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dickwheelie · 4 years

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heyyyy coming in a few days early with the “expression” prompt for @aspecarchivesweek! just a lil something about jon wearing a shirt he doesn’t like. enjoy!

(also on ao3)

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All of Jon’s clothes are in greyscale.

Well, this isn’t entirely true—some are a very light tan, or a dingy brown. One mothbitten vest is a glaring 70’s orange that Jon deeply dislikes, so it stays at the back of his closet. These are the clothes he inherited from his parents and possibly also his grandparents, which he can’t bring himself to throw away. The rest, however, strictly range from white to black, practical to a fault.

Jon has a working theory that he may be the first person in history with an allergy to clothing stores. Entering one instantly stresses him out, and all he wants is to get what he came for and get out as quickly as possible. Figuring out how to match colors, as he eventually learns by the time he’s in uni, is a waste of time and consideration. Much easier and simpler to only buy clothes in shades that match no matter how you swap them out.

Of course, there are exceptions, and as life goes on in its chaotic and unaccountable way, he acquires items of clothing he wouldn’t otherwise have picked for himself. A colorful sweater from Georgie as a birthday gift. A free T-shirt from a uni event. He keeps these things for their sentimental value, but rarely wears them out of the house.

However, sometimes life is not only chaotic but also utterly unmanageable. And sometimes Jon finds himself with a promotion he doesn’t really know what to do with, an entire archive to organize, and less time than he’s ever had to do laundry.

And, well. One has to wear something to work, doesn’t one.

This is what Jon keeps telling himself as he miserably pulls on the last clean shirt left in his flat. He should know; he’s checked four times, and if he checks a fifth he’ll be late for work. He gives himself a glance in the small, dirty mirror stuck to the inside of his closet door, and looks away almost immediately, strangely embarrassed.

It’s just a long-sleeved, striped T-shirt, which is maybe a bit unprofessional for the workplace, but it’s not as though anybody minds how the people who work in the basement dress. The problem comes from its colors. Well, one of its colors. Three of them—black, grey, white—are perfectly suitable for Jon. But following those, at the bottom of the shirt, is a glaring, bright violet.

The shirt is a casualty of the aforementioned chaos of life. A friend of an acquaintance had given it to Jon to wear to a pride parade several years back, which he had ended up skipping out on anyway. Since then the shirt had been kept out of sight and mind, packed into the back of Jon’s closet for a rainy day that he’d never really expected to arrive.

There’s a first time for everything, Jon thinks, almost reflexively. The words don’t mean much to him, philosophically speaking, but they are a steadying mantra nonetheless. He goes to pull on his coat; by some measure of luck, it’s a cold day out. He plans not to take it off again until he’s safely back in his flat that night.

The trouble is, of course, that wearing one’s coat while making tea in the break room in an adequately-heated basement looks rather conspicuous to one’s coworkers, and leads to questions.

“You feeling alright, boss?” Tim asks, as he retrieves his bagged lunch from the fridge.

“Yes,” Jon says, stiffly. “Perfectly fine. I’m just cold.”

Sasha, who has followed Tim in, says, “Not sick, I hope.”

“I’m fine, don’t worry,” Jon says again, though he is beginning to feel a bit overheated. “It’s just cold in here. You don’t feel cold?”

Tim and Sasha shake their heads, looking concerned.

“I’m fine,” Jon says for the third time in thirty seconds, and promptly flees the break room.

By late afternoon, Jon is sweltering, and has no choice but to take off the coat. He’s careful to close his office door before he does so, resolving to put it back on if he needs to be seen by anyone for the rest of the day.

Though the garish violet stripe in his periphery is distracting at first, he loses himself in his work soon enough, spending an hour or two tearing through a stack of statements that are, by and large, utter nonsense.

He loses himself in his work so much, in fact, that when there’s a knock at his office door, he says “Come in,” without thinking.

“Hey, Jon,” says Tim as he enters, “d’you have a copy of statement zero-one-three-two . . .”

Tim’s voice drifts off, and Jon looks up, irritated. “Zero-one-three-two-what?”

Tim’s staring at him, an eager expression on his face, and Jon’s stomach goes cold. He looks down at the shirt, remembering, and stops himself from groaning. If he doesn’t react, maybe Tim will leave it alone. “What number were you looking for, Tim?” he says instead, very calmly and professionally.

But of course it doesn’t work. Tim’s face breaks into a smile, and he gives Jon a big, showy once-over. Jon rolls his eyes even before the words are out of Tim’s mouth. “Looking good, boss.”

“Tim, I have even less patience for sarcasm than usual, so if you could please—”

“Who said anything about sarcasm? You look good! Casual, ah, Tuesday suits you, Jon.”

Jon puts his elbows up on his desk and massages his temples. “I ran out of laundry.”

“Ah, been there.” Tim seems to have taken Jon’s resignation as an invitation, because he helps himself to the chair opposite Jon’s desk. “Wouldn’t have pegged you for the pride flag type, though. Don’t even think I’ve seen you with laptop stickers.”

“No,” Jon says, “I’m not. Not usually. This is just the only thing I had lying around. It’s from years ago, I never wear it.”

“Aw.” Tim genuinely looks disappointed. Jon wonders if perhaps he’s losing what remains of his tenuous ability to read people. “That’s a shame. You look good in purple.”

Jon has reached a point in his life, he’s fairly certain, where he ought to have heard such a comment before, or at least know the proper response. In actuality, he cannot recall a single instance of someone in his adult life complimenting his choice of fashion. He looks down at the shirt again. It’s the same as it was before: too-bright and obvious. He highly doubts it could look good on him in any shape or form. “Um. Thank you?” he says, sounding more bewildered than grateful.

“Really! It, like, brings out your eyes, or something. I dunno, but I think it’s nice on you. Not sure why you went through all the trouble to hide it all day.”

Jon shifts in his chair. “It’s . . . I mean, it’s very loud, isn’t it. And obvious. It’ll just attract attention.”

Tim looks at him for a moment or two. “Jon,” he says, “is this just about the shirt? Or is it also about the shirt?”

“That makes no sense, Tim.”

“You know what I mean.”

Jon, admittedly, does. One of the things he appreciates most about Tim is that they can be honest with one another, if only after some customary back-and-forth. He sighs deeply. “It’s—it’s just . . . a lot. I know it isn’t, really, in the grand scheme, it’s just you and Sasha, a-and Martin, too, I suppose. And it’s London, no one’s going to—it’s safe. I know that. B-But it’s a lot, being seen with everything—out in the open. By strangers. To know that they know. And even if they don’t know, they’ll . . . they’ll probably be able to guess.” He stares down at the scratched, cheap wood of his desk. Long ago, someone had carved a tiny pentagram on the lip of it. If Jon’s sense of humor weren’t buried under three layers of anxiety at the moment, he’d probably find it funny. “And I know it’s childish, to care what a bunch of strangers would think. But I can’t . . . I can’t stop thinking about it. I can’t just let it go.”

There’s a painfully long pause before Tim speaks up again.

“Well, I’ve got good news for you, Jon.”

Jon looks up at him warily, and finds that Tim is smiling at him. “What?”

He points at Jon’s coat where it hangs off the back of his chair. “You can put that back on.”

Jon blinks at him.

“At five,” Tim goes on, “you can put your coat back on, button it up, and walk out of here, and when you get back to your flat, Jon, you can do your bloody laundry. And you never have to wear that shirt ever again. Problem solved.”

“But . . .” Jon’s voice peters out before he can come up with a real protest.

“If wearing pride colors makes you feel like that,” Tim says, his voice gentler, “then don’t wear them. Simple as that. Not everybody’s got to carry a flag twenty-four-seven. Or ever. Doesn’t make you any less queer. Hell, even I take the pins off my bag sometimes.” Tim squints into the middle distance, muttering, “I can never seem to get the laptop stickers off, though.”

“But—what about what you said about me wearing purple?” He’s grasping at straws, he knows, but Tim’s argument is quite good. And the thought of never wearing this particular shirt again does sound rather appealing.

“So wear an aubergine button-down every once in a while!” Tim shrugs. “Or don’t! It’s none of my business.” He tilts his head to the side. “Actually, please do wear an aubergine button-down sometime. You’d turn some heads down here.” He pauses. “Figuratively, I mean. I’m sure everyone would be very respectful.”

Jon lets out a startled laugh. “Alright,” he says, feeling lighter. He runs a hand through his hair. “Maybe, sometime, I’ll . . . I’ll try it.”

“I know you like your blacks and whites, Jon,” Tim says, “and I’m not here to tell you how to dress. But if you ever need advice, or want to borrow a colorful, strictly nondenominational shirt . . .” He points both thumbs at himself. “I’m your guy.”

“Okay,” Jon says, and is surprised to find that, in this one, specific case, he is.

“And,” Tim adds, pointing a professorial finger in the air, “it’s not childish to care about what other people think of you. Pretty sure it’s the most universal thing there is. Welcome to the human race, Jon. You’re among us peons, now.”

Jon raises an eyebrow. “How unfortunate,” he says, drily, and Tim cackles.

Jon wears his coat home, keeping it carefully buttoned, and when he gets back to his flat he tosses the shirt into the back of his closet from whence it came. He’s not going to throw it away altogether, of course. It has sentimental value. Someday, maybe, he’ll dig it back up, if only just to look at.

For now, Jon does his bloody laundry.

#tma #the magnus archives #AspecArchives #aspecarchivesweek #gwyneth writes #it's ok jon i'm allergic to clothing stores too

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logo-comics · 3 years

Note

Fortune lovers DLC

Title: Cross promotion with F:NV

~I don't want to set the world on fire! I just want to start a flame in your heart!~

In partnership with Obsidian Entertainment in honor of the release of the trailer for our upcoming joint project Star Knights: Robotics, Magic, and Romance, we are proud to present our newest DLC, Fortune Lover's Fallout New Sorcier DLC!

Join Maria Campbell, a Light Mage and Courier in the remains of Sorcier, lost to a massive magical explosion, who was pulled from her grave when shot and robbed of the parcel she'd been carrying and is now chasing the assassin across the Sorcier Wasteland!

Joining her are the cast as companions, potential allies, and enemies!

Companions:

Geordo Stuart: Right hand of the seemingly-immortal King of New Sorcier, the Flame Magic Wielder works to ensure that nothing will compromise the peace the people have built for themselves within its walls. Tricky and rather menacing, he is the one that people picture when you say the name New Sorcier. (Romanceable) New Sorcier Faction Companion

Keith Claes: Professional Troubleshooter of the Sorcier Magic Republic, he is on the front lines and keeps Noelia's Legion in check. A hero of the people who knows it and a notorious flirt, he is fortunately not one to let pleasure stop him from business, and his business is the defense of the Sorcier Magic Republic. (Romanceable) Sorcier Magic Republic Faction Companion

Sirius: Another Courier, he has his own thoughts on the various factions, and will often make them well known in conversation. Cheerful and clever, he bears watching. (Romanceable) Factionless Companion

Nicol Ascart: Knight of the Brotherhood of Letters, he seeks books for his sister, The Scribe, to transfer into her books. Calm and accepting of practically anything, his approval is hard to achieve. (Romanceable) Brotherhood of Letters Faction Companion

Allies:

Sophia Ascart: The Scribe of the Brotherhood of Letters, she is considered the wisest soul in Sorcier, having read and retained the information of thousands of books. Shy, but sagacious, she can be expected to be the smartest person in any room she's in. (Romanceable) Brotherhood of Letters Ally

Mary Hunt: The Gardener, she runs the small community where Maria woke up alongside her fiancee, Alan. Polite and well-mannered, she understands the value of a day's work, having lived in a Vault in the past, and gave Maria her Pip-Boy. Factionless Ally

Alan Stuart: Geordo's estranged twin brother, he helps Mary with the general maintenance of their community and helped Maria relearn how to shoot. Aloof, but caring, he is responsible for the community's defense. Factionless Ally

Enemies:

Noelia Flores: Leader of Noelia's Legion, she is more focused on acquiring Dark Magic to position her Legion of fiends, brigands, and slavers to be greater than Katarina's faction than she is in the actual act of leading said Legion, leaving that to her advisors and generals. Shortsighted, but with competent advisors, she is not to be trusted.

Sienna Nelson: Formerly a member of the Brotherhood of Letters, she joined Katarina's faction for reasons unknown, and acts as her voice when there is the chance for peaceful resolutions.

Anne Shelley: Katarina's right hand woman, she has been loyal, if prone to dry commentary, ever since Katarina saved her from slavery.

Katarina Claes: Banished from the Sorcier Magic Republic, despised by the Legion, Mistrusted by New Sorcier, and tolerated due to the Sacred Neutrality of the Brotherhood of Letters, this warlord united most of the gangs of bandits plaguing Sorcier under her own banner, brutally forcing them to follow her Code of Conduct, rules of how they are permitted to conduct their "business" that minimize casualties. Cunning, wicked, and answerable only to herself, those who she rules over are surprisingly grateful for her presence, as Noelia's Legion gives her territories a wide berth.

Pick your faction! Choose your romantic partner! Battle Noelia's Legion! There is a lot that one Courier can accomplish in Fortune Lover's Fallout New Sorcier DLC!

Addendum: We have, as per the numerous fan requests and a letter from several of the writers from Obsidian Entertainment, worked to create the Katarina Faction DLC, and the Katarina Romance DLC, both of which are free to download on our website.

#hamefura #bakarina #my next life as a villainess #fortune lover dlc

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alwaysthinkingoutloud · 3 years

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Hannibal Episode-by-Episode Meta/Analysis: Episode 12, Season 1 (Relevés)

While Will assumes others’ point of view painfully well, it is questionable if he longs to be understood himself too. He does want there to be enough of himself to be understood and he wants his own identity not to blur in the depth of perception of others; however, he denies any commonalities between his identity and those killers’ reflections in his mind and that prevents him from understanding himself in an honest way. Garret Jacob Hobbs, along with the other killers, somehow saw him as much as he saw them, but Will refused to feel understood by them since all the murders of the killers he profiled so far were deliberate and vicious in nature. There were no malfunctions, no accidents. They did it because they thought it was the right thing to do. The right thing for someone else, or the right thing for themselves. Or the fun thing for themselves. So, he kept being in a defensive mode despite of it being lonesome. But it is different with Georgia Madchen, she is a killer with an excuse -her condition, that is -, with a veil to hide behind. She is someone who was never understood because she was different, and that difference was never understood either. Will himself too has been alienized all his life because of the way he is, and again, he did murder Garret Jacob Hobbs in the name of justice and shot Dr. Gideon (to kill) while he was sick. However, not to Will’s liking, the similarity between him and Georgia ends here. Will desperately wants to believe that he is more like Georgia Madchen than he is like GJB. That he killed without really meaning it and that he found it to be ugly. That is why he has sympathy for her. That is why she gets to him differently than the others preceded her. That is why he looks faintly disappointed to hear she does not remember killing her friend. And that is why he asks her, with a bit of hope, if she dreams about killing anybody else. Because he does, and he wants to know he is not alone. He wants to prove himself that dreaming about killing -regardless of the reason- may haunt you in your dreams nightmares; and that it is not about a forbidden hunger surfacing, but about being traumatized. It is not, though. Georgia is terrified to remember killing, while Will remembers his bloody actions very vividly; it is not a memory that he despises. Georgia Madchen could not recognize anyone; she could not see them. But Will saw everyone and everything too well, including the darkest corners of his mind. He knows what is there and what it craves. So, Will can try as hard as he can to make himself believe that he is like Madchen, that he is a victim, still he very well knows that this is not true. He is not a victimized prey or a prey that attacks only to survive, he simply is the hunter. A hunter who likes being the hunter.

Will’s emerging dark side which is getting more intertwined with to-be-discovered Chesapeake Ripper/Copycat Killer every passing day, aka the stag, comes into sight in one of his intuitive dreams and he puts the pieces together. Will does not really acquire any new data about the present or previous cases, but he suddenly reaches to conclusion that the copycat killers of GJH and Georgia Madchen are in fact the same person. Will making that connection is quite a spectacular reach even with his capabilities which makes me think how much his empathy grows exponentially when it comes to the copycat killer, as almost Will’s mind is irreparably already connected to his, even before Will knew who it was. Another sudden and groundless intuition is that he dreams about confronting Abigail about Hannibal knowing that she helped her father kill, out of nowhere. Some things just come to him, like a memory would come. Or like a revelation would come, too smoothly to be someone else’s. That is why he sees Georgia saying “see?” the way Garret Jacob Hobbs asked Will when he shot him. GJH -who Will killed- asked him if he saw the beauty behind what he did and now Georgia -who the copycat killer killed- is asking the same thing. That is because Will, in a way, feels responsible for Georgia’s death and he sees the similarity between her and GJH’s deaths. The moment Hannibal walked into Will’s life, so did the missing ingredient for him to self-actualize. From that moment on, every seemingly independent kill of the two belonged to the other one as well. Hannibal did not open a door within Will’s mind that goes to his true self, Hannibal was both the door and where it leads. Will did not reinvent himself but reunited with his other half.

I do not think neither Hannibal nor Will are truly aware of it at this point, but it is safe to assume that comparing to Will, Hannibal is at least closer to comprehending what is happening. That is why,

“There are days when even Will doesn’t understand his own thinking.”

says Hannibal to Jack. This is most probably followed in his mind by “but I do.” Jack must have felt that too, so he goes right to Dr. Du Maurier to dig that out.

Will makes one of the longest, non-stop eye contact ever with Abigail, meaningfully when she is talking about how it felt to kill someone. If Will truly avoids making eye contact because he finds eyes too revealing and noisy to look at as per his suggestion to Hannibal when they first met, would not this be the perfect time to look away? But no, he does not even blink and he seems to be speaking as honest as it can get. So, Will is not actually afraid of what he might find in someone’s eyes when talking to them, but he is afraid of what they might find out in his. When Will looks someone right in the eye, it is a clear statement that shouts openness and honesty. And now, when talking about how good murdering someone feels, he can be himself without any concealing or pretense.

During the conversation of Hannibal and Bedelia, she stands while talking to him as his psychiatrist, but she sits on the couch when she begins talking to him as his colleague in a manner that is more friendly than professional. Then, she goes back to standing again when she talks about the limitations of psychiatrists’ abilities, shifting back to a professional point of view. So, when Bedelia advices Hannibal to maintain boundaries with Will; Hannibal goes and sits in her couch saying,

“When the pressures of my personal and professional relationships with Will grow too great, I assure you, I’ll find a way to relieve them.”

What he actually says there is that if there comes a time he has to choose between being Will’s psychiatrist and his friend, he will choose to be his friend, just like Bedelia did with Hannibal, sitting in the couch and setting her therapist hat aside.

After talking to Will about his intuitions about the copycat killer and his idea to take Abigail back to Minnesota to reconstruct the copycat killer’s thinking; Hannibal realizes that although he will need to take his therapist hat off, it may not be in order to become friendly with Will since he pushes too hard and is about to come too close in a way Hannibal does not want him to, not yet anyway. While he cannot let that happen, Hannibal knows this will leave him in a position to act in a non-desirable way and he is displeased about the means he will have to follow to stop Will. The means to draw Jack’s suspicions away from Abigail towards Will.

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eleanorbloom · 4 years

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When You’re Ready Ch. 17

Pairing: Bryce Lahela x f! MC (Eleanor Bloom) x Ethan Ramsey.

Word Count: 6.6k (Am I sorry? Absolutely not.)

Warnings: Angst and cussing.

Taglist @utterlyinevitable @binny1985 @shanzay44 @choicesficwriterscreations @laiba-the-person @starrystarrytrouble @lahellacute @lucy-268 @cinnamonspongecake @romewritingshop @bratzlahela @mrs-raleighcarrera @mercury84choices @curiousconch

Chapter 17: Truly, Madly, Deeply.

I'll love you more with every breath Truly, madly, deeply do I will be strong I will be faithful 'Cause I'm counting on A new beginning A reason for living A deeper meaning, yeah

“I’m an asshole.”

Aurora stared at Bryce leaning against the wall with his face buried in his forearm and his shoulders slumped. Defeated. Ashamed. Mortified.

“Bryce, if I told you this is not to make you feel worse than you already feel, it’s because you had understandable reasons to be mad. This whole situation between Eleanor and Ethan is… complicated and adding the information Elijah gave it to you only made things worse.”

Bryce stood straight and faced his friend, his eyes glistening.

“Understandable reasons. Thinking that Eleanor slept with Ramsey and she would dump me it’s an understandable reason to ignore her even if she had never given me any reasons to distrust her? I think not. It’s awful.”

His voice was full of regret and desperation, and even if seeing Bryce like that was painful for her, she didn’t regret her decision.

“You got caught in a misunderstanding. I bet you thought the worst because you’re afraid and that’s understandable. Now you know the truth and you can move on.”

“Move on?—He turned around and started pacing around the hallway trying to contain his anger.—"How can I move on if I know the last three days could’ve been so much different and I…”

“Bryce, stop there.”—Aurora snapped, serious. —"You have to stop wallowing in what-ifs and should’ves right now, because is not going to lead you anywhere, and is not going to help Eleanor either. She needs you. You’re the person she needs the most now, so you have to be in your best shape and mood to help her. Your feelings are important, but right now you have to focus on her.”

Bryce stopped in the middle of the hallway and sighed loudly, then he nodded and looked up at Aurora.

“You’re right. I’m sorry. I’m not usually like this, I don’t lose control this easily, it’s just…”

It’s just that he couldn’t imagine a life without Eleanor, and he couldn't live with the fact that he could've held her, and kiss her, and love her the last three days but he didn't because he was blind and scared.

His breath started raging and he winced, trying to contain the emotions that were overwhelming him. The idea of losing her was becoming more palpable than ever.

“It’s okay, Bryce. You love her, she’s your girlfriend, I’d be more worried if you hadn’t lost your shit by now. Come here.”

Aurora pulled him into a hug, and he wrapped her instantly as if holding her was like clinging to the last drop of sanity he had left.

Guilt had always been his weak spot. He learned it when he left Keiki in Maui and never came back, and to this day he was still dealing with the consequences and trying to make up for the lost time.

And now he was dealing with another kind of guilt, and facing death was making everything worse. The effects were instant, devastating, and maddening.

After a minute of herculean effort to not crying his soul out, Bryce pulled away from Aurora, feeling more serene and like a lot of weight had been taken off his shoulders.

“Thank you, Aurora.”—He muttered, staring deeply at her chocolate eyes, trying to convey his feelings.— “You’re an amazing friend.”

If it wasn’t for her, Bryce would’ve drowned in guilt, shame, and self-loathing to a depth so dangerous, it would've taken an impossible effort to come afloat by himself.

Aurora smiled at him and shook him by the shoulders.

“Anytime you need, I’ll be there for you. You’re not alone.”

“Likewise.”

“Dr. Lahela?”

Bryce turned around and found a nurse a few feet away, looking at them cautiously, almost sorry for interrupting the intimate moment.

“Yes, Marlene?”

“I’ve been trying to contact Eleanor’s family for a couple of hours, but no success. Dr. Ramsey told me you probably have an alternative number? Or maybe you could have access to Eleanor’s phone so we could get another number?”

“And what numbers do you have?”

“Her family emergency contact was her mom’s cellphone and a landline in Cincinnati.”

“And none of them works?”

“The cellphone is out of service, and no one answers in her house.”

Bryce frowned, thoughtful, and after a few seconds, he nodded.

“Oh. Of course. Eleanor’s parents aren’t in the city. They went to Chile to spend the national holidays with her mom’s family. We should try with her brother, he’s in college in Michigan. Where’s Eleanor’s phone?”

“It’s at the Diagnostics Office, with the rest of her belongings.”

Bryce and Aurora entered the empty office. In the center of the round table was a plastic bag with Eleanor’s clothes, shoes, and her phone. Bryce grabbed her phone and unlocked it with his fingerprint without a moment's hesitation.

Aurora chuckled without hiding the surprise in her eyes.

“What?”

“One thing is knowing her password, but adding your fingerprint?”

“It’s faster when you wanna put a song on Spotify.—He shrugged with a nonchalant expression on his face.—"She has access to mine too.”

Aurora and Marlene shared a knowing smile, but he didn’t notice it.

Bryce scrolled through Eleanor’s contacts list. When he found “Benja”, he dialed instantly. After several rings, a whispering voice was heard on the other side of the line.

“Hello? Andrew? I’m in class right now.”

“Um, hello Benjamin, this is Bryce Lahela.”—He said softly.

“Bryce Lahela… oh, shoot. Hello. You’re my sister’s boyfriend, right?”

“Y… Yes. Can we talk? I have something important to tell you.”

“Okay, wait a second.”

While he was waiting, Bryce couldn’t help but feel shivers down his spine. It was the first time he was talking to a member of Eleanor’s family, and even if he knew her family was aware of their relationship, it made him feel nervous reaching this milestone, especially under terrible circumstances, and after the doubts he had been feeling the past few days.

“Okay, I’m out. Something happened?”

Bryce tried to balance the concern of a boyfriend with the calmness and professionalism acquired in his medical career to not shock Benjamin more than necessary.

“Unfortunately, yes. There was an assassination attempt on a Senator here in Edenbrook, it was Eleanor’s patient, and she was caught in the middle. The hospital tried to contact your mother, but as she’s in Chile, I decided to contact you directly.”

“Shit. Yes, you did the right thing. How is she? What happened exactly?”

“She’s stable at the moment. This assassin used a canister with an unknown substance, so the hospital is working to figure out what was inside as soon as possible. It already killed a man, and there’s a nurse in a coma."

“Oh my god, no…”

Bryce could sense the pain Benjamin was feeling even if he couldn’t see him. He knew how much Eleanor adored her brother, so it was natural that Benjamin would feel the same way about her. And knowing his sister was in danger of course would cause this type of reaction, especially being away.

“Is she awake? Can I speak with her?”

“She’s in quarantine, so is kind of difficult to let you talk through the phone, but I can try.”

“No, it’s okay. Don’t worry. I… I’ll fly as soon as I can to Boston.”

“Do you have a number so we can call your parents?”

“I’ll do it. I have my grandma’s landline, that’s the quickest way to contact mom.”

“Okay, then. Let me know if you need anything, alright? Do you have money to fly here?”

“Yes, I have a credit card to use in case of emergencies. Thank you, Bryce.”

“No problem.”

After a few more questions and Bryce giving him his number, Benjamin hung up. If he was lucky, he would be able to land in Boston in three hours.

“Okay, Benjamin is going to contact Eleanor’s parents and once he's here, they'll have a video call with the Team so they can inform Eleanor’s state more detailly.”

“Understood. Thank you so much, Dr. Lahela. I’ll let know Dr. Ramsey.”

“No problem, glad I could help.”

When Bryce grabbed his own phone to save Benjamin’s number, he noticed he had several missed calls and messages from Keiki.

“Bryce, I read that something happened at the hospital. Please answer me.” “I know you probably are in the OR but please call me when you see this” “Are you okay?”

Bryce sighed and dialed her number.

“Bryce? Oh my god, how are you? Why you didn’t answer!”

“I was at the surgery, Keiki. I told you it would last long”—He lied, but regretted it the second he let out the words.

“I know, but… I was worried, the news are saying the police is in the hospital, that someone tried to kill a Senator. Is that true?”

Bryce pondered his words. There was no point in lying, sooner or later she would find out, and it was better if it was from him. So he told her the truth. That the rumors she saw on the news were true, and that Eleanor was in danger. Keiki was desperate and wanted to come over to the hospital to see her, but even if he needed his sister here, he had to play the responsible and serious older brother for once in his life.

“Keiki, it’s better if you stay at home. Is too dangerous here and I think Eleanor would kill me if I let you come over.”

She chuckled.

“That’s true. Better not give her a hard time.”

“Exactly.”

“Okay, but please, keep me informed.”

“I will. And if you need anything, please call me, and stay safe. I’m probably staying here tonight.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be fine. Please send Ella all my love if you see her, okay?”

“Sure, thank you, sis."

Three hours later, Bryce was deep in thoughts sitting in a chair near the atrium, when he saw the vivid image of Eleanor walking towards him. He had to blink several times.

“Damn, pictures give you an idea, but I didn’t know you and Elle were so alike.— He joked, standing up from the chair and offering his hand to the guy in front of him. —"Hello Benjamin, nice to meet you.”

The situation wasn’t appropriate for jokes, but somehow Bryce felt like he needed to kill the tension from the start. Eleanor had told him her brother was ongoing and nice, and it just felt right to act that way with him, instead of serious and gloomy.

Benjamin returned the handshake and smiled.

He was way taller than Eleanor but not taller than him, and he had an athletic body, even if he wasn't on any sports team at college. He was just a soccer and basketball aficionado, or at least that’s what Eleanor had told him.

“Nice to meet you too, Bryce. For what it's worth, you’re as handsome as you seem in Ellie’s Pictogram. Thought you were using some Ken filter, but nope, that’s really you.—Benja teased, containing a laugh.

Bryce couldn’t help but chuckle.

“100% real, no weird filters, I promise.”

“Any updates?”

“None. She’s stable and was sedated right after we spoke the first time, so she should be awake by now. The rest is working in the labs trying to find out what could’ve been inside the canister.”

“And you’re not going?”

“I was hired as moral support. My friends are more expert in that field than me, I’m just a surgeon.”—Bryce replied sheepishly, shrugging.

“But the best surgical resident or that’s what I’ve heard.”

His eyes widened for a second, but then Bryce shook his head, amused.

“She told you that?”

“That and other fangirly praises like “oh, he’s so cute, so charming, and talented, the best surgeon, he’s amazing.”

His heart did a flip. He never expected Eleanor would talk about him like that to her brother. Or that she would talk about him at all.

“You must be really impressive to have my sister babbling like a teenager at the age of 27.”

“What can I say? I’m a total catch.”—Bryce gave him his characteristic charming smile, feeling somehow relieved for a moment. It was like Benjamin was giving him the same relaxed and nice vibes he always felt around Eleanor.

Benjamin laughed and Bryce’s heart did another flip as he saw traces of Eleanor’s smile in him. She was everywhere. In the shape of his eyes, the way he quirked his brows, in his grin, even he could hear her in his still marked Ohioan accent.

“Yeah, I’m pretty cocky too, ask my friends and everyone will say a round yes, but your sister doesn’t deserve any less.”

“I agree completely.”

After a few minutes, Bryce and Benjamin stood in front of the quarantined room. Eleanor was half-asleep staring at Rafael, who was sleeping.

“Andrew”—Benjamin muttered.

Eleanor was extremely pale, her eyes were puffy, and her lips parched and cracked, but the moment she opened her eyes and recognized Benjamin, her whole face brightened with love and surprise.

“Benja! Ohmygod! What are you doing here?”

“Bryce contacted me so I had to come to see you. How are you?”

Eleanor stood up with difficulty. When she reached the door, her eyes were full of tears.

“Bebé… I’m… well, I’ve been better, but right now I’m so happy to see you.”

“Me too, sis.”

Both siblings shared a smile, the same kind smile, and Bryce couldn't help but mirror them.

“Well, I leave you to it. I’ll let Dr. Ramsey know you’re here so you can have the meeting with your parents.”

Bryce turned to leave but Eleanor stopped him.

“Bryce, wait.”

“Yes?”

“Thank you, thank you for calling my brother.”

Eleanor gave him a tender smile, full of thankfulness and adoration.

“Yeah, thank you, Bryce, for all you’ve done for my sister.”—Benjamin added, earnestly.

“It’s nothing. Let me know if you need anything.”

And he left the siblings catching up with their lives, the younger trying to cheer up the older with the usual jokes and mocks siblings have.

Hours later, Eleanor paged to report a new symptom Rafael had manifested before falling into a coma. Hopefully, it would be the key to find the answer they’ve been trying to reach all day.

“Bryce?”—Aurora murmured, approaching him in the hallway. “Dr. Ramsey wants to talk to you, he’s in his personal office.”

When Bryce turned to her he didn’t need a second glance to read the panic in her eyes. He gulped and then forced himself to smile at Eleanor.

“See you later, gorgeous.”

Bryce walked to the office as fast as he could. When he reached Ethan’s office, he breathed deeply before getting in. As he opened the door, he found the attending looking at the window, pensive. He looked small and fragile, and when Bryce stood behind him, he saw how haggard he was in the reflection of the window. After a few moments, Ethan turned to face him, and he didn’t even bother to hide his feelings.

“Do you know what’s in the canister?”

“Yes. June was right. It’s…”.—Ethan cleared his throat, brows knitted in worry.—“ It’s a maitotoxine.”

“Maitotoxine? I think I’m not familiar with the name.”

“It’s an extremely potent toxin commonly found in fish, but this… this toxin is something I’ve never seen before. Not June, not Baz…”—Ethan shoved his hand through his hair, evidencing his frustration.

“What does this mean?”—Bryce said in a tiny voice, already knowing what Ethan was about to say.

“There is no antidote for this, Bryce.”

For a moment, Bryce felt like he would faint, his mind went clouded, and lost track of space and time. His body wasn’t strong enough to process such information. Such undeniable and hurtful truth.

What he had been fearing all day was now materializing.

“And what are you going to do? Can you create an antidote or modify another one with a similar molecular structure? That has been done lots of times.”

“Yes, that’s what we are hoping to do. Aurora informed me that a group of doctors from Mass Kenmore is coming to Edenbrook to help, so we’ll have the best minds working on an antidote.”

But they had to have it before it’s too late.”

“You have to… you have to find the antidote, Ethan. She can’t die… She…”

Bryce suddenly got out of breath. The desperation was brewing again. The pain was inexorable. He couldn’t hold it anymore.

“I can’t lose her. Ethan, please… You have to...”

He couldn’t tell when happened, but all at once, he found himself drowning in sobs and with large tears streaming past his neck, reaching his chest.

He did his best to not succumb to his feelings in the OR because Kyra needed him, and he couldn't fail her nor Eleanor.

He managed to hold it while he was with Aurora because there was still hope and Aurora forced him to focus on Eleanor.

He was doing fine keeping his hopes high, trusting they would find out what was in the canister and then set a treatment and everything would be alright.

But there was no cure, no antidote.

Even if one hundred doctors were working on it, no one could assure him that they could do it before it’s too late. Before she’s gone.

He didn't even want to think in a world without her, but the sole draft, just a slight hint of it was devastating, unbearable.

He started gasping for air. His guts were shaking uncontrollably. The lump he felt in his throat at OR was now bigger and even more painful. His entire body was numb.

This was a living nightmare.

After a few seconds, Bryce took a chair and sat down before his legs could fail him. Ethan did the same.

“We have to stay positive, Bryce. Many of us have experience with research and with the help of Mass Kenmore and your friends, I’m sure will be on time to fight the toxin.”

“I wanna believe that, I’ve been believing this shit all day, Ethan. But… if it’s too late. I…”—He rubbed his face with both hands, his face red and wet with tears. Then he buried his face in his hands.—“She doesn’t deserve this… She can’t die… Please…”

Ethan patted him in the shoulder, comfortingly, his eyes haunted with fear and sadness.

“Bryce, I won’t let anything happen to Eleanor ...”—He hesitated for a moment, pondering his next words.— “You know what she means to me. I know you do. And I’ll do everything I can to save her, I promise. Whatever it takes. I won’t let anything happen to her. "

Bryce looked at him defeated.

“If I could, I would do it too, but I’m so useless. I feel so useless.”

"No, Bryce, on the contrary, you have done for her more than any of us could. If she’s still able to have a smile on her face despite the hell she’s living, if she’s still standing is not only because she’s incredibly strong. It’s because she has you. You’re part of the reason she hasn’t fallen into a coma yet.”

There was a painful rawness in those words. In another time and circumstances, Ethan would have never been able to say it aloud, mostly for pride and because he didn’t use to open to anyone. But not today. His love for Eleanor was selfless enough to let him recognize that if she was doing good was because of Bryce, and she had given him enough bravery to accept it out loud in front of the person she had chosen over him. Because Ethan only needed one second of watching Eleanor looking at Bryce to realize she was in love with him.

The only person Eleanor needed, was Bryce.

Ethan’s words felt like an absolute and relieving certainty to Bryce, mostly because who was saying it was the person he would expect it the less, and it gave him the strength he needed to keep going. To keep being there for Eleanor in this difficult night.

“Thank you, Ethan.”—Bryce said after a while, regaining breath and clarity.

The attending nodded and then stood up from the chair.

“Come on, we have to speak with Eleanor, and she’ll need you by her side.”

Eleanor was hopeless. Bryce could tell how the slight hope she had inside her had vanished with the news.

“We’ll do our best to find the antidote. Just keep fighting Eleanor.”—Elijah reassured.

The doctors from Mass Kenmore and the rest of their friends started to go. Sienna was heading Benjamin to the fifth floor so he could have some rest. He didn’t want to leave the hospital in case something happened.

And then, there was only Ethan and Bryce outside the room.

Eleanor smiled at Ethan, noticing how troubled and scared he was, as if he didn’t want to leave her there, knowing things could go wrong anytime and he couldn’t say goodbye. But he knew it wasn’t his place to be anymore. He knew it was Bryce’s.

“Thank you, Ethan. For everything.”

“We’ll make it, Eleanor. Keep fighting just as you’ve been doing until now.”—He stared deeply into her eyes for a moment, before turning around and leave Bryce alone in the hallway.

Bryce watched him leave, and when he looked at Eleanor, her swelling eyes were already on him, clinging onto him even if she couldn’t touch him. Like his eyes were strong and powerful enough to hold her to life.

She was tired. She was giving up.

“It’s gonna be okay, Elle, I promise.”

“It won’t. How they’re going to create an antidote in just a few hours? Raf and Danny are in a coma, they could go at any moment, so do I."

“Yes, it could happen at any moment, but that moment could take hours, even days, and I’m sure the team will have it on time. They have a lot of brilliant people working on it, with tons of experience. They’ll make it, I know.”

Eleanor shook her head hastily, sobbing.

“It’s just I’m so tired, Bryce. I… I can’t take it anymore, I’m tired of being strong and show hope and shit, I want this to be over, I’m done.”

“I know you are, babe. You have been so strong and brave, it’s understandable that you want a break. You deserve it, but you have to keep fighting, okay?”

“The only reason I’m doing it it’s because of you. Because somehow you don’t let me fall. If it wasn’t for you, I don’t think I would be still standing. I don’t know I’d be here. I wouldn’t be that strong.”

Bryce smiled tenderly at her puffed eyes.

“You would. Don’t you know it already, Eleanor? That strength that you have is all you. You have it inside you. You always have.”

“Don’t you know it already, Bryce? You make me stronger. You know it’s true.”

“Glad to be of service.”—He flashed her a smile that made her smile too.—“But this is mostly you.”

“I wish I could hold you right now. I miss you so much.”

“Maybe you can.”

“How?”

“There’s another hazmat suit out here. I could go inside and make you company for a while. I hate the idea of you being alone in a moment like this.”

“Would you do that for me?”

“How dare to ask that, Eleanor Andrea Bloom? You know I would do anything for you.”

Eleanor bit his lower lip, compassing her sobs for a moment.

“I’d love to have you here with me.”

“That’s it, then.”

A few minutes later, Bryce entered the room with the hazmat suit on, and a dashing smile adorning his face.

“Well, what do you think? Am I still handsome? Or am I somehow more handsome? Be honest.”—He said flirtily.

She shook her head, chuckling.

“God, how I missed you, Johnny Bravo.”—She said looking at him from head to toes.—"I think it’s your best look yet. You’ll catch a lot of babes with that.”

“Ah,”—He growled, taking slow steps towards her— “but you know there’s just one babe I want, and I have it right here in front of me.”

Eleanor looked up at him, almost not believing he was in front of her, that she was able to touch him.

In an intent to believe it, she cut the distance and wrapped Bryce in a tight embrace.

“You’re here, you’re really here.”

“You’re not the only one who was dying for a hug, you know? Especially after all the opportunities, I wasted in these few days."

Bryce tightened his hold, almost scared that Eleanor would vanish into thin air any second now.

“Elle, I’m…”

“Shhh… Not now.”

He nodded and both remained silent, savoring the embrace, the sweet feeling of having each other in their arms. Even if they couldn’t feel the warmth and smell they loved so much, feeling their arms wrapped around those so well known curves was sufficient. It brought them joy, peace. A sense of reality in the middle of that living hell.

After a minute, her limbs started trembling and her breath got short.

“Come on, babe, let’s get you to bed.”

Bryce took her hand and helped her laid down. Then, somehow, he managed to squeeze in the bed beside her.

“How’s that?”

“Much, much better.”—Eleanor placed a hand over his waist and then added: —“My brother really liked you. A lot.”

“I know. I liked him too.”

“You know?”

“I told him I was a total catch, cause I am, and he agreed with me. That totally means that he likes me, right?”

“Bryce…”—She laughed, rolling her eyes.

“What? It’s the truth! I didn’t force him to agree or anything! I mean, you did half the job by telling him all those incredible things about me.”

“He told you that? Oh, that brat!”

Bryce shrugged, amused while Eleanor shook her head.

I’m glad you finally get to know each other, and you actually liked each other.”

"I mean, it's hard not to. He's really nice and you've told me so much about him I feel like I've known him for a long time."

“I think something like that happened to me with Keiki, even if I had absolutely no idea about her existence before I met her”—Eleanor teased, feigning annoyance.

“Keiki… She’s been worried about you all day. She was crazy to come up here, but I told her you would kill me if she came. But I’ve been giving her updates every hour.”

“Oh, yes. I would’ve been so fucking mad, Bryce Lahela. I’m glad you kept her safe.”—Then she sighed.—"The poor thing, must be all alone. You should go to see her.”

“I know, but I can’t leave you here, Elle.”

“Would it be too selfish of me if I tell you I don’t want you to leave?”

“No. Not at all.”—His look softened.—“I don’t want to leave, either. In fact, I won’t leave your side, Eleanor.”

Bryce gave him a tiny smiled and they stared at each other, savoring once again the moment of being together. After a while, Eleanor laughed.

“What is it?”

“You look so fucking handsome, Bryce, it’s ridiculous, and I look like shit. I’m done a complete mess.”

Bryce chuckled, spotting the dark circles around her eyes, her tousled hair, how pale she was. He really hadn’t noticed how bad she looked.

“Yeah, you look like shit”—He teased.—"But you know what? You’re still the most beautiful creature in the universe, princess.”

Her eyes were swelling with tears, and a moment later, a sob escaped her mouth.

“Okay, okay, I take it back,”—He added seconds, later, noticing her swelling eyes. “you don’t look like shit, you look amazing, babe, incredible. Ready for a Vogue photoshoot. Ready for the Oscars.”

Bryce couldn’t tell if what escaped her mouth was a sob or a giggle, but her face had lightened somehow.

Somehow, he managed to end her anguish and ease her pain.

Somehow.

He didn’t know how.

As if it was pure luck.

But she perfectly knew it wasn’t luck.

“Gosh, Bryce…”—She couldn’t continue. It felt like she was out of breath.—"Bryce I…”

She brought her hands to the side of his head, her thumbs over the face shield as if she was caressing his cheeks.

She locked eyes with him, and that look, that adoring look made him feel millions of shivers through his all body. Those dreamy tender eyes managed to convey all the emotions that were brewing inside her.

And Bryce was finally, finally able to see it, after missing it so many times that day.

“Te amo.”

He was at last, at last able to hear it, after longing for it for so long.

Her eyes were looking directly into his soul, into his heart, pouring everything she had inside to fill him with the most sincere and sweet love. With adoration, admiration, tenderness. With the purest feelings anyone could imagine.

And those two words sounded like relief. Like she had been choking and those words out loud were acting like the air she had been needing for so long.

“I love you so, so, so much, Bryce.”

And her eyes now were even fuller with adoration and candor. Full of happiness and life, even if ten minutes ago she had been feeling ready to die.

“I… I wish I had realized sooner, and these weren’t the circumstances where I’m able to say it… but if I don’t make it, I don’t want to go without you knowing what I feel about you.”

“Babe, you’ll make it, you don’t need to do this just because you’re here.”

“I’m doing this because that’s how I truly feel. I’m in love with you.”

“You really are?”

Even if he had been waiting for those words for months, he couldn’t believe it. Even if he had been receiving signs all day, from different people, he still couldn’t believe it.

“Yes. Yesterday I was finally able to see it, but it has been there for a while.”

“How so?”

“I’ll explain it later. You need to know some things first.”

“Okay.”

“As you know, I went to Ethan’s apartment after the game.”

“Aha.”

And she told him everything that happened that night. She didn’t keep anything. Well, except the personal stuff Ethan had shared with her, but the confession, the things he promised her, the kiss, how she felt after that, what she talked with Aurora. Everything. Because she had nothing to hide and he deserved to know everything, just as it always had been.

“And I just like that, I realized that I was over him. Just like you said. I was in front of the Ethan I used to love, telling me he loved me, offering me everything. But it turned out I… I didn’t want him anymore.”

“I’m sorry it had to be this painful to you. I had no idea you had been hurt so much.”

“Yeah, I had it blocked, but I’m sure I would’ve told you if it wasn't the case.

Bryce stroke her hair in the most tender way he could, his eyes haunted.

“I’m sorry, babe. I’m for being so distant and an ass with you. I should’ve let you talk, but I was afraid of what you would tell me”

“I know. I know and I completely understood it. But I can’t deny that at some point I was afraid that… I hurt you to the point of you not wanting anything to do with me anymore. That going with Ethan that night was the last straw and that no matter what happened between him and me, you… you would want to break up."

“No, of course not. How could I decide something like that without a warning? And with something I pushed you to do? No. I was just… trying to delay the inevitable. The suffering of knowing that you gave him a chance.”

“Well, I didn’t. And I realized that I was in love with you instead. At last.”

“Are you sure about that? You know there’s no need to hurry…”

“Bryce, why is so hard to believe it? Should I shout it with a megaphone, or maybe post photos and stories on my Pictogram telling that I’m truly, madly, deeply in love with you so you can believe me? Because I’m willing to.”

Bryce laughed, incredulous.

“Truly, Madly, Deeply. Damn. Just like that Savage Garden song?”

“The very same. I like the 90s.”

“A woman after my own heart.”

She bit her lower lip, smiling.

“I cannot believe how blind I was. It has been there, the whole time!”

“I’m listening.”

“It’s…”

Her whole face lit up with that sunny smile he loved so much. For a moment, he forgot where they were.

“It’s in the way I look at you, like a fool. Like I was fifteen. It’s the fact that you’re my first thought in the morning and my last one before going to sleep. You’re the first person I think of when something good happens, or when something bad happens too. In your arms is where I feel safe, and I know there's no other place I'd rather be. And god, I laugh with all your jokes, even the bad ones, and I don't find you cocky anymore because all that you say about yourself is true, and I think about you all the damn day, Bryce. I’m all day wanting for the day to end so I can see you and kiss you. And…”

Eleanor stopped for a moment, trying to catch some breath. Bryce shook his head. He had the stupidest smile she had ever seen on him. The same smile she was sure she had on her face right now.

“Another example? My brother. I haven’t been able to stop talking about you. It wasn’t like this from the beginning, but now I’ve just realized that the last few weeks I haven’t done anything but tell him, or my mom, how happy I am with you. I’ve been even imagining how it would be if I ever introduce you to my abuela. I bet she would adore you the moment she meets you, and she would love you more than me, and would cook your favorite meal, and would give you the last spoon of ice cream and… and I really don’t care, because you deserve it. You deserve the last spoon of ice cream, and my grandma’s meals, and … Everything. You deserve everything, Bryce. I don’t know what else to say. I’m in love with you like a teenager, and I feel like never before. What did you do to me?”

He smiled, tears of joy streaming down his face. That slump in his throat hurt again, but for different reasons. It was for the absolute tenderness and adoration he was feeling inside his chest. Admiration. Love. God. He couldn’t understand how he could love her so much. How much she meant to him. How happy and complete she made him feel. He had never felt this for anybody before, he knew it already, but now he was realizing he would never feel this way for anybody else, ever.

“I’m crazy about you too, Eleanor. I’ve been holding these feelings for so long to not scare you or pressure you, but god, I feel the same way. I think about you all day, and every time I think about the future, you’re in there.”

“That’s a relief, because for a moment I thought I was being too cheesy and clingy.”

“Babe, you’re always cheesy. You can’t help it around me.”

“You created a monster, Bryce Lahela.”

“I like cheese. I would eat cheese all day. And for the record, I would definitely share the last spoon of ice cream with you"

Bryce winked at her and then pressed her body against his.

“God, I wish I could kiss you.”

“You will.”

“But I want to kiss you noooow."

Eleanor pouted and butterflies fluttered ferociously in his stomach. She made him feel like fifteen too.

“Well, miss impatience, is nice to finally meet you.”

"Tell me that you're not dying to kiss me right now."

“I am. But we’ll have to manage with what we have for now.”

“How so?”

“Imagination. How would you like me to kiss you the next time?”

“If there’s a next time.”

Bryce scowled her and squeezed her waist.

“There will be. You’ll get through this, babe. I promise.”

She gave him a sad smile.

“So?”

“So what?”

“How will you want me to kiss you after you get out of here.”

“Mmm… I think… Slow and sweet, just like our ‘first kiss’ at Isabella’s”

“Mmm what a good kiss. Cute and romantic.”

“Or maybe passionate and breathtaking, just like that kiss at the beach, on your birthday. God, I can’t decide!”

“Don’t worry, we can always try both.”

“I hope so.”

“We will. You have to believe me.”

“Okay. I believe you. If I die, I’ll come to visit you every night, Bryce Lahela.”

“Lucky for me you won’t die. I would hate to have your ghost every night by my side and not being able to kiss you and do you dirty things.”

“Bryce!”—Eleanor giggled. “Okay, okay, I believe you. Bring me that dreamy kiss now!”

“Close your eyes.”

Eleanor obeyed and closed her eyes.

“Remember that night at the Museum?”

“I could never forget”—She muttered—.

Bryce took her hand and with the tip of her fingers, he brushed her lips delicately, exposing her inner lip for a moment. Then with her thumb, he caressed her mouth.

“I will kiss you sweetly and delicately while I hold you by the waist, transmitting how much I love you, how much you mean to me. How happy I am to have you in my life.”

After a few seconds, she opened her eyes, smiling.

“That night was perfect.”

“Yeah, and you looked gorgeous.”

“But you, you were stunning in that silky pink shirt… And the night was so nice. Warm and starry. Oh, and there was music playing.”

“Yes, that slow jazz… When I fall in love… It will be forever”—He sang slowly.

“Or I’ll never fall in love…”—She continued.—“You remember the song?”

“Obviously. It played on my mind on repeat for like two weeks.”

“Oh. That means you had that kiss playing on repeat on your head for two weeks?”

“I plead the fifth.”

She chuckled.

“Well, I, for one, thought about that kiss a lot in the following days. Another example of how goofy you leave me.”

“Good I wasn’t the only one.”

Suddenly, her smile faded, and Eleanor looked at him earnestly.

“Thank you for taking a chance on us that night, Bryce. Since that day you’ve given me nothing but happiness. And I’m sure that from that day there was no returning point for me. Sooner or later I would fall for you, and I’m glad I finally did.”

“I would do it a million times, in a heartbeat, Eleanor.”

“And I’d choose you a million times, over and over again. I only wish that none of those million times had to involve me dying just when I realized I was in love with you.”

“You’ll make it, babe. I have so much love to give you, that I won’t let you go so easily.”

_____

A/N: Hello! If you make it this far, I have to thank you! I know it was a super long chapter, but it was really important (for the story and for me) and I honestly didn’t want to save words, nor split it in two chapters.

If I had to resume Bryce in this chapter in two words those would be: Husband material. And next chapter will be husband material x3264546.

Thank you for all your support, I hope you liked this chapter. I’d love to hear your opinions in the comments.

A big hug to each and every one of you!

A/N2: *spoiler* Graphic description of Eleanor after chapter 17:

I think it works the other way around too 😂

#Bryce Lahela #Ethan Ramsey #Choices #Choices Stories You Play #Bryce Lahela x MC #Bryce x MC #Open Heart Choices #Open Heart fics #Open Heart

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oneistoxnetwork · 3 years

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5 Reasons You Need to Upskill to be a Better Designer (Be Future Ready)

With the multidisciplinary field that design is, no amount of skills are too many. It is now an established practice to gain knowledge by taking up online design courses or doing individual research. To define this phenomenon, the term ‘Upskilling’ has been frequently used in recent times, but what exactly is it?

To put it simply, Upskilling is getting better at what you do. It is upgrading your knowledge (both theoretical and practical) of the subjects that may be directly or indirectly related to the field you’re working in.

Let’s look back at the past!

The design field is diversifying and merging indistinguishably with other fields, demanding more multi-talented professionals. Looking back at history, the greatest of designers were popular in their times and even now for being skilled in numerous fields and contributing to society at large. Leonardo Da Vinci, one of the most multi-talented people to walk on earth, was a skilful artist, mathematician, sculptor, architect, scientist, and astronomer. His works turned to be an inspiration for the later generation of polymaths, rivalled only by Michelangelo, his contemporary. These figures gave rise to the term ‘Renaissance Men’, with the ideal that said “a man can do all things if he will.”

Even apart from design, there have been several such personnel with an eagerness to be everything at once. Aristotle, the famous Greek Philosopher, was a brilliant writer. His works covered subjects like poetry, music, theatre, rhetoric, politics, ethics and even biology. He was also the teacher of Alexander the Great, who, as we all know, was one of the biggest conquerors of all times.

Issac Newton is not a foreign name to anyone in the field of science. Celebrated for his contributions to physics (theory of gravity and laws of motions), this English scientist was also an astronomer, alchemist, philosopher and theologian. His works laid the foundation for the progress of later generations of scientists, particularly Sir Stephen Hawking.

What’s happening now?

Increasing technology and resources have brought about specialisations in various fields of study. With specialists coming up in every sector, the number of all-rounders have been gradually decreasing.

But we know that history has always admired and valued multi-skilled people. Despite the revolutions taking place, traces of this admiration can still be seen, especially in the field of Film-making and Design. Actors are no longer expected to just act and film-makers are no longer expected to just direct. The best of the rest are those who are not only great at their primary skills but also good at other 21st century skills required in the field. A good example from the modern-day is FarhanAkhtar, an Indian actor, film-maker, producer, playback singer, screenwriter and television host. He is celebrated by the Indian audience for having proved his versatility time and again.

Similarly, design practices that do not adhere to just one type of product are more popular than the rest as they have a wider clientele and user base and strive for continuous experimentation and upgrade. With a complex network of professionals worldwide, multipotentiality is appreciated.

Thus, the need for all-rounders and design upskilling is emerging again.

[Read: The Assets of Success: 13 Golden Skills in Design to Master]

Multipotentiality

Now, what exactly does it mean to have multipotentiality?

It is the trait of a person

having interests in two or more fields of study

and curiosity to learn and excel at them. Such people are called ‘multipotentialites’ which is the opposite of

‘specialists’ and is used interchangeably with ‘polymaths’. They are required in almost every field; science, art, technology, medicine, business, commerce, etc.

Multipotentialites are valued for their fast learning skills and adaptability. Organisations are always keen to acquire individuals who can bring dynamism, novelty, enthusiasm and variety to work-places. Such professionals are also favoured to undertake leadership roles as they are better at empathising and understanding a broader set of situations, people and their perspectives.

It is great to be a specialist, but even better to be good at many other skills along with one. It is time to be the Jack of all trades AND master of one!

The changing times demand multi-faceted individuals to bring in innovative design solutions. Gradually, the need for regular upskilling comes up, whether through online design courses or through experiential learning.

Here are 5 reasons designers needs to upskill themselves:

1. To Fill the Skill Gap

As fellow designers, most of us can collectively agree that there is still a huge gap between our design education system and the practice. The system lacks the capacity to make students industry-ready, leaving them with little to no practical knowledge.

In the current scenario, students opting fordesign upskilling are constantly at an advantage compared to the rest, be it academically or professionally.

A lot of independent platforms have emerged that have recognised this gap and aim to fill it by offering learning to interested individuals, especially in the field of architecture with

1. To Have a Better Career and Job Prospects

It is no mystery that design establishments tend to hire aspirants with a broader range of skills. It is good to master one skill, but is it good enough?

With the increasing competition in the design field, there is more demand for

professionals who are adept at handling a variety of tasks

. For example, someone who is great at 3D modelling should also be able to manage an entire project if needed. The design industry has become experimental and welcomes multi-talented people with open arms. InitiativesWith the increasing competition in the design field, there is more demand for professionals who are adept at handling a variety of tasks. For example, someone who is great at 3D modelling should also be able to manage an entire project if needed. The design industry has become experimental and welcomes multi-talented people with open arms. Initiatives are being taken across the globe to recruit individuals who can perform multiple tasks instead of hiring someone just to perform one task. Naturally, such versatile individuals bring more to the organisation while making more for themselves. 1. To Progress in the Field A broader skill-set gets you better job opportunities, but what happens once you are into the field? Design Upskilling doesn’t stop once you’ve earned a job. You need to keep honing your skills and adding to the existing ones for your professional development. In the design industry, multi-skilled professionals are more likely to be given positions of responsibility and develop trust. Moreover, individuals with a zeal to constantly enhance their skills, adding more value to the team, progress faster than others in their career trajectory. Hence, adding more to your design skill plate will give you an upper hand at any point in your career. If you are a working professional, now is the time to upskill, rise and shine!

(Source: www.giphy.com)https://giphy.com/gifs/l1Kua6X2X3t9bSlNK/html5[Alt Text: GIF of a cartoon show, spongebobsquarepants, with the words “I’m ready”] 2. To Stay Relevant to the Changing Times Modern problems require modern solutions. It is obvious that one cannot run a design practice efficiently with obsolete techniques. Things that were considered awesome in the yesteryears may be completely outdated now. To align with the demands of the current world it is necessary to update,upskill and improve. Globalisation and digitisation have paved the way for several new domains in the field of design. From UI-UX design to Urban Planning, the good designers always have a fair idea of the advances happening in the field. Even clients are now getting more familiar with design as a profession and its importance, with a wide range of resources to facilitate awareness. Being on par with the rapidly altering world and understanding the contemporary necessities will give designers the kind of expertise needed to meet the requirements of today’s user base. Change is the only constant!

(Source: www.quotemaster.org)https://www.quotemaster.org/architecture+students[Alt Text: Image of a sketch with a drafting board and two people standing in front of it, one of them saying “I haven’t much experience of such an early version of autocad”] 3. To Start Out On Your Own It takes a great deal of skill to start practising as an independent designer or going for an entrepreneurial venture. The most difficult part, which is the beginning, can become easier if you have what it takes. The field of design is connected to and borrows from many others. Starting a design practice not only requires field-related knowledge but also inter-disciplinary skills like business management, automation, digital communication, etc. If you aim to eventually start on your own, acquiring know-how and soft skills is essential. Multi-skilled individuals can then collaborate with many different kinds of people to deliver fantastic results. A skilful leader makes a skilful team!

(Source: www.codycameron.com)https://codycameron.com/are-you-my-leader/[GIF showing popular animated character buzz lightyear surrounded by alien midgets] From filling the skill-gaps to practising design independently, we have reached full circle. The current pandemic situation has been harsh on us all. On the bright side, a lot of education platforms have come to light, inspiring individuals to make use of their time at home by taking up online design courses. Thanks to digitisation, it is now easier than ever to connect with individuals across the world! Thus, there has been a boom in the past year in the way people learn new skills. The growing give-and-take of knowledge around the world is turning designers into all-rounders with the skills necessary to tackle modern problems. So, if you are keen on trying something new, expanding your skillset and being future-ready, then check out these avenues for design upskilling and online architecture courses by Oneistox!

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kurtty-drabbles · 4 years

Text

House of M au (redone) part 8

N/A: I´m happy with the reviews. Yes, Scott took Jean´s last name because he wants to be Mr. Grey-puns are welcome here- anyway, the story will continue. Now, more about my Witch Queen of my heart.

@dannybagpipesarecalling @tieflingteeth @muninandhugin

The news channel has the liberty to express its concern ever since the fiasco on the Queen´s palace. This is an ironic spin, as the media, often label Wanda as being a totalitarian ruler who controls the media to say whatever she wants to further her own agenda.

Hard to think how allowing anyone any means of communication openly talk-sometimes even mock- the last incident in her home could help her in any way.

Wanda is pacing back and further as the anchor of channel 5 is re-telling the incident one last time. "As the royal advisory reported, the situation is under control and no one has gravely harmed thanks to the play of such illusions, according to some witness, many saw their worst fear come to life" the reporter points to the panel. "fire, snakes, zombies and much more to what was a peaceful night. No information regards who did such prank" and the TV was shut off by Quicksilver.

Pietro watches his sister pacing back and forth. Her twins- Tommy and Billy are sleeping, both ignorant of the fiasco that happened- and Lorna is waiting for her older sister to say something. This is an old dance between the siblings.

Finally, Pietro is the one to interrupt the dance, metaphorically speaking, as Wanda´s magic is flowing too freely. "Wanda? who do you suspect is behind this?"

And as for magic, again only metaphorically speaking, she halts her moves and bites her inner lips. Her red eyes slowly returning to her natural color-some would say, never to her face, that red is her natural color- and stares at her family.

"Lorna, you may not know this, but, father used to have a revolutionary group" Pietro snorts and Wanda promptly ignored him. "called the League of evil mutants, yes, it´s tacky name"

Lorna shakes her head. "I knew about that, and...the name is a bad attempt at irony, father wasn´t very good at this, wasn´t he?" Lorna asked trying to lift the mood. A rounding failure on her part.

"In that group, there´s a man called Mastermind" Wanda bites her inner lip and looks at Pietro. "Don´t go overprotective on me, but, the creepy old man used to make moves on me... 15 years old"

Pietro´s face turns a dangerous shade of vermillion. Wanda has to admire this face for a moment, they´re twins, connected in ways people can´t understand, she can feel his fury as she can feel it mellow out.

Pietro took a few low sighs. "If you didn´t tell me back then is because you could handle yourself...still, I´m pissed I never knew about that until now"

Wanda could mention how Janet Van Dyme used to hit on him, even with the age difference above them, however, Pietro is not as smooth and suave as people would like to believe. He never noticed and Wanda never let the older woman take advantage of her innocent twin.

"My point is, the man once tried to bribe me with promises of a better life and his illusions should have sealed the deal" Wanda´s tone is nonchalant. "I didn´t, of course, I´m Scarlet Witch...not a toy and I teach him the difference between magic and illusion" her grin is similar to Magneto.

(Few would say that to her face. Wanda has no white hair. Wanda has all the bad signs of Magneto if provoked)

Lorna looks back and forth to her older brothers. "ok, and you think he´s back? Retaliation for you told fuck yourself?" Lorna is a princess and she feels this is more than enough reason to use the F-bomb.

Wanda shakes her head. "The man didn´t seem heartbroken as he slept with Paula" Pietro shurgs and Wanda won´t elaborate how that was awkward or how their father could make some background check for his minions. "anyway, my point is...Mastermind has many daughters and Mastermind was killed 2 years ago."

"Great story sis, still not seeing the point here" Lorna states trying to imagine a younger Wanda and Pietro along with their father. Even in her mind, there´s zero chance of a positive and fatherly outlook for Magneto and his first kids. That really makes her look down at her ring. Magneto gave this ring to Lorna and to this day, she has no idea why.

"My point is...only someone of the Mastermind family could make those illusions and only one person in that family was powerful enough to pull that off" Wanda states composed.

Pietro answers for her. "Reagan!"

Wanda nods. "Lorna, when dad acquired this land...he didn´t get this by making legal and honest deals. He made a deal with Mastermind and well, I think he didn´t want to fulfill his part"

Lorna narrows her eyes for a moment. Allowing her body to slouched on the chair-completely breaking the princess image- as she tries to remember the "official version" as to how Genosha came to be.

"Dad told me...he buys this land...was that a lie?"

"Yes, he stole this land...but, it was a useless land that had no use for anyone...father is still a criminal, we can sympathize to the motives" Pietro offers magnanimously. "but we can´t forget he was willing to throw our lives away to achieve his noble goal"

Lorna now bites her lips. Yes, she can´t forget that.

"So, what we do? Go after this Reagan woman and tell her to stop?"

"Well, that would be a plan...if I knew where this woman is"

_________________________________________________________________________________________

Rogue Darkholme is used to many things. Having to wear a frilly dress in some events, sure, she can do that-she´ll look positively murderous, but, hey she can do that- having to coordinate a hasty exit as people are shouting in panic for snakes, fire and zombies are ready to kill them even though is an illusion? She can do that, however, she can´t do one thing.

"Kurt, NO!" Rogue uses all her big sister move to impose her denial on Kurt´s request. The azzure man is having none of this.

"Kurt, YES"

Rogue groans in response. "Kurt, she´s a civilian" Rogue has no inhibition to point at Kitty who is pretending to read her newspaper as if this is a common occurrence.

Rogue facepalm herself. "Kurt, she´s a civilian. She can´t be inside the intelligence of Genosha. She can´t participate in the mission"

"Uhm, excuse me! I was one of the few people who wasn´t affected by the illusions, just saying" her sing-song tone is noticed by Rogue who brown furrowed at such declaration.

"Kurt, you don´t have to drag your new girlfriend to missions! What mother will say"

Kurt pouts. "I´m more professional than that, plus, she could be an asset as you know, she´s immune to illusions...not everyone in our department has this luxury" the last part is chilling cold and it seems Kitty won´t be briefed about what Kurt is talking about.

Rogue mellows down. She nods. "Ok, fine, she can come with us....but mom will have a word with you, civilian"

"Kitty! My name is Kitty Pryde. Not civilian, you´re losing the cool aspect now...Kurt, you´re cooler than Rogue now"

Kurt's fist bumps the air.

Rogue is bemused.

#house of M redone #wanda maximoff #she can be a good sister to Pietro is not that hard marvel writers #Pietro maximoff #lorna dane #Kurtty yet #kurt wagner #kitty pryde #Rogue is still the coolest #Lady Mastermind #Mastermind is a creep

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hiirunakaarchive · 4 years

Text

– to act in haste (3)

↳ Facts could never be disputed, but natural and insensible phenomenons like fate were fickle and ever-changing. Ethan hoped that maybe the outcome of this god-awful situation he was in right now could be fickle and ever-changing too.

↳ (pt 1), (pt 2), (pt 4)

◇ pairing: ethan ramsey x mc (haruna sakurai)

◇ genre: like 99.9% angst, 0.1% comedy (?) i hope that part of the story was funny man idk

◇ word count: 4.6k+

◇ tags: @aworldoffandoms, @perriewinklenerdie, @jooous, @senseofduties, @moteestro, @anything-but-reality

◇ author’s note: hey friends, i hope yall are staying safe and indoors during these strange times! classes have been moved online, so i’ve been writing and lo and behold –– part three to my series (which i finished a lot sooner that i expected :o) ! i was honestly writing this thinking it’d be the finale but the 10k word count was telling me smth else, so a FOURTH part is gonna be posted and THAT is gonna be the last one! also not to toot my own horn but i really, honestly, TRULY believe this third part is the best ive ever written, and i hope you guys like it as much as i do! like always, feedback is super appreciated and i’d be more than happy to add anyone to the tags! happy reading!

–

Dr. Ramsey was almost never wrong.

Almost.

And he hung on to that almost with a vice-like grip, that one in a million possibility that maybe this time, he could be wrong, and God, he had never wanted to be wrong so badly. But anyone with half a brain could put two and two together and figure out why his spiteful ex-lover stood in his office long after her shift had ended; white coat folded neatly and hugged against her chest with a sealed envelope at hand. Yet, despite knowing fully well what that letter being slid across his desk meant, he dared to challenge the inevitable truth. To let himself hope—

I could be wrong.

He took it in his hands carefully, and tore the envelope open.

Let it be wrong. Let it be wrong, let it be wrong, let it be-

”You’re resigning.”

He read it slowly and steadily, gathering himself with one long breath and the last sliver of calm he could find.

Over the course of the year, Haruna Sakurai had become some sort of a celebrity in Boston’s exclusive world of health care professionals, dubbed the perfect model to emulate in all aspects of being a doctor. She was as kind as she was intelligent, but unflinching in her righteous principles and a terrifying force to be reckoned with.

She was Edenbrook’s most valuable asset, yet the letter of resignation laying open on Ethan’s desk seemed to taunt him in ways that delved beyond a professional context. He regarded it hollowly, absorbing the great loss her departure would serve to the hospital, but also let his mind pathetically wander to the thought of where her resignation would leave the both of them.

It was silly and stupid, because they weren’t even romantically involved anymore. That tranquil period where they sat across from each other in comfortable silence, danced in his kitchen until they realized breakfast was burned, talked and laughed until they couldn’t breathe – it was such a distant memory that Ethan was convinced that it was nothing but a dream.

It didn’t matter because she was slipping from him anyway.

“Losing you would be quite a blow to the hospital, Dr. Sakurai. Is there anything that would make you reconsider?” He had to be impartial.

Convince her to stay. For the hospital, not for yourself, you selfish prick. No more of this lovesick nonsense.

He couldn’t tear his eyes away from her, and it was deplorable. The year Haruna spent on the fellowship had changed her. She stood taller, spoke louder, smiled wider, and Ethan convinced himself that losing her was a trivial price to pay for the success she so deserved.

Haruna had grit her teeth and accepted his twisted gift, abandoning that whirlwind romance they had, and as compensation, acquired invaluable knowledge that no one could pry from her cold dead hands. She had so clearly moved on, thus, there was nothing left to do but for Ethan to make peace with it and follow suit.

“I’m sorry, but my mind is set. It’s a...career move.”

Yet why did he still insist on making her stay?

“A career move? Dr. Sakurai, you do know that you’re employed at one of the best hospitals in the United States.” He pushed his glasses further up the bridge of his nose, and she rolled her eyes at his statement of the obvious.

“Of course I do, but our partnership with Panacea Labs has them trampling on every standard and principle that made Edenbrook one of the best in the first place.”

“I hate saying this as much as you hate hearing it, but that’s not something we can change.” Ethan sighed as he rubbed his temples.

“I know, so I’m leaving before it disappoints me further.”

“Life in and of itself is a disappointment, Dr. Sakurai.” he argued. “We-“

“I’m going back to Japan.” She blurted.

Haruna bit her lip, bringing a hand to her face like it was a secret she meant to keep and just as suddenly as she said it, Ethan’s world stopped all at once. The clock that hung just above the entrance to his office stopped ticking. He saw Haruna’s lips moving as she continued to speak, but couldn’t hear a thing. Every joint in his body seemed to have froze and gone numb. Dead silence enveloped Dr. Ramsey to the deepest part of him that it could dig.

Dr. Sakurai’s confession rang in his ears like a siren, and Ethan wanted nothing more than to make it stop. The loss of what they had stung him to the point that he almost clutched at the imaginary ache of his chest, but despite that, he carried on. Seeing Haruna was never easy, but the dull sting at the sight of her served as a very real reminder that she wasn’t just a dream. That there once existed a period where Ethan loved a woman so much that he was no longer himself. She was real and tangible, and as long as she remained so, Ethan fooled himself into thinking he had a chance and the luxury of time in fixing what seemed to be irreparable.

You can’t fix this anymore.

That cruel realization slapped him back to reality.

“-y parents are encouraging me to come home and work in their hospital. I’m hoping that it can offer me new and invaluable insight– Dr. Ramsey are you listening?”

Ethan lifted his gaze from the envelope on his desk and met her eyes. He stood from his office chair and planted his hands on the surface of the table, leaning forward.

“I’m listening. And what insight, pray tell, can the Sakurai Medical Centre give you that Edenbrook can’t?”

The tone of his voice adopted a subtle bitterness to which Haruna raised a brow. She uncrossed her arms, imitating Ethan’s pose and setting one hand parallel to his on top of his desk.

“It’s a new experience.” She responded impatiently, “A more challenging setting.”

“In the hospital that your parents own? How could that setting ever challenge you the same way we do here?” He continued to prod.

“In ways you couldn’t possibly hope to understand. Are we done here?”

“Not until you tell me the real reason why you’re resigning, Dr. Sakurai. You’ve made a name for yourself in this city, you’ve accomplished what thousands of doctors wished they could at your age. How could you leave that all behind?”

Here they were again, arguing, God, they were always arguing. Both of them were far too proud and far too stubborn to swallow their pride and back down. The only thing that seemed like a capable reminder to keep things civil was the mahogany desk that kept them mere inches apart.

She placed a hand on her hip and leaned closer across the table.

“I think you’re taking things too personally, Dr. Ramsey.” Haruna accused.

She was close. Too close, and Ethan swallowed hard and realized he could never win against her.

He looked away, in denial. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Haruna scoffed.

“Really? Then look at me and tell me that I got this far so early into my career because of my own hard work. Tell me that every doctor in Boston would know my name even if you didn’t use your position to land me that spot on the diagnostics team even though I was in fourth place. Face it, Dr. Ramsey, you don’t want me to leave because it means that everything you did was for nothing.” She spat.

Ethan threw his hands up in aggravation. “Sakurai, this isn’t about me, god damn it! This is about you compromising a perfect career that–”

“You don’t know what it’s like!” She yelled, her voice resonating across the room.

The sudden raise in volume took Ethan by surprise, and he bit back a response as Haruna scowled in an attempt to calm herself.

“You have no idea what it’s like...walking into that room everyday with doctors like you, June and Baz, and knowing that I’m not even supposed to be there. I come in here and see you and am just reminded that every bit of success I have now is because you loved me. Too damn much, if you ask me.”

“You want to know the worst part of it all?” She laughed despite herself. “Acting like I didn’t enjoy every minute of that fellowship, when the truth is that I relished in it. I spent this entire year resenting you yet basking in all this knowledge and these opportunities that you gave me. Then I’d come in the next day and hate you a little less than I did the day before. One day, I woke up and realized that I probably never even hated you at all. If anything, I was...grateful.” She cringed as she said it, then looked at Ethan with contempt.

For the first time in a long time, it wasn’t directed at him, but at herself.

“Do you get it? I can’t keep working here, because the mere sight of you is proof that I’m just as greedy and self-serving as bastards like Declan Nash, and I’d sooner die than become a doctor so disgusting. If I can’t bring myself to hate you, then...” She trailed off and looked away, taking a deep breath to steady herself.

The revelation was all too much for Ethan to process, and his mind was riddled with questions. For over a year, he’d wake up in a cold sweat from nightmares of how she regarded him with immeasurable animosity. Was she trying to tell him that, that too, was a facade? A tense muscle in Dr. Ramsey’s jaw relaxed as he asked her quietly,

“Are you running from me, Haruna?”

“If I am?”

They looked at each other in a moment that seemed to end all too quickly, and the weight and meaning of what she said dawned on the both of them. Her eyes widened at the proclamation she mistakenly let slip and Dr. Sakurai snatched her letter of resignation from Ethan’s desk, starting towards the door.

“Never mind. Forget it.”

For a moment, he considered listening to her. To let her go like he’d always done. Every time they spoke, she always ended up leaving anyway. Ethan persuaded himself into believing that she was better off without him, but–

You are never going to have another chance after this.

And he realized, that the moment he let her leave that room, everything would really be over. He’d have to live with the regret of never having taken that final opportunity to mend what they’d both thought was unmendable, or at least try to. Would she have also wished that he’d tried to stop her?

“Wait...I said wait!”

Ethan bolted towards the exit, and Haruna froze in her tracks as he slammed the door back shut as she was about to leave. Her back was to him and his arm remained situated on the wooden surface, inches from her head.

“I need to know, Dr. Sakurai,” He breathed,

“Do I still mean something to you?”

Ethan heard her sharp intake of breath, taken aback by his sudden inquiry. Cautiously, Haruna turned to face him and that calm air of hers that always seemed so natural now looked like nothing but a brittle front to hold herself together.

“You do.” She admitted.

“I still love you, Dr. Ramsey. So much. I’ve loved you all this time but I-“

Her breathed hitched, and like a dam, she, and that distant and unbothered facade she was so adamant on maintaining, collapsed. Her cheeks were wet with tears and Ethan’s face fell as Haruna buried her face into her hands. He willed himself not to hold her.

She wouldn’t want you touching her. You don’t have the right. You don’t-

But against his better judgement he took her in his arms, and the solace he felt with the familiarity of this woman’s warmth, who seemed so small trapped against his chest, overwhelmed him with emotion. It had been so long since he last touched her, and both Ethan and Haruna knew that it may very well be the last. So he held her. He held her the way he wished he could have in the year that they didn’t speak. The way he should have held her from the start. And she let him.

He wasn’t sure if he could ever embrace anyone else the same way ever again.

“God, Ethan, where did we go wrong?” She sobbed.

He rested his chin gently on her head and didn’t respond, because he knew that nothing he could say in this predicament that they were in– no, that they’ve been in, would console her. Dr. Sakurai’s shoulders shook uncontrollably as she cried, and Ethan felt her go slack against him, holding her tighter as he lowered the both of them gently to the floor.

***

She was in his arms for the next hour. Sixty minutes of pure silence, apart from her weeping, and Ethan could do nothing but comfort the woman. He looked up at the ceiling as Haruna sniffled, and couldn’t remember the last time she had let herself be so vulnerable in front of him.

“We can’t be together like this.” She finally spoke, her voice raspy from the crying.

“I-” Dr. Ramsey began, ready to argue. He knew better though, and sighed as he leaned his head back against the wall. “I know.”

“Good. So you know that you have to let me leave, then.”

He stayed silent in an attempt to avoid the question. Of course he knew that, but he couldn’t bring himself to say it out loud. If he did, he’d be acknowledging that this was for the best; and more often than not, the right decision wasn’t always the easiest.

“Haruna, I...” He started in protest, but paused as he felt Dr. Sakurai’s hand slide up to rest on his cheek.

He looked down at her, and wondered if he was being too transparent. If she could see how broken he was at realizing the choice they both had to make. She sat up a little straighter, still in Ethan’s arms and rested her forehead against his. Then she asked him quietly. Pleadingly.

“Please, Ethan.”

How could he ever say no to her?

So he responded wordlessly, tilting his head and bringing his lips to hers. Haruna met him halfway, and a year and a half of fierce self-restraint and inexplicable pining for the feel of each other erupted all at once. She wrapped her arms around him and pulled him closer by the nape of his neck. Ethan cupped her face in his hands as he kissed her, softly at first, but every second that passed with her mouth on his summoned a tide of longing that he forced himself to keep latent all this time, and it only urged him to kiss her harder.

“I love you.” He groaned against her mouth. “God, I love you.”

She merely smiled at his reckless confession, holding him by the lapels of his coat until, Ethan, breathless, forced himself to pull away. He brought a finger below her chin and tilted her head up to look at him. Her eyes were red and swollen from the crying and her hair was disheveled from the moment of passion they just shared, but Ethan couldn’t recall ever being in love with her more than he was in that moment.

“Haruna, marry me.”

Her eyes widened in surprise. She looked like she was going to say something in protest, but Ethan continued in order to validate his outrageous request.

“Not now.” He interjected. “You’re going to go to Japan, and become the best damn doctor they’ve ever seen. Your success will be your own, and no one will ever remember that you were ‘The’ Ethan Ramsey’s protege in the first place because you’ll become someone a hundred times better.”

Dr. Ramsey pushed himself off the floor, and pulled Haruna up following that. Her eyes had begun to shine with tears again, dangerously close to falling, and Ethan held her face in his hands. He offered her a comforting smile, but he wasn’t certain if it was meant to reassure her, or to hide his own brokenness.

“Then, if these god damn stars ever choose to align for us and we see each other again, however long that might take, we’ll get married. Is that clear, Rookie?”

She laughed through the tears.

“Crystal, Dr. Ramsey.”

––

Dr. Haruna Sakurai departed for Japan the following week. No one knew of her resignation except for the diagnostics team, Naveen, and her closest friends from intern year, so Ethan remained unbothered at the gossip that rang through the hospital when one day, she had stopped coming to work and no one knew why.

After that evening where he vociferated that almost childish marriage pact, Dr. Ramsey and Dr. Sakurai failed to have another chance to speak. He was busy with his own doctorly duties and Sakurai was preoccupied with tying up any loose ends before she left for good. They’d merely pass by each other in the halls and their interactions alternated between a subtle smile, a curt nod, or a discreet brush of the fingers.

When Haruna accepted his poor excuse of a proposal, Ethan thought he’d convinced himself that it was going to be alright. That things would turn out fine because they parted on good terms and with the knowledge that they’d made the right choice.

So he had to pretend, and to an extent he never did before.

Pretend like he wasn’t heartbroken at the fact that she didn’t say goodbye.

Pretend like he wasn’t just as surprised as everyone else when he came to work and didn’t hear the sound of her voice by the nurses’ station like he would everyday.

The feigning of indifference had embedded itself so deeply into his routine that Ethan believed it was real. He readopted his strictly objective nature, like how he used to be before he met her, and just like that, his world went numb and grey.

“I’m worried for you, Ethan.” Naveen sighed as he sat across Ethan’s desk, genuine concern written all over his face.

Dr. Ramsey didn’t bother looking up as he flipped through applications for the year’s new batch of interns. “We have hundreds of patients to treat and a budget cut that still needs to be solved. I’m not who you should be worried about, Naveen.” He replied dryly.

“My shift ended twenty minutes ago, my boy,” Dr. Banerji chuckled.

“I’m not here as administration, I’m here as your friend. Now tell me, why are you acting this way?”

"Acting what way?” Ethan quipped, setting down a folder to give his mentor his full attention. “I’m not any different from the last twelve years we’ve been working together.”

“Completely and wholly devoted to your job, I know. But in the past twelve years I’ve known you, you’ve never been so...” Naveen rested his elbow on the armrest of his chair as he pondered for the right word. “Anesthetized?”

Banerji eyed Ethan carefully, almost strictly.

“You’ve always been a workaholic, Ethan, but never to the point that you neglected your own health. You’re a walking contradiction as a doctor.”

Ethan knew he was right. If there was anybody in the world that he could never win against in an argument, it was his mentor and his mentee. The three of them were an elite trifecta with a unique bond equipped with boundless knowledge, and Ethan swallowed hard as he remembered her for the first time in the four months since she left.

After coming to terms with her resignation, Ethan thought that their parting satisfied him enough to live on happily and assured of their love for each other. But the following week of being deprived of her presence and being reminded he might never see her again made Dr. Ramsey realize that it was stupidly naive of him to think so. This was nothing like the two months he spent in the Amazon, because he didn’t have that certainty of her greeting him when he inevitably came back. He was unsure of whether the stars really would align for them like he suggested, but certain that he’d never love anyone the same way he loved her.

He drowned himself in work and almost stopped coming home. The bags beneath his eyes had grown so much more prominent, and four months of this self-negligent lifestyle had aged him more than twelve years of working as a doctor of internal medicine ever could. Of course Banerji had been the first one to notice.

“She’s there everywhere I go, Naveen.” Ethan confessed, unable to keep it to himself any longer.

“Can’t even leave this damn office and grab a coffee anymore. I ordered my usual roast at Derry’s, and you know what happened? The barista snuck me a free espresso Romano! Told me, ‘for the other pretty doctor,’ and I almost lost it.”

Dr. Banerji stared in disappointment at his own pupil’s oblivion. He had given him too many invaluable lessons to count, but the one thing he never succeeded in helping Ethan understand was the importance of subjectivity. That sometimes even the most logical and calculated decisions were no match against the fickle loyalties of the heart.

“Answer me honestly, Ethan,” Naveen dropped all hints of playfulness.

“Do you regret letting her leave?”

–– FIVE YEARS LATER

“Do you regret letting her leave?”

When Naveen asked that question, the answer popped into Ethan’s mind shamefully quick. Accompanied with that epiphany, his world, the one that went numb and grey, began to scream altogether. The imaginary pain that once pricked him frivolously like pins and needles hit him all at once and burst into flames. Shallow incisions made to his heart with every thought of her and what could have been, transitioned into relentless, deep cuts that came at a pace faster than he could heal.

Over the course of five years, Ethan stopped trying to fight it and left his heart to be mangled by the regret.

“Yes, I regret it.”

Today marked his seventeenth year of working at Edenbrook, and Dr. Ramsey had lost count of how many batches of interns had come and gone. He still thought about her occasionally, when he’d see her friends in the hospital or at midnight in bed and alone with his thoughts; but time had done a fairly adequate job of healing that wound. Five years in retrospect didn’t seem that long, but it was enough for Dr. Haruna Sakurai’s face to blur and drown into the deepest recesses of Ethan’s mind.

“He’s so freaking fine, but I swear he doesn’t have eyes.”

Making his rounds, Ethan’s brows furrowed irritably at the interns he caught gossiping in the hall. He tucked his clipboard under his arm, more than ready to reprimand them until a calloused hand caught him by the shoulder.

“Shhh. I want to know what they’re saying about you.” Ethan turned his head just enough to see that it was Dr. Lahela.

He never expected to grow close with one of her brother-like figures, but him and the surgeon spent too much time together at the gym, and Ethan grew fond of the younger doctor more than he cared to admit.

“You know Dr. Tremaine? The pretty one with a sixteen thousand follower count on Instagram? She asked him to dinner and he just walked past her like he didn’t hear anything.”

“You did not turn down Dr. Tremaine.” Bryce covered his mouth with a hand, feigning shock and Ethan retorted almost immediately with his own dry humour.

“I think you forget sometimes that the thought of your best friend still torments me.”

“Right. Sorry.”

They turned back towards the young doctors, so deep into their conversation that the two didn’t even bother hiding anymore. Ethan leaned against the wall patiently as Bryce cleaned his stethoscope with an alcohol wipe he dug out from his pocket.

“Dr. Castillo’s brother did his residency here too, and rumour has it that Dr. Ramsey actually had a fling with an intern from his batch a couple years back.”

“Shut up. She must’ve been so hot if she could make Dr. Ramsey budge.”

Ethan leaned over to Bryce, unsure of why he was even following his request of keeping silent.

“My ears are bleeding, Lahela.” He aggressively muttered under his breath.

“Wait, they’re getting to the good part. You know how I love hearing Haruna’s praises sung– wait, Dr. Ramsey!” The surgeon’s voice faded as Ethan ignored his plea, beginning his march towards the rumourmongering interns.

“–Super hot, super smart, and super scary. Apparently she punched Declan Nash in the face once.”

“Shut up! Who is she?”

“You know the one from the last issue of Times? Like, total medical prodigy? Asia’s top doctor who-”

“–Turned her parents hospital into Japan’s top research facility, I know the whole deal. What about her?”

“So, like, she used to work at Edenbrook right? Apparently-”

“You two, interns!” Ethan barked down the hall.

“Dr. Ramsey!” And his terrifying approach was drowned out by Harper Emery’s own voice and the loud clicking of her heels as she rounded the corner.

Complete, utter fear settled into the young doctors’ eyes as they realized that they were in the company of Edenbrook’s most skilled and accomplished staff, one of whom they were gossiping about. Their gaze darted between a cool and collected Harper, and Ethan, who was very visibly seething, and found they could look nowhere else but the floor.

Harper and Ethan rekindled their friendship following Aurora’s transfer to Mass Kenmore. Harper realized that she wanted the fellowship more for Aurora than she did for herself, and thanks to the younger Emery distancing herself from Edenbrook and her aunt’s legacy, the women were closer now than they’ve ever been before.

“We need to talk.” Harper demanded, despite being aware of the tension.

“It might have to wait, Dr. Emery, I’m in the middle of something important.”

Harper stepped towards him and spoke in a voice low enough that only Ethan could hear, her tone demanding his full attention.

“Dr. Ramsey.” Harper repeated, more firmly this time.

Ethan sensed the urgency in her voice, and looked between his friend and the interns. Exhaling once, he shot them one more infuriated look before turning back the way he came and following his colleague. Ethan eyed Dr. Lahela expectantly as him and Harper strolled past.

“You're up, scalpel jockey.” And Bryce smiled excitedly, closing his eyes and getting into character before storming down the hall.

“Coffee must be one hell of a drug if I’m seeing not one, but two interns chatting ‘til kingdom come while they’re still on the damn clock! Both of you, names!”

Harper failed at containing a smile. “You’re a horrible influence, Ethan.”

He shook his head, repressing his own laughter. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. That pupil of yours wouldn’t leave me alone until I showed him the ropes of...what did he call it, ah– oral persecution. So what was it that you wanted to tell me?”

“You and Dr. Hirata will be in attendance for a medical conference in Kyoto as Edenbrook’s representatives.”

He nodded in response, continuing to look straight ahead as they walked. “Hmph, like always.”

“And Dr. Sakurai will be present as the keynote speaker.”

#choices #ethan ramsey #ethan x mc #ethan ramsey fanfiction #choices fanfiction #ethan ramsey x mc #open heart

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fakeyellow · 5 years

Text

Kamilah faces the consequences of her actions. The Ending(s) of Forget Me Not.

I wrote three different endings. If you don’t want to read all of them, just read the third one.

Kamilah watches from afar as Isla puts her life back together, piece by piece. There’s a bit of confusion, adjustment needed as Isla comes to terms with the missing gaps of her memory but she’s always been strong and she picks herself up.

Kamilah follows Isla’s career as she becomes Grant Emerson’s campaign manager and successfully gets him elected as Mayor of New York. And although she knows it’s old fashioned to cut out newspaper clippings, she does exactly so, collecting all the snippets in articles and photos that include even the slightest mention of her.

When Isla seems to decide that she doesn’t want a future in politics, she looks into jobs with financial corporations, and at one point, her resume crosses Kamilah’s desk via the mistake of an intern.

Her hand pauses over the small, professional headshot included in the resume and Kamilah can’t help but stroke it tenderly, as if she were stroking the woman’s actual face.

She’s changed her hair since the campaign and it suits her. Although the picture is still Isla, there is a remarked maturity in her face that reminds Kamilah bitterly of just how much time has passed.

She can only imagine how much Isla must have grown, how much she must have changed, how much she must have gone through. The new connections she must have made, the new interests she must have discovered, the new relationships she must have formed...

There is only so much her guards can tell Kamilah, from their positions in Isla’s neighbouring apartments, and besides, she had placed them there to guard Isla, not to spy on her.

She forces herself to be content with what she does know of Isla and she continues to scour the newspapers for new mentions of her.

—

A few years later, when Isla’s become established in her own career, Isla falls in love.

Kamilah discovers this all by chance one day when she’s meeting with the lawyer representing a business Ahmanet Financial is in the middle of acquiring.

The lawyer’s phone lights up with a call and although the woman quickly apologises and puts it into her pocket, Kamilah catches a glimpse of the lock screen.

It is a photo of Isla and the woman, dressed in a beautiful white dress and a white suit respectively. They’re kissing and Kamilah suddenly notices the shiny, new wedding band on the lawyer’s finger.

The meeting finishes without any other complications and Kamilah is left alone in her office.

There is an unspeakable pain in her heart, a sudden pang of loss even though she had always known this was likely to happen, and she closes her eyes, the photo branded onto her mind.

It’s in the middle of her grief that Kamilah then hears the voice.

It’s small, even with Kamilah’s heightened senses, and she realises it must be coming from the lawyer’s cellphone as she makes her way to the elevator.

Words of affection are exchanged between the two women and Kamilah listens to Isla, hearing the happiness, the warmth, the love that flows in her voice.

Although it still hurts, Kamilah smiles.

“I’m happy for you Isla,” she whispers into her empty office.

And that is the last time Kamilah hears Isla’s voice.

—

For all intents and purposes, Isla lives a long, fulfilling life.

She thrives in her career, leading numerous initiatives that help the lives of thousands of people. She flourishes in her marriage to the lawyer, and they spend a happy 50 years together.

Isla passes peacefully in her sleep at the old age of 84 and her funeral is filled with all the people who’s lives she touched.

Speeches are made of her great deeds, her loving nature, her unrelenting determination to do what is right.

And when the last funeral-goers finally trickle out and Isla’s body is laid to rest in the ground, a single figure dressed in black appears.

The figure walks slowly towards the newly engraved tombstone and bows her head, tears trickling down her cheeks.

Kamilah kneels and places a single stem of forget me not flowers on the grave of the woman who will always hold her heart

2. Short ending if Serafine’s memory erasure hadn’t held.

Some background information: When Isla awakes without any memories or clues of the past year, she becomes determined to never again be left with nothing. She gets into photography, a way to forever capture moments of time. Even if her memories disappear once again, she will at least have her photographs.

One day when she’s developing her photographs, she notices a woman appearing over and over in her photos. She’s always in the background, with her face partially obscured, but Isla finally finds a picture where the woman’s full face can be seen.

After doing some research, Isla figures out that it is Kamilah Sayeed, the elusive CEO of Ahmanet Financial, and she goes over to the corporation building.

In the place where so many things had happened, Isla’s memories suddenly return and she goes to confront Kamilah in her office.

—

“How could you?” Isla burst out.

The shock on Kamilah’s face disappeared, giving way to a deep weariness and shame.

Kamilah sighed heavily, “I know. I did terrible things and I have been paying the price every day since.”

“No,” Isla shook her head as her eyes began to water, “How could you do that to me?”

“You were tearing yourself apart, Isla,” Kamilah said desperately, needing Isla to understand why she’d done what she had, “I wasn’t going to just stand still and watch as a small part of you died each day.”

“Still,” Isla’s voice broke on the word.

“It should have been my choice,” she continued fiercely, “And I would have told you that no matter what happened, I would always love you. I would always choose you.”

“We could have gotten through it together,” Isla cried out before turning silent.

It was after a long silence that Isla eventually asked, in a small voice that conveyed the weight of all of the hurt she carried, “Didn’t you trust me?”

She gazed probingly into Kamilah’s eyes, as if searching for something in its depths. But finding them lacking, Isla finally sighed and whispered.

“Goodbye Kamilah.”

3. If Serafine’s memory erasure hadn’t held: Version 2

“How could you do that to me?” Isla asked, her face crumpling as she grappled with the full realisation of what had happened.

And although Kamilah wanted nothing more than to sweep her up in her arms and never let go, there was also a part of her that wasn’t sorry for what she’d done.

“You were tearing yourself apart Isla!” Kamilah burst out almost in frustration, desperately needing Isla to understand why she’d done what she had done, “I wasn’t going to just stand still and watch as more and more of you died with each day.”

“So what,” Isla scoffed, her watery eyes burning furiously at Kamilah, “You thought you’d erase my memories? You thought that if I didn’t remember you or anything else from the past year, I’d just return to my normal life, as if nothing had ever happened?

Kamilah remained silent, unable to say anything as Isla’s voice grew in intensity.

“Well you were wrong,” Isla bitterly said, “When I woke up, I was alone. Do you know how it feels to have woken up only to realize that you’ve lost an entire year of your life?”

“You even took Lily away from me,” Isla cried out, tears streaming down her cheeks, “You took Adrian and Jax and…”

“You all were my family and you took it all away” She continued, “I couldn’t even remember you. I just knew that there was something essential missing.”

Isla paused now, her voice growing quiet as she stared directly at Kamilah, “I cried myself to sleep every night. Did your guards tell you that?”

Kamilah flinched but Isla continued.

“Did they tell you that every day I woke up wishing I hadn’t? Did they tell you that I felt like a shell of a person, that sometimes, it felt as if I would drown in my loneliness?”

“Isla, I-” Kamilah began hoarsely.

“Did you even miss me?” Isla cut her off, searching probingly into the depths of Kamilah’s eyes.

A thousand words swelled up in her chest, begging to be released, but in the end, Kamilah could only breathe out, “Every day. Each and every second, I never stopped missing you.”

A fresh wave of tears spilled over and flowed down her face even as Isla forced herself to harden.

“I don’t forgive you,” Isla softly stated and Kamilah closed her eyes in response. There was pain written in the lines of her face but she nodded, as if she had expected this.

And then, suddenly, warm arms wrapped around Kamilah, Isla’s head nestling into her chest.

“But you’ve punished yourself for long enough,” Isla finished tearfully, “You have to forgive yourself. You deserve happiness too Kamilah.”

And Isla’s words finally caused Kamilah to break down in long, overdue tears. She’d repressed her emotions for so long in an attempt to atone for the weight of her countless sins, a weight that she’d constantly carried with her.

The redemption in Isla’s words were more than she’d ever hoped for.

Isla leaned back in their embrace, tenderly wiping away Kamilah’s tears. Kamilah grabbed onto Isla’s hand, leaning into her touch.

“Everyone is allowed to make mistakes. To mourn over something they wish they could undo. The important thing is that you come out of it a better person. You face up to what you did and you make amends. That is how you make up for your actions. Not by punishing yourself out of misplaced guilt,” Isla said.

Kamilah nodded and stared wondrously at Isla, almost unable to believe that this remarkable woman had come back to her, that Isla still believed so strongly in her.

“I still don’t forgive you for what you did to me,” Isla interjected sternly before softening, “But I will. And I will never stop loving you.”

Kamilah’s heart swelled with affection and it seemed impossible that one person could love someone so much.

“I love you too.”

—

A/N: The first ending was what I originally had in mind for the story and is why I titled it “Forget Me Not.” I thought it’d be sad to imagine Kamilah watching over Isla from a distance, seeing her have a happy life even if it broke her heart to not be with her.

Then I wrote the second ending where Isla isn’t able to forgive Kamilah for what she’s done to her. I really just wanted to end it on “Goodbye Kamilah.”

Then I thought about the second ending again and I thought the MC should be angrier at Kamilah at first, so that transformed into the third ending, which I think I like the best. I had a hard time coming up with what Isla’d say at the end so I used the long, italicised quotes from BB Book 2 Chapter 12 and 15.

Which ending was your favourite?

#bloodbound #kamilah x mc #kamilah sayeed #playchoices #playchoices fanfic #my writing

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sontwine88 · 4 years

Text

Restoring A Residence.

National Building And Construction Code.

Content

Exactly How The Home Remodelling And Also Refurbishment Providers In London Job.

Rj Repair Providers.

Begin Your Project.

Little Orangery Conservatories And Glass Conservatories.

Let The Sunshine In! Whatever You Wanted To Know Concerning Sunrooms

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The National Construction Code of Australia (NCC) was previously known as the Building Code of Australia (BCA). It is published and maintained by the Australian Building Codes Board (ABCB). It contains technical provisions for the design and construction of buildings and other structures throughout Australia.

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A little planning at the start can go a long means toward reducing costs in the future. Understanding the square footage you as well as your family members need is the very first step in locating the ideal residence.

Beginning Your Project.

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Little Orangery Conservatories And Glass Conservatories.

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Some gorgeous layout will certainly be engulfed when paired with clashing surfaces, which decreases the beauty of the structure and its contents together. A vital active ingredient to any kind of fantastic home design is the cooking area format. Make sure that it has everything you will certainly require to enjoy this room. Shown is a lovely premium kitchen area from this luxury artisan home strategy. Seek POWER STAR/Green home plans supplied by business like Your house Designers to ensure you develop one of the most energy-efficient residence for your area.

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