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anaveragebibliophile · 3 years ago

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Impossible

Carlisle Cullen x OC

Summary: Carlisle and his mate Eloise receive some shocking news that they weren’t necessarily prepared to deal with regarding her health. Instead of seeing what’s right in front of him, Carlisle believes that his wife’s health issues are stemming from other avenues. It isn’t until his wife makes a discovery that he alters his course of action.

Note: This is a deviation from what I normally post, but I hope that all of you will take the chance and give it a read. :)

“I can’t even believe this is happening again. And with your wife of all people!” Jacob Black shouted as he walked into the Cullen family’s wide, contemporary kitchen.

“Jacob, we’ve discussed this. Eloise isn’t like us. She isn’t a vampire, she’s a phoenix. As such, she’s capable of resurrecting the dead, the broken, the ill-equipped parts of us that are theoretically unsalvageable. And as things stand, we all know I’m infertile. Or that I was.” Carlisle explained. “Believe me, I’m just as overwhelmed as you are. Even more so because I’m still struggling to accept the fact that I helped someone--the woman I adore more than anything else on this earth--procreate.”

And it’s not like the couple had been trying either. Quite the opposite actually. Sure, both of them had done ample amounts of research--through legends and the like--to determine whether or not they would need to take precautions before having intercourse. From what little they could find, it appeared that exercising the freedom of caution was the best choice. Not only had pregnancies been reported, multiple births seemed to be a common occurrence. And even though Carlisle was reluctant to put his faith into these infinitesimal references, he still did what any self-respecting man would do: He made sure his strong, confident wife made the final decision about what she wanted to do. At the end of the day, her body would have been doing the brunt of the work had a pregnancy occurred.

Eloise thought long and hard about this and would even go so far as to test herself. Did she want a child? Yes. Would she be a genuinely good mother? She hoped so. But the ultimate question remained: did she want a child with Carlisle? More than anything else in the world. However, it just didn’t seem like the right time. The pack was going through organizational disputes, the Volturi were still trying to find ways to get her and Alice to join their coven, and Bella and Edward were in the process of adopting a child. There was just too much happening around her for that to work out. Or so she thought at that moment.

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About two months later, she started feeling a bit off-kilter. She was suffering from myriad migraine headaches, her stomach always seemed to be queasy, and she was dealing with some intense bouts of insomnia (which she had never experienced as a child or even during her adult life). Her husband was increasingly worried about her. So much so that he would have her in his office every day for testing. At that point, he was looking for a dormant autoimmune disease, cancer, anything that would highlight these symptoms. What he wasn’t looking for was a pregnancy, a fertilized egg within his wife.

One night, while the rest of the family was out hunting, Eloise and Carlisle were cuddling on the couch, her head in his lap. He was running his long, cool fingers through her hair and down her back, intermittently trying to coax her into eating a small piece of toast that he’d made for her. Yet every attempt didn’t do much. Regardless, he was hoping she would get her appetite back soon because her skin had started to take on a translucent pallor that he despised.

“Come on, honey, just one bite. That’s all I’m asking for,” Carlisle said, putting the plate in front of her face.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart, but I’m just not hungry. The entire idea of food is revolting. Plus, I don’t really want to repeat what happened a few hours ago.” Carlisle hummed in understanding. While he knew that Eloise was being sincere, he wasn’t pleased that she was still feeling so fatigued and nauseated.

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A few hours ago, as he was attending to a broken rib of Seth’s at the reservation, he received a call from Alice. ‘Eloise has been throwing up for the last forty minutes, Carlisle. She didn’t want to worry you,’ she’d started. ‘But you need to get back here now. I’ve been sitting with her, and I’m worried she’s getting dehydrated.’ Heart in his throat, he quickly finished his session with Seth, letting him know that he had an emergency that he needed to attend to.

After parking the car, he ran into the house, heading straight for his and Eloise’s bedroom. And when he walking into the adjoining bathroom, he was shocked by what he saw: his wife, her cheek smashed against the toilet seat, breathing heavily in order to avoid another onset of nausea. In his peripheral, he saw Alice lightly rubbing Eloise’s back with her left hand and murmuring comforting words to her.

Instinctively, Carlisle moved towards his wife and took Alice’s place as the caretaker. “Hi, sweetheart. Alice called and said you weren’t feeling well. Can you tell me what’s been bothering you?” he asked, gently kneading the taut muscles in her lean back.

Eloise slowly pulled her face away from the toilet bowl and looked at him blearily. “My stomach just isn’t feeling super fantastic at the moment. I don’t know why, but I can’t seem to keep anything down. I haven’t been able to since about two o’clock this afternoon.”

“Well, you haven’t been at your best recently. Do you think that may have something to do with it?”

“Perhaps. But I haven’t had this happen before. Yes, I’ve experienced nausea and some stomach cramping, but it never ended with me vomiting for hours on end.”

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And that was what still puzzled Carlisle in this moment. Why was this happening to her when nothing was physically wrong? She didn’t have AGID nor was there any evidence of malignant tumor growth. She wasn’t running a fever nor was she displaying any signs of infection. So what could it be? He was determined to find out.

He lightly ran the pad of his right thumb over Eloise’s cheek. “Sweet girl, I think it’s time that I do an ultrasound on your stomach. Maybe that will give us some answers. What do you say?”

“Alright. You’ll probably have to carry me though. I haven’t been doing well vertically,” she said, slightly smiling.

“Your wish is my command.”

He proceeded to carefully--oh, so carefully--move her head off his lap and onto a pillow (as a replacement). Then, when he was completely erect, he swiftly leaned forward and placed his forearms underneath Eloise’s lumbar vertebrae and upper thighs. Once she was secured in his arms, he gently kissed her cheek and proceeded to move them into his office, the one room in the house both of them have grown to resent.

Placing her on the exam table, he grazed his hand through her bangs in the hope of soothing the anxiety that was coursing through her. “It’ll be alright. You know I would never hurt you. Never.”

“I know. It’s not that. I just don’t want anything to be wrong. I want to be healthy,” she said, her voice on the verge of breaking.

“You will be. I’ll make sure of it,” Carlisle responds as he pressed his forehead against hers.

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Eloise smiled wanly as her husband went through his check-up regimen: ears, eyes, nose, throat, body temperature, blood pressure, then reflexes. While she may complain every now and then about his overprotectiveness, she really does feel so grateful and lucky to be married to a man whose compassion and kindness are limitless. This man always makes her feel valued, appreciated, and heard, especially apart from the rest of the world. And these are things that will never go unnoticed by her. He will never go unnoticed by her.

“How are things looking, Doctor Cullen?” she asked. “Am I passing inspection?”

Carlisle lightly laughed at her attempt at a joke. “So far things are looking good. I think we’re about ready to do the abdominal ultrasound and see what things are looking like down there.”

He moved over to his white, sterile metal cart that held the handheld ultrasound. The plan was for Carlisle to put the clear lubricant on her belly, place the ultrasound on it, and then wait for the image to connect to the screen to his right. From there, he’ll see if there are any obstructions or issues.

“Are you ready, honey?” he asked. “If it’s too cold, just let me know.”

Eloise held her two thumbs up. “I’m ready. Let’s do it.”

The exam began. For a period of time, the sound and echo waves were all they could hear. Eloise was holding her breath. Carlisle’s face was pinched, his eyes and ears hyper-focused on the task. Until the heartbeat-like echo struck back at them.

His wife lifted her hand to stop him from continuing with the examination. “What was that?” she queried.

“I don’t know, darling. I don’t know.” he said. “Let’s try again and see if we get the same feedback.”

He continued his inspection but still received the same results. The heartbeat was unlike any he heard before (besides his wife’s): strong, pure, yet calm in its essence. Before he could ponder any other reasonings behind this strange occurrence, Eloise interrupted him. “Carlisle, we both know that’s a heartbeat. You can question it and try to find other avenues to follow, but you know the truth. And a heartbeat can only mean one thing,” she smiled, so big that her dimples were more pronounced than ever before. “We’re pregnant. My magic enabled us to create a baby.”

He took her hand and kissed the inside of her wrist. “We don’t know that.”

“But we do. Carlisle, all the signs have been pretty prevalent these last few weeks. I just never thought to associate them with pregnancy because we agreed we would wait to start trying. I guess the universe had other plans.”

“Eloise, honey…”

“You know it’s true. I do because I can feel our child. Now, after all this time, he or she has decided to make their presence known. The energy I feel--the positivity and contentment I’m now carrying in this moment--is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced.”

Carlisle looked at her, stunned. If she can feel their child, how could he dispute that? How could he challenge what she (and he) knew to be true in all its unlikelihood? It wasn’t like this was entirely impossible, especially after reading about other couples’ experiences. Couples like them.

Eloise took his moment of consideration to move his hand to her tummy. “I know it’s hard to come to terms with right now because we weren’t sure how true the reports were, but I think it’s time we start believing in them. Carlisle, you’re going to be a father, and I’m going to be a mother. We’re going to finally have the opportunity to expand our family.”

Hearing those words made Carlisle outright grin. They had been waiting for this moment for so long that he never believed it would ever actually happen. But now, he has everything he could ever want in the palm of his hand.

“Well, it would appear that way,” he said, leaning over his wife to give her a heart-stopping kiss. “And I must add that I’m excruciatingly happy. Thank you, sweetheart.”

#twilight #newmoon #eclipse #breaking dawn #pregnancy #phoenix #vampire #carlisle cullen #carlisle x reader #bella swan #edward cullen #jacob black #wolves #alice cullen #love #marriage #romance #babies

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wiypt-writes · 4 years ago

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Riding High

Ch21: The Truth ‘Bill’ Out…

Chapter Summary: Fliss and Frank both struggle to deal with the aftermath of their break up.

Chapter Warnings: Bad Language words.

Chapter Pairings: Frank Adler x OFC Fliss Gallagher

A/N: Ok, I’m sorry I upset you with the last chapter…

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Fliss Gallagher and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Riding High Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Chapter 20

Take a shot in the rain, one for the pain, and listen up

Frank woke the next morning fully clothed on the sofa. Squinting, he groaned at the pain in his head, scrambling to find his phone. As he swiped it to cancel his alarm, his thumb paused as he glanced at the photo of Fliss and Mary on the screen. Swallowing he turned the screen off, tossed his phone onto the table and pushed himself up, trudging to the shower.

He had spent most of the night drinking the expensive scotch his mother had bought him, trying to understand what had happened. He had tried to call Fliss, messaged her but her response had been a single text telling him she was sorry and requesting that he respect her decision. The worst thing had been trying to explain to Mary. Frank didn't believe in lying to her, certainly not if he could help it, but he had completely chickened out and told her that Fliss had some paperwork to do and would be staying at the annex for the night. Mart had accepted this, and it had bought him enough time to figure out what the fuck he was going to say.

He stumbled into the shower and then decided that the state his head was in he wasn't going to function in work. So once he was dried and had awoken Mary, he called his supervisor and said he had a migraine so wouldn't be in. He then made Mary a sandwich and then once she was packed off on the bus he turned and headed back home.

Once in the living room he looked around. It was littered with reminders of her. Photos, a hoody draped over the back of the chair, those fucking scatter cushions on the sofa. It was screaming at Frank to get rid if it all, but he couldn't. Not yet. He was still clinging to something desperate hope that she would come back, explaining what had happened and they'd work through it.

And then there was a knock at the door. He paused for a moment, before it opened and a familiar voice called his name.

"Frank? Son?"

He turned to face Bill as he walked through the door.

"She sent you for her stuff?" Frank asked and Bill eyed him for a moment before he shook his head.

"No. She hasn't. And, well even if she asked me to come get it I wouldn't...this is her mess, not mine."

Frank looked at him for a moment before he shrugged and headed into the kitchen grabbing the coffee from the cupboard.

"So what are you here for, Bill?"

"Honestly?" Bill raised his eyebrows, "to see how you were..."

"Fucking marvellous." Frank said, slamming the cupboard shut. "M’girlfriend's left me, giving me no reason, I'm hungover to shit and at some point today I gotta figure out what I tell Mary."

He leaned back against the kitchen counter and pinched his nose before he scrubbed his hand down his face.

"How is she?" Frank looked at Bill. Bill sighed and shook his head.

"Hardly said a word since she came home yesterday evening." Bill shrugged. "Other than to tell she had ended things with you, that it was her decision and she wasn't going into it."

"She didn’t go into it with me either so..." Frank snorted, shaking his head. "So if you've come to find out what’s going on I can't help you because I don’t know."

"No, honestly Frank...I meant it when I said I came to see how you were. V and I were worried..."

Frank was about to shoot some sarcastic response back but when he saw Bill's face was arranged with genuine concern he simply shrugged and looked down, shaking his head.

"I love her, Bill...and I thought things were going great. I just don't understand."

With a sigh Bill stepped forward and gripped Frank's shoulder.

"I'm really mad at her Frank." Bill sighed. "But I know she’s hurting too...don't give up on her. Not just yet."

Frank scratched at his head as Bill released his grip on his shoulder. "She made it quite clear she doesn’t want to see me or talk to me.”

"She doesn’t know what she wants" Bill shook his head. "All am asking is that you at least try to talk to her."

"I need time too, Bill." Frank sighed. "I'm angry and upset myself. I can't face her yet. It’s gonna be bad enough taking Mary up to see Monty..."

"I know." Bill nodded. “And if you ever want me to take Mary instead so you don’t have to, certainly for the time being, I'm happy to do so."

Frank nodded. “Thanks Bill."

"Well you know where to find me." Bill shrugged as he took a deep breath. “Look, you know me and Verity love you and Mary, we really do. Verity’s besides herself at the possibility you’re not gonna be in our lives again, and-“

He trailed off and Frank saw a flicker of worry flash across the older man's face.

"Bill..." Frank shook his head gently. "I'll not stop you and Verity seeing Mary. As long as you're happy to do so. I just, well I just don’t want it to be awkward for you and Fliss, meaning there's to be a point later where you leave her life too. She’s had enough turmoil over the last twelve months to last a lifetime ..."

"No I get that." Bill nodded. “And thanks Frank. You're a good man."

Frank nodded and Bill gave him another small smile before he turned and headed out.

***** Mary didn’t take the news brilliantly, as Frank had anticipated. She’d teared up and asked Frank why Fliss wanted to leave them, to which Frank had answered as honestly as he could, that he simply didn’t know but that it was nothing to do with her. And then she’d surprised him by saying, for the first time ever that she didn’t want to go to Roberta’s that night, but she wanted to stay with him. They ordered pizza and watched a film, huddled together on the sofa. She didn’t mention Fliss again other than to say she didn’t want to go for her riding lesson either the next day, instead saying she would go during the week. Out of courtesy more than anything Frank messaged Fliss to let her know. After an hour or so she replied simply to tell him that it was fine and she would make sure he was looked after.

Monday morning rolled around and Frank was glad of the distraction if he was honest, burying himself into his work. And during the day he was ok because his mind was busy but in the evening, after Mary had gone to bed and he himself was getting ready to hit the sack, he found himself simply staring at Fliss’s toothbrush and toiletries. Unable to look at them anymore he grabbed the various bottles of stuff belonging to her and placed them all in one of the wicker boxes held under the sink in the unit.

Tuesday evening he spent with Simon and Greg. Simon had heard from Bonnie what had happened when she had called Fliss. Simon informed Frank that Fliss had refused to talk to Bonnie about it and just asked the woman to leave it alone. They had a few beers, talked, it was a good distraction for a while but again once they left, Frank was alone with his thoughts and an aching in his chest.

And it wasn’t just his thoughts. It was the physical reminders. As well as the photos and cushions, there was the dog basket in the bedroom that belonged to Thor, when he decided to sleep on it and not Mary’s bed that is. Fliss’ favourite mug, the blue and gold shimmering wine glasses they’d bought at IKEA, her clothes in the fucking closet. Frank had no idea what he was supposed to do. Did he pack it up and take it to her, or wait for her to come and claim it?

Wednesday morning Mary told him she wanted to go and see Mary so Frank nodded. He wasn’t sure how he felt about it. On the one hand he was happy he’d at least get to see Fliss, maybe they could have a reasonable conversation but on the other he knew seeing her was going to tear him in two. He also was a little worried how Mary was going to react. He called Fliss, and unsurprisingly she didn’t pick up. But she did call him back a little after lunch.

“Hi.” he said, a little nervously as he answered.

“HI.” she replied quietly “I err, I had a call so…”

“Oh, yeah, erm, Mary wants to come up and see Monty so I wanted to make sure it was ok.” “Of course its ok.” she said gently, “Frank, I’d never stop her coming up to see her pony.”

“No I know that, I just…” Frank took a deep breath, “It doesn’t matter, we’ll see you later.” “Ok, erm, bye.” “Yeah, bye.”

He cut the call, his throat was dry and he felt like his heart was about to pound out through his chest. And that had been simply at the sound of her voice. It had been a week since he’d heard it and now it had knocked him for six. And suddenly he wasn’t looking forward to seeing her at all.

****** Fliss tossed her phone down and ran her hands over her face. She was tired. Since moving back into the annex she hadn’t been sleeping properly, having nightmares for the first time in almost a year. She wasn’t eating either and she was continually snapping at her parents too as they were crowding her she felt. Almost as much as when she had left Boston. She knew they were simply concerned, as was Bonnie but she just simply wanted to be left alone. She was hurting too, leaving Frank had killed her, it was the worst thing she had ever been through, worse than any beating John had inflicted on her.

She also knew at some point she was going to have to face him, go round and collect her stuff. Her mum and dad had made it quite clear they weren’t going to bail her out on that one, which was understandable she guessed. They were upset too, her dad especially as he was very close to Frank, and they both loved Mary as if she was their own grandchild.

It wasn’t just her own life or Frank’s she’d thrown into chaos, it was theirs too.

She wiped at her eyes, stood up and headed out into the late October sun, striding over to the paddock as she rolled her shoulder which was sore from the tumble out of bed she’d taken in the middle of the night. It was her dodgy shoulder, the one John had dislocated as part of one of his beatings, so she knew that was going to be troubling her for a good week or so now she’d jarred it again. But in some sick, twisted way she relished the pain. A physical manifesto of the agony she was feeling inside.

She had three clients that afternoon, so the time whizzed by and before she knew it it was half four and Mary would be arriving any second. She turned and headed into her office, trying to calm herself down, feeling her anxiety spiking. Thor, having sensed it, gently nuzzled his nose onto her lap as he always did and she sat for a quiet fifteen minutes simply breathing and stroking his soft head and ears, glad he was giving her something of a grounding. And then his ears pricked up as he caught the familiar sound of Frank’s truck and giving a low whine of excitement he shot off across the yard.

Taking a deep breath Fliss stood up and walked out of her office and saw Frank walking onto the main courtyard, Mary’s hand in his.

“HI…” Fliss greeted him a little tentatively, and he gave her a small smile, his eyes hidden behind his aviators.

“Hi.” he said gently.

“HI Mary.” Fliss looked at her and Mary glanced up, before she looked away.

“Hi.” she replied a little stiffly. Fliss swallowed and then took a deep breath.

“Do you want to ride today or…” “No.” Mary shook her head “Not with you.” “Mary.” Frank looked down at her “Remember what I said in the truck…”

Mary took a deep breath and looked down at her feet, her boots kicking at the slate gravel which covered the yard before she looked up at Fliss “I just want to do my jobs and brush him today.” “Okay, well, he’s in the pasture. Do you want me to come-“ “I’ll ask Joanna.” Mary said, as she let go of Frank’s hand.

“She’s in the back barn, tell her I sent you.” Mary didn’t reply, she simply headed off.

“She’s upset.” Frank explained as he watched her go. He turned to Fliss and shrugged “She’ll come round.”

Fliss gave him a small smile. “Do you want a drink or anything?”

“No, I’m good, thanks.” he shook his head “Think I’m gonna go with Stack, actually.” “Sure.” Fliss nodded, “I’ll be in the office. If she needs me or changes her mind about riding, just…” Frank gave her a tight smile again before he headed off.

Fliss watched him leave, claiming her hand over her mouth tightly before she pinched the bridge of her nose, screwing up her eyes to try and stem the tears which were threatening to come. Composing herself she turned and headed back into her office and started to busy herself with some lesson plans.

It was about forty minutes later when there was a knock at the door and Frank poked his head in.

“We’re gonna get off.” he said, “Do you want Monty back out or…”

“No, it’s fine.” she stood up “I’ll do it later once he’s been fed.” At that he nodded, turning to go.

“Is Mary ok?” Fliss asked and Frank stopped. He took a deep breath and turned to face her.

“What do you think?” Frank’s voice was a little harsher than it had been before and Fliss hung her head.

“Sorry. Can I talk to her.” “Be my guest.” he shrugged, turning once more to leave “Not sure it will do you much good.”

Fliss rose from her chair, her hands shaking a little as she headed out after him. Mary was packing her brushes back in the little box kept by Monty’s stable.

“Hey.” Fliss greeted her “Was he a good boy?” “He’s always a good boy.” Mary shrugged, standing up and stroking his nose.

“That’s true.” Fliss said, her hands slipping into the pockets of her breeches. “So, do you want to ride at weekend? We can try that jumping…”

"Why don't you love me or Frank anymore?" Mary cut her off, spinning to face her. Fliss felt her heart break even further as she looked at the little girl who was staring at her, her large eyes wide and wet with tears. "No, no Mary..." she crouched down and looked at the girl. "I do. I do love you, I love you so much, I just..." "You just don't love Frank anymore?" Fliss took a deep breath, a tear rolling down her cheek. “I'll always love Frank." "Then why did you leave our home?" Mary began to sob. "What did he do?" "Mary." Fliss shook her head "I just had to. I wish I could explain it better but I can't. You're too young to..." "Stop saying that!" Mary yelled and she spun round, pointing at Frank who had up until that point had been stood at the door to the barn, deliberately looking the other way. Hearing her outburst he turned in time to see Mary raise her hand towards him. "He keeps telling me that too, but I'm not stupid! Why do you both keep treating me like I am?" "Mary..." Frank said softly as he strode towards her. "Come on..." "I hate you.” Mary glared at Fliss who looked as though she has been physically slapped. Her head dropped and she looked down at the floor taking a deep breath. "Mary." Frank shook his head "Don’t say that." "I do." Mary's face was full of rage "She made you cry, she made me cry! She promised she would always be there and now she's not and..." "Okay." He said gently, crouching down in front of her, a meter or so away from Fliss. "I get that you're angry but be kind huh?” "Why should I?" Mary shook her head. "Because I'm asking ya to." Frank said softly. "I told you before on the way here that this..." he gestured with his hand between himself and Fliss, his eyes flicking to the woman's face as she wiped a tear from her cheek, “us breaking up...it doesn’t mean that Fliss doesn't care about you." "If she did she wouldn't be leaving me!" Mary blazed and at that point Frank shook his head. "It’s me she's leaving Stack, not you."

Fliss took a deep breath and stood up, turning away, her hand covering her mouth. Frank glanced up at her before he turned to Mary.

"Go wait in the truck." He said to her gently "I won’t be be long"

Mary shot one last look at Fliss before she did as Frank had said and headed off out of the barn and disappeared out of sight.

"Sorry." Frank looked at Fliss as she turned to face him "She shouldn't have said that."

"It doesn't matter..." Fliss shook her head avoiding his gaze. "She’s every right to be angry. I have let her down."

"I think it might be best, certainly for the foreseeable if you take care of Monty." Frank kept his voice even and Fliss looked up at him, a mix of sadness and surprise on her face.

"But he is her pony..."

"Oh come on Fliss." He snorted and shook his head. “Surely you can't be that naive as to think that thinks could just carry on..."

"No but..."

"How can I bring her here if every time she comes she’s gonna react like that?" Frank ran his hand through his hair. “It's me that has to deal with the fall out and I'm struggling to deal with my own feelings at the moment"

“Okay, if that’s what you want…” “No, I don’t want!” Frank shook his head. “I don’t want any of this, but you’ve made it perfectly clear you do and I’ll respect that. I just wish you respected me enough to tell me why.” “Frank, please…” “You left, with no explanation, other than it wasn’t working, but there’s more to it, I can see it written on your face.” his voice was level but his jaw was twitching “Don’t you think I have a right to know?” Fliss tipped her head back and looked up at the sky, blinking back her tears as he continued.

“How would you feel if I had walked out on you, with nothing more than some shitty explanation about it not working and needing space, when a month before we’d been planning for a future together? Fliss, I wanted to marry you, spend my forever with you and…” He trailed off, shaking his head looking around “I’ve spent the last week in a daze, I lay awake at night trying to understand and I just can’t…and that’s the worst bit.” Fliss looked down at her feet and shook her head softly.

“And that’s all you can do or say?” Frank snorted “Absolutely fucking nothing?”

“I’m sorry.” she looked at him, her eyes full of tears “I really am.”

“Yeah, well, so am I.” he said simply, “let me know when you want to collect your stuff from the apartment, I’ll make sure it’s ready.” and with that he turned and left.

*****

“I think it’s the fuel line…” Bill walked back into the office where Fliss and Verity were sat having a coffee whilst he had been taking a look at Fliss’ wagon. It was early Friday evening and she’d wanted nothing more than to load Heidi up and take her for a blast down the beach to clear her mind, but when she had gone to start the wagon to move it out so she could load up her tack it had refused to start. “But I can’t be certain. Not something I can sort really…you’ll need a mechanic.” he turned to look at her “If only you knew one…” “Don’t start Dad.” Fliss shook her head. “Just…”

“Bill…” Verity gave him a warning glare, and Bill simply took a deep breath, shaking his head.

“I’ll speak to Alan, see if he knows a decent one that can come look at it.”

“Thanks.” Fliss said, standing up “I’m gonna go check the fields. Can you just throw the keys back in the drawer?”

“Sure, see you at home yeah?”

She nodded, called Thor to her and headed out.

Bill shook his head and moved to open the drawer to the desk. He tossed the keys inside, and then frowned as he saw the manila envelope that was stuffed inside.

“What is it?” Verity asked.

“That…that’s a Boston post mark….” he mumbled, lifting it out. With a frown, knowing full well there was only one person really from Boston that would be sending Fliss stuff, he turned it over and pulled out the printed photograph. His eyes scanned it and he let out an angry noise and strode out into the courtyard.

“Fliss!” he bellowed “Fliss, get back here right now…” “What’s going on?” Verity asked, and he thrust the photo at her by means of an explanation.

Fliss, having heard her dad shouting stopped dead and turned back to look at the office. She glanced down at Thor before she turned back and headed towards him.

“What’s…” she stopped dead as she saw the envelope on the desk and the photo in her mother’s hand.

“Care to explain this?” Bill said, snatching the paper out of Verity’s fingers and slamming it down on the desk."

"You had no right to go looking through my stuff." she looked at him, angrily.

"Oh cut the crap, Liss." Bill shook his head “When did you get that?”

“Last Wednesday.” she said softly.

“Last Wednesday?” Verity frowned, “that was the day you finished with Frank…” she trailed off as the dots connected in her head as Fliss looked down at the floor. “Oh please tell me I’m wrong…”

Fliss didn’t respond.

“I cannot believe you.” Bill looked at her “This? This is why you ended it? Over some pathetic threat without even telling him?"

"It isn’t pathetic!" Fliss looked up at her dad, her eyes blazing. "I know what he is capable of..."

"Well in that case don't you think Frank has the right to know?" Bill glared at her. "If you believe Mary is in danger then you should have told Frank and gone to the police..."

Fliss swallowed and looked down, shaking her head "I know John. This is about having control over me. If he thinks he’s won he will leave them alone…”

"You’re so fucking stupid." Bill sighed.

“Bill…” Verity spoke gently, trying to calm him down but he was too far gone to listen.

"You've let him win Liss, after everything you went through….”

"This isn’t about him winning!" Fliss practically screamed "This about keeping Mary and Frank safe...not only from him but…well, can you imagine what Frank would have done if he’d seen that?"

“So have you rung John and told him you've done what he wants?"

“Of course I fucking haven't"

"No fault whatsoever in your logic there, huh Titch..." Bill snorted, sarcastically "Tell me, how exactly do you expect him to know it’s over?"

Fliss looked at her dad for a moment, floundering for a response. But she didn’t have one.

"Frank has a right to know about that photo, and more so he deserves to understand why you walked out on him." Bill shook his head, as Verity gently placed a hand on his arm.

“"If you wanna discuss rights then I don’t have the right to put a target on his or Mary’s back.” Fliss screamed back before she took a deep breath, shaking her head “Now I’m going for a walk. See you at home.”

Bill watched as she left the office, an angry noise escaping from his throat.

“You were a bit hard on her there Billy.” Verity said, looking at him.

“She needed it.” Bill sighed. He placed both his hands on the desk and hung his head slightly “I can’t believe she’s been so stupid.” “She’s scared.” Verity said gently “She’s not thinking straight…” “You can say that again.” he looked at the photo for a second before he reached out and grabbed it, shoving it back in the envelope. He paused for a second, holding it in his hand before he turned to Verity “And I’m not standing for it…come one” “Where are we going?” Verity called after him as they made their way towards his car.

“To find Frank.” “Bill, we can’t…” Verity shook her head “If we go behind her back…” “Then you can wait in the car Verity.” he looked at her. “I don’t care what she says anymore, I’m not standing back and watching her throw anymore of her life away over that ass hole. And that aside, Frank has a right to know. So seeing as she’s too fucking stubborn to do it herself, then I’m gonna do it for her.”

***** “Thought I might find you here.”

Frank turned to look at Bill as he slid into the seat at the opposite side of the table to him in Ferg’s.

“Yeah well, not like I got much else to do.” Frank shrugged, taking a drink from his bottle.

“How many have you had?” Bill asked

“What are you my dad?” Frank shot back, turning to glare at him. Bill merely raised his eyebrows in response and Frank sighed, shaking his head.

“Sorry…” he took a deep breath “This is my first. Not been here long”

“Good. You're still sober enough to think straight.” “Think straight about what?” Frank frowned. After a second or so pause Bill reached into his pocket and slid an envelope across the surface of the table.

“What’s this?” Frank frowned.

“An explanation.” Bill sighed, “Well, of sorts anyway.” Frank looked at him, frowning before he placed his bottle down and picked the envelope up. He pulled out the paper from inside and glanced down at it. As soon as he saw the message typed out he felt the heat rise up his neck and into his face, anger flooding his system.

“Fuck.” Frank said loudly, shaking his head “He sent this?” Bill nodded.

“And this...this is why she broke it off?” “She thought if she finished it, gave John what he wanted as in to make her life a fucking misery, that he’d back off and it would mean you and Mary were safe.” Frank ran his hand through his hair “Why the fuck didn't she tell me?” “Because she was scared. Scared of what he would do and scared of your reaction” “My reaction?”

“Tell me you’re not thinking about hunting the fucker down and killing him yourself.” Bill looked at him and Frank looked away.

“If it wasn’t for Mary I’d have done that months ago.” he shook his head.

“Exactly. She was worried that this might have been that step that pushed you over the edge.” Bill shrugged. “Look, I’m not saying she’s right... in fact I’ve told her the opposite but, well, I just thought you had a right to know.”

“Can I keep this?” Frank asked after a moment’s pause “Regardless of what Fliss says, I’m taking this to the police this time.” “By all means.” Bill said. “But they’ll want to speak to Fliss so…”

“Tough.” Frank shrugged. “Now he’s pulled Mary into it I’m not fucking about anymore Bill.”

Bill nodded and stood up, clapping him on the shoulder. “Don’t think too badly of her Frank. I know she’s fucked up but she did think she was doing the right thing. We do stupid things to protect the people we love, as you know only too well.” Frank looked up at him and then back down to the photo. Bill turned to leave before he stopped and looked back over his shoulder.

“By the way, she’ll be at the yard.” He said, locking eyes with Frank. “Probably for another hour or so if the last week has been anything to go by. Just in case you wanted a more detailed explanation straight from the horse’s mouth so to speak.”

And with that he left Frank at the bar. Frank once more glanced down at the photo, before he rubbed at his beard. Now he had his explanation, his head was a mess of thoughts. He was angry, so angry that she’d done this, that she’d kept this from him but despite all of that, despite the fury and resentment he was feeling he couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of sympathy for her, that she’d tried to deal with all this on her own to keep him and Mary from having to.

“You fucking idiot, Lissy…” he mumbled, before he shoved the photo back in the envelope and stood up, heading out to his truck.

**** Fliss was hanging Heidi’s bridle up in the tack room after a spontaneous ride around the fields when Thor gave a quick bark and shot out. Frowning, she headed to the door of the office, her eyes growing wide as she saw Frank striding purposely towards her, the setting sun illuminating his tall figure and the familiar envelope clutched in his hand.

Fuck…

“Care to explain this?” he waved it in the air as he reached the office threshold

“How did you…” “Your Dad.” he said, thrusting it at her “He came to find me. Thought I had a right to know, and you know what…I’m kinda inclined to agree with him.”

“Frank…” “Were you ever gonna tell me?” he asked, tossing the envelope onto the desk “That he had made a threat towards Mary?” “I dealt with it.” she shook her head “There was no need to worry you.”

“You dealt with it?” His voice was disbelieving “How? By ending things?” “Yes.” She nodded “Breaking it off with you…it was the best way of keeping you both safe.” “You are fucking unbelievable.” he shook his head “You ripped our lives from underneath us…”

“This hasn’t been easy on me either Frank!” she cut him off, angrily “Fuck, leaving you…it broke me. Like nothing I’ve ever felt before. You know, I’d rather take thousand beatings from John over that because…” she trailed off as Frank looked at her, her words sinking in as she shook her head and looked away, tears falling down her face “…because at least the physical pain would die down…”

“Don’t.” Frank shook his head, his voice cracking “Don’t say that.”

“It’s the truth. I had to keep you safe.” she turned her head to face him, “Both of you…”

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” he pressed.

Fliss looked at him, her mouth opening before she shut it again and shook her head, her eyes dropping to the floor “I had to keep you safe…” “Keep us safe…that’s not answering my question.” She shook her head again. “Damnit Lissy, look at me.”

She raised her face to his, obediently.

“Why?” he pressed.

“I was frightened it might tip you over the edge…make you do something stupid.”

“Stupid? Like what?” “Like go and hunt him down.” she swallowed.

“Seriously?”

“Yes!” she nodded. “You moved Mary over a thousand miles to keep her away from your own mother...”

“That is NOT the same…” Frank blazed at her

“And I was scared that if you saw this…you’d do something bad and then both of us would end up without you and…” “Fuck!” Frank exploded, slamming his open palm down on the desk with a loud bang. Fliss immediately jumped back, her eyes wide with fright and Frank took a deep breath, as he realised he’d scared her. Besides him Thor gave a low rumble of a growl, and the large dog moved towards Fliss, turning his eyes on Frank. Fliss laid a hand on his head.

“Thor, shh…” she said softly, and he immediately stopped, but never once averted his gaze from Frank.

“Sorry, I…” Frank swallowed, concentrating on his breathing as he looked at her. “Why didn’t you just talk to me?” “I don’t know…I’m sorry.” she sniffed, wiping her face. “I just…”

“Have I ever given you reason to be scared of what I’d do or say or…” “No, of course not…” “So what the fuck makes you think I wouldn’t understand how upset and scared you were over this?”

“I don’t know.” she shrugged “I wasn’t thinking straight…” “You weren’t thinking at all…” Frank shook his head “I can’t believe you’ve been so goddamned stupid.”

“I’m sorry…” she looked at him, looking down “I know…I was an idiot and you’ve every right to be angry and hate me…” “I don’t hate you Liss.” Frank sighed softly “I fucking love you, more than I can even begin to explain.” At that Fliss let out a loud sniff and wiped at her nose with her hand.

“And you know what the worst thing about all this is?” He spoke again and she looked at him, waiting for him to finish. “Is that I know I’ll never be able to stop loving you.”

The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them. It was the truth, he couldn't ever see a point in his life where he would be able to switch those feelings off. Fliss' drew in a ragged breath and as he looked at her he saw something on her face which he recognised instantly, it was the same look she had worn when she told him she had found out John had been released, utter broken helplessness. She shook her head sadly and he could do nothing but watch, his own chest rising and falling deeply as she slid down to the floor, her knees buckling beneath her. Thor pushed his face into hers, gently nuzzling at her as she tangled her hands into his fur.

"I don’t deserve to be loved..." she shook her head as her silent tears continued to flow freely "not at that cost..."

Her words hit Frank like a tonne of bricks and he took a deep breath and shook his head.

“Don’t…” he stumbled over his words slightly as he took a step towards her “Don’t say that! Ever again you hear me?” he knelt in front of her as she hugged her knees tightly to her chest. Thor, eyeing Frank again, moved back a little, clearly deciding the man posed no threat. Frank reached out and scratched his ear slightly before he gently placed his hands on Fliss’, prising them from around her knees gently, moving her arms so that her body opened up slightly to him “Fliss you are worthy of all the love in the world...why don’t you see it? Why are you pushing me away?” “I’m sorry… I’m… I…” She fell into him, sobs wracking her small frame as she pressed her face into his chest, her hands moving from her knees, grabbing fistfuls of his shirt. "Hey...sshhh..." he hushed her, one hand on the back of her head as he cradled her to him "it's okay…” He sat with her on the tiled floor of the office, no longer even bothering to fight his own tears as he pressed his face into her hair and kissed the top of her head as he rocked her gently whilst she cried. Eventually her sobs began to die down into soft cries, her body finally stopped shaking as the cries then subsided into sniffles but still she clung to him as if her life depended on it, simply concentrating on calming herself, allowing his familiar touch and smell to wash over her, ground her. Frank made to pull back slightly, but the moment caused Fliss to panic slightly and she made a grab for him. "No, please...don't go...don't..." "I'm not going anywhere." he promised her quietly as he cupped her cheeks with both his hands, turning her face up to look at him. "You're a fucking idiot you know that?" She gave a soft, watery splutter of a laugh as she nodded in agreement, his thumbs gently wiping her tears away. "But you're my idiot." "I don't deserve you..." she shook her head, averting her eyes from his "Frankie, I don't..." "Stop it." He said sternly, his grip on her face became a little stronger "Liss, look at me..." She swallowed and turned her big brown eyes to meet his, the hurt and pain evident on her pretty face. "I love you." He repeated his earlier statement and she took another deep, shaking breath. "I love you too." she sobbed, fresh tears rolling out of her eyes "Well then..." He looked at her, raising his eyebrows. "The question is, do you think that's enough to put this behind us?" "You want to?" She asked him, her voice almost a whisper, surprise still evident in her tone. "Of course I do." Frank sniffed and smiled at her. “I never wanted you to leave in the first place, Sweetheart." "What about Mary? She hates me..." Fliss shook her head. “And I don’t blame her." "No, she doesn't. She’s angry and lashing out. She tells me she hates me all the time, remember?" Frank smiled and tucked a strand of hair behind Fliss' ear "You might get the silent treatment for a day or so but well, some might call that a pleasant break." Fliss gave a snort of laughter before she finally let go of his shirt, reaching up with both hands to wipe at her face. "I bet I look a right state." She shook her head, looking down at her hands as the fingers on her left hand began to anxiously play with the ones on her right. "No more than usual." He quipped. "I still think you're beautiful." "Charmer." She said, her mouth curling up at one side into a glimmer of a smile, eyes still cast downwards. Frank reached out and gently took her chin between his finger and thumb, tilting her head upwards. She looked at him for a moment before he leaned down and gently pressed a kiss to her lips. A soft, lingering one, that was loaded with meaning as his hand once more rest against her cheek. She closed her eyes and leaned into his touch, her left hand coming up lay over his, her fingers sliding into the spaces between his own. He gently, pressed his forehead to hers, his own eyes closing as he slid his nose up against hers. "Take me home." She whispered to him and he could tell from her tone it was a question not a demand. He opened his eyes to see her looking at him with a hopeful expression that matched the tone of her voice "please." He smiled at her and nodded, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead before he pushed himself up off the floor and offered her his hand. She took it, allowing him to pull her up on the floor and lacing his fingers between hers, he gently led them both towards the door. Once outside he paused to let her lock it before he gently slid his arm round her shoulders and she leaned into him as they walked towards his truck, Thor happily trotting behind them.

**** Chapter 22

#riding high #frank adler #frank adler x ofc #frank adler x original female character #gifted #gifted fan fic #chris evans #chris evans characters

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skvaderarts · 3 years ago

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Devil May Cry OC Week Day 4!

I’m actually really excited for @dmc-oc-week day for because it gives me the opportunity to talk about Sirrus without delving into spoilers! Yay loopholes!

This contains slight spoilers, but nothing super important. Just keep that in mind. it won’t effect anything, but if you want to go in totally blind, tread carefully.

Dislikes:

Note: if your wondering why I did dislikes first, it’s because that’s just how Sirrus is lol! He’s not a downer, but he likes to think of himself as a realist, but he’s slightly closer to being a pragmatic nihilist, and that lack of optimism lingers in his day to day life because he’s naturally going to have his guard up at all times. He can’t be disappointed if his expectations are nonexistent. Big mood, Sirrus.

1. His father. As previously mentioned, Sirrus is not on good terms with his father. At all. In fact, he’s actively waiting for his father’s hubris to catch up to him along with some of the enemies he’s made along the way so that he himself doesn’t have to confront him and possible end him because he knows he has it coming, but he doesn’t have it in him to do it himself. He’s probably powerful enough, but he just doesn’t have the heart. Despite everything, he’s still got a small ounce of compassion in his heart towards his father that he can’t let go of, something that he loathes about himself. It’s pretty unhealthy.

2. People that abuse power, authority, or social standing. This is actually a large issue in his own immediate family, and that’s part of why his dislike for it is so powerful. He genuinely believes that you should positively contribute to the lives of others if you have the means to, and if nothing else, that you should not detract from them. As a result, he’s developed a dislike of a large portion of people in power because, I mean, fair enough. But his family does not escape this designation, and that’s a large part of why he does what he does. Not because he believes he has superior judgement or standing over others, but because he cannot solve a problem that he does not understand. So as a result, he has to go out into the field and learn from those his work effects. Assuming that he knows what’s best for everyone while simultaneously never having met those people is literally what he hates most about most people in positions of power, and he strives to not do the same. Being powerful doesn’t mean that your smart, and he knows that first hand. I feel like Sirrus would be into the “eat the rich” thing if it was a thing in the DMC universe. Very into it.

3. His mother. I feel like this one may come as a bit of a surprise to some of you who know more about him from the fic since he’s literally only mentioned her once, and doesn’t speak of her in any broad sense, but Sirrus isn’t on the best of terms with his mother, either. He doesn’t harbor any negativity towards them for splitting up when he was young. In fact, he considers it the best thing that either of them has probably ever done. But he has his reasons for not being on good terms with him mom. Day 6 will cover family and background, so I’ll get to go in depth on that day! For now, lets just put it under the broad but totally accurate category of “extremely toxic and codependent relationship” and go from there. Maybe I’ll make a family tree you you can see how messed up everything is! Yea, that would be fun! Would you like to see that?

4. Extreme heat and sun. In truth, while he does in fact become more powerful in bright sunlight, he still hates it. Why? Simple. It gives him migraines due to one of his existing (but not yet disclosed) abilities. And he just hates to be hot. He’s on the pale side (Ok, he almost makes V look like he has a tan.) so he gets sun burned. And because he’s used to a cooler climate, hot places drive him NUTS. I suppose you could say that “Discomfort” is a dislike of his, too.

5. Desk work. This one probably seems pretty random, but as an adjudicator, he actually has to occasionally file reports, and he ABSOLUTELY HATES EVERY SECOND OF IT. He’s good at what he does, no question there, but it’s kind of like being good at sending corporate emails when you hate the fake corporate politeness that you have to maintain, and you basically despise half of the company you work for. Why does he keep the job? Simple. Because no one can abuse the power of the position he’s in if he does it himself. And for him, that’s worth hating a large aspect of his job,

Likes:

1. V. Yup you read that right. Sirrus absolutely adores V, something that he himself is not used to. At this point, he’s not entirely sure what he feels towards him since they haven’t known one another for very long, but he does realize that he means quite a bit to him. After V saved his life in the fic, he really started to pay more attention to him. Before, they were friendly and he had to admit that he actually did find both V and Nero (and Nico, for that matter) really cute, but that was about it. And then as they started spending more time around one another, Sirrus realized that perhaps he liked being around V for a reason. He’s still working on understanding what he feels, but with everything going on in the fic, for now he’s just there to help and figure out what’s going on so that everything turns out alright. Then he can worry about everything else. But for now, he’s just working it out as he goes and trying to distract V from everything going on in the fic. He realizes that he’s got a lot going on, and he genuinely just wants him to be happy for a few damn minuets.

2. Being around equally strange people. Sirrus feels like an outcast most of the time, so as a general rule, he tries to associate with people as little as possible. That being said, the DMC crew makes him feel right at home, and the supreme otherness that he feels much of the time dissipates when he’s with them. It’s a welcome feeling to be sure.

3. Wine. Sirrus actually enjoys wine quite a bit! It’s something he likes the taste of, and due to his biological inability to drink, it’s something he can basically enjoy without consequence. That being said, his favorite wine is absolutely disgusting to basically everyone who’s ever tasted it (aside form V, much to his surprise) and that may be because of a certain added ingredient that was put into it for flavor. What can I say, he has unorthodox tastes!

4. Cooking good food. Sirrus doesn’t actually need to eat, but he does like to entertain those around him. If he likes you, he will cook for you. It’s that simple. It’s something from his own culture that’s been instilled in him; the idea of taking care of those that show kindness to you. And believe me, that doesn’t happen to him very often. He’s largely ostracized in most social interactions despite the fact that he says and does nothing to cause this. Its a key reason as to why he doesn't talk about what he is. It makes people... uncomfortable. And to add to that, he has a sort of aura to him that unnerves people. The way he tends to look at people at though he’s looking through them instead of at them doesn’t help.

5. Fine arts. Something that doesn’t come up much in the books is that Sirrus has hobbies. And a love for the fine arts. All of them. The more unorthodox, the better. Sirrus is that person who is dead inside and will stare at a piece of artwork for ridiculous amounts of time, pondering it’s meaning. Not in a pretensions way, but in a “what the hell am I doing with my life” sort of way. He’s a walking essential crisis, but he’s nothing if not self aware. But in regards to the arts, if it’s a form of expression, then he’s all for it. And he will probably ask you to teach it to him or become a financial patron to your work. He thinks that art and the people that make it are under appreciated, and the idea of art dying out genuinely scares him to death. He doesn’t think a world without art is worth living in. As an extension to this, he loves history. He considered much of it distasteful, but he recognizes it’s importance.

Bonus: Sirrus likes to send extravagant gifts. This is partially due to the fact that he has a very large sum of money and nothing to spend it on. It’s a regular occurrence that you will mention liking something in passing and then end up having it sent to your house out of nowhere. Sirrus did this to V with basically an entire house of furniture, and V is still trying to process it. But this isn’t the only time he’s going to do something like that. Not by a long shot.

Let me know if you have any questions! I love answering them :D And if you have any input, I’ve love to hear that, too!

#dmcocweek #Sirrus #My OC #Devil May Cry OC Week Day 4 #DMC #OC #Devil May Cry #My Devil May Cry OC #My Post Devil May Cry 5 OC #Fic

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jinterlude · 4 years ago

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Our Second Chance (Ch.7)

↳ Header created by the amazingly talented @koophoriia from the BHQ’s Banner Request Board.

➳ Pairing: Kim Seokjin x Female OC x Kim Namjoon

➳ Genre(s): Modern!AU, Royalty!AU, Modern Royal Family!AU, Enemies turned Lovers, Love Triangle, Friendship, Humor, Romance, & Angst

➳ Warning(s) & Rating: swearing, mentions of death (passing of a loved one), jealousy | PG-15

➳ Words: 5.7K

➳ Summary: Have you ever gotten that familiar feeling when you first see someone? That strange connection between yourselves even though you have no clue where that came from. Yeah. That was the sensation that Sumin felt daily ever since she has come face-to-face with only Kim Seokjin. Despite being named after their ancestors, two people who were madly in love with each other, they cannot stand to be in each other’s presence. However, that must change, or else history will repeat itself. Sounds like an adventure, right?

※ Previously: ch.1 | ch.2 | ch.3 | ch.4 | ch.5 | ch.6

※ Next time: coming soon!

—A/N: And finally! I have kept my promise and updated this series after not doing so for almost TWO years! I’m honestly quite surprised and proud of myself for updating this series as I genuinely thought I was going to leave it unfinished. However, I honestly want to thank the friends I made over that BHQ for igniting that passion for writing once again. I especially want to thank @jinned AKA BEAN because without her, I truly believe that this series would have been discontinued AND she introduced me to this amazing group called, “ASTRO,” so enjoy her OC + JinJin and let me know what you guys think!

- Kim

Chapter 7 – The Heart Wants What It Wants

Previously

It was crazy that in just a few minutes, she went from battling between her rational and emotional side to only allowing her emotional side to take control.

Now, she thought about everything and anything that led to more emptiness within her body.

Maybe, she should just marry Namjoon. He wouldn’t hurt her. He would always protect her from any form of danger.

But then…

Would she be happy with him?

Would she learn to love him?

So many questions flooded her mind, causing this strange yet intense tension to emerge.

Great, now she had a migraine…

What else could go wrong?

“Princess Sumin…your father would like a word with you.” She heard the royal messenger say.

Fuck…

Her…

Life…

“Okay. Tell my father that I’ll be right there.”

Letting out what it appeared to be the millionth sigh that evening, Sumin stood up – with the assistance of Jungkook, of course – and dusted off her hands. She then smoothed out her dress, wiping away any dust or dirt that decorated the dusted pink silk fabric before taking one final deep breath and releasing it nice and slow.

If she were to have a serious talk with her father, she needed to be calm and collected. Her heartbreak because of Seokjin had to be put on the back burner for now.

“Alright. Now I’m ready to talk to my father.” Said the princess as she nodded politely to one of the royal guards. The guard bowed his head out of respect and responded to his princess’s words before guiding Sumin to her father.

Just as the two walked away from their spot, two out of breath men came to an immediate halt under the entryway. Their frantic eyes scanned the ballroom in hopes to find a familiar face.

Unfortunately, luck was definitely not on their side, as the panic gentlemen came face-to-face with an endless sea of party guests. No matter where they looked, Seokjin and Namjoon could not find Sumin, which meant their chances at winning over the poor girl’s heart grew slim—especially Seokjin’s chances.

A low growl escaped Namjoon’s lips as he angrily ruffled his hair, no longer caring if his hair didn’t look princely. Then, his heated gaze flickered towards Seokjin before grabbing the pretty boy’s jacket and roughly pulling him forward. Their noses practically bumped into each other.

“This is all your fault,” Namjoon growled deeply.

Seokjin scoffed, roughly pushing Namjoon’s hands off his jacket; thus, creating space between them.

“My fault? Are you fucking kidding me?!” The fuming duke took a step forward, almost towering over the intelligent prince, “If you haven’t goaded me into saying those obvious lies, then Sumin wouldn’t have heard me and runoff,” Then, Seokjin paused as a thought planted itself in his mind, “Correction, if you haven’t called me out to talk to you in her stupid foyer, then this stupid, unnecessary shit wouldn’t have happened in the fucking first place!” The irritated duke finished, smiling politely at the random bystanders who awkwardly glanced their way. For added measure, Seokjin stepped away from Namjoon and fixed his appearance.

Now it was Namjoon’s turn to scoff, and just as he opened his mouth to argue back, he noticed a familiar dress brush by the dessert table.

“Sumin…” He whispered, hoping that Seokjin – his competitor – didn’t hear him but much to Namjoon’s dismay, he did.

The handsome duke swiftly spun around, his focus homed in on Sumin as she closed the distance between herself and her father, the king.

“Shit…” The competitive rivals cursed; their eyes briefly met one another. As if they were on the same page, they dashed towards Sumin’s direction. However, the lovesick men soon halted as they came face-to-face with a furious queen—Sowon.

Rage burned brightly in her eyes as she breathed heavily through her nostrils while Jungkook innocently stood behind her. He awkward waved at his older friends, kindly mouthing that they were about to painfully die by her hands. He even added gestures, thinking that it would be helpful.

It wasn’t.

It only terrified Namjoon and Seokjin, and out of that fear, the two idiots spoke over one another. Both of them desperately hoped that their words would persuade Sowon and allow one of them to talk to Sumin.

Sadly, it didn’t. It only angered Sowon more.

Suddenly, she held up her hands, her cold stare silenced the bumbling idiots that stood before her.

“Good. Now listen to me and listen carefully,” Sowon stepped forward as she grabbed both Namjoon’s and Seokjin’s tie and yanked them forward. The two contenders for Sumin’s heart were now to Sowon’s eye level. “I don’t know what you did, nor do I give a fuck. The only thing that I do care about is that you,” The agitated queen released Namjoon and poured all of her fiery rages toward the handsome idiot, “Broke my dearest friend’s heart. Therefore, you are dead to me. You’ll never be allowed near Sumin.” She threatened with her voice as cold as ice.

Namjoon did a silent cheer. He could always rely on Sowon to do the right thing.

“And you!” The prince heard, quickly squashing his triumphant mood.

On second thought…

Now, it was Namjoon’s turn to be yanked forward, nearly choking the poor prince.

“I know that the stupid Duke’s harsh words were a result of your carefully planted sentences since I know how calculating you can get when you want something to turn in your favor,” Sowon stated as she let go of Namjoon’s tie. The stupid prince had Jungkook to thank as the young lad was the voice of reason for her.

Out of the corner of Sowon’s eye, she noticed a hand slowly raised. Rubbing the sides of her forehead, hoping the massage would soothe away her headache, she asked what Seokjin wanted, but he better picked his words wisely. She already loathed him after the stunt he pulled earlier.

“So, does that mean I have more time to plead with Sumin?”

Both Sowon and Namjoon snapped their gaze onto him. Simultaneously, Jungkook shook his head, silently berating his oldest friend for asking such a stupid question.

Instead of answering, the frustrated queen stalked up to Seokjin and stomped on his foot before walking away. She then sarcastically yelled,

“OOPS! I DIDN’T SEE YOU THERE!”

Seokjin cursed, hopping one foot as he grabbed his aching foot. The poor duke looked utterly flabbergasted as he shot Jungkook a look that practically said, “Are you seriously with her?”

Jungkook simply shrugged, unsure how to respond to Seokjin’s question. The naïve prince then turned to his side, hoping that Namjoon was still there, but he wasn’t. Only a vacated spot remained as the two fellas wheeled their brains over the events that took place.

“I’m not getting Sumin back, am I?”

“For your sake, I hope so, dude. I really hope so…”

In a different part of the castle, a troubled princess stared blankly out the window, with the moon spotlighting certain areas of her father’s office. Almost as if splotches of white paint decorated the flooring. Sumin’s absentmindedly traced the fabric of the ivory lace curtains, the lined material contrasted the softness of her fingers.

Soon, Seokjin’s harsh words flooded her mind as her eyes gradually became glossy. Her breath hitched briefly while her lips thinned as if Sumin tried her hardest to compose herself. The depressed girl shut her eyes, causing a tear to trickle down her precious cheek.

“Sumin?” heard Sumin before she quickly composed herself and wiped away any stray droplets.

With a deep breath, the princess turned away from the window with a soft yet fake smile.

“Yes, father?” questioned Sumin, treading towards him as he stood near the fireplace with his back facing her. She then placed a warm hand on his shoulder, subtly announcing her presence to her father.

“I know that something happened between you and Sir Seokjin and before you argue with your old man. I know,” The king faced her, displaying a loving yet almost sad smile, “Call it a father’s intuition. Still, I know that the duke broke my little girl’s heart, which means that you successfully found someone to marry out of love.” He finished, his voice dropped to almost a whisper as he slowly nodded, trying to wrap his mind around the fact that his little girl was no longer that. What stood before was this beautiful young woman who strongly resembled her mother, but of course, she had his smile and nose. But everything else came from her mother’s side—just like his ancestor, Queen Sumin I.

Talk about oddly strong genes…

After what seemed like forever, the king forcibly removed himself from his many beautiful memories of his beloved daughter. The king cleared his throat and took a seat on his wine-colored sofa chair. He crossed one leg over the other before instructing Sumin to sit as well.

“Now, Sumin, when are your upcoming nuptials to the duke?” asked her father, and instantly, Sumin’s body tensed. Her hands fisted the fabric of her dress while her eyes remained glued on the luxurious rug.

How was Sumin going to tell her dear old dad that she was unsure if she’s still engaged? The answer? She couldn’t, but she had to since Seokjin bluntly confessed that he never loved her, and it was all a lie.

Yet her stubborn heart refused to believe his words. A tiny part of her knew something was up, but all signs pointed that – maybe – just maybe – he told the coldhearted truth.

She glanced towards the ceiling for a second, praying that no tears pooled in the brims of her eyes. She breathed in and out, nice and slow, as she collected herself.

With a sweet smile gracing her lips, Sumin finally answered her father,

“Unfortunately, father, a wedding for Seokjin and I is no longer written in the stars.”

The king’s brow quirked up as confusion slowly washed over his face.

“What do you mean, my dear?” He pointed at Sumin’s ring finger, “I see that you are now dawning our ancestor’s engagement ring, so why do you say that there’ll be no wedding? Did Seokjin do something to you?” He questioned as his voice grew cold near the end, while anger quickly flashed in his eyes.

“No!” Sumin swiftly answered, eliminating any doubts in her father’s mind. However, her answer did the opposite. The fact of how fast she responded to his question planted seeds of distrust in his head. Also, it didn’t help that her face went pale, not even a minute after his question.

Something was wrong, and as the king, it was his duty to get to the bottom of his daughter’s heartache.

Letting out a tired grunt, Sumin’s father stood up, cracking a few bones as he gently took his daughter’s hands into his before pulling her up. Then, without uttering a single word, he wrapped a loving arm around her bare shoulders and hugged her.

With that single hug, Sumin broke down sobbing. This wasn’t a princess crying crocodile tears to her daddy – the king – but a broken-hearted daughter who needed the comfort of the one man that would never crush her heart.

“I don’t know what I did wrong, daddy,” She hiccuped, crying harder, “I thought he loved me.” She said with a voice so devastated that it caused her father’s eyes to become glossy.

“I know, sweetheart. I know.” The king tried his hardest to soothe his daughter’s pain, not as a king who needed to secure the future of his kingdom and his daughter’s reign, but as a father who only wanted his only child to be happy.

Slowly, while it pained him to do so, the king released his daughter from his embrace but still held her within arm’s length. A blanket of silence covered them as the king and princess stared at each other. No words were necessary as their troubled facial expressions spoke for them. However, he couldn’t sleep peacefully, knowing that his little girl was utterly destroyed.

So, as if their ancestor guided his attention, the king’s gaze fell onto the family portrait of Queen Sumin I with her parents. Slowly, a soft smile danced on his face while he briefly closed his eyes, breathing through his nostrils. Then, as he reopened his eyes, he shifted his stare towards the portrait once more.

“Do you recall the old tale of how Queen Sumin I ultimately decided on following through her marriage to King Ji Yong?” The king suddenly asked, instantly capturing Sumin’s attention as she softly shook her head.

In response, he slowly nodded, taking a seat on the wine sofa chair. He gestured for his daughter to retake her seat. If he were to tell this story, he wanted both of them to be comfortable.

Sumin’s father cleared his throat a few times and began his tale,

“Well, of course, it began during nightfall. Your ancestor, King Jin Hwan, summoned his daughter to his deathbed and…”

Grabbing a handful of her skirt, Princess Sumin rushed to her father’s chamber as tears cascaded down her precious cheeks. She didn’t care if the clicking of her heels woke up the entire castle. Her nurse tragically announced, minutes prior, that her father didn’t have much longer, and he could peacefully die in his sleep. But Sumin refused to believe it. Without a moment to lose, she dashed out of her father’s study and sprinted towards her parents’ bedroom.

She already lost the love of her life – the real keeper of her heart and soul – Kim Seokjin, now she was to lose her father?

She might as well hand over the kingdom on a silver platter to her “doting” fiancé, King Ji Yong, at this point.

Pushing past her parents’ royal guards, Sumin roughly pushed open the doors, walking by the royal physicians, nurses, and servants with her eyes focused on her parents’ bed.

With each big, painful step, the princess closed the distance between her and the bed, where her father laid, barely breathing.

Sumin choked back her tears while her mother wept, desperately grasping her husband’s hands.

“S-Sumin…” the distraught princess heard her mother hiccup while maintaining her gaze on the dying king.

“F-father…” Sumin finally broke down, falling to her knees as her legs gave up on her. No strength lingered in her body, both physically and mentally.

Sumin was utterly defeated, and she needed her father more than ever.

Gently taking one of his hands into hers, her mother released one of them seconds earlier, the daughter softly cried as she pressed a tear-stained cheek against his hand.

“I do not know what to do, daddy,” The troubled princess began, “Sir Seokjin is captured and awaiting his execution and has been for almost a month now, and I am so lost.” She sobbed silently, hanging her head low.

Suddenly, she felt something on top of her head. Sumin quickly looked up and was instantly greeted with a tired yet soft smile from the king.

“My darling princess…” He began in a breathy tone, “It saddens me to see you so broken, and if I were at my all-time strength, I would toss that horrid man out of our kingdom and place an eternal ban on him.” King Jin Hwan stated before coughing. He could feel his time coming to an end with each cough. However, he needed to depart one final word of wisdom to his daughter—even if it meant breaking their families’ beloved tradition. Their personal belief that everyone deserves a chance at marrying for love.

Maybe one day…

That tradition will come to light again…

But for now, Sumin needed to do what was best for her people.

“Sweetheart, I know how much you truly loved your knight, and—”

“I love him to the moon and back father. I have been in love with that man ever since we were mere children, and that is why I will do anything to get him back home safely. Even if it means surrendering myself to that wretched king.”

Her words alarmed both the king and queen. Maybe it was not necessary to influence his daughter to follow through with the wedding after all.

After all, he raised his daughter to always follow her heart, and he could die peacefully, knowing that his headstrong child would remain just that—strong-willed.

She should be fine…

Right…?

As the embers slowly fizzled out, the king looked to his wife and then to his daughter before gazing at the ceiling and whispered,

“Remember, I will always love you two. My favorite women…”

Like that, Queen Sumin I went along with the wedding to King Ji Yong, breaking Sir Seokjin’s heart and living in misery until her early death. Sumin’s grandparents explained that the reason for her ancestor’s premature passing was because of a broken heart. They told her that it never healed after Queen Sumin I parted with her beloved knight that infamous day. Just the mere thought alone terrified the young princess; thus, molding her into believing that her true love was out there. She only had to find him, and then, she could have the happy ending that her ancestor never received.

Unfortunately, the idea of a happy ending was so out of reach for the princess.

She found the man believed to be her soulmate.

The two of them fell in love.

And then…

As if someone woke Sumin from her beautiful dream, everything vanished.

All that remained was her ancestor’s engagement ring nestled on Sumin’s ring finger. It served as a cruel reminder that Seokjin, Duke of Birch Ridge, took out her beating heart and stabbed it.

The troubled princess couldn’t help but wince as she clutched her chest. She felt the coolness from her ring, and as if it were suddenly burning her soft skin, Sumin tore it off her finger and carelessly tossed it on the end table next to her chair. Her odd action alarmed her father, and as he opened his mouth to speak, Sumin snatched her family heirloom, cradling it in her chest.

She quietly chanted with closed eyes, “I’m so sorry for any dishonor I may have done…”

“Oh, my precious jewel, you have done nothing of the sort,” Sumin heard her father say, snapping her out of her hypnosis, “You simply fell in love with someone who fooled you.” He finished, his eyes dripping with worry.

“Yeah, but the deadline is soon approaching, and…” The princess paused, recalling the tale her father finished reciting moments earlier, “I will officially accept my betrothal with Namjoon.” She suddenly stood up, rubbing the engagement ring between her fingers and eyed the piece of jewelry intensely. Then, she held it in front of her father. “Here, father. I don’t think I’m worthy of holding onto this precious heirloom as it symbolizes true love, and I, unfortunately, don’t have that. Not anymore.” She stated; her voice so quiet and destroyed as she dragged herself out of the king’s study.

The door slowly closed, letting out this painful creak before shutting and leaving the king alone with his thoughts.

He gazed at the ring, marveling at its beauty while his mind recalled his interaction with his daughter. He had never seen his daughter so utterly destroyed. Not even when the tabloids reported horrific and untrue things about her.

This Seokjin fellow damaged his daughter to the point that she finally waved the white flag.

And before this deal between father-daughter began, he would’ve been ecstatic. He got his wish.

Princess Sumin wedded to Prince Namjoon.

But now?

He could see how much his child loved the duke, and at the end of the day, his daughter’s happiness meant the world to him.

Clearing his throat, the king called for his personal assistant as he tucked the ring away in his breast-pocket.

Minutes later, sounds of knocking bounced off the four walls of the royal office, followed by that awful creaking, signifying that the door slowly opened.

“Your majesty?”

“Ah, Marshall. I need you to collect everything you know of Seokjin, duke of Birch Ridge, and the rest of his royal family.”

“Sir?”

“I believe that his cousin, Eun Ji, and her family rule over Ilqero.”

“Yes, your majesty.”

Then, as Marshall turned to leave the office, the king stopped him.

“Oh, and Marshall.”

“Sire?”

“This conversation never happened. Understood?”

Marshall simply nodded, understanding that his master wanted nothing but discretion. He bid the king a goodnight before leaving his presence.

Releasing the tension in his face with a relaxed sigh, the king walked over to his office chair and slumped in it. He placed his hands on the armrests as he looked heavenward, his gaze focused on the stationed ceiling fan.

Then, out of nowhere, a fond smile danced across his face as he imagined how happy his daughter would be after he completed his secret mission.

“I just hope I’m not too late…” He mused, shutting his eyes as he continued picturing his daughter’s beaming expression as he walked her down the aisle.

Slowly, the beautiful, luminescent moon descended toward the ocean as the stars faded into the cover of darkness. The waves relaxed, softly crashing into the cliff as the pitch black, night sky gradually lightened up. It was as if a painter took a large paintbrush dipped in white paint and softened the harshness of the dark sky. Soon, gorgeous strokes of orange mixed with red decorated the once night sky. In the horizon, a spot of yellowish-orange peeked its head slightly from underneath the cold, salty water, and as the minutes rolled by, that spot raised towards the sky, brightening up the beautiful planet and all that inhabit it.

A soft breeze traveled through the vacant castle ground as it made its way towards a specific window. It brushed by the lavender laced curtains and fanned a certain princess’s sleeping face. The cold wind stirred the exhausted girl from her slumber as she slowly fluttered her swollen eyes open.

Small groans escaped her lips as she glanced at her clock with a tired gaze.

“It’s barely 8 A.M.” She mumbled as she pulled the covers over her splotchy face and went back to sleep.

Unfortunately, someone else decided it was time to wake up. This annoying, repeating knock bounced off the walls of the princess’s simple yet elegantly decorated room. The mentally tired princess prayed that the intruder would get the hint and leave, but no. Not even a minute later, after the banging stopped, her bedroom door practically flung wide open.

“Sumin, what are you doing still asleep?” questioned the queen as she strode over to her daughter’s bed and ripped off the covers. “Ah, why is your face all puffy?” She added, beckoning over Sumin’s personal maid, “Miss, please rid of all evidence of my child’s sobbing and—”

“MOM! I say this out of love, but enough! I just got my heartbroken last night, and I really do not want to plan my wedding to Namjoon right this minute! Okay? Please. Just be a normal parent and comfort me. Dad did last night. Why can’t you?”

Sumin’s emotionally inspired speech left her mom in utter awe as this look of embarrassment washed over the queen’s face. Her daughter was honestly right. Ever since her child turned 18, she lost sight of what it meant to be a mother. She went from ensuring her daughter’s happiness and learning essential life lessons to full wedding planner mode. All she cared about was the royal wedding that she completely ignored how unhappy Sumin indeed was.

What kind of mother was she? What type of parent disregarded her child’s happiness?

A terrible one…that’s who…

Snapping back into reality, the queen dismissed her daughter’s maid and sat in the corner of the bed, gesturing for Sumin to sit up.

“I am so sorry for being a terrible mother, Minnie.”

“It’s okay, mom. I’m sure I would’ve done the same if it was a parent and needed to secure my child’s future reign.”

Then, the queen softly shook her head, telling Sumin to not make excuses for her horrid behavior and actions.

“While, yes, I am the queen and need to do what is best for our kingdom, I am, first and foremost, a mother. A mother’s duty is making sure that their child is happy, and I have failed you.”

A soft smile graced Sumin’s face as she reached over and gently took her mother’s hands.

“I forgive you, mom. Starting today, let’s have a clean slate—no more unprompted appearances with the royal dressmaker. No more stacks of wedding magazines magically appearing on my desk, and finally, no more talking about potential wedding destinations. Got it?” stated the princess, voicing her terms of condition.

Slowly, the queen nodded her head as a gracious smile danced across her beautiful face.

Then, she held out her hand for her daughter to shake, symbolizing that the elderly woman agreed to her daughter's terms.

“Deal.”

Later that afternoon, Sumin shockingly found herself combing through the many scattered wedding catalogs. After her stimulating morning conversation with her mother, the princess randomly felt the urge to look through countless magazines. After all, Sumin accepted the fact that she was going to meet Namjoon at the altar—not Seokjin.

Currently flipping through the seventh bridal magazine with pursed lips and knitted brows, Sumin sighed loudly as she carelessly tossed the catalog aside. Only ideas for a Spring wedding filled the pages. Yeah, that would definitely be helpful…if she and Namjoon wanted a Spring wedding.

With a deadpan expression, the frustrated young woman reached over for yet another bridal magazine until suddenly, her laptop repeatedly pinged, notifying the princess that she had an incoming video call with someone. But who?

Swiftly closing the bridal catalog, Sumin slid it to the side of her desk before unlocking her laptop. Tiny creases formed on her forehead as curiosity settled within her face as the princess wondered who would be calling her. She told both Sowon and Jae Hwa that she would reach out to them in a few days as she still needed time to heal.

It couldn’t be Namjoon either as she told him that she would seek him out sometime next week since they needed to scout places to host their reception.

So that left one person…

Seokjin…

But that stupid duke ended things between them, so it made little to no sense for him to reach out to her.

Unless…

Without a moment to lose, Sumin fixed her appearance, positioning her hair in a way that made her look attractive. She double-checked that the puffiness in her eyes wholly vanished. She then lightly pinched her cheeks, causing this rosy tint to slowly creep on her face.

And once she deemed herself presentable, she answered the call, brightly smiling.

“Oh, my God, Sumin?! You’re such a liar! You said that you would invite me to your birthday ball, but I didn’t get an invitation! I am quite offended, young lady!” shouted a familiar voice, but it didn’t belong to the one person that she yearned for—Kim Seokjin.

It did – however – belong to a certain duchess, who became part of the royal family after her marriage to Prince Jinwoo of the kingdom of Ahora.

Eun Byeol.

Without realizing it, Sumin’s eyes went round as she leaned forward, wanting to get a better look at her good friend. Her mouth fell slightly open as she was in complete awe with how much Eun Byeol changed in the last year. She looked incredibly gorgeous for a married woman.

“Eun Byeol! How have you been?” asked Sumin, beaming from excitement.

“I’m doing well! Jinwoo is right across from me if you want to say hi!” announced the duchess, swiveling her laptop and displaying her handsome husband, who smiled politely and waved.

Sumin chuckled softly, finding their interaction adorable, though, she couldn’t help but feel a tad envious of their relationship. The two of them looked and behaved like they were utterly in love. Then, as the princess stared at her screen, the more the envious thoughts grew and soon developed into feelings of longing—a sense of desire for a certain duke that Sumin knew deep down that it was unfortunately over.��

“If it’s over…then why can’t I let you go…?” mumbled the now troubled princess, unknowingly alerting her dear friend.

“Let who go, Min?”

“It’s…maybe you can help me, Byeol.”

Eun Byeol quickly said, “of course,” before kicking her husband out of the room, however, as the prince walked out, Sumin stopped him. She then explained to the duchess that she actually needed advice from the two of them since Prince Jinwoo married someone who wasn’t a princess, which, up until their marriage, was unheard of in Ahora.

Eun Byeol always did like breaking the rules and challenging the monarchy.

Sumin just thought her buddy would do that in a kingdom that welcomed challenges. Not in a realm that strove off traditions, but then again, Eun Byeol was what Ahora surprisingly needed to usher them into a new era. Now, the citizens were happy as ever, and their economy was incredibly strong and stable.

Which made the princess think if those results would appear if Sumin married Seokjin.

Running her fingers through her semi-wavy hair, the frustrated princess swiftly shook away all thoughts of that irresistible jerk before asking the married couple a few questions. Questions that ranged from Jinwoo’s parents' initial reaction to Eun Byeol to how their subjects reacted to the engagement announcement.

Both Jinwoo and Eun Byeol hummed in response; their lips thinned as their gaze flickered towards one another.

“Uh. Well. At first, my parents did everything and anything to ruin our relationship. They even introduced me to another princess, but I immediately terminated that blossoming ‘romance’ as I could not see myself with no one else but my little star.” Replied Jin Woo before placing a sweet kiss on his wife’s temple, causing the little lady to blush profusely. “Eventually, my parents accepted Eun Byeol in the royal family, and now they even like her more than me.” He added, lightly joking about the 180 his parents did.

Eun Byeol nodded, smiling brightly as she agreed with everything that her husband said.

“Does this help, Min?” asked the duchess, hoping that their words helped shed some sort of light for the troubled princess.

Sadly, it didn’t.

If anything, it strengthened Sumin’s desire for Seokjin and made her question her rash decisions.

“Is it too late to back out of my words, Byeol?”

“Last time I checked, you’re the princess between us two; therefore, you can legit do anything that you want.”

Sumin whined, burying her face in her arms. Then, she peeked up, only revealing her chocolate-colored eyes.

“If that’s true, then can you introduce me to anyone that won’t cause me any problems.”

“Well, I have a friend and fellow prince, named Myung Jun, but my other comrades and I call him MJ.” Piped up Jin Woo, flashing a friendly smile. “You two might make a nice couple.” He added.

Eun Byeol rolled his eyes and lightly smacked her husband before shooting him a dirty look. Jinwoo asked what that was for, rubbing his injured bicep and pouting cutely. The annoyed duchess kindly explained that Sumin needed a man that would give something more than just the title of a “nice couple.”

“A princess needs someone who not only makes her unconditionally happy but who also challenges her to become a better version of herself. Kind of like how I am with you.” Eun Byeol further explains, unintentionally planting seeds of realization into Sumin’s confused brain.

Then, like clockwork, Sumin shot up straight with widened eyes.

Both Eun Byeol and Jinwoo snapped their attention on Sumin, concerned for the princess.

“I don’t want to go through with my wedding to Namjoon,” Sumin muttered, panting slightly.

“Min?”

“I want to marry Seokjin because…”

“Because?”

“I am in love with him, and I can’t imagine myself with no one else but him.”

Slowly, a look of relief washed over the princess’s face as this gentle smile danced across her face.

Suddenly, she shot up from her seat, and not even seconds later, a knock was heard in the princess’s office.

“Well, duties call. I’ll video chat with you this weekend. Sounds good?”

Eun Byeol simply nodded, waving goodbye to her friend before disconnecting from the video call.

Sumin closed her laptop and shouted a quick, “enter,” granting permission to enter her office.

“Your highness.” Greeted her father’s personal assistant, respectfully bowing his head.

“Hey, Marshall! How’s everything going with my old man?” asked the princess, stepping away from her desk and striding up to the elderly gentleman.

Marshall released this airy chuckle as he playfully shook his head. He always did love the princess as if she were his own daughter—the joy of working alongside the royal family since the queen’s pregnancy with Sumin.

He had the privilege of watching the princess grow up to be this beautiful, confident young woman.

Speaking of beautiful…

The assistant quickly fished for something in his breast pocket, and once he felt the cold piece of jewelry, he held out in front of Sumin.

Sumin froze slightly. She didn’t expect to see it this soon…

“Prince Namjoon wanted me to give you this.”

Remaining silent, the shocked princess simply held out her hand and allowed Marshall to drop the ring into her palm. With her free hand, she picked up the engagement ring and held it between her thumb and index finger.

“It’s quite extravagant, is it not? Judging by your silence, I am guessing that you love it, and I will relay a thankful message to the princess.”

Snapping into her senses, Sumin eyed Marshall with nothing but confusion written all over her face.

“Your highness?”

“What happened to my ancestor’s engagement ring?”

“Oh, Queen Sumin’s ring?” Marshall let out a small hum, “Ah. Your father gave it to Seokjin and told him to fight for you. Then, once the duke’s successful, the king gave him his blessing to propose to you.”

Slowly, the princess nodded her head as if she didn’t quite hear her dad’s assistant correctly.

Then, it finally registered in her precious mind.

“My dad did what?!”

70 notes · View notes

saiilorstars · 4 years ago

Text

Dare To Forget Me

Ch. 23: Tangled

/ Previous chapters /

Fandom: Law & Order SVU

Pairing: Rafael Barba x Female OC

Warnings: Due to the nature of the series’ plots, I do have to rate this as ‘mature’ for constant mentions of rape.

~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ` 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~

Chapter Summary: Clare Wilson's case continues to get more and more tangled, but that's nothing compared to what Montserrat and Rafael have going on.

Alright, so plans weren't turning out so well...for some people. Others actually got to where they needed to be on time. Like a professional does.

Montserrat practically ran down a hallway, slowing down only when she saw Rafael coming out of Judge Dolan's office. He looked peeved...and this time with good reasons.

"Where the hell is Rollins?" he demanded from the detective who was out of breath.

"I... don't know…" he took in a deep breath. "I just got a call from Liv and I dragged my ass out here."

"No good, you're still late," his snap was met with a glare.

"Hey, at least I'm here. And did I mention you're crankier in the mornings? Didn't think that was possible, by the way."

Rafael ignored her and led the way down the hallway. "We need to get Clare out now."

Still, Montserrat had to follow him. "Dolan signed the release forms?"

"Yes. I got him to do it because I was here on time," he purposely said loudly.

"You should be grateful I'm here," she snapped this time. "It wasn't my turn."

"Sorry," he scoffed. "Didn't know my presence was so bothersome to you that you had to tag team now."

"Don't be like that, please," she moved up so she could walk alongside him instead of behind. Her plead had come not in a snap, nor a demand, but instead in a way that sounded exactly like what it was: a plead.

Against his will, Rafael was forced to calm his snaps. It was that little effect she had on him that he wished she didn't. Because if she didn't, then it would be a lot easier to put some distance between them. It would be so much easier to show her that he was not the right person for her.

"Let's just go get Clare and go home," he said calmer but still put a bit more speed into his walk to leave her behind. It was simply for the best.

~0~

With Amanda being a confirmed no-show, Montserrat was the one to go directly to the officers in charge of the juvenile facility to get Clare back. There she was at the front desk, anxiously giving out Clare's information to get her back.

"Mm, one of those," the officer hummed after pulling up the right profile.

Montserrat made a face at the woman. "What does that mean?"

The officer ignored the question and moved on to what she found. "You're a little late. Yeah, she started acting up, so we gave her diesel therapy." At Montserrat's blank face, the officer elaborated. "Put her on a bus to Knollwood Juvenile."

"And where's that?"

"The Delaware border," the officer's rude manner pushed Montserrat more than where she already was.

The detective glared with a crinkled nose. "Well, thank you for nothing." She turned away and ignored the officer's face. She made it back to Rafael and told him what happened and of course had his first outraged response all to herself.

"Are you kidding me!?" he looked ready to go to the officer himself.

"Nothing I can do! She's out of our reach-"

Rafael brought a hand to his forehead and rubbed circles over it. "Maybe if you or Rollins had been here on time we would've caught her."

"Woah, I know you are not blaming me for this," she stepped closer to him and glared.

But like before, they were evenly matched.

He stepped closer as well and leveled her glare with his own. "Were you here on time? Was Rollins?"

"It wasn't my call," she said slowly. She was well aware of their proximity but this time he had her so irritated she wanted to smack him not kiss him. "Amanda was meant to be in. I had plans! I had the day off!"

"Oh, excuse me, then," Rafael sarcastically said as he backed away. He did it for measures though. "What plans did you have that were more important than your job?"

"Seeing my brother who's been gone for an entire month," Montserrat spat, and did technically get through to the man. "Gael and Damien were on a business trip, remember? We even celebrated my birthday earlier because they weren't sure if they would be back before my birthday."

Yup, Rafael did remember that. Dammit. He inwardly sighed and started regretting all the animosity he spewed. "I'm sorry."

"I was supposed to be out today so I could see him. So sorry if it got in your way," Montserrat pushed past him towards the door.

Rafael thought about going after her but he knew she'd never listen to him right now. He'd be lucky if she did even when she was angry with him. Why couldn't Rollins just have gotten here like planned? he would think endlessly on the way home.

~0~

Hearing they missed Clare, Olivia decided to go straight for the girl herself in her new prison. She took Nick with her, in hopes of finally getting the girl back. In the meantime, when Amanda finally showed up later that day (much, much later), everyone had their go at her. But no one was more irritated than Montserrat.

"I got yelled at because you didn't show up!" the ginger was shouting in Amanda's face. "I had plans, too, you know."

Amanda had a headache. It was a terrible, terrible headache that was borderline a migraine. She nursed a cup of coffee and just nodded as Montserrat yelled at her. When Montserrat was done, the ginger returned to her desk and plopped down while she waited for Amanda to finally speak.

"I'm sorry, guys. Something came up," Amanda said. Yeah, betting did. "It was irresponsible not to call in. That's my bad."

"Yeah," Montserrat snapped.

"Are you alright, Rollins?" Fin eyed the blonde woman with some concern. earlier in the day when they had first gotten word Amanda did not show up to Hudson county, Nick had talked to him on the side about Amanda's recent odd behavior. At the time, then just brushed Nick's words off. But now, looking at Amanda, he was beginning to think Nick was right in some sense.

Amanda seemed huddled as she took her seat at her desk. Even her nod is kind of off. "Yeah. Just not my best day." She glanced over at Montserrat, genuinely looking sorry for putting the ginger into that situation. "I'm sorry, Montserrat. I didn't mean to ruin your day."

Montserrat didn't say anything but she sensed Amanda's honesty. It wasn't so much that she had to cancel her plans with her brother, as it was that she'd been forced to be with Rafael when she was clearly not ready because all she seemed to do was argue with him, even more now. And that was saying something.

"Let's just focus on Perry's connections, shall we?" Sonny eventually asked after the silence became too awkward.

It was really the best they could do to push away the hard feelings. However, after a few hours they got a call from a very angry Olivia who ordered them to do some digging on the new prison Clare was in, Knollwood. As soon as they had something concrete, they were to meet her with Rubirosa and Rafael.

Olivia was livid even after they met her. And as she told the group how they found Clare's new prison, it just got her riled up even more. "Forget about releasing Clare. They wouldn't even let us see her!"

Nick, who was a bit more calm than Olivia, added, "They said she was in solitary. And she's staying in there no matter what."

"We called a contact at Jersey DOC, but he said Knollwood sets its own rules," Fin said.

"Knollwood's a private facility?" Rafael asked, even though he assumed the answer based on everything Olivia had told them so far (well, raged about).

"Oh yeah, owned and operated," Sonny answered. "The state pays per prisoner each day that they're there."

"It's pretty lucrative," Amanda remarked as she picked up a file she and Montserrat worked on before coming. It was the only way they wouldn't argue and once they found out more about Knollwood, setting aside their differences wasn't that hard. "They hit record profits just last quarter. So the more prisoners they get, the more money they make."

"And they're not exactly putting those profits back into the facility or rehab," Montserrat crinkled her nose as she remembered the details and accompanying photographs they'd found in their research.

"We get that," Rafael said dismissively while he went through his own paperwork.

Montserrat gave him a look for that. "No-" that sharpness made him involuntarily wince and look up to meet her hardened gaze, "-you really don't. There have been dozens of attempted teenage suicides. There's allegations of drug abuse, violence, sexual abuse-"

"-can we just put reforming the for-profit prison system on hold and focus on Clare?" he managed to cut through, not that it made Montserrat any happier.

"I was getting to that, Counselor," she smiled sarcastically. "If you'd let me talk. So every judge in Jersey- they send a few kids there a year, but Judge Dolan - 90% of his juveniles end up there."

"So the judge is funneling them business," Rubirosa got in and asked the winning question. "What's Knollwood funneling back to him?"

"We'll get back to you on that," Amanda made an apologetic face.

"And the Perry money trail?" asked Rafael.

"We have forensic accountants tearing his books apart, but he still won't give us the name of Clare's rapist," Sonny said. "And he had the Hudson County legal system railroad Clare. I mean, whoever this rapist is, he has serious hooks."

Olivia understood that and it made her even angrier they couldn't get to him. "So, Fin, Amaro, Carisi, keep hitting Perry. Novak, Rollins, keep digging at Knollwood. In the meantime-" she turned to the two ADAs, "-do you guys have any plan at all to get Clare out of there?"

Judging by Rubirosa's face, it appeared she'd been thinking about it for a while now. "I'm gonna get a forthwith order releasing Clare to New York's DOC."

"How is that any different from the last one?" Montserrat curiously asked.

"Even if she's in solitary, the warden will have to release her immediately."

Montserrat nodded and, very lowly, whispered to Sonny, "She's good." Sonny knew she had to have hated making that admission considering how she felt towards Rubirosa.

~0~

Thankfully, Rubirosa followed through and allowed SVU to finally take Clare somewhere safe. At this point, it was back to the hospital so she could rest and get back to normal health. Prison had done a number on her again.

"They drugged me," Clare said with a scratch voice. She'd been given a room in the hospital for her to peacefully rest in and was now receiving a visit from Montserrat. "They said I was out of control. I mean, I know I'm no white dove but…I didn't deserve that."

Montserrat watched the girl's eyes get watery and felt rage towards the prison ward, as well as the whole situation in general. "I'm so sorry, Clare, but we're working on bringing Perry down right now."

"Did he tell you the name of my rapist?"

"...no," Montserrat watched the little hope Clare had leave her body with slumped shoulders. "But we will, okay? We told you we're not giving up on you, remember?"

"You guys got me out of there," Clare said, reminding herself that even though they did get the chance to abandon her they didn't. "It was awful there."

"I heard," Montserrat said sadly.

"They dry-celled me in solitary. There was no running water. They called it the brown room. I had to sleep on the floor with no blankets. The other kids - everyone had bruises," Clare looked down at her arms which, surprisingly, bore no said bruises. "I guess I got lucky in that department."

"You're never going back there again, I promise," Montserrat got up from her seat to check her buzzing phone. "That's my partner. We may have gotten a breakthrough somewhere. I'll come back, okay?"

Clare nodded and smiled at the detective. "Thanks for being here."

"Of course," Montserrat offered a smile of her own then headed out of the room. As soon as she was outside the room, she sighed. She just kept thinking about her niece and it sickened her that no one else was watching out for Clare.

~ 0 ~

By the time Montserrat returned to the precinct, the group was already at the conference table discussing their recent findings on Perry.

"How was Clare?" Olivia asked her once she joined them.

"In honesty, she's had a rough few days," Montserrat sighed. "But I think she'll be good now, even more so if we manage to catch her rapist."

"Well, maybe we're getting there," Amanda walked over to the board of their case. "The Masconis are the ones getting the money from Knollwood."

"So did we get anywhere with Perry's byzantine financial system?" Montserrat looked at the men who'd been in charge of that.

"No, but we decided to take an alternate route," Fin said. "We took a look at Judge Dolan's finances."

"Hm, let me guess. Beatrice D'Avola's PR firm pays him as a consultant?" Olivia asked.

"No, money flows the other way."

"Four years ago, the Judge starts writing checks to local assemblymen, the Governor as well. 40 grand a year," Sonny relayed from one document they'd been able to get.

"The Governor?" Rafael stopped him, as if to mean for Sonny to check his details again.

"He's the one who appoints county prosecutors," Rubirosa pointed out. "With the advice of local assemblymen. A lot of money for a family court judge."

"He had to take out a second mortgage," Nick shared with them.

"What, for campaign contributions? He still writing checks?"

"No, he stopped two years ago."

"And that's when Knollwood hired the PR firm owned by Masconi's mother-in-law," Montserrat was catching up on the files on the table. She crinkled her nose at that detail and looked up to see if they'd caught on with it too.

"And when Dolan starts dumping every juvie he comes across into Knollwood," Fin agreed with her.

"So Masconi says 'Jump' and Dolan says 'How high'?" Olivia was liking they were finally getting somewhere with the case. The deeper they were into the case, the more they could get for each culprit.

"What does he have on him?" Rubirosa leaned against the table, her dark eyes flickering from one picture on the board to the next.

Rafael came to stand beside her and gazed at the board himself. Well, like any group of criminals there was always the strong and the weak, the boss and the lackeys. "Masconi, Perry- they're old-school thugs. Dolan bullies teenage girls. Let's hit the weak link."

Montserrat had the misfortune of witnessing the brief smirk he shared with Rubirosa. She didn't like it.

~ 0 ~

"You're jealous?" Kara had no regards for prudence or plain kindness. She just laughed while the two set dinner at the table, six plates, while Montserrat practically slammed the forks down beside each plate.

"Funny, I was under the impression that you were my best friend who would not laugh at my misery," Montserrat's quiet sarcasm was responded with another small laugh.

"I'm sorry, but it's too funny."

"My misery?"

"Hey, if you would've listened before, then none of this would've happened."

"Except it would have because Rafael would have still said the same things he did now," Montserrat put the last of the utensils down. She brought her hands up to her hair that she pushed back. "Oh my God, this is ridiculous. If I hadn't kissed him none of this would be happening."

"But you would be stuck in an endless 'what if' pit," Kara pointed out, much more serious now that she saw how stressed Montserrat was.

"But it's got to be better than this, right?" Montserrat dropped her hands and pressed them against the table to lean forwards on. "Here I am being jealous of some woman who's just doing her job. And when I'm not being jealous, I'm arguing with Rafael. Anything would have been better than this. It's got to be."

Kara stared at her friend with sorrow. "Okay," she moved around the table and gently turned Montserrat around. "I know that's how you feel, but I know that getting it off your chest was the better choice, you know it too. It's hard, but it will pass. And whatever happens, you'll know you made the right choice."

Montserrat swallowed hard and pushed away any tears threatening to fall from her eyes. "Yeah…" she whispered.

There was an exciting knock on the door from one four year old calling out, "Auntie Montse! I have a new game! Auntie Montse!"

Kara chuckled. "Love her. You want me to wait a minute-"

Montserrat shook her head. "No, go answer it. I'm good." She drew in a breath while Kara walked towards the door. They were having dinner with their brothers, and Montserrat's nieces, and this was something she didn't want to ruin. Some good family time was exactly what she needed.

As soon as Kara opened the door, Ivana Novak scurried into the apartment and went straight for her aunt. Montserrat bent down to pick the girl up in time.

"Auntie Montse! I've got Candyland! Do you want to play!?"

"Where's my hug and kiss first?" Montserrat's demand was met immediately with one brief tight hug and a sloppy kiss on the cheek.

"We can play now!?"

Montserrat laughed, a genuine laugh too. "Maybe after dinner, okay?"

Ivana nodded and was promptly set back on the floor. Montserrat moved on to hug Kara's brother, Damien, and then her brother, Gael.

"Please tell me you fixed your WiFi," Juliana's remark was practically ignored by Montserrat who pulled her into a tight hug. "Uh, okay…" Juliana was taken aback by the tightness of the hug. "Aunt Montse, are you alright?"

"Sorry," Montserrat pulled away from the teenager and looked at the others apologetically. "I have a case with a girl who reminds me of you, Julia. She's a year older than you but...she's had it tough."

"Oh god, what happened to her?"

"Lots of things, sweetie," Montserrat brought her, and prompted the others, towards the table. "We just got her out of prison after she'd been deprived of food and water, and sleep…"

"That's awful," Juliana made a face as she sat down. "Is she going to be okay now?"

"Course she is," Damien answered before Montserrat could. He smiled at the ginger. "Because your aunt's on the case now."

Montserrat smiled softly. "Thanks."

"C'mon, let's have some dinner," Kara said as she emerged from the kitchen with a tray of casserole.

"That smells good, Kara," Gael sniffed the air, along with Ivana. He could never deny that wasn't his daughter.

"I've been learning how to cook with Sonny," Kara proudly set the tray on the table.

"Yup, I'll give her that," Montserrat nodded. "We haven't had to call the firefighters in months now." Kara smacked her shoulder, making the others laugh.

"Just start serving or at least give me the spoon," Damien said as he searched for the spoon himself.

"I want to go first!" Ivana raised her hand and started getting up on her chair when Gael gently made her sit again.

"So Montse, was your birthday fun?"

Montserrat, who'd been drinking out of her glass, nearly choked on it when the subject changed. "What?" she looked at her brother with wide eyes. "Why? What have you heard?"

"Montse," Kara mumbled for the woman to get it together.

Gael was indeed staring at her sister. Montserrat cleared her throat and answered much calmer, "I...it was okay. It's never really fun turning 30, right?"

"I remember that," Damien nudged Gael on the side. "Remember our 30th?"

"I'd rather not," Gael agreed with a nod.

"I'm mad I didn't get to go to your party," Juliana crossed her arms, rather upset until Kara put a slice of casserole on her plate.

"It was at a bar," Montserrat reminded her. "No way your grandfather would let you go."

"Done good," Gael pointed. "But Montse, here's a gift I picked up. Juliana, sweetie?" Juliana nodded and got up from her chair to go retrieve a paper bag they'd left near the couch.

"A present?" Montserrat glanced to see her niece picking up the bag. "Oh no, please-"

"It's late, but I hope you like it," Gael took the bag from Juliana.

"Just so you know, I made sure it was good," Juliana warned Montserrat as she went back to her seat. "You know how men are with their gifts."

Montserrat chuckled as she reached a hand inside the bag. She pulled out a white rectangular box that she gingerly placed on the table. Inside she found a personalized, silver glass photo frame with a photo of herself, her father, Gael, the girls and Casey. To its right was an engraved phrase that read 'Our family may be small, but we are mighty' in Slovak, their home language.

"Oh that is beautiful, Gael!" Montserrat gawked. She remembered that photo from a birthday picnic they had for their father's birthday last year. "I love this!"

"Let me see!" Kara wiggled her fingers to get the frame. She tilted her head while she tried to read the foreign language. "What's that say?"

Montserrat took back the frame and read aloud, "Naša rodina môže byť malá, ale sme mocní. We may be small, but we are mighty."

"Aww, that's so cute," Kara chuckled.

"Okay, well, open mine now," Damien surprised her with his own gift that apparently fit inside his jacket.

"Guys…" Montserrat looked guilty for taking more presents, but no one seemed to care. Damien handed his present, shaped as a small box, to Montserrat. With a sigh, she took it and lifted its lid to find an emerald Kate Spade watch inside. It had light pink jewels on the glass of the watch. When Montserrat turned it over, she found her name engraved on the back. "Wow…" she blinked. "I…"

"Do you like it?" Damien seemed eager to hear the answer.

"Are you kidding? I love it," Montserrat laughed. "I'll probably wear this everyday!"

"That's the idea!"

Montserrat smiled at him then the others. For the next few hours, she'd finally get some peace.

~ 0 ~

The weakest link turned out to be even more fragile than Rafael had thought. Mere hours after Amanda and Fin visited Judge Dolan, the news of his suicide spread like wildfire through the media.

"This photo is probably why Judge Dolan killed himself," Amanda showed the group a picture of said judge with a 12 year old on his lap. "It was sent to him right before he killed himself.

Rubirosa took a closer look at the girl in the picture. "I know this girl. I saw her file. Miyako Nara, she was born into a massage parlor, passed around early."

"Where is this girl now?" Olivia asked.

"She disappeared four years ago. No trace of her since."

"Four years ago?" repeated Rafael, sounding like he'd just made a connection the others hadn't yet. "That's when Dolan started paying off Masconi's political cronies."

"Okay, now we know what Masconi has on Dolan," Nick said.

"Yeah but if they're smart then they definitely didn't send that picture on his own phone, right?" Montserrat watched Amanda shake her head. "Yeah."

"But the photo looks like a surveillance still from a private room at a strip club," Sonny pointedly looked at the group, reminding them what link they still had in their possession. "Miyako used to work at Perry's Jersey City club."

"All roads lead to Perry," Olivia bitterly said.

"Well, maybe Perry will talk now that Dolan's out of the picture," Montserrat suggested another round with the man.

"Worth a shot," Rubirosa agreed with her.

~ 0 ~

Clare shuddered a breath when she stepped into the lineup room to pick out the man who raped her. She couldn't believe they'd actually gotten him and that now it was just up to her to pick him out.

"Whenever you're ready," Montserrat gently brought the girl up to the glass.

Clare only needed to look once before she spotted the familiar man. "It's him, number three."

"Are you sure?" Olivia asked.

Clare nodded, swallowing roughly. "He raped me in the VIP room. It's like he thought I was part of the deal."

"Are we done here?" ADA Gina Masconi, Masconi's wife, moved forwards but Montserrat blocked the way to Clare. "I would like a word with my client."

"You mean your husband?" Olivia raised an eyebrow. "You're still standing by your man, Counselor?"

"Get some self respect," Montserrat muttered but was heard just fine by Masconi. "I'm going to bring Clare back to the group home. I'll be back later."

Olivia nodded for her to go and wished Clare well before they did.

~ 0 ~

"So the man who raped me is the prosecutor who charged me with fraud?" Clare felt like her head would hurt if she kept thinking about it. Montserrat was walking her down the group home hallway, back to her old room.

"Yeah, and the judge that put you away was being blackmailed by him," Montserrat added, but didn't expect Clare to remark about it. "I'm sorry. New Jersey- they're never gonna clean it up."

"But I'm safe now. They can't charge me?" Clare asked, stopping by the threshold of her room. "They can't send me back to Knollwood?"

"Absolutely not," Montserrat promised since she could see the fear of the idea in Clare's eyes. "And the feds assured us that they're gonna investigate Knollwood. We might free more of the kids inside there."

"Can you trust those guys?"

Montserrat bobbed her head for a few seconds. "Well, my friend seems to and, despite his irritating habits, he knows his stuff."

"So what happens now?" Clare stepped inside the room, and suddenly it didn't look so small like before.

"You start your new life. Go get your GED. Maybe go to college?"

Clare shrugged but Montserrat could see the smile on the girl's face. "With my view. There's my tree." She walked up to the window to peer out. She might go out later.

Montserrat felt her phone buzz inside her pocket so she pulled it out to read a text message. She quickly type back and put the phone back in her pocket. "So listen," at her voice, Clare turned sideways, "I know that being a teenager is hard enough, so...I may have done something to try and help."

"Like what?" Clare crossed her arms and waited for it.

"Well, that thing about your GED? I think I may have someone who could help you study and, I don't know, just be a friend?"

Clare looked at the detective suspiciously and even more so when she spotted a teenage girl with light red hair coming into the room.

"Clare, this is my niece, Juliana," Montserrat brought Juliana further into the room.

"Hey, you can call me Jules if you'd like," Juliana's nonchalant greeting made wonders for Clare. Everyone else in the group home seemed to have this pity look for her.

"Okay…" Clare's eyes flickered to Montserrat. "What's she doing here?"

Juliana covered her aunt's mouth - which she got a glare from Montserrat for - to speak with the right words. "Look, I know you've been through some tough stuff so my aunt thought it would be nice if you had someone to show you around the city. You know, like the fun parts?"

Clare somehow found a smile. "You can do that?"

"My Dad's okay with it but I need to check in every once in a while. Plus, I know where the best diner is in these parts. Have you ever tried french fries with milkshakes?"

"No...because I'm a sane person...in what fits."

"It'll blow your mind," Juliana made a motion above her head like if something were exploding.

"Okay," Clare nodded, seemingly getting into the idea. "Thanks."

"No problem!" Juliana smiled. She glanced at her aunt to see she was doing the same thing.

~ 0 ~

"Done deal, case closed," Amanda seemed to be in a hurry to leave the bullpen. She was gathering her things on her desk, ignoring what the others were planning for the night.

"We could get some drinks?" Sonny was asking the detectives, along with Olivia and Rafael. He spotted Montserrat coming in and called out to her, "Hey, how'd it go with Clare?"

"Um, I think she'll be good," Montserrat leaned against the side of her desk. "I introduced her to Juliana and I think that might help Clare get back to some normality."

"That's good, girl needs it," Fin nodded.

"And your brother's okay with this?" Olivia raised an eyebrow, making a good question.

"He knows I'd never put Juliana in danger," Montserrat smiled. "I think it could be good for Clare. And Juliana actually wanted to help."

"Alright, well, I gotta go," Amanda finally slung her bag over her shoulder. "See y'all tomorrow."

"Rollins, you're not going…?" Nick trailed off since the blonde left without hearing anything else. He turned his chair to the others and pointed behind for Amanda. "I'm not the only one who sees that, right? Something's wrong with Rollins."

"I think you just need to focus on yourself, Amaro," Rafael said. Nick rolled his eyes in response.

"Yeah, so how about them drinks?" Sonny pushed himself up from his seat.

"You don't have a date with Kara today?" Montserrat gave him a suspicious look. "You blow off my roommate, I kill you. You know that, right?"

Sonny playfully rolled his eyes at her. "One moment you're on me about actually having a relationship with Kara and then you're suddenly upset because I'm not paying attention to her?"

Montserrat shrugged her shoulders. "It depends on my mood."

Sonny deadpanned her and concluded he needed that drink now. "I'm leaving. Anyone joining?"

"Me," Fin raised a hand and got up. Nick agreed and started getting his jacket.

"How about you, Liv? Councilor?" Sonny gave a look at the two in question then one for Montserrat. "Montse?"

"I'm good, thanks," Montserrat said fast then looked to Rafael, as if letting him know he was free to go now since she'd declined.

Olivia declined as well, saying she was much too tired to think about drinking out from home. She was the next one to leave, but unlike Amanda she was in no apparent rush.

"Guess it's a guy's night out," Sonny shrugged and started leading the way.

"Can't see that turning out wrong," Montserrat sarcastically said, earning herself a look from Fin.

"Yeah, yeah," the man waved her off.

"Montserrat?" Rafael purposely lingered behind.

The woman, however, started getting her things with no intention of sticking around for another conversation that would inevitably turn into an argument. "You're free to go, Councilor. I wouldn't have said 'yes' anyways to drinks. I'm tired."

"But that's not what I'd like anyways," he said. "We can't go avoiding each other when we work together. And not being able to be in the same room together? Really?"

Montserrat didn't want to be frustrated, but it showed by the harsh way she stuffed her jacket into her bag. "Well, what do you suggest?" she looked up to meet his gaze. "Because it seems like whatever we do, we end up arguing anyways."

"I'm sorry-"

"-don't apologize. You just anger me more like that."

"Then I guess I should keep my mouth shut around you?"

"Maybe so."

Rafael deadpanned her before scolding her, "Montserrat, believe it or not it's not my intention to anger you, much less hurt you."

Montserrat seemingly discarded his apology to the side as she slung her bag over her shoulder. "Well you're doing a fantastic job here."

"I'm sorry," he said seriously. "You might not believe me, but I am sorry." Before she could toss that apology and leave, he grabbed her arm and made her look at him. "I know your birthday was never one you wanted to celebrate and I stupidly thought I could ease that night for you. But I just made things worse."

"I don't get why," Montserrat said quietly.

"I'm trying to help you," he clarified and for some reason, this time, she could believe him. She might not agree with him, but she could see the honesty in his eyes. "I don't want to ruin you."

"Why would you do that? How would you even do that to me?"

There was a weak smile on Rafael's face. "Why do you think Yelina and I didn't last? It's always me." Montserrat's face softened. She flinched, though, when he touched her face. "You know exactly who you're dealing with, Montserrat, and I don't want you to crash because of me. You're beautiful, you'll have no problem finding someone good."

His soft smile, coupled with his words, stunned Montserrat. In all her months working at SVU, spending time with him, he'd never been...like this. He was open, he was genuine...he was himself, not the sharp-tongue ADA she'd come to know.

Rafael withdrew his hand from her face and stared at her for a few minutes, almost making a mental picture of how close he had her, how she looked at him with her big, brown eyes...all to remember her, because the next time they would see each other they would be friends and nothing more.

It's over, Montserrat realized. No matter what she did, nor what she said, things were over and they never even really got started. "Okay," she said in a low whisper.

Rafael nodded and turned to leave when a tall, dark haired man walked into the bullpen. The man seemed to be lost until he looked at Rafael, only for Rafael to realize it wasn't him but Montserrat behind him the man was looking at.

"Jonah?" Montserrat blinked several times just to make sure she wasn't hallucinating. Her emotions were a bit out of place, after all.

A big smile came to the man's face. "Montserrat! So it was the right place!"

Montserrat hurried towards 'Jonah' to give him a hug, but her eyes were still wide from the shock of seeing him.

"No problem at all," Rafael mumbled under his breath as he walked out of the bullpen.

#ocappreciation #svu #rafael barba #svu fics #rafael barba fics #svu imagines #rafael barba imagines #oc: Montserrat Novak #fic: dare to forget me

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serenzippity · 5 years ago

Text

Viva

Words: 3022 Member: Eventual Hyungwon/OC, mentions of Wonho/OC, OC/ OC Genre: Angst Warning(s): Mentions of DV

Chapter Two

August 16th, 2019 Starship Entertainment Seoul, South Korea

A soft knock interrupted the stagnant quiet of my office. Despite its relatively quiet manner it still slightly jolted me from my seat. “Come in,” I called out, doing a quick once over to make sure that the collar of my shirt was fully buttoned, and the sleeves weren’t riding up in a way that would expose the fading colors that painted my skin. I held in a disappointed sigh as the door opened, forcing my stoic façade to fall into place.

In the threshold stood someone who looked extremely familiar, yet I couldn’t wholly place him. He strolled into my office with an aura of superiority. Walking in like he owned the building, the handsome guy held his head up with a small smirk as he sat down in a chair on the opposite side of my desk. The room was suddenly full of him, permeating every corner of it with borderline arrogance and the tangible feeling of luxury. Everything about him screamed pretentious and expensive, something that I have grown used to in both my marriage and professional life.

He instantly reminded me of my husband’s rich CEO friends, and it took everything inside me not to roll my eyes as he relaxed in my chair.

“Can I help you?” I asked, cocking an eyebrow at both his suffocating attitude and his sudden intrusion without an explanation. He leaned back, as if making himself at home, and looked me up and down in appraisal. I caught the tick immediately, shooting him a glare when his eyes left my chest and met mine.

“I was wondering,” he lazily said, as if his voice was dipped in honey, “if my contract had anything in it about what I can and cannot do with my hair?”

The moment he mentioned his contract I realized who he was. I recognized him from the dance practice that I interrupted, passings in the halls, and his simple idol status. I had been working for Starship for a little over a year and until yesterday I never had an idol in my office, and within a span of 24 hours, I had two sitting in the chairs across from me.

While Hoseok was timid and gave me an impression of humility, Chae Hyungwon sat across from me and gave me an impression of vanity. It was an interesting dichotomy, especially considering their public personas and bandmate status.

“Let me pull up your contract Mr. Chae,” I said casually as I grabbed my tablet. I didn’t want to blatantly show that I thought he had a vaguely irritating presence, needing to maintain a sense of decorum.

“Please call me Hyungwon.” He smiled at me and peering over the edge of my iPad I could see that it was meant to charm my pants off. However, all I saw was a smile that screamed danger. I tore my eyes away from his annoyingly handsome face and clicked away on the pad in silence, looking for the clause in question.

Finding it, I maximized the document and slid it across the desk to him. “Alright Mr. Chae,” his smile fell a little bit when I didn’t call him by his first name and I took that as a personal win, “it says here that while you do have to consult the head of your styling team and Hongsik, you do have free reign on what you’d like to do for each comeback.”

He took the iPad, finally dropping the charming smile to look at it and giving me a chance to let go of a breath that I didn’t even realize I was holding in. I watched him as he read over the words, taking him in from head to toe for the first time. From his curly black hair down to his jean-clad legs, I could see why the masses of Monbebes fell to their knees for him. He was gorgeous I begrudgingly admitted, and I hated myself the moment the thought formed in my head.

“So,” he drolled, placing the pad back on my desk, “As long as I don’t shave all my hair off I’ll be okay?”

“I assume so yes. Is there anything else I can help you with Mr. Chae?” My tone was dismissive, and I wanted his oddly suffocating presence out of my office.

He just smiled at me and gave me a slight nod before getting out of the chair. He paused in the doorway, turning to look at me with a smirk. “Thank you, Mrs. Hamlin. If I need any more legal advice I will let you know.” And with that, he turned and walked away before I could even form a coherent thought in my mind.

I stared at the doorway for a couple minutes, still not fully processing what had just happened. I was frozen in shock as the gears in my mind refused to turn. It took the shrill tone of my office phone to wake me up from my trance. Jumping almost a foot in the air I scrambled to grab the receiver, thrusting myself quickly back into the swing of my work.

I looked at contracts for new dancers for a couple more hours, scratching and revising them with trained eyes and a steady red pen. Between the contracts, I had lunch with Seyoung, got yelled at by Mr. Park once more, and emailed Hongsik back and forth in regard to Hoseok’s dating provisos. It was a relatively typical day, punctuated once more by my constant switch between my heels and flats. The monotony was welcomed, and I felt that familiar sense of dread when the day began to wind down.

I was in the midst of revising my final contract when my phone dinged. I didn’t think much of it when I reached to pick it up until I saw that the message was from an unknown number.

I was about to ask who it was when another message popped up from the unknown number.

Once again it clicked in my mind. I was confused as to how he got my phone number, so I sent him a quick response. I sent a silent prayer in the hopes that I wasn’t right in my assumption, but it seemed like some malevolent source was looking over me lately.

I fell back into my chair with an audible groan. It was clear that my luck lately was going down the tubes. Seyoung poked his head around the corner at the noise, further pushing me into a pit of generalized annoyance. “You okay boss?”

“Yeah I’m fine,” I said tossing my phone on my desk and raking a hand through my hair. I was in desperate need of a break, a drink, or even just a small bubble bath. I don’t know why I was so stressed out just from my simple conversation with Hyungwon, but it was just adding to my ever-growing pile. “Hey, so Damien is going to be out of town tomorrow. Would you like to go to that restaurant you suggested? I’ve been thinking about it almost all day.” I tried to plaster on a genuine smile as I asked my assistant out to dinner, but I felt like it only came out as a grimace.

“Sure! Would you like me to call and make reservations? Does 7 work?”

I just gave him a nod and watched him go around the corner. I heard him pick up the phone and call the restaurant with his usual cheery tone. Another ping came from my discarded cell phone and I was contemplating turning the whole thing off so as to avoid any kind of contact with Hyungwon. Him texting me was unprofessional, and I was pretty sure I could get in trouble with casual contact with them. On the other hand, however, I was part of their legal team so a conversation with the idols was nearly impossible to avoid. I’ve been able to do so for the last year, so it was only a matter of time.

Plus, his question was seemingly innocent, so I figured that texting him whilst also keeping up decorum wouldn’t be the end of the world. I picked up my phone and saw a second text from the source of an oncoming migraine.

I rolled my eyes at his insistence. He was consistent I could give him that, but there was no way in hell I was calling him anything other than what propriety calls for. Deflecting, I sent him a quick answer to his original question. I couldn’t think of anything else that would put a quick death to this situation. Typing away, I sent him my opinion before placing my phone on airplane mode. But before I could tap on the little symbol, I got another text from him that signaled an uneasy end to the conversation.

My finger hovered over the little symbol as I looked at the eerily daunting face of the yellow emoji. I wasn’t sure why it made my stomach drop, but it did nonetheless. Taking a deep breath, I tapped the symbol and put my phone in my purse, lapsing into silence for the last half hour of work.

-x-

August 17th, 2019 Grand Kitchen Restaurant Seoul, South Korea

Whenever I put on a pair of heels I always made sure to send a curse towards the inventor of the damned things. I always hoped that they were rotting in hell for inventing the torturous devices. However, a little black dress and a pair of pumps always made me feel amazing despite my hatred for the latter. Feeling like a goddess always seemed to resonate the moment I stepped out of the house and into the waiting car. Lipstick and eyeliner in check, everything from the spritz of perfume to the expensive clutch was carefully coordinated. The goal was to turn heads, have a good dinner, and breathe during my weekend respite from work and my marriage.

It also helped to know that for one evening, I wasn’t going to have to put on the perfect wife charade.

Walking into the restaurant with Seyoung definitely helped to boost my confidence, especially when some patrons and even the snooty looking hostess had to do a double-take. Seyoung was arguably one of the most attractive and kind men I had ever been in the company of and being on his arm made my confidence soar. Thankfully his boyfriend let me steal him for the night.

With our heads tilted high, we were shown to our table in a more secluded part of the restaurant. I felt so lighthearted and happy for the first time in almost a week, relishing in the great company of my friend. I let Seyoung take the reins and order us drinks and appetizers while I caroused the menu.

Everything was going amazingly, from the delicious drinks to the savory abet tiny proportions. “I have a feeling we are going to want to get pizza after this,” I laughed over my second old fashioned of the night.

“I’m contemplating ordering another dish,” he said as he downed his drink in one gulp, a rosy flush coming to his cheeks.

“If I’m paying then by all means darling,” I told him with a wink as I raised my glass and killed it. I purposely purred out the term of endearment, putting a French-twist on it that sent us both into a fit of giggles.

The smile on Seyoung’s face was bright, but within a second it dropped like someone poured a bucket of water over his head. It was instantaneous and it caught my attention immediately as he honed in on something behind me. “Are you okay,” I asked, pausing my hailing of a waiter to take in the look of pure horror on his face.

“Please don’t look now Lux, but we have a slight problem.” The colors that previously tinted his cheeks were gone, and the nervous glint in his eyes had my mind running at a million miles a minute. Of course, my one night of freedom would come with some caveat.

“Seyoung what is wrong?”

“Uhm,” he quickly looked down at his plate and began to fiddle with his forks, putting on an unnatural look of indifference. He almost looked like a kid who got caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “I think that is Hyungwon behind you.”

The moment he said that name my stomach dropped out of my body and onto the floor. I looked up at the ceiling with a pained sigh, wondering if it was just my luck or if someone was out to get me. Every rational part of my mind was telling me to not turn around and look at him. They were screaming at me to continue eating and ordering drinks until I forgot that Seyoung saw him.

However, the alcohol in my system muffled all the rational voices. The sweet amber liquid told me to turn around and look at his painfully handsome face. It was saccharine and almost bitter, but it held a strong grip on all my reflexes and emotions. In the end, the whiskey won out, and I begrudgingly turned to look behind me. The second my eyes locked on his curly dark hair I regretted every choice I had made thus far—from choosing this restaurant, to even the dress I was wearing—everything was soaked in instant regret.

He was sitting at another two-top with a woman who couldn’t have been anything less than a model. She looked like a fairy under the dim glow of the restaurant lights, her gold dress sparkling against her pale skin and red-painted lips. He was dapper in a fully black ensemble that added to his natural good looks. From his midnight button-up and blazer all the way down to his expensive loafers, Hyungwon was ethereal and dark. She looked like an angel while he looked like the devil incarnate.

“Shit,” I murmured turning back to Seyoung with a pained look on my face. “We cannot have another dating scandal on our hands.”

“What are we going to do?” he asked me with wide eyes, gripping his fork with white knuckles. Running a hand over my face, I looked around the restaurant as I formed a plan in my head. Pieces were being clicked in, held together by whiskey-flavored glue and bad ideas.

Sitting up straight, I took a sip of water and fixed my hair as I plastered on my signature stoic face. “Stay here,” I told Seyoung. He began to protest, but before he could get anything out I was already pushing out my chair and fixing my dress. I turned on my heel and began to make my way over to the corner of the room that held the unholy date. Adding a little pep to my step, I held my head high as I approached Hyungwon’s table.

His date noticed me before I did, giving me a curious once over before seemingly deciding that I was unwanted company and scowling at my impending intrusion. I came to stand in front of his table, arms crossed over my chest with my head cocked in question. Hyungwon noticed me when I fully approached, his knee-jerking smirk taking over as he stared directly into my blazing eyes.

“Do you think this is a good idea, Mr. Chae?” I asked bluntly, slightly tapping my foot against the ground.

“I don’t know what you mean Mrs. Hamlin,” he said as he leaned forward mockingly as he held his head up with his hand.

Raising an eyebrow, I glanced at his model-like date who was still giving me a nasty look. “I mean, do you really think it is wise to be on a date in a public place? I am already dealing with Hoseok’s potential scandal at the moment, and if memory serves, we had to deal with yours three years ago?” I gave him an unkind look at the final jab, pulling from his history to add the final knife into his current situation.

But rather than look irritated at having his past scandal brought up, Hyungwon bloomed at the mention. He gave me a dazzling smile that was almost blinding in the moody restaurant lights. He leaned back and chuckled, causing my already hazy mind to practically short circuit at how good he looked. I was stunned at his carefree reaction—almost stumbling backward in shock—but I was able to hold it slightly together.

“It’s fine noona,” he purred and once again I was at a loss for words, “I haven’t been caught yet. Besides both, Hyunwoo and Hongsik know I am here.” He ended his excuse with a wink, and my surprise melted away. In its place was pure fire and anger at his brazen attitude. I was disrespected enough at work by my superiors, and I was not about to let some flashy idol get the last word in.

“Wink at me one more time Mr. Chae and I will be filing a report against you with Mr. Park,” I growled the threat lowly, barely getting the words out through my clenched jaw. His proud look didn’t disappear completely, but it fell hard nonetheless which added to my currently skyrocketing confidence. “Furthermore, I am not your manager nor your handler Mr. Chae, but be warned that if I have to deal with another dating scandal, I will make your life a living hell. Are we clear?”

His smile was no longer dazzling, but it was still curved against his plush lips. He no longer looked cocky, but there was still a gleam behind his eyes that I couldn’t quite place. He seemed to take the threat well, at least as well as my now-sobering mind could comprehend. Hyungwon’s dark eyes locked in on mine and I felt my stomach lurch at the intensity within them. It was only for a second because the moment he opened his mouth the whole thing shattered.

“Crystal clear Mrs. Hamlin.”

A/N: Here is Chapter One! I’m hoping to get these out every Sunday night. I also tried something different with the messages in the story, so let know if you like the formatting or if I should try something different! Also I don't know if I made it clear but Lux does speak Korean. The entirely of this fic takes place with the general idea that they are speaking Korean unless stated otherwise! Gif is mine.

#monsta x #hyungwon #monsta x fanfic #monsta x fanfiction #hyungwon fanfic #hyungwon fanfiction #monsta x hyungwon #monsta x scenarios #mx

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writehardwhumpharder · 5 years ago

Text

OC drabble - Carson Migraine

I actually have a few drabbles written about these characters but I'll probably post them out of order.

He pinched the bridge of his nose until the bones under his face throbbed, then released it to feel a few seconds of relief. He was used to headaches and migraines of all variety. This one felt like all of them combined. Carson was almost certain that his brain was on fire but he couldn't let that distract him now. Not when there was work to be done.

Carson sat in a booth opposite Henry Morris, Riley's partner and superior. This wasn't the conversation he thought he'd be having right now. The warm smile Morris usually wore had turned ice cold. The lines in his face seemed deeper, giving him the hard look you'd expect a detective like him to have. Carson's mind started to wander, imagining Morris as one of those detectives in a mystery noir story, complete with saxophone undertones and lots of dramatic shadows. He'd wear some long black trench coat and a hat to hide his face as he walked down dark streets and alleys in the rain. His already deep voice would take on a husky tone as he slid up to the bar, ordering a whiskey, neat-

"Are you even listening to me, Mr. Hall?" Morris said, making an obvious effort not to raise his voice. Carson snapped out of his daydream and shuddered with concern for several reasons. One: Morris had called him by his last name. Two: This headache was making him way more delirious than when he initially left his apartment. And three: It was getting worse, if that was even possible.

They sat in a diner halfway between his place and the precinct. Morris had brought some ominous manilla folders with him but had the decency not to open them up until the coffee arrived at their table. Carson stared down at his mug, carefully avoiding Morris's gaze.

"Yeah I'm listening." He said flatly as he ran his hand over his forehead for the millionth time since they sat down. A photo was forcefully nudged in his direction. He didn't have to look at it long to notice it was a picture of him.

"Wow, who's this ugly prick?" Carson said jokingly. Morris didn't look amused.

"Care to explain what you were doing at the site of a murder without police supervision?"

At least Carson went to scope the place out after the police had taken all their samples. Morris knew he didn't murder anyone, but it still didn't look very good for him.

"I was looking for residual energies that might indicate who the killer was. You're welcome." Carson said. His headache was wearing down his patience along with his ability to filter himself.

Morris was seething. Before he could leap across the table and start strangling Carson the waitress approached them, visibly nervous.

"Um, can I get you two anything to eat?" She asked timidly. The girl couldn't have been older than sixteen.

"I'll get the #5 eggs and sausage." Morris said, suddenly sounding friendly and polite again. She turned to Carson who sighed before shaking his head.

"No thanks, I'll stick with coffee."

"Make that two #5's please." Morris added as the girl turned to leave. Then he looked pointedly at Carson, "You're too skinny."

He scowled at him.

"Yes, sir." She mumbled and walked back to the kitchen.

They were both silent for a second. Carson spun the little black stirring straw in his coffee idly. The thought of food repulsed him at the moment but he didn't argue.

"Where were we?" Carson asked innocently. Morris caught his gaze, staring daggers. Said daggers went on to pierce through his skull, settling behind his eyes. This headache was starting to get distracting.

"Trespassing on a crime scene is illegal. I'm a cop. And you're going to answer my questions, either here or in an interrogation room." Morris said coolly. This was the first time Carson had disrespected him outright and he wasn't having any of it. "I've been lenient with you before, Mr. Hall, but I have to draw the line somewhere."

Carson took a second to process that. The right thing to do would be apologize and kiss his ass but that wasn't really Carson's style.

"Is this going somewhere?" He said, every bit of boredom evident in his voice. He just didn't have the energy to defend himself when all he was doing was help the case. Literally, his life energy needed time to recuperate, especially after being forced to use it this frequently. Morris was silent until Carson finally dragged his eyes up to meet his. The older man slowly eased a pair of handcuffs onto the table between them.

"Which is it going to be?"

Carson eyed them cautiously, struggling a little to focus on them. The migraine was causing the light reflecting off the metal to strobe and shake.

"I forget, are the chairs at the station more comfortable than this god awful wooden bench? Who designed this anyway..." He said it with genuine curiosity, his mind wandering away again. He was still looking down at the bare wooden bench in disgust when Morris snapped, grabbing him by the hair and slamming his head down on the table twice. He could have done it a lot harder if he had wanted to. A few gasps arose throughout the diner. It had come out of nowhere, surprising everyone, including Carson. Morris made his point very clear, grabbing the cuffs from where they rested on the table, starting to stand.

Carson however stayed sitting down, staring straight ahead in shock. He slowly brought his hands up to rest on the sides of his head. The impact was little more than a tap but the motion was enough knock a screw loose in his head. The migraine he had before increased ten-fold, pressure exploding at his temples.

"What.. the hell." Said Carson. It took all his energy to choke out the words. Morris's lips were moving in response but a high pitched ringing in his ears made it nearly impossible to hear him. A full body shiver passed through him, starting at his head and traveling down through his feet. Fingers snapped in front of his face as Morris tried to get his attention. Carson didn't even look at him. It felt like his head was being split open. He moved one hand to touch his forehead with a wince. As he looked back down at the table he noticed a few red splotches on the paper mat in front of him. "What the hell..." he repeated, slurring this time.

Morris's hand found his shoulder, nudging it gently. Carson made a pathetic attempt to swat it away before bringing both hands up to his head again, digging his palms into his eyes.

"Jesus christ, I barely touched him." Morris defended himself to the staff, flashing his badge in the process. Carson made small pained noises as his entire upper body started trembling. If he was aware of the blood dripping from his nose he didn't seem to care enough to do anything about it. Morris swore, grabbing a napkin off a small stack to dab at his face. Carson gritted his teeth at the touch.

"Come on Carson, enough messing around." Said Morris, "what's wrong with you?" He asked more out of necessity than concern.

"What's... wrong... with me?" Carson forced the words out slowly with more effort than it should have taken, "what.. is wrong-" he winced, "with you?"

"Listen to me, kid, I meant what's wrong with your head?" He tried again with an impatient sigh.

"Not a kid. I'm 27." Carson mumbled. Even now he managed to be obnoxiously stubborn. Morris's face softened finally, seeing Carson was in pretty rough shape already.

"Let's just go to the station. You can clean up your face and I'll let you sit on the couch in my office and everything, come on." He grabbed Carson's arm, trying to coax him out of the booth. Or at least elicit some kind of response. Carson moaned in pain at the subtle movement to his head.

Somewhere in the back of his mind Carson knew that sitting absolutely still for the rest of the foreseeable future wasn't a realistic option. Laying down on the couch in his office did sound awfully nice. So did the pristine leather seats in his car.

"Okay, fine." Carson said quietly. He scooted out to the edge of the booth preparing to stand. That small action caused him almost enough pain to make him black out. Curling in on himself Carson laid his head down on the table, closing his eyes. "On second thought, just leave me here. I'm never moving out of this spot. Go on without me." Carson mumbled, slurring on a few words. Morris rolled his eyes at the melodrama and hoisted Carson up from the table to drag him to the station if need be. Despite being held up by the strong man Carson wobbled, his face growing intensely pale. Morris was afraid he was going to throw up or pass out. Carson had come to more or less the same conclusion.

People don't understand the cost of magic. If someone just let him get some god damn sleep he wouldn't be in this mess. The last time Carson felt this bad was when he performed several "miracles" with his healing abilities, in a span of three days. All in an attempt to pay for college. Which it did, all the way through graduate school. The strain it put on his body kept him in the hospital for a few days but he recovered.

Soul magic can use life energy the way you would use any other kind of energy. But that was unnatural. It took more effort and manipulation, like trying to swim up stream. Transfering it between living beings came easily. Using it to send a wave of force, move objects, or shield himself was immensely difficult. As long as he didn't take too much out of his own life force at one time he'd recover no problem, if he was given the chance.

Morris's car was parked right out front so once Carson was on his feet he started dragging him out the door, depositing him in the passenger seat of his honda civic as quickly as he could. Carson groaned, keeping one hand clutching at his head at all times.

"Fucking hell." He whined. His head was killing him. Morris turned on the AC and helped him recline his seat so he could lay down more. Carson wasn't looking forward to going to the police station. It seemed unfair to have to answer stupid questions while on the brink of death. Okay maybe not, but it sure felt like it. A few minutes later the car stopped and Carson looked up to see his own apartment building. Sitting up caused some more blood to pour out of his nose, getting on his grey shirt. Another diner napkin appeared under his nose and Carson took it, holding it there. Morris got out and walked around the car before opening the door for him. His hands felt weak but Carson managed to find his seatbelt and unbuckle it from his lap. Morris moved forward as if to help him up but Carson hissed, pinching his nose.

"Just.. give me a second."

It was more than a minute before the world stopped spinning enough for Carson to feel confident he could move. He braced one hand on the rim of the door in an effort to push himself up. Not wanting to waste any more time Morris grabbed his other arm to pulled him the rest of the way slowly. He kept one arm around his waist as they walked to the door. Carson staggered up the stairs, almost falling down a couple times. His head was pounding like crazy but he had plenty of experience trying to get into his apartment in a less than optimal state such as this one. He was known for being a bit of a lightweight. He gave the buzzer for his neighbor Daniel's apartment a quick tap four times, so he'd know it was him, instead of fishing around in his pocket for keys. The door clicked open immediately. Carson went to open it, moving a little too quickly. Pain erupted in his head again and Morris's grip on him tightened as his knees buckled momentarily.

"Alright, almost there."

Carson went back to holding his aching head with both hands and stopped trying to figure out what was going on all together. He did what any logical person would do and sank down to sit on the floor in the hallway. Someone next to him sighed and started searching his jacket pockets for house keys. Morris found it and opened the door on the first try. Carson looked up in dismay. It took him at least three tries to open that stupid door on a good day.

Morris's icy stare was long gone and his face seemed to be painted with genuine worry. For good reason too. Carson hummed to himself, keeping one hand on my aching skull while using the other one to inch forward on the floor. It was pathetic to watch really. Morris held the door open with his foot and grabbed Carson under the arms, dragging him to his feet. It felt like he was doing that a lot lately. Carson swayed and whimpered quietly, allowing himself to be guided into his apartment. The familiar dim lighting and smell of his citrus room freshener left Carson feeling tired. He was so close to his bed, he could just lay down, close his eyes...

His stomach clenched suddenly, the amount of pain in his head alone was enough to make him sick to his stomach. This type of thing happened on occasion. He spun and ducked into the bathroom to the left of the front door and slammed the door shut. Morris could hear muffled sounds of vomiting from the other side. To give him a little privacy he wandered through the large room that was Carson's entire apartment, turning his bedside lamp on and filling a glass with water.

Carson emerged from the bathroom looking especially pale and shaky. He stripped off his jacket and sweater on his way through his living room.

"Do me a favor and grab the pill bottle above the sink." Carson kicked off his boots and fell onto his bed eagerly. His head hurt just as much here as it did anywhere else, yet he was ten times more comfortable. Morris walked through the gap in the bookshelves to enter Carson's "bedroom" holding a glass of water, the pill bottle, and a box of crackers. He set it all on the nightstand.

"That's a pretty heavy duty painkiller you've got there." Morris commented with some suspicion.

"It's got my name on it doesn't it?" Carson asked dryly. It was a rhetorical question. He didn't hesitate to pop two in his mouth and swallow them down with the water. "You can go now." He added, closing his eyes.

"Drink that water and try to eat some of those crackers. I expect to see you at the station tomorrow. Don't think you're getting out of this."

"Make it Wednesday." Carson groaned. He needed sleep and he needed a lot of it. Morris growled quietly to himself and left, locking the door on his way out.

Carson pulled the curtains closed over the window above his bed. It was still midday and very sunny outside. He needed a dark, cold place to recover. It was finally getting cold enough outside that he could roll himself up in his duvet and not sweat to death. It took him a while to relax enough to actually fall asleep but once he did he sunk into a senseless oblivion.

#whump #drabble #OC drabble #Carson Hall #Henry Morris #migraine #pain #nosebleed #collapse #vomiting #headache #magic overuse

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