adeline stood in front of him in jeans and a blouse tucked in, cheeks pink and a smile on her face that Calum realized, not for the first time, still tugged at his heart. Against the afternoon sun, Calum could make out the dozens of freckles that dotted her skin; across the bridge of her nose and spreading on the apples of her cheeks, while also spreading up to decorate her forehead. They had dated, they were re-establishing a friendship that had been absent for six years, but Calum wasn’t that prideful that he could never admit how beautiful she was. Undoubtedly.

Her brown hair tumbled past her shoulders in waves, smile bright as she greeted, “Hey.”

Calum returned it, finding it a lot easier to do so than he expected. “Hi,” he said as Adeline opened the door wider for him to enter. He stepped through the threshold, a scent hitting him that launched him into the past. His gaze landed on the dish of pasta resting on the glass coffee table—she was as obsessed with pasta as he was—alongside a dish of vegetable gratin, and even a little bowl of guacamole with chips. Calum felt a faint smile tug at his lips before he looked at the pasta once more. Glancing down at her with a quirk of an eyebrow, he asked, “Is that three cheese lasagna I smell?”

A laugh escaped Adeline as she shut the door, her own gaze darting to a bag he held in his left hand. “Only if that’s wine.”

His smile widened a bit as he pulled out the bottle of red. He’d asked Adeline if she wanted him to bring anything, and she’d suggested wine if he was in the mood to drink it, so he swiped up a bottle on his way over. He remembered she enjoyed drinking it when it was just the two of them hanging right in this living room and Lorraine wasn’t around.

“Your wish was my command,” he told her, earning a laugh from her.

“Oh, crap, I forgot the wine glasses. Sit, I’ll be right back,” Adeline said, gesturing towards the couch before she went down the hall and around the corner where the kitchen was.

Calum put the bottle down on the table, but instead of sitting, his gaze wandered around the living room. It hadn’t changed much since he’d last been there. There was a staircase directly ahead of the front door, about ten feet away, and to the right was the living room with a burnt red sectional facing the TV that was placed in a wooden unit, surrounded by books and picture frames and trinkets placed in the shelves.

Calum’s gaze caught on the pictures, many of them consisting of Adeline and Lorraine, with a few photographs of Lorraine with Adeline’s mom, and of a toddler Adeline with her parents before they passed. A tightness locked in Calum’s throat as he gazed at her young, smiling face. She’d lost all of these people, all of her parents. He foolishly, unrealistically wanted to get rid of all the pain she had suffered—was suffering through.

Just when he was about to turn away, something else snagged at Calum’s attention, and he felt his lips curling when he noted the marks on the strip of wall next to the window that faced the street. It was right in the corner where the two walls met as he approached, a small huff of a laugh escaping him as he recognized the markings.

They started when Adeline was four, each marking higher than the next, rising with her age. The last one was put when she was seventeen, putting her height at 5’4”. That was seven years ago.

“I haven’t grown an inch since I was seventeen,” came Adeline’s voice, and Calum turned to see her enter with two wine glasses in her hands. She stopped in front of the couch, her light brown eyes taking in the sight of him, and Calum willed his heart not to betray him now. Her lips curved up. “You, on the other hand, look like you hit puberty three times over.”

A short laugh escaped Calum, hand rubbing the back of his neck and, for fuck’s sake, was he blushing? He couldn’t remember the last time he did that—

Alright, he could. It was in high school—because of Adeline, no less.

“I’ve always been taller than you,” Calum pointed out, pushing aside whatever the hell was going on in his chest as he walked over to her.

Adeline’s smile was teasing and Calum wasn’t sure if he was remembering the moments of when they were friends or more. “Yeah, but I never had to crane my neck to look you in the eye,” she said with a light laugh.

True, but Calum had always liked the way his body towered over hers. He’d loved it when her arms would wrap around his waist and she’d rest her cheek against his chest, and he’d be able to rest his chin on the top of her head. He loved it and he missed it.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. He wasn’t handling this too well.

Clearing his throat, Calum sat down on the couch, Adeline joining him, and he looked towards the food again. Almost tentatively, he asked, “Did you master Lorraine’s recipe?”

She glanced towards the three cheese lasagna that waited before them, a small smile dancing on her lips. Three cheese lasagna was one of Lorraine’s famous dishes, and she would make it every time she knew Calum was coming over when they were in high school. It had easily become one of his favorite dishes and he didn’t realize how much he missed it until now, until it was waiting for him and he could smell the delicious aroma.

“According to her, I did,” Adeline told him, and he recognized the longing mixed with sorrow in her voice, though the small smile remained on her face. She picked up the plates, handing one to him as she said, “Let’s see what you think.”

He made sure to get a little bit of everything Adeline had made onto his plate as she poured the wine, and Calum couldn’t help the small smile that danced on his lips when he brought a forkful of lasagna to his mouth, aware of Adeline’s eager eyes on him. The flavor exploded on his tongue, the taste of the cheesy pasta so achingly familiar, not even bothering to hold back the satisfied groan that escaped him.

“This is fantastic, Adeline,” Calum praised, eyebrows rising as he looked at her, catching the relieved and thrilled grin on her face. With a smile, he told her, “You made Lorraine proud.”

Her smile widened, and Calum knew he’d said the right thing. The two of them settled back on the couch, plates full, and as Adeline’s fork clinked against the plate, she said, “Go ahead. Ask me.”

Calum looked at her. “Ask you what?”

She shot him a knowing look, lips curving. “The question you’ve been dying to ask since I texted you about coming over.”

If Calum had forgotten that Adeline knew him better than he thought, this would be a reminder. He scooped some guac up with a chip, looking down at his plate for a moment before meeting her patient gaze. She was right. There was a question in his head, begging to be asked, but he hadn’t wanted to jump the gun. But if Adeline already knew of his curiosity, might as well ask it.

“How come you invited me over?”

Her smile turned gentle, almost nostalgic, and Calum’s heart jumped. Her light brown eyes were sincere as she gazed at him, taking a deep breath before answering, “We’ve been. . . Out of each other’s lives for longer than we were ever in them. And that. . .” She frowned, giving a shake of her head. “I don’t like that. I hate that we just fell out of each other’s lives after we ended things, and I think it’s time we, you know, fixed that.” Her gaze turned almost hesitant, hopeful. “If you’re okay with it.”

Adeline spoke quickly like Calum knew she did when she was nervous about something, wanting the words to get out before she could think twice about them. He noticed not because he noticed every little thing about her, but because he was hanging on to every word she said—hanging on to the fact that she, just like him, wanted to once again be a part of his life. To what extent, Calum didn’t know and he wasn’t about to ask. Not when this old thing was starting anew, not when she just left her fiancé. He was just so grateful that she seemed to be on the same train of thought as him.

Then again, more often than not, they both always were.

“I’m more than okay with it, Addie,” Calum told her, the nickname slipping out easily. Before he could talk himself out of it, he rested his fork on the plate and reached his right hand out, grasping Adeline’s left, and Calum wasn’t sure if that had been a good idea because as soon as his skin touched hers, the warmth spread through him like a wildfire, electricity sparking his veins and tingling to the tips of his toes. But he kept the easy smile on his face, focused on the way Adeline squeezed his hand, how hers seemed so small in comparison, and Calum’s heart was racing as he looked at her and told her what he’d been dying to say since the moment he recognized her in his bar. “I missed you.”

He saw her throat work, her smile soft as she let out a relieved sigh. “I missed you too, Cal.”

And then it was like there had been no time lost.

As they ate, they talked about what had been going on in their lives for the past six years. He told her about buying the bar and starting up his business, and she told him the summers she spent traveling with Aunt Lorraine and getting a job at a top magazine. Calum told her about his dog, Duke, and Adeline had immediately said that next time lunch would be at his place so she could meet the little guy. They wisely stayed away from the topic of Adeline’s ex-fiancé and the whole wedding situation. Instead, they talked about moments of when they were in high school, the dumb shit they got caught up in—skipping out on classes or sometimes the whole day altogether, the soccer games he played in and she attended to watch. They even talked a bit about Lorraine, fond smiles on their faces and pain creeping into their eyes. He wanted to ease Adeline’s ache, wipe it from her face as they talked about lighter subjects.

Too long. It had been too long since he saw her smile or heard her laugh. How could he have gone six years without it?

As Adeline smiled against the rim of the glass, sipping her wine, something tightened in Calum’s chest. He’d never moved on from her, despite believing that he did. The years he spent in the beds of different women and in relationships that never went anywhere should’ve been proof enough. It didn’t click until he was right there, sitting with her, remembering all of the reasons why he fell in love with her in the first place. Dating her for a little over two years felt like nothing compared to the lifetime they’d assumed they had.

A lifetime she was so, so close to spending with someone else. He tried not to think about it. Tried not to focus on the profound and selfish relief at that very fact not coming to fruition.

Even if he wanted to break her fiancé’s nose for hurting her.

Calum had been at Adeline’s place for over two hours already. They’d finished lunch and were sipping from their wine as Calum finished up telling her about a Coldplay concert he had attended a little while back with Luke, Michael and Ashton.

“I can’t lie—I’m kind of jealous,” Adeline mused once he was done, sitting with her back against the arm rest, left leg folded under her as the right hung off the couch, facing him.

Calum’s right arm was resting on top of the couch, left hand gripping his nearly empty glass. “Because of the concert?” he asked with a light laugh.

“Well, that too,” Adeline replied with a gentle roll of her eyes. “But mostly because, I don’t know, you’re still friends with Luke and Mike after high school and you and I aren’t. Or weren’t,” she corrected, shifting nervously where she sat as the smile on Calum’s face slightly faltered. “I mean, obviously the circumstances were different but I just—I don’t know, I wish it wouldn’t have been painful to stay friends after we broke up, you know?”

She stumbled over her words, but Calum understood what she was trying to say all the same. Of course, he did—he felt the exact same way. And it was a relief to know she shared that sentiment with him. “Yeah,” Calum said, his voice sounding rough in his own ears. He cleared his throat lightly before saying, “We can’t change the past, but I’m more than ready to make up for the years we lost.”

Her smile brightened her face and Calum could never get enough of it. Adeline sat up, leaning forward and holding her glass up. “Here’s to unplanned, but wholly welcome, reunions,” she declared, grin wide and eyes glimmering. Calum clinked his glass with hers before sipping his wine, gaze never leaving Adeline’s as he drank.

When it was nearing five, Calum knew it was time to go, given that he had a shift soon at the bar. He was reluctant to leave, stalling by helping Adeline in bringing all of the dishes back into the kitchen. If she knew that’s what he was doing, she didn’t comment on it. Too soon, she was walking Calum to the door, their time together—for now—coming to an end. In his hand, he held a bag with a couple of Tupperware inside, filled with the leftovers of the delicious food she’d made.

“Thanks for lunch, Addie,” Calum said as he faced her, back to the door as he looked down at her.

Adeline smiled, brown hair framing her face as she slid her hands in the back pockets of her jeans, shoulders lifting. “Thanks for coming,” she returned.

A question danced on Calum’s tongue, one he hadn’t asked anyone in years—one that was reserved just for Adeline because it had always been their thing. He wasn’t sure if he should voice it now, but maybe the nostalgia, or the excitement of finally, finally, finally seeing her again got to him. So Calum tilted his head ever so slightly, a half smile curving at his lips as he lifted his chin a bit. “So, when can I see you again?”

Adeline’s eyes widened, grinning lips parting as she gaped up at him in absolute delight. Calum’s stomach tumbled. “Oh, my God—you didn’t,” she laughed, leaning forward slightly as she did so as one hand ran through her hair. Calum joined in on her laughter, admiring the flush of her cheeks. It was probably the wine, but he hoped it was a little bit because of him, too. “Wow, that—I haven’t heard that in a while.”

It was silly, silly thing between them, dating back to the night of their first date when they returned from Coney Island and Calum had walked her right up to this door. He’d asked her, then, when can I see you again? and Adeline humbled him by letting out a laugh, as if it was the funniest thing he’d said because who even asks that anymore? before giving a teasing response of, Monday morning, by my locker.

Ever since then, whenever they had a date night and he would drop her home, he’d end the night with that question. Sometimes it had ended up with Adeline sneaking him up to her room. Most of the times, she would give the same response—

“Inevitably, in your dreams.”

Calum’s heart jumped to his throat when he heard her utter those four words, the same teasing glint in her eyes he grew familiar with years ago. It had been a promise between them, a reassurance.

Who fucking knew it would become a reality for some nights for the past six years?

Adeline was smiling, biting her lower lip. Calum’s mouth was dry. He hadn’t felt this way since, well, since Adeline. What a dangerous, dangerous game they were playing.

Willing himself to snap out of it, Calum returned her smile with a breathy chuckle, fighting the urge to clear his throat and indicate just how much of an effect her words had on him. He felt warm as he stepped forward, holding his arm out as he said, “Bye, Addie.”

She closed the gap by returning his hug, fitting right under his chin as Calum rested it atop her head, and he found himself closing his eyes as she invaded his senses. Adeline could probably feel his heart thundering under the cotton material of his shirt, but he didn’t care. All he could focus on was the aching familiarity of her body against his, even in a hug, how warm and fitting she was. The scent of coconuts danced in his nose—fuck, she even smelled the same, terribly dizzying.

It dawned on him, then, how much he could miss her and only realizing the extent the moment he finally held her in his arms again.

Calum wasn’t sure how long they stood like that, hugging each other for the first time in years. The past two weeks or so since she walked into his bar, they’d only seen each other three times in total, most of their tentative communication being done so through texts. They never got to hug—not until now. Calum didn’t think he’d be forgetting the way her arms wrapped around his waist any time soon. Not that he would want to.

Eventually, they moved to pull away, but their movements were slow, stalling. And they didn’t pull away—not all the way. Adeline’s arms remained around Calum’s waist, only lifting her head off his chest, and he only moved his head to look down at her, his own arm still embracing her shoulders. They were close—close enough for Calum to count all of her freckles if they had the time, close enough for him to see the two flecks of dark brown in the right iris of her light brown eyes without the help of the sun, close enough to feel her breath fanning against his lips, just like he knew his was against hers as well.

What are you doing? What the fuck are you doing? The voice in the back of his head was loud, insistent, most likely reasonable in its questions and yet Calum silenced it for now. He couldn’t think of anything but Adeline, her coconut scent wrapping around him like a childhood blanket as his forehead pressed against hers.

He watched her gaze drop, watched as it landed on his lips as her eyelashes grazed the tops of her cheeks, their noses brushing together. It hurt—his heart hurt because of how heavy and tight the longing was, how desperately he wanted to close the remaining distance between them and see if her lips felt the same way they had when they were teenagers. The air between them crackled like it had so many years ago, and that had to mean something, right?

Calum squeezed his eyes shut, jaw ticking as he clenched his teeth together. He couldn’t do this. He wanted to so badly—but he couldn’t. In those stretching moments, Calum felt like he was at war with his head and his heart, wanting to so desperately kiss her but knowing he shouldn’t. They’d just gotten each other back and Adeline—she’d just been engaged just a few weeks ago. He didn’t want their first kiss to be a result of overwhelming nostalgia, didn’t want there to be any lingering pain for Adeline. He wanted to do it right, if it were to happen again. And right now, this—this wasn’t right.

His body roared in protest, but Calum kept himself grounded with a tight grip on the bag in his hand as he dropped his other arm from around Adeline, swallowing thickly as he pulled his head away from hers while murmuring a quiet, “I should go.”

Adeline blinked quickly, arms limply dropping to her sides as she looked up at him. She seemed dazed, almost, before pulling herself back and Calum hated to see the disappointment she was hiding in her eyes. Adeline stepped back, her hands sliding down her thighs as she nodded. “Yeah, yeah,” she said, throwing a quick smile his way. Calum didn’t try to see if it reached her eyes, he already knew the answer. “I’ll see you later.”

Calum nodded, turning away to open the door, the late afternoon sun now bathing the homes across the street in golden. He stepped outside, glancing over at Adeline once more as he said, “Bye, Adeline.”

She smiled again, this time softer, holding the door as she gazed at him. His heart jumped at the look in her eyes, gentle and. . . Longing. “Bye, Calum.”

He went down the steps, not looking back even when he heard the click of the door shut. The smell of coconuts followed him all the way home.

*****

“So I did something stupid.”

Dr. Boocz raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“Well, I almost did something stupid,” Adeline amended, twisting her lips to the side. “But it was something you definitely told me not to do. Remember how you told me to, y’know, take things slowly? After I told you I wanted to reconnect with Calum?”

Realization flickered across Dr. Boocz’s face. “Yes, I remember.”

Adeline chewed on the inside of her cheek, lips puckering as she scrounged up the courage to talk about what the fuck she’d almost done just two days ago. It was all she could think about, having blurted it out to Gabby when she’d gotten home from work that night. Her best friend had been both amused and unimpressed, saying something about how it was bound to happen. That hadn’t helped. Adeline had then proceeded to finish the rest of the wine bottle Calum had brought before drowning in her conflicted feelings. She wasn’t sure if the mild hangover the next day was because of the wine or her thoughts.

“I invited Calum over for lunch and we got to talking. Just, like, reminiscing old times and stuff and catching each other up on the past few years,” Adeline explained, twisting her fingers in her lap.

A small smile curved at Dr. Boocz’s lips. “And how was that?”

“Really fucking good,” Adeline breathed out with a smile. And it had been—God, it felt so good to sit and just talk with Calum, to be in his company. She’d missed it, missed him, so damn much. How had she gone six years without it? She didn’t think she could do that again. “It felt like we never left each other. It was so comfortable and normal and just like it used to be. But then, right before he left. . .” Dr. Boocz remained silent, patiently waiting. Adeline let out a deep sigh, leaning back against the plush couch as she confessed, “We almost kissed.”

Dr. Boocz raised her eyebrows. “But you didn’t?”

“No,” Adeline answered, the word semi bitter in her mouth.

Her therapist, of course, noticed. “How do you feel about almost kissing Calum?”

Adeline swallowed, picking at invisible lint from her jeans. “Disappointed but. . . Also relieved.” Knowing Dr. Boocz was going to ask why Adeline felt like that, she continued on. “I want to move on from Ian, and even though it hasn’t been that long, I don’t spend every minute raging about what he did. But it’s still, like, fresh. And kissing Calum would just—it wouldn’t be smart,” she reluctantly admitted. “And it wouldn’t be fair.”

“To him or to you?”

“Both,” Adeline said with a shrug. “I don’t want to get into anything, serious or otherwise, without completely being rid of Ian and any lingering feelings I may have.” Her jaw tightened, the mere thought of her heard harboring any feelings for him making her irritated, even if it was expected. They’d been together for three years, after all—she had said yes to spending the rest of her life with him. “And Calum, he. . . He deserves better than that. I won’t do that to—I won’t hurt him.”

Dr. Boocz considered her words before asking, “Who stopped the kiss from happening? You or Calum?”

Adeline’s eyebrow quirked. “Calum.”

“It’s important that you realize you recognized how kissing him could’ve complicated things,” Dr. Boocz said. “Thinking about both yourself and Calum and what the potential result of a spontaneous kiss like that could be is good work, Adeline. And in terms of you not wanting to hurt Calum. . . There’s a chance he may have stopped anything from happening because he understood where you were at. He respected you enough to stop before it got too complicated.”

Adeline’s heart jumped at that. She could easily believe that, where Calum was concerned. He’d always been so receptive of others, could read them so well. Still, with a short laugh, Adeline dryly said, “Or maybe he just didn’t want to kiss me.”

Dr. Boocz cracked another smile. “I don’t think even you believe that.” Adeline’s cheeks flushed and Dr. Boocz let out a gentle laugh. “You didn’t do anything stupid, Adeline,” she then said, responding to the statement Adeline had made earlier. “You were acting on your feelings—there’s nothing wrong with that. Everyone does it. My advice to you is still the same: take things slowly and focus on yourself, whatever that may mean for you, healthily. There’s nothing wrong with reconnecting with Calum. From what you said, he was an important part of your life, and seeking him out after losing another important part is normal—”

“I’m not, like, trying to replace Ian with him or anything,” Adeline quickly said, hoping she hadn’t given that impression. That made it sound like Calum was some kind of rebound, which he absolutely wasn’t. He was. . . He was Calum. He belonged to a part of her life that was meant just for him, and now he was reclaiming it.

“I know,” Dr. Boocz nodded and Adeline believed her. “Life just happened to work out this way when it led you to Calum’s bar after leaving your wedding with Ian. Calum was your friend before he was anything else, right? Finding a friend in him again is normal. If it evolves into something more, and if you feel that you’re confident in letting go of Ian, then you do what’s best for you.”

Adeline rolled her lips into her mouth, nodding along slowly to Dr. Boocz’s words. She was silent for a moment, mulling over what she’d heard, before another thought crept into her mind, one she thought about often since seeing Calum again. Looking at her therapist, Adeline said, “I think about Aunt Lorraine a lot when I’m with Calum.”

Granted, she’d only been in Calum’s presence less than a handful of times, but that didn’t make what she said any less true.

Dr. Boocz tilted her head, a gentle softness in her eyes upon hearing the mention of Adeline’s aunt. “How so?”

“She liked him a lot,” Adeline said, a small yet fond smile curling at her lips. “I didn’t date that many guys before Calum, but Aunt Lorraine didn’t think any of them were anything special. It was different with Calum. She. . .” Adeline bit her lower lip, a familiar ache clenching at her heart. “She wasn’t like that even with Ian.”

“She approved of Calum.”

“She did. They got along well—they were like friends, you know? Calum and I talked about her when he came over for lunch and it just—it felt good to talk about her with someone who knew her kind of like I did,” Adeline explained, thinking of the conversations they had. She remembered the fondness in Calum’s eyes as he talked about Aunt Lorraine, how she was the first adult in his life that let him have a beer in her presence, how she didn’t treat him like a child like every other adult in his life did. Aunt Lorraine was always popular with Adeline’s friends. It’s why everyone loved her.

“I mean, I can talk to Gabby about her, but Calum had known Aunt Lorraine since he was, like, sixteen. There’s more history there so I feel like he just. . . He gets it more.”

Dr. Boocz nodded along. “Is it easier to talk about her with him?”

Adeline thought about it for a moment. In the dark of her room at night, of course the tears came a lot faster when she thought of her aunt, when she thought about the fact that she lost the only parent she’d ever known. She had been so young when she lost her parents and because of that, their loss, although sad, didn’t inject Adeline with a paralyzing pain. Not the way Aunt Lorraine’s death did.

Talking to Gabby about Aunt Lorraine helped; her best friend had some of her own fond memories with the woman. But the pain always threatened to overwhelm Adeline. But even though she only talked about Aunt Lorraine, in depth, with Calum once, it had felt. . . Doable. The pain was present, but it didn’t burn her like all of the times before. She didn’t understand it, but she appreciated it, nonetheless. Maybe it was because of how much Aunt Lorraine adored Calum, and how it wasn’t one sided. She was the only parent Adeline had, and even before they dated, Calum had been determined to get on her good side. It had been effortless for him—it even took Michael and Luke a minute to get on Aunt Lorraine’s good side.

So yeah. It was easier to talk about Aunt Lorraine with Calum. Everything, Adeline knew, had always been easier with Calum.

*****

Hey, I know it’s last minute but it’s Ash’s birthday tomorrow so we’re gonna be pregaming at the bar at 8 and then going to the Blue Ribbon if you wanted to come?

The second Calum had sent that text the night before, he’d let out a sharp breath as the panicked voice in the back of his head demanded to know what the hell he was doing. He’d offhandedly asked his friends if it was alright if he extended the invitation to Adeline, and they all replied their agreements, and Calum had ignored the knowing looks in the boys’ eyes as he texted Adeline. When she had replied that she would be down to go, relief and nerves pinched Calum’s stomach.

Truly—what was he doing?

It had been a week since Calum saw Adeline—through no doing of their own. Work kept both of them busy, honestly, so they hadn’t been able to see each other since he had lunch at her place. Calum wasn’t sure if that was a blessing or not, after their almost-kiss. When they texted throughout the days, everything seemed normal; neither of them brought up what had happened, and Calum didn’t know if either of them would. He realized that he was fine if they didn’t talk about it. They could blame it on emotions running high after their proclaimed reunion, they could blame it on the wine, whatever. So long as it didn’t seriously fuck up them finally being in each other’s lives again, Calum was fine.

That didn’t mean his heart didn’t jump every time her name flashed across his screen. He felt like a teenager again.

It was nothing compared to the feeling of seeing Adeline walk into his bar around 8:10, tight black jeans with a mesh top hugging her figure as her brown hair fell down her back like damn waterfall. Her grin was bright as she spotted them at the bar, walking over as they all greeted her over the music playing and she gave Ashton a hug while wishing him a happy birthday.

Adeline came to stand next to him, the heels she wore giving her some height, as she looked up at him with a smile. “Hey, Cal,” she greeted softly, bumping her hip with his.

And just like that, any tension in Calum’s body eased as he returned the smile effortlessly, wrapping an arm around her shoulder to pull her in for a side hug. Her own arm went around his waist. “Want a drink?”

“Shots first!” Sierra exclaimed and upon everyone’s agreements, Calum lined up eight shot glasses and picked up the bottle of vodka, filling them up quickly and efficiently.

They all clinked their glasses together, some of the drinks spilling over, before quickly downing them. Calum welcomed the burn in his throat that was already numbing, and as he put the glass down, he realized his arm was still around Adeline’s shoulders. Hers was still around his waist. Neither of them made the move to let go, and suddenly Calum’s body felt warm not from the alcohol he’d consumed, but because of the woman standing so close to him.

He tried not to think too much of it. Though, that was a bit difficult given that Ashton, Luke, and Michael seemed to be eyeing them both knowingly. Calum regretted telling them of his slip up at Adeline’s house.

They stayed at the bar for about an hour before deciding to head out to the Blue Ribbon, and Calum informed his assistant manager, of his departure before following his friends out of his busy bar. The eight of them, rather than taking an Uber, headed toward the 28th street station, going down the steps in a flurry of animated chatter with Metro cards in hands before waiting on the platform for the R train.

They had a couple of minutes, and Calum’s gaze swept over to Adeline. She was leaning against a beam, a fond, somewhat tipsy smile on her face given that she’d taken a bunch of shots, listening to everyone chattering instead of engaging in it. Even standing there, under the harsh lights of the humid subway station, Adeline looked beautiful. So effortlessly did she rob Calum of his breath in a way no one had ever been able to, and Calum wondered if she was even aware of it.

He walked over to her, leaning on the left side of the beam with his shoulder, peering down at her shorter frame. With an amused smile tilting at his lips, he asked, “You doin’ okay?”

Adeline lifted her head and smiled up at him, a light laugh escaping her. “Totally,” she nodded and then huffed. “But it’s so hot in here.” Her brown eyes gave him a once over before meeting his gaze again. “How are you not sweating in that?”

She was referring to the leather jacket he wore, which was a fair enough question. But the jacket was some kind of comfort that he wore when he went out on nights like these. “We’ll be in an air conditioned train soon, Addie,” he assured her with a chuckle.

Adeline wrinkled her nose. “Unless it’s one of those shitty old ones that haven’t been renovated since the dawn of man.”

“Oh, you’re not fun,” Crystal’s voice rang out, nudging Michael where they stood. Her blue eyes then found Calum and Adeline, and she brightened as she said, “Adeline—you’ll dance with us, right? Mike would rather be up there with the DJ than on the dance floor.”

With a laugh that was drowned out by the approaching train, Adeline answered reassuringly, “Until my feet fall off.”

The trip to the club wasn’t long, but the three minute subway ride seemed to drag on as he sat next to Adeline, their thighs pressed together, her shoulder brushing against his upper arm with every rattle of the train. But she was engaged in a conversation with Kaykay, and Calum was doing his best to not focus on how the warmth her touch gave him was much more preferred than the warmth of whatever alcohol was humming through his veins.

Sometimes, he felt as though his lips were still humming from their near kiss.

Calum clenched his hands into fists on top of his knees. He needed to get a fucking grip. He was losing himself; he could tell. And yet, even knowing that, he wasn’t that wary of it. All thanks to Adeline.

The short subway ride was followed by a five minute walk, and because they knew the right people, they were allowed right into the Blue Ribbon instead of having to wait in the queue outside. They walked up the steps and through the heavy drapes, the music thumping against the walls as they stepped into the main part of the club, the lighting an ever-present dim with the appropriate blues and purples flashing. Couches surrounded tables along the walls, and their group approached the one reserved for them as the women who worked there walked around carried several bottles topped with sparklers as people around them danced.

As soon as they got to their table, the drinks were brought out, and when Calum moved to pour them for everyone, Luke swatted him away. “You’re always serving us, man. Chill,” he said with a laugh and Calum rolled his eyes, though the smile danced on his lips as he watched his friend pour more shots.

The shots were taken right after cheering to Ashton’s birthday, their laughter nearly drowned out by the upbeat music blaring around them. Their table and sitting area were on a higher platform, but people were all around dancing, the DJ’s booth set up a few feet away to their left and the bar opposite of them, separated by dancing bodies.

It didn’t take long for the girls to want to dance, and Calum watched with a small smile as Sierra grabbed Adeline’s hand and the two of them followed Kaykay and Crystal to dance, Ashton and Luke joining them. There wasn’t that much space right by their area on the platform, so his gaze trailed after them as they headed down the couple of steps for more room.

“So—question,” Michael spoke up from where he sat next to him, sipping whatever mixed drink he created for himself. “Are you gonna ask Adeline out again, or are you gonna do what you did in high school and crush on her for two years before finding the balls to do it?”

Calum pursed his lips after swallowing his own drink. He settled for a glass of whiskey that he planned to stretch out throughout the night. The shots they’d taken hummed in his veins and he could feel the lightheaded effects of them, but he didn’t plan on getting shit faced tonight, even if it was one of his best friends’ birthday.

But he shot Michael a flat look, suppressing a sigh at the mention of his teenage behavior. He’d endured Luke and Michael’s teasing when it came to Adeline, fully aware of his feelings for her but never acting on them—until he did.

With the rest of their friends busy dancing and the loud music serving as a tool for privacy, Calum let out a sigh. He looked down at his glass, the amber liquid looking darker thanks to the lack of light in the club, elbows resting on his knees as he ducked his head to mess with his hair. “I don’t know if asking her out would be a good idea,” Calum admitted, the words more bitter in his mouth than the drink he nursed.

“How come?” Michael eyes, green eyes near translucent under the flashing lights. “Didn’t you guys, I dunno, have a moment the other day? Ask me, that’s not just a slip.”

Calum licked his lips, tasting the spicy whiskey as his gaze wandered to where he could see Adeline dancing with their friends. He caught glimpses of her between people, but the smile on her face was too bright to ignore. Her brown hair danced with her and the lights made her skin glow—he couldn’t tear his gaze away. The day at her house. . . That wasn’t a slip.

And maybe it was the sense of security Calum felt being in the blustering club, too loud and noisy. Maybe it was the fact that Adeline was too far away to have a chance of hearing Calum’s most inner, desperate thoughts. Or maybe it was that Michael, other than Luke, was the only one who knew Calum and Adeline’s history well. Maybe it was just the alcohol giving him courage.

But Calum found his voice lowering, too quiet for this roaring setting, but enough for just Michael to hear as he said through a dry throat, “There’s never been anyone after Adeline.” He could feel Michael’s gaze on him, but Calum kept his eyes glued to his ex-girlfriend, who was laughing as Luke spun her around in a twirl. Calum was hit with the urge to go down there and dance with her. “Over these past few years, every time I tried to start something with someone new, I’d always go back to her. And now she’s back and I just. . . I don’t want there to be anyone else. Nothing felt right—not like my relationship with her did.”

“If you knew what—who—you want, then what’s stopping you?” Michael inquired, not unkindly. His friends, Calum knew, sometimes had a hard time figuring him out. Truthfully, the boys were some of the very few people who knew Calum inside and out. They were who Calum was a hundred percent comfortable being himself with, and Adeline used to—still does?—fall into that category. Even so, sometimes his boys couldn’t quite decipher Calum’s feelings. Calum didn’t blame them; more often than not, he was in tuned with what and how he felt. But sometimes, even he couldn’t figure out what the fuck was going on in his heart.

Calum took a sip of his drink. The whiskey didn’t even burn anymore. With a dry laugh, he told Michael, “She just broke off a three year relationship, Mike.”

“Yeah, like, over a month ago.”

Calum scoffed in mild amusement at the frankness of Michael’s tone. “They were going to get married. I don’t think a month’s long enough to just move on from that.”

“Why don’t you let her be the judge of that?” Michael retorted with a raise of an eyebrow. “Besides, the guy ended up being a total asshole, right? Trust me—knowing you broke it off with a shitty person sometimes speeds up the healing process.”

As opposed to breaking it off with someone you still loved—that sort of thing you didn’t get over. Ask Calum; he was still more or less—okay, totally—in love with the same girl after six years.

Admitting that wasn’t as emotionally difficult as Calum would have thought. God, he was fucked.

“Still—I don’t want to rush her or anything,” Calum said as a Travis Scott remix started playing. He frowned to himself then. “I’m not—I don’t even know if she would want to start anything with me. Being friends is one thing, but being in a relationship. . .”

Calum trailed off, jaw tightening briefly as he watched Adeline sing along to the song, doing so right into Crystal’s camera as she recorded the two of them.

He was vaguely aware of Michael watching him. Calum still couldn’t bring himself to look away from Adeline, and he heard Michael scoff. “Yeah, no. I don’t think you two can ever just be friends.”

Despite himself, Calum snorted, lips curving wryly. He couldn’t help but agree.

Their friends danced for a couple of more songs before they stepped back up onto the platform, smiles on their faces as Luke sat down diagonally of Calum and leaned forward to pour himself a drink. Adeline stood on the other side of the square table, hands on her hips as she looked down at Calum, unimpressed.

“You’re so boring—why aren’t you dancing?”

Calum was leaning back on the couch, drink still in the hand that rested atop his right knee, the ankle resting on his left knee. “When have I ever been known to dance, Addie?” he asked over the sound of the music.

A small smirk tugged at her lips. Just like the rest of them, a thin sheen of sweat glistened on her skin from the dancing and she’d gathered her hair over her shoulder. “When you’re drunk enough,” she answered knowingly. Ashton snickered, muttering she’s got a point as Calum rolled his eyes. “You’re not—”

Her words cut off and Calum’s foot fell off his knee, ready to stand to help her catch her balance as someone accidentally bumped into her. But Crystal was right next to her, grabbing onto her arm, as the guy who bumped into her turned to look over. “Oh, my bad, I’m—you’re shitting me.”

Calum’s eyebrows knitted together as the guy, with dark hair and about as tall as Ashton, scoffed when his gaze landed on an equally unpleasantly surprised Adeline. Calum noted the way she took a step back as she looked at him, and upon hearing the stranger’s words, their table fell silent despite the lively club around them.

Something twisted in Calum’s gut, having a feeling that he knew exactly who this guy was by the darkened look on Adeline’s face. His thoughts were only confirmed when Adeline merely stated tightly, “Ian.”

Calum could sense all of his friends tense, exchanging looks, as Calum’s own body tightened. There was a sharp, blinding urge to put as much space between Adeline and her ex-fiancé as he could manage. His grip on his glass tightened; there was also an urge to throw it at the guy’s face.

So this was the asshole who fucked Adeline over, who wanted her only for what was in her wallet and not for who she was. The mere thought seemed unfathomable to Calum, but he figured not everyone was like that. He hated that Adeline was involved with someone as, well, despicable as Ian. Hated that she almost married the guy.

From what Calum could tell through the flashing lights of the club, there was no longing in Ian’s face as he gazed at Adeline. Just pure distaste and anger. Sure, it probably didn’t feel great to be left at the altar, but it was kind of hypocritical, wasn’t it? Given that he was only in it to fatten up his own bank account. Ass-wipe.

“Adeline,” Ian returned, and Calum recognized the tight, mocking tone he spoke in. It only made him all the more tense, ready to jump in. “How’s single life treating you?” His gaze gave their table a once over, unimpressed, before looking back at her. “Run out on any more weddings?”

Her response was quick. “Only the one with you at the end of the altar.”

Ian’s lips curled and even though the music was pounding as loudly as his own heart, Calum still listened intently as Ian lifted his chin. “You sound pretty proud for someone whose family has apologized more to me than you did.” He clicked his tongue, the sound barely registering. “You’ve become such a disappointment to all of them.”

Calum recognized the scowls on all of his friends’ faces, and Luke, who sat closest to where Ian stood, looked about five seconds away from kicking Ian’s feet out from under him. If Ian’s words had an effect on Adeline, she didn’t show it. “You think I care what they think? You and them—you’re all the same: greedy for wanting what you’ll never have.” Her jaw tightened, eyes sharp and unforgiving. “I’ve got nothing to apologize to you for. You were only looking out for yourself—you don’t get to be pissed that I did the same for myself.”

There was a swell of pride in Calum’s chest as he listened to Adeline stand up for herself, to be utterly unapologetic for what she did. Leaving Ian when she found out the truth hurt her, Calum knew, but he also knew it was far better than remaining oblivious and going through with the wedding, only to find out the truth later. She had saved herself from more pain than what she already went through.

The second Calum saw Ian’s eyes flash—and not from the trick of the lights—he was on his feet, glass on the table. He could feel some pairs of eyes on him, but his hardened gaze was on Ian as he took a threatening step towards Adeline and snarled, “I wasted three fucking years on—”

“That’s enough,” Calum interrupted, arriving at Adeline’s side. She didn’t need him fighting her battles for her, he knew, but Calum couldn’t sit back and let this motherfucker talk to her like she was beneath him. He was physically incapable of it. So Calum took a step between them, and instantly Ian’s gaze went to him, the anger at Adeline and interruption not well received. Calum stared him down, jaw tight. “I’d walk away if I were you.”

Ian scoffed, as if he couldn’t believe Calum’s audacity. Calum couldn’t help the slight machoistic and smug feeling of being taller than him. “Who the fuck do you think you are?”

Calum felt a hand on his arm. “Calum—” Adeline started, not to give Ian his name but to probably tell Calum that it wasn’t worth it.

But she didn’t get to finish, because recognition instantly flickered across Ian’s face upon hearing his name. He let out an unsurprised guffaw, clapping his hands together once as he looked at the two of them. Calum didn’t move, shoulders squared, as a new kind of aggravation settled in Ian’s eyes. Looking at Calum, Ian scoffed. “So you’re the infamous ex she’s been hung up over.” Ian clicked his tongue. Calum’s expression didn’t so much as flicker. “Gotta tell you, man, you raised her standards a bit too high. But it seemed to work out for you two, didn’t it?” His hateful gaze flickered down to look at Adeline, who now stood at Calum’s side. Ian’s lips curled into a bland smirk. “Walked out of our wedding just to jump right back into his bed, huh? Doesn’t fucking surprise me in the least.”

Adeline was tense beside him, and Calum’s own anger was simmering in his blood at the blatant disrespect. More than anything, he wanted to connect his fist to Ian’s jaw, wanted to knock him right on his ass for the way he was talking to and looking at Adeline. But he knew the second he did that, he’d lose Adeline’s respect. And no matter how much he wanted to break Ian’s nose, it wouldn’t be worth it.

So he clenched his fists, fighting the urge, teeth aching from how tightly he was pressing them together. But there was deathly calm look in Calum’s eyes that presented itself in the anger he felt, his gaze never wavering from Ian’s. “Walk away, Ian. It would be the smart thing for you to do—trust me.”

Ian’s lips curled into a sneer, harsh gaze remaining on Adeline before he stood straight. He let out a scoff with a shake of his head. “Don’t worry, I was just heading out. Wouldn’t wanna be caught dead in the same place as her.”

And then he was gone, and Calum’s blood was still boiling. But he focused on Adeline instead, who was still staring after the direction Ian had walked and disappeared from, and he couldn’t get a good read on her expression. Adeline took in a sharp breath then, blinking as if she was tying herself back into reality, and looked past Calum towards where their friends were silently sitting.

“I’m so sorry about that, you guys,” Adeline said, her voice thick as she looked at all of their worried faces. Calum knew, just then, she was holding back her emotions. The encounter affected her more than she was letting on. “I’m sorry you had to see that. Just—please—don’t let it screw up this night.”

Calum had the urge to hold her hand—to hold her—when he realized Adeline needed the reassurance that what just happened didn’t, in fact, mess up anyone’s mood. And Ashton seemed to realize that, too, as he spoke up in that reassuring tone of his, “It didn’t, Adeline. You’ve got nothing to apologize for. We’re not gonna let some asshole ruin the night.”

And given that this night was to celebrate him, Ashton’s words seemed to have a calming effect on Adeline as her shoulders sank a bit, a small smile on her lips. “I’m, uh,” she ran her fingers through her hair, taking a breath. “I’m gonna get a drink from the bar.”

She turned quickly, walking off the platform and towards the bar. Calum kept track of her as she went, his jaw still tight, as he heard Kaykay ask, “Is she alright?”

Calum glanced back at them, pursing his lips. “I’ll check on her.” He turned to go before pausing and looking at them once more, gesturing vaguely with his hand. “Just—don’t look so focused on her. Dance. Drink. Pretend that shit didn’t just happen.”

He left then, wandering down the steps and making his way through the crowd as he approached the bar where he caught Adeline leaning against it. Calum was vaguely aware of a guy or two nearby glancing over at her, probably debating on whether to approach her. He killed their train of thought by sliding up next to her and asking, “Do you wanna talk about it?”

Adeline faced him, left elbow propped on top of the glass bar as she looked up at him with eyes glimmering with unshed tears. Angry tears. “I want to rip his eyes out with my bare hands,” Adeline seethed, and he wasn’t sure he’d ever heard her this pissed off before.

Calum glanced down at her fingers, noting the pointed ends of her maroon painted nails. “You’d be able to do some damage,” he pointed out with a quirk of his eyebrows.

“I mean—” Adeline scoffed in disbelief, before looking away and sniffling, shaking her head. “Who the fuck does he think he is? Treating me like I’m the bad guy in this whole thing? He hasn’t even fessed up to his bullshit manipulation even though I heard him myself and he’s trying to make it seem like I ran out on him without precedence?” The incredulity was heavy in her voice as she ranted quickly, and if Calum dug deeper, he could hear the hurt, too. But none of it was as prevalent as the anger. “And then bringing you into it—God, I hate him. I really think I do.”

The bartender placed a drink in front of Adeline. Calum recognized it as Hennessy and Coke. Looking at her, he said, “No one would blame you if you do.”

Adeline’s hand wrapped around the glass, another scoff escaping her, this time with a wry smile. “No one except for my beloved family,” she said. Calum clenched his jaw. There was a reason why Calum only ever met one other member of Adeline’s family. The rest were, like she always said, vultures. No wonder they sided with Ian in this whole ordeal. Adeline’s jaw worked as she looked down at her drink, shaking her head absently. “Aunt Lorraine was right. I never should’ve let it get so far with Ian.” She brought the glass up, sipping through the straw before muttering absently, “Total downgrade.”

Calum wasn’t quite sure if he was supposed to hear that, but he did even over the sound of the thumping bass, and it had his heart skipping a beat as he watched her. Suddenly he felt as though he needed a drink, shuffling closer to Adeline when someone bumped into his back.

The movement had Adeline looking up at him, throat working. “You didn’t have to jump in but, um, thanks, Calum. I appreciated it,” she said, her words bringing him a sense of relief he didn’t know he needed. He was just glad she wasn’t bothered that he got in between them.

He offered a half smile, lifting one shoulder. “It was instinct,” he told her truthfully. Adeline’s gaze met his again, and Calum’s chest felt warm. “Someone was being a dick to you—I couldn’t just sit and watch it happen. I know you’re capable of defending yourself, but it doesn’t mean you have to.”

She smiled then, grateful and adoring. They were silent for a moment, watching the ongoings around them, and Calum kept his gaze away because he could feel Adeline’s on him. Keeping his expression neutral had never felt so difficult. “Thanks for not bringing it up.”

He dragged his gaze back to her then, eyebrows knitting together in confusion. “Bringing what up?”

Adeline smiled wryly. “What Ian said—about you being the ex I’ve been hung up on.”

Calum had a feeling if Adeline really focused, she’d be able to hear the way his heart picked up even under all the noise of the boisterous club. That statement from Ian hadn’t slipped Calum’s mind, turning it over and over as he already started analyzing it. Although his posture was casual—slightly bent to rest his right elbow on the bar top, leaning against it—Calum felt anything but.

Somehow, he found the nerve to ask, “Was there any truth in what he said?”

He could’ve sworn he detected some nervousness in her gaze as she peered up at him, free hand fiddling with the thin black straw in her glass. “What do you think?” she asked instead.

“I don’t wanna answer that,” Calum told her with a short chuckle. “It’ll only make it sound like I’ve got an overinflated sense of self-worth in your life.”

His response, for whatever reason, made Adeline grin around her straw, lifting her chin as she kept her gaze on him. She pushed herself away from the bar, moving to walk past him into the direction of where their friends were. But she paused briefly to say, “Your sense of self-worth in my life is exactly what it is.” Calum’s teeth pressed together, inhaling sharply as that glimmer returned in her eyes. Her smile was teasing, but her eyes were honest. “It might actually be more.”

And then she was walking, and Calum was left staring at her dumbly for a moment. He was an idiot if he ever thought he’d move on from her.

He joined all of them quickly after, and the night fortunately continued as if Ian’s interruption never happened. Calum even let Adeline drag him onto his feet to dance some, ignoring the need to have her closer to him than she was while they danced.

Most of the night, though, they spent at their table with glasses in hands and their chatter creating a cacophony with the music playing. Adeline ended up sitting on top of the couch, leaning her back against the wall the couch was up against. And Calum was sitting on the couch itself, glass once again in hand as he leaned back on the couch, his body framed by Adeline’s legs.

Nobody blinked twice when Adeline’s fingers started playing with Calum’s blonde hair, the dark roots gradually growing in. Nobody found it odd that when Adeline wanted to speak directly to Calum, one of her hands found its way under his chin from where she sat above him, and gave his head a tilt until he was looking up at her and she was leaning down to speak to him over the loud music, her hair sometimes framing them—shielding them from others’ views. Nobody made comments when Calum’s left arm wrapped around Adeline’s left leg, fingers trailing from her knee to her ankle and up again through the material of her pants.

It looked right. It felt right. So they let it be.

And Calum, for the first time in six years, felt what it was like to once again be complete.

*****

The smell of earth—damp mud and wet grass—tickled Adeline’s nose as a gentle breeze kissed her skin where she stood on the spacious back porch of the lake house. She gripped the wooden railing as she took in the lake before her, glimmering under the early afternoon sun, the leaves of trees surrounding it whispering against one another in the wind. The smell of the city after a rain shower was different than the smells that rose at the lake house—and Adeline had missed this.

She kind of hated that she had hesitated so much on returning here since emptying Aunt Lorraine’s ashes, but after the shit show on Ashton’s birthday with Ian last week, Adeline’s need for a vacation had multiplied tenfold. And the only place she could think of to go to was the beloved lake house. She didn’t want to go alone, though, so she told all of the guys and the girls to come if they wanted. The lake house had five bedrooms because this had been a place where Aunt Lorraine would come to with her friends for mini girls trips—it was one of the reasons why she bought it, other than to get out of the city with Adeline when it got too much—so there was enough rooms for all of them if they shared.

They were going to make a long weekend out of it, arriving on Friday and then leaving Sunday. But because nobody had been at the lake house for two months, Adeline figured there would be some cleaning to do despite most of the furniture being covered in sheets. So she drove the hour and a half drive out of the city on Thursday, a whole day before everyone was set to arrive, to tidy the place up.

And adjust to being there without Aunt Lorraine.

Adeline had already gotten started in cleaning up the living room and kitchen, putting away the sheets that covered the couches and tables and using the appropriate supplies to rid of any dust that had settled. The lake house was lovely, built with wood and stones of different shades of brown and grey, wooden beams supporting the structure. The walls of the living room had large windows that gave a view of the lake in the back, smaller windows in the connecting kitchen to provide the same view. There was no formal dining room, instead a picnic bench style dining table was set up in the living room.

A TV was mounted on the wall with the fireplace underneath, and in the corner was a liquor cabinet Adeline had stocked upon her arrival—along with making sure the fridge and kitchen itself had food and drinks for her and her friends. She’d connected the TV to Spotify and was playing music to fill the silence while she cleaned, knowing if it was too quiet, she would lose herself in nostalgic thoughts she didn’t quite want to revisit.

Adeline was about two hours into cleaning when, through one of the further back windows, she saw a car pull into the driveway. She shut off the vacuum, eyebrows furrowing together at the unfamiliar vehicle, before her heart jumped at the sight of Calum stepping out. She had given all of her friends the address of the lake house, but they weren’t due until tomorrow.

Hastily, Adeline approached the door, pausing to peer down at her denim shorts and oversized grey Santa Cruz hoodie in a moment of insecurity. It left as quickly as it came, realizing that Calum had seen her at her worst while they were dating and, well, it was Calum. So she opened the door right as he was about five feet away from it, a duffel bag hanging off his shoulder.

“You’re about a day early,” she said by way of greeting, though there was no stopping the smile from growing on her face.

Calum chuckled, the sound raspy and delicious, as he stepped through the threshold. “Didn’t feel right, letting you come here and clean the place up by yourself.” She closed the door and watched his brown eyes take in his surroundings, doing her best not to focus on the sharp line of his jaw as he let out a low whistle. “It looks exactly the same.”

“It feels the same, too.”

Calum quirked a dark eyebrow. “Was it supposed to feel different?”

Adeline offered a small, almost sheepish smile, playing with the sleeves of her sweatshirt. They were long and she’d had to scrunch them up to her elbows to work efficiently, but it was one of her favorite sweatshirts. It brought her a calming sense of comfort. “I was kind of expecting it to feel. . . Haunted,” Adeline admitted, her gaze darting around the place. There was a tightness in her chest, not painful, but still present. “But it doesn’t. It—it feels like home.”

And it did. It felt home in the way the paintings Aunt Lorraine liked were still hung up on the walls, or in the way there were still candles set up on the ledges around the place that her aunt always loved lighting. Little touches of Aunt Lorraine were still all around the lake house, and even though she wasn’t physically there, Adeline still knew she was.

“I’m glad to hear that, Addie,” Calum said, looking at her once more. “I—”

He cut himself off as he gazed at her and Adeline blinked at the look on his face. Her breath caught at the way he stared at her—a way that was so intimately familiar and one she felt her heart flutter at the sight of. Adeline had absolutely no fucking clue what was going on between the two of them, but every time she thought about it—about him—it made her feel like that teenager again. She’d missed that feeling so much.

When she was about to ask Calum if everything was okay, he beat her to it, his accented voice slightly thick as he stated, “That’s my sweatshirt.”

Adeline looked down at herself, as if just realizing what she was wearing and, in a way, she was. Her breath caught in her throat as she realized that he was right—this sweatshirt was Calum’s, one she’d all but stolen back when she was eighteen and still his girlfriend. It had ended up with her at college, and Adeline never thought to give it back after they’d broken up. Could never bring herself to, so she kept it.

She didn’t think he’d remember. It had lost his smell a long time ago.

“Oh,” Adeline breathed, looking up at him once more. The look in his brown eyes—it was too much but it was everything. She didn’t know what to do with and she knew that he didn’t, either. She kind of felt awkward, but the way he was looking at her made her feel so warm. “Sorry I never gave it back—”

“Don’t be.” Calum cleared his throat, blinking away the glimmer that had found its way into his eyes, replacing it with that boyish half smile that had her stomach flipping. Suddenly, he looked like that sixteen year old boy she met in second period English. “It always looked better on you, anyway.”

If they flirted anymore without acting on it, Adeline was positive she’d burst into flames. Or tears. Either one.

“Come on,” Calum ticked his head, the smile still on his face. “We’ve got some cleaning to do, yeah?”

Adeline was more inclined to jump his bones but yeah, sure. Cleaning would do.

He put his things away in one of the bedrooms since they had to clean upstairs anyway. There weren’t any sheets on the beds or pillows, so they got some from the linen cabinet and worked on two rooms each, the music that was playing on the TV downstairs filtering upstairs, too.

One of the rooms Adeline was in was Aunt Lorraine’s old bedroom, and Adeline was surprised it didn’t hurt too much to be in there. Maybe it helped that none of Aunt Lorraine’s personal effects were in the room, other than decoration pieces. Besides, Adeline was already living in their house, had already found her way back to the lake house—the pain was there, sure, but it didn’t feel as paralyzing. Dr. Boocz would call that progress.

Adeline cursed under her breath as she knocked her foot against a cardboard box poking out from under the bed, but she didn’t pay it any mind until she had the sheets on the bed and pillow. Once she was done, she pulled the box out, eyebrows furrowed, as she sat on the floor and leaned her back against the bed. The box wasn’t taped shut or anything, so Adeline opened the flaps and peered inside, eyebrows shooting up as she caught sight of a red photo album—one that had Adeline written across the front in gold cursive.

She recognized the photo album; it was one Aunt Lorraine had kept since she was a child—since she had come to live with her after her parents’ deaths. Adeline waited for the burst of pain to shoot through at the thought of her aunt making this album, but it didn’t come. Instead, there was a warmth in her chest that she labeled as fondness, and a small smile curved at her lips as she opened it.

The pictures started with Adeline as an infant, photographs she figured her mother had probably sent Aunt Lorraine. The pictures went as Adeline grew up, going from infant to toddler and so on. The smile remained on Adeline’s face as she looked at them, looked at the photos of her with her aunt and the genuine happiness on both of their faces, and she missed her. So much.

She turned the page and suddenly the pictures weren’t just of Adeline or of Adeline with Aunt Lorraine—but of Adeline with her friends. A shocked laugh burst through her lips at a picture of her with three familiar boys, her frame already too short next to the giants looming over her.

At that same moment, Adeline heard Calum’s voice. “Addie? You in here?”

“Down here,” Adeline responded, raising her arm so Calum could see her sitting on the other side of the bed. She heard his footsteps, glanced up to see his tall body towering over her even now, raising his eyebrows.

“What’re you doing?” he asked, gaze shifting to the album. “What’s that?”

Calum sat down next to her on the floor, bringing his knees up as she peered at the album. A curse escaped him, eyes widening as he looked at the picture of the two of them, plus Michael and Luke, standing together and smiling for the camera. The photo was from the school block party that was thrown at the beginning of every year. “That seems like a lifetime ago.”

He sat close to her, his woodsy, pine scent embracing her like a warm hug as she flipped through the pictures. It was strange seeing photographs of Calum without his tattoos—even if, for a long time, that was the only image she had of him. As opposed to now—much taller, ink coloring his skin, hair a different color and length as well. Everything about him was different and yet everything about him was the same.

“These were all taken before you hit puberty the second time,” Adeline mused, wanting to keep the air light as she turned the page. They were getting to pictures taken when the two of them had been together.

Calum chuckled next to her. “Exactly how many times do you think I’ve gone through puberty?”

Her voice was serious as she answered, “At least three.”

He laughed again, and the sound threatened to raise goosebumps along her skin. Adeline turned the page and Calum sucked in a breath as he said softly, “Oh, shit.”

She immediately knew what he was looking at; the picture from his senior prom. The two of them had attended two senior proms, of course; one from when Calum was a senior, and then when Adeline was a senior in high school, and he was a freshman in college. He’d come back to town to take her to prom. The picture was taken in front of Adeline’s house on the steps, her in a long silver dress that shimmered even in the picture and Calum looking wickedly handsome in his black tux. Both grinning, arms around each other, looking every bit like the high school sweethearts everyone assumed would last forever.

If their school crowned prom king and queen, Adeline always knew—admittedly arrogantly—that they’d win.

Silence befell them as they looked through the pictures; next came Calum’s high school graduation picture in his blue cap and gown, diploma in one hand and the other wrapped around a proudly grinning Adeline. The next two pictures came in the same order; first of Adeline’s senior prom—this time she wore a royal blue dress—and then her own graduation picture, dressed in her cap and gown with Calum standing behind her, arms wrapped around her and a grin just as proud as the one she’d worn for him.

Something in Adeline’s heart tugged, realizing they’d reached the end of the album, because after that, there hadn’t been as significant moments between them to capture—they had broken up just a few months into Adeline’s freshman year at college. That was where their story had ended. Until now.

Adeline closed the album, hand resting on top of the smooth velvet of it as she tried to rid of the dryness in her throat. She was acutely aware of the man sitting next to her—the man who’d been a boy in the pictures they just went through. Her heart was flipping tumultuously in her chest, and she wondered if Calum was feeling the same thing, or any semblance of it.

His warmth still seeped into her body from their closeness, his scent still around her, and Adeline tried to work up the nerve to look at him, half afraid whatever was raging inside her was just for her and he didn’t share in it.

Because in her heart and in her mind, Adeline knew that this wasn’t just fondness for the past acting up. She knew she wasn’t in some vulnerable state and letting her emotions get the better of her. She knew that whatever she was feeling, she was valid in feeling it. Because Calum—he wasn’t just anyone. He was exactly what she needed, what she wanted, and Adeline could feel the anxiety creeping up on her that it was unrequited.

She finally looked at him, her brown eyes meeting his darker ones, and the breath caught in her throat. He was so close—she could count all of his unfairly long eyelashes, could imagine the scratch of the stubble on his chin and around his mouth, could feel the slight brush of his curling hair against her forehead. Was he waiting for her to say something? That could take a while—Adeline seemed to have lost all coherent communication skills.

Calum’s lips, so soft and pink, parted but he didn’t say anything. She could see from the subtle twitch of his eyebrows that he wasn’t sure what to say, either. But she waited. He’d always been the more articulate one of the two of them. His throat worked and then Calum rasped in a quiet voice that wasn’t meant to disturb the silence of the house, “When can I see you again?”

A startled, adoring laugh threatened to burst out of Adeline, but she kept it down. Her heart was beating wildly—could he hear it? She knew exactly what he was asking of her, and Adeline could fucking cry from relief. But she didn’t. Instead, she took a breath, voice shaking with yearning and anticipation as she whispered, “Now. You can see me right now.”

She saw the profound relief that crossed his face before he leaned forward, because of course by see he meant kiss and of course Adeline knew that as she met him in the middle, eyes slipping shut, and finally kissed the only man she ever truly, undeterredly loved for eight years.

It felt like coming home.

Calum’s lips were as soft as she remembered, his hand reaching up to cup her cheek and pull her towards him. Everything else slipped away except for Calum as Adeline sensed him lower his legs and draw her closer, and Adeline shifted until she was straddling his lap, hands gripping the front of his shirt. He kissed her like he would die if he didn’t, his touch warm against her as he deepened the kiss and, God, how had she gone so long without this? Without him?

Calum’s hands dropped to the back of her bare thighs and, in one swift movement, gripped her and stood to his feet. The kiss never broke as Calum lowered Adeline carefully onto the mattress, his body between her legs as he hovered over her.

He broke the kiss and Adeline’s heart was pounding, vaguely aware of the music still playing throughout the house—a Hozier song. But her focus was on Calum on top of her, the warmth of his body and the way her lips hummed from his kisses. His darkening blonde curls fell over his forehead as he looked down at her, his own lips pink and kissed, and he looked absolutely perfect. The tightness in Adeline’s chest eased and she couldn’t possibly begin to describe what she felt in that moment—what she’d been feeling since the second he kissed her. Home. That’s what he was to her. And she’d been away far too long.

“I wanna say somethin’,” Calum spoke, his voice low and gruff as his nose brushed against Adeline’s. His hooded gaze was on her lips, his jaw popping briefly. “But I don’t want you think I’m only saying it because of—this.”

Adeline didn’t think her heart would calm down any time soon. Her hand reached up, brushing back some curls from his forehead before cupping his cheek, her smile soft when he leaned into her touch. The back of her mind whispered its guess of what Calum wanted to say, but she needed to hear it from his voice. Her own tone dropping to a breathless whisper, she said, “Say it.”

Calum’s gaze lifted so his brown eyes could lock with hers, lips parting as he took in an unsteady breath. His eyebrows twitched together, and Adeline knew he was working up the nerve, and she waited patiently with a thundering heart. And when he finally spoke, his voice was soft, but firm with absolute truth. “I love you.” Adeline sucked in a sharp breath and she wondered if he could feel the way her hand trembled against his cheek. A soft smile tugged at Calum’s lips, never breaking their gaze. “Never stopped, if I’m being honest. If there’s one thing I regret, it’s not coming back for you.”

There was a sting in Adeline’s eyes and she didn’t want to cry, but Calum’s words had more of an impact on her than either of them could’ve guessed. Her heart was thundering under her chest as she looked up at him. “I think,” she began, her voice a shaky whisper as she tried to find the right words. “I think I was blinded by whatever sense of security I thought Ian gave me—so much that I almost went through with the biggest mistake I could’ve made.” Adeline’s throat worked as Calum hung on to every word she said, her lips curving up in a small smile. “But the truth is, it’s always been you.” A breathless laugh escaped her, hand sliding from her cheek to the back of his head, fingers tangling with his hair as a smile grew on his lips. “I love you, too.”

He laughed then, too, breathless and overwhelmed as she was before closing the gap and kissing her, setting a fire in Adeline’s veins as she pulled him closer.

They moved together, reacquainting themselves with each other’s bodies effortlessly as kisses broke only to get rid of the offending clothes. Adeline’s hands slid over Calum’s body, fingers dancing over the ink on his skin, feeling the muscles shift and flex under her touch as he kissed her deeply. The press of his bare body against hers, the unobstructed warmth as he touched every curve, was so, so wonderfully familiar but excitingly new, and Adeline couldn’t get enough.

They touched each other like it was the first time and last time, finding home in the swells and dips, not mourning what they missed by welcoming the sense of belonging they found in one another. Every kiss, every touch, every drag of hips was slow but desperate and purposeful, her soft sighs and his deep groans a cacophony with the music still playing throughout the house. Calum’s rings chilled her skin that was deliciously scratched by his stubble and her nails dragged down his back seductively, needily, and it was everything they could’ve hoped for and more.

Adeline craved him; his kisses and his touch and the way he fit so perfectly and, fuck, how’d she go so long without any of this? Even back in high school, Adeline knew Calum was someone special, way before they started dating. She knew he was someone she wanted in her life in any way he could exist. How fucking stupid to have let him go, to live six years without his smile and laugh and company and touch?

Never again.

They lay on their sides after, spent and breathing back to normal, legs tangled together under the sheets as Calum’s fingers played with hers. There was a pinkness in Calum’s cheeks, resembling her own, as she watched him watch the way their fingers lightly, gently played against one another’s. An unrecognizable ballad was playing softly throughout the house, but Adeline paid it no mind, too focused on the man laying before her.

He loved her. He still felt the same way about her, and it was everything. The years and distance between them didn’t matter, not when being with him felt so right, like it was exactly where she was supposed to be. They found each other once again, after so long, and this time Adeline would be damned if she ever let this, ever let him, go.

“It feels like nothing’s changed,” Adeline said softly, not wanting to disturb the intimate quiet between them.

Calum’s eyes met hers, one corner of his lips curving up. “One thing’s changed,” he said in a low voice, and when Adeline quirked an eyebrow, he continued, “I know what life’s like without you. And it’s not something I want to experience ever again. It was—I hated it, Addie, being away from you. Not knowing where or how you were. Every day that I didn’t try to reach out to you—I hated myself for it.”

Adeline didn’t want to dwell on that—both of their refusal of finding the other. She knew his reasoning was the same as hers; too afraid to disrupt the other’s life. And it was that fear that kept them apart, but no longer. There was nothing keeping them apart, nor would there be. Spending a life without Calum seemed unfathomable, and Adeline had no interest in doing so.

“We’re here now,” Adeline said, moving her fingers so they threaded through Calum’s, holding his hand. “If there’s one thing Aunt Lorraine taught me—” Adeline took a breath, briefly preparing for that sting of pain. It was there, but not as prominent, as Calum squeezed her hand. “It’s to keep those important to you close.” A simple lesson, but one Adeline was finally understanding. She let out a soft laugh. “It’s about time I learned it.”

Calum grinned, breathtaking and wide and allowing his crinkles to make an appearance. He kissed the back of her hand, eyes never leaving hers, before he asked with that smile turning boyish and teasing. “So, Addie—when can I see you again?”

Her breath caught with the grin she wore, the flutter in her chest one she never wanted to be rid of. She didn’t think she’d been this happy since—well, since before Aunt Lorraine passed. How unsurprising that it was Calum, of all people, who brought that happiness back in her life.

“Tonight,” Adeline answered through her smile, leaning forward and pressing her lips to his. “Tomorrow,” she continued, speaking between kisses as Calum’s hands found her hips and pulled her on top of him. The sheets slipped down a bit, but her hair provided a curtain for the two of them, lost in their own worlds as she kept kissing him and his laughter rumbled deeply through his chest, keeping her close.

She knew he wasn’t about to let her go any time soon—she obviously wouldn’t want him to, her own hands resting on his shoulders. His eyes were bright, a light shining in them that she had missed. Calum, this, the two of them together—it would always come down to this. They were inevitable. “The day after that. . . And every day after that, too.”

tags: @irwinkitten @loveroflrh @meetashthere @astroashtonio @loverofhood @captain-what-is-going-on @angelbabiesss @singt0mecalum @hopelessxcynic @lfwallscouldtalk @bodhi-black @findingliam-o @softlrh @highfivecalum @malumsmermaid @erikamarie41 @quintodosuniversos @longlastingdaydream @babylon-corgis @lukehemmingsunflower @miss-saltwatercowgirl @pastelpapermoons @conquerwhatliesahead92 @rotten-kandy @neigcthood @ohhmuke @mindkaleidoscope @5sos-and-hessa @trustmeimawhalebiologist @vxlentinecal @pettybassists @vaporshawn @lu-my-golden-boi @visualm3nte @isabella-mae13 @dontjinx-it @lifeakaharry @neonweeknds @antisocialbandmate @ixcantxdecidexwhosxmyxfave @calpalbby @grreatgooglymoogly @sunnysidesblog @miahelizaaabeth @dramallamawithsparkles @kaytiebug14 @hoodskillerqueen @bitchinbabylon @empathycth @xhaileyreneex @tpwkcal @sublimehood @madbomb @raabiac @britnicole11 @outofmylimitcal @wildflower-cth @wildflowergrae @bloodmoonashton @vxidhood @gosh-im-short @notinthesameguey @mycollectionofnuts @cthwldflwr @everyscarisahealingplace @socorroann @talkfastromance4 @calumftduke @musichoney @treatallwithkindness @partlysunnycal @dead-and-golden @kaeleykaeley @harrys-sun-flower @br-hoe

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thatmultifandomhoe · 4 years ago

Text

Someone Special

Pairing: Hongjoong and Reader

Word Count: 2,704

Genre/Rating: Christmas AU - Friends to Lovers - Fluff - teeny tiny bit angst - PG-13

Overview: “Last Christmas, I gave you my heart. But the very next day you gave it away. This year, to save me from tears, I’ll give it to someone special.”

Warning: Mentions of cheating and bareback roulette (practice safe sex my dears!)

Last Christmas by Wham!

Main Master List

Author’s Note: I hope y’all enjoy this little gift. Last Christmas is my absolute favorite song, and the movie that came out a few years ago with the same title is one of my all time favorites, so when Hongjoong dropped his cover, it gave me the inspiration to write this piece up. Merry Christmas everyone!

©thatmultifandomhoe 2020. Do not repost, translate, or use my stories without permission.

Snow was steadily falling, the sidewalk and roads had been covered in the first five minutes and several hours later, it was still coming down. You should have been outside shoveling the driveway, but instead, the throw blankets and the couch had beckoned you to come and watch a movie. The Christmas tree was decorated to the nines, and with only one lamp on to keep you from tripping over the furniture in the complete dark.

“Tada,” Hongjoong softly called out.

You looked away from the window, raising an eyebrow as Hongjoong walked towards you with not one, but two mugs filled to the brim with hot chocolate. The steam curled in the air as he took slow and easy steps, but he smiled with satisfaction when you carefully took the blue glazed mug from him. The moment your palms touched the side it felt as if they were being burned, but you held on to the handle as he reclaimed his seat next to you.

“You didn’t have to make this,” you teased.

He glanced over at you, eyes narrowing and lips curling into playful disgust. “Snow, movie, Christmas, of course I had to make hot chocolate.”

You rolled your eyes and tossed his half of the blanket back over his lap. Maybe it hadn’t been just the couch and blanket that had called out for you to sit down and enjoy the snow day. Maybe there had been a certain someone, who conveniently made the drive over to your place right before the storm to help with hanging a few decorations on the porch despite your reassurance that you were more than capable of doing it yourself, and was now unable to drive home due to a stay-at-home order because of how heavy the snow was coming down.

The power was still running thankfully, so for the last three hours the two of you had enjoyed – and critiqued – a variety of Christmas movies that Netflix offered. Despite them all being similar, there was no desire to exit out and find something different. It hadn’t felt like Christmas at all this season, and after a rough breakup last year around the same time, you were desperate to find the love and joy for the holiday that you once had.

Fate must have been against you however, because as Hongjoong picked up the remote to press play, a loud boom echoed outside, and the power shut off, cloaking the two of you in darkness. You waited to see if the TV would turn back on, but when the house remained silent and the only light suddenly appearing was the flashlight that Hongjoong turned on from his phone, you sighed, feeling defeated once more.

“This isn’t good,” Hongjoong said.

Even without the light on, or looking in his direction, you felt his lingering gaze on you. He knew how rough the last year had been for you, which is why you figured he offered to come out and help with decorating. There was no fun in doing it alone, and with your best friend by your side, it would at least be entertaining.

“It’s going to get cold,” you said instead, leaning forward, to set the hot chocolate on the coffee table. “Sit tight, I’ll get us some extra blankets.”

“Do you need some help?”

You shook your head, momentarily forgetting that he couldn’t see. “No, I’ll be fine.”

Turning on your own flashlight, you pointed it towards the floor and walked down the hall to the bedroom. You kept the best blankets in your room of course. Out of habit you glanced up at the ceiling, half expecting the white fairy lights that Hongjoong had helped you tack along the crown molding to be on. The plan was to keep those up all year long, because there was no way in hell that you were going up and down a ladder a hundred times every November, only to take them down at the end of January. Even standing on chairs, both you and Hongjoong had to stretch to reach the top.

As expected though, the lights were off, and you sighed once more while disappearing into your bedroom, beginning to gather the blankets. Setting the phone done to fold up the blankets, your mind wandered away from the present and took a trip down memory lane.

Christmas used to be your favorite holiday. From the bright lights, to the small village displays, even hanging up stockings and dealing with relatives who you had long forgotten where still alive, there was never a moment about it that didn’t make you smile. The entire season was full of magic, and as an adult, it felt like there was a secret law that made it forbidden to make it known that you still liked to believe in something that was considered so childish.

But when it snowed and suddenly the entire world fell silent, the fresh snow glittered under the moonlight, and the stars danced brightly in the night sky, magic felt like it was the only possible answer to it all.

You had been dating Hyunjin for almost two years, and at one point, you swore that he was going to be the one. Up until him, relationships never seemed to last, and the fact that you were getting ready to celebrate your second Christmas together appeared to be a promising sign. The only issue had been that Hongjoong never cared for him. Sure, he’d listen when you talked about him, or asked for advice. He wasn’t going to tell you no. But that didn’t mean he didn’t keep it to himself whenever Hyunjin messed up or didn’t do the right thing.

“I don’t think he’s the one,” was Hongjoong’s famous line. And every time you asked who he thought the one was, he’d just shrug and change the topic before adding in a quiet, “someone who’s always been there, who doesn’t make you cry,” afterwards. You always heard it, and while you knew he never did it to hurt you, it always felt he was trying to focus on only Hyunjin’s not so great side.

No one was perfect, and that included Hyunjin and his tendencies to go out drinking with his buddies and come home drunk either by his own methods or someone driving him. Or that he had a habit of flirting with anyone who talked to him, and his gaze always lingered on someone else for too long. Sure, he had his flaws, but being with him was to love a bottle of whiskey. The more of him that you had, the easier it was to swallow back the sting and forget about the broken shards he left in his wake.

You had loved Christmas, and had loved Hyunjin, but you didn’t love walking in on him playing bareback roulette with one woman, while another sloppily kissed him as she got satisfied by woman number one at the same time.

It was the girl who had been kissing Hyunjin that noticed you, and when he looked over his shoulder at you, there was no explanation. No excuse. No apology.

“Are you going to join or just stand there?” Hyunjin had asked instead.

Despite it being your house, you were the one who left and spent the night at Hongjoong’s, crying your pathetic self into his chest because you had given Hyunjin your entire heart, and he returned it smashed into tiny shards in a Ziploc bag. When you went back a few days later, all of Hyunjin’s belongings were gone, all except for a red thong that didn’t belong to you, was left on the floor by your bed.

The neighbors must have thought you were crazy when you stomped outside with sheets and pillowcases being dragged in the snow as you threw them in the trash bin in only leggings and a shirt that Hongjoong had let you borrow. The Christmas lights were yanked out of the light sockets, and you nearly threw out the tree as well, but it was heavy and when you plopped on the couch to try and warm your feet up from walking in the snow, the tears came out again.

When you woke up the next day, it was Christmas, and the magic was gone.

“Please don’t think about him,” a soft voice suddenly said.

Flinching at the sound, you looked up to see Hongjoong standing at the doorway, his phone held up to let him see what was holding you up. You dropped the blanket you had been folding as he entered the bedroom, his footsteps quiet as he reached out and slipped his hand into yours. It was a gentle and quick tug, one that allowed him to wrap you in a hug against his chest before you had a chance to pull away.

“I didn’t want to,” you whispered, fingers curling into the brown flannel he wore.

He leaned his head against yours, choosing the better option of not saying anything. Instead, his arms tightened around your waist for a brief moment as he sighed. “Come on. Let’s go back out to the living room. Your hot chocolate is waiting for you.”

With one arm remaining around you, Hongjoong grabbed the blankets with the other and led you back out to the living room. He had been over so many times that he didn’t need light to see where he was going. The path had been memorized long ago. Since the breakup, it wasn’t usual for Hongjoong’s touch to linger, and when the two of you sat back down on the couch, he pulled you into his side before layering the blankets on top. It was only when he was satisfied that he relaxed with one arm on the back of the couch as the other laid over your waist, that he turned to face you. Thanks to the light coming from the snow and the flashlight on the coffee table, you were able to see him.

His tongue darted out to wet his lips. “Do you miss him?”

“No.” Leaning the side of your head back against the cushion, you felt fingers smoothing back your hair before they slipped through the locks. You lightly hummed at Hongjoong’s caress, eyes briefly closing as you leaned into his touch, his soft scoff making the slightest smile appear on your face. When you opened them again however, you looked at the white light coming from his phone. “It’s just…hard to forget when the memories are tied with the holiday.”

“Sounds like you need new memories.”

You laughed then, focusing back on his face. Brown bangs covered his forehead and the sides of his undercut were starting to grow out, but even in the dark his eyes held a softness that you had been told he only had for you. His friends said he never looked at anyone else like that, and while you denied it, you couldn’t help but notice the warmth and tenderness in them this time.

“Guess I’ll have to go buy new memories next time I go grocery shopping,” you teased.

Hongjoong rolled his eyes, lips curling into a grin as he shifted once more. You were all too aware of how close he got when his arm settled around your shoulders. This wasn’t out of the norm for him. He was always touchy and a cuddle bug just like you, but right now with no power and sharing about half a dozen blankets, you were all too aware of his warmth that seemed to envelope you and the sudden butterflies flying around in your stomach. Coaxing and full of promises, all you had to do was trust it.

“You know what I mean,” Hongjoong said, leaning towards the coffee table to grab his mug. “One good memory will help lessen the pain of previous ones.”

Yours was still sitting where you left it, untouched, but after drinking what he wanted, he held it out for you to take like he knew what you had been thinking about. Not wanting to disturb the blankets too much, you carefully slipped your palms out from underneath to cradle the mug.

“Who?” You asked, tracing the rim of the mug with a finger. It wasn’t burning hot to the touch, a little more than warm, and when you looked up to see his curious frown, it was like that same warmth spread all the way up and down your body. All because of just one look from Hongjoong. “You always said he wasn’t the one for me. So, who is?”

He shook his head. “Don’t worry about it right now.”

“You never liked him, or any of my exes,” the hot chocolate was rich when you took a sip, the mini marshmallows that he had added to his were long since melted and resembled long, thin white clouds. “Someone who’s always been there. You were always talking about yourself, weren’t you?”

He didn’t meet your gaze. Instead, he focused on the window that was behind you and the thumb that had been running along your shoulder stilled. The fact that he wasn’t answering you, in a way, answered the question by itself. Hongjoong pressed his lips together and when he finally looked back at you, you got to see for yourself the way his expression softened and how despite his little secret coming out in the open, he sheepishly smiled.

“They weren’t right for you,” he simply said.

“Then why didn’t you ever say anything?”

His thumb began moving again and he took the mug away to set it back on the table. “Because you loved them. It wouldn’t have been fair to drop such a thing when you were dating other guys.”

“It wasn’t fair to you.” With nothing to hold on to, you started to lace your fingers together when Hongjoong gently swatted them away. When he slipped in his hand into yours and ran his thumb against the back of your palm, you swore you all but melted into him.

“I mean, from where I’m sitting,” he started to say, even lifting your intertwined hands to tilt your chin up so you were looking at him, suddenly much closer than before as he gently pressed his forehead against yours. “It seems pretty fair now.”

He spoke softly, and despite his confidence over his actions, he hesitated.

With only a tilt you leaned forward, closing the distance to kiss him. His lips tasted sweet from the hot chocolate and even as he kissed you back, he started to smile, forcing the two of you to lean back with matching grins. Hongjoong made up for it though, going back another, and then a third, until the kisses finally melted together. It was only when the audio from the TV filled the room that the two of you broke apart to see that the power had come back on.

“I guess there’s still some magic out there,” you softly spoke, glancing around the room to see that the tree was once more lit up.

Hongjoong merely smiled as he shut the TV off and reached over, turning you back around to face him. “The magic’s always been there,” he promised, “you just didn’t know where to look for it.”

You weren’t sure if he was talking about the magic of Christmas, or this, but when he brought you closer and kissed you again, taking his sweet time to show how much he loved you, you liked to think that it was both.

Outside the window, the snow had slowed down, but it was too late to go out and begin digging out cars and clearing driveways. That could be done in the morning, or even the afternoon. As Hongjoong cupped the side of your face and sweetly kissed you like he had been destined to do so all along, the tainted and painful memories of last Christmas melted away as new ones took their place.

With Hongjoong, there wouldn’t be any more tears, or a shattered heart for Christmas this year. Maybe the magic is finding someone special who’ll treasure, and love a heart, that’s been broken and patched up without a second thought.

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luci-in-trenchcoats · 5 years ago

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Blank Slate

Summary: After losing her memories of her life with her family, the reader has to try and piece together what exactly happened to her with her husband’s help...

Pairing: Actor!Dean x reader

Word Count: 9,500ish

Warnings, language, angst, head injury, minor violence

______

“Hi mom,” said a five year old girl at the front door, the man next to you giving you a smile.

“Hi, uh, Harper,” you said.

“Harper’s my sister,” she said with a frown, glancing at the man.

“Oh, uh, hi...” you said, looking at the man for help.

“Holland. We call her Holly,” he said.

“Hi Holly,” you said, giving her a smile, watching a careful one cross onto her face.

“Mom’s head is still hurt?” she asked. The man nodded, telling the girl to go play as you caught sight of a few more adults in the house, older looking than the man by your side. He kicked off his boots and helped you with yours, letting you look around the foyer. You wandered over to a wedding picture, tilting your head at it.

“You remember anything?” he asked. You shook your head, a white framed letter hanging beside the photo you started to read. “I wrote that for you as a wedding present.”

“It’s very sweet,” you said when you finished, looking back at the picture, turning to look at him. “I can’t even remember my husband’s name without looking at a piece of paper. Or my wedding day or the names of my kids.”

“I know. I know. The doctor said this is all trauma based so your brain is all okay. We just have to get you to access those memories again. That’s why you came home from the hospital, so we could try to get them out here. Do you remember that?” he asked.

“Dr. Henderson said that yesterday,” you said, the man giving you a smile.

“Yes. He did. Your short term memory is getting better. I know you don’t see it honey but it is,” he said. “We’ll get you there. I promise.”

“What’s your name again?” you asked.

“Dean,” he said softly. “Sometimes you call me Dean or Winchester or De or dork or honey or babe or Deanie Weanie if you want to tease me or...you’ve got a lot of nicknames for me actually.”

“Dean,” you said with a nod. “Dean...”

“Winchester,” he said with a smile. “That’s your last name too.”

“It used to be Y/L/N,” you said, Dean nodding. “I remember old stuff. This must be really annoying for you.”

“Nah. I get to remind you why we fell in love all over again. What’s so bad about that?” he teased, kissing your cheek. You liked it, not sure why but then his lips were pulled away and he was holding your hand, moving you along to the back of the house. You entered a kitchen area, spotting three kids playing in a family room, two other adults talking at the counter. “Hey guys.”

“Hi sweetie,” said the woman, walking over and giving you a hug. The man did the same as you took a moment to see a few similarities between them and Dean.

“You’re his parents,” you said, Dean smiling wide. “Don and Molly?”

“John and Mary but close,” she said.

“You remembered that on your own,” said Dean.

“Your perfume sort of...reminded me of a cozy house on a rainy day, it smelled like vanilla inside I think,” you said.

“It was raining the first time I took you to my parents house,” said Dean. “I told you coming home would be good for you.”

“So what are you guys doing here?” you asked.

“We’ve just been helping out with the kids,” said your father in law, his smile falling away when you frowned. “It’s really no trouble.”

“Where are my parents?” you asked. You saw your in laws look at Dean, his gaze going to the floor. “I remember my parents.”

“I can’t keep doing this to her,” said Dean quietly , looking at his dad. “I can’t.”

“They died,” said John, Dean squeezing his eyes shut. “A while ago, honey. You were at college when they were in a car accident.”

“Oh,” you said, blinking a few times. “I didn’t know Dean back then, did I.”

“No, you didn’t,” said Dean, lifting his head. “This isn’t your normal reaction to that news.”

“How many times have you told me this?” you asked.

“About ten or so. About once a day you ask,” he said. You stared at him, that happy mask slipping slightly. “Normally you get upset. Really, really upset.”

“How did I hurt my head? Or have this trauma thing happen to me that’s making me forget?” you asked.

“I can’t answer that, sweetheart,” said Dean.

“Why not?” you asked.

“The doctors don’t one hundred percent know,” he said.

“You’re saying I went insane or something? Why not lock me up then?” you said, not sure where your anger was coming from. Dean scowled at you, grabbing your hand and asking for a moment of privacy. He pulled you upstairs and to a bedroom, sitting you down before he knelt in front of you.

“All we know that happened was it was a Friday morning. You were perfectly fine when I buckled up the kids for daycare and to drop them off at school and stop at the winery quick. We have one of those by the way. You were alone for a few hours, taking some time to relax, do a few things around here. When I got homelater on, you were sitting in the middle of the floor just completely out of it. After you woke up at the hospital, you couldn’t remember anything. We were doing a few renovations on the house so the security system was down for a few weeks and that’s around when all of this happened. You just locked up on us, honey. You wouldn’t tell us what happened and then we realized just how bad your head got hurt. Nothing was stolen and the police are still working on it but we just don’t know what happened to you,” he said.

“Did I give the bruises on my arms to myself? Could I have just fallen down and hit my head?” you asked, holding them up.

“It’s possible but I don’t believe that, not with how scared my badass wife was,” he said. “I think someone came here and hurt you.”

“You think someone hurt me?” you asked. “Do you think it was Ricky?”

“Ricky?" asked Dean. “Your college boyfriend? I know you guys had a bad breakup but didn’t he turn out to be like a pediatrician?”

“Well my brain is weird right now and to be honest, you’re a stranger to me,” you said. “I don’t even remember you. I don’t remember any of these people in this house.”

“Do you want them to leave? I can ask my parents to take the kids,” he said, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. You grabbed his wrist and brought his palm to your cheek, moving his fingers.

“Do that again,” you said.

“Why? Remember something?” asked Dean, brushing his thumb over your cheekbone.

“No. It makes me feel okay even though I am definitely not,” you said.

“The stuff I told you didn’t scare you?” he asked.

“It scared me. But everything is scary right now. I remember from school that if your memory doesn’t come back soon after an accident, it probably won’t, not all the way,” you said. Dean looked down at his feet, shoulders sagging. “It’s okay.”

“I have more scary news if you think you can handle it,” he said.

“Like I said, it can’t get much worse,” you said.

“What is the absolutely last thing you remember? Not me or a hospital but before that,” he said.

“I was in a car with my parents,” you said.

“That was the accident with your family, this memory thing...it’s mental right now. It’s not physical. The memories are there but your brain sort of froze up, using that other traumatic event as a stopping point,” he said.

“So I’m the one preventing me from remembering?” you asked.

“Yeah but it’s not that simple. You had a trauma and no one knows exactly what happened. Until you can process it, you’re in a bit of limbo for now,” he said.

“So I’m nuts,” you said, an angry glare crossing his face. He sat back on his heels and put his hands on your legs, lifting his head up.

“Please stop saying that. You’re hurt, not nuts,” he said.

“I have brain trauma that’s all likely mental from what you said. I think I’m nuts,” you said.

“I was the one that told you to take the morning off, enjoy yourself. I’m the reason you were here alone,” he said.

“It’s not your fault I went full on Cuckoo's Nest,” you said.

“You were attacked. You are not crazy and I’m sick of having this argument,” he said.

“How many times have we…” you said.

“This is the fourth time. Normally you don’t get this far in the conversation before you ask to be left alone. The whole you not remembering these conversations is the reason they say it was mental trauma,” he said.

“What’d you do different this time?” you asked. “I’m not going to ask you to leave me alone.”

“I don’t know. You’re home for the first time, some place familiar. Maybe you feel safer here, maybe less, maybe it’s because it’s Thursday. I don’t have a clue, Y/N,” he said.

“I don’t want to argue with you,” you said.

“Me either,” he said.

“Tell me about you, or us, or our family,” you said.

“You want to know how we met?” he asked.

“Yeah. I think I’d like that.”

“Hey, kiddo,” said your father in law a few hours later. The kids were in bed and most everyone was asleep apart from the two of you and Dean who was off somewhere else in the big house. “How you holding up?”

“Okay,” you said, flipping through a wedding album, trying to put names to faces. “Thank you for watching the kids.”

“It’s not a problem,” he said. He was quiet as you flipped through the rest of the book. You looked happy and completely in love with the man in the photos. You wished you could remember it though. “You got that look on your face.”

“Hm?” you asked.

“You’re thinking hard about something,” he said.

“I’m trying to figure out my life,” you said.

“I’m a hell of a lot older than you and I haven’t figured it out yet,” he said.

“It’s been almost two weeks Dean said. I barely remember any of that,” you said.

“S’alright,” he said. You stared at him, getting a smile in return. “Do you want to know the first time he introduced you to us?”

“Sure. Earlier he said it was raining, right?” you asked.

“I think so. It was a few weeks before thanksgiving. He wanted to make sure you got to meet us first before the whole family,” he said. “You weren’t the first girl he ever brought home but it was different than the few before. He liked those girls but they were too different to ever work. You were quiet but friendly, kept trying to help out in the kitchen or with dishes. More than a bit nervous. You two kept looking at each other, like you were asking him if you were acting okay.”

“That’s normal,” you said.

“Yeah. It was still a little awkward and then I asked a question about your family or something like that and Dean got very defensive. I remembered he’d asked us not to bring that up but I was trying to get you to open up. You snapped at him a little, told him it was alright even though you clearly weren’t comfortable with talking about it. We sort of left you two kids alone for a minute before he walked into the kitchen. I was expecting an apology but he was still angry and wanted to understand why I’d done it. We’d never seen him like that before and realized it’d really upset him. He was afraid that you wouldn’t like us because of it and he went off on a tail spin when I caught you standing in the doorway and you just looked at me with this smile like you knew he’d calm down in a minute,” he said.

“Did he?” you asked.

“Yeah. He left after a moment to go find you and you snuck in and apologized for him. I told you not to do that and that he was an adult and could do it himself. You told us very calmly that you disagreed. I thought that was an odd thing for you to say and you just stared, with that same look on your face, thinking hard of how to say what you wanted to,” he said.

“What did I say?” you asked.

“Dean came back and sighed, apologizing and trying to get everyone past the whole thing. But you were more guarded with your answers and questions after that. You excused yourself to the bathroom and he said you two were going to get going. You’d only been over for two hours but things were going south and we know our boy. Sometimes he just shuts everything out when he’s stressed and wants to get out of the situation. We were going to let him go but you came back and saw him getting ready to leave and pulled him aside. I don’t know what you said but he was more relaxed when he came back, said he was mistaken about the time or something like that. Total bull but he was just better again. No one had ever gotten through to him before when he gets like that, no one. But you did. You kept trying to be relaxed for us and him after that and later on you tried to explain that he got protective of you, like it wasn’t obvious.

“That’s when you told me this was important to him, to you as well, but very much so to him because there was no meeting the parents for him. There was no meeting the family. He really wanted us to like each other because he wanted you to have something you’d lost and missed. And all you were concerned about was that we weren’t mad at our son because you thought that’s what was important. You wanted us all to have a good relationship because you thought he was important. It hit me that you didn’t care about getting close to anyone past a surface level. Then it hit me that despite all that, you were still trying, for him. He got close and I guessed you didn’t want to like him or fall in love with him or any of it. But you did, and you tried, because when you love someone like that, you try for them,” he said.

“I have a feeling we’re close despite our first interaction,” you said.

“By the time thanksgiving rolled around it was like you were another one of the kids. You warmed up to us real fast,” he said.

“So were you trying to say that I shouldn’t worry because I have a good husband looking out for me?” you said.

“I was simply saying how we met. Up to you to look at it like that,” he said with a smile.

“”You’re definitely that guy’s dad,” you said. He laughed and stood up from his chair.

“Yes, I am and alright eavesdropper, I’m heading to bed. You should probably get this one in one soon too,” he said, glancing at a doorway, Dean rounding it with crossed arms.

“How do you always know?” he asked.

“You’re my kid, that’s how,” he said, ruffling Dean’s head as he went past. “Goodnight.”

“Night,” you said. Dean gave you a soft smile. “Tired?”

“Everyone had a long day. We should get some sleep,” he said.

You followed him upstairs, Dean showing you your closet to change in, banging a few things around in the bathroom before you walked out and caught him in a tee and boxers.

“I turned up the thermostat since you like it warm,” he said. “I’ll be down the hall if you need me.”

“We don’t sleep in the same room?” you asked. He gave a quiet laugh before offering a smile.

“I’m not making you sleep next to me when you don’t know me,” he said. “We got a comfy couch I can crash on.”

“Thanks,” you said. “For trying to not scare me.”

“Of course, honey,” he said.

“But the point of me coming home was to get me back in my routine and I think we should sleep in the same bed,” you said.

“If that’s what you want. Feel free to kick me out anytime though,” he said. You waited by the end of the bed, Dean next to you. Both nightstands were fairly empty at the moment and you couldn’t tell from that who had what side. He seemed to stare at you, waiting to see if you’d remember.

“I sleep left but...I think you like the left too so you get that side and…I got something for it,” you said.

“You got to pick out our dog at the shelter,” he said. “You remembered that just now.”

“It was more a gut feeling than memory,” you said.

“It was still something,” he said. You shrugged and crawled into bed, Dean sliding under the covers after a moment but keeping his space in the king sized thing. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” you said, turning onto your side.

“Love you,” he said quietly, more for himself than you. You looked over your shoulder, his back to you. You reached a hand out and rested it on top of his head, slowly moving your fingers through the strands. His muscles relaxed, a large breath leaving him.

“I don’t know you but I’m glad I have you to help me,” you said.

“S’been a long two weeks,” he said quietly. “I’m scared you’ll wake up tomorrow and have forgotten again.”

“I’m not,” you said.

“Why?” he asked.

“Just got a good feeling I won’t,” you said. He rolled over onto his back, smiling softly at you. “I love you.”

“You don’t have to say it, Y/N,” he said.

“Just because I can’t remember that I do doesn’t mean it’s not true,” you said.

“Alright, you win this one, Winchester,” he said. “Night.”

“Night, Dean.”

“Morning,” said Dean, walking out of the bathroom in a t shirt and pair of comfy looking sweats. “I figured a lazy day at home would be best to ease into things.”

“Yeah. I think so too, Dean,” you said, scratching your head with a sleepy smile. “I remember yesterday so no need to freak out on me.”

“I will let you get ready for the day then,” he said, watching you move out of bed and back to the closet, pulling out some clothes after a few helpful nods to the right drawers to go to. He let you take care of yourself mostly, lingering in the bedroom only if you truly couldn’t find something you wanted before he eventually left.

After a hot shower, you changed and headed down the stairs, a small child nearly tripping you as she ran past in the kitchen.

“Holly! No running!” said Dean, the little girl immediately freezing. “We got to be careful of mom, remember?”

“Sorry,” she said, turning around and walking over to you. She seemed hesitant but you bent down and gave her a hug, a smile instantly across her face. “I made my bed and helped daddy make the pancake batter.”

“You did? You’re such a big girl helping out like that,” you said, picking her up and carrying her over to the counter, quickly finding her far heavier than you were expecting. She stared at you for a moment before looking at her father.

“Daddy says you can’t remember us because your head got hurt,” she said.

“That’s right,” you said, taking a seat next to her, Dean watching the pair of you from the other side of the island where he worked. “I know I love you very much though.”

“But you’re gonna remember, right?” she asked. “You’ll get better?”

“Holly,” said Dean quietly. “We talked about this. Multiple times.”

“But-”

“Holly. I need you to be a big girl for me, okay? For me and mom,” he said. “Mommy’s going to try to remember but if she doesn’t, that’s okay too.”

“Okay,” she said, looking at her placemat. “Can I have orange juice?”

“Sure,” you said, getting out of your seat, pausing when you couldn’t find a fridge.

“Right here, hun,” said Dean, slapping a cabinet. You pulled on the handle and realized it was a double door fridge with a freezer on bottom.

“Are we rich?” you asked, Dean smirking as you found the orange juice. “What do you do for a living? What do I do for a living?”

“Well at the moment, you’re a stay at home mom and you run the winery with me and my brother,” said Dean.

“We must make like super awesome wine,” you said, looking at the cabinets, Dean nodding towards one and you found glasses inside.

“Daddy plays pretend on TV,” said Holly.

“An actor?” you said, shaking your head. “You are so not an actor.”

“I so am an actor,” he teased, sliding a few pancakes onto a few plates. “You little missy, wrote for that TV show until we had the second round of kids and it was too much to juggle everything. You occasionally do some editing now that the winery is going good but mainly keeping care of the rugrats is your main job.”

“Speaking of which, I have other children I...I don’t remember them,” you said quietly.

“Grandpa and Grandma took the twins to swimmies,” said Holly, squeezing a big puddle of syrup on her pancakes.

“Oh. Do you know how to swim?” you asked, Holly nodding.

“Harper and the little dude are young but even with the pool and the fence around it, we figured better safe than sorry,” said Dean.

“Little dude,” you said, knowing he was trying to get you to remember. “We have three kids?”

“Yup,” said Dean, motioning for you to sit down, Holly already chowing down on her first piece as you sat next to her. You grabbed your fork and knife, taking a few deep breaths. “His name is Axel.”

“I don’t remember anything,” you said, gripping the utensils tight until Dean rested a hand on your thigh. “I don’t remember.”

“Mom,” said Holly, poking your shoulder. You looked away from Dean, a curious little face looking up at you. “S’okay. I still love you.”

“You are the sweetest thing I’ve ever met,” you said, giving her a hug, Dean rubbing his hand up and down your back as you ate breakfast together. Holly was very well behaved and you had a feeling she was used to helping out in the kitchen, working with Dean and showing you where things went as you picked up.

“Can I go play in my room?” she asked, Dean humming before she took off.

“Wow. She’s mature for her age,” you said.

“Sometimes,” said Dean with a knowing smile, just in time for the door from the garage to open. You recognized John and Mary, walking in with two small kids. The kids both stared at you for a moment before they ran over and hugged your legs, both trying to pepper you with kisses. “Mommy’s home, guys.”

“Mommy, I miss you,” said the girl, Harper. The boy echoed a similar sentiment, his vocabulary not quite there yet but he was hugging you so tight it may have rivaled his father’s.

“Mommy,” said Axel, wrapping his arms around your neck, attempting to climb on top of you.

“I missed you guys too,” you said, picking them both up and giving them each a kiss. “How was swim class?”

Axel went off on a tangent, most of which you didn’t understand but Harper interpreted what he was saying, something about a big splash and soon Dean was over, scooping Harper out of your arms.

“Alright. I think you two are due for a bath to get that stinky chlorine off you and we’ll give grandma and grandpa some time to themselves for a change,” said Dean.

“It’s the first full day back, Dean,” said Mary, giving you a smile.

“I know and you’re not on babysitting duty today. Go hang out at home. If I need you, I’ll call,” he said.

“Call anyways,” said John. “We’ll see you guys real soon.”

“Later,” said Dean as they headed out, carrying Harper over to the stairs. You followed with Axel, same green eyes as Dean, your son staring happily at you.

“I love you, mommy,” he said.

“I love you too,” you said, kissing his cheek, pausing at the top of the stairs. Dean turned around, looking at you.

“Y/N? You alright?” he asked.

“I got one of those feelings again,” you said, walking again.

“What kind of feelings?” he asked.

“I love these kids so freaking much,” you said, Dean laughing.

“Well that’s good,” he teased, stopping outside of a door, pushing it open. You followed him inside to a bathroom, playful colored towels and kids shampoos in the tub area. “This is the bathroom for the kids. Holly has a bathroom in her own room but we decided to wait until she’s a little older to have her own.”

“Alright,” you said, Dean setting Harper down on the floor. He went over to the tub and put in a stopper, starting to fill it up as he tugged off her clothes. You mimicked what he was doing with Axel, Dean laughing when you had trouble getting his shorts off.

“To think I’m the one that’s always been awful at this,” he said, helping you get them off. He peeled off Harper’s diaper, tossing it in the trash, doing the same with Axel’s. He tested the water with his hand to make sure it wasn’t too hot before he lifted him up and set him in the water, up to his little waist, doing the same with Harper. He put a few little rubber toys in the water to distract them. “Okay, mom. Normally we wash hair first then soap up.”

He reached around you and grabbed some kid friendly shampoo, squirting some in your hands. He did the same and worked on Harper’s hair, nodding for you to clean up Axel. You were paranoid about getting it in his eyes with how much he turned his head around, Dean sighing and grabbing your wrists, moving them a little lower. He shook off his hands in the water and grabbed a pair of little bowls, handing one to you.

“Just watch me, Y/N. It’s super easy,” he said. He filled it with water and put his hand on Harper’s forehead, he head tilting back with a little giggle as he gently poured the water out. You started to do the same with Axel, Dean smiling when you kept pausing to make sure it wouldn’t splash all over his face. “We’ve both gotten soap in their eyes before. It’s not the end of the world if it happens.”

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” you said, Dean taking the bowl away after a moment, squirting some soap in your hands.

“Neither one of us has known what we were doing from the second we found out you were pregnant with Holly. You get used to it,” he said, rubbing some of the soap on Harper’s chest, playing with one of her boats with her for a moment. You again tried to do the same with Axel, big wide eyes staring at you. “He’s a goof and knows he’s gonna get bubbles all over him so prepare for him to turn into a giggling mess.”

You barely had started to soap him up before you heard the first laugh, Harper joining in as you cleaned him, Dean wearing a big smile as their giggles got louder and louder. You hadn’t realized you were laughing with them until Dean was moving the stopper out of the way and plucking them both out of the tub and wrapping them up in big towels.

“They are so cute,” you said, Dean smiling while he ran a towel through their hair.

“They get it from you,” he said, the two of you working to dry them off before Dean slipped out of the room, returning with two sets of clothes. He grabbed something from under the sink, handing one to you. A diaper.

“I don’t-”

“I know,” he said softly. “Putting it on is real easy and once somebody makes a mess, I’ll show you how to clean it up too. Both these guys are pretty well behaved in that department.”

Dean took extra time to show you how it was done, letting you do Axel with his help, both of you getting them into some clothes.

“Okay, dudes. You’ve had a long morning so time for a little nap,” said Dean, picking them both up, getting a round of giggles as he carried them across the hall and into their shared bedroom. He set them each down in their cribs and gave them both a blanket and stuffed animal, the pair of them passed out before he could leave the room. “We’ll wake ‘em up in about twenty minutes. They need naps after swim days or else they get very cranky by the time lunch rolls around.”

“I need a parenting guidebook,” you said. “Or a drink.”

“We got both but probably not a good idea just yet,” he teased, heading back down stairs with you, plopping down on the couch. You sat next to him, Dean smiling at you. “You look tired, sweetheart.”

“My head feels like it’s going a thousand miles an hour straight into a brick wall. I keep trying to remember things, like giving baths, but I just can’t,” you said.

“You’ll get there,” he said.

“Will I though?” you asked.

“If you don’t, we’ll still be here for you,” said Dean, smiling softly at you.

“What do I normally do when I’m not feeling great?” you asked.

“Cuddles. A blanket,” he said. You nodded and grabbed one from a nearby basket, sitting down closer to him, leaning your head on his shoulder.

“Is this okay?” you asked.

“Whatever you’re comfortable with,” he said, moving his arm around the back of your shoulders. “Is that-”

“It’s okay,” you said, glancing up at him. “If it’s ever not, I’ll let you know but you don’t have to ask all the time, Dean.”

“Alright,” he said.

“This is something we normally do, right?” you asked.

“Sit and cuddle each other? Yeah. Even your manly husband likes a good cuddle,” he said, a laugh in his words.

“Oh,” you said.

“Oh, what?” he asked.

“You seem very sweet is all, not like you’re a tough tough guy. I mean you seem tough but not mean. I’m sorry that doesn’t-“

“It’s okay,” he said. “You just have a well rounded husband.”

“That sounds nice,” you said.

“It is. It’s a bit of a lie,” he said, smiling sadly at you. “I get wrapped up in my own head sometimes. Take this whole situation for instance. Normally, you’d be the one telling me it wasn’t my fault and a whole bunch of other stuff to help me realize that. But you can’t do those things right now, which is totally okay, but I have to try and be that person on my own and it’s fucking hard.”

“Well I don’t blame you,” you said.

“You don’t know what happened,” he said.

“No but I don’t blame you,” you said.

“I don’t think you’re in the position to really think straight,” he said.

“Well I don’t think you’re in the position to tell me how I feel,” you said, sitting up to get a better look at him. “I look at you and I worry and I do not understand why. All I can guess is that it comes from a place of love. Maybe I don’t remember how to tell if you’re feeling crappy or whatever but a part of me does and it needs you to be better too. I know this is hard and you basically wound up with another kid to watch and make sure I’m okay but we’ll get through this.”

“But what if-“ he said before you put a finger to his lips.

“Relax,” you said, Dean slumping back into his seat.

“I’m supposed to take care of you. Not the other way around,” he said.

“I’m guessing that we normally take care of each other and trying to get me normal again means we act normal which means I take care of you too,” you said, leaning back against his shoulder. “I have the feeling you haven’t let anyone take care of you the past few weeks.”

“Even when you go all beautiful mind, you still know the right thing to say,” he said, brushing his finger over your cheek.

“Did you insult me while we’re having a moment?” you deadpanned.

“Now you sound just like you,” he teased, kissing the tip of your nose. You got a headache and sat back into the cushions, wiping at your nose. “Y/N? You okay?”

“My nose,” you said, tapping the end of it. “It was wet. I remember it was wet!”

“That...okay,” he said, forcing a smile. “I suppose that’s...helpful.”

“Why would my nose have been wet?” you asked. He cupped your cheek and smiled, tucking your hair behind your ear. “What?”

“You take a shower every morning. You’re probably just remembering that, honey,” he said.

“Oh,” you said. He kissed your cheek and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his chest but you were pretty sure it was more for him than you. “Dean, I’m alright.”

“Someone hurt you,” he said. “And I have no idea who did it. I couldn’t protect you the first time around and I have no idea if I can do it if this person comes back.”

“But you’re really big and strong,” you said. “And who knows? Maybe I fell and am just nuts or something.”

“Y/N. I know being nice to yourself isn’t always easy but can you please stop calling yourself nuts. Something traumatizing happened that caused this. You aren’t nuts. You got scared because something horrible happened, I’m sure of it. Please don’t say that again. I hate it,” he said. You turned your head and gave him a small nod. “Thank you.”

“You need to let someone take care of you too though, got it? I can’t remember, it doesn’t mean I’m useless,” you said.

“Okay,” he said softly. You reached a hand up to his hair and rubbed his head, Dean nuzzling into the touch. “We got a doctor’s appointment to get you to soon.”

“That sounds not fun,” you said. He chuckled as you gave him a head massage, resting it on your shoulder for a moment.

You still didn’t really know him or who he was. But you could feel something towards him, very much like the reaction you had with the kids.

“Can I kiss you?” you asked. He nodded and you leaned over, pressing your lips to his. Dean didn’t move and you shifted back after a moment. You tilted your head at him, doing it again once more before you sat back in your seat. “That is so weird.”

“What is?” he asked.

“I am in love with you. Unconditionally. I barely know a thing about you but I know that much,” you said.

“Even if it never comes back, we got this, alright?” he said.

“Yeah. Can you show me around the house some?” you asked. He smiled and grabbed your hand.

“I’d love to, honey.”

“I don’t like it here,” you mumbled, kicking your legs against the bed in the doctor’s office. Dean hummed from the chair in the room, giving you a smile when he glanced away from his phone. “I want to go home.”

“The doctor just has to give us the test results and then we’ll go. Want to grab some food on the way home?” he asked.

“Okay. I still don’t like it here,” you said, rubbing your bare arm.

��I don’t like it here either,” he said, leaning back in his seat. The door opened and he stood up, the doctor giving him a friendly smile.

“Dean, Y/N. Sorry about the wait,” he said, holding up a file. “So...we did a blood test when you first got in. Dean, if you wouldn’t mind waiting outside a moment?”

“Why,” he asked.

“Because I asked. It’ll only be a moment,” he said. Dean glanced at you but you nodded and he left, the doctor shutting the door. “Y/N, we saw something a little odd in the blood work.”

“Odd?” you asked.

“Traces of a drug. Most people know it by its street name. Roofies,” he said.

“Someone gave me roofies?” you said.

“Well, no but it’s very similar. It didn’t show up on any tests before because we weren’t looking for it,” he said.

“Why’d you decide to look for it?” you asked.

“Because something seems off about this whole situation which is why I asked Dean to leave the room,” he said.

“You think my husband drugged me?”

“I don’t know who did what. All I can say for certain is that there is a four hour time period in which you could have been drugged. It would explain the memory loss of that event. The rest...it’s likely a combination of the drugs and self-regression,” he said.

“So I’ll never remember?”

“I’m not sure you’ll ever remember the event. But everything before that, I think you can. I think whatever happened you didn’t want to deal with it so you shut it all away. Your physical injuries weren’t life threatening so that leads me to believe it was environmental, something that was said or threatened. I think, because of the reaction you had, it had to have been done by someone close to you, someone you trust,” he said. “Who that is, you and the police have to figure out but that’s my medical opinion on what happened.”

“Dean wouldn’t hurt me,” you said.

“Y/N.”

“He wouldn’t,” you said. “Now let him back in.”

“I know the cops think I did it,” he said, rubbing his temple at a red light. “Why wouldn’t they suspect me? I make sense on paper.”

“I don’t think you did it,” you said.

“Thanks,” he laughed, hitting the gas when it turned green. “No one is really going to listen to you at the moment though, sweetheart.”

“Well we’ll figure it out then,” you said.

“How do you trust me so easily?”

“Because I still feel good and safe with you. If you hurt me, I don’t think that’d be the case,” you said.

“You might not remember if I’d hurt you though,” he said.

“Do you want me to believe it was you or something?” you asked.

“No. But I don’t want you to be so trusting of people,” he said. You stared at him as he drove, Dean resting his head in his hand. “What do you want to eat, honey?”

“You pick what you want,” you said.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly, sighing as he made a left towards a to go place. He parked and moved to get out of the car but you grabbed his hand, Dean staring back at you.

“I won’t be so trusting of people. But I’m going to trust you, okay?” you said.

“Okay,” he said. “Okay.”

“Hey, Dean,” you said, finding him in the home office after lunch, going over some bills from the look of it. “How come I haven’t met Sam? Well...seen Sam?”

“He’s kind of doing both your jobs right now and hospitals make him...ah, Jess. I forgot. You wouldn’t know. So our sister-in-law, Jess, she almost died in a fire once. It was a really bad night for Sam. When everything went down with you, he volunteered to deal with the kids and stuff so he wouldn’t have to go back. It sounds shitty but the guy is freaking terrified of hospitals. We can invite those guys over for dinner if you want,” said Dean.

“I was just…” you trailed off, Dean lifting his head.

“You think it was Sammy,” he said.

“I didn’t say-“

“I’ve been thinking it too unfortunately,” sighed Dean. He ran his hands over his face and you shut the office door, taking a seat on the comfy chair. “He’s been reluctant to see you and I haven’t spoken to Jess in weeks.”

“Do you think something happened to her?” you asked.

“Jess? No. Sammy would kill for her. He’d never…” said Dean. “Oh shit. I think I know what’s going on.”

“What’s going on?”

“Sam,” said Dean at one end of the conference table in the police station. “I’m gonna kill you.”

“Dean,” said a police officer, holding up a hand. “Let’s try to be calm.”

“He tried to kidnap my wife!” said Dean.

“But I didn’t,” said Sam. “I’m risking Jessica’s life just saying this. I am lucky she’s even still alive.”

“Oh so it’s my fault you nearly killed my wife?”

“I was never gonna kill her! Even drugged up...” said Sam. “Then I just...came to my senses and left.”

“Well thanks for traumatizing her!” growled Dean.

“Guys! Both of you just shut up and let the cop talk,” you said.

“Thank you,” said the officer. “Now, Sam. You were saying after you decided not to follow through on abducting Y/N, you returned home?”

“Yes. I thought she was gonna be okay and left. Then I got a call from Dean asking to pick up the kids later from school because Y/N was having a hard time remembering. He said someone must have come in and attacked her and I am so sorry, Y/N.”

“You don’t talk to her,” said Dean.

“I think I can decide who does and doesn’t talk to me, Dean,” you said. “Keep going.”

“He-“

“Sam,” you said, cutting Dean off. “Talk.”

“So...I didn’t do what I was supposed to obviously but I was offered another chance to get Y/N and bring her to this person. Trade for Jess,” he said. “I’ve been buying a little time and said Y/N got hurt and it would be impossible to get her and...I was gonna say something. I just…” said Sam, closing his eyes. “I got scared.”

“I can’t…” said Dean standing up and grabbing your hand. You shook out of it, Dean staring at you. “I’m not leaving you in a room alone with him.”

“First off, there’s a cop literally right there. Second, if he wanted me, I’d be gone. You need to go cool off. Go. Now,” you said. Dean shook his head and walked out, the officer staring at you. “What?”

“Your brother-in-law did admit to trying to-”

“I’m not pressing any charges against him,” you said, Sam turning his head towards you. “Shocking, I know. But Dean’s pissed enough for the both of us right now and I know...you could have hurt me if you wanted to. But you didn’t and Jess still needs help so right now, let’s just work on that, alright?”

“Thank you,” said Sam, giving you a half smile.

“Alright,” said the officer with a deep breath. “Do you have any idea who this person is that took your wife?”

“I think it’s a woman to be honest,” said Sam.

“Why would you say that?”

“When she let me talk to Jess she was using one of those voice things to make her voice deeper but she moved it away to put Jess on and she told Jess to talk and it was definitely a chick,” said Sam.

“You’re saying a woman took Jessica and is the one that wanted Y/N?” he said.

“Wait, my husband is kind of famous, isn’t he? TV famous but still…” you said, the officer nodding his head.

“Let’s go see if the other Mr. Winchester is calm enough to join the discussion again.”

“Bonnie Tyler,” said the lead detective on the case, slapping down a file a few hours later. “Your stalker from six years ago.”

“She wasn’t a stalker,” said Dean. “Just...an overzealous fan.”

“Bonnie Tyler put in her notice at work shortly before Jessica disappeared. She has also started, according to her credit card statements, frequenting the winery. Are we staring to get the picture?” asked the detective.

“But if she took Jess, why wouldn’t she ask for Dean instead? Isn’t that who she wants?” asked Sam.

“Oh I’m sure of it. But Jess most likely hasn’t seen her face if Bonnie’s willing to risk running into her again,” said the detective.

“Running into her where?” said Dean.

“Most likely the winery where I suspect her plan was to introduce herself to the newly single Dean Winchester,” he said. “If Y/N were to go missing that is.”

“What,” said Dean.

“She targeted the girls so that she could, likely, attempt to swoop in and become romantically involved. It’s probably not good news for whatever she had planned for Y/N,” he said.

“Oh. Awesome,” you said.

“Jess was taken because of you,” said Sam, cocking his head at Dean.

“You think I don’t know that?” said Dean, putting a hand on his head. “Can’t you guys just go to this psycho's house and arrest her?”

“We risk a chance of losing Jessica if we do that,” said the detective. Sam dropped his head, Dean glancing across the table at his brother.

“I am sorry, Sam. I am. It doesn’t excuse what you did,” said Dean.

“Well, I’m gonna have to live a dead wife most likely so thanks for adding onto the already giant pile of shit I feel like,” said Sam.

“I said it doesn’t excuse it, dumbass. I didn’t say I don’t forgive you,” said Dean. Sam lifted his head up, Dean giving him a nod. “I’ve been plenty scared the past few weeks too so I get that helpless feeling. I do. But we gotta be on the same team.”

“I’ll do whatever they want me to,” said Sam.

“Me too,” you said, both of them turning to you. “I can’t remember but not helpless, remember?”

“There’s a ploy here,” said the detective, looking at you and then Sam. “But I want to see that Y/N’s mentally fit before we even consider it.”

“Y/N, you don’t have to do this,” said Dean, tucking your hair behind your ear a few hours later.

“She’s our family...and Sam made a mistake, a mistake you very easily could have made if you were in his place,” you said.

“I know. I don’t...if I’m being honest with myself, I’d have considered it. It’s impossible not to,” he said.

“So you don’t hate Sam?” you asked.

“No. He didn’t know that would happen with you. No one did,” he said.

“I’m sort of hoping I get another kind of shock and it all comes back,” you said.

“Well, it’s not everyday you get to play victim in a police operation,” he said, rubbing up and down your arms. “If things go bad and this bitch gets near you, you put her down. I ain’t raising three kids by myself.”

“I’ll be okay, Dean,” you said.

“Be careful,” he said, kissing your temple as Sam walked over. “If worse comes to worse-”

“I got her back,” said Sam. “Jess is gonna kick my ass for everything so you’ll have to get in line behind her.”

“If worse comes to worse, both of you don’t be idiots, alright?” said Dean. You nodded and Sam gave Dean a small one.

“You two ready to go?” asked the detective as he came over.

“As we’ll ever be.”

You weren’t entirely surprised when things stopped following the plan and you and Sam were left to wing it. Jess looked relatively okay and aside from a look at Sam like she was pissed, the actual swap went okay.

The you getting in a car part with Bonnie definitely wasn’t happening though.

“But I don’t understand,” you said, trying to play the idiot. “I don’t even know these people!”

“Listen, I know you’re even more of an idiot now than you were then but you got to go,” said Bonnie.

“I don’t even know who those guys are! I don’t remember anything!” you said. She shoved you against the car door, cocking her head. “Please. I don’t care what your problem with these people is, just let me go.”

“I can’t,” she said.

“If I did something to you, I’m sorry. I don’t remember,” you said.

“It’s not personal, alright? You’re just in the way,” she said.

“Tell me how to get out of it and I’ll move,” you said.

“Sorry. You’re too recognizable and they won’t stop looking until you’re gone,” she said, pulling out a knife. “Get in the car, Y/N.”

“Can I at least-“ you said before you kicked out with your leg and proceeded to head butt her. She groaned and you kicked out again, slipping out of the loose zip ties finally.

She clocked you in the face and your head spun but you managed to hit the knife out of her hands.

“A little help over here!” you shouted, blocking a hit, surprised at yourself for doing so. She tried to go low but you stopped that one too. “Guess who’s got muscle memory back.”

“Guess who can shut up,” she said, pulling out a second knife from her back pocket. You glanced your eyes just over her shoulder, Bonnie spinning around long enough for you to get the drop on her.

“Bonnie, just stop,” you said, kicking away the knives. She took the opportunity to push back and slam you against the car, breaking free and shoving you again, your head hitting the back door.

You woke up with a headache but you felt intact. Dean was yawning as he watched TV, a stuffed animal shoved next to you.

“Hey,” you said, Dean turning towards you, immediately waking up some as he moved his chair around. “Dean Winchester, born January 24th, grew up in Lawrence, Kansas and who hid hiccups at our wedding.”

“I’m glad to know you’re still going to tease the shit out of me over that,” he said, wrapping his arms around you. “You okay?”

“Yeah. I kinda remember being halfway decent in that fight earlier,” you said.

“Well you are pretty good, if you could have remembered the moves,” he said.

“Should have got her in the stomach,” you said, closing your eyes. “I’ll take the fact I’m not dead as a good sign?”

“Yeah. They grabbed her. Jess is okay, a few doors down actually. She nearly strangled Sam and then strangled me and let’s say Bonnie should be living in fear from Jess’ wrath,” laughed Dean.

“How’s Sam?” you asked.

“Oh, wallowing in self-guilt when he’s not doting on Jess. You know, typical, Sammy behavior,” he said with a smirk.

“I can remember more of what happened, with Sam,” you said.

“Sammy not giving us the full picture?” asked Dean.

“He didn’t scare me. Not really. In fact, it was no one’s fault at all,” you said. “Remember what I said about a wet nose?”

“Yeah?” asked Dean.

“I was in the bathroom, getting ready for the day and Sam came over. We had coffee for a minute which is probably when he drugged me but then he had this really guilty look on his face. He kept trying to get me not to drink it too, steal it back. So he was over and while we were fighting over the coffee, I spilled some. So I went and put on a new shirt and tossed the other one in the laundry basket. That’s when I saw in the bathroom, the floor was all wet. The sink was leaking again. I called in Sam and he was trying to help fix it and he did a good job. I felt a little funny so I got off balance, slipped in the water and bam, hit my head against the tile floor. Sam tried to catch me. That’s why I had bruises on my arms. He left to get help and in my dumbass state, must have wandered into the bedroom and by then, you were getting home and I think Sam just freaked and left since you were there.”

“You slipped in some water,” said Dean.

“Yup,” you said.

“Why would Sammy say…” said Dean. “Cause the little idiot thinks it was his fault anyways. If it’s anyone’s fault-“

“It’s Bonnie’s. Not anyone else’s,” you said. “I’ll talk to Sam and remind him of what really happened.”

“I feel kind of bad about plotting his murder for like five minutes back at the police station now,” he said.

“I appreciate the thought, De,” you said, pulling the stuffed dog from your side. “Was Axel here?”

“No. He and Harper both wanted mommy to have their favorite toys to get better,” he said. You glanced at the bag on a table across the room. “Yes, Harper’s creepy ass doll is in there. I didn’t want to scar you further.”

“You’re a good husband,” you said, sinking back into the bed. “It is so weird to be able to remember everything again.”

“It’s so nice to have you back again,” he said, sitting up on the edge of the bed, pulling you to lean against him. “Although I have a feeling you would have fell for me all over again if we had to go that route.”

“In your dreams, Winchester,” you teased.

“I’m so happy you’re back,” he said.

“So am I, Dean. So am I.”

_______

#supernatural #spn #dean x reader #dean winchester #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester x reader #dean #winchester #dean spn #au #actor!dean x reader

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wrienne · 3 years ago

Text

My Cheating, Amnesic Fiancé

Chapter 7: Reconnaissance

You stared at him. “You must be freaking kidding me.”

“I’m afraid not,” replied Sejin as he reluctantly sipped his cup of coffee. “I’ll help you in any way I can, but it’s mostly up to you.”

“I… I’m...”

“You’re doubtful?”

“That wouldn’t even begin to describe what I’m feeling,” you admitted and nervously scratched your arm. “I… I’ll try my best, I really will. But...”

You stopped yourself right then and there. You had merely promised Jungkook you would help him through the amnesia. It wasn’t necessary for you to get him back on top of the music industry again. But you knew he had suffered and worked and spent too much of his life to lose it all just because he was stupid and impulsive enough to drunkenly run out on the street at the wrong time. Also, you couldn’t help but feel a little bit guilty. Even though he was - or should you rather say had been - an absolute scumbag, if you would have never made him so upset, he might not be in the devastating situation he was in right now.

And he had changed. You felt it. Somehow, however little. Jeon Jungkook relied on you for the first time in your life.

You had a chance to help him. And although that was good enough morally speaking, what would be the point of all your efforts if he couldn’t perform again? The concert had clearly proven to you that Jungkook belonged up there, on stage, singing and dancing with his hyungs. Having a deadline of slightly more than three months would only mean you and Jungkook would have to work harder.

A lot harder.

“I’ll make it happen,” you said finally. “Jungkook will be able to perform in Japan by the end of May.”

You surprised yourself with how confident you sounded. Perhaps even Sejin, too, for he raised a surprised eyebrow before nodding in approval.

“I believe you can do this,” he told you. “If there’s anything I can do to help, just tell me.”

“Actually,” you began, “I need to get Jungkook some new clothes. Could you give me an address to where he lives and perhaps the numbers of his group members? Yours, too, if you don't mind.”

After exchanging numbers, you realized you could probably make a fortune selling the information to fanatic fans. Though, as Jungkook had stated yesterday, you didn’t really need any more money.

You parted ways with Sejin and found your parents’ private chauffeur, Kwon Jong-Yeol, waiting impatiently outside the entrance door to the hospital. While driving you home, he held a long lecture for you where he talked about the dangers of young women wandering around alone during the night. He didn’t even care about the emergency part, but then again, he had never been particularly fond of Jungkook.

You were done drying your hair after a much-needed shower when you decided to call your parents to tell them about your decision to break the engagement. As you stood in the hallway of your apartment, your heart pounding against your ribcage, you realized very quickly that nobody would reply. You weren’t particularly surprised, knowing your parents' habits of exercising early in the morning before work, and made a mental note to call them later in the day when they were free.

Frankly, you felt a bit relieved. You didn’t know how they would react upon hearing the news - nor did you want to know.

Before you zipped your phone into your jacket pocket, you spotted, to your great horror, that the seven numbers Sejin had given you were names you had never heard before, of course with the singular exception being him.

Jung Hoseok.

Kim Namjoon.

Kim Seokjin.

Kim Taehyung.

Min Yoongi.

Park Jimin.

Six names. You guessed Jin, the guy who had blown a kiss at Se-Eun and her friends, was Kim Seokjin, but you hadn’t even the slightest idea regarding the remaining five. You barely remembered what their stage names - since that’s what they must have introduced themselves as at the beginning of the concert - had been.

You didn’t have the chance to stress over it much, since you were getting late to school and you had forgotten to read a chapter for the day’s first presentation. You planned to read during the drive, but you were so tired you fell asleep during the usual, boring road to Korea University Business School. Yes, you were enrolled in one of the prestigious SKY universities. But as the granddaughter of one of the most prominent businessmen in the world and the alleged heiress of his company, this surprised nobody.

It hadn’t really been much of a choice for you, since you had known, ever since you were four years old, that you would one day become the owner and CEO of Phoenix Inc. Even if your parents were to have birthed a hundred children after you, none of them would have become a candidate for the post. Because your grandfather had chosen you in particular, stated your name explicitly in his will, to become his successor as soon as you had finished college. Your dad was merely a placeholder - your placeholder - until that day.

You didn’t know why, though.

Se-Eun was waiting outside the main auditorium together with the other students when she spotted you approaching. She darted toward you, greeted you happily with a hug and took you a bit off to the side, so no one could overhear.

“You have to tell me what happened,” she blurted, her brown eyes glinting with curiosity. “We only have three minutes ‘til class, so you’d best keep it snappy.”

Thinking back on the last twelve hours, it wasn’t difficult for you to deduce that you could say nothing. Not even to your best friend.

“I… I can’t really talk about it,” you said truthfully. “But I promise, it wasn’t anything sensational.”

“I thought you were going to snap someone’s neck when you returned,” she said skeptically. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you that upset. Were you embarrassed because they kicked you out? You didn’t have to let us wait for half an hour just to make it seem you had gotten backstage.”

“I was neither upset nor embarrassed,” you protested. “And if I wouldn’t have gotten backstage, I would have been only half as angry as I was yesterday.”

“I knew it!” she exclaimed triumphantly. “You are the quickest, craftiest person I know, (Y/F/N) - now spill the details! What’s there to be so on the down-low for anyways?”

“You know your dialect always spills through when you’re overexcited?” You gave her a teasing smile, pleasantly surprised with her compliment.

“Don’t try to change the subject,” she said stubbornly as she folded her arms across her chest. “Why are you so secretive about it?”

You shook your head. “I really can’t talk about it, I’m sorry.”

Se-Eun sighed, but she gave in. “Well, what did you think about the concert? Wasn’t it-- every one of them amazing? Especially Jungkook?”

When you didn’t immediately give her an annoyed eye roll, sigh or a directly opposed comment as you had the last couple of years whenever she brought up the subject of Jungkook, she whistled in surprise. “You must have really been floored,” she noted.

“Yeah,” you admitted reluctantly. You recalled Jungkook’s presence on stage and almost shivered. His hair, darkened with sweat; his large eyes, filled with an intensity you had never before witnessed; his body language, purposeful and practiced, yet fluid and wild, like liquid mercury; and his voice, soft yet steady, controlled yet gentle.

Beautiful.

But then you remembered his face when he had spotted Kim Sejin. You remembered the creeping anguish in his voice when he had spoken to you and the desperate strength of his grip when he had held your hand. He had been a whole different person. Fearful and brittle. So near his dream yet suspicious, confused and alone.

Now he trusted only you. Of course, you couldn't forget his eyes on Park Yi-Jae, either.

Se-Eun had been discussing which solo performance had been her favorite while you reminisced, when she said something that caught your attention.

“‘Taehyung’?” you repeated. “Who is he?”

“Are you serious?” exclaimed Se-Eun. “I’ve been talking about BTS for years and you only now pay attention?”

“Sorry,” you said unapologetically as you checked the time on your phone. Class would begin anytime now. “You never listen to me when I talk about my interests.”

“Oh, I don’t? I’ll remember this, (Y/N).”

“Come on, I’ll buy you lunch. Now tell me.”

“You would have gotten in so much trouble without your family’s money,” she replied while giggling. “Whenever your tongue and stubbornness get you in trouble, you have an easy way out.”

“Please, Se-Eun,” you said impatiently as you spotted movement over your friend's shoulder. “Professor Kang has already begun letting people inside.”

“Make it free lunch for the whole week.”

You gave her a sharp look but knowing the time-crunch you were in, you also nodded. “Deal.”

Se-Eun began toward the door as she spoke, signaling for you to follow. “Kim Taehyung is V’s real name,” she told you. “Do you want to know the rest of their real names as well?”

You greeted Professor Kang while passing her, then nodded again.

“Rap Monster’s real name is in fact Kim Namjoon,” said Se-Eun as she followed you on your search for two available seats next to one another. She folded a finger for each member - and name in your contact list - as she continued. “Jin’s real name is Kim Seokjin. J-hope’s real name is surprisingly not J-hope but Jung Hoseok, Park Jimin is Jimin and Min Yoongi is Suga. You probably know Jungkook’s real name.”

Suga. Min Yoongi. He was the one who hadn’t spoken even once when you first had stumbled upon the group. With slim dark eyes and a solo performance that had left you feeling physically wounded.

There was something about him.

“Jimin is the shortest one, right? With the light voice?” you asked as you found two seats and sank down into one of them.

“He’s taller than you.”

“In comparison with the whole group,” you said as you rolled your eyes at her instant defense. “And it wasn’t an attack, merely an observation.”

Se-Eun sat down next to you. “I’m just saying. Now, what’s the reason you want to know about their names? Are you becoming a fan?”

“Not really,” you said nonchalantly. “I just thought it would be good to know the names of the seven guys my best friend plans to marry by the end of her twenties.”

“Well, that will be easy. I only intend to marry one of them. Can you guess who?”

You swallowed. Hard.

“I can’t believe you’re still shameless enough to fantasize about things like that,” you said in an attempt to change the subject, immediately regretting the path your joke had taken. “Aren’t you too old to be a fangirl?”

“You’re never too old to be a fangirl,” she said defiantly. “I have a whole scenario in the back of my mind for the time we first meet. Jungkook will have spotted me in the audience and fallen in love with me just like that. I just need to be seen by him, that’s all.”

“You’re absolutely mad,” you told her as you laughed in disbelief. “Love doesn’t work like that. He doesn’t work like that.”

“Right, I forgot you and him are childhood friends and have known each other for centuries.”

You regarded her closely. “You’re actually getting irritated, aren’t you?” you asked.

When she didn’t directly reply, you almost burst out in laughter again. Fortunately, you were mindful of your surroundings: people were quieting as they trickled in slower through the door where Professor Kang still waited, her one hand rubbing the face of her wristwatch.

“I would never let a guy get between our friendship,” she said instead of directly addressing the question.

“Not even Jeon Jungkook?”

She shook her head as Professor Kang shut the door and began toward the lectern. “Not even him,” she whispered.

Se-Eun could never get hold of the knowledge that you and Jungkook had once been engaged, you realized as soon as the professor began her lecture. It would mean the end of your relationship. Even though you were tempted to talk with her about you and Jungkook and the situation overall, you couldn’t.

During the rest of the school day, you surprised yourself by almost constantly thinking about Jungkook. Which ways you could help him, what type of reintroduction would most likely help him and so on and so forth. You looked back at your and Jungkook’s time as younger, when and how he would express himself regarding music. You even listened to Se-Eun’s obsessive rambling over the group, hoping you could snatch any type of idea or information that might be of use - which didn’t prove as fruitless as you initially had predicted. For example, you never knew Rap Monster, or rather, Kim Namjoon, was the reason Jungkook had chosen BigHit when he had numerous other options. By the end of last class, you had actually gotten somewhat of a battle plan against Jungkook’s amnesia. Though you seriously doubted anything less than a miracle would be absolutely crucial for you to succeed by May 30th, you were determined.

You were in good spirits by the time Jong-Yeol dropped you off outside what Kim Sejin had told you was BTS’ apartment. The sun had already sunken beneath the upraised, jagged horizon of other apartment buildings, and your breath was escaping in white wisps. Fortunately, you had had the foresight to dress properly - unlike when you darted out to see Jungkook at the hospital - so you weren’t feeling too uncomfortable. Still, even though most of the snow had melted, Seoul was a chilly city during the winter months.

The apartment Kim Sejin had given you the address to didn’t look any different from a typical, middle-class apartment building. But then, you were used to living very affluently and had no idea if this was considered a good buy or not. Jong-Yeol had been unwilling to let you walk around all on your own, forcing you to remind him you weren’t seven years old any longer. Perhaps he had meant that the neighborhood wasn’t the best.

You were too nervous to call any of the six new contacts in your phone, so you stalled a bit by trying to find out where seven guys could live by checking the mailboxes in the entrance hall. However, none of the names stuck out as particularly “largest K-pop group in Korea”-esque, and you understood to your dismay that you would have to call one of them.

You were just about to dial Kim Seokjin - since he was the only one you had managed to fully identify on your own, he felt the least awkward to talk to - when someone called you.

#MCAF #wrienne #ao3 #bts fanfiction #bts x reader

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wayhavven · 4 years ago

Text

Love’s Philosophy

Gift fic for @mewsly as a part of @loveinwayhaven

Pairing: Adam Du Mortain x Detective Orianna Moreau

Rating: All

Word Count: 2712

Notes: Ah! I’m so nervous to post this! I really hope I did your detective justice, she seems amazing 🥺 I went for sort of mid-romance vibes... this is also the first time I’ve written Adam, or anything TWC actually, so I have been a little worried about how he comes across as well. I really hope you enjoy😅

Summary: Adam spends some time in the library.

Adam grunts as his large fingers slip over the leather bound books on the shelf. He’s tucked away right at the back of the library in the bunker, looking for absolutely nothing in particular. If each title that flicks in his peripheral is decidedly not something else, then, well, he wouldn’t notice. And he certainly doesn’t notice the mug ring on the coffee table at the end of the row. Still wet. He can say with ninety-nine point nine percent accuracy that this is a result of a sickeningly sweet, creamer-laced coffee, probably left half full and forgotten momentarily because it’s owner had been perusing the shelves for something else about the supernatural.

And then it catches him, an old—perhaps very early edition if he remembers right—edition of Pride and Prejudice. She doesn’t know it’s here, because he’s sure she would’ve said.

But when he reaches for it, his hand stops by itself. It drags across the direction toward the dark corners, moving at speed until—plod. Something leather-bound with a worn bookmark partway through. As he gently slides it out, Adam notes the gold type font on the front: a poetry anthology. Shelley, to be specific. He knows a lot of these by heart, three-hundred odd years of people raving about the rakes and romantics will do that to a guy. All the same, he’s sure to thumb carefully to the bookmarked part. The spine squeaks as it opens, a quiet yawn where Adam is waking it from a nap. A little dust flies up and is highlighted in the strips of dim lamplight from above. He looks up briefly, checking his surroundings. Not that the detective would be able to come anywhere near him without his pheromones going off. Even if he wasn’t a vampire, he’s sure he’d recognise the sound of her footfall underwater. Because he has to know to protect her properly, of course.

The page the book has squeaked open to has one poem on it: ‘Love’s Philosophy.’

Adam, not particularly taken with poetry for the most part, doesn’t know this one. Only the very famous ones when it comes to Percy Bysshe Shelley: ‘Ozymandias,’ ‘To a Skylark,’ ‘Stanzas Written in…’

Reading for enjoyment as a rule isn’t his thing. But the little he does recall never really lit anything in him. He has never felt how he was told poetry should be making him feel. Maybe he is too worn from years spent focusing on most things aside from feeling. Absentmindedly grazing his thumb over the page, feeling each grain of the pulp on his finger tips, Adam finds his eyes wandering back to the wet mug ring on the coffee table to his right. Drying now, the sheen dulling to match the light wood. It’s nice wood, light, fresh, slightly enthusiastically holding the weight of forgotten books. Adam’s a little lost in the colour. Because it echoes in his mind a similar colour that has been the focus of many an accidental daydream.

Suddenly, he’s seeing pretty light brown eyes; caramelly, iridescent when they’re in that one chair in the office where the sun has a chance to shine on them. Lighting up when she learns new things, particularly those of his world; the supernatural world. Creasing a little in the corners when she makes the odd sarcastic quip. Dilating every so often when he’s talking to her, for reasons he isn’t sure.

One of the books on the table is leather-bound in a deep red, and Adam finds himself imprinting the image of coils of long hair that exact shade into the space he stares at. Adam actively does not enjoy that his brain wanders like this. That it seems to veer off task for silly reasons.

He shakes his head. If only he had a use for sleep. He doesn’t often find himself wishing that, but these days… perhaps more often. Perhaps he wonders what he might dream of.

But he doesn’t want to lose the control of consciousness. It keeps him in check. It keeps him able to protect the detective.

And he doesn’t want to lose control full stop. Doesn’t let himself think too deeply about any of it for fears he may push himself past retrieval.

Adam finds, as he stands there almost frozen, that his mind wanders to a day not so dissimilar to this one. When he had been reading late, against his wishes, for some information Rebecca requested.

—-

With each line he reads, Adam can feel his biceps twitching to get some combat under his belt. This is more Nate’s expertise; he’d far rather be out trying to get one up on Morgan. But, alas, he has been given other responsibilities. And he always fulfills his responsibilities. He finds himself sighing each time he turns the page, increasingly frustrated that he actually seems to be learning less.

Like a saving grace, the library door creaks open and he looks up from where he stands by the window. One hand in his pocket, one under the old book. Detective Orianna Moreau enters, a candle highlighting the high points of her soft, deep brown skin, shining in the light-hued eyes which find him almost immediately. Her silhouette casts subtle grey shadows on the wall behind her as she nears him.

He’d known she was coming, of course. He always does. But it’s always a different thing actually seeing her. Like he’s never completely convinced she’s really there.

She smiles gently at him, nearing with the candle in her grip melting down itself, flickering.

“You’re up late,” she says, placing the candle down by him on a ledge. “I thought you might need a bit of light.”

Light. Like her. Her charming, friendly, easygoing nature always lights up the room. Adam reveres it sometimes. Sometimes he doesn’t.

It makes him a little nervous, actually. And he hates feeling nervous. Hates losing himself in the light when he has to focus on work and tasks.

“Thank you.”

He doesn’t say anything else, but is acutely aware as he remains standing in his spot, that the detective goes to sit on a nearby sofa. She’s supposed to be researching too, so it’s not too odd, but humans do have to sleep, after all.

“Should you not be asleep?” He turns just enough so that he can see her from the side of his face.

“I have to learn this, and want to. There are far worse ways to be spending an evening.” She smirks at him, suggestive and amused. “Come and sit with me.”

At first, Adam was going to outright point-blank say no. So he’s not completely sure why his legs carry him over to the sofa and lower him down beside her. But far enough away that there’s significant space between them. She laughs and rolls her eyes, scooting over next to him. The small amount of her body which presses up against him sends a shock of ice up his veins. She’s warm, so warm, that he feels like his ice is melting a little. It’s almost terrifying, but Adam doesn’t move. Doesn’t show outwardly how he’s feeling. Lets his thigh burn quietly as though he’s already extinguished the flames.

The book in his hand drops to his lap, his other hand twitching on his thigh. She gives him that smile again and his heart almost stops. Settling back into the cushions, Orianna picks up the book from his hands and starts to dig into it.

“I was reading that.”

“I know, but you weren’t enjoying it.”

That she seems to know this about him, though, isn’t lost on Adam. He believes himself to be stoic and mysterious perhaps, but maybe Orianna can see past that. Through it. The way Nate always does.

She holds the book in her left hand, her right sitting on her thigh somewhat restlessly. Just inches from his own. Ensuring that she’s pouring all of her attention into the book, which she seems to be, Adam drops his eyes subtly to her hand. Unsure why, but seemingly doing things of his own accord, Adam’s impulse is to make contact with her. His pinky falters, reaching out a little by itself, quivering in a way he isn’t used to. A way he isn’t sure he likes. Nonetheless, he uses its movement to bolster the moving of the rest of his hand. Slowly, millimetre by millimetre, Adam lets his hand move away from his body. Slip across to the detective’s. He places his down on top of hers gently, encompassing it, letting his fingers and thumb curl around its shape. He doesn’t dare look at her, but he can’t miss in his peripheral the smug beaming grin which takes over her expression.

They sit like that a long while, Adam still, holding her hand. He should be frustrated that he’s not getting anything productive done, but he can’t be. Something about her hand in his means he cannot be anything other than content and a touch conflicted. The detective’s expression never falters as she reads, doesn’t worry when she has a hard time turning the page with the use of only one hand. Seems quite amused by it, actually. Adam chuckles himself a little internally, unable to stop the smile which spreads over his face. With his free hand, he reaches over and turns the page for her.

“Thanks.”

“It is my pleasure.”

When the detective repositions their hands, winding hers around and up, so that their hands are completely joined, Adam can’t help but finally look at her fully. She squeezes his hand, and looks up at him too. Their eyes bore into each other, melting.

It had all been going so well until Farah bounded in like a puppy with a new toy. Quickly, rushedly, Adam pulls his hand from the detective’s.

—-

He thinks about that day a lot. Wishes he didn’t. Wishes he didn’t think about a lot of things pertaining to the detective.

As though on cue, the fine hairs on his arm stand to attention, and his ears zone in on the sound of smart shoes on the linoleum. She’s coming back.

Forcing his eyes back down to the page, Adam has completely forgotten what he had even been looking at. ‘Love’s Philosophy,’ that’s it. Shelley.

She’s entering, though, and he can’t focus himself enough on what he’s holding to seem entirely nonchalant. Doesn’t give himself enough time to consider that it probably isn’t in his best interests for Detective Moreau to see what he’s holding. She’s bold, flirty. She’d pick up on something and make a remark that would have his cheeks hot and his jaw tightening in a way he doesn’t want it to.

Through the gap in the shelf he can just about see a fitted pencil skirt, shirt tucked in, emerging into the library. She’s holding another book, something supernatural focused that smells a little of blood and Adam isn’t sure where exactly came from.

Next thing he knows, she’s rounded the corner.

“Oh.” He hears her from the side, always debating how the next words will come from his mouth. She just seems a little surprised he’s there, is all. “Hi.”

He can hear the smile in her voice, senses how she places her book down on the coffee table he’d been so fixated on before. The title looks to be written in Haitian Creole.

“Hello. You have been busy.” He nods to the table. She grins. There’s always a sparkle in her eyes when she’s learning new things; especially new things about the world which only opened up to her not so long ago.

“Always have to know more, you know me.”

He does. Knows her scent, the exact amount of time which passes between each step she takes, how she shines like the sun whenever something otherworldly occurs. Knows she would be interested to know about the early edition of Jane Austen he completely accidentally came across. Knows that a large part of him wishes he didn’t know these things.

“What are you reading?” she asks, the tone of her voice something Adam hadn’t even realised he’d been yearning to hear.

“I am not. I picked it up. I will be putting it back now,” he nods, hesitating at the sight of the page. His eyes drag over the words subconsciously: heaven, sweet emotion, sunlight, moonbeams, kiss.

Things which are meant to be pretty and emotive and only seem to be making him think of the one thing he doesn’t really want to think of.

How maybe he doesn’t believe in heaven, but that it might be something close to her eyes when she smiles. Or how sweet emotion is something that Adam doesn’t feel like he can achieve, but if he were to, maybe it would be because of her. The sunlight which shines on her in her office, which highlights her features and matches her personality. Moonbeams… electric, softly-glowing, other-wordly. Kiss… well, he tries not to focus on that one.

But he also thinks sometimes he thinks too much and of too absurd topics. That he shouldn’t allow himself to think these things. He has responsibilities. Duties.

He might have closed the book and placed it back when he hears her start to near, but he feels a little too frozen on the spot.

“Shelly,” she smiles again, pulling down on the corner of the book so that she can see the contents of the page. “A love poem! Romantic,” she teases, in the way that only Orianna knows how.

“I was just interested in the bookmark.”

“Oh, that might have been me, I like this one.”

He nods, moving to close it, but his hand is caught by Orianna instead. He stiffens, the brush from her climbing up the brim in his arm right the way to his heart. Reminding him of when he’d held her hand before.

“Let me read it again.” She smiles, letting her eyes drift back over the page. She’s stubborn, so there’s no point arguing. Not that he’d have much reason to, anyway. Adam finds his curious eyes slipping over the page, too, and he reads the words in front of him.

The fountains mingle with the river

And the rivers with the ocean,

The winds of heaven mix for ever

With a sweet emotion;

Nothing in the world is single;

All things by a law divine

In one spirit meet and mingle.

Why not I with thine?—

See the mountains kiss high heaven

And the waves clasp one another;

No sister-flower would be forgiven

If it disdained its brother;

And the sunlight clasps the earth

And the moonbeams kiss the sea:

What is all this sweet work worth

If thou kiss not me?

When he pulls his eyes from the page, he looks to the woman beside him. She’s mouthing the last line, subtle warmth on her face, and it’s impossible to not focus on the movements of her lips as she rolls through the vowels and consonants.

“Yes, it’s lovely. Just as I remember.”

“I suppose it is not awful.”

She lets out a little snort. “You hate reading for pleasure.”

The smile he returns is ever so miniscule. She’s absolutely right, but seeing her find joy in it makes it not so bad.

He’s drawn in by the pull of her eyes again, struggling to find the right words. Creasing his brow a little, he watches her edge a little closer. Finds himself willing down the impulse to hold her hand once more.

She smiles at him, in a way that tells him she knows the look on his face. It’s frozen, unsure, repressing. So she just leans in, and places a gentle, soft kiss just below his ear. Her lips on his skin sear simultaneously hot and cold, soft. She lingers a little, hand ghosting at his jaw. A little cold touch from the jewellery she wears.

That spot feels incredibly warm even as she moves away again. Even as she pulls the book from his hands, closes it, places it back on the shelf.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Adam.”

Adam starts, not even remembering what the date was. Perhaps he’d been a little too distracted.

“I—well, yes. Happy Valentine’s Day, I suppose.”

#the wayhaven chronicles #loveinwayhaven #twc #adam twc #adam du mortain #twc adam #my writing #a du mortain

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e350tb · 3 years ago

Text

The Owl House: A Blight on Gravesfield (Chapter One)

One

An uninvited guest arrives at the Noceda residence.

Right, settle down everyone, time for a history lesson.

No, no, please save the questions for the end of the class.

At the beginning of the seventeenth century, English settlers - note the terminology there, English, not British, the Act of Union doesn’t happen for another hundred years. Anyway, English settlers started to cross the Atlantic in earnest to colonise what we now call the eastern seaboard of the United States. While Englishmen liked to claim they weren’t motivated by the same ‘base’ desires as the Spaniards in Central and South America, generally speaking, colonists were motivated by the same three things as the conquistadors.

There’s our key words - glory, God and gold.

Not literally gold - the hopes of gold nuggets on shores of Virginia didn’t bear fruit - but commodities. Beaver pelts and tobacco, things you couldn’t get in Europe at the time. The trade in rare goods and eventually humanity would enrich both colonists and their backers for the next two hundred years. They also served as breeding grounds for religious dissent.

Ah, dissenters. We’ll come back to them, because they’re much more interesting than they sound.

By the 1630s, the colonies in Virginia and Massachusetts are fairly well established, and people are spreading out in search of more land. If you’re a settler in Massachusetts and you want to find a new patch of land away from everyone else, well, Connecticut’s right there.

There’s a lot of debate over which town is the oldest in Connecticut - traditionally, it’s Wethersfield. But a few academics have argued that that laurel belongs to a different township - the one in which we are gathered today.

Which brings us to 1635, and the establishment of Gravesfield by ten men who had wandered over from the Colony of Massachusetts Bay. Perhaps no town in the state has as much weird colonial lore as us.

And how much of it is true?

Well, that’s for historians to work out…

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

It all began on a dark and grey autumn day.

When something happens in a small town like Gravesfield, it gets everyone’s attention. About two weeks ago, for example, the curator of the local historical society had been arrested, fined and fired for trespassing, and it was still the talk of the town. They whispered about it in the cafes, shared articles in the offices, and presented wild, unsubstantiated theories about it on local talk radio.

“So you’re saying that we can’t trust historians?”

A few drops of rain rapped against the window - it was one of those days where it doesn’t rain, but it gusts heavily, and droplets are caught in the wind. The kitchen was dark; light shadows danced on the wall, and the illuminated numbers on the microwave seemed almost brilliant in the gloom. It very much matched the mood.

“Look, Kerry, I’m not sayin’ all historians are bad, but you gotta listen to some o’ these people; the things they say about Jefferson n’ Washington n’ all them folks. They get their kicks on bein’ right and tearin’ people down, this Hopkins fella probably wanted to prove something, and…”

Over the dim sound of the radio, one could hear the clock; tick, tick, tick, tick. Occasionally it was drowned out as a gust rattled the windows and doors, but the sound always returned, constant and ever present - tick, tick, tick, tick.

Time. Ever ticking, ever moment. Every moment, a moment stolen.

“And that was Marvin from Bridge Street. We’ll come back to that, but first the news on the hour. Brad?”

On the bench, next to the phone, stood a small picture frame, the glass slightly illuminated in the stormy afternoon light. To all the world, it showed a typical family - a man, a woman and a little girl. The man’s face was obscured by the light, but one could see the clear similarities in the faces of the mother and daughter.

Those that were here. Those that were now gone.

“The Los Angeles Police Department has announced an amber alert that was put into place several months ago has been withdrawn. In defiance of all expectations, a teenager, whose family has asked for anonymity, returned home over the weekend; two other missing girls, whose cases were connected to the teenager, remain missing at this-”

Camila Noceda turned off the radio.

She sat at the kitchen table, staring at the clock. It had been a long day. It had been a long few weeks.

Unlike those engaging in baseless speculation about the case of Jacob Hopkins, Camila knew exactly what had happened to the previously respected amateur historian. She could even tell you who the mysterious assailant who had beaten him up and left him for the police was; it was her.

She was quite happy to remain anonymous, too. She didn’t want any laurels, any radio interviews, anything like that. She didn’t want to be reminded of that day.

Not while Luz remained separated from her.

Everything about the situation boggled her mind. The Boiling Isles, the Owl House, Emperor Belos - they sounded like fantasy; even she’d thought they were fantasy to begin with. But the idea that they were real, and that her daughter was in such a dangerous world - willingly, no less - was absolutely terrifying.

The same words ran through her head, day in and day out.

“Staying here was the best decision I ever made…”

Had she really been that bad of a mother?

There was a strange thumping noise outside. For a moment, Camila ignored it, but then it came again, louder this time.

THUMP. THUMP. THUMP.

It was like something was trying to break through a door.

Camila shot up - was it Vee? No, she was at school (where everyone still believed she was Luz - Camila swallowed the thought.) Was an animal trapped under the house - or had Hopkins started trapping them again? If he was, she was going to make their last encounter feel positively…

BANG!

Camila jumped. It was definitely coming from the front yard - this time it sounded a bit like a car backfiring, but much louder and much closer. The thumps were getting more frequent too, almost like a heartbeat - thump-thump thump-thump thump-thump!

She looked out the window.

There was… something swirling and morphing on the front lawn, trying and failing to manifest into a single unified shape. She could just about see the frame of a door, and a swirling landscape of… nothing behind. It almost hurt her eyes to look at. Yet she could just about swear she could see a silhouette through the shifting, swirling frame.

Luz!

She raced to the front door and threw it open, just in time for the door frame to settle - only a little, as the edges still twirled and twitched like a heart in cardiac arrest. The figure stepped forward, and Camila realised there was another held in her arms.

She stepped into the light, and Camila’s heart skipped a beat.

The figure was about Luz’ age, she reckoned - her hair was a bright purple, with edges of brown, and she wore what looked almost like a robe with purple sleeves and pants. Her eyes were a hazel brown, and her skin was pale - but more remarkable were her pointed ears.

And yet Camilia’s eyes focused on the limp form in her arms, her brown hair messy, her tan skin covered in cuts and bruises, and her breathing heavy and laboured.

The other girl spoke, her voice shaking.

“Are you Luz’s mom?”

Camila’s hands covered her mouth.

“Luz,” she whispered.

She was running before she knew it, sprinting over to the limp form of her daughter. She barely heard the other girl; she seemed to be babbling.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry! Emperor Belos, the golden guard, they-they came without warning a-a-and this was the only thing I could think of! Sh-she needs help but I don’t know…”

Camila took her from the girl’s arms, swiftly placing a finger on Luz’s wrist - a pulse, even and regular, if a bit shallow. Good sign, but she needed to get inside. She could go to pieces later; right now Luz needed her.

“It’s okay, mija, mami’s here,” she whispered. “We need to get you inside, come on…”

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I didn’t know how to…”

Camila looked back at the girl as she turned to run inside.

“You can tell me about it later,” she said. “We need to lie her down.”

She raced inside - she thought she heard the girl sprinting after her - and ran into the living room, laying Luz down on the couch. Quickly she checked her temperature - seemed okay, but her skin was a little clammy. More important were the cuts and bruises. She needed bandages, and probably a hospital. She needed to call an ambulance, now, and…

“M-Ms. Noceda?”

The girl had arrived behind her - she took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down.

“Can… can I try something?”

Camila opened her mouth to reply - what could she do? Luz needed a doctor! She needed a hospital, she needed…

Slowly, the girl stepped forward, standing over Luz’s unconscious form.

“Lilith said I wasn’t supposed to use this unless it was an emergency,” she said, “but I think this is an emergency, so…”

She touched her forehead to Luz’.

“With this spell declared… let the pain be shared.”

Camila stepped back, eyes wide, as both Luz and the girl glowed blue. The light intensified, and for a moment, she had to shield her eyes.

When she regained her vision, the girl was slumped next to the couch, sweating and breathing a little heavily; but Luz looked noticeably healthier, and many of the worst cuts and bruises were gone.

“What…”

“I shared the pain,” the girl said woosily.

“I… you could’ve hurt yourself!” exclaimed Camila. “Y-you have hurt yourself! I…”

“Yeah?” The girl chuckled humourlessly. “It’s worth it… as long as Luz is okay.”

CRASH! BANG! THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD!

Camila jumped and turned around. Outside the door, she could just about see the magical doorway violently twitch and swirl, thrashing like a trapped, wounded animal. For a moment, it seemed almost to be in a state of rage, as if it would lunge at Camila in a last, desperate effort; for help or to main, she could not say.

Then there was a loud pop, and it was gone. It was as if it had never been there.

“Your… portal?” Camila said, her throat dry. “It’s gone.”

“I…” The girl had hobbled to her feet and was gazing outside to where the door had been. She swayed on her feet.

“Oh,” she said softly. “Oh, Titan.”

Like a puppet with its strings cut, she swayed and dropped to the floor.

Camila looked down at the two unconscious girls; she mopped her brow, forcing herself not to panic or cry. She needed to keep herself together, to make sure Luz and her - friend, maybe? - were okay. Then she could cry all she liked.

There was a knock, and Camila turned back to the door. There was another girl, one eerily similar to Luz, standing there - she looked deeply confused.

“Camila?” she asked. “I-is everything okay?”

Camila swallowed, wondering how she was going to explain any of this.

#the owl house #luz noceda #amity blight #camila noceda #vee #fanfiction #writing #a blight on gravesfield

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myhockeyworld87 · 5 years ago

Text

Not a Perfect Propsal - Mat Barzal - The 5 times Mat wanted to propose + the one time he did.

Word Count: 4,900

POV: Mat

Warnings: Language, mention of sex

Notes: So I’ve been wanting to do one of those 4 +1 things, but it ended up being 5 +1...haha! I guess I have a problem. Anyway, hope you guys enjoy!

When you met (Y/N) almost three years ago, you knew she was special. It was pretty obvious only a few months into the relationship that she was the one for you. You were never one to believe much in soulmates, but you knew without a doubt that she was yours. (Y/N) was smart, funny, driven, and independent, and you loved her with everything in you.

It was obvious to everyone that you two were meant to be. Even your mom told you the first time that she met (Y/N) to not let her getaway. Now here you were a couple years later, in a jewelry store picking out the perfect ring for her. It had taken a bit of sneaking around to actually get her ring size; it was the one piece of information that you didn’t know about her. She always took her rings off at night, so last night while she was sleeping you’d plucked it off her nightstand and put it in your coat pocket.

“Mat, have you seen my sapphire ring? I’m sure I put here last night.” She was on her hands and knees crawling around the floor looking for it.

“No babe, but I’m sure it’ll turn up.” You felt a little guilty, but it was all for a good cause. “I’m heading to practice, now. I’ll help you look for it when I get back.” That way you could magically make it reappear. She bounced up off the floor, to give you a kiss before you headed out the door.

One

Instead of heading to practice, you trotted off to the jewelers. He took (Y/N)’s ring and sized it quickly, then brought out a bunch of rings for you to look at. They showed you princess, cushion, and round cuts. Diamonds that ranged from three carats to ten, from solitary ones to ones surrounded by a hundred smaller diamonds, yet none of them were special enough for (Y/N).

You wanted something unique, just like her and you just weren’t seeing it. “Do you have anything else?” you asked the jeweler, hoping to god that he did.

“Nothing here but we can always design something.” Well, that piqued your curiosity. “Let’s talk about what shaped you like.”

“Well, this one is nice.” You pointed to a one that looked almost like a teardrop.

“That’s a pear cut, very nice choice.” He put it up on his computer screen. “So what size are you thinking?”

“Well I want it to stand out, so maybe five?”

“Very good. Now, let’s look at some settings.” He threw up a bunch of different ones, some antique, some modern but still it didn’t seem right. Finally, he put dozens of little diamonds around it, but yet the main stone seemed to almost float around them. “What do you think of that?”

“It’s gorgeous, but something’s missing.” He added a second layer that pulled away from both the first and the center stone. It looked like a halo, and absolutely perfect for your angel. “Yes, that’s it.”

“Well, it should take about two weeks to be made Mr. Barzal, and then it’s all yours.”

“Perfect.” That gave you just enough time to plan the perfect evening.

You decided dinner at one of New York’s most iconic restaurants, Tavern on the Green would be the perfect spot. So you made reservations for two weeks from then when the ring would be done. Once, you were home, you conveniently found (Y/N)’s sapphire ring under the bed. “I swear I looked there like four hundred times.”

“Guess my eyes are just a bit better, babe.” You slid it onto her hand mimicking what you would do in just a couple of weeks.

Everything was set, (Y/N) had no idea where you were going to dinner, just that you were going someplace nice. You were just waiting to get the ring from the jewelry store. You’d been pacing the apartment, all morning when your cell finally rang late in the afternoon. “Mr. Barzal, I’m sorry to say, but the ring isn’t quite finished yet.”

“What? It has to be, I have everything set for tonight.”

“Well unfortunately we had a little problem with the setting, so it’s going to be another week. I apologize for the inconvenience.” With that, he hung up the phone. Great there went your entire plan. You still took her to Tavern on the Green, which she absolutely loved, but you were just disappointed.

Two

This time you decided you’d wait until you actually had the ring before you made any plans. You still wanted to do it over dinner. Maybe drop the ring in her glass of champagne, like they did in those cheesy romance movies. Only this time you decided not to do it at some fancy restaurant. Well, it was a nice restaurant, just not that big of a name like Tavern. You and (Y/N) went there often, especially for birthdays or when one of your family members were in town.

“Babe, why don’t you wear that navy dress that I love tonight?” It would go perfectly with the suit you’d picked out.

“Isn’t that a little fancy? I was just planning on wearing the burgundy one.” Though you liked that dress on her, it just wasn’t special enough. You knew that the two of you would be taking pictures after this, and she always loved the way that dress looked in pictures, but then you loved the way she looked in it as well.

You slid your arms around her waist. “But I just love you in the navy one.” You peppered her with kisses all down her neck.

She twisted in your arms then. “I have a better idea, why don’t we just stay in tonight. Order some take out and maybe…” Her hands wandered down the front of your crotch, where she fondled you, causing you to suck in a breath. As much as you wanted to just stay in with her and do all the things she was insinuating, it would spoil everything.

“We can still do that.” You told her, taking her wrist and moving it off your now semi-hard cock. “After dinner. I’m just really in the mood for their lobster bisque.” You hoped it sounded like a plausible excuse.

“Fine.” She stated moving back to vanity and starting to apply her makeup.

“So you’ll wear the navy then?”

She rolled her eyes in the mirror at you. “Yes, I’ll wear that one.”

You had arranged for your table to be off to the side, to afford you a modicum of quiet; though there were still a few tables around you. You’d planned on waiting until dessert, and then you would pop the big question. “Mat, are you ok?”

“Yeah, why?”

“You seem a little preoccupied babe.” Well of course you were. This was going to be the biggest thing you’d done in your life.

“Sorry, just thinking about the game tomorrow, but did I tell you how gorgeous you look tonight?”

“Thanks, babe.” The conversation during dinner was nice. You talked about the upcoming road trip and she mentioned how her parents were coming to visit. You two also talked about your trip to the Bahamas with some of the guys for winter break. The waiter had just taken your order, when you looked to your left, as they brought out a special dessert for the table next to yours. You thought it must be someone’s birthday, all the tables around them were now caught up in the moment, just like you and (Y/N). But instead of it being a birthday, the man got down on one knee, saying the most romantic words ever, as he proposed to his girlfriend. Effectively stealing your thunder. There was no way you could propose now. It would look cheap. People at the restaurant were already crowding around the newly engaged couple and showering them with attention and all you could think of was that, that was supposed to you and (Y/N).

So you canceled the champagne that you ordered, discreetly of course, so that (Y/N) wouldn’t know, ate dessert, and headed back to your apartment; still not engaged.

Three

After the dinner fiasco, you decided that it would be a better plan to just ask (Y/N) to marry you while you were on vacation during bye week. You’d gone in with a couple of the guys and gotten a beachfront house to rent. About three other couples were going, and none knew what your plans were.

The house was beautiful and you were kind of disappointed you would only be there for five days instead of a couple of weeks. The water was blue, the sand was practically white and it was the perfect setting to ask (Y/N) to marry you. You hadn’t really made a decision about how you wanted to do it until you got here. You were standing out on the balcony of the suite, you and (Y/N) would share for the next few days as you wracked your brain for ideas.

The first one that came to your mind was a romantic dinner on the beach just the two of you, but then you thought about how you’d planned it at dinner the last two times and it hadn’t gone well at all. You decided you needed to come up with a different plan. That’s when you saw it, just beyond the horizon; there was a small boat. You could picture you both on it as the sunset. You’d have a bottle of expensive champagne, and as the boat bobbed up and down and with the lighting perfect; you’d get down on one knee and ask her to be your wife. It would be magical.

It took a full day, to find a company that wasn’t already booked, but you finally found one; and another twelve hours after that before you were away from (Y/N) to actually call them. Tito was walking by when you were on the phone. “Hey, can I get in on that boat ride?” You excused yourself for a minute with the booking agent.

“I was kind of hoping it would be only (Y/N) and I.”

“Please, I’m really trying to impress Kayleigh on this trip.” Kayleigh was the girl Tito had brought with him, and it seemed like he was trying to take it to the next level with her. While you wanted the whole boat to yourself for the proposal, you couldn’t say no to your best friend.

“Alright, fine. Can you make that reservation for four instead?” She took all your information and you were all set for tomorrow afternoon. You would have a day of fun at sea and then a romantic proposal.

You’d given (Y/N) some general information to pack somethings for the following day, while you packed a small duffle bag with all you needed to ask her to marry you. A car arrived around three o’clock to take the four of you to the boat. What you didn’t expect was the second car that was there. “Are you guys driving separately?” You asked Tito.

“Um no, I think that one is for everyone else.”

You grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled him aside where no one could hear you. “What do you mean everyone else?”

“Well, Kayleigh and I were talking about it and then MDC walked past and asked if he could come and I didn’t really think that it would be a big deal.” Well, it wouldn’t matter if one other couple went; you could make this work. “I think he mentioned something to a couple of the other guys next door at well.” A few guys from other teams were your neighbors down here in the Bahamas, and you’d all hung out on the beach the last couple of days. Though it didn’t mean that you wanted to share your proposal with the entire NHL.

You breathed out a frustrated sigh. “I wish you would’ve asked me. I had something special planned.” You could still make this work, at least that’s what you told yourself.

“Sorry, Barzy.”

You all piled in the SUVs and headed to the dock. The number of people waiting by your boat, made you want to scream. There had to be a good thirty people. This was not the intimate setting you had planned. “Babe, maybe we should do this tomorrow?”

(Y/N) cocked her head at you. “Why?”

“I don’t know I just wanted it to be us, you know?”

She kissed you on the cheek. “We have plenty of time for us, later. Let’s just have fun with all our friends today.” There was no point in fighting it, so you gave in and headed onboard what was now the party boat. You could always rebook tomorrow and it would be just the two of you.

The day was full of sun, loud music, and rum punch, too much rum if you were being honest, at least in (Y/N)’s case. She was on the deck of the ship, swaying to the music when the sun was setting, not quite what you had pictured. “Mat!” She yelled when she caught sight of you. “Come dance with me.” You made your way over to where she was dancing with Tito and Kayleigh. “Where have you been?”

“Around,” you answered as you pulled her close to your body. The truth was you were sulking a bit because you hadn’t been able to ask her to be your wife.

“We should totally buy one of these.” She yelled over the music.

“What a boat?” To which she nodded, as she stumbled a bit from the alcohol. You moved the two of you off to the bow of the boat, where it was a bit quieter and the two of you could sit down. “Why would we buy a boat?”

In her drunken state, (Y/N) got a bit handsy. Not that you were complaining, but with the crowd milling around on the boat, there wouldn't be a place to finish what she was starting. “So we could…you know.” Her hand trailed up your thigh and you had to stop her wrist before she went any higher. She leaned over and whispered in your ear. “Just think about, the gentle up and down motion of the ship, while your cock slides in and out of me.” You groaned you couldn’t help yourself, had your plans actually worked you’d probably be doing that right now, but unfortunately for you that was not the case.

“I need a drink.” A few beers later, you were in no better shape than (Y/N) and any thoughts of renting the boat out for the next day were forgotten.

Four

The following day you had every intention of getting up early and trying to do another sunset cruise, though that backfired when both you and (Y/N) woke up hungover. There was no way it would be romantic to have waves crash against the boat, as you hurled over the side. So instead, the two of you had a low-key day at the beach.

By the afternoon, you both were feeling a bit better, and (Y/N) and Kayleigh were able to con you into burying Tito in the sand. It was perfect retribution for sabotaging what would’ve been the perfect proposal. You made him suffer a bit before actually helping him out. Later on, you all built a giant sandcastle. You had to admit that in the end, it looked pretty darn good.

That’s when it hit you. You decided you were going to sneak out in the middle of the night and write ‘will you marry me’ in the sand. The two of you would wake up and you’d take her out on the balcony for her to see it. It would be something out of the movies.

All night you were keyed up just waiting to put your plan into motion. The two of you finally called it an evening around eleven, though neither one of you were ready for sleep by any means. So after having sex, not once but twice, you were both ready to fall asleep. It was hard to stay awake, but you finally felt (Y/N)’s breathing steady out. You crept out of bed and outside. You drew a huge heart first, next to the sandcastle you’d all built earlier, then started working on the words. “What the hell are you doing?” Tito’s voice caused you to jump and ruin the ‘W’ you were working on.

“Keep it down. I don’t want to wake (Y/N) up.” Tito padded down to the beach where you were.

“But what are you doing?”

“Well since you ruined my original idea. I’m working on a new to get (Y/N) to marry me.”

“Woah! What? That’s major. Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked.

“I don’t know. I just wanted it to be special, but someone had to go and invite the whole fucking universe to my sunset cruise.”

“Fuck man, I’m really sorry.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “Anything I can do to help?”

“Yeah, grab a stick and start writing.” It didn’t take the two of you long and as you stood back you had to admit that there was no way she could say no to this proposal. Both of you headed back to bed, though you found it a bit difficult to fall asleep.

You were the first to wake up, more because you were so excited to finally propose. Your fingers lightly traced down her arm and around to her back. She stirred but didn’t wake fully, so you lightly kissed her lips. Her eyes blinked open and she smiled at you. “You’re perky this morning.” Her hands roamed over your chest and down your body.

“Just anxious to start the day.” You told her, wiggling slightly before she could get your morning wood harder than it already was. “We should go see if we can catch the sunrise?”

She looked behind her to the sliding glass doors. “Babe, I think it’s been up for a while.”

Well, you really couldn’t argue with that. “Well, why don’t we go outside and maybe….”

“Mathew Barzal, are you feeling kinky this morning?” She devilishly wiggled her eyebrows.

“Something like that,” you told her, easing out of her grasp and the bed. There had been robes left in the room, and you tossed one over for (Y/N) to put on. While her back was turned, you grabbed the ring out of your hiding spot in the closet and stuck it in your pocket. You quickly hurried around her side of the bed, to walk outside with her; your arms wrapped around her waist as you went. You steered her towards the edge of the balcony and then looked out at the beachfront, but there was nothing. “What the…”

She tilted her head to look back at you. “Something wrong?”

“Umm…” How were you supposed to tell her, her marriage proposal was missing? It was nothing but a blank beach. Did someone come along and get rid of it? Thankfully you thought of something to say. “I’m just wondering where the sandcastle went.”

She gave a light chuckle. “Babe, the tide probably came in and swept it away.”

“What?”

“You know, like fourth-grade science or something, high tides and low tide.”

“Damn it!” Why the hell hadn’t you thought of that? How could you have been so stupid?

“If you’re that disappointed, we can work on another one today.”

It was a sweet offer, but now the day, hell the trip was totally ruined. “Nah, it’s fine.” She went to slide her hands into the pockets of your robe, which caused you to jump back before she could find the ring box. “I gotta pee, be right back.” You slipped the ring back into your bag, knowing that you wouldn’t get to ask her again till you were back in New York.

Five

Tito cornered you in the kitchen later that morning, after your none balcony proposal; to see how things went. When you told him what happened, he then took it upon himself to be your wingman and make sure that the next time you asked (Y/N) to marry you it would go off without a hitch. It was obvious that you couldn’t ask her on Valentine’s Day; it was just too cliché. Which meant that you were going to have to wait until the beginning of March to ask her.

You got tickets to the hottest new Broadway play, which you knew that (Y/N) had been dying to see. You were then going to take her on a carriage ride to Central Park, where you’d lead her across Gapstow Bridge so you could propose. Tito helped you hire someone to take secret photos of the whole thing. The two of you had it down to a science so that absolutely nothing could go wrong.

The day had been hectic with morning skate, then you got called away for a quick interview, which ended up not being quick at all. The two of you were rushing around the apartment getting ready to go for the evening. You had your suit already picked out and ready to go, but at the last minute (Y/N) changed the color of her dress and threw the whole thing off, so you quickly chose one that would compliment her in every way possible. You no sooner finished and you were out the door headed to the theater.

The show was amazing and (Y/N) couldn’t stop talking about it as you left. “Oh my god, Mat that was just simply amazing. I still can’t believe you got us tickets.”

“Well, the night’s not over yet. I thought we could be romantic and take a carriage ride as well.” The horse and buggy you’d reserved pulled up as if right on cue. “My lady,” you said making a grand flourish and assisting (Y/N) into it.

“Mat, this is just incredible.” You scurried in beside her, as the driver had a nice warm blanket for you to snuggle under. (Y/N) leaned over and kissed you then. “Babe, this night is just perfect.” You continued through the busy New York streets when a funny smell crossed your nose. (Y/N) leaned over to whisper in your ear, “do you smell that?”

Before you could even answer her, you heard the horse emit a loud noise, that could literally only be described as a fart. (Y/N) burst into giggles and you joined her. “This is too much.” You said when you finally got your laughter under control. The problem was, it wasn’t just one little moment of passing gas on the animal’s part. It lasted the entire trip and had you asking, ‘what the hell they fed the poor animal?’ Thankfully (Y/N) was a good sport about the whole thing, though by the time you got to the right spot in the park the two of you were both sick to your stomach.

“Let’s walk a bit and get some clean air.” You told her as she descended the carriage.

“Gladly.” You laced your hand with hers and started the short stroll through Central Park to the bridge. Gapstow Bridge offered one of the best views of the city skyline and as you made your way there, your heart started to race. You were about a hundred yards away when you padded your suit pocket to check for the ring. It wasn’t there. You let go of (Y/N)’s hand and checked your other pocket, still no sign of it. Did you put it in the breast pocket? A quick check and it wasn’t there either. “Something wrong?”

Yes, something was wrong! You’d lost the damn ring. Had it fell out getting into the carriage or at the theater? Your mind raced and you couldn’t think of anything to tell (Y/N). Where the hell was it? “Mat, are you ok?”

You needed to come up with something and quick. “I think I lost my phone.”

“I have mine in my purse. I’ll call yours.” While that would’ve been helpful had you’d actually lost your phone, it really didn’t make a difference at the moment since you knew it was in your pocket. You looked over at (Y/N) as she fished in her purse for her cell. That’s when you remembered where the damn ring was. It was in your other suit coat, the one that you were originally supposed to wear when she was going to wear the red dress, instead of the black one she had on.

“Found it.” You told her, somewhat relieved but still incredibly pissed at yourself for ruining yet another proposal. There was no point in going to the bridge now. You pulled out your phone and shot Tito a quick message telling him to abort the mission. It seemed as though every time you thought you had the perfect plan to ask her to marry you, something got in the way. You were starting to question whether or not you should actually ask her.

+ 1

You were done with trying to plan anything out to be perfect, on your next home game, you planned on waiting till after it was over and just throwing it up on the jumbotron at the Barclays Center. It would be something that could easily be done. Most people were gone by the time you finished interviews and everything, but even if they were there; it didn’t matter because you wanted the world to know you were marrying (Y/N).

Again, Tito was your accomplice and helped you get everything ready, including getting the social media people to help you film everything. The whole thing was set to go down on March 12. (Y/N) might not be wearing the perfect dress, but then this was more the two of you.

The morning started out the same as any other and you got up to get ready for morning skate. You were just about to head out the door when your phone rang. Tito’s voice was on the other end. “Did you hear the news?”

“What news?”

“The season’s on pause, because of this damn global pandemic.”

“You have got to be fucking kidding me.” First, the ring wasn’t done, then several botched proposals and now this! It was too much. “Well, this is just fucking fantastic.” You dropped your bag down and headed into the kitchen, still fuming. “I can’t fucking believe this.”

“I know man, now what are you going to do?”

“I have no fucking clue. I’ll call you when I figure it out.” You disconnected the phone then slammed it on the counter.

(Y/N) had been in the kitchen cleaning up the dishes from breakfast. “I’m not sure what happened but there were an awful lot of fucks in that conversation.”

“The NHL just paused the season because of this virus thing.”

She made her way over to you then and wrapped her arms around your waist. “Well, New York has been getting a lot of cases lately. I can’t say that I’m upset that they’re putting your safety first.” You tighten your arms around her, now debating on how you could propose. “I can’t say I’m too upset either, especially if it means I get to spend more time here with you.” She turned her head up and planted the sweetest kiss on your lips. It was soft and tender and there was just so much love in it, that you broke apart abruptly.

“I’ll be right back,” you said. “Don’t move.” Then scurried back to the bedroom and grabbed the ring box. She was still rooted to the same spot as when you left, a bewildered look on her face. “Baby, I’ve been trying to do this for months and every time something comes up, including this damn pandemic. But I’m tired of waiting.” You dropped down to one knee and grabbed her left hand, while her other immediately went to cover the gasp she let out. “(Y/N) you have been my rock these last few years, always by my side, putting me first and cheering me on. I think I knew shortly after I met you that we’d get to this moment and I wanted it to be just perfect, but the harder I tried to do that; the more it seemed like it wouldn’t happen. But I guess that’s because we don’t need perfect; we just need each other. I love you so damn much (Y/N) and I’m asking you right now if you’ll be in this crazy life with me until the end of time. Will you marry me?”

You opened the ring box, and tears were streaming down her face, as she nodded yes furiously. “Of course,” she finally choked out on a sob. It took all of about two seconds to slide the ring on her finger. She flopped down on the floor with you, her mouth immediately finding yours in a passionate kiss that stole both of your breathes away, and while the moment may have not been what you planned, that kiss was so much more than you dreamed. It was full of promises and love, and all things to come.

#Mat Barzal #Mat Barzal Imagine #Mat Barzal imagines #4 +1 #5 +1 #nhl imagines #nhl imagine #nhl fanfic #hockey imagines #hockey imagine #hockey fanfiction

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wholesomemendes · 4 years ago

Note

ok here me out, shawn and the reader fic but based on the scene from Hercules where they’re in the garden and they fall in love with each other

Author’s Note: I might have strayed a little bit away from the Hercules scene, but the main concept of them falling in love in the garden is still there. I love Hercules so this was extremely fun for me to write and I hope you like it as well! As always, please feel free to leave feedback and tell me what you think!

Warnings: I think there’s one swear word maybe, I’m not sure. There’s really no warnings

There was a calming feeling surrounding the private garden, the moon illuminating the night with its bright light. You could hear the sound of crickets chirping in the distance and the occasional fish that swam its way up to the surface of the small pond. The air smelled crisp and you took a deep breath, allowing yourself to close your eyes while you sat on the old metal bench.

“Fancy seeing you around here.” You jumped slightly at the sound of his voice, eyes opening to be met with him looking as dashing as ever. A white tunic adorned his body that displayed a fair amount of his beautiful chest and his dark green riding pants hugged his legs in all of the right places, making it hard to look away from him. Once you somehow managed to tear your eyes away from his breathtaking body you were met with his honey brown eyes piercing into you, a cocky smirk playing on his lips.

“That’s strange, I vaguely remember you inviting me here with you tonight, your majesty.” The corner of your lips created a small smirk of your own and you watched as he fought back a smile, lightly bumping your hip with his own so he could sit next to you.

“Did I now?” Shawn turned to face you, maneuvering his body so that he could comfortably cross his legs with his arms resting along the back of the bench. One of his fingers began toying with a loose strand of your hair, eyes focused on how he was wrapping it around himself, “You have the most beautiful hair.”

You tried to will the blush off your cheeks to no avail, secretly hoping that the darkness of the night would cover it up. “Thank you, I must say yours isn’t half bad either,” you remarked, a hand coming up to lightly tug at the long curl that always seemed to fall in front of his face, watching as it bounced back when you released it from your grasp.

“Not half bad? Please, I know you’re in love with my hair.”

You feigned shock, playfully rolling your eyes when the smirk returned to his face, “In love with your hair? I don’t think so. Just because every girl in the kingdom is swooning over you doesn’t mean I am.”

“Yeah, sure. Says the person that was ogling at my body when I arrived.” He let out one of his sincere laughs when you dropped your head to hide from his gaze, mumbling out a “Wasn’t ogling” that was barely heard by him. “‘S ok, I like when you stroke my ego. You can do it whenever you want.”

“Shut up,” you whined, turning your head away from him with a pout on your face, arms coming up to cross on your chest defensively. “Oh, come on. Look at me. Touch my hair, ‘s only fair when my hand is fully in yours.” You didn’t even realize that his fingers were no longer twirling a single strand, but rather completely encased by your hair while he rubbed gentle circles on the back of your head. It was normal.The small touches, the gentle teasing, the light hearted flirting, it was all something that you would find the two of you doing if you happened to see him visiting you in your parents’ bakery or sitting with you while you read your newest book inside of the library. It wasn’t everyday that the prince came into town, so even though you hated all of the jealous stares from the Prince Shawn fanclub, you let it slide when he brought in extra business to the bakery.

He lightly grabbed your wrist, causing you to look him in the eyes as he brought your hand to his hair. You ran your fingers through his thick curls, not missing when his eyes fluttered at the feeling. “Is this why you invited me here?” you asked, watching as he furrowed his brows in confusion at your question, “The petting?”

“Not exactly,” he laughed, “Just wanted to see you again...but I don’t mind the petting, if that’s what you want to call it.” Your fingers had been through his hair a handful of times, it was hard to resist when it looked so soft while he was laying next to you as you read your book under the big oak tree. A comfortable silence fell between the two of you and you tried your hardest to keep your gaze on his hair, which proved to be a challenge when his eyes were busy studying every single piece of your face. His hand made its way out of your hair to brush a stray piece out of your face before he stood up, extending a hand for you to take. Yours fit perfectly into his much larger one somehow, even if his completely engulfed yours. His hands were rough from all of his training and horse riding, but it only made it feel better when it was intertwined with yours.

The two of you walked down the winding path of the garden, a path you both knew by heart by now. Shawn had brought you here for the first time a few months ago, but you had made your way to the garden by yourself more times than he knew. He had told you that it was his safe place to get away and just think about life and you could see why. Something about the tranquility made your thoughts run wild and more often than not you found yourself sitting by the old, broken fountain replaying the moments you had with Shawn and trying to diminish your feelings towards him.

He swung your hands back and forth as you walked, fingers mindlessly rubbing on the back of your palm. “What’s on your mind?” he asked, pulling you out of your thoughts.

“What do you mean?”

“I can practically see the gears turning in your head, love. What are you thinking about?”

You hated how your heart fluttered at the nickname, but deep down inside you wanted him to say it again. “‘S nothing. My thoughts are just wandering.” He let out a noise of approval at your words as you continued down the path towards the old fountain and you wondered if you should ask him the question that had been on your mind for the past two weeks, “How did things go with Princess Natalia?”

If the confusion on his face wasn’t answer enough, his first question was, “Who?”

“You know, the princess that was visiting you for the past two weeks? The one that literally just left today?”

“Oh right, her name was Natalia,” he laughed nervously, his free hand coming to scratch the back of his neck, “Yeah, um, she was horrible. I’m so glad she’s gone.”

You couldn’t help the relieved feeling that took place in your chest at his disinterest in her. The princess had been visiting from the kingdom over in hopes of arranging an engagement between her and Shawn that would create an alliance between the two kingdoms. “She is very beautiful, though.”

“I guess, but her personality is absolute shit.”

“Don’t think that’s the way a prince should talk about a princess.”

“Well it should be because I don’t know how else to describe her.” He sighed as the two of you approached the fountain, taking a seat on the stone exterior, “I’m so sick of all of this engagement stuff. I don’t know when my father will understand that I don’t want to marry some empty-headed blonde with a kingdom that needs our help.”

“He just wants what’s best for you and the kingdom,” you reasoned with him, although you were fully on his side, “It’s what happened to him when he was your age and I’m not saying it’s right, but you’re going to be crowned king in a few years and I think he just wants you to have a queen by your side.”

“Yeah, well if we’re talking about making someone a queen it needs to be someone that I trust to rule by my side, not someone who makes me want to tear my hair out every three seconds.” You giggled lightly at his response, taking your time to admire his side profile as he sat beside you. “Besides,” he began, threading his fingers through yours once again since they had released when the two of you had sat down, “I want to marry out of love. The world is changing and I think it’s pointless to have these precedents that are only put in place to make me absolutely miserable.”

“You’re overreacting.”

“Am I? Wouldn’t you feel the same if someone was taking away your chance at true love?” His gaze fell back to you, turning his body so that his eyes bore into yours. You were momentarily lost in his eyes as your heart beat at a rapid pace. “Don’t you want that?”

“What?”

“A chance at true love?”

“Of course, what girl doesn’t want that. But I don’t think I’ll get it, no one is exactly lining up to marry their sons off to a poor baker’s daughter.”

“Hey, don’t say that,” he whispered as he used a finger to gently push your chin back to look at him, “How much money you have doesn’t have anything to do with your worth. Also, I love your parents bakery, I think they make the best pastries I’ve ever had.”

A soft smile appeared on your face and you looked up at him through your lashes, “You’re just saying that.”

“I’m not, I’ve never lied to you.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

“Swear on my life I haven’t, I always tell you the truth.” His eyes flickered across your face that was illuminated by the moon, only making you look even more angelic to him, “God, you’re so beautiful.”

“Stop,” you whined, turning your face away from him sheepishly.

“Hey, hey, you need to stop hiding that pretty face of yours.” Shawn grabbed your chin in between his pointer and thumb, not bothering to let go once you were facing him, “I think I know why no one’s asked to marry you yet.”

“Oh do you now? Please enlighten me oh wise one.”

“Shut up, I’m trying to be sentimental,” he laughed as his hand came up to rest on your jaw, “But I’m one hundred percent sure of my reasoning. You’re too good for them. Those boys in town don’t deserve you at all.”

“Wow, that really opens up my options then. What am I supposed to do? Live alone my whole life tending to the chickens?”

“No,” he whispered, his face inching ever so slightly closer to yours, “You’re supposed to live in a palace for the rest of your life with a crown on your head.”

“What do you mean-” you were cut off by his lips landing gently on yours. While your mind didn’t seem to know how to react, your body did for your lips began to slowly move in unison with his. It was short and innocent, but it was enough to leave your mind reeling when he pulled back, resting his forehead on yours.

“Tell me you don’t feel it too and I won’t ever bring this up again. Just tell me that I’m crazy and you don’t feel the way I do when we’re together,” he breathed out, his free hand that wasn’t on your face grabbing yours to bring it to his beating heart.

“Of course I do, I’ve always felt it.”

“So have I, it’s why I always sent those princesses away. I felt like I had a chance at true love right under my nose.”

“But I’m not a princess, Shawn. What would everyone say if they found out you were with someone that’s not of royalty.”

“Then I guess I’ll just have to make you my princess,” and with that he reconnected his lips to yours, already envisioning how breathtaking you’d look with his crown on your head.

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quietkatie1864 · 5 years ago

Text

A Perfect Day

Summary: After an argument with the Doctor, the reader is meets a familiar face.

10th Doctor x reader, 12th Doctor x reader

Hot, angry tears slid down Y/N’s face as she watched the TARDIS vanish from her sight in a slow blinking haze. She stood there for several moments contemplating the fight she and the Doctor had just endured. There had been screaming, cold heartless stares, and horrible insults that they will both later regret.

But right now she had a right to be angry. Angry and absolutely devastated.

The Doctor, Martha, and Y/N had been visiting a new planet. The most beautiful planet Y/N had seen. Everything had been so green and full of life. Even the inhabitants of the planet had been green. “Like proper aliens,” Martha had joked. The only other color came from the trees. The trunks of the trees were a mixture of deep violet and bright blue, woven together and branching off hundreds of feet above the ground, sprouting the most delicate looking leaves that stayed bright green year round.

Y/N had wander off on her own after a while. She and the Doctor were friendly, but they were not quite friends yet. Y/N began traveling with the Doctor because of Rose. She and Rose has been best friends since they were kids. Wherever one went, the other followed. The Doctor had tolerated Y/N because Rose loves her, but now that Rose was gone the Doctor was stuck with her. At least that’s what Y/N believed.

While on her own, Y/N met a family who accepted Y/N and her human quirks warmly and taught her about their planet and culture. It seemed like this was going to be a good trip. No running required.

Things took a turn when Y/N was investigating town’s shops with the families youngest daughter. Suddenly the sky darkened and everyone seemed to stop in their tracks. Listening, waiting to see what happened next. Then the creatures with guns started dropping out of the sky.

These creatures began to take out the people around Y/N one by one and, since this planet had been a peaceful one that had never experienced war, they had no defense. So Y/N took the little girl’s hand and ran towards the only place she knew they would be safe: the TARDIS.

The Doctor was waiting by the TARDIS by the time Y/N got there.

The Doctor grabbed her hand and began to drag her to the TARDIS doors. “Idiot,” he was muttering to himself, “always check the dates. Should’ve checked, should’ve known.” Y/N stopped and the Doctor finally turned his full attention to her “We have to go. Now!”

Y/N looked down at the girl who was still clingy to her arm. “No we can’t just leave. They’re defenseless. They need our help.”

Some emotion that Y/N couldn’t register crossed the Doctors eyes for a split second. Looking back now she believed the look at been pity. “We will. We’ll come back. We have to make a plan. Somewhere safe.” He bent down so that he was eye level with the little girl. “See that big building over there,” he said pointing to a building that several others were running towards. “Run there. You’ll be safe until we come back.” The little girl looked up at Y/N, who smiled and nodded, encouraging her to let go of her hand and run. The second the girl dropped Y/N’s hand the Doctor was tugging Y/N through the TARDIS doors.

“So what’s the plan?” Y/N asked while the Doctor fiddle with the control panel.

“There is no plan,” the Doctor replied shortly.

Y/N stared at him incredulously, even though he refused to look at her. “What do you mean there’s no plan? You always have a plan”

“Not this time,”

This is when the screaming and insults began flying. The Doctor tried to explain to Y/N that what was happening on that planet was set in time and that not even he could save it from its inevitable destruction, but Y/N wouldn’t listen. She called him a coward, a liar, a murderer. In turn, the Doctor called Y/N a child who understood nothing. Then out of anger, and likely the feelings of frustration and betrayal, the Doctor had landed in the present day, in some small town, and told Y/N to leave. And Y/N was so angry and hurt she did just that.

Now she stood alone on an empty street, with no sign of the Doctor.

“Are you alright?” A voice called out behind her.

Hearing this man’s footsteps striding closer to her, Y/N quickly tried to wipe the tears from her face. She didn’t need attention from a stranger. “I’m fine,” she called back, not turning to look at him.

“No you’re not,” the man replied.

Y/N spun around to tell this strange man to mind his own business but the retort soon died on her lips. The man before her seemed so…familiar, but she couldn’t figure out why. The man’s face was slightly withered and his greying hair stuck out from his head in odd directions. But it was the eyes that Y/N recognized. These eyes, which seemed to look much older than the rest of him, stared back at her, as if staring into her soul.

“Do I know you?” Y/N finally blurted out.

The man smiled sadly. “Yes and no,”

Y/N now understood why she knew those eyes. “Doctor?”

The man in front of her, the Doctor with a different face, nodded and held out his hand to her. “Let’s go for a walk, shall we?”

They walked silently through the empty street with the Doctor’s hand gripping Y/N’s lightly. She glanced up at him. “Not much of a hand holder anymore, eh?”

The Doctor cracked a small smile. “Not anymore. At least not usually. I’ll make an exception for you, though.”

The two stayed silent until they reached a seemingly abandoned park. The Doctor led Y/N to a bench and sat down. Y/N followed suit. They both stared out into the empty park before either of them spoke.

“Why do you look so sad?” Y/N inquired.

The Doctor scoffed. “Me? Sad? You’re the one who was crying,”

“I’m no sad I’m angry,” Y/N replied hotly. “But you know that don’t you? I mean, you were there. Is that why you’re here? Did it take you this long to realize that you were wrong?” She said gesturing to the Doctor’s new appearance.

“I wasn’t wrong,” Y/N opened her mouth in defense,but the Doctor held his hand up to stop her, “but I wasn’t right either. There are certain rules to time travel and certain instances in time that no one can change. I should’ve explained that to you better. I will do that, in fact. In about three hours.”

“Three hours?”

“Three hours for you. About five minutes for me. But I had to give you time to cool down. You tend to be exceptionally stubborn.” Y/N rolled her eyes but smiled slightly, knowing that she would be back in the TARDIS soon.

“You still didn’t answer my question. Why do you look so sad? And don’t lie I can see it in your eyes. And why are you here now? I’m assuming you didn’t regenerate I’m the five minutes you left me.” The Doctor refused to look at her and that’s when the realization hit Y/N. She grabbed the Doctor’s hand and forced him to look at her. “I died, didn’t I? Just now with you I died.”

Tears filled the Doctors eyes and he nodded. “I’m so sorry,”

“At least it was sudden. At least I’m guessing that the reason you’re here. You didn’t get to say goodbye.��

The Doctor ran a hand through his unruly hair before responding. “You were always too perceptive for you’re own good.” The Doctor hesitated. “You were so brave all the way up until the end. Every adventure we went on, no matter how terrifying or dangerous it was, you were right by my side. You never backed down. It’s one of the many reasons I fell in love with you.” Y/N eyes widened slightly and her grip on the Doctor’s hand tightened. She never would’ve imagined that the Doctor could have those kinds of feelings for her.

“It was like you knew you were getting close to the end,” the Doctor continued. “The day before you-the day before it happened, you gave me an absolutely perfect day. And I didn’t deserve it. But you do. You deserve one last, perfect day. And I plan on giving it to you.”

“One last perfect day,” Y/N smiled slightly. “Will this not screw up the space-time continuum or whatever?”

The Doctor smiled genuinely for the first time since he’d arrived. “I think we can risk it just this once. Whaddya say? Let me give you your perfect day?”

Despite the newfound knowledge of her impending death, Y/N grinned. “What are we waiting for?”

It truly was Y/N’s perfect day. Despite only knowing this Doctor for mere hours, Y/N felt as if she had known him her entire life. Their banter was easy, as if they’d been at if for years and the Doctor seemed to know Y/N next movements before she did. Neither of them were ready for the day to end when the TARDIS landed back in that town, right where the other Doctor had left Y/N.

“My last self should be in this exact location in about five minutes,” the Doctor said slowly walking Y/N through the front doors of the TARDIS.

“Can you tell me one thing?” Y/N asked. The Doctor nodded hesitantly. “How long do I travel with you? Roughly I mean. Obviously, I make it through at least one more generation.”

The Doctor was silent for several moments, contemplating the best way to answer the question. “Out of all of my companions, you stay with me the longest.”

“Good. At least we had a good run,” Y/N reached up and gave the Doctor a kiss. Her first kiss with him and inevitably his last. “Goodbye, Doctor,”

“Goodbye, Y/N”

She watched the TARDIS disappear into the air. Seconds later another TARDIS appeared. Another Doctor, Y/N’s Doctor in the blue pinstriped suit appeared in the doorway with an outstretched hand. This hand was a peace offering, an apology, a new beginning for the both of them.

Y/N smiled and took the Doctor’s hand.

#10th doctor x reader #tenth doctor x reader #12th doctor x reader #twelfth doctor x reader #doctor who imagine #10th doctor imagine #12th doctor imagine

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itsuki-minamy · 4 years ago

Text

“SIX IDOLS”

CHAPTER 4: “THE PROBLEM OF KUSANAGI IZUMO WITH WOMEN” (Complete)

* K - Six Idols (List of Chapters) * Projects & Chapters

Translation: Naru-kun Raws: Ridia

At that time, Izumo Kusanagi had just returned from shopping for the bar HOMRA.

Bar HOMRA is like an idol lounge in "Homura Entertainment Office". It is a place of relaxation for the idols belonging to the group with strong horizontal connections and at the same time it is also a place for the staff to enjoy the drink. In particular, Kusanagi's skill as a bartender was highlighted and there were many enthusiasts in the industry.

A hideaway-like resting place for the same liquor lovers Kusanagi meets at the bar HOMRA.

Then, the moment he entered the bar, Kusanagi noticed the atmosphere.

"Guys, what's wrong with you?"

It seemed that several idols were near the couch seats in a corner of the bar and were discussing something. They looked at Kusanagi when he entered the bar, then they looked back and started secretly talking about something.

Kusanagi frowned.

In the world of entertainment, the hierarchical relationship between seniors and juniors is absolute, and it is impossible to make eye contact but not say hello. No matter how long they are in the office, tolerating their current attitude is even worse for them. He had to make things clear here.

Kusanagi put the shopping bag on the counter and shrugged angrily and approached them. When he clenched his fist, Misaki Yata, one of the idols, suddenly stood up and looked at Kusanagi.

"Kusanagi-san, I have something I want to ask."

Kusanagi was embarrassed by the angry voice. Yata is a loyal and sincere person. He had never seen him get so mad at himself.

Looking closely, the idols behind him, Rikio Kamamoto, Eric Surt, and Yo Chitose, looked at Kusanagi with guilty eyes.

"What?"

"This that is written, is it true?"

Taking the magazine spread out on the table, Yata placed it in front of Kusanagi.

In the magazine he says:

"Homura Performing Arts Office" staff. Izumo Kusanagi midnight orgy! Sexual harassment is insanity against underage idols!"

Kusanagi's mouth fell open.

Meanwhile, Yata approaches the magazine with an indignant expression.

"What are you doing? Is that true? If so, I can't stand it! I knew Kusanagi-san loved women, but more than anything, you're an idol! I never thought you were that kind of person?!"

After hitting Yata's head with his fist, Kusanagi took the magazine. It was a weekly magazine with a reputation for scandal articles from animators. He turned the pages as he felt cold sweat running down his cheeks.

That day…

About a month ago, the day the movie where Kusanagi appeared was released. At the commemorative party that brought the people involved together, Kusanagi had a drink, sexually harassed all the actresses and female staff in line, then took an underage idol he liked and went to the bar next to the stairs, and he finally disappeared into a city hotel with the girl.

"It is a hoax!"

Kusanagi threw the weekly magazine on the ground.

As he rubs his beaten head, Yata looked at Kusanagi.

"Are you sure?"

"Obviously! Do you think I'm such a person?"

"You are a lover of women."

"You are a healthy person."

"You are kind to everyone."

Kamamoto, Eric, and Chitose responded.

"You guys…"

Kusanagi spoke desperately. Yata took the magazine and hit him. He couldn't find the color of the joke in his eyes.

"At first, we thought that Kusanagi-san couldn't do this, but when I thought about it, it was true that Kusanagi-san was drunk and he came back like that about a month ago."

"Kusanagi-san, you are normally calm, but when you get drunk, I think you can become a conqueror. So I wondered if it was something like that."

The eyes of the youths pierced Kusanagi. Kusanagi was full of words and looked at each of them.

"Please remember. Do you really remember?"

"Well, wait. Let's remember for a moment."

Kusanagi opened his PDA and active the calendar application.

One month ago. Certainly, there was a record of attendance at the commemorative kick-off party. That said, he had gone to parties three times that week alone. In the current situation where President Suoh is not, Kusanagi is the actual leader of "Homura Entertainment Office" and also plays the role of manager of his idols. There were more relationships within the natural industry and more opportunities to drink.

That's right, if you get drunk, you'll be in a good mood. Not that he has never lost his memory. There is no doubt that he likes women who value themselves and others, and if he sees a beautiful woman at a party, he is the type to speak positively. However, no matter how drunk he is, sexual harassment is serious business.

"Kusanagi-san? Did you?"

Yata proclaimed holding the magazine looking like a prosecutor. Kusanagi had been exhibiting for a while, but when he opened his eyes, he seemed to be ready.

"If it's just a light body touch, maybe..."

"After all, you did!"

"It's the worst! Kusanagi-san, you are the worst!"

"It's the name 'Homura'! Clear your head now and hold an apology press conference."

Kusanagi was quick to contain the young people who denounce him.

"Okay, wait! Guys, listen to the story to the end! It's true, I made friends with a grown actress, but I would never date a minor idol!"

"I cannot believe it!"

"You are a liar, Kusanagi-san!"

"Womanizer!"

"Sex stalker!"

He hits Yata's head again. Kusanagi yelled, ignoring the protest "Why am I the only one?"

"I'm not lying! I have that kind of sense! Anyway, if you're an actress, you shake hands with idols! Have they never done that?"

"I don't know about Kusanagi-san's female itinerary!"

"Really! Trust me! We are friends!"

The words were sucked into the air of the bar with an eerie sound.

Yata muttered as he clenched his fist.

"That's right. We are friends. If you can't believe what your friends say, you're done."

"Sorry, Kusanagi-san. We only have blood on our heads."

"I want to get close to a beautiful woman, and any man can do it."

"No, I think it's just Chitose and Kusanagi-san."

Through Eric's calm plunge, Kusanagi shuddered.

"Did you get it?"

"However, if so, this magazine is joking. It wrote a rumor that has no roots or foundations like this! Kusanagi-san, let's go to the editorial department to complain!"

Yata was outraged and threw the magazine on the table. Kusanagi had to stop him this time.

"So you want them to say what they want?"

Kusanagi shakes his head at Kamamoto's words.

"Of course, I will protest. But it will take the form of an official announcement from the office. The pen is mightier than the sword."

"Well, if Kusanagi-san says so, it can't be helped."

Yata appeared to be dissatisfied. Injustice cannot be forgiven. Kusanagi laughed as if he was impressive, as his righteousness was like Yata's.

"But why did this article appear?"

Kusanagi shook his head as he took the magazine.

It is an exaggeration to say that there are no roots or foundations, but it is true that he does not remember it. If so, is it someone's conspiracy? The first thing that came to mind was the face of the "Green Idol King", but he immediately denied it. That guy would be a little more elaborate and aim for "Blue" or "Gold" first.

No matter how much he thought about it, he couldn't come to a conclusion. Kusanagi stopped shaking his head and tried to put the magazine back on the table.

It was then that the bar bell rang.

"Oh, Totsuka-san! Anna!"

Yata greeted happily. At the entrance to the bar, he saw all the faces he knew.

Totsuka Tatara and Anna Kushina.

Like Kusanagi, Totsuka is the oldest member of "Homura Entertainment Office". A light-skinned boy who always smiles, but was born into extreme poverty to the level of eating wild grass, and was shot with a pistol by an avid fan and wandered between life and death.

Anna is the only girl idol in "Homura". Although she is only 12 years old, her singing ability is outstanding and she is in charge of the voice of the group "No Blood".

For some reason, she has been in the position of president since the former president, Mikoto Suoh, moved to the United States, but of course, Kusanagi is doing most of the work because it parallels her studies.

When they saw Kusanagi, they made the strongest faces for some reason.

"Izumo."

Anna spoke to him. She had something to say, but she didn't know how to say it. Anna, who usually does not express her emotions, was looking at him sadly somewhere.

"Don't do it, Anna."

"Anna. I'll ask him around here, so go over there, okay?"

Totsuka ignored Kusanagi and made a soft voice. Anna had been comparing the two to a funny face for a while, but she finally ran off to the bar.

Totsuka approached Kusanagi. His kind face unusually was not laughing. When he reached Kusanagi's eyes, he muttered with eyes lowered in pain.

"Oh, Kusanagi-san, I knew you love girls, but I never thought you would get close to minors."

"You too?"

Kusanagi involuntarily pushed him away. Totsuka was orderly. Kamamoto explained with a bitter smile.

"Well, we get it wrong. It's an entertainment magazine scandal, right? But Kusanagi-san's mouth tells me it's a complete hoax."

"Hey, are you making noise in the entertainment magazines?"

Totsuka said anxiously, but Kusanagi felt a hundred times more anxious.

"But…" What was wrong?

"Are you making noise elsewhere?"

Chitose spoke for everyone's ideas. When Totsuka looked at the others in turn, he made a small face and took the PDA out of his pocket.

"Yes. You are doing it right now."

Then, Totsuka projected the image of the PDA.

It was a video of a press conference. In a place like a hotel lobby, people who appear to be related are swaying in a row. In the center is a female idol who, of course, is underage and looks embarrassed.

"So when did you start dating Izumo Kusanagi?"

A sharp question flew out of the reporter.

The female idol was silent for a moment, but when she blushed and turned her eyes slightly, she made a good voice.

"Oh, yeah, I've been dating him since last month."

So is.

Kusanagi felt that the sensitive temperature of the bar had dropped below freezing.

++++++++++

He really doesn't hate being seen by women with cold eyes.

Of course he has always liked to be seen with hot eyes, but cold eyes are not so bad. It is often said that the opposite of love is indifference, and cold disgust and contempt are a type of "interest." You can repaint it with a different color. It is better than indifference.

However, that also has limits.

That day, Seri Awashima turned to Kusanagi, piercing him with the cold and staring at him at absolute zero.

"Good morning, Seri-chan."

At the regular theater studio, Awashima had a meeting with the staff. Until then, she should have responded calmly, but the moment she saw Kusanagi, all of her emotions were lost from Awashima.

"Good morning, Kusanagi-san."

As if drawing a sword, Awashima averted her eyes from Kusanagi. The expression on her profile is like ice, but Kusanagi, who has seen many women, read the phrase "Don't ever talk to me again, lolicon." hidden under the thin skin.

There was a crack in his heart.

However, Kusanagi swallowed it and went one step further. If she throws him away with that degree of rejection (although it's terrible), a loving woman's name will be broken.

Above all, this problem cannot be solved by pulling him here.

"Oh, can't I have some time? There's something I want to talk about."

"I'm sorry, but I'm about to record, so I'm sorry."

It was a line that flowed unhindered. Although somewhere in his heart he was impressed that she was the actress of the current generation, the relentless one that she does not stop treading.

"Isn't filming finished? I checked. It's just a little while."

"Did you check it?"

Awashima made an expression as if he had touched the kitchen waste. His heart was about to shatter with a screech.

However, Kusanagi was forced to smile.

"Oh, I looked it up. After all, Seri-chan is the right person to solve my problem now."

It was a lithe smile, but Awashima only frowned. Or it may have been a manifestation of anger against the background of cold contempt.

"Problem? No way, it's not the scandal with that girl, is it?"

He had to answer carefully. If he gave a bad answer, Awashima would get rid of Kusanagi and never turn around again.

After thinking about it for a second, Kusanagi replied.

"Trust me, Seri-chan. They framed me."

Awashima looked at Kusanagi.

Kusanagi stares into his eyes. The smile has already disappeared. Now is the time to show the "real blow".

If he gets rid of it, even for a moment, Awashima will instantly see him.

Finally, Awashima turned her back on Kusanagi and started walking.

"……"

Kusanagi closed his eyes and gritted his teeth. As long as he couldn't get Awashima's cooperation, he thought there was no way he could.

"What are you doing?"

"Eh?"

When he looked up, Awashima looked back a few steps away. From the terrible facial expression, the aforementioned contempt faded and the expression that seemed astonished returned.

"I don't want to get caught up in the scandal. Let's go somewhere hidden."

For the first time in a few days, Kusanagi's expression glowed again.

++++++++++

"Hanazono Kaon, 16 years old. A female idol belonging to "Alaha Productions". At first, she seems like she was an underground idol, but she made her big debut a year ago and she seems to be very active."

As she manipulated her PDA, Awashima said that clearly.

In terms of information processing capacity, there is no office that exceeds "Promotion Center 4". Perhaps it is the intention of the president, Reisi Munakata, to take over every corner of the entertainment world like a labyrinth. Kusatsu is also familiar with the situation, but if he wants information about the "enemy", it is natural for him to be more precise.

Kusanagi repeated Awashima's words.

"Alaha Productions."

"Needless to say, it is unofficial. Currently, there are only four government-approved offices in the industry."

As she cleaned the PDA, Awashima looked at Kusanagi.

"The unofficial offices are cobbled. Of course, there are many idol offices that may be small, but 'Alaha' is more like a stone. People come and go, and some financial problems happen. It's an office I don't want to have too close."

"Well, that's correct."

"Kusanagi-kun? Once again, you have nothing to do with this office, do you?"

Kusanagi shook his head slowly at Awashima's serious gaze.

"I remember hearing the name 'Alaha Productions'. I certainly knew this girl."

Kusanagi quickly excused himself when he saw Awashima's expression turn steep.

"No, no, don't get me wrong. But surely, I was greeted by this girl and the manager of 'Alaha Productions'."

A month ago, at a commemorative movie party.

The film in which Kusanagi appeared is a series that enjoys a considerable degree of popularity among Japanese films, and naturally many people from the industry gathered at the commemorative party.

Kusanagi played a central role in the party. Originally a sociable person with many connections. He brought the actors the producer was watching, spoke peacefully with the presidents of the investment companies, and discussed the work with the director.

"Did you meet this girl?"

"Oh. I was with the manager, and a newcomer who just debuted, so he told me to cheer her up."

"Well, from your point of view, there are a lot of people like that."

Kusanagi vaguely occupies the image of a famous idol with many connections. There are many people who are willing to participate in the title and they are swept away. Hanazono Kaon and "Alaha Productions", he didn't remember them and when he tried to do it, his head hurt.

Awashima crossed her arms to think.

"So it's easy to talk about it. A publicity stunt scandal is something a bad agency might think of. You can think of many ways to deal with it."

"That's correct, but…"

"Homura Entertainment Office" is one of only four official offices in this country. Its status, honor and power distinguish it from unauthorized offices (so it can be involved in such disasters). Regardless of what's wrong with this, there is no gamble on wielding its power to dispel the falling sparks.

Still, something was trapped in Kusanagi's heart.

Awashima saw it precisely. Mysteriously she looked at him and said.

"What are you wondering? If you are the usual person, you will act immediately."

"……"

Kusanagi closed his eyes and tried to remember.

About a girl named Hanazono Kaon who came to see him with her manager at the party venue.

"That girl couldn't speak at all."

"What?"

"Even in front of me, she was nervous and she made her face bright red. It was just what the manager said and she couldn't say much of anything. All she could say was a greeting."

"I don't think so, but you…"

Awashima said that, in a tone that made him wonder from the bottom of his heart.

"Isn't it said that you caught the attention of Hanazono Kaon?"

Instead of answering, Kusanagi scratched his cheek and looked away from her.

Awashima sighed deeply.

"Do you know who the other person is? Someone tries to take advantage of you, either with a scandal or a fire. If you give affection to such a person, you will be unilaterally hurt."

Awashima's words are correct. Kusanagi knows better than anyone that he can be eaten by showing a breach in the devilish world of the entertainment world.

But still…

"Idols are what light people's hearts."

Kusanagi said that in a low voice.

"I'm not saying there should be a norm for people, but in front of Kokujoji. For us, a simple story, it makes someone smile. It makes someone brilliant. I think, if I could do that, I would be older."

"……"

"I'm sure she wanted to be like that too. I want to be an idol, and I want to become an idol and give energy to all the fans. I think I thought so."

"But now Hanazono Kaon is betraying her fans. Anyone who wants to lie and lift her name is not qualified to be an idol."

Awashima was always calm. Kusanagi also has no intention of putting it there.

"That's why I want to know. Hanazono Kaon, the true heart of that girl."

Awashima opened her eyes slightly and looked at Kusanagi.

She then she shook her head as it was hopeless.

"I thought you were a bit more rational, but apparently you were just pretending."

"I'm also a "Homura Entertainment Office" idol."

Kusanagi jokingly saying that, Awashima shrugged and returned the gesture.

"Well, it's your problem, so you can do whatever you want. At best, behave however you want. But don't fly here."

"Of course. Thank you, Seri-chan."

Instead of answering, Awashima shook his hand and left.

"Well, now…"

Kusanagi looked at the PDA, handled it lightly, and requested her contact information.

++++++++++

"No! I'm glad you had a press conference, Kaon-chan."

Hanazono Kaon felt a reflection of disgust for the manager who was smiling on the room couch.

On the one hand, she was grateful to him. She uploaded song and dance videos on the internet, and she was so happy and excited with the number of views and the number of people registered, that she made her big debut. She has never doubted that skill or policy.

Up to now.

"That's why you have been interviewed by several performing arts magazines, but can I accept all of them? I also posted information that I had not published before, so I'm sure it will be a great promotion."

"That…"

Intercepting the manager's words that he is good at it, Hanazono Kaon squeezed her skirt tightly.

"Yes?" Hanazono Kaon caught the manager's gaze. She was not good at seeing someone's eyes and speaking. She can sing and dance in front of a lot of people, but when she goes out in front of people, she hangs out. Hanazono Kaon was such a girl.

Finally, as usual, the manager read what the phrase meant and shrugged as if he was in awe.

"What? Maybe you still feel bad? Kusanagi Izumo asked for it."

"Okay."

Hanazono Kaon barely replied, the manager giggled. He took the cigarette out of his pocket and lit it.

"Kaon-chan, you're also a professional, so let's be a little more illustrious. It's fine, but since he's a celebrity there, he's used to this scandal."

"So is."

"Isn't that the case? So what? Betrayal of the fans?"

Kaon's voice was violently dominated. Like using Kusanagi, what hurts the most is that some fans feel hurt by her love reports.

But even at that, the manager laughed.

"Ahahahahaha! Do you care about that? Okay, because if you become famous, they will follow you! Rather, the fans so far are just a burden to Kaon-chan who will be great in the future. I'm thankful that you were."

It wasn't from the cigarette smoke that she suddenly felt congested, it was from anger.

He laughed at the fans who have supported her so far and cut off her efforts to do so without fear. She felt angry at her manager as if she had been stomped on the back of her chest.

The more the muscles in her hands stretched, the tighter she held her skirt with a noise. When he realized that, the smile on the manager's face faded.

"What is that face? I'll tell you."

The manager stood up. That only made him sound terrifying and she backed away. The adults were scary and the men were even more scary. The manager sighed as he approached Kaon with her back against the wall.

"Kaon-chan, you are also an accomplice, right?"

With just that word, she felt her entire body weaken.

"No, I can say that I am the main culprit. You read the script that I wrote on my own initiative. Whether I betray the fans or use Izumo Kusanagi, Kaon-chan said, "I want to do that.", do you blame everything on me?"

"Ah, uh..."

"What's the difference? You said you wanted to be more famous and shine more, right, Kaon-chan. I just set it up to be able to do that."

The manager laughed deeply, putting his hands on both of Kaon's shoulders that she couldn't say anything.

"It's natural, isn't it? Because I'm Kaon-chan's manager. That's why."

His eyes narrowed and housed a beast light.

"You just have to listen to me."

The sound slipped into place. She looked down with a scared look, the manager said to Kaon.

"So, I'll take all the interviews. Read the script correctly. If you can act well, it can be treated like a drama, and it will be a hit."

After that, the manager left the room.

The manager's points are all correct from one to ten.

She wanted to be famous. It's been a year since she made her debut, and she has done jobs like singles and mini-lives, but she couldn't get any results. If the title of "Rookie Idol" disappears, it will become even more severe. When the manager said that, she felt impatient as if she was on fire. What was far scarier than losing a job or going unsold was losing the dream that had been shining within her.

But was that dream only possible in this way?

Was the shine she wanted so dirty?

Kaon no longer knew what was right. She killed her voice and began to cry, burying her face between her knees.

At that moment, the PDA sounded a dial tone.

She could answer later, and now she didn't want to talk. The moment she saw the name of the caller with a blurry vision, that idea disappeared.

It was shown as "Izumo Kusanagi".

++++++++++

Seating on the balcony of a cafe facing the main street.

He was reading a paperback in a shady seat where the breeze was nice, and he giggled when he noticed Kaon had arrived.

"Hello, sorry to call suddenly."

Kaon remained in place and couldn't even make a voice.

Kusanagi Izumo, that person. Even if he is in disguise, it is not just about being aware that there is an idol as famous as him. Also, Kusanagi is in the middle of a scandal, yes, the scandal created by Kaon.

The moment she thought about it, Kaon was fragile and she wanted to apologize.

She barely stopped because she thought she would hurt him even more. She hardly notice it now, but if she attracts attention, Izumo Kusanagi will be here. If Hanazono Kaon was there with him, her scandal would be difficult to handle.

Kusanagi smiles as if to calm Kaon who is not moving, he said...

"Sit down for now. If you stay standing, we won't be able to speak calmly."

"Ok."

Kaon sat on the seat, guided by a soft voice.

Still, Kaon couldn't see Kusanagi's face properly. She lowered her head like a defendant brought out in front of a judge, or in a weak voice.

"Sorry." Kaon said.

She could only say that. She didn't expect him to forgive her. But unless she apologized, she couldn't be in front of Kusanagi again.

After a moment of silence, Kusanagi said in a low voice.

"Raise your face."

Kaon trembled as if struck and raised her face.

The form of anger she had imagined was not there.

Kusanagi had a serious expression. He looked at Kaon with a direct gaze that has never been seen in any drama in which he has appeared.

"It doesn't matter if the idol is down. The idol must always be facing forward."

Kaon forgot to breathe and looked back at Kusanagi's face.

Kusanagi smiled to ease her feelings.

"Idols cheer on their fans with their own brilliance. It's a shame that I can only cloud the brilliance of myself."

Kaon gritted her teeth and held back the tears she was about to shed.

Don't shed tears. She was not qualified to do such a thing.

Kusanagi said what an idol is. He is a person who encourages people with his own brilliance.

So she can't afford to break. No matter how boring or dirty she is, Kaon is still an idol. She couldn't have shed tears of self-pity for an apology.

With her eyes closed and the signs of suppressed tears, Kaon opened her mouth.

"I'll tell you everything."

She wanted to be an idol. She didn't want to lose the dream that she finally had. She then tried to use Kusanagi while she was impatient. She spills a scandal without foundation, and even neglecting the fans, she was the shallow girl trying to climb.

After hearing everything, Kusanagi calmly said.

"You told me all that. Thank you, Hanazono-san."

Kaon shook her head. She has done nothing to make him grateful. She was just doing something harmful to Kusanagi. She cannot complain even if she has no questions and she is excluded.

She thought a lot and suddenly it hit her.

Why did Kusanagi do that?

"Um. Why did you listen to me?"

"Eh?"

"Kusanagi-san, you must have a scandal that you don't remember. I think you should have taken a 'countermeasure' without asking about my circumstances."

Kaon looked around at the audience.

There are many customers on the open terrace. Why did he listen to her even at the risk of meeting her alone in public?

When she asked him, Kusanagi laughed lightly and...

"Well, I'm sorry. I don't want to pay for the sparks that fall on me. I will do it in formal protests with this in mind."

With that said, he stared at Kaon.

"Hanazono-san, at the party, my fans told me."

"I didn't talk much about it, maybe it's lip service. It's against my belief to eliminate fans without asking questions. Be it an idol or Izumo Kusanagi."

Kaon clenched her fist in her lap and murmured that.

"Belief…"

"Wow. My 'Homura Entertainment Office' colleagues and I, we move based on our beliefs. Of course, risk management is important. Still, there is a trade-off."

Kusanagi's gaze, looking into her heart, did not take his gaze away from Kaon. After swallowing just once, she opened her mouth.

"Even me, can I do that?"

"You can."

There was no hesitation in Kusanagi's answer.

"If you are an idol, you can always do it. You can fight for what you think is right because of your beliefs. That is the brilliance of idols."

Kusanagi said that was his belief.

Kaon saw the glow of the idol named Izumo Kusanagi there. He trusts idols and Kaon. Even though she used Kusanagi, she still hasn't lost the brilliance of the Hanazono Kaon idol, and says it based on his belief.

When she realized it, Kaon blinked.

There was no longer a trace of tears. A clear sight spread out in front of him. Izumo Kusanagi glowing, seemed to indicate to Kaon what he should do from now on.

Kaon stood up and thanked Kusanagi deeply.

"Thank you, Kusanagi-san. I already know what to do."

"You are going to do it?"

"I will speak to my manager. I will act for what I think is correct."

After resolutely stretching her back and saying it, Hanazono Kaon smiled for the first time in a long time.

"Because I am an idol."

Seeing that, Kusanagi also smiled and took control.

"Oh, yeah. Go ahead."

"Yes. Thank you. And I'm sorry for the inconvenience!"

After saying that and bowing again, Kaon left.

She no longer turned around to Kusanagi.

++++++++++

One month after Kusanagi Izumo's lover scandal.

The usual routine has returned to the bar HOMRA.

"Oh, Kusanagi-san, hello!"

Kusanagi casually replies "Hello." while he cleans a glass, Yata and Kamamoto ring the bell and enter. Joining Akagi and Bando, who were lounging on the couch, he began spreading the manga and entertainment magazines that he bought from the store while he came. Kusanagi knocked on the refrigerator door in an attempt to prepare the ingredients as he glanced at the everyday scenes.

At that moment, Yata made a strong voice.

"Oh! Kusanagi-san, there is an article about that girl!"

Kusanagi raised his face, and approached the juniors who were making noise around the couch. Akagi and Bando looked at each other and made a mysterious voice.

"Who is this girl?"

"She is Hanazono Kaon-chan."

"Hanazono...? I remember hearing somewhere..."

"A girl who became a scandal with me."

Yata handed the entertainment magazine to Kusanagi, who looked down at the table. It's a small black and white page with no photos, but it had her name on it.

"The first mini-live after breaking free from her idol office, the idol called Hanazono Kaon."

"Is she a fiery idol? This is another tough headline."

Kusanagi says with a bitter smile. Kamamoto crossed his arms with a difficult expression

"Well, it can't be helped. After that, there was a lot of noise."

Hanazono Kaon conspired with the office and invented a love scandal for the purpose of selling.

The public already knew that. None other than Hanazono Kaon herself confessed everything in the interview she received.

Thanks to that, the stigma of Kusanagi dissipated, but the wrath of the world turned to "Alaha Productions". Hanazono Kaon has announced that she will be leaving the office and continuing her activities as an independent underground idol. Criticism focused on her, but she never said that she would stop being an idol.

Then a week later, and two weeks later, new news broke out in the entertainment world and her name was no longer remembered.

"But, I'm not convinced. According to Kusanagi-san, that girl isn't bad, right?"

"No, that's not true. Even if the office told her, it doesn't change the fact that that girl used Kusanagi-san for her own convenience. It's her own business."

"Yata-san, you're too strict! She couldn't help herself, if the office told her."

"Huh?! So, if your office tells you to die, will you die?"

"Please stop, that way of speaking is like that of an elementary school student!"

"Who is an elementary school student?"

Yata puts a key on Kamamoto's head. Akagi and Bando rush to stop him. Kusanagi thinks as he reads the article with such fuss.

Could she act on his own beliefs?

Kusanagi has not been in contact with Hanazono Kaon since they met at the cafe. So he doesn't know exactly what kind of interaction she had with the manager or the office. At least from what he saw in the interview article, Hanazono Kaon clearly acknowledged her responsibility. She said that she used Kusanagi of her own free will, rather than blaming the manager or the office.

Idols inspire their fans with their brilliance. What Hanazono Kaon did was, in that sense, betray the fans.

But at the same time, the idol is a human being. She may get lost or discouraged. Kusanagi thinks that how to act in those moments determines the value of the idol.

Hopefully she's lucky, Kusanagi thought.

So that she doesn't regret her actions.

The doorbell rang again. When he looked back at the door, he was about to see Totsuka enter.

He had an envelope in one hand. Totsuka shook him while he laughed softly.

"Kusanagi-san. The letter has arrived."

When he received it and turned it over, he couldn't find the signature.

Anonymous letters, etc. should not be opened. However, he had a premonition at the time. When he opened the inside, it was written with a fine brush.

Izumo Kusanagi:

Please forgive me for the sudden letter. I thought that I shouldn't talk to Kusanagi-san because I had done such a thing in some way, so I refrained from contacting you, but now that my personal situation has calmed down, I would like to apologize and report back, so I am thanking you in writing.

After telling the truth and leaving the office, I disappointed many fans. Most of the fans have abandoned me. Looking at the disappointed faces of the fans, I once wondered if I could stay as an idol or if I should retire.

Still, some fans said that they still wanted to see me as an idol. They told me not to stop as an idol because they would keep supporting me no matter what.

Kusanagi-san said that idols can fight for what they think is right, and that belief makes them shine.

Now I think the right thing for me is to do everything possible for the fans. As long as there is at least one person who supports me, I will not stop being an idol.

Then I will continue to be an idol. I want to reach as many people as possible with my previously dull brilliance. Like Kusanagi-san said, never look down, look ahead.

Thanks for telling me that. And I am very sorry for the inconvenience.

Hanazono Kaon.

"Hey, I'm not a good boy."

Totsuka, who was watching from the side, said such a thing. Kusanagi put the letter in his pocket and poked his head out.

"Letters from people, you are stealing."

"Ah, I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Kusanagi-san, so I wonder what happened."

Kusanagi smiles bitterly when Totsuka's fluffy smile catches him. Totsuka took the entertainment magazine and said as a soliloquy.

"Is it a mini-live? I'm a bit worried too. Let's see it."

"Oh, go ahead. Better to have as many clients as possible."

"Won't you go, Kusanagi-san?"

Kusanagi laughs a little and shakes his head.

"When I went, I made her worry more. I'll do it without being stingy at first."

Kusanagi remembered the text of the letter, shrugged slightly and said.

"I already know the brilliance of that girl."

#K #k project #k fan clan #k six idols #six idols #izumo kusanagi #k

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