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lucyintheskywithxanax · 4 years ago

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I Saw You Trying, My Love

Pairing: Wilhemina Venable x Fem Reader

A/N: ok so this is long, and angry. It all happened because I really wanted to explore the headcanon that Wilhemina would be very possessive and very jealous if she were in a relationship. How would that relationship work? Could it work? I hope you’ll enjoy this piece, lovelies <3

Word count: ~ 8 200

“And what do you think you’re doing?”

Wilhemina’s voice cut through the silence, sharp and angry.

You ignored her. You kept shoving the contents of your wardrobe into your bag.

“I said, what do you think you’re doing?”

“I heard you the first time,” you snapped. You threw one last pair of socks – your favourite, fluffy and glittery – into your bag and gave it a shake. “I thought you’d have figured it out by now.”

You zipped up your bag and stomped past Wilhemina out of the room you had shared with her for the past two months. She must have realized how serious you were, by then, because she followed close behind you. She had never done that before when you had had a fight. She was too proud to run after you like a desperate child. Usually she would let you walk off and wait for you to blow off steam. But today, the sound of her cane followed you down the stairs and into the living room as you went around it, grabbing items you would need – your book, your glasses, your phone charger. Wilhemina’s watch. You threw that back on the couch when you realized what it was.

“Has your brain turned to mush? Where do you plan to go? You have nowhere to go to, Y/N.”

Wilhemina positioned herself in the doorway, blocking your way, both her hands gripping her cane. You came to a halt in front of her and scowled.

“I’m not a baby, Wilhemina,” you retorted, your face mere inches from hers. Your words were thick with anger. “I’ll get along just fine without you. Actually, I’ll be better off without you. Now move.”

She stood her ground, glaring back at you.

“What are you gonna do?” you hissed. “Uh? Lock me up? Bring me food once a day, torture me? Are you going to lock me up in here until you break me and turn me into the obedient pet you wish I were?” You paused to take a breath. “Is that your plan, Mina, my love?” You all but spat the last two words at her like a curse.

For a second you recoiled. You hadn’t meant to do that, turn a term of endearment, a promise of care and tenderness whispered so many times before to soothe and comfort and reassure, into poison. But on second thought, you were glad you had. She deserved the sting.

“I don’t –“she started, but you interrupted her.

“For God’s sake I have the right to spend time with my friends! Not all my life revolve around you, Wilhemina! You cannot keep me with you every minute of every day like a fucking dog!” A fresh bout of fury rose to your head and took control of you. “I can spend time with other people, I can enjoy myself without you! But what I can’t stand is you snapping at me and calling me names every time I so much as smile to someone else! I’ve had enough.” You lowered your arms in defeat, shaking your head at her. “I’ve had enough. I’m leaving. Move.”

Wilhemina’s face was hard and angry, her jaw clenched tight, her poise proud and dominating, but her eyes – you had always been able to tell what she truly felt by looking into her eyes. They were your favourite thing to stare at, not only because it was so easy to get lost in them, but because they were the key to understanding her. The key that opened the safe where she hid herself when she did not know how to communicate or thought she had to lie to keep herself safe. Her eyes were always, always honest. Especially with you. You took one look at them now and then had to look away before your resolve left you.

“Where are you going?” she asked.

“To Maggie’s place.”

Wilhemina scoffed bitterly. “Why, of course. Right into the arms of the daft prostitute.”

“Mina she’s my best-friend since high-school,” you growled, raising your free hand to rub your forehead in frustration. “Please don’t insult her.”

“And what a friend indeed. Always so eager to please, so eager to have you all by herself so that she can lay her dirty little hands on your arm or - ”

“This is what best-friends do!” you roared.

Wilhemina didn’t even flinch.

“Why don’t you screw her tonight?”

“Alright, you – you know what, I’ve had enough.”

You pushed past her, and you must have been too brutal, or maybe she had been unsteady to begin with; in any case, she dropped her cane, and her knees gave way. She winced as she braced herself for the fall, for the pain – but you wrapped your arms around her waist to support her, and held her against you. “I’ve got you,” you whispered into her hair.

Time froze. Silence fell. You closed your eyes, nuzzling your nose in her hair. What were you doing? Leaving her? Ridiculous. As if you could live without her. You pressed her closer against you, feeling like you could burst into laughter at your own excessive behavior. This was just like any other fight you had had with Wilhemina before, nothing you could not mend. Leaving this house, leaving this woman, had never been an option. It would mean leaving your heart. Leaving a part you wouldn’t – couldn’t – survive without.

You dropped a kiss on her forehead and were about to pull away. To cup her face and kiss her mouth and laugh with her at how stupid, how childish you were.

But then you remembered. All the times she had gone too far. All the snapping and the hurting and the possessive, jealous, unhealthy behavior. Earlier this afternoon she had slapped one of your coworkers and friends for “standing too close to you”. It was the first time she had used physical violence. The last straw.

You knew where it all came from, the insecurity and the fear and the pain. But that did not make it acceptable.

Gently, you let her go, picked up your bag and made for the front door.

“Y/N?”

She followed you down the corridor, stopped a few inches away from you as you turned the key in the lock. You felt her hand brush your elbow, but she did not touch you. Somehow it was this, her hesitation, that broke your heart.

“Don’t come after me,” you told her over your shoulder.

“Y/N don’t you dare –“

You opened the door, ignoring her, closing your eyes against the setting sun and the tears that were starting to pool. Wilhemina’s voice rose behind you again, not angry anymore, but shaking, and terrified. She was terrified.

“Y/N don’t you – “

You slammed the door behind you and ran down the driveway to your car, afraid you’d turn back and fall into her arms if you stopped for one second.

It hurt. It felt like your heart had been torn out of your chest. You opened the door of your car with shaky hands, sobs wracking your body, barely seeing anything through your tears.

You didn’t remember much after that. You must have driven all the way to Maggie’s. Knocked on her door, with your bag in one hand and sobs bubbling out of your throat. She must have let you in, asked you, were you alright, was Wilhemina alright – perhaps she hugged you. Certainly she made you some tea, for Maggie was one of those people who believe tea can make everything better. As if you had not irremediably broken what you cherished most.

You must have drunk your tea, to please Maggie.

The bed in her spare room was big and comfortable. The sheets smelt of fresh peaches. You spent the rest of the evening cocooned in their warmth, alternating between dozing and sobbing into the pillows. When night fell, Maggie brought you dinner on a tray. She sat beside you as you swallowed what your stomach could hold. And then she asked you what had happened.

You hadn’t been able to tell her yet. You’d thought that, perhaps, if you kept it a secret, your leaving Wilhemina wouldn’t be real. You would be able to go back home and find her there waiting for you. She would rise when she’d hear you come in, and she would smile that fond smile of hers and wrap you up in her arms and kiss you slow and sweet. Somehow, all of your problems would be gone.

It didn’t work like that. You knew it didn’t. But still, you couldn’t help but hope.

Maggie didn’t believe you, at first. She gawked at you, then narrowed her eyes and scrutinized your face. She was naive, Maggie. Very romantic. She believed love was stronger than everything else. She had spent five minutes with you and Wilhemina and proclaimed with tears in her eyes that she had never seen two people more in love. It simply wasn’t possible for you to be without Wilhemina, and for Wilhemina to be without you. You would cease to exist. The world would explode.

But then, as you dissolved into tears again, unable to finish your story as you desperately clang to her, her face fell. She let out a small “oh” that sounded so surprised, so final, so defeated. It rang in your ears like a bell mourning death.

You didn’t go to work the day after. Nor the day after that. You knew Wilhemina would be at Kineros, knew she was too hardworking to even consider taking a day off. Hell, Wilhemina could be dying of pneumonia, she would still drive to work and sit at her desk and boss everyone around. Throwing snarky comments like knives at frightened employees, making sure everyone was doing their jobs. You could picture her, sitting straight and proud in her chair, with her cane leaning against her desk and her hair tied in that high ponytail you loved so much, for it accentuated her sharp cheekbones. Had she taken off the photograph on her desk? Of you and her, on a sunny day in the countryside a year ago, a few days after you had started dating. Your hand on her cheek, your teeth on her chin, her eyes half-closed and crinkled up with laughter.

You wouldn’t have gone to work even if Wilhemina hadn’t been there. There was no point anymore. You had never really cared for the job anyway. The only thing that had made life interesting had been Wilhemina.

So you spent hours in bed until the sheets no longer smelt of fresh peaches but of your sweat and tears. You went for a run with Maggie. You tried to keep yourself busy, read a book, watched movies, cleaned Maggie’s house. You knew you couldn’t spend the rest of your life at Maggie’s, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

It became harder to get up in the morning. Harder to fall asleep at night. So you daydreamed and thought of Wilhemina. To soothe the pain of her absence. You thought of her face in the morning, still soft from sleep. That magic moment when she would wake and those big, brown, doe eyes of hers would meet yours and smile. How deftly she would do her hair, ponytail always perfectly centered. How sometimes, while she waited for the water to boil for her tea, she would stare out the window and get lost in the view.

One day it struck you how often Maggie did touch you. She was a very touchy-feely person, had always been: she would pat your shoulder or hold your hand or stroke your arm or kiss your cheek. It was innocent, she behaved like that with everyone. But now you realized how it must have looked to someone as insecure as Wilhemina.

Maggie was beautiful. All blue eyes and soft strawberry blond locks and pink cheeks and pretty flowery dresses. She was soft, and selfless, and very kind, and everyone adored her. She taught French at the University. Had a fiancé, wanted to start a family. Exercised every day. She was normal and healthy – more than that, she was perfect in every way. No rough edges, no high walls, no back pains that kept her up all night, no early appointments to the doctor’s, no days that could be ruined by one glance at her reflection in the mirror. Maggie had found her place in the world and the world cherished her.

And yet – and yet how brighter Wilhemina shone in your head. She was a lighthouse, Maggie a candle. How much more precious and rare Wilhemina was. There were a million things in her that singled her out as one of the most fascinating person you had met. How she could make a witty comment on something the likes of Maggie would never notice in the first place. How she would stare right into the eyes of whatever scared her and defeat it with patience and determination. How deeply, how fiercely she loved.

On the eighth morning without her you woke up completely panicked and haunted by the knowledge that she was hurting on her own. She would never tell anyone she needed help, she had never allowed anyone but you to see her vulnerable. She would push on through her days as if everything was perfectly fine and go back every night to a dark, cold, lonely house where everything would remind her of you. Did she get enough sleep? Was she even eating? It seemed likely to you she would use food deprivation to punish herself. Eating the bare minimum to make it through the day without collapsing.

You asked Maggie to check on her. She drove to your house one evening and came back in a sour mood. Oh, Wilhemina was just fine, she jeered. Her usual pleasant, cheerful self. She had opened the door, taken one look at her, and sent her off with a scoff. Maggie was so angry she spilled most of her drink on the floor. And despite it all, you couldn’t help but smile.

In the morning of the tenth day, after Maggie had gone to work, you came downstairs and slumped on the living room couch. It was a beautiful, sunny day, so you had opened all the windows and the front door to let the draft in. You prayed the fresh air would take away some of the ache in your chest. Or maybe a murderer would walk into the house and put an end to your misery.

You were starting to doze off when you heard a knock on the front door. You started, and sleepily called out “It’s open”.

Silence, as if whoever stood outside hadn’t quite made up their mind to come in yet. You yawned, scratched your head. The sound of a cane tapping on the floor filled the hall.

For a second you felt you were about to faint. Then your body sprang up, eyes wide-opened, heart pounding in your ears.

You sat down on a nearby chair facing the door. Ran a hand through your hair, straightened your clothes. You waited.

Tap. Tap. The sound of her cane brought tears to your eyes – for how you had missed it. Not so much the sound itself but the promise that came with it, seeing her, being with her. Love and happiness and everything that mattered in the world.

The tapping stopped. You raised your head. Your racing heart leaped out of your chest straight into her hands, like a fledgling that had left its nest too soon and flew back trembling and terrified to the safety of home. How stupid you had been to leave at all.

She stood in the doorway more beautiful than you remembered her, because so painfully missed, so hoped for, so loved.

She looked tired, but fine – not exhausted, not starved, not over-worked. Thank God. Some of the tension that had been building in your shoulders vanished. You searched her face for signs of emotions and truth behind her facade, but could find none. Even her eyes were inscrutable.

For a few, agonizingly long seconds you both stayed silent, glaring at each other, both of you too proud to lower your eyes or look away first. Then Wilhemina took a breath and opened her mouth, and your body leaned towards her in expectation.

“Your productivity at work this past week was astonishing,” she said.

Right. You straightened in your seat, and crossed your legs.

Wilhemina waited, but as no answer came from you she added: “Do you intend to get fired?”

“If you’ve come here to scold me, you can leave now,” you mumbled. Your hand started rubbing circles on your knee. “I’m not interested.”

Another pause. You picked a book on the coffee table and stared intently at it. The silence was painful. From the corridor came the ticking of the clock hung on the wall. You could just make out Wilhemina’s purple shoes and pale ankles out of the corner of your eye.

When the silence became intolerable, you tilted your head just enough to shoot her an angry glance and snapped: “Why are you here?”

Wilhemina tapped her cane threateningly on the floor. That didn’t faze you. Not anymore.

“I’m here,” she said in that low, slow voice she always used when she was mad, “as your superior and as Kineros Robotics’ HR manager, to remind you that you have a job and that you are expected to actually show up at your workplace.”

Was she getting enough sleep? Only now did you realize that she was leaning on her cane a bit more heavily than usual. Was her back hurting her? Did she even take her pain medicine? On several occasions before she had refused to, as a form of punishment against her disability. You had had to coax and beg for her to finally agree to swallow the pill.

“I expect you to answer me when I talk to you.” Wilhemina’s voice, sharp and angry, brought you back from your thoughts. You glanced up at her again.

“Yes, Ms Venable.”

“If you do not go back to work tomorrow I will have to dismiss you.”

“Yes, Ms Venable.”

“Your unjustified absence is quite simply intolerable.”

“Yes, Ms Venable,” you repeated.

Another pause. You had no idea what you were feeling anymore. Anger and irritation had subsided and been replaced by a sort of numbness that still had an aftertaste of want. You stared at the book, your fingers still rubbing circles on your knee as you listened to the ticking of the clock in the corridor.

Wilhemina spoke, and this time her voice wavered on the last word. “When are you coming back?”

She meant to work, of course. You lifted your head, met her eyes. She meant come home.

“I’m not coming back,” you answered, keeping your voice casual to hide the fact that your heart was breaking yet again, small pieces drifting away and colliding with each other.

“What do you want me to do?” Wilhemina cried, her eyes widening in exasperation. “Crawl at your feet and beg for mercy?”

She barely ever raised her voice. Her anger and contempt were always expressed in a dangerously slow and low tone. A high, raised voice meant she felt cornered. It meant her self-control was slipping away. It meant her facade was breaking.

You leaned towards her in your seat, hope seeping in your veins.

“How about you start by apologizing to Pat?” you said, as casually as before.

“Who’s Pat?”

“My co-worker and friend you so kindly slapped in the face last week. And to Eva, whose fingers you threatened to clip off one by one because she had the audacity to touch my hand. And to Maggie. You called her such terrible names when all she did was being there for me. Do you see the problem, Mina?”

Your little speech had made you angry again, bad memories flooding your brain, so it was a surprise when her nickname slipped out of your mouth. It seemed to quiet her for a second. Her shoulders relaxed. She even took a tentative step towards you. But then her face hardened again, and when she spoke her voice was back under control.

“I will do no such thing,” she snapped, tapping her cane on the floor. “All those idiots you mentioned had it coming.”

You sighed and slumped back into your seat. You knew what she was doing. Suddenly you were brought back to the first time she had allowed herself to be vulnerable in front of you. It had been one evening in the second week of your relationship. She had had a bad day, and her back was hurting her, and the only way she had found to express that – the only way she had known how – had been by snapping at you for overcooking the pasta. You had been about to snap back, when an apology had slipped out of her. Soft and unexpected. You had fallen silent in surprise. Her hands had started to fidget, and she had looked angry with herself, couldn’t meet your eyes, couldn’t find anything more to say, couldn’t stop fidgeting. So you had hugged her, run her a bath, made love to her, brushed her hair until most of the tension had left her body.

Snapping was her way of protecting herself, you knew that. But still – it hurt, and you had had enough.

“Well then, please, leave,” you mumbled, closing your eyes and raising one hand to pinch the bridge of your nose.

“So you can be in the delightful company of Maggie the Cat?” she snapped.

“Oh for God’s sake, Wilhemina,” you sighed, but she didn’t seem to hear you.

“Sweet, sweet Margaret,” she sneered, taking one more step towards you, her hands shaking. “With her sweet maiden face and her cheerful disposition. So charming, so lovely. She’s part of that disgusting group of radiant fools who will lead the world to its demise with their shallowness and their stupidity.”

You jumped to your feet. “Maggie is my friend,” you growled, planting yourself a few inches from her, your whole body hot with anger. “If you loved me as you claim you do, if you had an ounce of respect for me, you wouldn’t say such things about her!”

Something on her face changed at your words. You couldn’t tell what exactly, but a feeling of dread suddenly came over you.

Wilhemina tapped her cane on the floor, raised her chin and hissed, “Maybe I don’t. Love you, at all. Maybe I only used you for company.”

You took a step back, reeling as her words echoed in your head. You knew she was lying. What you two had shared had been too strong to be fake. She had trusted you with things and parts of herself she had never told or shown anyone before. She had let you love her and trusted you would not hurt her.

In a better world you would have been able to control your anger. You would have taken a few deep breaths to calm yourself and put your hands on Wilhemina’s shoulders and told her for the hundredth time what she obviously still needed to hear – that in your heart, Maggie did not hold a candle to her. That Maggie was your friend and you loved her, but not the way you loved Wilhemina. That you would go to Hell for her and beat Lucifer’s ass if it meant keeping her safe.

But this was the real world, where battered souls keep hurting each other. Anger burnt in you like a fire and filled your brain with smoke until you could no longer think. Only fight back.

“Maybe I did, too,” you snarled.

You saw her hesitate. You saw her snarky retort die on her lips as she took in your words. And for a moment it felt great. To know you could still affect her, still peel off her layers and press the pads of your fingers on bare skin. But you had only ever stroked before; never scratched.

The tap of her cane on the floor surprised you, for it sounded weaker than usual. It did not bounce off the walls but fell at her feet like a weak preemie and died.

“If you do not show up tomorrow at 8 then don’t bother coming back at all,” Wilhemina commanded. “Kineros will do just fine without you.”

She was staring at something above your left shoulder, and she was breathing too fast, as if she were trying very hard not to cry. When she felt your gaze on her face she briefly shifted her eyes to yours. She blinked, and a tear rolled down her cheek.

“Mina,” you started, taking a step towards her. She raised one hand to stop you.

“That will be all,” she said, and wiped the tear away.

You let her turn on her heel, walk down the corridor and close the front door behind her. You stood as if petrified in the middle of Maggie’s living room, until something in you broke. You grabbed the book on the coffee table, hurled it at the wall, and screamed.

When Maggie came home that evening, she walked into your room with a moody, “What happened to Virginia Woolf?” She waved the battered book at you until you turned and she saw your face.

“Oh, babydoll, what’s wrong?”

She held you as you sobbed and wailed. She stroked your hair and whispered sweet-nothings to calm you down. It only made you cry harder, for it reminded you of all the times Wilhemina had comforted you. How she, too, had held you close and tried to find the right words to stop your tears. But Maggie was taller and stouter. Her body did not fit yours as Wilhemina’s did. When you eventually took a long breath in through your nose, her perfume smelt wrong. Too sweet, too floral.

You didn’t show up at 8 at Kineros the day after. It had been hard to care before, now it was simply impossible. You stayed in bed, wishing you could disappear into the sheets. You ignored Maggie’s encouragements and reproaches. You didn’t care.

Maggie brought you water and food, which you nibbled at mechanically. Time passed. You dozed often, but never slept.

Time kept on passing. You waited. You weren’t quite sure for what.

On the third day your phone rang. You reached out for it, and accepted the call without looking at the screen.

“Hello?” you mumbled, your voice raspy from disuse.

“Oh, Y/N?” said a familiar voice. “I thought you were dead.”

“Jeff.” You closed your eyes. “Look,” you started, “I know I haven’t – “

“What have you done to Venable?” Jeff cut you off.

Your eyes opened. “What do you mean?” you asked, your grip on your phone tightening.

“She hasn’t shown up for the past three days.” There was a loud noise at the other end of the line, then Jeff’s voice again. “Last week she was even more bitchy than usual, and now she’s gone. I don’t know where the file I need is, I missed all of my appointments and what’s worse, we’ve run out of coke. I can’t be a genius if I’m not high. Y/N?”

You barely heard him call your name. You could barely breathe from fear.

“Y/N, you still here?”

“Yeah, I –“ You swallowed around the lump in your throat.“Are you sure she’s not at Kineros?”

“I’m at Kineros, Y/N, and Venable isn’t,” Jeff answered, annoyed. “Look, I don’t know what your problem is, but I won’t let your sapphic affairs ruin my company.”

“I – “You stood up on shaky legs. You had to move, you had to do something to keep the panic at bay. It wasn’t like Wilhemina to miss work. She’d rather die than shun her responsibilities. And three days in a row? Something must have happened to her. Your brain started making up all kinds of dreadful scenarios in which she had been hurt, hit by a car, abducted, in which she had locked herself up in her room without food or water, jumped from a bridge, bought a plane ticket to some faraway country where you would never find her.

“Y/N?” came Jeff’s voice, interrupting the mad race of your thoughts.

“Yes, I – “You forced yourself to take a deep breath. “Venable isn’t my responsibility,” you heard yourself say.

“Look, Y/N,” Jeff retorted, his voice growing angry. “You’re expendable, Venable is not. We need her. I don’t care what you do, but you better make sure she comes back tomorrow.” And with that he hung up.

For a few seconds you stood petrified with your phone still pressed against your ear. And then you jumped into action. You dressed, grabbed your handbag, flew down the stairs and in your haste nearly collided with the door of your car. You forced yourself to drive under the speed limit on your way to your house. Dying wouldn’t help.

Part of you realized that it felt good. The life pumping into your veins again. You felt like you had finally woken up.

You parked on the sidewalk in front of your house, too impatient to maneuver your car up the driveway. You ran to the door and knocked on it. You closed your eyes as you waited, panting. You sent a prayer to whomever you could think of – please let her be okay. You didn’t care how mad you were with her anymore. Just, let her be okay.

The door opened. You looked up.

Wilhemina was wearing an old, faded lilac sweater and a pair of black cotton shorts. Her hair was down. She had no make-up on. When her eyes met yours, her face didn’t harden or fall or change at all; she merely held your gaze, as if she were too tired or too numb to react.

“You’re here,” you breathed out in relief. You could have burst into tears of joy at the sight of her alive and safe.

“I only own one house,” she said dully.

“Right, of course, I know.” You scratched your head nervously. “Er, Jeff called. He’s, er, worried about you.”

Wilhemina watched you unblinkingly. You shifted your weight from one foot to the other. It was all you could do to stop yourself from collapsing into her arms and kiss her senseless.

“He said you haven’t been to work for three days,” you tried.

“And why,” she said, “do you care?” There was no trace of animosity in her voice. In fact, there was nothing at all. No emotion. No life.

“He asked me to come check on you.”

Shit. You could have slapped yourself. Wilhemina’s face did harden, then, and she made as if to close the door, but before she had time to you cried out: “No, wait, that came out wrong. Please.” You held up a hand. Wilhemina waited. “He told me you hadn’t shown up in days, and I got worried. That’s why I came. Not because he asked me to.”

She watched you for a few seconds more, then lowered her gaze. Her left hand came up to fidget with the hem of her shorts. She looked so small in those clothes, so young and so fragile. Tears stung your eyes. You blinked them back.

“Can I come in?” you tried.

Her eyes met yours. Please, you begged her in your head. Please, let me in. Please, give us this chance to make it right. Your heart was beating so fast it was starting to hurt.

Eternity passed before she finally – oh what bliss! – stepped aside to let you in. You brushed past her, got a whiff of her perfume mixed with the faint smell of sweat. She ran a hand through her hair nervously, leaning slightly away from you to close the door.

The house was exactly as you had left it, and yet it looked so different. Quieter, somehow, and a bit battered, as if it had just come back from the battlefield to rest and mourn its departed friends. Your footsteps echoed loudly down the corridor as you walked to the living room. You took off your shoes and shoved them in a corner. To make a point. That you didn’t mean to leave until you had talked things through.

Wilhemina stopped in the doorway and waited.

“Um, thank you,” you mumbled. “For letting me in.” As if it weren’t your house, too. But that wasn’t the point.

Wilhemina nodded. Silence fell. You looked around the room nervously, at a loss for words.

“Are you okay?” you finally blurted out. Wilhemina glared at you. “Right. Sorry, stupid question.” You swallowed hard. “Have you, um, have you eaten? I could make something.”

“Who am I to stop you?” Wilhemina answered flatly. “We both know how you need to keep yourself busy when you’re nervous.”

“It’s not about me,” you countered. “I was wondering when you last ate, that’s all.”

She held your gaze for a few more seconds, then proceeded to walk around the room to rearrange things – a candle on a shelf, the cushions on the couch, anything. You watched her, noticed the slight shaking of her hand, how tightly she was gripping her cane. Her hair fell over her eyes as she leaned forward. She briskly pushed it back.

When there was nothing left for her to tidy, she sat on the couch and opened a book.

You stared at her profile, your hands twitching at your sides. Wanting nothing more than to reach out. Sit by her side. Hold her close. Sink into her warmth.

You cleared your throat, and went into the kitchen.

It did help, having something to do with your hands. It relieved some of the ache in your chest. You were too preoccupied to be creative, so you settled on frozen Yangzhou fried rice and an endive salad. Substantial, but easy to eat. In case she was feeling as nauseous as you were.

You were cutting the endives when you heard Wilhemina call from the other room. “I’m going to take a shower.”

“Alright,” you called back, trying to catch a glimpse of her through the door. “It’ll be ready in twenty minutes.”

You listened to the sound of running water as the rice thawed out. Thought of the right words to say. Part of you wanted to forgive her without further ado and pretend nothing had happened. But that would only buy you more time. Until the next insult, the next fight. Anger swelled in you like a wave as you remembered Pat’s perplexed face, lifting a hand to his cheek where Wilhemina had hit him. His own outburst, “What the hell is wrong with her?!”, Wilhemina’s cold, unreadable expression. The fear in her voice when you had slammed the door behind you.

You closed your eyes and sighed. The only way you could think of to make things right was to have Wilhemina truly, fully open up to you. Convince her that sharing her fears with you would be better than lashing out on other people. Make her realize, and trust, that there was nothing you wanted in the world more than a future with her.

You turned off the heat under the rice and sat at the table as you waited for Wilhemina. Half an hour had passed since she had disappeared in the bathroom. She loved to take long showers, but she hated being late even more. You had told her she had twenty minutes; any other day, she would have made sure to be ready in fifteen.

You waited ten more minutes before you started to get truly worried. You walked to the foot of the stairs and called out her name. There was no answer. You called out again, louder. Silence mocked you.

You hurried up the stairs, your heart in your throat, and knocked on the bathroom door. “Mina? Are you alright?”

And still there was no answer. And you were starting to grow angry again, at her silence, at her shunning you, when you heard it. Faint and muffled, but unmistakable. A sob.

You opened the door and rushed into the room.

Wilhemina was sitting on the floor with her back against the tub and her face hidden in her hands. Her wet hair was dripping on her lap, soaking the purple bathrobe she was wearing. She must have dropped her cane, for it lay on the floor under the sink a few feet from her.

You rushed up to her and dropped on your knees.

“Baby,” you called, reaching for one of her wrists, “what happened? Are you hurt?”

You tried to gently pry her hands away to get a look at her face, but she didn’t let you. If anything, she stiffened and buried her face deeper in her hands.

Her shoulders shook as she tried to stifle the low, painful sobs that wracked her frail body. You gently brushed her hair back as you waited for her to calm down, not daring to wrap your arms around her, but dying to offer her comfort.

Eventually her sobs turned into sniffles and soft hiccups, and you asked her again what had happened.

“I dropped my cane,” came her answer, weak and muffled. “As I was getting out of the tub.” A shudder ran through her.

“I’m sorry,” she went on. “This…” She lifted one of her hands, then, to gesture at her body, and you caught a glimpse of her face, red and coated with tears. “You deserve so much better than this. Please, go back to Maggie.”

You blinked at her words, at the pain and anguish they expressed. How had it come so far? How blind had you been? Not to realize how insecure she was, how convinced she was she could never be enough. To the point that she had agreed with herself to let you go.

You shook your head sadly. “But Maggie’s not the one I want.”

She let out a small, pitiful noise at that, and dissolved into tears again. This time, you didn’t think. You scooted over and gathered her into your arms. She sank into you, her hands coming down to clutch your shirt, her face pressing against your chest. There was no restraint anymore. No trying to stifle her sobs or hold back her tears. She let it all out, sobs shaking her body as she sank deeper and deeper into you, as if she were desperate to make one, to leave herself behind and become part of you.

Her sobs grew louder, and she seemed to have lost all control on her breathing, a gasp in and out and out again without inhaling. She was working herself up in quite a state, so you did the only thing you could think of to help her calm down. You tipped her head up. Captured her lips with yours.

Her mouth was wet and hot and salty, but you didn’t care. You wanted so much more of it. It tasted like home, and love, and safety. You had missed it so much, kissing her, feeling her. Your hands came up to cup her face, fingers pressing on her drenched cheeks as you pulled her closer, humming softy into the kiss.

It did quiet her. Her breath hitched, her shoulders tensed, but then she was kissing you back fervently, as if her life depended on it. Maybe it did. You didn’t know anymore. You were only aware of the sweet warmth of relief coursing through your veins and making your head spin. And of something else, something that ached and throbbed – want. It frightened you, this level of want. Your whole body was burning and tingling with it. It wasn’t so much lust as merely wanting to hold her. To feel her again. Love her freely and endlessly.

Again it hit you how stupid you had been to think you could ever live without her.

When you broke the kiss for air, she let out a whine and immediately chased after you. She was still crying, hiccups rippling into your mouth, drenched skin rubbing against yours. She circled her arms around your neck and bit down on your lower lip, hard, as if to mark you hers. A vampire bite, to contaminate your blood with hers and make sure you and she were the same.

After a while she broke the kiss and slumped into you. She was practically sitting on you now, arms tight around your neck, face buried in your chest, hip digging into your lap. You ran a hand through her hair as you rubbed circles on her back, humming a soft lullaby as a few last tremors shook her body.

It had started to rain outside. You suddenly became aware of the patter on the roof. You leaned your head on top of Wilhemina’s and closed your eyes.

“I didn’t mean it, you know,” came her voice, raspy but soft. “What I said the other day. I do love you.”

You hummed, dropped a kiss on her hair. “I know.” A pause. “I love you, too. Of course I love you.”

She let out a shaky breath, then sat up. Her eyes were red and puffy from crying. You leaned in to kiss her burning eyelids. You kissed her forehead, a magic kiss, to soothe the throbbing in her head.

She met your gaze, bit her lip. You gave her a smile.

“Come on, get up,” you urged.

You waited for her in the living room as she cleaned her face, dried her hair and dressed. She put on the pajama set she always wore when she wasn’t feeling confident: baggy pants and a shirt that was too big for her. It didn’t cling to her body. It hid her body completely from view.

You managed to convince her to eat some of the rice. You ate in silence, watching her as she chewed and swallowed. She was sitting perfectly straight in her chair, head held high, eyes on her plate. When she was done, she delicately dabbed her mouth with her napkin, which she then folded on the table.

You waited. She stared at her empty plate for a moment, and then frowned.

“Look,” she finally said, “this is hard for me. I don’t know where to start.”

You nodded. “I know. That’s alright. Take your time.”

“I don’t usually… talk – “Her voice faltered. She glanced up at you, eyes dark and still rimmed red. You smiled in encouragement.

“Your friends,” she went on. Paused. As no other words came out, you got up from your seat, kneeled in front of her, and reached for one of her hands.

“I don’t hate them,” she said very quietly, staring down at her plate.

You couldn’t help but scoff. “You have a very peculiar way of showing it.”

Her lower lip quivered and her brow pushed up as if she were about to start crying again. You gave her hand a squeeze.

“Hey, none of that. Talk to me. What really bothers you about my friends?”

She squeezed her eyes shut, swallowed hard. You waited. When she opened her eyes again, they were shining with tears.

“I – “She shook her head, let out a sad laugh. “I don’t – “Her voice cracked. Her eyes met yours. “Please don’t – “

“It’s okay,” you whispered, bringing your free hand up to cup her cheek. ”I’m staying. I’m listening.”

A tear dropped from her eye, crashed between your thumb and index; and then she inhaled shakily and it all came out of her at once, words stumbling out like a panicked mob out of a room on fire.

“I’m afraid you’ll find someone better than me. All those kind, healthy people, I’m afraid you’ll truly see them one day and realize you could have so much better, so much more.” A breath out, as her face crumpled. “I don’t – I can’t – “A sob pushed out of her throat, and her breath hitched, and when she tried to inhale again she let out a noise as if she were choking. “I don’t – I don’t think I can ever be – be enough for –”

“Okay, you’re okay,” you cooed as her breathing grew frantic. “Mina, you’re okay.” She shook her head, her body slumping as fresh sobs tore their way out of her throat. “Hey,” you breathed, blinking back your own tears. You let go of her hand to cup her face.

Her cheeks were burning. You ran your thumbs over her cheekbones, catching her tears as they fell.

“Mina, I know you’re hurting,” you whispered. Your voice broke. You cleared your throat. “Baby, I want to be here for you.”

She nodded, hiccupping as she tried to wrestle her emotions back under control. One of her hands came up to wipe sloppily at her nose.

“Let’s move to the couch, ok?” you suggested. “Let’s get you comfortable.”

She didn’t let go of your hand on the very short way to the couch, her palm clammy against yours. She always did that, always had to be touching you: her ankle pressed against yours, her hand resting on your arm or on your waist, her shoulder brushing yours.

You sat down, and she hesitated before she snuggled up to you. She rested her head on your shoulder and reached for one of your hands in your lap.

There was a quiet moment, silence only broken by Wilhemina’s sniffles, and then you shook your head and teased, “What am I going to do with you?”

You felt her stiffen against you. “Because it’s such hard work and you never do a stroke of work,” she snapped.

“Mina,” you warned.

“Sorry,” she said quickly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.”

You dropped a kiss on her head. “Okay.”

You wrapped one arm around her shoulders and drew her closer. Automatically your hand started playing with her hair.

“You know,” you went on, “it’d have been easier if you had just told me how you felt instead of taking it out on my friends.”

“I know,” she whispered.

“I’ll tell you what we’ll do. From now on, you be honest with me. Whenever the bad thoughts come, whenever you feel like you could never be enough, you tell me. It doesn’t have to be with words, if that’s hard for you. We can decide on a code. Like this,” you poked her hip, and she jumped and let out a chuckle,” or this,” you leaned in, blew raspberries on her shoulder, “or this,” you stuck out your tongue and licked her cheek.

“You’re gross,” she laughed. She raised one hand to keep your face away from hers, but you dodged it and gently blew into her ear.

“Y/N.” She had meant to sound firm, but laughter rang in her voice.

“I’m sorry, was that supposed to be a threat?” you teased.

“I think the real question is, what am I supposed to do with you.”

“Um.” You pretended to think that through.”Love me.” A kiss on her shoulder. “I think love me is good.”

She looked up at you with a wistful look in her eyes. Her hand came up to touch your cheek. She smiled, soft and tender and fond, the smile she only ever gave to you. “Love you is good,” she whispered.

Her eyes flicked down to your mouth. You leaned in to kiss her, pouring tenderness into her mouth. When you pulled away, she let out a soft sigh as if she were about to fall asleep.

She rested her head on your shoulder again and closed her eyes.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“It’s alright,” you whispered back.

It still rained outside. You listened to the patter on the roof. Leaned your head on top of Wilhemina’s.

She fit so snuggly against you. She made you feel entirely safe, entirely you. You drank from her warmth the solace you had not been able to find in the peach-scented sheets or in Maggie’s reassurances and embrace.

After a while, you felt her nudge her nose on your shoulder. She drew a shaky breath, and asked, “So you’re not leaving?”

Your heart clenched at the vulnerability and fear in her voice.

“Um, no,” you answered. “I’m giving you a second chance.” A kiss on her forehead. “How long I’ll stay is entirely up to you. And Mina, please believe me when I say I hope you’ll give me reasons to stay forever.”

“I’m not sure I’ll be content with forever,” she said.

You rolled your eyes. “Of course you’re not.”

She shifted against you, moved her head to plant a lazy kiss on your neck, draped one arm loosely around you. Her hand slipped under your shirt and she dragged her nails on your skin, across your belly, down the curve of your waist.

And then you felt it. A poke, on your left hip. Like a question.

You grinned. “Just like that, my love.”

#ahs #ahs imagines #sarah paulson #sarah paulson x reader #wilhemina venable #wilhemina venable x reader #fics

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tastyykpop · 4 years ago

Text

𝑆𝑤𝑒𝑒𝑡 𝐶𝑜𝑟𝑟𝑢𝑝𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛

•pairings: enemy, barista and student!jaemin x student and barista!reader

♡𝑠𝑚𝑢𝑡♡

<next>

•warnings: dom!jaemin, brat!reader, brat taming, crying kink, hair pulling, choking, small praising, small size kink, degradation (slut, whore), dumbification (sexual and non sexual use) nanas kinda mean :( but gets a lil nicer :), jaemin refers to himself as nana a lot mostly when they do the dirty, bulging kink, pet names (princess, baby, baby girl, little girl, pretty girl), unprotected sex (please be safe), slight face slapping (he slaps her once), rough sex clearly, some sexual tension, I hope i got everything

You were fuming!

The boy in front of you not even batting an eyelash, just laughing at the mess dripping down your face.

You smelt like an iced americano.

People around you held their hands to their mouths in shock and others tried to hold back their laughter. Some even pointed at you or gave sympathetic looks.

It wasnt like people were surprised anymore. Jaemin always had something up his sleeve for you. But he never went as far as pouring his coffee on you.

"Aw poor baby. Do you need a napkin?" He faked sympathy with a pout and his friends began laughing. You just got up and walk by them, making sure to bump into jaemins shoulder on your way through.

It was almost everyday that Jaemin would do something so uncalled for. It was like he was made to push your buttons. Even as you're walking out of the college building, you can still hear the boy laughing at you. Or maybe it was the other students. Either way, you wanted to kill him.

As you trudged towards your car, a sense of relief washed over you. A great happiness that only comes when you finished your classes and could go home. Only this happiness stayed for a good 2 hours until you have to go to your part time job at the cafe with your favorite person of course. But its not like you can quit. You need the money so you can live and get the education you need, no matter how hard it is being with him.

It was then when you sat in your car and the squishing in the seat made your face curl into a scowl, only made you think of ways to get away with murder. It was gross really. The seats were sticky, plus your hair and clothes were sticking to you like lip gloss. A shower would be perfect right about now.

"Hi y- oh..." Your roommate, jimin, stared at your messy state. Giving you a good up and down before shrugging his shoulders, "jaemin?"

You sighed, walking over to the kitchen to grab a bottle of water, "Who else? Its always him."

Jimin gave you a small smile and came closer as if ready to hug you but didn't because he didn't want to get sticky. "You know, maybe you should quit that job."

"No."

He groaned and snatched the water that you were about to sip, "Why? You'd only see jaemin in school. And you wouldnt have to stick with his bickering in work." He huffed, shaking his head, "Girls are so difficult sometimes."

You tried leaping up to grab the bottle from jimin, but all he did was hold it above his head. You stomped on his foot in return. Jimin huddled over and you snatched the bottle, smirking with victory as you put it to your lips.

"You fucking snake." Jimin hissed in pain.

A laugh fell from your lips as you walked by him, completely ignoring his words and his pain, "Im gonna take a shower."

Once you got to your room, the first thing you did was grab your work clothes, a towel, and underwear and got ready for the warm shower.

After you switched on the water and let it heat up, you stepped in and immediately felt at peace as the water cascaded over your body, cleaning off the almost dried coffee. Your hair felt lighter, like a feather and your fingers could now slip through the strands easily without an issue. The scent of your body wash overpowered the coffee smell and you felt much better. Water, soap, and coffee were beginning to fill the drain as you finished washing up. You rolled your eyes at the sight of the murky water. What a bastard.

For once you were actually happy to wear your work clothes after what had happened earlier. The clothes actually felt comfortable and jimin was becoming more and more confused as to why you were hugging yourself with a huge smile on the couch.

"No one should be that happy after a shower." He started flipping through channels on the t.v.

"Dont tell me how to feel, I dont smell like jaemins coffee anymore." You gushed overdramtically. Jimin could only role his eyes.

"Please...you act like he's a demon of some sort."

You squinted your eyes at jimin and flared your nostrils, "he is. Hes a nasty, dumb, annoying, self centered-"

"Okay okay I get it! You hate jaemin! The funny thing is you can never get his name out of your mouth." Everything stopped and your head snapped in jimins directions.

"What are you saying?" A frown found itself on your face, jimin leaned closer.

"Im saying that maybe you might like him."

You shrieked in disgust, blocking your ears with your hands. Jimin laughed at your reaction. Almost falling off the couch in the process. "Ew! Gross! Why would you even think that!"

"Like I said, you can never get his name out of your mouth. I think its pretty obvious you like him." He was still giggling at you except your face was anything but happy, more grossed out at how he thought you could like such a person

"I can't stand you. I'm leaving for work." You stood up and jimin did nothing to stop you from going. Even though you still had about 15 minutes until you normally leave. "Ill be back at 9." The door slammed behind you, leaving jimin alone with another laughing fit.

You got in the car and drove off to your work, still trying to come up with a reason as to why jimin is saying all this. Sure maybe you talk about jaemin a little lot but that doesn't mean you like him. Its very much the opposite and jimin should know that. It only frustrates you the more you think about it. Liking someone like jaemin? Please. That would be your nightmare.

As you pulled up to the cafe, there were only a few other cars parked. Few were from other workers but the majority were most like customers or people just trying to get a free parking space. Lucky for you, there were many open spaces, unlike when you come later and they're filled. Maybe leaving earlier wasnt such a bad idea. It saved you the 3 minute walk.

"Y/n! You're just on time!" One of your coworkers, irene, called out as you stepped inside the shop. "We need help back here!" You had no time to even begin to say your shift hasn't started yet when irene took you by the hand and dragged you to where the coffee was being made. "We have a bunch of online orders coming in so can you please help us with the coffee and food?" She tossed you a brown apron for you to put on and you nodded, trying to get your brain to speed up with everything in the world.

It was so quiet when you walked in that you never even realized that the back was busy. Coffee cups were filled and put into trays for orders, food was being heated or baked. It was a chaotic place right now and all you could do was help. So as fast as you could, you began with the first order on the screen. A large mocha with extra extra sugar, whipped cream, and chocolate curls. Easy enough you thought as you reached for a cup but a hand beat you to it.

Your eyes looked up at the person in front of you and just when you thought everything was going fine, it wasn't, "What are you doing here so early?" You asked bitterly.

"I always come in early. What are you doing here so early?" Jaemin asked whilst holding a death grip on the cup.

"Just felt like coming early." You muttered, watching as jaemin turned away with a scoff, quickly cutting the conversation short. "Bastard."

Jaemin was busy making what you were originally going to do, so you looked for another order to get ready. It was just two cake pops and a small strawberry banana smoothie. Something you've been craving recently from the lack of sweetness and fruit in your day to day life.

The cake pops and smoothie were quick to make and were soon sent off to the customer. You happily beamed and wished them good day once they left.

After then there was a familiar face with a friend right next to him, he was quite handsome you must say. He was indeed so handsome that he just looked unreal. "Hey jimin. Whose this?" You nodded towards the bright black haired man.

"This is taemin! He wanted some coffee so I brought him- hey stop staring at him!" Jimin snapped you out of your trance and taemin chuckled.

"Its okay shes cute." He eye smiled, showing off his perfectly white teeth. He's definitely not real.

Jimin tsk'd, "Until you get to know her."

"Yeah yeah... whatever." You smiled at him, completely oblivious to what he just said.

They both ordered and took a seat next to the window. You were still staring at taemin with your head in your hand until someone tapped your shoulder, "Who are they?" Jaemins voice rang in your ears, making you stand up straight.

"Thats my roommate, jimin, and his friend taemin." You glanced back at the boys, mainly at taemin and just stared like he was your first crush.

"Quit staring your gonna scare him away." Jaemin said earning himself a chuckle from you.

You stuck your tongue out, "He called me cute."

The boy smirked from ear to ear and leaned in close to your face, "He was lying." You grumbled and pushed him away from you, getting annoyed by his presence very quickly.

"Jaemin and y/n, get back to work we have orders to do!" Irene called out. Both of you quickly returning to your stations and getting things ready.

"Look at him. Hes basically waiting for me to come over to him." Seulgi, another person in this school you dispise, said as she looked at jaemin in the back of the room. She wasn't very quiet either considering you were only a few seats away from him. So it only meant that jaemin could hear her, but chose to ignore it. Typical boy.

"Honestly. He looks so good today too." Sana, her best friend, commented.

"Oh and did you hear what he was planning on doing today to y/n? Apparently he's gonna-"

"Class get back in your seats, we have much to discuss." The professor stood in the front of the class. Everyone shifted and moved to their appropriate places and waited for the teacher to begin. Unlike you, who was wondering what seulgi was going to say next. If its something worse than coffee being poured on your head, you may just have to bury yourself six feet under after this.

As you were taking notes something flung towards your head and hit you on the side, looking over was jaemin with a smirk was he held his fingers in a sling shot shape. A rubber band was laying on your lap. Then another one. One even hit your cheek creating a small smack sound as you winced in pain. Oh you desperately wanted to get out of this seat and punch the boy in the face.

"Excuse me sir!" You called out, raising your head. The whole class looked at you and your cheeks began to heat up. "May i go to the restroom?" The professor nodded and you headed out. Not until you stopped in your tracks from a loud smack to your butt, causing the whole class to turn around again.

Jaemin was enjoying this, the way you stared at him with wide eyes and open mouth, made him just want to do it again. He never thought this reaction from you would be so entertaining and he tried his best not show it, with only a small smirk covering his face.

You rushed out of the room, faster than ever and leaned against the nearest surface you could find. Not only were you questioning reality, but also why jaemin just did that.

"That little bitch." You said to yourself as you paced back and forth in the hallway, staring at the ground.

"Excuse me?" Jaemin voice rang in your ears as you looked up with a angry red face. Steam was even coming out of your ears and nose. "Did you just call nana a bitch?" He put his hands to his chest and pouted, "Little girl you need to learn some manners." Jaemin tilted his head to the side and began walking forward.

"Shut up." You had nothing else to say as you grit your teeth, looking at the ground.

Jaemin didnt like that and grabbed the back of your neck to make you look at him, "What? Did your stupid head stop thinking? Your normally so chatty for nana what happened?"

"Jaemin i-" you cut yourself off as you felt jaemin grip the back of your neck tighter causing you to moan in pain.

"Stupid girl." Jaemin whispered, forcefully pushing you away. It was not strong enough to make you fall but at least stumble.

You glowered, earning yourself a chuckle from him. "What will it take for you to leave me alone!?"

"Bring this to table 15 please! Thanks!" Irene smiled as she handed you a small cup of iced coffee and you took it, taking it to its designated place. What you didn't except was to see taemin again, gleaming up at you.

"Hi y/n." He smiled and you tried to remain calm.

God how is someone so beautiful?

"Hey, I didnt except you to come back." You returned the warm smile and started to play with the apron around your waist.

Taemin giggled, "I actually quite like this place, its cozy." He began to take a sip from the straw, eyes still trained on you. If only you weren't so awkward with him, you wouldve found something to say other than staring at him and indulging in the beauty before you. But lucky for you someone behind the counter called for you, quickly averting your attention back to work.

The next order was a shake, so you grabbed the correct ingredients and began using the blendor, when someone came next to you, doing the same thing "You seem like your having fun flirting around." The unwanted conversation with jaemin began, "makes nana kind of jealous."

"Hm funny." You ignored him and continued blending the ice cream.

Jaemin casually rolled his eyes and glanced down at your nonchalant face before returning back to the blender, "you know you really do piss me off."

You sneered and snickered to yourself, "what are you gonna do about it?"

"I was thinking of fucking you dumb or until you know your place but maybe thats a bit too rewarding."

The cup was removed and set aside from the blender with your hands placed on your hips, "Im sorry what?"

"Did I stutter?" Jaemin raised an eyebrow and also put the cup down. You went silent, not knowing whether or not to just laugh it off or quickly run away. "And I'm still waiting on my apology."

"One, I am not going to apologize to your bitchy ass. Two, even if I did let you, you could never 'fuck me dumb', it just wouldn't happen. Now stop trying to get in my pants."

Jaemin opened then closed his mouth about to say something, but didn't and just put on a sweet smile, "Go take these to table 7 for nana." He said like he was testing yoj.

"Why? You made them."

"Nana told you to do something little girl, now do it." Jaemins sweet smile was still plastered on his face yet it intimidated you enough to do as he said.

Taemin was long gone when you walked out and you were kind of sad as you weren't able to say goodbye before he left. You placed the shake down on the table and was ready to walk away when you heard your name being called.

"Y/n? You work here?" Seulgis voice spoke as you turned around. Both her and sana were looking at you with shit eating grins.

"Doesn't jaemin also work here seulgi?" Sana asked the girl in front of her and seulgi looked as if she got the brightest idea.

"Oh yeah! Y/n can you get jaemin over here? Pretty please?" She asked sweetly yet with a hint of sourness and you listened, not feeling like ignoring her at the moment.

You told jaemin that seulgi and sana were out front looking for him and he nonchalantly went out without question. Leaving you to do some of the work alone, which you didn't mind considering its jaemin, the annoying bastard who won't leave you alone, but he does help you whenever you need it. And right now, it was a bit busy, and you needed it.

After doing 4 more online orders and sending them off through the driveway, jaemin finally came back with a scowl on his face looking ready to beat someone up. "What the hell is wrong with you!?" He raised his voice only loud enough for you to hear. But you were quite confused on what was happening.

"What are you talking about?" You asked, tilting your head to the side like a puppy.

Jaemin groaned, "I knew you were fucking dumb but come on y/n! Why is seulgi covered in the shake i gave you?"

You paused for a moment, unable to answer that. Is he assuming you spilt her shake on her? Why would you even do that in the first place. Yeah you don't like her, but you're not going to stoop to her or his level. "I dont know."

He slammed his hand on the wall near your head, startling you a bit, "You dont know huh?" You shook your head slowly. "Seulgi and sana both said you purposefully spilt the shake on seulgi. Now answer me honestly. Is that true?" You shook your head again, feeling really small and helpless under his strong gaze.

"I-i didnt spill t-the skake." You muttered quietly.

He inhaled sharply, "Then who did huh? Or maybe you don't know because you're so dumb."

"S-stop..." you frowned, looking down at floor, but jaemin had other plans and made you look up at him. A single tear slide down your cheek and you swear you saw a small grin appear on his face.

"Tell nana what happened." His voice became softer as he swiped away the stray tear on your face.

You huffed, still afraid that he'd do something to you although you knew he wouldnt purposely cause you pain. "W-well she asked me to go get you, which I did, a-and her shake was perfectly fine when I left."

"Are you saying she purposely spilt the shake on herself to make me angry at you?"

"Y-yes."

"Ill believe my little girl for now, but if I find out you are lying, you will be in big trouble got that?" Jaemin lifted his hand off the wall and proceeded to walk back out of the room. Leaving you shocked at his words and still frightened by an angry jaemin.

You went to the cash register once jaemin left to get ready to count the bills until you heard jaemin and seulgi arguing. Lucky for them, no one but you and him were working right now. Irene went home earlier and the normal crew always leave around 6:30, leaving just you and jaemin.

"It was only a prank nana. No need to get so worked up. And besides you didn't even prank her today, be glad I did for you." Seulgi said smiling at the boy in front of her.

Jaemin physically cringed when he heard his nickname roll off her tongue, "you didn't have to do that."

You stood there watching, astonished how jaemin was standing up for you. Hes supposed to hate you. Jaemin didn't even bother going with the girls when they offered him a ride, instead he stayed with you and even helped close. Something he normally doesn't do because he leaves before you and gives you all the hard things to do.

"Hurry up and finish." Jaemin spoke. A little bit of anger still laced in his voice.

"Whats your rush?"

He sighed, "I wanna go home. Plus I can't stand this place right now. I'm pissed."

You finished wiping down that last table and walked over to him, "Just go home then."

"Not without you."

You gave him a dirty look, "im not going home with you."

Jaemin leaned down, his face only inches from yours and whispered, "Remember what I said earlier hm? I wanna fuck you dumb." He then grabbed your waist bringing you closer to him, if that was possible, "Can I do that pretty girl? Can nana fuck you so hard you won't even remember anything but my cock?" You were so lost in your mind that everything became a blur. Jaemins words sounded so sweet but were so lewd. And you were so close to kissing him until he put his finger on your lips, "But you have to wait." You frowned and were only getting more angry by the second. You went from not wanting anything to do with jaemin to just about ready to beg him to kiss you. Was it that easy for him to get in your head? Or were you so sex deprived that now jaemin seemed somewhat interesting?

You laid on jaemins bed getting bored with the constant teasing. He never did anything but that. Jaemin would get close to your lips and back away as you chased him. Hed chuckle and coo at you for being so desperate. But that wasn't the point of all the teasing. He really just wanted you to beg him to kiss you. No words will come out of his mouth telling you to beg, he just excepted it to happen sooner or later. But youre too stubborn to do so, so you grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him down to kiss him, catching him by surprise.

Jaemins hands gripped your wrists and pulled them off his face, pinning them to the bed, "You didnt even ask to kiss me." Jaemin pulled away, raising his eyebrow high, "Dont you think thats a bit mean."

"So was teasing me, but I let you continue." You huffed, trying to free your wrists from his death grip but it was no use.

"You dont have a say on whether i continue or not. I'm in charge here and you take what I give you, understand?" You rolled your eyes. It was your intention to make jaemin angry. You wanted to push his buttons.

What you didnt know was that not answering jaemin correctly would earn you a slap to the face. And jaemin was not even fazed by it.

"Dont roll your eyes and answer nana." Jaemin smiled. "Can you say 'yes nana'?"

"Y-yes nana."

"Good girl." Jaemin muttered and began slowly kissing your jawline down to your neck, sucking here and there creating shades of purple and red marks. Oh how he loved the marks he was leaving.

You so desperately wanted to grip onto jaemins hair and pull it but he never budged his hands, only tightening his grasps. As he continued attacking your neck, you began to lift your hips up to get some sort friction. Jaemin noticed and shifted so that his thigh was in between your legs and rubbing against your clothed core. A spew of quiet moans left your lips but you wanted more. Jaemin was going to soft and slow for your liking.

"I thought you were going to fuck me dumb?" You said and jaemin lifted his head to give you a quick kiss on the lips.

"Patience baby. You aren't ready yet." He let go of your wrists and took your shirt off. The cold air made you shiver and jaemin chuckled. "I wanna make you cum at least 2 times before I fuck you."

"Then stop talking and do it." You replied, pushing your hips up to rub against his thigh, but they were pushed back down on the bed.

"Didnt I say to take what I give you?" Your head slowly moved up and down and jaemin smiled, "so why arent you happy with what nana gives you?"

"I want more..." you sighed as he started to slide your pants and panties off, discarding them somewhere in the room. His mouth slowly started kissing your inner thighs and you could feel your heat dripping with anticipation. You whined for more but only got a slap to the thigh telling you to be quiet. Needless to say you didn't listen and continued to try to get him closer to where you needed him most but pulling his hair.

Jaemin groaned grabbing your wrist again and pushed it away roughly. His patience was wearing out. You were more stubborn than he thought, but that doesn't mean he can't still break you. "Next time you do that, I'll flip you over and beat your ass till its purple." Your breath hitched and as much as you were tempted, you wanted to be able to sit for a few days so you stayed put and kept your hands to yourself.

But the desperation was getting to you and you wanted relief which jaemin wasnt giving you until you felt his two fingers circling around your clit. "P-please jaemin." You moaned as he flicked your clit with his middle finger. Then soon enough he stuck two fingers inside you. Your pussy automatically clenching around his digits as he moved at a steady in and out pace.

It felt so good. His fingers felt so good. They made your body twist in pleasure as more moans left your mouth. Jaemin was watching your face closely as it contorted with pleasure. He loved seeing your eyebrows bunched together, so focused on the way his fingers worked inside you.

"My pretty slut. Taking nanas fingers so well." He gushed, still watching your face. Jaemin could feel himself get even more painfully hard but he didn't want to fuck you just yet. He meant it when he said he wanted you to cum 2 times. So he picked up the speed with his fingers, your hands landing on his forearm that was resting on near your hip. "Are you gonna cum for nana princess?"

You frantically nodded your head as a wave of pleasure washed over you. You could feel your cum leak out of you as jaemin leaned down and began eating away at your cunt.

"J-jaemin! So...go-good!" Your head flew back as his tongue sucked on your clit and a loud moan filled the room.

Jaemin smirked against your heat, "I haven't even fucked you yet and your already sounding like a dumb whore. Its so easy to break you princess."

"N-no its j-ju-...." you whimpered as your brain wasnt even trying to help you function right. His tongue was extraordinary. "Mmmm."

"Aw my dumb little princess is so cute." He muttered diving back into lapping at your soaked cunt. It was almost as if on cue and without warning, you were cumming again. Jaemins hasty tongue took it all. Groaning at the taste of you in his mouth.

He sat up over you, grabbing your neck, pulling you into a deep kiss. You tasted yourself on his tongue. Deepening the kiss by grabbing the back of his hair, jaemin couldnt help but moan a bit as his cock brushed against your thigh. He felt big. Bigger than the few guys you've been with and you were ecstatic.

You tugged on jaemins pants and shirt as a way to tell him to take them off and he did after getting off of you and sitting on the edge of the bed. His abs were more defined than you thought and when his cock sprung free, your mouth started watering. Jaemins smirk only grew watching you stare. He was starting to get cocky

"What? You wanna suck my cock?" Jaemin asked sweetly.

"Yes please." You reached over to try and touch him but he didn't allow you. And smacked your hand away. It was a way for him to tease you and you hated it.

"So kind for nana now. Ealier you were so cock hungry that you decided to be a brat. Did nana finally break you?" Jaemin whispered as he moved a piece of hair out of your face, looking at you with fill admiration.

"No you didn't break me. But I wanna suck you off." You whined as jaemin picked you up and sat you just above his cock, the tip teasing at your entrance.

"Too bad. Now I want you to sit." Jaemin said looking into your eyes. You obeyed with a little hesitation. His cock was surely going to hurt you so you took it slowly and started lowering your hips. "Fuck...thats a good girl." Jaemin praised, watching his cock dissappear between your legs and your tummy get full with his cock. "My baby's so tiny you can see my cock in your belly." He said, pushing down on the area where he was imprinted in you.

Slowly you started moving, lifting your hips up and down. You were wet enough that he could easily slide in and out with no problem.

Jaemins head fell back as he sighed with relief, grunting as you picked up the pace, "So tight for nana." He whispered and you moaned back loudly. His cock stretched every inch of you to the point where it felt like you'd split.

"More more more." You whined against jaemins neck, gripping his shoulders tightly. Carefully jaemin flipped you both over so he was on top and continued pounding into your destroyed cunt. He kept a hand around your neck squeezing it every so often as a choked out moan left your throat.

His cock was so deep and fast that you couldn't think straight. You kept blabbering about his cock. Only thing on your mind was how nice he felt inside you. Jaemin bit his lip as he smirked at you, grabbing your hair and bringing your face close to his, "Now will you admit that I fucked you dumb and say your nanas dumb slut?"

"Y-yes, I'm na-nanas dumb sl-slut." You cried, tears falling down your face from how good he felt inside and if you thought jaemin couldn't go any faster, he did. His thrusts were hard and rough, sure enough to hurt your thighs tomorrow as he pounded relentlessly. "So close." Your voice came out choked as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. You held on to jaemins hand that was on your neck as he helped you with your orgasm.

Jaemin wasnt far behind you with his and groaned loudly, "fuck, where do you want it princess?"

"I-inside." You moaned as the feeling of hot cum was shot inside you. Jaemins hips kept moving him through his orgasm until he slowly came to a stop. Both of you panted loudly, there were even a few tears falling down your cheek here and there.

Jaemin slowly pulled out, making sure not to hurt you, and he laid beside you. "You did so well." He kissed your forehead. "Cmon ill carry you to bathroom so we can take a bath." He said picking up your worn out naked figure with so much care. Making you forget he was your enemy.

#nct smut #nct #na jaemin #na jaemin smut #kpop #kpop smut #nct 127 #nct dream #wayv #nct u #jaemin #jaemin nct dream #jaemin nct #nct dream smut #wayv smut #nct 127 smut

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pazumane-archive · 3 years ago

Text

Closing Time - Asahi x Reader

Characters: Asahi Azumane, female reader, original female character, small Taichi cameo

Relationships: Asahi Azumane x Reader

Genre: Fluff, hurt/comfort if you squint, SFW but 16+ please

Warnings: Alcohol, general drunken shenanigans, emetophobia (mentions of vomit), bad language

WC: 6.4k

Author’s Note: Hi everyone! This is a totally self-indulgent bedtime-scenario-type story because there is simply not enough Asahi/Reader content out there and I adore him. It’s also my first time writing in 2nd person, so PLEASE feel free to send me any feedback, please just be kind :) I really don’t like to use y/n, so I only used it a couple times towards the end when I wasn’t sure what else to do lol

The preview begins with the bolded text below and fic continues after the cut :)

Reblogs appreciated! <3

You weren’t planning on getting this drunk. But by the time it got to be about 11:30, you didn’t know what else to do. You had put so much effort and energy into making yourself look nice just for your date not to show up. Your roommate was out of town, so instead of going home and pouting, you figured you might as well have some fun while you were out. But you’ve never been good at exercising restraint, and the fact that you were alone wasn’t doing you any favors. But by closing time had rolled around, you could hardly see straight. You needed help, so you call upon an old friend.

“Do you have anybody you can call for a ride?” Kawanishi asks.

Kawanishi’s the bartender at this izakaya, and over the course of the night, you spent most of the time talking his ear off. He’s nice enough, and held pleasant conversation for the last few hours. He says he used to be a volleyball player, and had even played on the same team as a one of the guys on the Japan National Team. You forget to ask him which school he attended, but he probably was tired of talking to your drunk ass anyway, so you don’t bother asking. “Yeah,” you say, digging in your purse for your phone. “Are you sure? I can call a cab for you if you need it,” he offers. “Nah,” you say, hiccupping between words. “I’ll call somebody. Thank you though.” “No problem,” he says. “Just try to make it quick.” You scroll through your phone, trying to figure out who to call. Your roommate’s out of town visiting her parents, so she’s a no-go. You could call Kokomi. Honestly, she would deserve the 2AM phone call for setting you up on this failed blind date in the first place. Ever since you moved to Tokyo last month, she was constantly trying to set you up with somebody, whether it was a friend, a coworker, or some rando that she had met on the train. Unfortunately, all of them were jerks. And this one was the biggest jerk of all. You silently curse yourself for going along with her antics again.

“He’s great, you’ll love him!” “You said that about the last three guys you tried to set me up with, Kokomi.” “Please!! You’ll never know if you don’t even give him a chance.”

Well, you gave him a chance. And it ended up with you all alone, drunk as hell in an unfamiliar part of the city. You dial Kokomi’s number, but it goes straight to voicemail. “Bitch,” you mutter. You unlock your phone again and look through to find somebody that might be able to take you home. You scroll back to the top of your contact list, and your eyes settle on another name. He lives just a few blocks away, and knowing him, he’s probably awake working on something anyway. You click on his contact and wait for him to answer.

The exhaustion’s starting to get to him. It’s the weekend and he can afford to stay up an extra couple of hours to finish this design, but the combination of fatigue and frustration are taking over. He sets down his pencil and moves towards his bed, until his cell starts to buzz. He glances over at the clock on the wall. 1:49 AM.

Who could possibly be calling at this hour?

Asahi picks up his phone, surprised to see your name on the screen. His heart skips a beat in his chest, both from excitement and nervousness. Aside from his teammates, you’re one of the only people he bothered to keep in contact with after high school. The two of you had even met up a few times since you moved to the city, but he never would have expected you to call at this hour unless… unless something is wrong. “Hey you, what’s up?” He says, choking back a yawn. “Hiiiii Asahiiii! I tried to call Kokomi but she didn’t answer her phone… could you come pick me up?” Your voice is thick and your words are almost unintelligible as you speak. It’s obvious that you’re far from sober. “Where are you?” Asahi asks, failing to mask the anxiety in his voice. “Are you okay? Are you safe?” “M’fine,” you slur. “But I…” Suddenly the call drops. Asahi calls you back in a panic, his heart racing as he waited for you to answer. You could be in danger and he’d be powerless to help you. He doesn’t even know where you are. “Hello?” A man’s voice comes through the speaker. “Who are you? Where is she?” Asahi asks frantically. “Relax, man. I’m just the bartender,” he says. “Look, your friend’s next to me, but she’s on the verge of passing out. Can you come get her before she pukes all over my bar? She’s at Zoetrope. You know where that is?” “Of course, I’m on my way now! I’ll be there in ten minutes,” Asahi says, grabbing his apartment keys and putting on a pair of shoes. He’s out the door almost immediately.

Kawanishi presses your phone back into your hands. Your head is spinning so fast that you struggle to keep your eyes open. “Is he coming?” you ask. “Yeah, he’s on the way,” Kawanishi says. “He’ll be here soon. Now do me a favor, don’t get this drunk the next time you come into my izakaya or I’ll have to kick you out.” “You’re kicking me out???” “Only if you start throwing up,” he says under his breath. “I’m not going to throw up!” you exclaim, suddenly becoming very aware of the churning in your stomach. You grumble, slumping over the bar. You squeeze your eyes shut, the spinning in your head only getting worse with every breath you take. You feel like you’re going to die, and honestly, between the embarrassment of being stood up and the wave of nausea coming over you, you’re ready to welcome that death with open arms. “Hey!” Kawanishi says, smacking the bar next to your head. “Your friend’s going to be here soon, don’t fall asleep or I’ll throw you out on the street myself.” “I’m sorry, Kawanishi-san.” You sit up slowly and cradle your head in your hands once more, trying to make the world stop spinning.

Please get here soon, Asahi.

Asahi sprints down the street as fast as he can towards the izakaya. He’s sure that he looks suspicious running down the street alone at night, but he doesn’t care. You’re in trouble, and he’s the only person that can help you. He finally makes it to the bar and hastily pulls the door open. You’re dressed beautifully, and your makeup and hair are exquisitely done. Unfortunately, the way you’re slumped over the bar makes it obvious that something’s wrong. He’s not sure what happened, but whatever it was, it must have been rough. The bartender gently helps you out of your seat, and Asahi can’t help but think that he looks very familiar. You straighten up and as soon as you make eye contact with Asahi, you perk up. “Asahi-san!” you exclaim, rushing towards him and almost falling over. You crush him in an unexpectedly tight hug. “Long time no see, big guy!” “I saw you three days ago,” he says under his breath. You continue babbling unintelligibly, and Asahi looks up at the bartender. “Did she close out her tab?” Asahi asks. “I took care of it already,” the bartender replies. “Please just make sure she gets home okay. She’s had a rough night.” “Yeah, of course,” Asahi says. “Thanks for helping her out.” “No problem.” Asahi peels your arms off him and starts to nudge you towards the door. Just before the two of you leave, Asahi stops and turns back to the bartender. “Have we met before?” he asks. “I played for Shiratorizawa. Didn’t think I’d see you again, Karasuno Samurai.” Asahi frowns slightly. He hasn’t heard that nickname high school, and it’s weird hearing it again now. “Right,” he says. “Well, thanks again. Have a good night.” Asahi leads you out of the bar and down the sidewalk. You hold tightly to his arm, stumbling over yourself. He braces you against his side, and you take this opportunity to tease him a little bit. “Do you like my outfit, Asahi-san?” you ask, pressing into his side. “Yeah, it’s really nice!” he answers nervously, turning his head to hide the blush creeping up his cheeks. He’s not lying – you look beautiful, both your top and your skirt accentuating your curves in all the right places. But it would be wrong to say anything more than that while you’re in this state. That wouldn’t be fair to either of you. He brusquely clears his throat and keeps walking as soon as the light signals that you can cross. “I dressed up extra nice tonight, but it didn’t even fucking matter,” you grumble, your voice breaking slightly. Asahi either doesn’t hear you, or does hear you and decides not to say anything. “I’m soooo glad you’re here,” you say, drawing out your words even longer than you were a minute ago. “I’m sorry, this is super embarrassing! I should’ve figured this out on my own.” “It’s okay,” Asahi says. “How long have you been in Tokyo again?” “A month? I think?” “Exactly,” he says. “You probably don’t know your way around that much. I’d feel terrible if I wasn’t able to help you find your way home.” “Meh,” you say. “I’ve had the worst night of my fucking life, so maybe it would be better if I passed out in a ditch somewhere.” “Do you want to talk about it?” Asahi asks. “No,” you answer quickly. “Okay.” You start blathering again and Asahi has to practically drag you down the street behind him. The station just past his apartment has a train that can drop you right by your building. He can just take a cab back after he gets you home. He considers inviting you stay the night at his place since it’s right there, but he’s afraid of being weird, so he doesn’t say anything. The two of you come to a stop at the train station… which is closed. “I’m sorry,” Asahi says remorsefully. “I guess the train stopped running at midnight. I’ll call you a cab.” He goes to pull his phone out of his pocket, but you grab his hand before he can. “Can I stay at your place tonight?” you ask sheepishly. “I… my roommate is out of town. And I’m really not doing good right now. I just really don’t want to be alone.” Despite how out of it you’ve been since he picked you up, Asahi sees nothing but complete sincerity in your eyes. Tonight must have been really rough. “Are you sure?” he asks. “I’ll just sleep on the couch- or a futon if you have one!” you say, nodding. “Okay.” Asahi turns back towards his apartment and you follow closely behind him, not letting go of his hand the entire time.

Asahi helps you across the threshold of his apartment and sits you down on a chair by the door. “Asahi-san, you’re so handsome with your hair down like that,” you say, reaching up to twirl a finger in his long chestnut tresses. “And you’re loopy,” Asahi mutters, disentangling your fingers from his hair. Once again, he finds himself hiding a blush. He’s not used to being showered with compliments, and he knows you wouldn’t be saying this stuff if you were sober. He kicks off his shoes and kneels down in front of you, helping you take yours off. “How are you feeling?” he asks you. “Can I get you some water or a some–” “Why didn’t you ask me out when we were in high school?” you ask suddenly. “I think I made it pretty obvious that I had a crush on you. It’s all I could think about when you were holding my hand back there.” “I – I, uh,” Asahi stammers. You burst out laughing, startling Asahi. It’s that same boisterous laugh you’ve had for as long as he could remember knowing you. You were always self-conscious about it in high school, but your laugh has always been one of Asahi’s favorite things about you. Despite the fact that it’s at his expense, he’s glad to see your mood improve. Asahi considers your question for a moment. He really liked you too back then, and everyone knew it. Suga and Daichi constantly teased him for it.

So why hadn’t he asked you out back then?

Well, for a number of reasons. He spent so much of his third year focused on volleyball that he didn’t have the mental or emotional capacity for much else. He hadn’t even planned on going back to school after graduation until Nishinoya helped convince him to pursue his passions. He felt directionless, and he didn’t want to burden anybody else with his indecision. But most importantly, he was scared you’d reject him. Suga was right. He really was a coward. He’d dated a few people since high school graduation, but none of them made him feel the way you did, and they didn’t treat him as well as you would have. Which begs the question – why hasn’t he asked you out since you moved to Tokyo? He pushes the thought to the back of his mind. This isn’t the kind of conversation to be having when you aren’t even able to form a coherent sentence. Asahi’s thoughts are interrupted by your hand on his shoulder and a loud hiccup. “I should wash my face. Can I wash my face?” “Sure,” Asahi says, helping you stand up. You stumble forward, but he catches you easily and pulls you back to your feet. He quietly leads you to the bathroom and sits you down on the edge of the bathtub. “I’m sorry,” you say. “I’m a mess.” “No, you’re not. Hold on a second,” he says, opening the drawer under the sink. He pulls out a small package of makeup wipes and takes one out. He kneels in front of you and begins wiping the makeup off your face. “I know they’re not great for your skin,” he says. “But it’s better than nothing, right?” “Why do you even have those?” you ask between hiccups. “Do you wear makeup? I mean, it’s obviously fine if you do, but it doesn’t really seem like your thing.” “I don’t, but you never know when they’ll come in handy! I do work with a lot of makeup artists,” he says, somewhat defensively. You get the sense that he’s lying about something, but Asahi changes the subject before you can probe him any further. “So what were you doing there by yourself?” he asks. “It’s not safe to be alone so late at night.” Clearly this was the wrong thing to ask. All the negative emotions and thoughts you were having all even spring to the forefront of your mind, and you start to cry. Asahi starts apologizing profusely, but you wave him off. “It’s fine,” you sniffle, wiping a tear away from your cheek. “Kokomi was trying to set me up with one of her friends, but he never showed up.” Asahi sits back on his heels. Kokomi is another girl from Karasuno that ended up in Tokyo. She wasn’t in the same class as him, but he remembers how loud she always was in the hallways. Honestly, both of you were always loud, but you’ve always been much more considerate of others than Kokomi ever was. “Shit,” he mumbles. “That really sucks. I’m sorry.” “Yeah. It does suck.” Asahi grabs another wipe and asks you to close your eyes. You do as he says, and he lightly wipes off your eye makeup. He’s worked with enough models to recognize that you’re wearing false eyelashes, so he gently pulls those off too. You feel yourself start to wobble on the edge of the tub, so you grip his arm to steady yourself. “I’m sorry,” you whisper. “It’s okay,” he says. “You don’t need to keep apologizing to me.” “Do you think there’s something wrong with me?” you ask suddenly. “Wait, what?” “I just… this keeps happening to me. Everyone always says that it’s because they’re not the right person for me, but it’s starting to feel like there’s just something wrong with me instead,” you say, choking back a sob. “I know I just moved here, but I’m just so lonely. I hate feeling like I’m not good enough.” Asahi tenderly wipes a tear from your cheek and cups your face in both hands. “Hey, look at me. There is nothing wrong with you,” he says sincerely. “That guy is an idiot and a jerk. If he had any idea how extraordinary you are, he never would’ve done that to you.” You can’t bring yourself to look him in the eyes. You don’t feel like you deserve to be spoken to like this – with such genuine kindness and sincerity. Asahi makes you feel so good. So special. He always has. And he’s just so… tender, especially for somebody who looks as intimidating as he does. You wonder if those feelings from high school ever truly went away. You sit up straighter and try to smile at him, but your stomach flips unexpectedly and violently. “Asahi-san?” you ask, gripping his shoulder tightly. “Yeah?” he replies. “Toilet.” Asahi moves out of the way as fast as possible. You hunch over the rim and retch into the toilet bowl. Asahi quickly scoops up your hair and holds it behind your head as you throw up. “Please, just leave me,” you mutter. “I’m gonna fucking die here.” “I’m not going to leave you here and you’re not going to die,” Asahi says, gingerly picking up the last loose strands laying on your neck and holding them back with the rest of your hair. Your back tenses up again before you begin heaving once more. Asahi tucks his nose into the collar of his shirt, careful to make sure that he’s out of your field of vision. He wants to be there for you but he had a weak stomach himself and the sight and smell of somebody else’s vomit is something he knows he won’t be able to handle. You mumble weak apologies between hacks, but Asahi just ignores them and rubs your back gently. After what feels like an eternity, the churning in your stomach finally stops and you reach up towards the flush handle. The exhaustion in your body and heart finally begin to catch up with you, and your hand falls back to your side. “I got it. Do you think you’re done?” Asahi asks, coaxing you back up into a seated position. You nod, too tired to try to speak. Asahi quickly tugs his shirt back down from his face before you can see and closes the toilet lid. “I’m sorry,” you mumble. “Don’t be,” Asahi says, flushing the toilet. “I’m your friend. I want to help you. And I’ve already told you that you don’t need to apologize to me.” Asahi helps you sit on the top of the toilet and rises to his feet. “Don’t go anywhere,” he says, scurrying out of the room. Although your eyes are closed, you still feel your body swaying. More than anything, you just want to go to sleep. Asahi pads back into the room and presses a wooden cup into your hands. “Drink this,” he says, turning on the faucet. Even though drinking something is the last thing you want to be doing right now, you go ahead and lift the cup to your open mouth. Cold water passes your lips and washes away some of the disgusting taste in your mouth. It feels gross, but you force yourself to drink all of it. Asahi takes the cup from your hand and turns the faucet back off. You flinch at the feeling of a damp washcloth on your face. “It’s okay,” Asahi says gently, cradling your chin with his free hand and angling your face up. “Just cleaning you up a little.” You murmur in acknowledgement and Asahi continues to wipe your face down. You almost fall asleep sitting on his toilet, but he gently shakes you to keep you awake. “Stay with me for another minute,” he says softly. “You can go to sleep soon. You’re gonna be just fine. I promise.” His words and his voice are so sweet that you want to cry. A couple rogue tears drip from your eyes and onto his hands. “I’m sorry,” you say once more. Asahi sets the washcloth on the counter and starts to pull you to your feet. You struggle to stay on your feet, so instead, he carefully scoops you into his arms and carries you out the bathroom. You don’t care where you go, you just need to sleep. Asahi’s pretty certain you’re asleep by the time he deposits you on his mattress. Your chest rises and falls slowly as he pulls his duvet over you. He begins to make his way to the couch, but stops when he feels you grab his hand. “Please don’t go, Asahi-san,” you whisper. “Please.” You tug harder at his fingers and he knows he can’t refuse you. He ends up sitting on the edge of the bed holding your hand until you fall asleep.

As soon as your quiet snores permeate the silence, Asahi untangles his fingers from yours. He brushes a loose strand of hair out of your face and he can’t help but let his eyes linger on your sleeping face for just a moment. The moonlight trickling through the window illuminates your hair and casts a silvery glow on your skin. Despite the awful night you’ve had, you look absolutely radiant. He feels himself blushing again, but he takes some comfort in the fact that he doesn’t have to try and hide it this time. Not while you’re fast asleep in his bed. He’s far too scared to admit it, even to himself, but he’s fantasized about falling asleep next to you many times before. But in those fantasies you weren’t drunk and crying over another man. Asahi sighs, stands up, and moves over to the dresser as quietly as he can. After setting a few things out for you, he goes into the bathroom, gets ready for bed and heads to the couch for the night.

By the time you wake up in the morning, you feel like you’re going to die. You can’t remember what exactly happened the previous night. The last thing you remember clearly was talking to the bartender about high school volleyball, of all things. Your head’s pounding, and your stomach aches painfully, screaming at you to please eat something. You don’t open your eyes, fearing that it would somehow trigger another round of vomiting. Eventually, you force yourself into a seated position and open your eyes. The bedroom you’re in is small, but pretty well-decorated. It’s decently tidy. The only mess is a few crumpled up clothing designs discarded on the floor next to the trash bin.

Designs? Did that mean?

You’re at Asahi’s apartment. In his bed. Your eyes widen in panic.

What happened last night?

You’re still wearing the clothes that you wore to the bar last night. And there’s no evidence of him ever being in bed with you. You reach over towards your phone, which has been graciously plugged in for you and set on the bedside table. That’s when you notice the note along with a sleeve of crackers and a glass of ginger ale.

Good morning!

There’s a set of clothes you can wear at the foot of the bed and a spare toothbrush in the bathroom. Feel free to take a shower if you want. Extra towels are underneath the sink. Please have something to eat and drink too. You’ll feel better if you do.

-Asahi

P.S. Please don’t feel bad. It’s okay.

You grab a few of the crackers from the bedside table and eat them, washing them down with the ginger ale.

Why does Asahi have to be so damn considerate? The whole situation is so embarrassing.

You contemplate just grabbing your phone and getting the hell out of his apartment, but you’re not going to pass up the opportunity to shower. You finish the last of the crackers, chug down the ginger ale, and grab the spare clothes at the end of the bed. You turn the doorknob as silently as you can and awkwardly creep down the hall towards the bathroom, stopping briefly to peek in the living room. Asahi’s fast asleep on the couch, clad only in pajama pants and a pair of fuzzy socks. His hair is down and messily splayed across the throw pillow he’s resting his head on. Quiet snores pass his lips. He looks cute. Your eyes trail from his face and down to his stomach. Despite quitting volleyball after high school, he seems to have mostly maintained his athletic form, except for a tiny little layer of pudge on his lower stomach. The corners of your lips twitch up into a smile, until that little voice in the back of your mind reminds you of your place.

Quit staring, you perv! You need to get out of here!

You hurriedly continue down the hallway and jump into the shower as soon as you get into the bathroom. You think that maybe if you clean up fast enough, you can get out of Asahi’s apartment before he wakes up. However, as soon as you step into the shower, all worries about rushing out disappear into the back of your mind. You bask in the hot water, the steam clearing your sinuses and relieving some of the pain in your head. You silently thank the gods that Asahi actually uses conditioner, and not just 3-in-1 like most of the other men you were previously…. acquainted with. Although, it makes sense to you that somebody with hair like Asahi’s would have a strict haircare routine. As you shower, fragmented memories of last night start to come back to you.

Being stood up at the bar. Calling Asahi for help. Puking your guts out in his bathroom. Him carrying you into his room and laying you down on his bed. Him staying by your side until you fell asleep. You wishing he would’ve crawled into bed with you and held you through the night… Wait, what was that last part?

As soon as you’re done rinsing the conditioner from your hair, you step out of the shower and swiftly towel off. You find the spare toothbrush Asahi mentioned, take it out of the packaging, and brush your teeth with his toothpaste. The dry, gross feeling in your mouth is quickly replaced with a minty fresh taste. You slip on the sweatpants and t-shirt that Asahi left for you and dry your hair. Thankfully, Asahi isn’t as huge as most people make him out to be, so while the clothes he left out are a bit big on you, you’re not drowning in them. You’ll just bring them back some other day. You start combing through your hair, and that’s when you hear it – the sound of somebody padding around in the apartment. Shit. Once the footsteps quiet down, you rush out of the bathroom and towards the front door. Asahi eyes you as you scoop up your shoes, pushing his glasses up his nose. “Good morning!” he says kindly. “How are you feeling?” “I’m so sorry Azumane-san, it won’t happen again!” you say as you throw open the door and rush into the hallway. “Hold on, wait up!” he says as you pull the door closed behind you. You run all the way to the stairs at the end of the hallway and go to call Kokomi for a ride home. That’s when you realize that your phone is still plugged into the wall in Asahi’s room. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. You turn around and trudge back towards his apartment. Before you can even knock, the door opens slowly. Asahi stands there in just his pajama pants, holding your phone out to you. “You shouldn’t leave without your phone,” he says. You thank him and take your phone, a blush creeping up your cheeks. You try not to stare at his bare chest, already feeling like a creep for ogling him while he was sleeping. “Your clothes are still in the bathroom, too,” he says. “I can go get them for you. Or I can just wash them and give them back to you another time if you want to leave.” “No, that’s okay,” you say, covering your flushing cheeks with the collar of his shirt. “I’ll get them. Can I come in?” “Of course.” Asahi steps out of your way and you head straight for the bathroom, avoiding looking in his eyes. Asahi never gets angry, and you know he wouldn’t be mad at you over something like this, but a lingering sense of shame still washes over you. You scoop up your clothes and leave the bathroom. As soon as you cross the threshold into the living room, the smell of coffee and frying fish washes over you. Asahi stands in the kitchen, cooking breakfast. In the time that you were in the bathroom, he put on a Black Jackals sweatshirt and threw his hair into a loose bun. “Do you want a cup of coffee?” he asks, smiling at you and pouring his own cup. “It’ll help with the hangover.” You stand there and ponder his offer for a moment. Sensing your hesitancy, Asahi suddenly turns back to the stove and mumbles something that you can’t quite make out. “What did you say?” you ask. Asahi rubs the back of his neck, a nervous habit he’s had since you were kids. “I don’t mean to pressure you to stay or anything! I just thought it might help for you to have something more than crackers and ginger ale.” “You’ve done plenty to help me since last night,” you say. “But I’ll take that coffee if the offer is still on the table.” “It is!” Asahi says a little too enthusiastically for his own good. You can’t help but smirk as you take your seat at the kitchen table. Asahi pours you a cup of coffee and slides you a bowl of the rice and fish he made. You thank him quietly and start to eat. He slides into the chair across from you and eats his own breakfast, eyeing you carefully. “What?” you ask after catching him staring. “Since when have you ever called me Azumane-san?” he asks. “I don’t know,” you mumble into your coffee mug. “I didn’t think we reverted back from first name basis,” he says. “I thought we knew each other better than that.” “I don’t know,” you say, a devilish smile crossing your face. “Care to explain why you actually had those makeup wipes in your bathroom drawer? I doubt your makeup artists are coming over to your apartment.” Now it’s Asahi’s turn to blush again. “My ex-girlfriend left them here,” he says. “Felt like a waste to just throw them out.” “Ex-girlfriend?!” you exclaim suddenly, startling Asahi and causing him to drop the wipe on the floor. “I didn’t know you were seeing somebody!” “Yeah,” he says, throwing the wipe in the trash and grabbing a fresh one. “We broke up a while before you moved to the city. She left a bunch of her stuff here and refused to come pick it up. I think she was just too embarrassed to see me again. I got rid of most of it a while ago, but I kept some of the more… uh, utilitarian things.” “I’m sorry,” you say sincerely. “Why did you break up?” Asahi feels a slight pang in his chest. He met his last girlfriend through his job. She was nice enough, and things seemed like they were going okay until he showed up at her apartment to surprise her for their 6 month anniversary, only to find another man in her bed. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” you say. “It’s fine. She cheated on me with some other guy,” he says, his expression darkening. “I think they’re engaged now.” “Shit,” you say. “What a bitch.” “Woah, settle down, it’s okay –” “No, it’s not,” you say firmly. “You deserve someone way better than that. Somebody that treats you with the love and respect that you deserve.” Asahi knows you’re right, but he doesn’t really want to press it. That whole mess had done a number on his mental health, and he really doesn’t want to burden you with his emotional baggage. He adjusts his glasses again and forces a smile. “You know, you should really take your own advice,” he says. You try to think back on what you had said to him last night. The details are fuzzy, but you remember crying. A lot. Instead of answering him, you shovel down the last of the rice and fish. “Thank you for the meal,” you say. Asahi smiles and nods at you before beginning to clear the dishes away. You stand up and stop him, insisting that you clean up yourself. As you finish drying the bowls, your phone buzzes. You check it, only to see a handful of missed texts from Kokomi.

Ono Kokomi [8:32} Hey!! Sorry I missed your call. How was he? (°◡°♡) [9:14] That good? (^.~)☆ [9:18] Or that bad?! (;;;*_*) [9:57] HELLO?? (ﾉಥ益ಥ)ﾉ [10:32] ARE YOU ALIVE?!?!?! 〣( ºΔº )〣

You roll your eyes and quickly type out your response.

Y/N [10:33] Yeah, no thanks to you. (￢_￢;)

Ono Kokomi [10:34] Was it really that bad?

Y/N [10:34] He didn’t even show up. (╥_╥) [10:34] Azumane picked me up at 2 AM because I was too drunk to go home alone. I stayed the night at his place. [10:34] Speaking of which, can you come pick me up? Not really in a state to take the train and I think you owe me one.

Ono Kokomi [10:35] (⊙_⊙) [10:35] Spill. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Y/N [10:36] There’s nothing to spill. I threw up in his bathroom and he slept on the couch. Can you just answer my question please? (҂` ﾛ ´)凸

Ono Kokomi [10:36] Yeah, yeah, yeah. I’m on my way, lovebird. (￣ε￣＠)

“Everything okay?” Asahi asks. “Yeah,” you say, slipping your phone back into your pocket. “Kokomi’s going to come pick me up.” “Are you sure? I can take you if you want,” he offers. “Yeah, she’s already on her way,” you say, setting the bowl down and turning to face him. “Besides, you’ve done more than enough for me already over the last twelve hours.” You silently pick up your things and walk towards the door. Asahi rises from his chair and awkwardly clears his throat. “Do you have all your stuff?” You nod and smile. Before you open the door, you approach him and wrap your arms around his waist. He shyly hugs you back, hoping you can’t hear the rapid pounding in his chest. “Thank you, Asahi,” you whisper. “You’re amazing.” You let go first and leave his apartment quietly. As soon as the door closes, Asahi walks back into the living room and flops down on the couch. He covers his face with his hands and groans. This morning was almost too much for him – seeing you in his clothes, eating breakfast together, you hugging him before you left. It was all so painfully domestic, and he wishes it didn’t have to end. If only he wasn’t such a coward, he would’ve asked you to stay longer. He doesn’t know how long he lays there until he finally decides to get moving for the day and finish that piece he was working on when you called last night. He checks his phone and sees your name pop up on the screen.

Y/N [11:00] I’m home. Thanks again for babysitting me last night. Whatever did I do to deserve you as my guardian angel? ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ✩‧₊˚ [11:00] Or was that Noya-san? I forget. (^ω~)

Azumane Asahi [11:01] Lol. You’re welcome. And that was what we called Noya in our club days, but I don’t mind you calling me that too (* ^ ω ^)

Y/N [11:03] Let me make it up to you. [11:04] Come over for dinner tomorrow night?

Asahi almost drops his phone on his face. His fingers fumble as he types his response. He waits a moment before sending it, rereading it ten times to make sure he doesn’t come across as desperate.

Azumane Asahi [11:07] I’d love to. Do you want me to bring anything?

Y/N [11:08] That’s not necessary. I owe you a nice dinner. [11:09] You still like tonkotsu ramen?

Azumane Asahi [11:10] I do!

Y/N [11:11] It’s a date! See you tomorrow! (☞°ヮ°)☞ ☜(°ヮ°☜)

“You said nothing happened last night,” Kokomi says, staring over your shoulder at your phone. “Nothing happened, Kokomi. Now leave me alone,” you snap, tossing one of your throw pillows at her. She deftly catches it and plops down on the couch next to you. “Please,” she says, swatting you with the pillow. “The only reason you two haven’t gotten together is because you’re the densest people on the planet. I bet he’s flopped down on his couch right now thinking about how he doesn’t even want to wait that long to see you.” “Shut up,” you grumble. Kokomi’s phone rings and she quickly checks it. “Anyway, I have to go meet Kaito,” she says. “Got to go. Let me know how your date goes!” She waves and practically skips out the front door. You lay down and start making a shopping list for ingredients for tonkatsu ramen. As soon as you’re done, you set your phone down and cross your arms over your face.

“I bet he’s flopped down on his couch right now thinking about how he doesn’t even want to wait that long to see you.” No, Kokomi. That’s me.

#asahi azumane #azumane asahi #asahi x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu #haikyuu fic #haikyuu fic writer #asahi x female reader #asahi x you #asahi x yn

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huttons · 4 years ago

Text

if you’re in love, you’re a lucky one || nathan mackinnon

word count: 20.7k

summary: Rory is just trying to find her place in Denver after landing her dream job after university. As she slowly finds friends and starts to feel comfortable with the choices she made, she meets none other than Nathan Mackinnon. They hit it off fast, but not everything turns out like a dream.

author’s note: This was written as part of @hockeynetwork‘s winter fic exchange for @broadstbroskis! I’m sorry this took so long, but I really do hope it’s worth the wait <3 A lot of love went into this, and I’d also love to thank @antoineroussel for listening to me yell about this fic for far too long.

“Never leave a friend behind. Friends are all we have to get us through this life - and they are the only things from this world that we could hope to see in the next.” ― Dean Koontz

Rory feels extremely lucky that she managed to find a job in her field before graduation has rolled around, even if it’s cutting things a little bit close. She knows how hard it is, especially seeing her friends struggle with it all. Even knowing how lucky she is, a huge part of her is anxious about having to move to a completely different state than all of the people she’s gotten close to during university. There’s something terrifying about starting over in a place you know nothing about.

At least the things she’s heard about Denver are almost all good. Besides, it’s not like she’s moving to the other side of the country, but Rory still feels overwhelmed at all of the things she has to prepare for. In the moments that it all starts to become too much, she wonders if she made the right choice.

“I think it’s a little too late to back out,” Piper laughs. “You already have everything set up and ready to go. Besides, you got that LiDAR job you were freaking out so much about. I refuse to let you drop out of it now.”

Rory sighs. “I know, it’s just scary. Like… what if I hate my coworkers? I’m depending on the fact that we become friends because how else am I supposed to make friends?”

“You’re pretty likeable, I don’t think you have anything to worry about,” Piper replies, smiling brightly. “But if they end up being shitty, I’ll fly down here with the girls and fight them for you.”

“I appreciate it,” Rory says softly, smiling a little.

“Of course, it’s the least we could do. Now, do you want to go over your list again?” Piper inquires. “Or do you feel confident about it now?”

“You’ve told me I’ve had everything the last three times, I don’t think it’s possible for me to be missing everything,” Rory sighs.

“There we go, that’s the spirit!” Piper teases.

Rory rolls her eyes. “Maybe it is a good thing I’m moving to another state.”

“Whatever you say,” Piper replies, smiling. “Now, do you wanna have movie night with the girls?”

Rory smiles, nodding, knowing that this is probably the last time everyone will be able to hang out before finals and everyone going their own ways. It’s a terrifying thought knowing that they won’t be seeing each other again come September, but she knows that everyone is going to be doing amazing things. Besides, they’d all still be friends, things would just be looking a little bit different.

The last few weeks roll by in a state of panic Rory hasn’t felt in a long time. All of her friends were panicked by finals, but also saddened by the fact that this would be the last time everyone would be doing this together. When the day comes for Rory to pack up everything in the back of her SUV, everything feels a bit surreal.

“I’m scared,” Rory whispers to Piper as she puts the last box in the trunk.

“I think we all are,” Piper replies, smiling sadly. “This feels like we’re all being thrown into proper adulthood again with no better idea of what to do.”

Rory snorts. “Yeah, it really does. I just… nothing is gonna be the same, is it?”

“No, but don’t think you’re gonna get rid of me that easily. We didn’t go through all of this for nothing,” Piper reassures. “I know I can’t just waltz over when someone breaks your heart, but I’m still just a phone call away.”

“And you better call before making any impulsive decisions,” Rory teased.

“But they won’t be impulsive if I tell you first,” Piper groans.

Rory laughs. “Yeah, that’s kind of the point.”

“You’ll do great, Rory. Don’t let them intimidate you too much down there.”

“I’ll do my best.”

They hug tightly one last time before Rory gets in the car and starts the long drive to Denver. It feels weird not making the usual drive back to her parents house, and it takes everything in her to not just turn right around. She turns up the music, and focuses on just trying to get to the first motel of the drive. There’s something lonely about not making the long drive with anyone else, especially being so used to just driving with her friends.

Over the next week, Rory makes the drive to Denver, making stops at different state parks to take in the view. Before she knows it, she’s rolled up to her new apartment complex. Everything starts to feel a bit more real as she realizes that this is where she’ll be living for quite some time. Taking a deep breath, she prepares herself for the long process of getting signed into her new place.

By the end of the day, Rory feels exhausted, even though she’s barely managed to unpack everything she brought. None of it is even organized yet, but it’s good enough for a first day. As she gets ready for bed, she groans, remembering that she still needs to get a bed, meaning that she’ll be sleeping on an air mattress until that happens.

“Ugh, this is what I get,” Rory mutters as she sets up her sleeping situation. “At least I don’t start work for a few days. That’s an upside, right?”

A few moments later, her phone is ringing, and it’s none other than Piper, probably checking in to make sure that she made it safely to the apartment.

“Oh good, you’re not dead,” Piper says, obviously smiling.

Rory rolls her eyes. “No, I’m not dead, but I just remembered that I’m gonna have to sleep on an air mattress until I get a proper bed.”

“See, I told you that you should just tie one to the top of your car!” Piper exclaims.

“It would have gotten wet from sitting outside overnight though. Nobody wants a wet mattress.”

“But I bet it sounds better than an air mattress.”

“Yeah, I don’t really know about that,” Rory replies, laughing. “I guess that should be my first priority tomorrow. Honestly, I can’t believe I didn’t sort this out before I left.”

“You had other things to worry about, like making sure you didn’t fail your geology final,” Piper jokes.

“I suppose you’re not wrong,” Rory sighs dramatically.”

“Of course I’m not. Now, where are my pictures? Send me pictures,” Piper demands.

Thankfully, the rest of the conversation helps ease Rory’s nerves, and she falls asleep quickly that night. When she wakes up in the morning, she groans as she stretches a bit. She decides that trying to find something more comfortable to sleep on is her mission for the day.

The next few days pass rather quickly as Rory does her best to get herself organized and situated before starting work. As her first day approaches, she feels nervous, still unsure of what to make of everything. But she’s also excited for it, knowing that she’s been waiting for this moment ever since she decided to become a geology major.

When her first day rolls around, she can feel the nerves thrumming through her, and she ends up at the office almost an hour early. It doesn’t seem like anybody else is there yet, so she waits in the parking lot until somebody taps on her window. She startles, but calms down when Rory realizes that it’s Shea, the guy who interviewed her.

“It’s good to meet you in person, Rory,” Shea greets as Rory gets out of the car. “Got here a little bit early, I’m guessing?”

“Yeah, you would be correct,” she replies, smiling a little. “I just wasn’t sure what to expect with traffic and I was nervous, so…”

“Happens to all of us. We’re the first ones here, so I’ll give you a quick tour before everyone else gets here,” Shea replies.

The office is fairly small, but that’s not surprising considering a lot of the work is done on various field sites. Rory perks up a little when Shea shows that she’ll have her own little corner of the office; she’d assumed she’d have to share space with someone else.

“We just like to make sure everyone feels like they have their own space here. It just makes everyone feel a bit more comfortable, you know?” Shea explains when Rory brings it up. “Besides, it’s not like there’s that many of us to take up space.”

“Oh, I guess that makes sense,” she replies.

Over the next few weeks, Rory feels a bit in over her head, but slowly starts to settle in. Her coworkers are welcoming, some inviting her to hang out outside of work as well. It’s more than she expected before moving to Denver, but she’s grateful for the warm welcome. There’s still days where she feels overwhelmed and misses seeing her friends every day, but she manages her best.

It’s a little over a month later when Shea invites her to go to the bar with a few other people from the office. Apparently it’s somewhat of a tradition with the group, and Rory feels delighted at being included.

“Of course you’re invited,” Shea says when Rory brings it up. “We just didn’t want to scare you off with being too much.”

Rory laughs a little. “I don’t think you guys can get any louder than my friends from university.”

“Well, I think we can take that as a challenge,” Ashton retorts. “Things can get a little bit wild over here.”

“Don’t listen to them, they’re just kidding,” Blair says, trying to hide her smile. “We mostly just hang out and grab a few drinks since most of us are past our partying days.”

The casual banter continues as they walk the few blocks to the bar that they frequent. Rory isn’t quite sure what she was expecting, but it seems like a relatively laid back place, at least in comparison to what she’s used to. At first, she feels a little bit out of place, unsure of where she stands with everyone in this new setting, but after a couple of drinks, she starts to settle in.

By the time she’s heading back to her apartment, Rory realizes that it’s been a long time since she’s laughed so much. There’s a small part of her that feels like she’s betraying her university friends, but she knows that’s ridiculous. Still, the feeling tugs at her, so she gives in and decides to call Piper, knowing that her friend will pick up.

“Hey, babe, I wasn’t expecting to hear from you,” Piper greets. “Is something up?”

“No, just missed you,” Rory whispers as she flops onto her bed. “Went out with some of my coworkers tonight and it felt weird. They were nice, but it’s just so different.”

“Oh, that sounds nice,” Piper replies, obviously smiling. “I’m glad you found new drinking buddies.”

“Nah, it wasn’t like that,” Rory says. “We mostly just talked, you know? But made me miss everyone.”

“Do you wanna talk about it?” Piper inquires, a little bit concerned. “Or is it like a ‘just kind of missing everyone’ type of thing?”

“I guess I just realized how different everything is going to be now,” Rory says softly.

“Well, that’s not a bad thing. Besides, you know I would come kick your ass before I let you forget about me. You know that, right?”

“Of course I do, Piper, you know I wouldn’t forget you.”

“That’s good then. Now, tell me about who you went to the bar with. I want to know everything.”

Rory smiles softly before talking about her night. She’s not sure how long they spend on the phone together, but when she falls asleep, she feels calmer than she has in a long time.

~ ~ ~

A few years down the line, and Rory has truly settled into Denver. She can’t imagine herself living anywhere else, and she’s grown to love her job and coworkers far more than she ever expected. There’s moments where it all feels a bit surreal that Rory was ever scared of moving, but now that she has great friends and a routine, it feels like this is what was meant to happen.

It’s another Friday night when she and the usual group are getting ready to head to the bar, albeit a bit later than normal. They all got swept up in a large project with a close deadline, and while going straight to bed sounds tempting, they’re more tempted by the new menu the bar rolled out earlier this week.

“I can’t believe I could be in bed, but instead I’m staying up to get bar food,” Ashton groans. “How the hell is this my life now?”

“I mean, it’s not too late to head back,” Rory teases. “We can always tell you about it on Monday.”

“That’s… that’s even worse,” Ashton complains. “This better be worth it.”

“Okay, but when has their food ever disappointed us?” Blair points out.

“Exactly!” Shea exclaims. “Besides, we can just stay for food and then leave.”

“I guess,” Ashton sighs.

When they get to the bar, they grab their normal table as Shea goes up to order. Considering it’s a Friday night, there aren’t too many people here, which is a big reason why they keep coming back. However, when Shea comes back with their food, a loud group comes walking in, earning them a couple of glares.

“Wait a minute,” Shea whispers, squinting at the group as he sets down the food. “I recognize them.”

Rory looks at him, confused. “Are they like… friends of yours that we don’t know about? I thought we were your only friends.”

“Oh my god,” Shea says, trying to hold back laughter. “No, they definitely play for the Avs. They are definitely professional athletes.”

“Well, what the fuck are they doing here then?” Ashton inquires as they grab some fries. “As much as I love it here, it’s kind of dingy.”

Shea shrugs. “Hell if I have a clue.”

They ignore the group for most of the night since they’re on opposite sides of the bar and never quite intersect. However, when Rory goes to get another drink, she sees her friends trying to not laugh as she makes her way back. She gives them a confused look, unsure if she did something weird.

“What did I miss?” Rory asks, concerned.

“Nothing, just seems like someone is checking you out,” Blair answers, smiling and glancing over to the Avs players.

Rory snorts. “That’s a good one.”

“No, we’re being serious, I promise,” Ashton says, smirking. “You’re getting us drinks next just to make sure.”

“No, I don’t think I will,” Rory replies, squinting. “Besides, I think you’re wrong.”

“Well, there’s no way to prove it if you don’t go back,” Ashton teases. “Don’t you want to know if a professional hockey player is checking you out.”

“I really think I’m good,” Rory sighs.

“Weren’t you just complaining to us about your lack of dating life? This is a great chance to turn things around,” Shea says, smiling widely.

“I really hate all of you and I have no clue why we’re friends,” Rory groans.

“Look, it’s worth a shot, isn’t it?” Blair inquires.

“Why do you say that like I’m going to go talk to them?” Rory whispers intently. “Because I’m not going to.”

Ashton rolls their eyes. “Fine, I guess. But it’s your loss. I was thinking you could at least badger him into buying our drinks or something.”

“Please, as if we don’t already get a discount for coming here all the fucking time,” Rory laughs. “Besides, I don’t think that a professional hockey player would want to date someone who’s idea of a Friday night is to go try new bar food.”

“You say that like this is a bad thing,” Blair jokes. “But we won’t push it if you really don’t want us to.”

“Look, maybe he checked me out, but that means nothing,” Rory says. “It just makes me feel kind of weird, I guess.”

“We’ll leave it alone then,” Shea replies firmly.

They spend the rest of the night joking around, and start to head out. As Rory is grabbing her purse, ready to catch up with her friends who are already at the door, she hears a faint hello. She turns around and sees one of the Avs players, presumably the one her friends said was checking her out.

“Oh, uh, hi,” Rory says awkwardly. “Did… did you need something?”

The guy blushes a little, which Rory admits is a little cute. “I just wanted to say hi and uh… maybe ask for your number?”

“I, uh,” Rory replies, taken off guard. “Going straight for it, huh? Not even going to ask my name?”

“Shit, that was… that was way too forward, wasn’t it?” the guy says, awkwardly laughing.

Rory smiles a little bit. “Yeah, just a little bit. I’m Rory, by the way. And what’s your name?”

“I’m Nate,” the guy replies, looking a little bit confused.

“It’s nice to meet you Nate. And as much as I would love to give you my number, I also don’t know anything about you,” Rory replies.

“So that’s… that’s a no?” he asks, looking a little defeated.

“My friends and I come here every Friday night. If you’re not busy next week, swing by with a couple of your friends,” Rory answers, giving him a small smile.

“Ah, you want to see if I pass the friend check first?” Nate inquires, smiling crookedly.

Rory nods. “See you around then?”

“I - yeah, of course,” Nate says faintly as Rory walks off.

She can feel herself internally screaming, unsure if what she did was smart or not. Even if Nate is a professional athlete, she still doesn’t know him, and giving her number to strangers doesn’t feel quite right. When she meets up with her friends outside, they’re all giving her inquisitive looks.

“So, did loverboy come over and talk to you?” Ashton inquires.

Rory blushes. “Yeah, he asked for my number, and I, uh, I didn’t give it to him? I just told him to meet us here next week if he was really interested.”

“Holy shit, that’s bold,” Shea says, smiling. “But like… not in a bad way. It’s probably for the best, if I’m being honest.”

“Making him work for it, I like it,” Blair comments, smiling.

Rory sighs loudly. “I’m not making him work for it, it’s just that I don’t like giving my number to people I don’t know.”

“Whatever you say,” Blair says, rolling her eyes a little bit. “Let’s just hope he shows up next week then.”

Throughout the next week, they find any chance to tease Rory about the upcoming Friday night. Not that any of this really surprised her, though, especially knowing that they’ve been there for all of her complaining about being single. They want this to be something good just as much as she does. When the day finally rolls around, they all keep giving her smirks, knowing what’s about to happen.

“You know, he might not even show up,” Rory points out as they pack up their things.

Ashton snorts. “Something tells me that he will.”

“If Ashton says so, then it must be true,” Shea says, smiling widely. “Hopefully he doesn’t keep us waiting too long.”

“You guys are the worst,” Rory mutters.

Everyone laughs as they start the familiar walk towards the bar. As much as she doesn’t want to admit it, Rory feels nervous. There’s a big part of her that feels like the previous week wasn’t even real, especially considering what a big shot Nate is in Denver. If he doesn’t show up, she tries to reason that it was a fluke and she has nothing to be hurt over. However, there’s also a small part of her that hopes it means something.

“So, like… did you even sort any details out with him besides coming here tonight?” Blair inquires, curious.

“Just decided to hope for the best,” Rory replies, shrugging. “Didn’t think it would be a big deal or anything.”

“Of course you wouldn’t,” Shea snickers. “And would you look at that - looks like he brought backup too.”

“Dear god,” Rory murmurs as she looks over at the entrance.

Nate looks around confused for a few moments before he spots Rory. He smiles brightly when he spots her, making Rory blush and sink down in her seat. Even though she knows that she’s the one who set this up, she still feels weird about it, unsure of what to really expect of tonight. Thankfully, her friends don’t say anything as he makes his way over.

“Good to see you didn’t bail out,” Nate says once he gets up to the table. “Mind if we grab a seat?”

“Might be more convenient than standing,” Rory jokes.

“I - okay, you have a point,” Nate says as his friends try to hold back their laughter.

“So, who are your friends?” Rory asks as they grab a seat.

“Oh, this is Gabe and Tyson,” Nate answers. “And… you all are?”

“These are my coworkers and, unfortunately, also my best friends,” Rory explains. “This is Shea, Ashton, and Blair.”

“Nice to meet all of you,” Nate says awkwardly.

There’s a few moments of silence where nobody quite knows what to say. To be honest, Rory didn’t actually plan for this because she wasn’t sure if Nate would actually show up tonight. She’s not quite sure how to break the silence, unsure of what to talk about.

“So, what do all of you do for work?” Gabe inquires, obviously looking for anything to talk about.

Things get a little bit easier after that, as they explain the work they do with LiDAR. They end up using the same explanation they use when schools tour their office - just a simple way to explore what’s underground using light. Rory gets the sense that a chunk of it is going over Nate and his friends’ heads, but they genuinely look interested in what’s happening. Something about that makes her feel a little bit more at ease, even if they aren’t totally getting it, they’re at least trying.

“And I mean, we’re a pretty ragtag group since this is kind of a weird field to end up in. So I guess it makes sense that we all just kind of clicked,” Shea explains.

“That must be nice,” Nate says, smiling softly.

“So, what do you do?” Ashton inquires, trying their hardest to not smile.

Rory rolls her eyes, knowing that Ashton is just trying to get them to talk a bit more.

“Oh, uh, we all play hockey for the Avalanche,” Nate answers, obviously taken a little bit off guard.

“Care to tell the class about what that means?” Blair asks. “Like… what’s that even like?”

Nate seems to loosen up a little as he gets to talk about something he’s obviously comfortable with. The rest of the night seems to pass quickly, and before Rory knows it, everyone starts heading out for the evening. Before she gets up from the table, though, she notices Nate giving her a questioning look.

“We’ll wait for you outside,” Shea says as he looks between the two of them. “If you’re not out in five minutes, I’ll come back inside, though.”

Rory nods and turns back to Nate. “Seems like you passed the friend check.”

“Oh, well, that’s good,” he replies, laughing nervously. “Does that mean I can get your number?”

“I suppose so,” Rory replies, trying to not laugh.

After exchanging numbers, they head out, and Rory’s friends are obviously interested in what happened. She rolls her eyes, knowing that they’re too nosy for their own good.

“We just exchanged numbers, that’s it,” Rory says. “Literally nothing else happened.”

“Like… no future dates planned?” Blair inquires, teasing.

“No,” Rory says. “I still barely know him.”

“But like… is that not the point of a date?” Shea replies, smiling.

“You’re all the worst, I can’t believe we’re friends,” Rory groans.

Ashton smiles widely. “Please, we’re the best. Who else would sit through an unofficial first date?”

“That’s not what this was!” Rory exclaims, blushing. “I don’t need you to chaperone me.”

“Sure, but we did it anyways,” Ashton snickers.

Rory rolls her eyes, but lets it drop. “Well, at least you’ll be the first to know if anything actually does happen.”

“We better be,” Blair laughs. “Anyways, I’ll see you all on Monday. Make sure to get some sleep because we all know how busy things are going to be next week.”

“Ugh, I don’t even want to think about it,” Ashton groans.

The group laughs as they all head their separate ways. When Rory gets back to her apartment, she knows she has to tell Piper, knowing that her friend is going to want to know everything. Piper has been there for everything, and if anyone would know what to do next, it would be her.

“Rory, what’s got you calling me so late?” Piper asks, teasing a little.

“So, uh, do you remember me telling you about the guy last week? I finally got his number,” Rory says. “And, uh, I’m only freaking out a little bit.”

Piper snorts. “Well, that’s a good start at least. Have you texted him at all yet?”

“Uh, no?” Rory replies. “What would I even say?”

“Maybe ask if he had a good night or whatever,” Piper says, obviously trying to not laugh.

“I- fuck, you’re probably right,” Rory mutters.

“But honestly, you don’t need to make it a thing right away. And that’s probably the right way to go, you know?”

“So… just be friends? I feel like he wanted my number for a date.”

“Sure, but also as your best friend, I know you don’t like dating people you don’t really know either. If it’s a big deal, then it’s whatever.”

“That’s easy for you to say, Piper.”

“Maybe, but there’s no harm in taking things slow. Besides, you said he was a professional athlete, right? The dude could pick anyone to hang out with on a Friday night and he picked you. I really think you’re fine.”

“I really hate when you’re the voice of reason,” Rory groans.

Rory laughs. “It has to happen sometimes. But seriously, I would stress about it, and just play it casual. There’s no reason to force yourself to do something you’re not ready to do.”

“I want to be ready, though,” Rory whispers. “I’ve been complaining about this ever since I moved to Denver.”

“Whatever happens, it’ll all be okay. Just keep me in the loop, okay?” Piper says. “Now go drink some water and go to bed.”

“Thank you Piper,” Rory says softly. “I miss you.”

“I miss you, too. I’ll talk to you soon,” Piper replies before hanging up.

Rory sighs, but does what Piper said. After chugging down a glass of water, she sends a quick text to Nate asking what he thought of the night before promptly deciding to pass out. She’s not even sure if he’s still awake, but it’s better to just get it over with.

When she wakes up, Rory immediately checks her phone, but doesn’t see a reply. She shrugs it off, assuming he’s still asleep. As the day goes on, she gets more nervous at the lack of reply, but tries to not think anything of it. Professional athletes have weird schedules, so she blames it on that. Turns out, she’s right when he replies later that afternoon.

Hey, sorry for not replying earlier, I barely made it to practice on time :(

No!!! Don’t worry about it, I can’t imagine having to go to work right now lmao

I had a great time though!! I really liked your friends and I’m glad I got to meet them

I’ll be sure to tell them, hopefully their ego doesn’t get to big

Fingers crossed lmao

Would you maybe want to hang out again sometime? Or I can invite you to a game or something

…is now the time to be honest that I don’t know that much about hockey

Is that why you didn’t know who I was that first night?

Yeah it would be 😅

Rip looks like I lost that bet. But it wouldn’t be a deal breaker! Just have to have you come to a game so you can learn :)

I’m sold then 👀 Can’t wait to be confused the whole time skfjsdf

Would any of your coworkers want to come? We actually have a game Friday night, and I’m guessing that you’re all usually free then

I’ll have to check to see if they won’t be too mad at messing up our bar ritual. I’m sure they’ll agree though!

Let me know asap so I can get you tickets

omg no don’t worry about that, we can get our own tickets

I can get you all good tickets though :)

…fine

Rory rolls her eyes, but she smiles a little bit. She’s excited that Nate is including her friends in plans like this because they’re important to her. And she also wants to make sure that they like anyone she’s interested in as well. Before she forgets, Rory sends a text to the group chat asking if they’d be up for the game the following week.

By the end of the day, they all agreed, and she lets Nate know immediately. He sends a smiley face back, and says that their tickets will be at the front office. Despite knowing that she won’t see him at all that day, she still feels nervous. There’s something about it that feels like he’s letting her into a part of his life, even though it’s such a public position of his.

Before she forgets, she lets Piper know, who promptly screams about how excited she is. Knowing that one of her best friends seems to approve of him - even in a vague way - helps reassure Rory just a little bit more.

Despite the large workload, the week passes by quickly, and before Rory knows it, it’s Friday night, and she’s headed to Pepsi Center. She feels nervous, and it doesn’t help that her friends have been teasing her all week. Even though she knows she won’t be seeing Nate after the game, she still feels the need to impress him somehow.

“Come on, the dude gave you fucking tickets to watch him play. I think he wants to impress you,” Shea points out as they grab their seats.

“I’m not so sure about that,” Rory mumbles. “I feel like he doesn’t need to do much.”

“I mean, you were the one who turned him down the first time,” Blair replies, smirking.

“Yeah, I’m sure he doesn’t get that often,” Ashton says. “Like, the dude probably hasn’t heard ‘no’ for a while.”

“Have I told you that you’re all the worst?” Rory jokes. “But seriously, this feels like a lot when we still barely know each other.”

“Okay, but also consider that he has money. Like this was probably nothing for him,” Ashton says.

“You know, this really isn’t making anything better,” Rory groans. “It’s just making me even more anxious.”

Blair tugs her into a side hug. “Look, I’m sure he just wants to show off a little bit. And he also probably gets some allotted tickets or something. Just don’t sweat it too much.”

“But if he’s willing to give us more tickets…” Shea jokes.

“We’ve officially hung out once, you guys,” Rory groans. “I don’t even know if I can consider him a friend.”

“Whatever you say,” Shea replies, trying to not smile.

Thankfully, they all move onto lighter subjects after, and get lost in conversation until the game starts. Rory had asked Nate some questions about the game throughout the week, but she’s still lost as she gets lost in the action. Sure, she understands the basics of it, but there’s moments where she’s not quite sure what just happened.

Towards the end of the second period, Nate scores a goal and Rory cheers loudly. It’s almost over as quick as it started, but he points over to where she’s sitting, making her blush and sink down into her seat. Her friends don’t even try to hide their laughter at the whole situation.

“Maybe he just always points over here,” Rory mumbles.

“Something tells me that he doesn’t,” Blair replies, still laughing.

Rory rolls her eyes before turning her focus back onto the game. Thankfully, the rest of the game passes without incident, and the Avs end up winning. She sends Nate a quick congratulatory text, as well as saying that she really enjoyed the game. He doesn’t respond, which she figured would be the case, so she tucks her phone back into her pocket.

“Are you sure you’re not meeting up with him after?” Ashton inquires. “We won’t tease you too much about ditching us for him.”

“Yeah, he said he’s usually pretty tired after evening games and isn’t much for conversation,” Rory replies. “Not that I can really blame him.”

“That’s a shame,” Shea sighs. “I was really hoping we’d have something fun to bet on.”

“You wouldn’t dare bet on that,” Rory accuses, squinting a little.

“Oh, he most definitely would. It’s a normal thing, unfortunately,” Blair replies. “But that’s understandable. Hopefully you can catch him some other time.”

Rory shrugs. “I’m sure we will.”

When Rory gets home, she checks her phone and sees that Nate sent a smiley face and a simple call me? She hesitates for a moment, before deciding to hit the call button.

“Hey,” Nate greets after a few moments. “I’m really glad you came tonight.”

“Yeah, I had an amazing time. It was a lot more fun than I was expecting,” Rory replies.

“I’m really sorry that we couldn’t hang out for longer, but I wouldn’t want to fall asleep on you,” Nate explains. “But if you’re free this weekend, maybe we can get lunch or something.”

“I - yeah, that would be really nice, actually. Do you have a preference for which day?”

“Uh, I guess Sunday would work. I can text you a time and place.”

“That would be really nice,” Rory says softly. “I’ll see you then.”

They sit on the phone for a couple seconds in silence, neither quite sure what to say. Rory doesn’t want the call to end, but she doesn’t want to keep Nate up too long.

“Can I ask why you didn’t give me your number that first night? I know you said you wanted me to pass the friend check but…” Nate inquires, hesitant.

“I mean, I didn’t really know who you were. I just felt kind of weird giving my number to some strange guy I briefly talked to at the bar,” Rory answers.

“Oh, I… yeah, that makes sense,” Nate says. “And Sunday, would it be a date? Or just friends?”

Rory pauses for a moment to think. She wants it to be a date, but she also knows that it would give Nate the wrong idea. As much as she wants to have a partner, she also knows that she just needs a little more time to be sure of herself and her emotions.

“Just friends, if that’s okay,” Rory whispers. “If that’s not what you were hoping for, I’m sorry. It’s just… I want to be friends first before anything else.”

“Of course that’s okay,” Nate replies. “Doesn’t change a thing.”

Rory frowns a little. “If you’re sure.”

“I’m very sure. I wouldn’t say it otherwise.”

“I - okay then,” Rory replies. “I should let you go to bed.”

“See you Sunday then,” Nate says, smiling, before hanging up.

Much to Rory’s surprise, Sunday went well. Things weren’t weird, something she was fully expecting to happen, but lunch passed by quickly. They ended up making tentative plans to hang out again soon, with Nate making it very clear there were no expectations attached. Knowing that, Rory started to feel more and more comfortable around him.

“I don’t know what to say to you except that it tore the heart out of my body saying goodbye to you.” — Vita Sackville-West

To be honest, Rory never really expected to become such good friends with Nate, as well as some of his friends by extension. Over the last several months, they’ve gotten close, but never spoke of a possibility of furthering their relationship. As much as she wants to bring it up, Rory also is perfectly content with keeping things the way they are.

However, there’s moments when she wonders if she should say something. Sometimes, she’ll see Nate giving her a look or a certain smile that just makes her think. And he was very adamant in the beginning that if they were to ever date, it would be at her pace. So maybe he’s waiting for her to say something, but Rory doesn’t have the heart to ruin a perfectly good friendship.

“You know, I really feel like he feels the same way. I don’t see the harm in doing something about it,” Blair says one Friday night. “I mean, you have the dude wrapped around your finger.”

“I just want to be sure,” Rory says firmly.

“You know what would make you completely sure? Asking him out,” Ashton replies. “Like, you’re in a perfect spot right now.”

“And I really doubt he would be mean about it either,” Shea points out. “Plus, you’ve been saying how you wanted to be friends first before doing anything. And now what are you?”

“Ugh,” Rory groans. “Just give me some time, okay? I’ll do it when I’m ready.”

Blair frowns. “If you say so.”

“I do say so,” Rory replies. “Besides, if I fuck this up, we won’t get anymore free hockey tickets. Then what?”

“Then we don’t go to hockey games. Like, we’re going because they’re fun, but most importantly because Nate has become someone important to you,” Ashton answers.

“I promise I’ll say something when I’m ready,” Rory whispers. “Just drop it, please.”

“Okay,” Shea says, obviously unsure. “We’ll have your back no matter what you decide.”

“Thank you,” Rory replies. “Now, what’s everyone’s plans for Valentine’s day this year? Because Nate invited us to a game if nobody has anything going on.”

“You want us to drop the subject but then you immediately tell us that Nate invited us to a Valentine’s day game?” Ashton exclaims.

“I - you know what, shut up,” Rory groans. “He’s friends with all of us, okay?”

“Mhm, I’m sure of that,” Shea mutters.

“Maybe I’ll just take the tickets then,” Rory retorts.

“I’m sure he would appreciate that,” Blair whispers, smirking.

“Good lord, do you want the tickets or not?” Rory asks, exasperated.

“I guess we can go,” Shea answers, acting put out.

“Oh, I guess we can go,” Rory mocks. “Jesus, you can just say yes.”

Ashton smiles widely. “But that’s not as fun.”

“Whatever you say,” Rory says, rolling her eyes.

Later that night, Rory texts Nate, saying that everyone is in for the game the following week. He sends back a smiley face and a thumbs up in return. She sighs as she gets ready for bed, thinking over what her friends had told her earlier that night.

She knows that she doesn’t have much to lose in confessing her feelings, but she also knows how busy Nate is. He’s especially focused now with playoffs coming up in a couple of months, and she knows that most of his time is spent at practice or doing something hockey related. Not that she can really blame him, she knows how hard he works, especially being a face of the franchise.

Even Piper has told her that he makes time for her now as a friend, and if he seems to feel the same way, he would definitely make time for her as a girlfriend. But something about it feels selfish to Rory in a way that she can’t explain. So, she decides to wait until the playoffs are over to say anything, and at the very least, it’ll give her more time to feel confident in her confession.

Before she knows it, she and her friends are off to Pepsi Center for the Valentine’s day game. Since this is an afternoon game, Nate agreed to meet up with them after at their usual bar with a couple of his friends. With none of them having plans, they all agreed they could all commiserate together. At the very least, it would feel less lonely than normal.

Something Rory didn’t tell the group is that they got seats right behind the Avs for today's game. She hesitated saying anything, knowing that her friends wouldn’t shut up about it. But maybe that was a bad decision because once they got to their seats and made themselves comfortable, everyone turned towards Rory. She groans, knowing exactly where the conversation has headed. As much as they laid off the teasing about Nate, she also knew they wanted the best for her.

“So, like, nothing has changed in the last week, right?” Blair inquires. “Nothing we should know about?”

“No, Nate just wanted to get us good seats for today,” Rory grumbles. “This is why I didn’t say anything.”

“Oh so you knew that we would be getting good seats today,” Ashton replies, inquisitive. “I’m starting to think that you’re lying to us.”

“I swear I’m not lying!” Rory exclaims. “He just wanted to do something nice for all of us. Because we’re all his friends.”

“Sure, whatever you say,” Shea replies, smiling.

The game goes by in a blur, and before Rory knows it, they're off to the bar. Thankfully, her friends only tease her a couple more times before laying off. As much as she knows they mean well, it still gets a little tiring not hearing the end of it. When they get to the bar, things are fairly slow, especially considering what day it is.

“So, did you have fun?” Nate inquires as he comes to sit with them at their usual table.

“It was fun, but it would have been even better if Rory told us we got better seats today,” Shea answers, giving Rory a look.

“I wanted it to be a surprise,” Rory groans. “How many times will I have to tell you this?”

Shea snorts. “You know we’ll never let you live it down. But it was seriously a good game.”

“Good, I’m glad you guys had fun,” Nate replies, smiling softly.

As the night starts to pass, Rory feels herself look at Nate more than she wants to admit. But it’s hard not to - he just naturally demands attention. Whenever she catches herself looking too long, she does her best to look away and not think about all of her feelings. As much as it pains her, she’s going to keep true to her promise of not saying anything about them quite yet.

By the time everyone is heading out of the bar, Blair holds onto Rory’s arm, holding her back. Rory gives her a questioning look, but quickly picks up that Blair wants to say something. They wave off the rest of the group, and finally get a moment alone.

“Are you really not going to say how you feel, Rory? You can’t keep quiet forever,” Blair says.

“I - yeah, I’m not going to say anything. It’s just… things are hard for him right now with the playoffs coming up and I don’t want to get in the way of that,” Rory replies.

Blair frowns a little bit. “I have a feeling it wouldn’t be as bad as you’re making it out to be.”

“I’m sure you’re right, but I feel too guilty doing anything,” Rory sighs. “Just let me say something in my own time, okay?”

“Okay,” Blair says hesitantly. “If that’s what you want.”

“It is what I want,” Rory says, much more firmly than she feels.

~ ~ ~

And as much as it pains Rory to do so, she doesn’t say anything all through the lead up to playoffs. Blair keeps giving her looks, but never says anything, knowing that there’s no changing Rory’s mind now. Besides, if Nate turns her down, she has a whole summer away from him to recover from the rejection. She’s just doing her best to keep herself safe at this point.

It’s mid-April now and the playoffs are starting to ramp up, and Rory is hanging out with Nate on a rare afternoon where they’re both free. She’s savoring it as much as she can, knowing that his free time is especially thin now. Nate hasn’t made it to a Friday night bar trip in weeks, and Rory has mostly watched him from afar at games.

“I feel bad that we’ve hardly seen each other lately,” Nate says as he pulls up some random nature documentary.

“You’re busy, Nate,” Rory replies. “I’m not exactly expecting to be a priority right now.”

Nate frowns. “I… that sounds so bad when you put it that way.”

“It’s true, though,” Rory says, shrugging. “And I’m not really hurt by it. I know you and the other guys have a lot to prove this year.”

“I just feel bad about it,” Nate whispers.

“You warned me that this would happen. I can’t exactly be mad that what you said would happen is happening.”

“You’re right, but it doesn’t make me happy.”

“But we’re here now. And I really don’t mind that you forget to text back sometimes,” Rory laughs. “As long as you don’t completely forget about me.”

“I would never,” Nate snorts. “Besides, your friends make it hard to forget anything.”

“And that’s what makes them loveable.”

“Unfortunately,” Nate replies, smiling softly. “Ugh, as much as I love being in the playoffs, it sucks that I don’t get more days like this.”

Rory gives him a curious look. “What, watching random nature documentaries?”

“No, just hanging out with my friends,” Nate says, laughing.

“Huh, didn’t know you had a chill bone in you during the playoffs,” Rory teases.

“Oh my god, I hate you,” Nate groans.

“I’m sure you do,” Rory replies, smiling.

They pass the rest of the afternoon teasing each other, hardly paying attention to anything that plays on the TV. There’s a moment where she wants to say something, put everything out in the open, but it would be the end of everything if she was being honest. So, she keeps quiet, and tries to squash down her feelings.

“Well, I’ll see you soon, I hope,” Rory says as she gets ready to head out. “And don’t forget to text me back.”

Nate smiles softly. “I’ll do my best.”

“I suppose that’s the best I can ask for,” Rory sighs, smiling back. “And good luck on your game on Monday. You’ve been working hard for it.”

“I’ll win it for you,” Nate says softly.

There’s a brief moment where their eyes connect, and Rory thinks about leaning in and kissing him, but she looks away before she makes a mistake. By the time she glances back over, the moment is broken, lost to the short moment of hesitation. She wonders what would have happened if she kissed him, but tries to not think about the what-ifs.

“Alright, I’ll catch you around,” Rory says softly as she heads out.

“Uh, yeah, see you around,” Nate replies awkwardly.

As Rory drives home, she sighs deeply. She feels a twinge of regret at not doing anything, especially with an opportunity like what she had. But rushing it and saying something when she wasn’t ready feels even worse, even though she’s been ready for longer than she wants to admit. As much as she wants to talk to Piper or Blair about what happened, she knows that they would just be confused.

The one thing that keeps her calm is just waiting for the end of the playoffs to happen. And with how well the Avs are doing right now, it might be through the Stanley Cup finals. Rory does her best to make peace with it, knowing that she inflicted it upon herself. Besides, she’s been waiting this long to say something, a couple more months wouldn’t seem like much.

Except the following months seem to pass by like dripping honey. Even with all the things that are piling up at work, Rory finds herself having a hard time focusing. Nate barely replies to her texts anymore, and the responses are usually just smiley faces. It hurts more than she wants to admit to anyone, but her friends pick up on it right away.

“What’s going on with you?” Ashton inquires one Friday night. “You’ve been like… super out of it lately.”

“I - this is going to sound so dumb,” Rory mumbles. “It’s just Nate hasn’t been replying a lot lately, but he’s busy with the Avs right now.”

“Like… he’s just ignoring you?” Blair asks.

“I mean, I guess? But he replies to things eventually, even if it takes a little while,” Rory explains.

“There’s more to it than that, isn’t there?” Shea says. “Don’t forget we can read you like a book, Rory.”

Rory sighs deeply. “I mean, it’s just his replies have been super short, like just emoji responses. I don’t think I’ve gotten an actual word from him since the end of April.”

“That’s actually kind of shitty,” Ashton replies, frowning. “Like, you guys are friends, you think he could respond with something.”

“He’s busy though,” Rory whispers.

“Too busy to send a short text with words to one of his friends?” Blair asks, raising an eyebrow. “I really fucking doubt it, babe.”

“Shit, you’re probably right, but he told me this would happen,” Rory groans.

Blair gives her a look. “That doesn’t make it any better, you know.”

“Yeah, I feel like that makes it even worse,” Shea replies, frowning deeply. “Who the fuck doesn’t reply to their friends?”

“He’s just got a lot going on! I’m sure things will be better soon,” Rory says weakly. “Right?”

“I don’t know, Rory,” Ashton answers weakly. “Maybe just be a bit more firm with him next time. Like he has to reply with words at some point.”

“I guess so,” Rory mumbles.

“If he doesn’t, I’ll personally kick his ass,” Shea replies brightly.

“There’s no way you could take him on,” Rory says, squinting. “I love you, but there’s no way you would beat him in a fight.”

“That’s what you all think, and it’s why I would win,” Shea jokes.

Rory rolls her eyes, snorting. “If that’s what you want to believe.”

“Of course,” Shea replies, smiling brightly.

Things get a little bit easier after that, but there’s still a distinct silence from Nate. As much as Rory wants to wave it off and not be hurt by it, she is. She’s starting to miss the smiley faces at this point because at least then, she knew that he was seeing her messages. But now… now she’s not really sure what to think.

She ends up calling Piper, knowing that her friend will get what she’s going through. And she also doesn’t want her friends in Denver to worry more than they already are about the whole situation.

“Honestly, I don’t think there’s much else you can do unless you want to barge into his apartment,” Piper says after Rory explains everything.

“I can’t do that,” Rory replies, frowning. “I don’t want to force him to hang out when he doesn’t want to.”

“Well, he’s not responding to anything, stopping by won’t hurt anyone,” Piper suggests. “I mean, you’ve been there before.”

“That’s just different,” Rory sighs. “Maybe this is his way of saying he doesn’t want to be friends anymore.”

“Something tells me that you’re wrong about that,” Piper says. “I mean, you said everything was fine the last time you hung out together, right?”

“Yeah,” Rory answers. “Like, I knew he was busy and he said he would try to not drop off the map, but…”

Piper snorts. “That obviously didn’t work out. But are you sure you can’t just stop by or something?”

“It feels like a step too far,” Rory whispers. “Like, I don’t want to seem desperate for attention or anything. I knew he was going to be busy and that I wouldn’t be a top priority, you know?”

“I - shit, that doesn’t sound great,” Piper says. “Maybe just give it until after the playoffs. If he doesn’t say anything afterwards, it’s definitely time to move on.”

Rory sighs. “You’re right. I just feel like I fucked up somewhere and I don’t know how.”

“To be honest, I don’t think there’s anything you could have done differently.”

“I suppose so.”

“Look, I’ll be here anytime you need something, no matter how stupid it sounds. Take care of yourself, babe,” Piper says. “Now, tell me about work? What’s the new hot gossip?”

The conversation moves on to lighter topics and Rory feels lighter after hanging up. She’s still worried about Nate, but there’s nothing she can do about it all now. Whatever happens next, Rory still has her friends and that’s what matters the most, even if she wishes it could turn out a bit differently.

As the weeks drag on, Rory still hears nothing from Nate. It starts to hurt less the more she accepts that he’s never going to respond. Piper suggests going to his place again, but it feels wrong intruding on Nate when they haven’t spoken in months. He’s giving clear enough signs at this point that he wants to be left alone.

It’s early June when Rory hears about the Avs winning the Stanley Cup. She’s happy for them, for Nate, even if they haven’t had a single conversation in ages. They worked hard for this and deserve the numerous celebrations that’ll be coming in the following days.

There’s a moment of hesitation Rory has about sending a congratulatory text to Nate. She’s not sure if it would come off as weird or anything, but she decides to send something anyways. Despite everything, Rory wants Nate to know that she’s proud of him and how hard he’s worked to get this. The silence in the following days isn’t surprising, but something about it still hurts Rory.

“It’s because you care too much,” Blair says at their usual Friday night ritual, smiling sadly. “And he had a chance to say anything, but he didn’t.”

“I don’t know what I was hoping for,” Rory whispers.

“Maybe you were hoping for him to be a decent person,” Ashton snorts. “You’ve given him more chances than he deserves.”

“Like I’ve said before, I’ll kick his ass,” Shea offers. “Dude probably deserves to be knocked down a peg or two.”

“I appreciate it, but he deserves this,” Rory says. “He’s worked hard.”

“Worked harder at breaking your heart though,” Ashton mutters.

Rory rolls her eyes. “It’s fine, I really should have expected this from the start, if I’m being honest. I was pushing my luck even being his friend.”

“No, I don’t think you were,” Blair says firmly. “He was lucky to have you in his life at all.”

“Yeah, he’s the one losing out,” Shea says, smiling.

“You guys are the best,” Rory whispers. “I’m sure I’ll forget about him after the summer is over. Lord knows we have our work cut out for us with all these new jobs.”

“I don’t even want to think about it,” Shea groans.

“Aren’t you the one handing out all the work?” Ashton teases. “I don’t think you have the right to complain about this.”

“Please don’t remind me,” Shea sighs.

Thankfully, the conversation moves past Nate, something Rory is incredibly grateful for. Whatever this summer holds, hopefully getting over him is in the cards for her, even if it pains Rory to think that. There’s no point left in worrying about someone who doesn’t care to respond to her texts as much as she wants to.

Rory’s workload over the summer piles up, which is to be expected for this time of year. Summer is always busy, especially with all of the interns coming through the office. She tries to help them as much as she can, but it makes for some long days. Even though it leaves her exhausted, it also lets her slowly get over the initial hurt of Nate. Besides, she remembers being in their shoes and it’s the least she can do to be nice to them.

By the time October and the start of a new NHL season roll around, Rory feels less bitter and far removed from the whole thing with Nate. But there’s still a small part of her that’s filled with regret and longing for what could have been. She would be lying if she didn’t think about all the things she could have done differently, but didn’t out of fear. It’s too late to change things now, though, and she does her best to not think about it in her weakest moments.

“You know, I never realized how much they plaster Nate’s face all over the city until this year,” Shea comments one Friday night. “Like… do we really need to be seeing his face that much.”

Rory snorts. “You sound more mad about it than I do.”

“Yeah, because you won’t let yourself be upset,” Ashton points out.

“Because I’m not upset,” Rory replies, rolling her eyes. “I promise I’m over him, okay? Like, it wasn’t going to go anywhere.”

“Uh huh, sure it wasn’t,” Blair says, giving Rory a pointed look.

“Look, it’s been months at this point, I don’t have anything to be hung up on,” Rory groans. “Do you want me to prove it or something?”

“Yeah, actually,” Shea says. “Like… are you over him enough to go to a hockey game?”

Rory squints a bit at him. “Are you challenging me?”

“Maybe so,” Shea replies, smiling. “So… how does next week sound?”

“Let me guess, you already got tickets?” Rory inquires.

“You would be right,” Shea answers, smirking. “If any of us catch you longingly staring at him, it’s game over and we’ll have a proper night to drown out our sorrows.”

Rory sighs. “Fine, I guess.”

As the game day approaches, Rory can feel herself growing more and more nervous. While she feels confident about the fact that she’s gotten over the worst of it, she’s not sure how she feels about seeing Nate. Seeing him in person feels odd - especially at a game, where she only ever went to specifically see Nate. But she does her best to assure herself that she’s strong enough to get through one game.

When they grab their seats the following week, Rory doesn’t feel much better. She knows her friends can tell, but they’re being kind enough to not say anything. If anything, Rory wants to prove to herself that she can get through this without being weird about the whole situation. Besides, their seats are rather far back and she tries to reason that it’ll make things easier.

However, she turns out to be very, very wrong when Rory sees the players skate to their bench before the game starts. Her heart drops and feels a twinge of panic seep through her bones. Even though she knows that there’s no way Nate will know they’re here at a game, she fears that he’ll just know and get angry for intruding.

“Are you going to be okay?” Blair whispers.

“I - I think so,” Rory answers softly. “I need to get through this for myself.”

“It’s not too late to leave, it’s really not that big of a deal,” Blair reasons. “I promise none of us will be mad if this is too much.”

“I just - I want to show myself that what happened isn’t that big of a deal, okay?” Rory replies firmly.

Blair frowns. “Okay, but if it gets too much…”

“I’ll let you know,” Rory says, smiling softly.

As the game goes on, Rory can feel herself feeling more comfortable with seeing Nate. Something about seeing him just helps seal the deal, and Rory decides that he’s not worth being sad over as much as her heart says otherwise. By the time it’s over and everyone is leaving the game, she feels a bit lighter.

“So… how are we feeling?” Ashton inquires innocently.

Rory smiles. “I think I’ll be fine.”

“I mean, I hope you’re happy, But the sky is still the sky without you, And I’m not surprised by that anymore.” — Caitlyn Siehl

As the months pass and as Rory makes it through another Denver winter, she starts to forget about Nate. There’s still times where she thinks about the possibilities, but she’s moved on and passed the worst of it. She has other things to worry about, like a new promotion at work and trying to catch up with all of the new responsibilities that come with it.

“Who the hell decided that I was the best person to be put in charge of the interns?” Rory groans one early spring morning.

“You helped them anyways, we just decided to make it official,” Shea snorts. “Now you officially get to be the mother hen.”

“Have I told you that I hate you?” Rory teases.

Shea lets out a loud laugh. “It’s been a whole week, I’m proud of you.”

“Thanks,” Rory says sarcastically, rolling her eyes. “God, I never realized how many fucking applications we got. How the hell am I supposed to choose?”

“Drunk darts?” Ashton suggests as they pass by Rory’s desk.

“The fact that I briefly considered that…” Rory says, sighing. “I might take a look at them on Monday because I feel like my brain is melting.”

“Welcome to the club!” Ashton replies cheerily. “At least today is Friday and we can all drown our sorrows together.”

“Cheers to that,” Rory sighs.

By the time they get to the bar that night, Rory feels completely exhausted. She loves her work, but her newfound responsibilities have been a lot to try and handle. It only made the Friday night ritual all the more welcome and she had an even better understanding why her friends started it in the first place.

“You know, I never expected to be in this position when I graduated,” Rory remarks.

“What, working in the field you specialized in?” Blair inquires, confused.

“No, like...being in a place I genuinely enjoyed working at. I feel like it’s such a long shot and I never expected to stay here this long,” Rory explains.

“Well, it just means you were meant to end up here,” Ashton says smiling.

“I suppose so,” Rory replies, smiling softly.

None of them process the door opening until Shea starts frowning a little bit. Rory turns a little to look, and feels herself freeze a little when she spots Nate. She spins back and tries to not think about how they're in the same space again for the first time in months.

“Fancy seeing him again,” Shea remarks bitterly. “Can I punch him if he comes over here?”

“We’re not getting kicked out of our favorite bar,” Rory groans.

“Fine, I guess,” Shea sighs. “Only for you, though.”

“Only because I’m here, right?” Rory asks, giving him a stern look.

“No, most definitely not,” Shea answers, trying to not smile.

“Whatever, we’re ignoring them,” Rory says. “I want to have a good time and it doesn’t involve him.”

“Even if he’s staring us down?” Ashton inquires, trying to be quiet.

“Please tell me he’s not,” Rory groans.

“Unfortunately he is,” Blair responds, with a hint of bitterness. “You know what, maybe it’s time we change up bars, try something new.”

“But we’ve been coming here for years, I don’t want to leave just because that asshole is here,” Shea complains. “I don’t want to hunt for another one!”

“Maybe it’s just for one night,” Rory says weakly.

“Do you think the bartenders like us enough to kick out several NHL players?” Ashton inquires innocently. “I mean… I know they have money, but we’re also like… regulars.”

“Might be a long shot,” Blair answers, sighing a little bit.

“He’s still staring at us,” Ashton mumbles. “I kind of just want to leave. Maybe we can stop by the diner right down the road instead.”

“Maybe that can be our thing for a couple weeks to throw him off our trail for a bit,” Shea replies. “And also so I don’t punch him.”

Blair snickers. “That sounds like a solid plan. Let’s go.”

As they head out, Rory chances a glance over at Nate. He’s watching them leave with a frown on his face. Before he gets any ideas on coming over, she looks away, trying her best to seem closed off. Thankfully, it doesn’t seem as if he follows them, so she relaxes as they walk over to the diner.

“This feels weird,” Rory comments as they grab a booth in the back corner. “But I’m glad to be away from him.”

“Do you think he would have tried to talk to you?” Blair asks, concerned.

Rory shrugs. “I mean, maybe, but I don’t see why he would bother at this point. I haven’t seen him in almost a year now.”

“Maybe he’s just now realizing what he lost,” Ashton suggests hopefully.

“Well, it’s staying lost,” Rory snorts. “I really can’t be bothered to fix things with him. He’s had time to say something, but he hasn’t.”

“You really wouldn’t give him a second chance?” Shea asks, raising an eyebrow.

Rory pauses for a moment. “I want to say no, and I think I would in terms of a romantic relationship. But… he was a good friend and it was sad losing him in that sense, you know? And I would want him to work on himself too. Like, I can’t have him dropping off the face of the planet again.”

“I get that,” Blair says softly, smiling sadly. “Maybe one day.”

“Maybe,” Rory sighs. “But also, I think we were headed for heartbreak, there was no other option. I mean… we’re two very different people.”

“But you worked well together,” Shea said. “And that’s the saddest part about all of this.”

Rory shrugs. “It’s over now. There’s no point in caring anymore.”

They end up changing subjects, sensing that Rory is truly done thinking about Nate. Seeing him outside of a hockey game was a weird experience and everyone felt a little bit off balance from it. By the end of the night, Rory feels better, and tries to push any thought of him aside. Whatever reason he came to the bar tonight, she hoped he got the message - that Rory no longer needed him in her life.

The following morning when Rory checks her phone, she feels herself freeze. Looking right back at her is a text from Nate. She hesitates before opening, knowing that whatever it says can’t be good. There’s a moment where she thinks about deleting the message and blocking him, but her curiosity gets the best of her.

I was hoping to talk to you last night, but it looks like you were busy. Maybe we could meet up some other time to clear things up?

Rory can’t help but to laugh. After a year, Nate finally wants to talk? The audacity he has thinking that Rory will just talk to him willingly after everything is too much for her to handle. He’s had plenty of opportunities to fix things, but going about it this way just makes everything even worse.

No, I think I’m good. You made it very clear where I stand in your life.

Rory tosses her phone to the side before seeing if Nate replies at all. Whatever he has to say to her won’t change her mind, not now. Before she can think anymore, she grabs her phone again to call Piper. It’s been a long time since they’ve talked, but Rory trusts her the most right now, knowing that her friend will be the solid voice of reason right now.

“Something tells me something is up if you’re calling me this early on a Saturday,” Piper jokes. “Normally you’re hungover at this point.”

“You’re the worst,” Rory groans. “But you’re right.”

“I’m always here for you. Now, tell me all about it,” Piper replies.

“Well, uh, Nate finally texted me after a whole fucking year asking if we could talk,” Rory says bitterly. “And this dude had the audacity to stop by the bar last night. We ended up leaving because of him.”

“I can fly down and punch him if you want me to,” Piper suggests.

Rory snorts. “I think that Shea is first in line for that.”

“We can take turns then,” Piper says, smirking. “But seriously, how are you dealing with that? Have you blocked him?”

“I - no, not yet,” Rory answers. “I told him it was too late to fix anything.”

“So… just ignore him after this. Unless you want to talk to him.”

“I don’t know if I’m ready for that. There’s so much I want to say to him, but I never thought that it would be like… an actual option.”

“Then just think about it. And he can wait for as long as you need him to. It’s what he deserves after dropping you like he did.”

“I feel like that’s letting him win, though,” Rory whispers.

“There’s no winning in situations like this, especially if you let him feel all of your anger and frustrations. What he did was shitty and wrong, and he deserves to know all of that before he does it to someone else,” Piper explains. “And I know how worthless it made you feel.”

“I didn’t -” Rory tries to say.

“Don’t you dare say that you didn’t feel that way. You called me crying multiple times that summer. He hurt you and he deserves to know that,” Piper says firmly. “That is, if you even want to talk to him.”

“I don’t know,” Rory says softly. “I don’t want to give him the satisfaction of talking again, but I also want to let him know how shitty he made me feel.”

“Maybe that’s all that needs to happen. One conversation doesn’t mean you’re letting him back into your life. It can maybe help put an end to this part of your life.”

“You’re right, you’re right.”

Piper sighs. “I’m sorry you had to see him again, though. I can’t imagine what that all felt like.”

“I’m just lucky I was with friends,” Rory replies. “But thank you, Piper, this helped a lot.”

“Keep me updated, okay? I want to know if I need to knock some teeth out,” Piper jokes.

Rory snorts. “Of course.”

Once they’ve hung up, Rory quickly checks her phone to see if Nate has replied. He still hasn’t, so she decides to continue on with her morning, trying to not think of him. As right as Piper is about having a conversation to try and put an end to anything having to do with Nate, the thought scares her. She knows that there’s a very real possibility that she lets him into her life again, knowing that she misses his friendship.

But she doesn’t want to let herself give in so easily. Nate hurt Rory in ways that she feels like she’s still recovering from. It’s terrifying that he was able to hurt her like this, and the more she thinks about it over breakfast, the more comfortable she gets with telling him all of this, as long as it’s on her terms.

She ignores her phone for the rest of the day and decides to focus on cleaning her apartment instead. It’s been a while since it’s been properly cleaned and she knows it’ll help keep her mind off of Nate. So, she puts on some of her favorite music and proceeds to get lost in her chores. Before she knows it, her stomach is loudly grumbling, and Rory notices that it’s now mid-afternoon.

As she grabs some stuff for a late lunch, she decides to chance looking at her phone. Her heart drops a little seeing several texts from Nate, but Rory opens it before she can think twice about it. She has to read it a couple times before it fully processes what he said.

I’m sorry I broke what trust you had in me as a friend and I want to fix that

In whatever way you see fit

I guess even if it means you never talk to me again. I just...I want to make everything better

Please

Rory pauses for a moment, and tries to think of a response. She wants to talk to him, to let him feel the full impact of how much he ruined her - but she doesn’t want to give him hope. No matter how apologetic he is, Rory doesn’t want to give him too much hope.

I want to talk, but on my terms. You deserve to know what you did to me

I hated you for a long time, Nate

Still kind of do, if I’m being honest

Just… give me some time, okay? I gave up on the idea of you a long time ago

Sighing, Rory puts her phone off to the side, and decides to try and eat her lunch in peace, but she keeps thinking about Nate. Whatever happens next, Rory wants to be ready and confident in what she wants to happen next. At the very core of it all, she’s scared of letting Nate back in and history repeating itself.

If Nate wants to be in her life, she’s going to need to see that she matters to him. But as much as she wants that, Rory knows that it’s really asking for too much. It terrifies her that the thought keeps managing to weasel it’s way into her head, no matter how much she tries to ignore it. Blair might say that it’s a sign, but Rory really hopes that it isn’t.

Her phone buzzes, and she takes a deep breath before opening her phone. So far, Nate has been understanding, but that hardly means anything at the moment.

I understand completely

And I’m truly sorry I ever did that to you

Whatever it takes for me to show you that, I’ll do

You deserve that at the very least, Rory

Thank you, Nate. I’m sorry to make you wait a little longer

I’ll try to not take too long, but this is a lot

I would wait for you forever

Ah, getting poetic now

Maybe you have changed

I’ll take a while, but maybe not that long :)

Rory sighs, but she feels good about not caving to what he wants. As much as she wants to fix everything, she also knows that she’ll regret it. Before she forgets, Rory also sends a text to Piper telling her what happened, knowing that her friend will want to keep tabs on the situation.

Groaning, Rory also remembers that she’s going to have to tell her coworkers what happened as well. Even though they’ve talked plenty of shit, she knows that they’ll be supportive of her reconciling with Nate as long as it’s on her terms. However, she also knows that they’ll gladly make sure to keep him in his place.

When Monday rolls around, Rory can immediately tell that her friends know something is up. Thankfully, they don’t say anything, knowing that she won’t be comfortable talking about it at work. But they keep a close eye on her, like she’ll fall apart at a moment's notice. And maybe they’re right, she’s not really sure what’s held her together this whole weekend.

“So, care to spill whatever’s going on with you?” Ashton inquires, walking with Rory to her car.

Rory notes that Blair and Shea aren’t too far behind, and she sighs, accepting her fate of being cornered by all of them. They all eye her as she leans up against her car and lets out a huge sigh.

“Nate reached out to me to apologize for last year. He wanted to talk in person to let everything out, but I told him no for now,” Rory explains. “I want to talk to him, but on my terms.”

Blair frowns. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“I’m not really sure, but I think I want to let everything out in the open, you know? Like, I want him to know how much it hurt,” Rory answers, shrugging.

“Would you be meeting at his place?” Shea inquires, looking concerned. “Not that I think he would do anything, but like… that’s a lot of pressure.”

Rory pauses for a moment. “I think if we were to meet up, I’d want to do it at my place. I wouldn’t feel comfortable in his apartment. He can come to me.”

“Sounds like you already have a plan,” Ashton remarks, smirking a little.

“It’s going to happen eventually, I think. I just want to be ready,” Rory says. “It feels weird hearing from him again, though. I was ready to let go, but seeing him last Friday was harder than I expected.”

“If this is what you want, we’ll support you in it, okay? I know we shit talk him a lot, but...he was a good guy while he was around,” Shea says seriously.

“Thank you,” Rory says softly. “Now, enough digging around in my personal life, okay?”

“But what else is supposed to keep us entertained?” Ashton snorts. “You’re the one who was besties with an NHL superstar.”

Rory rolls her eyes. “You guys are the worst.”

“But that’s why you love us,” Blair replies, smiling widely.

A couple more weeks go by before Rory thinks about messaging Nate back. There’s a couple nights where she almost caves and sends something to him - but she knows she’s not fully ready yet. It’s a late Friday night after a diner run with her friends that Rory feels like she’s ready to speak to Nate again.

There wasn’t a monumental shift that made Rory change her mind, but rather the fact that her heart stopped falling apart any time she thought of Nate. She thinks she’s ready to have a conversation with him because in the end, she’s not sure if she wants it to be anything more than that.

Against Rory’s better judgement, she sends a text to Nate, fully knowing that he won’t reply until the morning. And that feels safer in a way. He won’t be able to ask questions that she isn’t ready to answer quite yet, at least not over the phone.

I want to talk soon

At my apartment, though

I’d feel better being in a space I feel comfortable if we’re going to be talking

And honestly the sooner the better, if you don’t mind

I want to get this over with

With that, Rory plugs in her phone and tries to fall asleep. Instead, she keeps herself up, thinking of all the things she wants to tell Nate. She wants to let him know how much he hurt her when he left without a word, but still leaving his trace in her every thought. By the time she falls asleep, the sun is just peeking over the mountains, signaling a fresh start.

When Rory wakes up, she pauses, unsure if she wants to check her phone. But she knows that waiting won’t help anything, and it’s best to just check. As she suspected, there were a few texts from Nate. Taking a deep breath, she opens them and skims over the messages.

Whatever makes you feel the best

And I can come over tomorrow night if that isn’t too soon

But I’ll wait for as long as you need me to

Rory pauses for a moment, unsure if it would be too soon. But she did say she was ready, and like ripping off a band-aid, Rory decides it’s best to just get it over with.

Yeah, I can do that. Before or after dinner?

Or during?

Whatever works for me

…..during dinner if you don’t mind

I miss your cooking

Was that too much?

I’m sorry

You better not just be reconciling bc of my food

But yeah, that works

I’m making curry though

Don’t make it too spicy

I’ll try my best lmao

But I guarantee nothing :’)

Rip to my taste buds then lol

But I’ll see you then

Rory takes a deep breath and tries to process the conversation. It felt weird to have Nate joke with her like nothing ever happened. In different circumstances, she would have laughed and teased right back, but it was too much too fast. Nate was picking up where things left off last year, but Rory isn’t ready for that. She’s not even sure she wants to be ready for that again.

Only a moment later, it finally hits her that Nate is coming over to her apartment the following night. She screams into her pillow, and then sends off a text Piper and her other friends. No matter how tomorrow ends up going, Rory knows that she’ll be an absolute mess afterwards. The thought of seeing Nate in her space is terrifying, but it’s a fear she’s willing to face if it means that they’ll be able to resolve everything.

Before she knows it, Rory is pacing her apartment waiting for Nate to come over. Dinner is already made, due to the fact that she was trying to keep herself busy while waiting for him. As much as Rory wanted to prepare a speech for Nate, to make sure she said everything she wanted to, she also knew that she wouldn’t remember any of it the second she saw his face.

When she hears a loud knock on her door, Rory freezes for a moment. This is her last moment to back out, but she steels herself and goes to open the door. The second she opens the door, there’s a moment of silence, Nate and herself unsure of what to do. Seeing him here makes Rory feel overwhelmed.

“I - hi,” Rory greets weakly. “Um, come on in.”

“Uh, thanks,” Nate replies awkwardly, stepping into her apartment. “It smells good in here.”

Rory smiles a little. “Dinner is already finished. I, uh, got kind of nervous.”

“I can leave if you need more time,” Nate says, concerned.

“No, it’s fine. You just… make me feel a lot of things, I guess,” Rory explains. “Waiting even longer wouldn’t have helped anything.”

“If you say so,” he says, obviously not believing her.

“Well, I guess we can eat first and talk over food,” she replies. “Everything is in the same spot. Still haven’t moved anything yet.”

Nate snorts. “I’m not surprised. And I’m guessing nothing is on the top shelves still?”

“You’re literally the fucking worst, McKinnon,” Rory teases. “I can’t believe I invite you over for dinner and this is what you say to me.”

“Oh I - I’m sorry,” Nate replies, flustered.

Rory rolls her eyes. “I’m kidding, it’s fine.”

Nate blushes and goes to get plates. They serve up their food in silence and go to sit on the couch. Neither really know what to say, so there’s a few beats of awkward silence. Rory can tell that he’s waiting for her to say something, not wanting to push her too far.

“For the longest time, I wasn’t sure what to make of you just… ignoring me,” Rory whispers. “I knew that playoffs were going to be a hard time. I mean, you already were terrible at replying to things during the season, so I knew the playoffs were going to be worse.

“But then you just… kept ignoring me, even during the summer. And it was hard to not think it was maybe my fault in some way that you kept ignoring me. Like I wasn’t useful or fucking interesting enough to keep around. That’s what hurt the most, you know?”

Nate looks absolutely broken at the confession. He sets down his plate, and Rory follows suit, knowing that neither of them are going to eat until after this is over.

“I never meant to make you feel that way,” Nate says, voice breaking. “I was so scared of fucking up what we had that I thought it was better to stop talking to you. I figured that I had messed up things enough that you wouldn’t care if we stopped talking to me. Gabe tried to tell me otherwise, but I wouldn’t hear it.”

Rory laughs bitterly, trying to hold back her tears. “I cared so much about you Nate, and seeing you just go about your life made me feel so shitty. And it’s been a year now, and I’ve done so much to get over it, but now here you are… somehow, it feels just like it did last summer.”

“You were the one person I had outside of hockey, and I know that if I was just me and not ‘Nate the hockey player’, you would have liked me just as much. That made me so terrified to mess things up that I thought it was better to lose you sooner rather than later,” Nate confesses.

Rory smiles sadly. “In the end, you felt like ‘Nate the hockey player’, and I think that’s what hurt the most.”

“I - fuck, I never meant for it to turn out like this,” Nate says, choking back his tears.

“Neither did I,” she replies. “Seeing you that night in the bar, it scared me. I thought that I was finally over you, but that night showed me that you could still hurt me.”

“Is there anything I can do to fix this? I wanted to talk and I wasn’t sure if you would ever speak to me again.”

Rory pauses for a moment to think. “I don’t really know, if I’m being honest. I want to forgive you, but I’m scared of this happening all over again. My heart isn’t ready to be broken again.”

“Whatever it takes,” Nate whispers.

“Give me some time, okay? Tonight feels like a lot and I don’t know what to do now that you’re here. But I want to make sure that you actually talk to me, Nate. You can’t ignore me again.”

“I promise I’ll try my best. I just… get so focused on one thing, but I won’t push you away again, I swear,” Nate says.

“Okay,” Rory replies, voice breaking, with tears starting to fall down her face.

“Can I hug you?” Nate asks.

She nods, and he pulls her in, holding her tightly. Rory isn’t sure how long they sit there with her cradled in Nate’s arms, but it feels better than she wants to admit. Having him here like this is overwhelming, and she mourns the fact that things are going to be so very different now, no matter what happens.

“Thank you,” Rory says after a few minutes, voice rough from crying.

“Of course,” Nate whispers, slowly pulling back.

When Rory looks up at him, his cheeks are tear-stained as well, and something about that settles something within her. Something about it helps her feel like he missed her just as much, even if it wasn’t in the same way.

“Our food is probably cold now,” Rory jokes, trying to lighten the mood up a little bit.

“Is that you hinting that you want me to go heat it up again?” Nate asks, smiling.

She laughs a little. “Of course it is.”

“Glad some things never change,” Nate snorts, rolling his eyes. “I’ll get right on it.”

The rest of the evening passes with lighter conversation topics. Rory talks about her promotion at work, and Nate talks about all the new rookies she has to meet soon. It almost feels normal, and it terrifies Rory. Seeing how well he fits back into her life is a lot, and she’s not quite sure how to handle it. She doesn’t want things to move too fast, not before she’s ready, but having these quiet moments back is making it difficult.

“Thank you for having me over,” Nate says softly as he places the dishes in the dishwasher. “I’m glad we could talk again.”

“Me too,” Rory whispers. “Just… I want things back to normal, but I don’t want to be left behind again.”

“I’ll make sure you don’t,” Nate replies, confident. “Playoffs are happening again soon, and I’ll do better this time. I can’t lose you again.”

Rory smiles sadly. “You could always find someone else, though.”

“You aren’t replaceable, you know,” Nate comments. “You keep saying things like that, and I know you think I could, but I can’t.”

“You’re really making this hard, you know.”

“I just want to show you that you’re worth everything.”

“Still loving flattering people, I see,” Rory teases.

Nate rolls his eyes. “And you still love to not accept my compliments. I’ll show you one of these days.”

“I’m sure you will,” Rory says, smiling. “You sure you don’t want leftovers?”

“I told you it was too spicy!” Nate exclaims.

“You think everything is spicy, though,” Rory snorts. “But I guess that just means more for me.”

“I guess so,” Nate says softly, smiling. “Well, I’ll talk to you soon?”

“We better talk soon,” Rory replies pointedly. “No falling off the map again.”

“Not this time,” Nate promises.

Once he’s gone, Rory flops down on her bed and screams into her pillow. The whole evening didn’t feel quite real if she’s being honest. As much as she doesn’t want to admit it, Rory feels herself getting to a place where she can forgive Nate. Tonight reminded her how easy they work together and everything felt… normal. It’s a terrifying thought, especially because if he doesn’t fall off the map again, Rory can envision herself falling in love again.

When Rory walks into work the next morning, she can feel her friends’ eyes on her. She knows that they’re going to interrogate her after work, so she doesn’t mention anything the whole day. Thankfully, they don’t mention anything either, but they definitely keep an eye on her.

“So, emergency meeting at the diner tonight?” Ashton inquires innocently during lunch. “Seems like there’s something going on.”

Rory huffs. “Yeah, an emergency meeting sounds good. There’s a lot I need to catch you up on.”

“Sounds fun,” Ashton replies, smirking. “I’ll tell everyone else about our plans.”

“Thanks, Ash,” Rory snorts.

When everyone finishes up for the day, they all make their way to their new spot. Thankfully, nobody mentions what the meeting was for, but Rory has a feeling that they already know what happened. Once they’re all seated in a booth towards the back of the diner, everyone turns to look at her.

“I feel like I’m being interrogated for a crime,” Rory jokes, trying to lighten the mood.

“Did you commit a crime?” Shea asks innocently.

“Not that I know of,” Rory says weakly. “But I did meet up with Nate last night. He came over last night for dinner.”

Everyone gives her a questioning look, so she launches into her recap of the night. They all listen patiently as Rory stumbles through it all. Even though they let her talk, she can tell that they’re all concerned.

“So, uh, yeah, that was it,” Rory says, finishing explaining.

“Are you sure that you’re okay with this?” Blair asks, genuinely worried.

“I think I'm as ready as I’ll ever be. Seeing him last night made me realize how much I missed him in my life,” Rory answers.

Blair frowns. “But if he doesn’t do better, are you ready to let him go again?”

“I’m going to have to be, aren’t I? I don’t think I really have a choice in the matter,” Rory replies. “But I think I want to give him the second chance.”

“So… I can’t kick his ass on sight now?” Shea jokes.

“I don’t think so,” Ashton sighs. “What a shame.”

Rory rolls her eyes. “You’re all the worst.”

“We love you too,” Blair replies, smiling. “I’m glad that you were able to talk to him, though. Even if this all doesn’t work out, you got to talk it out.”

“Yeah, it was nice,” Rory whispers. “Hopefully things turn out a bit happier this time.”

"You have a place in my heart no one else ever could have." — F. Scott Fitzgerald

As playoffs and summer rolled around, Rory was pleasantly surprised at how much Nate texted and called her. Even though this is what she was hoping for all those months ago, it felt odd to hear from him so much. Seeing tangible evidence of Nate trying his best to be better felt like too much to take in sometimes, even if it was something small, like making sure that Rory was taking care of herself during the busy workdays.

The only downfall to this is that Rory can feel herself falling back in love with Nate. She tries to push back on it, and tries to ignore the fluttering feeling every time she sees his name pop up on her phone, but it’s hard. Knowing that Nate was making an effort for her caused a tidal wave of feelings, ones that she’s certain aren’t reciprocated.

“I think you’re fooling yourself, you know,” Blair states one Friday night. “Like… he’s putting in so much effort to reconnect that he has to feel something.”

Rory frowns. “I don’t want to get my hopes, I’ve only just gotten him back. And it’s reading too much into it, right?”

“I’m inclined to back up Blair on this one,” Ashton says. “The dude probably has a million friends, but the fact that he missed you so fucking much, even after a year…”

“But he also ignored me for months,” Rory points out. “We all agreed that was fucking terrible, and I doubt he would do that if he was into me.”

Shea shrugs. “That’s definitely a possibility, but… just think about it, okay? I know it’s too soon, but it could be worth a shot eventually.”

“I’m not going to be the one to fuck things up,” Rory says. “I’m just happy we managed to work things out.”

“If you say so,” Ashton replies. “But do you think things are going to be worse once he comes back to Denver?”

“I’m really trying to not think about that,” Rory mumbles. “I’m sure it’ll all be fine. I was doing fine before.”

“Well, we’re all here if you need it,” Blair says, hesitant.

Thankfully, her friends let the subject drop, but Rory knows that she hasn’t heard the last of it quite yet. As much as she wants to be completely open with Nate, she’s terrified of making things awkward between them. It’s only been in the last couple of months that they’ve gotten back to their easy camaraderie they had before.

When September rolls around, Shea insists that Rory invites Nate out to a Friday night bar run. After Nate happily accepts for the following week, Rory starts to feel nervous. She knows that her friends are probably going to give him a subtle shovel talk, and she’s honestly not quite sure how she feels about it. As appreciative she is about her friends looking out for her, Rory also doesn’t know how Nate is going to feel about it.

“You can’t be too mean to him,” Rory states as they all walk to the bar. “I can’t have you scaring him off, okay?”

“We’ll be on our best behavior,” Ashton says cheerily, smirking a little.

“Good lord,” Rory mutters. “At least wait until he’s had a drink or two.”

Shea shrugs. “I think we can manage that.”

By the time they get to the bar, Nate is already there, having grabbed their usual table. Rory warms at the thought of him remembering something like that. Once they all grab their seats, there’s a few beats of silence, nobody quite sure what to say first.

“It’s been a while, good to have you back,” Shea greets, eyeing Nate up. “Good job on winning the cup last year. Rough you couldn’t do it again.”

Nate laughs nervously. “Thanks, we tried our best. Just happy to get to the playoffs again, though.”

Ashton snorts. “We’re not the media, dude. You can be pissed off if you want to be.”

“I - I mean, it’s true,” Nate says weakly. “It was hard getting so close and not winning it again. But, uh, what do you want to drink? I figure the first round can be on me.”

The group looks at each other in pleasant surprise, but lists off their drink orders. When Nate goes up to the bar, they all watch him like a hawk. As Nate’s waiting for their drinks, a girl walks over to Nate, obviously flirting with him. He looks caught off-guard for a moment, but then smiles brightly, appearing to flirt back. Rory’s friends look to her in concern, and she does her best to shrug it off. It’s not like her and Nate are dating - they’re truly just friends, even if her feelings say otherwise.

“Rory....” Blair whispers.

“I told you, we’re just friends,” Rory whispers harshly. “It’s not that big of a deal, he can do whatever he wants.”

Blair frowns, but doesn’t say anything as she notices Nate walking back with their drinks. Despite what Rory is feeling, she knows that she has no right to be jealous over Nate. They’ve both made it very clear that they’re just friends, and Rory isn’t inclined to mess things up now, not when they’ve just got each other back.

“Sorry it took so long, I just got distracted talking to someone,” Nate says, blushing faintly.

Shea raises an eyebrow. “Did you get a number?”

“Oh, uh, no, I’m here to hang out with you guys tonight,” Nate answers, flustered. “And, uh, I’m not super interested in hooking up right now. I have other things to worry about.”

“Riiiight,” Ashton replies. “So, what have you been up to since you left us last?”

“Not much really, just a lot of practice and games. I also moved into a proper house again since my apartment was feeling a little small,” Nate explains.

“Wait, really? You were just starting to make your apartment look good,” Rory teases. “Am I going to have to give you decorating advice again?”

“I - no, I have everything covered,” Nate defends. “Besides, it was never that bad!”

“Uh huh, whatever you want to say,” Rory says, laughing.

“I mean, I did hear plenty of horror stories from Rory. We’re here to support you,” Ashton says, smirking.

Nate pouts. “I can’t believe I paid for all your drinks and you all gang up on me like this.”

“Don’t worry, it just means we like you well enough,” Shea replies, smiling brightly. “But honestly, you’ve just been up to hockey? That sounds kind of…boring.”

“It’s what I do every summer,” Nate mumbles, obviously embarrassed.

“He has to keep up his reputation, don’t worry,” Rory jokes.

“At least you have my back,” Nate sighs.

The rest of the night passes in a similar lighthearted manner. By the time everyone is getting ready to head out, Rory feels pleasantly warm and slightly more drunk than she normally gets. It’s just been nice to be back with Nate in the way she always remembered too fondly. She wants to tell him that, so she looks around, trying to find him.

But her heart drops when she sees the girl from earlier heading over to Nate. Rory glances away and continues following her friends out of the bar. They all look behind her expectantly, thinking that Nate is still following her.

“He’s, uh, talking to someone. I think we’re good to head out,” Rory says, trying to smile.

“Rory…” Blair says softly.

“No, no, it’s good. I don’t get to be jealous or mad over this. I’m just a little bit drunk,” Rory whispers.

“Okay, I’m driving you home. Your car will be fine in the staff parking lot over the weekend,” Blair sighs.

“Thank you,” Rory whispers.

The car ride to her apartment is silent, neither wanting to broach the subject. Thankfully, Blair helps Rory to her bed, but before Blair can leave, Rory holds her close and starts sobbing. Rory really isn’t sure how long they sit there with Rory crying into her friend's shoulder, but by the time she pulls back, Blair’s shoulder is wet from the tears.

“Are you really going to be okay?” Blair asks quietly.

“No,” Rory answers, voice rough. “This wasn’t the plan.”

“You never really stopped loving him,” Blair states.

Rory laughs bitterly. “I don’t think I did. And I hate him for that.”

“I still have a couple of friends that might be interested, you know,” Blair comments, joking.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Rory snorts. “Thank you for this.”

“You’re one of my best friends, of course I’m here to help,” Blair says. “Maybe call Piper in the morning, okay? She always seems to knock the most sense into you.”

“That… is too true,” Rory sighs. “I’ll see you on Monday?”

“Yeah, see you on Monday,” Blair says before heading out.

Once Rory hears the door shut, she sighs deeply. It scares her that just seeing Nate flirt with someone had this effect on her. She knows that she shouldn’t be hurt if she isn’t willing to confess her feelings because of course Nate is going to find someone else. He’s a professional athlete, it’s not like he doesn’t have options.

And Rory has to accept that she’ll never be an option - even as much as she wants to be. Nate put so much effort into reconnecting because he wants to be friends again, not because he ever loved her in any non-platonic sense of the word. It hurts, but Rory will learn to get over herself as long as it means keeping Nate in her life. She lost him once, she refuses to have it happen again.

When she wakes up the next morning, she feels a bit gross, and as she remembers the previous night, Rory doesn’t feel much better. But she also knows that she should call Piper, knowing that her friend will want to know what’s going on.

“Hey sweetie, what’s up?” Piper asks in lieu of a proper greeting.

“Um, so you know how Nate and I have been becoming friends again? I think I might have fucked things up and fallen in love with him,” Rory confesses.

“Does he not love you back? I’ll come and kick his ass,” Piper says.

“I don’t think he does,” Rory whispers.

“Wait, why do you make it sound like you don’t know for sure?”

“He was flirting with someone last night and we agreed to be just friends.”

“Are you sure that he could have just said that to make sure you were in his life no matter what? He could be just as scared as you are about saying something.”

“Why would he be scared of me?” Rory inquires, confused.

“How many times do I have to tell you that you’re not something replaceable? You are worth so much, and I think Nate knows that,” Piper says firmly. “You should tell him, Rory.”

“I only just got him back, though,” Rory whispers.

“Just… think about it, okay? I really think it could be something good if you gave it a chance.”

“I’m not ready yet,” Rory says softly. “Losing him again would feel… god, it would hurt even more than before. It would tear my heart out, Piper.”

Piper takes a deep breath. “I think Nate loving you has been so subtle that it’s hard to see at first. But I think it’s there, for all that it matters.”

“I hate this so much,” Rory sobs, not able to hold back the tears. “I can’t love him anymore, Piper. I can’t handle this.”

“You can, babe, I know you can handle this,” Piper says soothingly. “If he really doesn’t love you back, then there will be someone else to love you just as much as you love everyone else.”

“You really think so?”

“Of course I do. You deserve it.”

“I hate that, even now, he has me crying over him,” Rory whispers.

“I’m sorry I can’t be there for you, but I know you’ll figure it all out soon enough. Now, is there anything else fun you can update me on?”

“Oh, uh, yeah,” Rory says, grateful for the distraction.

By the time Rory hangs up, she’s feeling a bit better. Even though Piper seems to think that Nate has feelings for her, Rory refuses to mess things up again. She’s willing to keep her friendship with Nate, even at the cost of seeing him love other people in the way she wants for herself. As much as she doesn’t want to, Rory thinks it might be time to ask Blair about her friends.

Despite coming to that resolution, it still takes Rory several days to build up the confidence to ask Blair about it. As much as she doesn’t want to admit it, something about it feels like she’s giving up on Nate. But she’s cried over him enough now, and she accepts that it’s time to move on forward from her feelings.

“Wait, so you’re… actually interested?” Blair inquires, obviously unsure. “Or are you doing this just to get over Nate?”

“A little bit of both, if I’m being honest,” Rory answers. “But I have to put myself out there eventually. I can’t keep putting it off.”

Blair frowns a little. “Well, if you’re totally sure, then I can set something up. Do you remember Jacob from the holiday party last year?”

“Yeah, he seemed fun,” Rory says, already knowing where this is going.

“He was definitely interested in you, but I knew you were still going through it with Nate, even if you didn’t want to admit it. But if you’re up for it now…”

“I’m definitely up for it now.”

And this is how Rory finds herself going on a coffee date with Jacob the following Saturday. It’s definitely awkward at first, but once they find their stride, Rory finds herself enjoying her time. They spend hours talking about anything and everything. By the time the date is over, Rory feels tentatively hopeful about the whole thing.

Once Rory gets back to her apartment, she notices a text from Nate asking if she wants to get dinner with him. She hesitates - she doesn’t want to ruin the happiness she felt earlier today with all of the confusing feelings Nate brings with him. But that’s also not his fault, so Rory says he can come over if he brings takeout.

Nate sends a smiley face and that he’ll grab food from her favorite diner on the way. While Rory waits, she tries to calm herself down. Her date with Jacob was good, and he was genuinely interested in her, not something she could say for Nate. Before she knows it, she hears Nate knocking on the door.

“Fancy seeing you here,” Rory greets as she lets him in.

“You replied late today. Rough night at the bar last night?” Nate teases, setting the food down in the kitchen.

Rory blushes. “Oh, uh, I actually went on a date today, so that’s why I didn’t reply.”

“That’s, uh, that’s great,” Nate says, smiling a little. “Was it a good one?”

“Yeah, we had a great time. I mean, it was pretty chill, but it was nice to get to know Jacob a bit more,” Rory explains. “We actually met last year at the company holiday party.”

“Oh, I’m glad it went well,” Nate says awkwardly.

“Are you okay?” Rory inquires, confused.

“Yeah, of course, just a bit tired from practice, I guess.”

“If you say so. Now, did you get the usual?”

Nate snorts. “I’m a creature of habit, what else do you expect?”

Things lighten up a bit after that, the awkwardness slowly disappearing the longer Nate hangs out. Rory’s really not too sure what to think of it, but she takes it worth a grain of salt. If he says practice has been exhausting, then she’ll just take his word for it.

The weeks pass and Rory goes on more dates with Jacob, even to the point of bringing him to this year’s holiday party as her date. Nate hardly asks about him anymore, but Rory takes that as him not really being into her romantic life. She can get that, especially since she hardly ever asks about his dating life as well, even if it was because she was scared to hear the answer.

All of the careful walls Rory has built recently all fall apart on a Saturday afternoon. Jacob is over for lunch, and he seems to have a serious look on his face. Rory doesn’t think much of it at first, thinking it must be something work related that he’s still hung up on.

“Are you feeling okay?” Rory inquires softly. “Looks like you’re doing a lot of thinking over there.”

Jacob smiles softly. “I - well, I really hope you don’t take this the wrong way, but are you in love with Nate?”

“Am I… what?” Rory replies, freezing. “Where did you get that idea?”

“I’ve seen the way you look at him the couple of times we’ve gone to games, and just the way you talk about him…” Jacob explains. “It’s okay if you love him, but I really don’t think we should be dating if that’s the case.”

Rory pauses for a moment, thinking over her answer. “I lost my chance with him a long time ago, and… I’m still trying to get over it, I guess.”

“You know, I wouldn’t be surprised if he loves you back,” Jacob says, smiling sadly.

“That would be a nice thought,” Rory replies, trying to laugh. “But I promise I wouldn’t be here right now if I didn’t want to.”

Jacob sighs deeply. “You’re an amazing person and anyone would be lucky to have you. And if Nate doesn’t realize what he has, he’s a fucking idiot. But I think you need to figure out your feelings first.”

“Are you… breaking up with me?” Rory asks, voice cracking.

“Shit, I’m so sorry,” Jacob says softly. “I just think you need to say something to Nate because something tells me he won’t say no.”

Rory laughs bitterly. “You wouldn’t be the first person to tell me that.”

“Then maybe they’re right,” Jacob points out. “Look, this is just as hard as it is for me, but I’ve seen how you look at him. This is the healthiest thing for both of us to do, okay?”

“Shit, you’re right, I know you are,” Rory groans. “It just fucking sucks.”

Jacob smiles sadly. “Things will get better soon, I promise. I’ll, uh, see you around.”

“Yeah, of course,” Rory says softly as Jacob heads out.

As sad as she is over what happened, Rory knows that Jacob is right. Despite how much she enjoyed being around him and doing things with him, there’s still a small part of her that’s hung up on Nate. And in the end, that isn’t fair to either of them in the long run.

It also makes her think about how honest she wants to be with Nate. He’s going to want to know what happened between her and Jacob, but she’s not sure if she should tell him exactly why. The thought of telling him everything is terrifying, but if there’s any chance that he could feel the same way, even after everything that’s happened…she’s not quite sure what to make of it all.

When Monday rolls around, she asks her friends for an emergency meeting at the diner after work. They all look a bit worried, but agree to not ask any questions until then. If anyone could talk sense into Rory, it would be them.

“So… what’s going on?” Ashton inquires once everyone is piled into a booth.

“Jacob broke up with me because I’m still in love with Nate,” Rory confesses in a rush. “And… I don’t know what to do.”

“I - well, that’s a lot to unpack,” Shea replies. “I thought you were over Nate.”

Rory snorts. “So did I, but I think I was ignoring my feelings because I had Jacob. And, uh, that’s obviously not very healthy at all.”

“Are you going to tell Nate about them?” Blair asks innocently. “Because I think he deserves to know. And if things don’t work out, maybe you can finally move on.”

“I - honestly, I really don’t know,” Rory whispers. “I know it’s probably the right thing to do, but it scares me. The thought of him rejecting me hurts more than I want to admit.”

“I know I’m a huge advocate of saying things when you’re ready, but it might be time to do something about it,” Blair says.

“Yeah, we all love you, Rory, and it hurts seeing all of this happen,” Ashton replies. “Just consider it, okay? And if things go to shit, we’ll be ready with junk food and shitty wine.”

Rory smiles sadly. “Thanks, guys, I don’t know what I would do without you.”

Things lighten up a bit after that, but Rory feels a bit better. Asking Nate to put in effort to try and make their friendship better only makes sense if she’s doing the same. Sure, this has the potential to ruin everything, but it’s not any better to keep her feelings trapped up either, especially if her heart is out on her sleeve.

Despite coming to this conclusion, Rory avoids Nate for as long as she can. She’s still afraid of rejection, of being officially told that he doesn’t feel the same way. Blair does her best to encourage Rory, and it’s not like Nate’s going to accept being ignored, not this time. Eventually, it comes down to Nate coming to Rory’s place unannounced for them to meet up.

“Oh, uh, hi,” Rory greets as she opens the door for Nate.

“I was getting worried about you,” he replies, frowning. “But everyone said that you were just really busy.”

“Uh, yeah, it’s been a bit hectic. I’ve been starting to open the internship applications for the summer, so there’s a lot of stuff to focus on,” Rory explains with uncertainty as she leads them to the couch.

“I’m not intruding, am I?” Nate inquires, frowning.

“No, of course not,” Rory answers, taking a seat next to him. “Um, I guess I’ve also been a bit out of it because Jacob broke up with me.”

“Oh,” Nate says, shocked. “I - shit, are you okay?”

Rory feels her heart pounding in her chest as she decides to confess and lay everything out in the open. There’s going to be no going back after this, but she has to be brave for just this one moment.

“I think I will be,” Rory says quietly. “He actually broke up with me because he thinks I’m still in love with you.”

Nate freezes for a brief moment, looking like a deer in headlights. “And… are you still in love with me?”

“Yeah, I am,” Rory whispers. “I think I’ve been in love with you for a long time, but could never fully admit it to myself.”

“What a coincidence,” Nate says, laughing a little. “Because I’m in love with you too. I’ve been trying to get over you for so long, but it always comes back to you. Losing you the first time was terrifying.”

Rory gives him a confused look. “Why did you never say anything? I would have said yes.”

“You’re one of the best things to ever happen to me and the thought of fucking it up… I couldn’t handle it, so I focused fully on playoffs. Gabe tried to get me to say something, but I thought never seeing you again was better than hearing no,” Nate explains.

“I can’t believe we’ve both been so dumb,” Rory says breathlessly.

“Can I kiss you?” Nate asks softly.

“Of course you can, you idiot,” Rory answers, just as soft.

When he leans in to kiss her, she feels a brief moment of disbelief that it is actually happening. But it’s so much softer than she was expecting as she leans into it, holding onto his shoulders to try and ground herself. As Nate pulls away, Rory feels the immense loss, even though he’s right in front of her.

“I waited so long to do that,” Nate says.

“Same here,” Rory replies, giggling.

“Um, would it be rushing if I asked you to be my girlfriend already?” Nate asks, nervous.

Rory shrugs. “Maybe, but it’s a yes anyways.”

“That’s good,” Nate whispers before kissing Rory again.

“When I go towards you, it is with my whole life.” — Rainer Maria Rilke

It’s summer again in Denver and Rory has taken to staying over at Nate’s place more often than not. He decided to come back early this year to spend more time with her to make up for lost time. Rory was flustered at first, knowing that it was disrupting his usual routine, but he was insistent that she was worth it.

Rory rolls over and curls into Nate, who’s still surprisingly in bed. He kisses her head softly, causing her to smile. It’s rare that they cuddle together in the morning with Nate’s training schedule, so she enjoys every moment she can.

“Good morning,” Nate says softly. “Are you feeling okay?”

“Yeah, just enjoying this,” Rory mumbles. “Thought you would be gone by now.”

“This seemed a little bit better than working out,” Nate jokes.

Rory laughs and adjusts to look up at him, smiling widely. Nate leans down to give her a quick kiss before setting his phone back down on the nightstand. In this moment, Rory feels the most content she’s felt in a long time. Everything just… feels right and she doesn’t want to break the moment.

“What are you staring at?” Nate asks, trying to not laugh.

“You,” Rory answers, smiling a little before giving him a quick kiss.

“Mmm, morning breath,” Nate mumbles, kissing her back. “Also didn’t realize I was that nice to look at.”

“Well, you are. And I’m just really happy,” Rory states.

Nate's eyes crinkle as he smiles widely and goes to kiss Rory again. They get lost in each other and the slowing of time that only an early summer morning can bring. This time, Rory pulls away, knowing that they have other matters to take care of today. She knows that there will be plenty of other moments like this to enjoy now that they have forever ahead of them.

“You promised that we would go furniture shopping today,” Rory says.

“Ugh,” Nate groans, pulling her up to kiss her jaw. “I don’t want to though.”

“We can’t keep putting this off forever, though,” Rory points out. “I’ll just keep bugging you until we do it.”

“Why can’t I just give you my credit card? It’s not like I’m going to be any help,” Nate points out.

“But I want you to be there,” Rory replies, smiling. “I like being around you.”

“I’m sure you won’t be saying that two hours into furniture shopping. There’s a reason why I made my mom do all the shopping.”

“And I love your mother, she made some very good choices. But it’s… kind of empty here, isn’t it?”

Nate sighs. “Fine, I guess I can go. Just this once.”

“I love you,” Rory blurts out, then immediately freezing.

“Oh,” Nate says softly, seemingly surprised.

“I - sorry that’s probably too much,” Rory whispers.

“But you meant it?”

“Of course I do. You’re one of the best things to happen to me, Nate. I know things have been hard before this but...I wouldn’t change a thing.”

Nate stares at Rory for a moment, trying to process everything. He reaches over and holds her face, stroking her jaw before giving her a quick kiss.

“I love you too,” Nate confesses softly as he pulls back. “I’m so sorry I left you the first time, but I promise to keep making it up to you, no matter what.”

Rory laughs a little, before smirking. “And now you can make it up to me by going furniture shopping with me.”

“I guess it’s not going to be so bad with you if it means I get to keep you around.”

“Good answer, babe.”

“I’m going to make some coffee, but take your time.”

Rory hums a little. “Okay, I’ll be out soon.”

Once Nate is out of the room, Rory takes a deep breath. Despite being together for months now, he still manages to set her off balance in the best of ways. There’s brief moments where none of this feels real to Rory - she still has times where it’s hard to imagine Nate being happy about dating her. But hearing Nate tell her that he loves her...something about it settles some of her worries about their relationship.

The smell of fresh coffee finally tempts Rory to roll out of bed and throw on one of Nate’s old t-shirts in place of her pajamas. As she makes her way to the kitchen, she also hears the sizzling of bacon and Nate cracking some eggs. This brings a small smile to her face, knowing that this means Nate is going to try and push for a lazy morning as long as possible.

“You look nice,” Nate says, smiling.

Rory rolls her eyes. “I don’t look any better than before.”

“Ah, I think that’s where you’re wrong,” Nate remarks, giving her a quick kiss. “You -”

“Always look better with my clothes on,” Rory finishes, smiling. “I think you’ve mentioned it a couple of times.”

“Still true, no matter how many times I’ve said it,” Nate says. “I’ve got breakfast going, so you can just grab some coffee and relax.”

“This is nice,” Rory replies softly. “It’s not going to get you out of shopping today though.”

Nate sighs, laughing a little. “It was worth a shot.”

“You should feel lucky that I’m going furniture shopping for a place I don’t even live in, though,” Rory points out. “Like, I’m not even going to fully enjoy everything I pick out.”

“You could though,” Nate blurts out, immediately blushing.

“Are you… implying something here?” Rory inquires, raising an eyebrow.

“Um,” Nate says. “I was just thinking you could, uh, maybe move in with me to fully enjoy whatever you pick out.”

“Babe, you literally just told me that you loved me this morning,” Rory snorts. “I appreciate the offer, but this is a lot right now.”

Nate groans and hides his face in Rory’s shoulder. She laughs a little, knowing how embarrassed he’s feeling right now. Ever since they’ve started dating, he’s gotten a lot better at communicating, even if it means blurting out the first thing that comes to mind.

“Look, my answer isn’t a no,” Rory says. “I still have my lease for a little less than a year, but after that, we can talk.”

“Okay,” Nate mumbles before pulling back. “I’m sorry for being too much.”

Rory smiles. “I don’t mind it, you know that. But if you ever want to back out of the offer…”

“I’m not going to back out,” Nate pouts.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever you say, babe,” Rory says, smiling. “Now make sure the bacon isn’t burning, okay?”

Nate smiles, kissing her softly. “Okay, can do.”

This might not be how Rory was expecting her morning to go, but she’s grateful for it nonetheless. Being here with Nate likes this is more than she could have asked for this time last year, and she’s never felt so lucky.

#nathan mackinnon #colorado avalanche #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #nathan mackinnon imagine #fic #mine

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boiolay · 5 years ago

Text

See You Soon | Part 3

Ex-Husband!Jaehyun + Boyfriend!Johnny

genre: fluff; angst

warnings: explicit content; swearing

word count: 5.2K

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

"Seoyeon, how old are you turning next month?" You walked into the living room and was welcomed by the scene of Johnny and your toddler interacting. They sat on the floor with wooden bricks all splattered around them, the girl raised her eyes to the man and showed three fingers with her hand.

"Two!!" Your boyfriend laughed softly and reached to hold the little hand to help Seoyeon show the right number of fingers.

"Yes, princess. But two is like this." She looked at her fingers and nodded, before turning her attention back to stack up the blocks in front of her. You walked closer to them with a soft smile on your lips and sat on the couch close to where Johnny's head was rested. You leaned down to hug his shoulders from behind and rested your hands on his chest while watching Seoyeon. He moved his head offering you a loving smile and holded your hands squeezing them, you leaned down to press your lips on his before turning your attention back to your daughter.

"And did you decide what you want to get, Seoyeon? For your birthday?" You asked the little girl, you knew she loved drawing and painting that's why you had already bought a canvas set and watercolours paintings. But if she said she wanted something different from that you were willing to give it to her, you wanted her birthday to be as perfect as possible. Unfortunately, this year was going to be just the three of you, because she still haven't got many friends around and you thought it would be weird to invite your coworkers over since you didn't know them very well either, so you wanted to make sure that at least the cake and the gift were good enough.

Seoyeon looked up at you for a brief moment before stare at her blocks again hitting the two on her hands against each other. Johnny reached to brush her hair off her eyes and playfully tickled her belly to get her attention. "Did you hear mom? What do you want to get as a gift, princess?"

She giggled wiggling her body and looked up with big eyes at the word gift, making the two adults laugh softly. She put the blocks down so she could stand up and walked to you extending her arms so you could take her on yours. You smiled at you daughter and sat her on your hip cuddling her a bit, you pout at the thought that she was growing too fast and soon would be too big to sit on your lap. She fiddled with the necklace hanging from your neck for a moment before looking up at you with big eyes. "I want dad for my birthday."

You held your breath for a moment, you definitely didn't expected her to say something like that. You turned to stare at Johnny and saw as he looked away at the mention of Jaehyun. He has been avoiding you every time your ex-husband was brought up.

It has been weird since you got back from New York, almost a month ago. You felt so confused after the last conversation you had with Jaehyun that all the flight back to Chicago was a blur to you. The time you spent there you felt happy in a way you didn't feel in long time, but you were sure that it was because of the sparkle in Seoyeon's eyes that she only had whenever she looked at her dad. You missed it. But even at that night you spent with Jaehyun, there was a familiar feeling of comfort in the air that made you never want to leave, and there was also something that you couldn't name that made your heart tickle and forget about everything else.

When you arrived home after the trip, you were still a bit zoned out, after all the events were still fresh in your mind and you knew Johnny noted that something was odd since you came back. You didn't talk to him about your last night in the hotel, because there wasn't anything to tell. What could possibly be an issue? The lips barely touched each other, so there wasn't nothing more than dinner and talk with your daughter's father, right?

“Baby, your dad came here not long ago. He is living far away now and he has to work…” You said low running your fingers through her hair, but as soon as you finished your sentence, she pushed your hand away and wiggled out of your hold.

“But I want him!” She shouted before running to her bedroom. You watched her shocked, she had never talked back to you like that. You turned your head to search for support from Johnny, but he was also avoiding you.

“I’ll check on her.” That was the last thing he said before leaving you alone on the room. It felt like you were disappointing everyone around you.

♡

“Yes, daddy! I’m being good.” You watched as Seoyeon talked to Jaehyun, you could see it was one of her favorite parts of the day, her eyes would light up whenever she saw her dad through the screen of your computer.

“Uhm, okay then, my baby.” You heard his voice and, even not being able to see his face, you knew he was smiling. “Now go to sleep because it’s late and I can see you yawning.” Seoyeon had her head rested on the pillows of your bed and rubbed her eyes with her little fists, but as soon as Jaehyun said sleep, she sat up and shook her head whining low.

“No. I want to stay...” You sighed and walked to sit beside her on the bed to stroke her hair, thing that always made her feel sleepy.

“I’ll talk to you first thing in the morning when you wake up, Seoyeon. Now go with your mom, okay?” She leaned her head against your arm and nuzzled her face on it.

“Uhm, okay… I love you, daddy.”

“I love you too, baby.” You took her in your arms feeling her hug your neck and before Jaehyun could end the call you called him.

“Jaehyun. Could you wait a bit? I want to talk to you.” You said with a soft smile rocking the half asleep toddler in your arms. “I’ll just put her on the bed and come back. Please? It's about her birthday.” Mouthing the last words to avoid waking up Seoyeon, you looked at him with begging eyes and before he had time to say no, you stood up to go to her bedroom.

The atmosphere had been weird between the two of you after his departure. You never got to talk about all that happened a few weeks ago. Whenever he called you would try to talk to him, but he would say that he was either busy or brush it off. The only time you got him to say something about it he said that he shouldn't have said that to you, that it was inappropriate since you were on a established relationship, it was said with those exact words, you knew it was all rehearsed maybe it wasn't even him who thought about that. You wanted to confront him about it, but when you were about to open your mouth Johnny had walked in the bedroom, so you just keeped it to yourself and wished him good night before ending the call.

That's another thing you noticed that would always happen, whenever Seoyeon was done talking to her dad and you tried to make a conversation with him, your boyfriend would come into the room. You didn't know if that was only coincidence, but it was making you suspicious that he was doing that on purpose. It was pissing you off

You laid your daughter on her bed, smiling when you saw how fast she dozed off. You pressed your lips on her forehead and pulled the covers up to her chest before closing the door and walking back to Jaehyun. Once you were sat on the bed with the computer on your lap, you sighed and ran a hand thought your hair feeling his eyes follow your movements.

"So, is there something wrong?"

You finally looked up to stare at him biting your lower lip in anticipation.

"No! Nothing wrong." You smiled with your eyes. "Uhm the thing is- Well, I was thinking that if you-" You sighed deeply and cleaned your hands on your sweatpants, you didn't even know why you were feeling so nervous to talk to him. "I wanted to know if you could come to Seoyeon's birthday." You stopped to stare at him looking for a reaction, but his face was blank. "I mean. She doesn't have many friends around yet and neither do I, my parents won't be able to come and I don't want strange people around my house, I mean I don't know my coworkers that's why i say they are strangers, so I was…"

"Y/n, breath." You said that all in one breath and when you hear a chuckle from the other side of the screen you stopped seeing that he was smiling.

"Okay. Sorry. But… What do you think?" You looked at him with hope, you really wanted him to be there to share that moment with Seoyeon, you knew that would make her so happy and you were desperate to see her overjoyed again.

You saw his smile slowly fade as he looked at something behind the computer. He messed his hair with one hand and you knew how stressed he was just by that gesture.

"I wish I could, but the brand is releasing a new collection two days after her birthday. I can't go. My head is already exploding because of this and at that week it's gonna be so messy… I'm sorry." He looked at you with sad eyes and you couldn't help feeling disappointed, but you looked down and nodded your head.

"I wish you could come."

"Yeah, me too."

You two stared at each other for some time, both of you thinking about the hardships the distance was creating on your lifes. You wanted to find a way to make things easier, but it had been so hard… When you were about to speak again you felt the shuffle on the mattress and soon an arm was being wrapped around your middle pulling you to lay against your boyfriend's chest.

"Oh. Hi, Jaehyun! I didn't know you were talking." Johnny said looking at the other in the screen with a smirk and you could see that the expression on Jaehyun's face had changed as soon as he saw that you two weren’t alone anymore. You moved your body trying to sit straight, but the arm around you kept you glued to the naked chest behind you.

"Yes, but we just finished talking tho." His eyes moved to stare at you for a moment as he nodded. "I gotta get going or I’ll be late. Good night, y/n." Before you could wish him a good day he ended the call.

You sighed loudly and put your hands over your face rubbing it, you felt defeated. How were you supposed to tell your daughter that the only thing she wanted on her birthday she couldn't get? You just wanted to make one thing right and it has been so difficult lately.

"Hey, babe." You heard Johnny calling you while he hugged you from behind, he started pressing butterfly kisses on your shoulder and caress your hip with his thumbs while you stared at the screen in front of you feeling desolated. "I know you wanted to make a surprise for Seoyeon, but it's not your fault Jaehyun can't come to spend her birthday… You shouldn't feel guilty about it."

"I know… But she looks so discouraged lately, maybe if he came she would feel a little happier. I don't know." You sighed and ran a hand through your hair. You have been stressed for days, always trying to make Seoyeon smile more since she has been weirdly quiet for some time now, but all you tried was unsuccessful. You thought that maybe having Jaehyun here would make both of you feel better. Or, it would make Seoyeon feel happier and you relieved because of her.

"She's still adapting. That's completely normal for children of her age that suffer changes on their routine. She's going back to her self behavior once she starts at the kindergarten and have children of her age to play." You felt his grip on your waist tighten as he moved his lips from your shoulders to your neck giving you open mouth kissed. "You are too stressed, babe. Let me help you relax." You squeezed your eyes together sighing softly at Johnny's touches. All you wanted was to lean on his touch and let him do whatever he wanted to you, but your head was so full, going from work to Seoyeon and to Jaehyun and back to your daughter trying to make the best decision for her that you couldn't give your boyfriend the attention he deserved right now and you hated having sex thinking about something else that wasn't the man touching you.

"John." You felt one of his hands slide under your shirt to touch your breast and the other slip inside your sweatpants rubbing his finger over your clothed core. You hold back a moan and moved your body softly trying to push his hand away. "Baby, I'm tired. I can't give you attention right now."

You felt Johnny smirk against your neck before giving it a hard suck. He kept his hand over your core applying pressure on your clit as the other fiddle with your nipples. "Love, I just want to take care of you. Uhm? I know you want it." He chuckled low against your ear while rubbing his lips against it. He slipped his hand inside your panties and used two fingers to circle your lips slowly, before moving to rub your clit. You leaned back against him while he worked on you, but you couldn’t get aroused, it was only making you uncomfortable. You tried to let go, but Johnny knew you way too well. He sighed against your neck and pulled away his hands once he realized that you weren’t getting wet. You tuned to look at him as he moved to lay on his side of the bed pulling the blanket on top of him.

“John. I’m sorry, I...”

“I really don’t get it.” He shook his head looking down. “What is going on? Am I doing something wrong?” You opened your mouth in a gasp and denied with your head quickly turning your body to fully look at him, you rested your hand on his thigh wanting to speak, but he continued. “You’ve been so distant lately, you always run away when I try to touch you. You don’t share with me what is going on on your mind anymore. I honestly don’t know what to do, I thought that by giving you space you would eventually open up to me again, but it is not happening.” He finally looked up at you, but you didn’t know what to say. You didn’t understand what was going on yourself. You keeped staring back at him, opening and closing your mouth as searching for an answer and when after a few seconds nothing came out, he scoffed and smiled humourless laying down.

“See? We’ll talk in the morning. Shift was tiring today.” That being said, he turned to face the window letting his back face you. You felt your heart drop to the floor as you looked at him, you closed your eyes and sighed deeply before move to lay beside him facing the ceiling.

“You did nothing wrong. I just don’t know what is going on either.” You whispered after a few minutes, but you didn't know if he was asleep already. You tried to do the same, but you couldn’t sleep that night.

♡

It wasn’t unusual for you to wake up in the middle of the night to some noise coming from the baby monitor, after all Seoyeon was a very active child so sometimes she would wake up play and talk with her stuffed toys and after a few minutes drift off. You worried that could be caused by insomnia, but Johnny assured you that was not something you should be worried about. You liked to hear her talking with the toys it always made you smile, but this time the only thing you heard was soft steps against the floor and the door opening. You waited a little to see if she would come to your bedroom, maybe scared of some nightmare. When she didn’t, you quickly stood up from the bed to making your way to her, not bothering to be quiet since you weren’t sharing the bed that night. You checked her bedroom and the playroom, but she was nowhere to be seen. You couldn’t help feeling worried at that, but as you walked further the hall you saw a blue light coming from the living room that wasn’t supposed to be on.

Once you reached the room, you saw your baby sitting on the floor in front of the computer you had left opened on the center table just a few hours before. You sighed relieved, but the scene in front of you was odd and it was something you never thought you would wake up to. She was typing, but you knew she was just mimicking what you usually did, you could hear her whines since she wasn’t getting what she wanted. You approached her and sat on the floor beside the struggling toddler watching her for a few seconds waiting for her to notice you, but she was too focused trying to guess your password.

“Hey, missy. What do you think you are doing?” You poked her butt and said softly, almost in a whisper not wanting to startle her. As soon as she turned to look at you you knew something was wrong, she had tears welled up in her eyes and the pout on her tiny lips she always had before she started crying. Your features softened on the spot and reached to cup her face with both hands ans caress her cheeks softly. “Oh, baby… What’s wrong?” Her pout became bigger as she tried to hold back her tears, you noticed she was hugging her teddy lion tightly against her chest. Seoyeon tuned back to look at the screen and touched it carefully with her fingers.

“I want daddy.”

Hearing that made your heart sink, you froze. Only on that moment realized how big your mistake was. You never thought your daughter would miss your ex-husband so much. She always talked about Jaehyun, at those times it felt normal to you, especially because she would ask about him daily even when you were still in Korea, but you have never seen her face like that. She was always a bright kid that smiled at everything and everybody and the look on her face right now, so sad and broken showed you that she wasn’t as happy as she used to be. Thinking back at the last weeks you realized that her behavior was weird, she wasn't as excited about things as she was before. Now you realized why. And at that thought you held her against your chest making up your mind about the thing that have been coming into your mind for a while.

♡

You used to be familiar with places like this. Clothes hangers being pushed around with little care not bothering to know who was walking on their way, people running from one place to another too busy and stressed to even remember eating sometimes, or maybe that was their excuse for not eating. Usually there would be some shouting and a lot of flashlights, all of this was part of that environment, but being away from it for a long time made it all fell overwhelming, you felt dizzy and lost with what surrounded you. However, what didn't match this stressful, but glamorous mess was a little girl jumping around and waving happily at every person that passed by her. You could tell she was delighted by all the attention she was being given, everyone made some time to kneel down to make a small talk with Seoyeon or at least return the wave she gave them.

You were trying to keep her by your side, afraid she would be knocked down by a rushed staff, but she looked so excited that you didn't want to hold her back and since you were told that there was no harm for her to walk around the place, you felt more relaxed.

"Seoyeon, this way." You called her when she walked past the hallway you were being lead to, too busy making new friends. Once you reached the big studio, you squatted down so you were in the same height as her, she was looking around amazed at all the exciting things happening. You smiled softly at her as you unbuttoned her coat.

"Hey, baby. Listen, you need to be a nice girl, okay? All these people are working and we don’t want to disturb them. We'll sit at the corner for a bit and wait until-.." You couldn't finish your sentence, because as soon as you took the coat off her, she ran away from your arms letting a high pitched scream fall from her lips. You stood up and tried to run after her, but there were too many people on your way. Struggling, you walked to the center of the studio, but when you saw the man in front of the cameras you stopped on your tracks. But Seoyeon didn't.

"DADDY!" Your daughter screamed as she ran into the set interrupting the photoshoot. You saw Jaehyun's head snap to the side with a frown wondering if he was hearing things, after all as far as he knew his daughter was thirteen hours away from him. But when he saw his toddler running in his direction, his eyes widened and he gapped loudly not really believing what was in front of him. He was clearly in shock, he would never expect that his daughter would be in his photoshoot in Seoul when he was told that she was going on a trip to the countryside to celebrate her birthday. The model only recovered from the shock when he felt the little arms around his legs. He laughed happily and reached down to pick his daughter up kissing all over her face and hugging her tightly to his chest not even remembering that he was in the middle of the studio and every staff was looking at the interaction between father and daughter. He pulled away so he could stare at his baby's face, as making sure that the little girl in his arms was, in fact, his.

"You- What- Seoyeon-" You could see Jaehyun was speechless.

You walked further stopping near to where the photographer rolled his eyes and shouted for a five minutes break leaving some time for his model to collect himself. The scene in front of you couldn't make you happier, you felt like breathing again. The way your daughter bounced in her father's arms, not being able to stay still because of how excited she was, talking happily about what happened on her way there, the way Jaehyun reacted overly surprised just to make her laugh and caressed her face tenderly. All of it made you feel at ease, you even forgot the chaos that surrounded you. Being able to see your daughter’s brightest smile again was like weight being lifted off your shoulders, and that made you be sure that, this time, your decisions were right.

You were brought back to reality when the director clapped his hands right by your side making you jump a little startled because of the loud sound.

"Okay. Break is over. Shall we resume? Jaehyun, is it okay?" He nodded at the model with a smile, you couldn't help thinking that being the most popular model in asia has its perks. Not being scolded when your daughter interrupted your work was one of them.

You saw him confirm with his head and look around searching for the responsible for bringing Seoyeon to Seoul. That being you, of course. Since he haven't seen you yet, you walked forwards to where they were, stopping right in front of him and smiled softly once his eyes laid on you.

You looked at each other for a moment, and for the second time in less than ten minutes, he didn't know what to say. He stared at you in a way that you couldn't read, his eyes were bright and delicate, but so intense that made you felt shy under his gaze.

"Give her to me. We'll wait until you are finished." You touched your daughter's back and reached for her, but she just held tighter to her dad.

"No! I don't want to leave daddy." You sighed and closed your eyes for a moment not ready for her to throw a tantrum in front of all those people.

"Seoyeon, your dad-"

"Baby, you'll just wait at the side with your mom, okay? Daddy has work to do now, but after we will celebrate your birthday the way you want it. The three of us." He had put the girl on the floor and spoke softly, assuring her that he wouldn't leave. And at the end, when he looked up at you like he was asking for approval, you couldn't help yourself but admire his face for a moment with a smile. You wondered if he had always been this stunning.

"Of course." You whispered making the brightest smile appear on his lips. With that, Seoyeon gave in and followed you off the set.

You saw Minjun, Jaehyun’s manager, waving at you and indicating two chairs behind the director that were brought for you. As you walked there, you could feel a stare on your back, knowing from who that was, you bite back a smile feeling a weird tickle on your stomach. Once you sat down, you locked eyes with him and mirrored the smile that was being directed to you. The gaze was only broken when the photographer asked Jaehyun to look back to the camera.

As the shoot proceeded, you turned to thank Minjun for helping you set up the little “surprise”. After realizing how badly Seoyeon have been missing her father, you decided that you would do whatever it took to make her be with him at her birthday. That’s why, two days ago, you bought the tickets and called Minjun to check if Jaehyun was going to be available for the day. When he heard about your plans he was more than happy, the told you that your ex-husband was feeling down lately for not being able to be with his daughter on her birthday. Luckily for both of them, Minjun managed to clear his schedule for the afternoon at that day, the two of you decided to keep it a secret. That’s why you told Jaehyun that you were going on a small trip to a place that wouldn’t have internet, he didn't like the idea of not talking to his daughter on her special day, but when she said that she was excited to the trip, he gave in. You flight was supposed to arrive one hour before he was done with his schedule, leaving enough time for Minjun pick you up at the airport and bring you to Jaehyun’s apartment. However, the flight arrived two hours before the foreseen, that’s why you were asked to meet him at his work. You didn’t like Seoyeon to be exposed to her dad’s work, because her face could easily go to the internet and then she would never be left alone by again. You never liked to be in the center of attentions either, when you and Jaehyun dated you would avoid cameras at all costs, but today you didn’t really had a choice.

As the time when by, you kept your eyes on the little toddler that wanted to leave the chair at every opportunity she had. “Every opportunity” could also be read as every time you spared a glance at Jaehyun. It was a fact that he was the best at his job. Everything fit him so well, the clothes, the light, the concept, maybe that’s why you felt some type of way watching him.

When for the fifth time Seoyeon tried to run away, you stood up and holded her hand.

“Do you wanna walk around? Let’s walk around. But you can’t let go of mommy’s hand, okay?” She nodded excitedly before tugging on your hand. Minjun explained you how to get to Jaehyun’s dressing room, saying that if you wanted you could wait there. You thanked him and gave Jaehyun one last look before leaving the studio with your daughter.

The two of you wandered around for a few minutes, but soon you realized that the toddler was getting sleepy, you didn’t blame her. Even sleeping during the flight, you knew travels were tiring for kids. You brought her to where Jaehyun was supposed to change and let her take a nap on the couch as you waited for him. You rested her head on your lap and watched her with a smile, not even noticing when you dozed off.

You were awakened when you felt a hand on your knee, caressing it softly. You quickly opened your eyes not familiar with the surroundings and the first thing you saw was Jaehyun squatted in front of you, your body relaxed at his sight. You noticed that he didn’t have any makeup on anymore and was wearing his own clothes. He smiled at you softly seeing you rubbing your eyes and sitting straight.

“Sorry to wake you up, but I’m done with the shooting.”

“No problem. I actually shouldn’t be sleeping.” You smiled back lazily, he looked down at his asleep daughter and reached to caress her face with his fingers tips. You couldn’t look away from him when he had such a tender expression on his face.

“By the way. I’m not complaining, but care to explain what’s going on?” He had a teasing grin on his lips when he laughed, moving to stare back at you. You didn’t feel like that was the right place and time to tell him everything was going on, so you just shrugged lightly before speaking.

“I have been thinking a lot lately and I realized I made a lot of mistakes by setting you two apart. I'm just trying to fix them. I hope you can forgive me one day.”

author’s note: Hello!! It took me a while i know and i’m sorry!!! But i hope you guys like it!! And yes there’s gonna be a part 4, the last one. I really appreciate feedbacks. I dont feel very proud of this chapter, but... anyway. Thank you for reading <3

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doc-pickles · 3 years ago

Text

hoping, dreaming, dying to keep

And all at once, you are all I want, I'll never let you go

King of my heart, body and soul

“You know, I found your husband.”

The voice in the doorway of the lounge made Jo look up in shock, brows furrowing as she comprehended what Alex had just said. “What?”

“I hired a guy. I found his name. I looked him up,” Alex paused, gauging Jo’s reaction as he relayed his actions. “And then I went and found him.”

“Oh, my God, Alex.”

“Look. You didn't ask me to do that, and you didn't give me permission to do that, and it was wrong, and I'm sorry. But Jo, I swear to God, I could never, ever hurt you,” Alex wore a pitiful expression as he looked at Jo, obviously hoping she would hear him out. “My dad, he was like your ex. I'm not like that, all right? I'm not like my dad. I mean, I do things that are wrong. I do things that are stupid. But I swear to you I would never hurt you.”

Jo let Alex’s words sink in, heart pounding as she realized that Alex had gone behind her back, “You saw Paul?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you serious? After I told you what I went through you just went behind my back and found Paul,” Jo ran a hand through her hair as she fought back tears. “I’ve spent so many years hiding from him and you just what? Found him on the internet? What if he figures out where I am? What then?” “Jo I-”

“No this… This is unforgivable. I’m sorry Alex but I don’t think I can trust you again after this,” Jo turned away from Alex, attempting to stem her tears long enough for her to get herself alone. “Can you just leave? Please?”

There’s a long pause and she almost thinks that he’s left her there before his voice pipes up, “I’m sorry Jo. Really I am.” Once she hears him leave the lounge and shut the door behind himself, Jo let’s a few quiet tears escape. She contemplates running, leaving everything behind once again and starting over. But she’s built a life here in Seattle, Alex be damned. She wasn’t going to let Paul or her fear keep her from living her life. If Paul became an issue again then she’d face the problem when it was standing in front of her. She wasn’t the same scared girl she used to be, she was a fighter and she could handle this.

“The Heparin should have helped by now. I think I made the wrong call.”

Jo’s heart drops as she approaches Alex and Amelia. She had run herself ragged around the hospital trying to find an answer only for her search to be useless.

“Wait. Heparin? No. I texted,” Alex turns at the sound of her voice, eyeing her warily. “They didn't reverse him.”

“Damn it. We can't access the reversal agent,” Alex looks at Amelia, who nods at him as she moves into the room. “Prep him to move.”

“What is it? What's wrong,” Frankie’s mom is frantic as Helm and Amelia begin to prep Frankie.

“Frankie's AVM might be bleeding. We've got to get him to the O.R. now.”

“But the medicine you gave him. It was supposed to help.”

“I'm sorry. We need to go.”

Amelia and Helm push Frankie out of the room, his mom hot on their heels. Jo watches them, her teeth gnawing on her bottom lip in worry. Finally she looks up to Alex who hasn’t moved from his spot next to her.

“Hey. I'm so sorry. I texted. It didn't go through. And then…”

“And then what,” Jo is expecting anger from Alex but instead his voice is laced with concern as he places a hand on her shoulder. “Jo, what’s wrong?”

She doesn’t know why the words slip out so easily for her but as Jo looks at Alex she can’t help herself, “Paul is here. I… I saw him downstairs.”

She doesn’t need to say anything else as Alex steps forward and wraps his arms around her, pulling her close as she takes a few shuddering breaths, “Why don’t you come sit in the gallery while Amelia and I operate? That way you aren’t totally alone.”

Jo nods, silently agreeing to Alex’s plan as they walked down the hall towards the OR. Jo stops a few feet away from the scrub room, gripping Alex’s arm tightly. In front of them sits Paul Stadler, fixing his shoe covers without a care in the world. Alex quickly turns to Jo, blocking her from Paul’s view.

“I’m in OR 3, go up to the gallery and don’t move until I come up later,” Alex watched as Jo let out a shaky breath and nodded, eyes still trained on Paul. “It’s gonna be alright Jo.”

Alex wants nothing more than to reach down and kiss Jo, to hold her tight as a comfort to both of them that things would be okay. Instead he watches her walk down the hallway, turning a corner and disappearing from his line of view, unknowingly carrying a large piece of his heart with her.

It’s late the next day when Alex walks Jo up to the door of the loft. After signing the divorce papers only for Paul to die a few hours later Jo had been through a lot. Alex had driven her home, making sure she got into the loft safely, “I’m gonna head out, do you need anything before I go?”

“Can you maybe just camp out on the couch tonight,” Jo sat on her bed, a ratty Princeton sweatshirt engulfing her a s she stared helplessly at Alex. “I just… I really don’t want to be alone tonight.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to intrude or anything,” Alex rubs the back of his neck nervously, glancing up at Jo who has tears welling in her eyes. “Hey, don’t cry. I’ll stay okay?”

Jo sucks in a deep breath before a sob breaks from her, “I’m just really shaken up. I don’t want to be alone again. I know… I know that Paul is dead but I can’t stop my mind from playing worst case scenarios on an endless loop.

Alex closes the gap between them and pulls Jo into his arms as she continues to cry. He wanted nothing more than to hold her all night, comfort her the way she wanted. But he knew that wasn’t his place anymore so he started on the couch, the same one Jo had bought him. He leapt up when Jo was startled awake by a nightmare, comforting her until she drifted back to sleep. He feels selfish for loving the way her body so easily curls against his, but if this is the only way he can have Jo then so be it.

“You get ditched already too?” Jo jumps at the voice that sounds behind her, louder than the crowded room around her. She turns with a small grin as she meets Alex’s eyes, “Yeah I came down with Meredith but as soon as we got here she went off with Hayes. I’m pretty sure they already left.”

“Well if I was having the amount of sex they were having I wouldn’t want to stick around at some stuffy party either,” Alex takes a long gulp of his beer, Jo eyeing him for just a moment too long. His eyes glance over her and she can almost hear the gears in his brain turning. “What’s that look for?”

Jo gulps her own red wine, feeling a blush creep up from her neck to her cheeks, “Nothing, I just haven’t gotten laid in a pathetically long time. I don’t have time for casual sex.”

A deep laugh escapes Alex and the sound vibrates through Jo’s body, lighting her up with an electricity she hadn’t felt in far too long. Her eyes meet his, a grin forming on his cheeks, and before Alex could say anything else she was speaking, one hand pressing a finger into his chest, “Don’t say it!”

“I didn’t say anything!” “Yes but you have that cocky grin that you always used to wear when you thought you were going to get laid,” Jo narrows her eyes in Alex’s direction as his smirk widens. “Don’t even think about it, I am not going home with you.”

The moment isn’t as tense or awkward as Jo would’ve assumed, instead the same electricity fluttering around her chest was now buzzing around her and Alex. Even though they’d been broken up for over a year and a half now, their chemistry was still there burning just as strong as ever.

“You said it yourself, you haven’t gotten laid in awhile. We could help each other out,” Jo hates how her body reacts to him, melting at the mere suggestion of having sex. “It could be a no strings attached kind of thing, you know just scratching an itch.”

“And you think that you and I could be no strings attached? After all, we do have a history.”

The way their eyes meet then confirms for Jo that no matter what she says next her body is going to betray her and give into the primal urge building up rapidly within her. Alex’s eyes are dark and filled with a sense of longing as he stares at her, fingers reaching out to grab her hand, “There’s only one way to find out.”

They barely make it to Alex’s car before their hands are all over each other, clothing being ripped away as they fall into the backseat in a whirlwind of moans and gasps. It feels as if no time has passed between them as she and Alex fall over the edge together, heavy breaths echoing around them as Jo rests her cheek against his chest.

His heartbeat sounding in her ear comforts her in a way she’d forgotten about, never lingering like this with any of her one night stands or casual flings. She almost lets herself get caught up in the feeling before Alex’s voice rings in her ear.

“So… no strings attached?”

She knows she’s had a drink too many when she let’s Alex’s arms wrap around her waist, her body melting at his touch despite the fact that they were surrounded by their friends and coworkers. Meredith and Hayes had said their vows hours earlier, the couple happily dancing with all five of their combined children as everyone around them celebrated.

“Let’s get out of here,” Alex’s breath is burning hot against her neck, his presence overwhelming all of her senses. “I’ve got a room upstairs.” “Aren’t you supposed to stick around since you’re the man of honor,” Jo turns in his embrace and settles her hands on Alex’s chest as she fixes him with a stern look. “I don’t think Mer will be too happy to look around and find you missing.”

Alex rolls his eyes as his hands snake down to her waist, pulling her closer to him, “She’ll live. Now c'mon, I've been staring at you in that dress all night and all I’ve wanted is to take it off of you.”

The rest of the night is a blur, Jo and Alex falling into bed with each other multiple times before they finally succumb to sleep. It’s not until late the next afternoon when she wakes up in his embrace that Jo realizes that they hadn’t used any protection. Staring at Alex’s sleeping form she decides to keep that revelation to herself, dressing quietly and slipping out the hotel room before he can wake up.

+ The next few weeks are excruciating, Jo avoiding Alex at any and all costs. They’d usually meet up at least once a week, but she’d been ignoring his texts and avoiding the peds floor whenever possible. She knew Alex could tell something was wrong, even before they’d started their ‘no strings attached’ relationship they’d see each other around the hospital or at Joe’s. But since Meredith and Hayes’ wedding she’d given him the cold shoulder, her anxious mind spinning out as she played over what their future might look like.

It’s a month after the wedding when she finally gets hit with a bout of nausea in the middle of rounds. She barely makes it out of the patient room and to the trashcan in the hallway before her breakfast is reappearing in front of her, a sinking feeling settling in her stomach as she shoos her group of residents away. Once she’s confident that she won’t throw up again, Jo finds herself darting to the nearest supply closet and grabbing a pregnancy test.

She’s known in the back of her head for almost a week but she hadn’t dared to confirm the growing suspicion lingering there. Now however there would be no more denying as what she assumed was morning sickness and the accompanying nausea had plagued her since rolling out of bed that morning.

“C’mon, just tell me already,” Jo mumbles the words to herself as she stares down at the two tests resting on the bathroom counter in the attendings lounge.

“Jo? You okay?” The question is met with a knock on the bathroom door but before Jo can answer the person on the other side the timer on her phone is blaring, startling her into knocking both tests and her still sounding phone onto the floor. She scrambles to pick everything up just as the door swings open, Alex standing before her with a worried expression on his face.

Great, just what I needed.

She’s about to speak when she follows his line of sight to the two plastic tests sitting right in front of his feet, both brandishing a bright pink plus sign. Jo picks the tests up quickly but she knows the damage has already been done. When she stands up and faces Alex her mind immediately flashes back to the night he proposed to her in the loft. His face has the same mix of heartache and hurt that it had that day two years ago and Jo’s own heart twists as she meets his eyes.

“Oh.” The word slips from Alex’s mouth easily and his eyes dart to Jo’s abdomen. Before he can say anything else Jo is speaking in a nervous tangent, “I was throwing up this morning and I’ve already suspected for a few weeks, well I assumed something might have happened since we weren’t exactly careful at the wedding and I was just waiting for this stupid stick to turn pink and then-”

“You knew?,” Alex’s voice stops her nervous tangent, blinking up at him in confusion. “You knew, or you thought you might know, and you didn’t say anything to me?”

“Well I wasn’t for sure about it-” “But you knew we didn’t use protection? And that you might be pregnant for weeks and you didn’t say anything. Instead you just avoided me the whole time,” Jo could feel Alex’s anger rising as his brain worked through the situation at hand. “Were you even going to tell me you were pregnant if I hadn’t shown up just now?”

“Of course I was! But I didn’t think I needed to keep you in the loop on every little thing in my life seeing as you’re not my boyfriend,” Jo crosses her arms as she stares down Alex, her own anger boiling under her skin. “You were the one that insisted on this being no strings attached, well that’s exactly what you’ve got! I’ll let you know when I book an appointment, other than that don’t expect to hear from me.” Jo brushes past Alex, ignoring his calls to her as she walks briskly out of the attendings lounge. She would deal with the repercussions later, for now all she wanted was to be left alone and to be as far away from Alex as possible.

Weeks pass by and true to her word Jo doesn't contact Alex except to tell him about her first ultrasound. He misses the appointment, an emergency surgery calling him away half an hour beforehand, and Jo feels a small twinge of sadness as she tucks the ultrasound into his wallet. While part of her is still upset with him, another part is sad that he wasn’t able to experience the appointment with her.

“Wilson I’ve got a patient in room 4 that needs a consult,” Hunt’s voice booms from behind her and Jo turns to meet his eye. “Car crash victim with minor injuries. Do you mind grabbing it? We’re filling up fast here.”

Jo nods, grabbing an iPad and bringing up the electronic chart. She feels like crap, even though she’s approaching the 12 week mark she’s still plagued with nausea and heartburn most days. Her stomach now has the slightest curve to it and Jo can’t help but run her hand over the small bump throughout the day.

“Hi Mr. Greene, my name is Doctor Wilson and I’m-“

“I don’t really care who you are, I’m not staying in this damn hospital,” the older man seems disgruntled, sitting on the edge of the gurney and fixing Jo with a glare. “I’m perfectly fine anyways.”

Despite what he says, the man has a large gash across his forehead and his right arm is clearly bothering him. Jo takes his reluctance in stride, taking another step towards the bed, “I just want to check out that cut on your forehead and make sure it doesn’t get infected. It looks like you might need stitches.” “I told you I’m fine! I don’t trust any of you doctors.”

“Well we’re going to have to keep you for obser-“

Before she can move out of the way, the man is springing up from the gurney and lunging towards her. His hands grab her arms roughly and slam her into the wall of the trauma room. Jo can feel her head smack against the plaster as she lets a scream out, eyes screwing shut as she tries not to let her racing mind overwhelm her.

Paul. Running away. Jason. Fighting back. DeLuca. Mistakes. Alex. Heartbreak. Her baby… Her baby. Her baby.

Suddenly the pressure against her arms releases and Jo opens her eyes in time to see Alex pulling the now screaming patient away from her. Instead of the angry and visceral reaction she’s expecting from him, Jo watches as Alex pulls the patient away just long enough to let Owen sedate him. As soon as he hands him off, Alex is in front of her, his hands now resting on her shoulders as he looks her over. She’s frozen in place, her body shaking involuntarily as she tries to stop the panic attack she can feel coming on.

“Are you okay? Jo?”

“Um yeah, I think so. I hit my head pretty hard but I’m okay,” she can hear the way her voice is trembling as she meets Alex’s eyes. “I’m fine, I’m okay. I’m fine, really I’m fine.” She keeps repeating the words as Alex pulls her into him, tears floating down her cheeks as her chest constricts tightly. Jo has been through her share of scary situations before, she’s been beaten within an inch of her life but she’s never been this scared. She’s never had to worry about someone else before but right now all she could think about was if her baby had somehow been hurt.

“Do you want me to page Carina to check you out?”

Any other day she would have brushed off concerns from anyone about her well-being but Jo’s anxiety is already peaking and she doesn’t want to leave anything to chance. She nods slowly, listening as Alex asks Owen to page Carina and then leads her out of the room.

Hours later Jo is crawling into bed, ready for the day to be over. Her head is pounding but she’d been instructed to stay awake for a few hours following her injury to make sure she truly was okay. After having both Amelia and Carina poke and prod her, she was more than ready to lay in bed until late tomorrow.

“Your meds are on the counter and I filled up a water bottle for you to keep on your side table,” Jo gazes up at Alex who's standing in front of her, a concerned yet genuine smile on his face as he looks at her. “You need anything else before I head out?” “Stay.” Alex pauses only for a second, his expression showing his shock and hope for only a second before he schools his emotions once again, “I don’t wanna intrude. But you can call me if you need anything.” “No I want you to stay Alex,” Jo sits up in bed, despite how tired her body is and fixes Alex with a sincere gaze. An alarming sense of deja vu comes over her as she remembers a similar conversation happening after Paul’s death. Jo had wanted Alex to stay with her and crawl into bed beside her, seeking his comfort after the traumatic events. But always the gentlemen Alex had stayed true to his word and stuck to the couch, except to comfort her in the middle of the night. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about my suspicions, but I swear as soon as I knew I was going to tell you.” “You didn’t need to tell me anything Jo, I was overreacting. I panicked and I’m sorry.”

Jo shakes her head, eyes watering as she reaches for Alex’s hand, “I don’t care about any of that. You… When you pulled that patient off of me I was convinced that you were going to lunge at him or.... It doesn’t matter what I thought, what matters is that you kept your cool and you made sure I was okay. You showed me that you’ve changed.”

“Of course I did Jo, you mean a lot to me,” Alex moves his free hand up to cup Jo’s cheek and swipe at the few tears that had collected there.

“And you mean so much to me Alex, more than you know. I know we’ve been through alot but I still care about you. And I don’t want to continue this stupid ‘no strings attached’ thing we have going.” “Oh… Okay.” A grin spreads across Jo’s face as she leans up, pressing her forehead against Alex’s, “I mean I want more with you. I don’t want random hookups or meaningless sex, I want the whole thing. I want you here with me every night. And I want to raise our baby together. I love you Alex, so much. It might’ve taken me a while to realize it but I want it all with you.”

Alex doesn’t bother responding, instead he leans forward and kisses her sweetly. Relief floods Jo as she tangles her fingers in his hair, the stress and pain of the day melting away as she leans into Alex.

“I love you too. And I’m really glad you’re both okay,” Alex’s hand slides down to the small bump that had grown in just days beforehand, a smile taking over his face as he did so. “You have a bump!”

“Pretty sure it’s all bloat but there’s definitely a baby in there,” Jo let’s a small laugh out as she covers his hand with her own. “We’re sure doing everything out of order aren't we?”

“Have we ever done anything the easy way?”

#jo wilson #jo karev #alex karev #jo x alex #jolex #jolex fanfic #greys anatomy #greys anatomy fanfic #tsjolexweek21 #nina writes #jolex fanfiction

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spencers-renaissance · 4 years ago

Text

Start With This

Summary: Luke accidentally hurts Spencer because they are both hopelessly stupid, but when Spencer's faced with a dangerous situation there's nothing he wants more than Luke. Calling him turns out to be a very good decision.

Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff, Misunderstandings, Making Up, Getting Together

Pairing: Luke x Spencer

Word Count: 3.9k

Warnings: implied/mentioned sexual assault, more detailed cw on the end notes of the AO3 post <3

Read on AO3

Luke knows he’s getting obvious. His subtlety has completely thrown itself out the window, his dignity’s in the wind, and he’s so, so painfully aware of it all.

He was probably in love with Spencer before he even met the man: his reputation had preceded him -- as he’d told him that first day in the briefing room -- and the way his friends talked about him, the gentleness he seemed to possess along with the dynamite intelligence of a 187 IQ had his stomach fluttering as he walked in to meet him for the first time. And hadn’t that just sealed the deal.

Spencer’s face as he walked into the room feels like it’s been permanently burned into the back of his eyelids ever since. He’s not sure what he’d been expecting but it certainly wasn’t someone so adorable. He’d been so open and welcoming and they’d hit it off straight away, every look shared between them, every joint task on the case in Arizona had him buzzing with excitement. If he could spend every waking moment with Spencer, he would.

And he’s been so good at keeping it under wraps, but lately the looks the girls and Rossi have been sending his way are a bit too… knowing. Like they see right through him. It’s terrifying, really. He’s never had a bad coming out story, mostly because he didn’t until his late twenties when it was much less taboo to be gay and he was surrounded by people who cared far too much about him as a person to care about who he fucked. But he’s also never had a crush on a coworker before, not even a friend, so to be under so much scrutiny in a situation that feels so out of his depths is overwhelming to say the least.

The next case they take on, then, he takes extra caution to be subtle. He volunteers to pair up with others before Emily can assign him something with Spencer; he ignores the looks he directs his way and leaves him behind to room with JJ while he pairs up with Steven. Maybe it’s even more obvious, maybe the looks he’s getting now are far harder to deal with than the ones before but he’s made his bed. Now he’ll lie in it.

And he’ll pointedly refuse to acknowledge the hurt looks Spencer is shooting his way. It’s better to ruffle a few feathers now and get over his crush than ruin such a good friendship and drive a wedge through the team, even if his gut twists and his heart protests as Spencer furrows his brow and looks at his feet.

★

Spencer is fully aware that his chances with Luke are slim to none -- he’s not delusional -- but boy does it hurt being avoided like the plague. It takes him back to school, when he was either politely ignored, mocked from a distance or straight up bullied, when nobody could associate themselves with him without risking a beating of their own.

As soon as the case is over, he declines Emily’s invitation to go for a drink at her place with the rest of the team, instead opting to go out by himself. There’s a small, hole-in-the-wall joint a few blocks from his apartment that he’s been to a few times; it’s low-key and reasonably quiet, and the food is nice, too. It’ll do him good, he thinks, to get out of his head a bit with a few drinks and a book or three. He’s met the guy who owns the place a few times, and no-one pays enough attention to care that he’s reading a book at a bar instead of solemnly staring into a pint or gyrating on the dance floor, neither of which especially appeal to him.

As predicted, the bar is quiet, so he orders a drink and some nachos and heads to a table in the back. He used to hate bars; so full of people and germs he tended to avoid them at all costs. Now though, he finds the background noise soothing, the chatter and music a comforting backdrop to his own isolation. And on days like today, after difficult cases and tricky emotional minefields to navigate, it’s the perfect setting to sit quietly and read, far more preferable than the deafening silence of his apartment.

For some reason, though, he simply cannot get his mind off Luke. He was so hopelessly gone for him and it was making everyday tasks that much harder. Even psyching himself up to get out of bed and go to work was proving more and more difficult: knowing he would have to face the man he loved so much who clearly did not love him back was bordering on psychological torture at this point.

His one saving grace, though, was that he’d always been able to take refuge in the fact that they were friends. That even if he could never have Luke kiss him or take him on a date or sleep in his bed, he could have his friendship. He’d have the warm smiles and hugs and inside jokes and that would be enough. But now even that was seeming like a farflung pipe dream. Had he figured him out? Did he realise Spencer’s feelings for him and feel disgusted? Violated even?

It’s only after Spencer’s been reading the same page over and over for nearly 10 minutes that he gives up and orders another drink. If he can’t distract himself, he may as well drown his sorrows now he’s here.

And drown them he does. He finally stumbles onto the pavement outside the bar in the small hours of the morning feeling a little dazed and confused, and he squints his eyes as he tries to get his bearings. He lives round here, he knows that much, but where? He’s looking around for a taxi when a man he’d seen sitting not far from him in the bar approaches him.

“Hey, baby,” he grins, checking Spencer out as obviously as he’d been doing inside.

It takes Spencer’s mind only a few seconds to recognise that he’s in a potentially vulnerable or dangerous situation but he can’t for the life of him sort through his muddled brain fast enough to figure out the correct response, here. Instead he stares dumbly at the man in front of him, trying to not look as scared as he feels.

“You looking for a good time?” the man asks, reaching a hand forward to pet crudely at his face. Spencer wishes his flinch wasn’t so obviously borne from terror, but he’s sad and drunk and confused so all he can do is shake his head aggressively and back away. “Aww, come on. I’m a catch, I promise.”

Spencer jumps back further, his back hitting a brick wall as he finally finds his voice. “No, leave me alone, thank you,” he says, trying to sound firm but only sounding scared shitless. The man is huge, Spencer is not, and the street is quiet. Spencer does not like any of these variables, let alone a cocktail made from them.

The man laughs cruelly, but before he gets a chance to respond another beefy guy he recognises from inside the bar comes over, cigarette in his hand, and clocks the situation. “Oi,” he shouts aggressively, approaching the two of them. “Who the fuck do you think you are? Dude said no.”

“Oh yeah? And what are you gonna do about it?”

Before Spencer can blink, the beefy guy punches his assailant square in the eye, causing him to cuss them both out before telling Spencer he isn’t even worth the trouble and leaving to lick his wounds. “Hey, you okay?” the beefy dude asks, voice much softer when talking to Spencer. “You need me to call someone?”

At this moment, the only person Spencer wants is Luke. He’s shaken up and so sad, and even if Luke is sort of the reason for that, he has to try, right? Maybe… maybe he just was having a bad day and it isn’t Spencer at all. He could call JJ but even her cuddles wouldn’t scratch the itch that’s burning away at his skin, so he finally shakes his head at the guy looking at him with concern. “No, no it’s okay,” he says slowly, voice catching a little. “I know who to call.”

★

Luke also says no to Emily’s invitation, instead heading back to his own place and cracking open a bottle of wine before plonking himself in front of the team and appreciating the cuddles Roxy chooses to bestow on him. He throws in an oven pizza sometime around 11pm and eats it, laughing humourlessly at the scene for a moment. God, if his colleagues could see just how pathetic he is Emily would have to boot him off the team.

The wine and the warm temperature of the room have him dozing off on the sofa by midnight but he’s woken up abruptly by his phone ringing not long after. The clock on the wall says 1.50am so this is either a case or an emergency; blearily he picks it up to see Spencer’s name on the screen and he can’t slide his finger to answer it fast enough.

“Spencer?” he asks, voice full of concern.

The only reply is a choked off sob, making Luke sit up on high alert. “Spence, what’s wrong?” his voice is gentle but determined, he wants to know what’s wrong so he can fix it damnit.

“Can you-- Can you come and get me?” Spencer asks tearfully. He sounds hesitant like he thinks Luke might say no or be angry with him which doesn’t make any sense. He’d never feel like that, not for anything Spencer needs from him.

“Of course,” he reassures him, gently, still a little bewildered by the absurdity of it all. He springs into action and leaps off the sofa, slipping into some trainers and grabbing his keys. “Where are you, Spence? I’m on my way to the car.”

Spencer rattles off an address before he says, “Wait, don’t go, can you stay on the phone with me?”

Luke’s heart damn near melts at that but he obeys and stays on the phone with him, mumbling platitudes and promising he’s on his way the whole five minute drive until he pulls up in front of the address Spencer gave him, immediately spotting the younger man hunched down against a wall. He parks the car quickly and rushes over, crouching down in front of Spencer and gently pulling his head away from his knees so he can look into his eyes. He immediately recognises he’s drunk and sighs internally, hoping this won’t be too impossible.

“Hey, Spence, what’s going on?” he asks earnestly, holding onto the man’s forearms partially to help steady himself and partially to offer a noninvasive point of contact for Spencer.

“Sad,” Spencer says, looking into Luke’s eyes with wide, honest eyes. “You’re angry at me.”

“What?” Luke asks incredulously. “I’m not angry at you, Spencer.”

“Yes,” Spencer nods enthusiastically. “You wanted to work with other people on the case today. You were ignoring me.”

He’s not quite slurring his words but it’s close, and if Luke wasn’t so concerned about the situation at hand he’d find it adorable. “Oh, Spencer, no,” he protests, a sinking feeling in his chest. His own insecurities and fears had got the better of him and he’d managed to make Spencer feel bad about himself. “That was unrelated and not your fault at all, okay? It’s complicated and definitely not a conversation to have on the ground outside a bar at 2am, but we can talk about it somewhere else if you’d like. Do you want me to take you back to your place?”

Spencer looks back at him. “No, don’t want to be alone, please don’t leave me on my own, Luke,” he says, eyes wide in fear this time, not honesty.

“Okay, okay,” he placates him. “Would you like to come back to mine?”

Spencer launches forward to hug Luke, burying his face into his neck and Luke takes the opportunity to relish the feeling of Spencer’s lithe body against his own, the intimacy he craves so deeply finally being awarded in a small way. “Should I take that as a yes?” he chuckles.

As soon as they get into Luke’s apartment, he gets to sobering Spencer up. He’d managed to pry the number of drinks he’d had out of him in the car, and as soon as they get back he butters him some toast and gives him a glass of water to drink on the sofa while he fills up another glass and grabs some advil.

“How’s that, Spence, are you okay?” he asks softly as he joins him on the sofa where Spencer is dutifully munching down the toast while late-night TV plays in the background.

“Yeah,” he whispers, smiling up at Luke, already looking more lucid than he did on the street, though he suspects part of the reason was he was scared and a bit disoriented then and now feels safe. “Thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me, Spencer,” he smiles back, patting his knee affectionately as he pours him another glass of water. “Have your toast and another glass of water and then you can have a shower, if you like. It’ll help ground you and warm you up a bit.”

Spencer’s compliant through it all, which is obviously desirable, but he’s also quiet. He takes the hoodie Luke chucks his way without comment and slips it on -- Luke very pointedly does not think about how good he looks -- before looking to him for his next direction.

His eyes are much clearer now and he seems far more sad than drunk, so Luke steers him back to the sofa and hands him a blanket. “Hey, Spencer,” he says, waiting for him to look up before continuing. “What’s going on? Why did you need me to pick you up?”

Spencer fidgets with the blanket as he answers. “Well, I went to the bar to stop thinking, like distract myself, but it didn’t really work so I just decided to have some wine instead, which was really nice and I liked the fuzziness, but then when I left there was this man. He came up to me and was trying to… like he was trying to ask me to sleep with him,” he risks a quick look up to check if Luke is listening to him but averts his eyes from the intense stare when he realises he is. “But I couldn’t remember what I was supposed to do and I panicked but then this man came out of the bar and he punched the other guy and helped me but then I called you so he didn’t have to do anything else.” His voice is nervous as he talks, clearly unsure of himself from the way he darts around from point to point, his typical eloquence evading him.

“I’m sorry, Spencer,” Luke says, earnestly. “I’m sorry that happened to you but I’m even more sorry that you were sad enough to drown your sorrowsbecause of me. Tomorrow, I promise we can talk about this and I’ll explain everything, but right now I think you should sleep. You can take my bed or the sofa tonight, whichever one makes you feel more comfortable, and then I’ll make you whatever you want for breakfast in the morning and we can chat. How does that sound?”

Spencer looks satisfied for now, cocking his head to the side. “Hm, can I have pancakes?” he asks.

Luke laughs fondly at that, leaning forward to ruffle Spencer’s hair lightly as he tries not to read into it when Spencer leans into his touch. “Are you kidding?” he teases. “You’re looking at the pancake maker extraordinaire right here.” He relishes Spencer’s giggle at that, pleased at how relaxed he looks now he knows Luke isn’t angry at him. “Pancakes in the morning. For now, where would you like to sleep?”

“The sofa’s fine,” Spencer says softly, a small smile playing over his face as he follows Luke with his eyes as he stands up to collect some blankets and pillows. “Thank you, Luke.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” he smiles back, and hands him the extra blankets and cushions. “We’ll talk in the morning.”

★

Spencer wakes up to the sound of dog paws on wooden floors and is momentarily confused -- he does not have a dog nor wooden floors -- before the events of last night flood into his head with a crashing wave of humiliation. He sits up abruptly, blinking his eyes against the soft grey light of the gloomy day, and looks around until he meets Luke’s eyes where he’s sat drinking a cup of coffee at the dining table.

He knows he’s flushing an embarrassing shade of red but he can’t help it, this whole situation is so bizarre. “Good morning,” he finally says.

“Morning Spencer,” Luke says, hiding his far-too-wide smile behind his coffee mug. “Did you sleep okay?”

He just nods and hums in response, before excusing himself and rushing to the bathroom for a small semblance of privacy. Looking in the mirror, he splashes his face with some cold water and fiddles with his hair until it’s sat the way he wants it to before taking some deep breaths in a vain attempt at composure. He’s sort of in love with Luke, being in his apartment like this is mildly intoxicating.

Eventually, he surfaces back in the main living area where Luke’s already started on the pancakes. “Hey, you good?” he calls over his shoulder as he flips the pan, a delish smell intoxicating the kitchen.

“I’m good,” Spencer confirms, joining him in the kitchen for a front row seat of Luke cooking. Chatting menially together as the pancake stash slowly builds, Spencer gathers all the toppings at Luke’s direction before they move to sit at the table and start tucking in, both trying to ignore the rising tension at what they both know is coming.

“You’re being so nice to me now but all throughout the case you barely looked at me, I mean you couldn’t even share a room with me in the hotel,” Spencer says after a few moments of silent apprehension as they have their first bites. “Is it… is it because I’m gay?” His voice drops to a whisper, face contorting from confusion to apprehension, feeling a little nervous that Luke might get angry now he’s reminded him of it.

“What, no, Spencer, of course not,” Luke says defensively. “God, I’m not a homophobe. The exact opposite, actually. I’m gay, too.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” Luke puts his knife and fork down and runs a hand over his face as he psychs himself up. “That’s the problem. The truth is, I’m into you, Spencer, very much so. And I’m fully aware that you’re my best friend and you won’t feel the same way, so… that’s a problem. The others were starting to realise so I distanced myself, but it has nothing to do with you, it’s all me so please don’t blame yourself, alright?”

“Oh.” Spencer’s brain is short-circuiting.

“I’m sorry, I just needed to explain why I acted like that.” Luke apologises, sitting forward again. “I know this is probably making you uncomfortable, I can drop you back or call you a cab or something--”

“No,” Spencer says suddenly, snapping back into action as the information finally processes. Leaving right now is the last thing he wants. “No, I’m fine. Sorry, I’m just caught off guard. You… like me?”

“Well, yeah,” Luke smiles, a little awkwardly. “If you want to put it like that.”

“Oh.” He pauses for a moment as everything finally clicks into place. “We are both very stupid.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because the primary reason I was sad and drinking at a bar alone last night was because I am very much in love with you and feared you were pushing me away. That I’d lost my chance forever,” Spencer explains. “I don’t have much experience with relationships, so I didn’t know how to deal with it and when you started acting distant I did the same and… ran away, I guess.”

Luke’s glad that Spencer’s eyes are clear this morning and his eloquence is back or he’d fear he’s still somehow drunk out of his mind still and has no idea what he’s saying. “Oh.” It’s his turn to blank on a response.

“To be honest, Luke, I don’t know where to go from here,” Spencer laughs, a little awkwardly.

“Let’s start with this,” Luke says, getting up from his seat across the table and sliding into the chair next to Spencer, bridging the gap between the two before he kisses him gently. Spencer’s hand reaches forward to grip the front of his shirt, kissing back with just as much trusting desire as he feels Luke smile against his lips. They part at the kiss’ natural conclusion, pulling back to look at each other, tense awkwardness replaced with a new understanding of one another.

“Yeah,” Spencer smiles. “That feels like a good start.”

It’s a good start, but it’s by no means the end. The heaviness that had weighed between them for so long finally lifts and the lightness that replaces it means they both breathe easier, finishing their pancakes in between shy, cautious looks and shameless giggles. “Do you have anything you need to do today?” Luke asks as he washes their plates up, Spencer perched on the kitchen counter next to him.

“Nope,” Spencer says, smiling at the implication of such an answer.

“Well, what do you feel like doing?” he asks, wearing far too cheeky of a grin for Spencer to avoid leaning down and planting a kiss on his lips.

“Hm,” Spencer ponders, looking out the window at the rainy day. “I think movies and snacks would be perfect if I have you as company.”

“You smooth little thing,” Luke teases, poking Spencer’s side with a wet finger and delighting in the giggle that escaped his lips. “That sounds perfect to me.” He washes the frying pan last and quickly wipes down the kitchen before they head to the sofa, arms piled high with all the crisps, chocolate and cookies they can find in his cupboards. Spencer also digs about in the freezer and finds a pint of ice cream to share, which they feed each other bites of later in a sickeningly sweet, cliched moment of tenderness.

Luke chooses the first movie, picking out a Marvel film that Spencer ends up actually enjoying, though Luke can’t exactly say the same about Spencer’s choice, an obscure period piece from the 1960s. Still, he cuddles him close and pays attention to every minute. If it matters to Spencer, it matters to him.

And if wasting the day away with movies, snacks, and heart to hearts turns out to be exhausting enough that Spencer just has to stay the night again, this time sharing Luke’s bed with him and Roxy, then they’ll just have to make the absolute most out of such a terribly inconvenient situation. And they’ll deal with how to hide a 2 night love-fest from a team of profilers in the morning, because they’re far too oblivious to realise they already know.

Tags: @johanna-swann @pretty-b0yy

#criminal minds #criminal minds writing #criminal minds fic #ralvez #spencer reid #luke alvez #criminal minds angst #my writing

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kurtstinypurse · 4 years ago

Note

Klaine + 4 please please please

your wish is my command <3 here is coworkers!klaine at a vaguely nondescript office job bc who cares about those details when u can have kissing thanks

Blaine knows he shouldn’t be drinking so much - in fact, he had told himself not to drink at all.

He loses his inhibitions too much when he does, needs only a cocktail or a couple beers before he’s excitable and giddy and beyond firing on all cylinders, and he isn’t close enough with the people he’s here with to let loose like that.

But here he stands, leaned up against the back wall of the bar for a breather he desperately needs, nursing a third cocktail he somehow needs even more.

He needs both of these things because of Kurt.

Which is funny, really, and completely ridiculous, considering Blaine learned his name less than an hour ago - but of course, he’s been aware of Kurt for much longer.

Blaine’s job has always been boring, merely something to pay the bills in the interim while he searches for and takes whatever auditions he can, just until one of them sticks. He hadn’t expected to be working there long enough to now be at his third company Christmas party, but it’s not a bad job, just run-of-the-mill office work, and it’s reliable, and he’s relatively comfortable.

The company he works for is big enough to commandeer several floors within the high-rise office building, big enough that Blaine is a far cry from knowing everyone, particularly those in different departments, which is why he’s noticed Kurt but hasn’t had the chance to speak to him before.

He’s noticed Kurt in passing in front of their building, in the lobby, at the coffee shop around the block, in the elevator - he’s noticed Kurt for weeks, actually, each time making him feel more and more like a young little schoolboy with a silly crush, less and less like a working professional who could handle even approaching him.

Somehow, Blaine feels like Kurt is just someone who is impossible for anyone not to notice - from the high sweep of his soft-looking hair to his immaculate, unique outfits, never repeated, to his striking blue eyes and his air of confidence and his everything.

Blaine would be willing to bet that Kurt pulls focus wherever he goes, whether he wants to or not.

Actually, he’s pulling focus now, somehow the center and the life of the party just by being there. He’s standing tall, standing out, and everyone is greeting him, giving him attention, calling him over - it’s how Blaine finally picked up Kurt’s name, having overheard it countless times by now.

Blaine wants to give him attention, too, but he feels oddly paralyzed and drawn in like a magnet at the same time, like if he gives into it, there won’t be any turning back, and he’s not sure what that means, not sure he’s ready to find out.

So he stays against the wall, sipping his drink, watching and wanting and waiting - though waiting for what, he’s not sure.

On the edge of the dance floor, he notices his favorite coworker, Tina, jumping around and shimmying goofily, waving at Blaine to get his attention and making him laugh, though he doesn’t go over.

Still, he’s distracted enough by her that he doesn’t notice someone has approached him until a hand is on his arm, until the heat from a body so close is warming him, until a voice is low in his ear.

“What are you doing all alone over here?”

Blaine jolts, breath caught in his chest as he jerks his head over to see who it is, blinking slowly as his head rushes at the speed of his movement, and it takes him a moment before he realizes - it’s Kurt.

It’s Kurt.

Kurt’s hand is on his arm, right in the crook of his elbow, and Kurt is looking at Blaine intently like he’s something to see, and Kurt is biting his lip, now, as if he’s trying to hold back a smile.

“I’m Kurt.”

“I-I know,” Blaine blurts out, though he immediately blanches, face flooding with heat. “I mean- Hi. I’m Blaine.”

“I know,” Kurt grins playfully, leaving Blaine reeling and unsure if he means it. When Kurt leans back against the wall beside him, he’s close enough to knock their shoulders together as he settles, ending up with their arms pressed up against one another.

Blaine feels like he’s on fire at the contact, overheated and overstimulated and sweaty under his sweater, skin burning where they’re touching even through the thick fabric.

But he can’t pull away, couldn’t even if he wanted to.

It all feels suffocating, though - it’s more than he ever anticipated, closer than he ever thought he’d be, but it’s suddenly not enough, and he wants even more, wants Kurt even closer, feels driven by the fog and the fuzziness of his booze-addled mind to make it happen.

So he leans over, right by Kurt’s ear, and he says it.

“We should dance.”

It feels like a rush and a flood and the blink of an eye between Blaine suggesting that they dance and where they are now - Kurt holding Blaine by the hips, fingers digging in right above his waistband, Kurt’s body molded flush against Blaine’s from behind, Blaine’s hand reached up and back to hold Kurt’s neck, rocking together to the steady thrumming beat of the music.

In the back of his mind, he knows they shouldn’t be doing this. Regardless of the fact that they’re at a lively, crowded bar, this is a work party, and they’re coworkers, whether they work directly together or not.

Blaine is on the edge of drunk because of his three company-provided drink tickets, and he’s here because Tina forced him to be, and now he’s so close to Kurt that he nearly feels consumed by him, unable to focus on anything but Kurt’s hands on him and Kurt’s face tucked into his neck and god, even what feels like the swell of him against the curve of Blaine’s ass.

He wonders who’s still here, who might see them like this, if anyone’s looking - but in a twisted way, the idea of it makes it hotter, makes Blaine hotter, makes him crave Kurt’s closeness even more, even though he already has it, makes the heat spreading through his veins come to coil low in his belly, and he wants.

This isn’t like him.

As bad as Blaine has always been with romance, he’s always tried, at least, and his pull to Kurt has always been about wanting to know him, not just about getting Kurt’s hands on his body and Kurt’s mouth on his own.

He has no idea what this is for Kurt. He has no idea if Kurt’s ever noticed him before, or if Kurt wants romance, too, or a hookup and nothing more, but fuck, Blaine almost doesn’t even care.

Here and now, he feels driven by the alcohol and the vibrations in his chest from the thudding bass and the movement of his hips, but despite all of it, he still cares a little - he wants to know everything about Kurt, and he hopes Kurt wants to know him, too, and so he moves to turn in Kurt’s arms, hoping to ask if he wants to step outside, maybe to talk or at least so Blaine can have a chance to figure out how to breathe again.

He pulls his arm away from Kurt’s neck, and he turns close in his arms, nearly opening his mouth to speak and to ask him, but-

They’re close enough that Blaine’s lips brush against Kurt’s with the movement, the ghost of a kiss he hasn’t meant to give but still enough to make his knees threaten to buckle, to leave him positively aching for more, so close, so close, but he freezes, a breath hitching in his chest, the noise of the bar and the crush of sweaty bodies around them fading into nothingness.

He has no idea what to do - does he apologize, run, quit his job, leave the country?

Or does he commit, lean in for more, sweep Kurt off of his feet and take a risk and go for it, even though he doesn’t know what’s going to happen, even though-

Kurt’s mouth is warm and wet against his own, Kurt’s teeth are nipping at Blaine’s bottom lip, Kurt’s tongue is soothing the bites, then slipping into Blaine’s mouth, slick heat eliciting a broken whimper from the back of Blaine’s throat, setting him ablaze beyond belief, stopping him from thinking or worrying or considering or doing anything but desperately grasping at the back of Kurt’s sweater for purchase and pulling him closer, kissing him with the intensity of months of glances and looks and wonderings all pouring out at once.

And god, it’s more than Blaine ever could have expected, more than he’s ever known he could feel from a kiss, from another man, from anything at all.

And nothing else matters.

Not who can see them, not what Kurt thinks of him, not the booze in his blood, not his past, not his expectations, not what’s going to happen next.

Holding Kurt, kissing him, being held by him, getting to know him in this way-

This is all there is.

part 2 here!

#so #if there’s interest i’ll do a part 2 with another prompt I got #but full disclosure it would probably just be smut #anyway let me know thank u #klaine #kurt hummel #blaine anderson #glee #my fic #prompt game #klaine fanfic #klaine fanfiction

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icequeenoriginal · 5 years ago

Text

The Pain of Secrets

Author’s Note: This was supposed to be fluffy, that was my original intent. But then my brain decided to make it super angsty. So I apologize. Also, I am not transgender. I’m using the information I learned online as well as from what friends who are have told me. I hoped I portrayed a transgender person correctly. I meant to finish this before the end of pride month but writer’s block did not let that happen. Stay safe everyone.

Summary: Roman hates secrets and he hates keeping them, but he still has one. Is it worth keeping from Virgil?

Warning: Fear of Rejection, transphobia, self-hatred, internalized transphobia, keeping secrets, crying, running away, surgery mention, not taking care of yourself, anxiety, divorce mentioned, inappropriate touching, bad past relationship, hurt/comfort, roman angst, body image issues, bad binding practices, fear of breaking up (Let me know if I missed anything)

Pairing: Prinxiety

~ Roman hated secrets. Even the word would cause him to have an icky feeling in his chest. To have secrets, you have to lie to the people you care about. Secrets were the reason his parents weren’t together. His mother kept her emotions and suspension secret while his father kept his intimate relationship with a young coworker a secret.

At age 9, Roman swore to his grieving mother when he found her crying in the kitchen in the middle of the night when he could sleep. The smile on his mother’s face was enough to make him never want to break that promise.

That only lasted a couple of months and it was all his stupid body’s fault. If he had just been born in the right body, it wouldn’t be an issue.

You see, Roman wasn’t born a boy. Everyone told him he was a girl because he looked like one, but he didn’t feel like it. He knew he wasn’t but he didn’t know why.

He learned about the word transgender when his uncle took to a very fun and colorful parade that summer after he made his promise. It would later be the first of many Prides he attended and where his uncle met his other future uncle.

It took a few days for him to muster up the courage to tell his mother but his drive to never have a secret was the final push he needed.

His mom accepted him, she got him on HRT and even bought him his first binder. Though, he did notice how there seemed to now be a distance between them. They did fewer things together, his mother slipped up with pronouns, and always seemed like she was herself back from saying something.

But it was fine because at least there were no secrets between them.

“Everything is fine.” Roman would say as he ignored how much that hurt him.

“This is fine,” Roman said to himself as he only applied to colleges out of state. He and his mom just needed some time apart.

“Everything is great,” He told his mom through tears caused by the stress of school and being on his own.

“It’s okay,” said Roman when his first boyfriend told him he couldn’t be with a ‘fake man’ anymore after a couple of months of dating.

“It’s fine,” said Roman his second boyfriend angrily dumped him when he found out that Roman is trans. Roman didn’t blame him, he hadn’t told him right away as he did with his first boyfriend. This was his punishment for it.

It was really all fine. Roman didn’t mind being alone, he could handle it just fine. He was fine with always coming home to an empty apartment and an empty bed. A home without someone to hold him, kiss him, reassure him.

…

No, no he couldn’t. But he was a good actor and every good actor can lie to themselves.

He, at age 25, decided to put off dating until after he got his top and bottom surgery. It just seemed like the easiest option. His HRT did as much as it could but it couldn’t get rid of that feeling he had every time he looked into the mirror and touched his chest. It was one of the few things he had gotten straight from his mother.

After a late-night of research, he came up with a plan. To get both surgeries, he needs 20,000 dollars in total. Damn you America and your expensive medical costs! Well, there isn’t anything he can do other than every time he got paid, he saves all the extra money he had left after paying his bills and groceries. It wasn’t fun, there was time he wanted to buy that expensive tablet or go to that bar but he wouldn’t touch the money. Not until he had enough.

It was the perfect plan, in his opinion, but the universe was never on his side. He went to the library one day to borrow a book since that was a fun free thing to do, and he accidentally bumped into a young man. After a quick apology, Roman noticed the man was holding a large book of fairy tales. That led to a two-hour debate about the messages of fairy tales.

The man’s name is Virgil and Roman was sure at that moment he is his soulmate.

They spent more of their days texting one another whenever they could. Their first few dates would consist of free things like walking through the park or sitting together in the library. It was lovely. It’s why Roman figured he didn’t have to tell him that he was trans. It wasn’t like they were going to become more than friends. Roman figured this is how their relationship would stay, sweet and simple. That was perfectly fine with him.

Then Virgil invited to dinner to ask him to be his boyfriend. Virgil told him he had never asked anyone else out before but he felt such a strong connection with Roman. Everything about that moment was perfect, the restaurant, Virgil, the music, everything.

It wasn’t until he got home did Roman realize he still hadn’t told Virgil his secret. Roman cried himself to sleep that night.

After that first date, Virgil seemed to only take him to movies or dinners. Places that cost money, money Roman did not have living paycheck to paycheck. Virgil had a high paying office job so he said he didn’t mind. Roman still, at least once a month, would use his grocery money to buy fancy ingredients to make Virgil dinner and eat ramen for the rest of the week. It was nice, Roman had almost forgotten what it was like to go out.

Roman loves Virgil, he told him on their 5th date. He loved him so much that every day he would want to tell him his secret but the fear of losing Virgil would take over and make him chicken out.

That led him to today, almost a year later, sitting in Virgil’s apartment where he was staring at Virgil as his past flashed in front of his eyes like he was Angelica Schuyler during Satisfied.

Why? Because Virgil was inviting him to go to the beach. A place where you wear a swimsuit. Pushing aside how much he hated how he looked in a bathing suit, that meant he had to take off his shirt.

He was so screwed.

A cold hand jolted him out his thoughts so quickly that a small yelp escapes Roman’s lips. Roman scared eyes lock with Virgil’s loving and concerned eyes.

“Ro? What’s wrong? Do you not want to go?” Virgil asks softly, gently rubbing his knuckles

“No! I do! I do!” Roman replies quickly, a bit too quickly to alleviate Virgil’s concern.

“Ro, princey, you don’t have to agree just because I suggested it. We can do something else.”

Roman could have burst into tears at that moment. Virgil was just so good to him. He should take the way out, it would just make everything easier. He oh so wanted to but the nagging voice in the back of his head shouted at him that it was a trick, that Virgil was testing him, secretly questioning why Roman wouldn’t want to.

So, Roman shook his head, “I do want to Virgil, I-I just need to check when I can take off of work. You know how busy the restaurant business is during the summer.” Roman replies nervously.

Virgil sighs, “Alright, I believe you.” Virgil leans back against the couch, “You should quit that awful waiter job, they demand so many hours from you and barely pay you enough.”

Roman stares off into the distance before replying, “I wish I could quit too but I need the money and you know how hard it is to get a new job.” Especially if you’re trans.

Virgil nodded, knowing that he was very lucky to have the job that he did, all thanks to his friend Janus. Still, he hated how the light behind Roman’s eyes dim every day he is at that job and the physical strain it had on Roman’s gorgeous body. He wishes there was something he could do that wouldn’t seem like a handout. It would be too much of a blow to Roman’s pride.

Virgil smiles, he has a perfect idea. He turns to Roman and asks, “Roman, what would you think about--”

Roman whines in pain and Virgil’s eyes widen in fear. “Are you alright?!”

Roman nods and waves his hand dismissively. “Just chest--I mean stomach pains. I’ll be right back.” Roman runs off to the bathroom. As soon as he locks the door, Roman rips off his shirt and binder. He gasps, taking a deep breath of fresh air.

He knows he shouldn’t be wearing his binder all day, he knows it is not healthy but he can’t help himself. He rather be what (he thinks) Virgil wants than be comfortable.

Meanwhile, Virgil is frowning and whispers, “Hey Ro? Want to move in with me?”

Roman pants as he sits on the toilet. His chest was killing him but he could not care less. He took a painkiller from Virgil’s medicine cabinet. Swallowing it dry, he puts his binder and shirt back through the pain. He gets up and leans up against the wall to catch his breath.

“This is fine,” he mumbles to himself like he does every morning, “Everything is fine” ~

Two weeks had pasted and Roman still hadn’t given Virgil an answer. Virgil didn’t bring it up, he knew Roman would give him an answer when he was good and ready.

Roman was pacing, in a big shirt and boxers, with his phone in his hand, open on it was his bank account.

Once he got home from Virgil’s apartment, he quickly checked how much money he had saved. He was surprised to see that he had $8,654 saved up. It had been a while since he last checked. He quickly called around to get top surgery that fit into his budget.

He had a new plan. He would get the surgery, he would go to the beach with Virgil about 3 weeks later, and Virgil would see his surgery scars. Then Roman tell him and they could figure it all out there. If Virgil broke up,

No more avoiding it.

His phone began to vibrate and Roman vibrate and Roman quickly answers it, “Hello? Oh hi, Dr. Travis!”

This doctor had excellent reviews and she was to be trusted. One pleasant conversation later and Roman had an appointment set for a week later for $6,000 with insurance covering some of the cost. He also calls his job, who approves his two weeks of medical leave.

He squeals as soon as he hangs up, this was going to be wonderful. He had to celebrate.

So he calls Virgil, “Stormcloud?”

“Hey Ro, what’s up?” Roman smiles, “I have great news. Four weeks from Tuesday, I can spend the entire day at the beach with you.”

“Jeez, your job really won’t let you catch a break, can they?”

Roman chuckles, deciding it was best not to mention he was one of the last days off he had after the ones he is using for his appointments and recovery for this. “Well, in any case. I would like to see you before then. I’m working the early shift tomorrow so I’ll be done by 1.”

Roman could hear Virgil smiling on the other side of the line, “Well, you’re in luck Princey. I only have one big meeting after lunch tomorrow. How about we meet for lunch, I hide you in my office while I go to this meeting and then we can go back to my place at 5?” “That sounds perfectly wonderful.”

The lunch was nice. They went to a cheap sandwich shop that was close to Virgil’s work and had a small debate on whether or not putting mayo on Salami was a good or bad thing.

Roman almost immediately regretted agreeing to sit in Virgil’s office. He sat silently, and almost immediately, chest started to ache. Even worse, Virgil’s office needed a key to get into, one that Virgil only had because it was his ID card. Something about security or whatever.

Roman sat in Virgil’s office chair for 3 hours, he kept time on his phone. The second Virgil opened the door, Roman practically threw himself into Virgil’s arms.

“Missed me?”

“Something like that.”

They took the subway home, and Virgil could almost immediately tell something was wrong. Roman seemed to keep fidgeting and had on a fake smile. Virgil contemplated saying something, but by the time his anxiety let him decide, the train had arrived at their stop.

Virgil figured Roman would tell him in due time. Right?

Once they arrive, Virgil sighs as he pulls off his tie. “I am going to take a shower, you can set up a movie or something.” Roman smiles and kisses Virgil, “Don’t be long.” “Excuse me princess, but you take over two hours in the showers, I will take all the time I want.” Roman laughs, “Touché, touché. Go on now. Hurry your cute butt back.” Roman gently pats Virgil’s butt to emphasize his point. Virgil sent him a playful glare and heads off to his bedroom.

Roman smile drops and he immediately takes off his shirt and binder. He loudly gasps and rubs his chest to ease the pain in his chest. He sighs and stretches, Virgil usually takes 30 minutes in the shower, so he was going to give him a 30-minute break.

Or he was...until he turns and sees Virgil standing at the end of the living room where the hallway is attached. He, like Roman, did not have his shirt on. Neither his pants.

Virgil opens and closes his mouth a few times before saying, “I forgot to mention, I-I-I have a bottle of wine.” He gestures vaguely to the kitchen,

Roman covers his chest with his arms, tears appearing quickly.

Virgil takes a step closer, “Ro...have you been...this whole time…?”

“I have to go,” Roman says as he runs to the door, shirt and binder in hand.

“Ro, wait--” Virgil makes a grab for Roman’s arm but misses as Roman runs out of the apartment. Virgil watches him go, knowing he shouldn’t run out in his boxers. He begins pacing, his nerves are on an all-time high, and he tries to steady his breathing so he can come up with a plan to talk to Roman.

Because they really, really, need to talk.

~ Roman didn’t stop running until he got home. Once he got in, thank goodness his keys were safely tucked into his pocket, he threw himself onto his bed and broken down. That had to be the most humiliating moment of his entire life. Virgil’s face had said it all, he was definitely breaking up with him.

He sobs and sobs for what it seems like hours until he tires himself out. He walks up at 4 am to 10 miss calls and 30 texts from Virgil.

From: Stormcloud

Ro, please call me back.

Princey, let’s just talk, please.

Babe, please, let me know if you’re okay.

I’m not mad. I just want to talk.

Roman. I’m not going to say what I have to say through text. Call me, please.

Roman shuts off his phone. He can’t face Virgil right now. He can’t face anything right now. His only saving grace is that he has the night shift at work. He closes his eyes and had a restless sleep.

His dreams were of Virgil walking farther and farther away from him. No matter how much Roman pleaded and begged for him to stay, Virgil just kept walking.

Once he walks up, he remembers reading somewhere that dreams tell the truth, and he knows his truth: Virgil does not want to be with him.

Roman ignores Virgil’s calls and texts between the Bad Day, as Roman dubbed it, and his surgery day. Though it started because Roman couldn’t face him, it then became just because of the surgery.

Roman didn’t like his job, for the most part, but he did have a friend. His name is Patton and he is the nicest person Roman has ever known. Patton was one of the few people who knew Roman is trans and he is a bug supporter in Roman’s life. Patton let him cover all of his shifts so Roman wouldn’t lose money on his time off. He was exhausted from all the work, but the happiness of what is to come pushed him through it. He stopped checking his phone as often as he normally would, despite Patton pushing him to go talk to Virgil.

”It may bit be as bad as you think kiddo,” Patton would say, but Roman was not sure.

Anytime he wasn’t working, he was making trips to the grocery store for his treatment or moving everything off of high shelves since he is not allowed to stretch his arms.

His bottom drawers are filled with baby wipes, scar cream, and ice packs. He also bought big comfy sweaters and ice cream to keep himself comfy.

Roman couldn’t sleep the day before the surgery. He felt every emotion attacking him at once. This was going to be one of the most important days of his life.

The surgery itself wasn’t as bad as he expected, though the anesthesia probably had something to do with it. He found out later he sang a love song to “a very lucky young man” through the 2 hours and 30 minutes. He was embarrassed, to say the least.

Finally came time to see the scars. He froze when the doctor told him. He was lucky to be facing away to the doctor. Could he do this? Would the scars look bad? Would this actually make him as happy as he hoping?

He let out a watery chuckle, he sounded like his boyfriend--his ex-boyfriend. Thinking of Virgil reminded him of all the breathing exercises he learned from Virgil.

He takes a deep breath for four seconds, holds it for seven seconds, and lets it out for eight seconds.

After doing it a few more times, he turns to the mirror. The tears are almost immediate. The scars were bright red but they were thin, as thin as his pointer finger. His chest was as flat as he hoped it would be. This is the happiest he has ever been.

He shakes Dr. Travis’s hand since he is unable to say words. Dr. Travis simply smiles at him and pats his back.

“Now sit down, I have to put the bandages on. Now, make sure to change them every day.” Dr. Travis says.

”Got it, thank you, doctor.” Roman says, managing to get his voice back.

”You’re welcome.” Dr. Travis replies as she gently wraps the bandages around his chest, ”Now, do you have someone coming to pick you up?”

”Yes, of course, as you told me to,” He wasn’t exactly lying, he was planning to call an Uber.

”Good, because all you have to worry about is recovering, okay?” she says with a smile.

Roman nods and soon after, Dr. Travis finishes putting on the bandages. He has to stay in the hospital for another hour to rest before he is properly discharged. He spends most of the hour taking a nap and only 15 minutes on the phone with Patton, which seems strange to him. Roman, once he is allowed to leave, puts on his red zip-up hoodie, ignoring the feeling of his heart pulling because he remembers Virgil buying it for him and heads out of the hospital. Dr. Travis gives him a treatment plan on the way out and Roman puts it into his pocket.

The Uber ride is pleasant enough, the driver lets him drift off in the backseat. He is woken up by the car jerking to a stop in front of his apartment building. He scrambles out of the car while apologizing to the driver.

He runs up the stairs to his apartment, each step making him more tired and as each second passes, the painkiller wears off more and more.

He weakly smiles as his door, knowing that a few behind it is his bed that he can pass out in.

He opens the door and is so shocked to see Virgil behind it that he can’t bring himself to move. Virgil says nothing as he walks over to him. Virgil wraps his arms around Roman’s waist and moves him into the apartment.

Roman yelps and finds his legs walking up to move with Virgil, ”W-W-What are you doing here?”

Virgil whispers, ”We’ll talk later, you need to get to bed.”

Roman doesn’t argue as Virgil half drags him into his bedroom. Roman lays down and Virgil reaches for his hoodie zipper. Roman tries to push his hand away but Virgil is much faster than him. Roman let's out a small whine as Virgil unzips the hoodie. Virgil shushes him and gives him a painkiller and some water. Roman happily drinks it.

As he is falling asleep, Roman says, ”I love you V…”

”I know, I love you too Ro.” is the last thing Roman hears before passing out.

Roman wakes up two hours later so feeling something cold touch his chest. He slowly opens his eyes to see Virgil putting an ice pack wrapped in a paper towel on his chest.

Virgil softly smiles at him, “Hey Sleeping Beauty, welcome back to the land of the living.” Virgil gently cups his face. “Stay still so that the ice can do its job. I’ll order food in a bit and put on a movie. What would you like to watch?”

Roman stares at him dumbfounded, but Virgil was not fazed. He fluffs Roman’s pillow without uttering a word. He then rubs Roman’s cheek and Roman shutters at the soft and intimate touch.

“What? How? Why…?” Roman had so many questions he wants to ask.

“When you weren’t answering your phone, I went to your job and I saw you working. That relaxed me enough to let you have some space. I still would walk by every day, hoping you’d see me, and maybe you would come. When I came by earlier today, your coworker came out and invited me in.” “Patton?” “Patton. He said he noticed me walking by and I told him about you. He spent his break talking to me about you. You have a good friend.” Virgil says with a smile.

“I know, Pat’s great.” Roman can’t help but smile back. “I’m guessing he told you about the surgery?” “Yup so I came here. Knowing you, you wouldn’t ask for help and try to take care of yourself.” Roman looks away and pouts, and Virgil kisses the pout away. The kiss makes Roman stare at him confused, but Virgil just continues, “So I asked your building’s maintenance guy to let me in to surprise you. I did not think that work, you should have seen me, I was so nervous, but he said he’s seen you let me in enough times and he said this was one time only so now I am here.”

Roman blinks at Virgil for a few seconds, trying to figure out what he says. Virgil sits there, so patient and understanding that it only manages to confuse “But why?”

“Why what?”

Roman began to cry, but he is too tired to care. “Why would you want to take care of me? I’ve been keeping a huge secret from you for over a year, I’ve been lying to you over a year. I haven’t been as intimate as I deserve to be and you probably desire to because I can’t be. I will never be a true man physically, no matter what I do. And the way you found out, not from me telling you. You should hate me, be mad, anything. I wouldn't hold it against you.”

Virgil sits on the bed and puts his arm around Roman, “Roman, I don’t know who told you otherwise, but when I tell someone I love them, I love all of them. Especially you, you are my boyfriend. You are everything I want and more. I love your body, I’ve loved it since we met. I wouldn’t care if we never had sex, if it met I could be with you. And don’t call yourself anything but a man, because I will fight you about it and have Patton help me.”

Roman laughs but stops, his insecurities taking over once more, “But the way you were looking at me that day…you looked so disgusted”

“I wasn’t, I will never disgusted with you. I was scared. I saw the binder and how red your chest was. I was scared that you were hurting yourself for me.” “Oh...I’m sorry.” Roam replies while lower his head. Virgil tilts it up, “Don’t apologize to me, you owe an apology to your body. I’ll make you do it too.” Roman pulls Virgil into a kiss and Virgil happily kisses back. They will be okay, actually better than okay. Virgil will take of Roman his whole recovery, taking his vacation time to do so. They would spend the time talking, finally no secrets between them. Virgil will ask him to move in as he drives him home from his checkup with Dr. Travis and Roman will happily say yes. Roman will finally let Virgil help me and Roman saves up the money for his bottom surgery and gets a better job with Virgil’s recommendation. Though he will miss working with Patton, they will hang out every weekend to make up for it. It will be a wonderful future.

But right now, they both just need to kiss and breathe because they are happy and together.

Taglist

I do not have a general Sanders Sides but if you would like to be tagged in all things Sanders Sides I post, let me know.

#thomas sanders #sanders sides #prinxiety #roman x virgil #roman angst #roman sanders #patton sanders #Janus Sanders #trans!roman #sanders sides oneshot #tw transphobia #hurt/comfort

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retrievablememories · 5 years ago

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no manners | lucas

title: no manners pairing: lucas x black!reader genre: angst, implied smut request: “Aww thanks✨😊 Hope it’s not too much(I have a wild/creative imagination😌) Could you write a fic where Lucas is married to an African American who lives in America while he’s in China with WayV. One night after a call where Lucas suggests she go out with friends because she’s too lonely, she drinks too much and ends up going home with a stranger. When she wakes up she finds out what she did and a few days later she finds out she’s pregnant 💁🏿‍♀️that being said ain’t do it if it’s weird” word count: 5k warnings: workplace sexism/harassment, infidelity, alcohol use, mentions of intoxicated sex, mentions of pregnancy, emetophobia warning, mentions of blood, medical setting, angst!! just sad shit man a/n: hard to think of a good title, idk. the song’s about a sad relationship so close enough? ion fuck with drake anymore but passionfruit was the soundtrack for this one lol

You wake up in the middle of the night again—you’ve been doing it a lot lately. Your head aches a bit and your throat feels dry. You reach for the bottle of water on your nightstand and drink from it, though it doesn’t make you feel any better.

Pulling the covers back over yourself, you turn towards the empty side of the bed and feel that familiar pain settle in your body again. There are painkillers for physical discomforts, but what do you do for this kind of ache that comes from deep within the heart? You sigh and simply close your eyes, trying to block out the feeling.

It’s been over 3 months since you’ve seen Lucas in person, which might as well be the equivalent of several lifetimes for you. You knew this was going to be inevitable once you got married, and even while you were still in the dating stage you experienced it. But you’re not sure if you could’ve accounted for just how intense it would feel now. It’s different now. You’ve made a home together—are going to have a family someday—and yet you barely get to spend any time together.

Burrowing deeper under the covers, you curl yourself up as small as possible, as if you can squeeze out the pain by leaving no more room for it.

Even work is bland now. You work at a firm for a fairly popular magazine in your city, and although your duties keep you busy most days, even those things are starting to lose their appeal. Your peers certainly don’t help.

“You look like you’ve been going through it,” Your coworker Daniel says over lunch. Your other coworker, Patrice, elbows them in the side for his indiscretion.

Your jaw clenches. You have to make an effort to relax your body and gather your thoughts before responding. The last thing you need right now is to lose your job, although you already know Lucas could support the both of you if necessary. “I’m fine. Just a little sleep deficit, but I’ll live.”

“Don’t mind him,” Sharia says, rolling her eyes. “We all get a little worn out sometimes. I hope things get better for you soon.”

“I’m just pointing out the obvious,” Daniel interjects, holding his hands up in surrender. “Don’t shoot the messenger. Sharia’s right, though; we all know how you’re feeling.” No, you don’t, you think, resisting the desire to scoff in his face. “Work’s been pretty hectic the past few weeks.”

“Yep, real busy,” you say curtly, not wanting to draw this conversation out further. It’s clear that he thinks he’s making some kind of connection with you, despite him knowing jackshit about anything that’s going on in your life. His presumptuousness has always rubbed you wrong.

“Absolutely. Hopefully the big boss will ease up on us soon here.” You think Daniel is done, but then he speaks again, and Patrice puts her head in her hands. “Anyway, how’s everyone’s home life faring from all this? You and the husband doing all alright?” You know that last statement is specifically for you, and it makes you even more weary.

Sharia shifts uncomfortably as if she can feel the tension you’re experiencing. She’s the only one on your job who knows who you’re married to, as you didn’t want to let your other nosy colleagues in on your life. She’s the only one you can trust to keep your business on your front porch where it belongs.

“We’re doing fine,” you say, keeping your voice light. “How are you and your girlfriend?”

“Actually—are you sure you and dear husband aren’t having any problems? You know...of the bedroom variety? Maybe that’s part of why you’ve been so stressed lately.”

“Jesus, Daniel!” Patrice exclaims in disbelief.

“You’re way out of line.” Sharia gives Daniel a warning look. “We’re at work, this isn’t gossip hour. I don’t think you need another HR report under your belt.”

You continue to sit with your hands clasped together, digging your nails into the back of your hand and watching the wall clock count down the minutes until the lunch break ends. Still 10 minutes left. If this were any other setting, any other person, you would’ve cursed Daniel out and likely given him a good backhanding, but he knows you can’t do anything here. And that’s precisely why he does it.

“What goes on in our lives is none of your business,” you say slowly, trying to keep your voice even. “I don’t know where you pull this crap from. You should listen to Sharia.”

“I hope that’s not a threat, because we all know the boss doesn’t care,” Daniel scoffs. “I’m not going anywhere, so you girls might as well get used to it.” Thankfully, he decides to take his leave at this point, collecting the rest of his lunch and stalking back to his office.

Patrice and Sharia exchange looks, and you merely sit and continue staring at the clock, watching the hands count to the next hour. It’s all you can do.

You’re relieved when you step through the front door of your house that night. Or maybe relief isn’t the word for it—but there is definitely a sort of deflation that happens once you pass through the threshold. You feel sapped and tired, and you can only think of scraping together whatever leftovers you can find because you’re too tired to cook a new meal.

As you walk into the bedroom, you remember that you and Lucas are supposed to video chat tonight, and that makes you feel a little better, but not as good as it could. You glance at the empty side of the bed and sigh heavily.

The rest of the evening passes by simultaneously too slow and too fast. It’s almost like the weight of your depression is dragging down the rest of the world and making time flow in a strange, nonsensical fashion. You eat your leftovers, watch bad reality TV, and even try to check a few work emails before your mind drifts off again. You keep replaying the events at lunch and getting upset again, though you don’t want to.

By the time the hour for your video call comes along, you’re curled up on the bed holding your phone tightly, waiting for it to ring and your husband’s name to flash across the screen. You answer almost instantly when it finally does.

“Yukhei,” you breathe out once his face appears on screen. The sight of him is enough to make your eyes sting immediately, and your throat is choked off with tears.

“Y/N!” Even through the phone speakers, his voice is loud enough to fill your room, and your sudden laughter at his excitement is enough to make the tears building in your eyes finally fall down. Lucas leans closer to the screen, his features drawing into a concerned expression. “Oh, shit—Y/N, what’s wrong?!”

You’ve stopped laughing now but the tears keep flowing, and you wipe your eyes futilely. For a while, all you can do is shake your head and keep crying as Lucas coos to you on the other end of the phone, growing increasingly concerned about your emotional state.

You put the phone down to wipe your face, and only then are you able to calm down enough to speak. “I just hate everything.”

Lucas frowns. “What do you hate, baby?”

“This fucking job, I hate Daniel, I hate being talked to like I’m an idiot, I hate…I hate you not being here.” You pick up the phone again. Your head hurts from crying, and you put your forehead in your hand as you look at Lucas on the other line.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I wish I could be there with you. You know I’d kick his ass for you...and anyone else who makes my baby cry.” He sighs and chuckles, though there’s no real humor to it. “Maybe I should kick my own ass too, then. I’m always away from you, and I know that doesn’t help. There are moments everyday when I wish I was there beside you, but…”

“It’s not like you can help it,” you say, and you feel powerless to do anything about it. “You shouldn’t...feel bad about it.” If only you could take your own advice.

“It’s impossible not to.” Lucas’s fingers drift to his wedding ring, twisting it around his finger like he does whenever he’s distressed. It’s become a subconscious thing for him at this point, but you always notice, and it comforts you to know your relationship can be a solace for him. “I have the other guys here, and it helps, but...who do you talk to when you’re feeling alone, besides me?”

“Ugh…” You lean back against the headboard. “No one, really...I don’t want to bother Sharia with my issues. Or my other friends. I feel like everyone already has their own stuff to deal with…”

Lucas leans forward again, as if he’s talking to you face-to-face. “My dear wife, I won’t pretend to be your therapist, but I think I have a prescription for you.”

You laugh and shake your head. “And what would that be?”

“You should go out. Take a few days off from work, leave the house, do whatever. But I really think you need to be around other people.”

“Go out?”

“Yes, with your friends! You’re cool with some people from work—Sharia, at least. Or your college friends, if not your coworkers. Anyone. I don’t want you to be spending all your time alone.” A melancholy note enters his voice. “And since I can’t be with you now, I want you to at least get out without me.”

“I don’t know...”

“What’s wrong?”

“The problem is that I miss you. Going someplace where you aren’t isn’t gonna help.”

“You’re so stubborn,” Lucas says, but his voice is warm with affection. “Just do it for me, please? You don’t think it hurts me to see my lovely wife so upset? I only want you to be happy.”

Your heart warms at that, and you look up at the ceiling, not wanting to start another wave of tears. “Well, okay...you’re right. I’ll try it this weekend. But I’m still gonna be thinking of you the whole time.”

Lucas smiles. He brings his ring finger close to the camera and kisses the band of metal. “For life, right?”

You mirror his actions. “Always.”

The next day, you catch up with Sharia at the copy machine.

“Hey girl, how are you doing?” she asks, feeding more paper into the machine. “Not too bad after what that fool said yesterday, I hope.”

The mention of that leaves a bad taste in your mouth, but you shake your head and pretend to brush it off. “I’m fine, no one’s thinking about that sleaze. I was wondering if you were up for hanging out this Friday? It’s kinda short notice, but me and some friends are planning to go to a club…”

Her eyes light up at that. “Oh? Which club are y’all going to?”

“The one on the same street as that new five-star restaurant that just opened up. Apparently it’s a bit exclusive, but one of my friends claims to have direct connections, so we’re gonna try it out.”

“Oh, to be rich and glamorous.” Sharia laughs. “Sure, I’ll go. I’m always up for some fun. Anything that’s not this damn job.”

“Great! You know where I live, just swing by around 8?”

“Sounds like a plan to me.” Sharia looks like she wants to say something else, but Daniel strolls into the room and she rolls her eyes, quickly turning back to the copy machine.

“Hey ladies, what’s going on?” Daniel leans against the wall as if he plans to pull a long conversation out of you, but you shake your head and walk out.

“Bye, Daniel.”

Sharia follows suit, grabbing her documents out of the machine and not even checking if they’re correct before following you out. “Yeah, not gonna happen.”

The Friday night that you head to the club is unexpectedly hot. It rained hard earlier that day and the air is still thick with humidity, which makes you grateful you’re gonna be spending most of your time indoors. Your friend’s connections come in to save the day, just as she promised, and your group of five is soon standing in the club without having to wait in a hot line all night.

Your friend leads everyone over to the VIP section and you all sit down, marveling at the club’s sleek interior. Everything is all glitter and glass and steel, giving the building an almost futuristic look.

“We need some drinks, there’s no way I’m spending all night in a club like this sober,” one of the girls suggests. The others agree and spend a few minutes playfully arguing over which drinks would be best to get before standing up.

Your friend notices you’re still sitting down. “Are you two coming with, or do you want us to order for you?”

“Just order something for me, doesn’t matter what it is,” you say, waving your hand. Sharia agrees. She waits until the others leave, then turns to you with a serious look.

“You should quit.” You stare at her, wondering if maybe you’ve misheard over the loud music.

“Quit? My job? Do you hate having me around that much?” you joke, though you feel confused and a little hurt.

“Now you know—what I’m saying is, we both know who your man is. I think you would be fine if you just quit and started looking for another job or even stopped working for a while. There’s no reason why you should have to stay there and keep putting up with Daniel’s shit.”

You don’t hate the idea. It’s one you’ve thought of numerous times before, but you’re not confident about taking the first step towards it. “I don’t think it’s that simple...having a job keeps me busy. I’d probably die of boredom if I didn’t have work. And anyway, I’m not really ready to be a housewife...especially considering that my husband isn’t even there half the time.” Your mood drops a little when you think of this. Sharia notices and tries to pull you back before you lose steam before the night even starts.

“Hey hey, it’s just a suggestion! You don’t have to do anything except whichever choice will be easiest for you. I’m just trying to look out for you girl, God knows no one wants to be harassed on the job everyday.”

“I hear you. But I don’t want to think about this anymore,” you groan.

When the other girls come back, you take your drink and immediately down half of it in one go. You need something to distract you from the bad mood attempting to creep up on you.

“Well damn, okay! Someone’s eager!” you friend shouts, and everyone else laughs.

The rest of the night goes similarly, quickly spiraling out of your hands before you can really realize it. The alcohol makes you unable to think about any one thing for too long, which is what you want—maybe even need. You lose track of how many drinks you have and how many songs you dance to. All you can feel is the burning in your throat and the blissful emptiness of not having to think, worry, or stress. For once.

At some point, someone’s hands are on your body and you think maybe it’s one of your friends, but none of them would touch you like this—or kiss you like this. It’s not Lucas either, it can’t be because he’s still in China isn’t he? but you want it to be Lucas, it should be Lucas, so you return the kiss anyway, and there’s more touching and feeling—

until you end up in someone’s car, a taxi maybe, it’s not the car you came in but that doesn’t matter either, just the hands and the sensation of it all, of being touched by a person other than yourself when you haven’t felt it in a long time—

and maybe if you close your eyes for long enough it will be him.

The first thing you notice is the splitting sensation in your head. You don’t remember how you got into your bed or how much you had last night, but you haven’t experienced a hangover like this since your college years, so it must’ve been a lot. You groan and bring your hands to your head, also noticing that your bonnet is nowhere to be found. You must’ve been really wasted last night.

You reach for the water on your nightstand, but it’s not there. In fact, nothing’s there. Your hand meets air, and you suddenly feel slightly alarmed—where’s your nightstand? You finally crack one eye open only to see a room entirely different from the one in your home.

You jolt up, which only makes your head throb harder, but you can’t be bothered with that right now when you’re in a strange place. Pure panic explodes in your chest as you look to the side and see a strange man sleeping next to you in bed—his bed. You can only see his top half, but you can assume he’s naked underneath, as you are equally nude.

“Fuck, no,” you blurt out. You throw the covers back and move as fast as you can to collect your strewn clothes, not really caring if you wake the man up at this point. You just know you’ve got to get the hell out.

You pull your clothes on and dial for an Uber on your phone, sprinting out of the bedroom just as the man starts rustling in the bedsheets. You realize his place is some sort of luxury apartment, which means he’s probably one of the many famous or semi-famous men who frequents that club. That idea makes you panic more as you unlock the door and run out of it; you don’t have the patience to wait on the elevator, so you take the stairs two at a time.

You’re full-on shaking by the time you get to the bottom and end up outside on the sidewalk. Some people passing by give you sideways glances at your presumed Walk of Shame, with you still wearing your club outfit, but there’s no room to think about their judgment. You’re too busy being eaten alive by your conscience.

The ride home is mostly silent. Your driver tries to strike up a conversation at first, but they realize you’re in no state to talk and leave you to your thoughts. With your hangover, the sun’s brightness feels like nails stabbing into your skull, but the pain gripping your heart still manages to be worse.

Your wedding ring feels especially heavy on your finger, like solid lead weighing you down. You badly want to take it off, but you also don’t want to remove one of the few things tying you to Lucas right now. The conflict tears you apart. You almost feel like your ring has become a sentient thing, burning your skin and pinching your finger with the threat of cutting it clean off.

You scrub yourself for what seems like an hour after you get home. When you finally get out of the shower, you end up in the armchair in your room, sitting in your towel and simply staring at the bed. Lucas’s side of the bed. The side of the bed where a picture of you two sits framed on the nightstand, one you took on the day of your wedding shoot. It seems to mock you now, saying, Look at what a good thing you had. Look at what you’ve destroyed.

The ring burns again.

Monday feels surreal in a sickly way.

You don’t call or text anyone over the weekend—not even your friends who are worried and demanding answers for what happened at the club. You feel like maybe you shouldn’t be, but you’re angry at their demands; why didn’t anyone stop you if they were so concerned? Weren’t they all there, too? Either way, it’s too late to think about “what ifs.” What’s done is done. You don’t want to talk or think about it anymore. But that’s impossible.

Stepping into work doesn’t feel real. No one knows anything except Sharia. All your colleagues still greet you like you’re the same person, the same hardworking employee and loving wife they all know. It’s better that they don’t know, but in some irrational way, this also makes you angry. Don’t look at me like that. Don’t treat me like I’m the same person. My life is ruined; nothing can ever be the same.

Nevertheless, you interact with them all like it’s any other Monday and play along with their tired banter even when you want to scream to the world that none of this matters. You do a decent job of avoiding Sharia during the first half of the day, occupying your time with assignments and then creating busywork when you finish those.

Until lunch. Then there’s nowhere left to run.

You go to your car with the excuse of picking up your food today—even though you don’t intend to do anything but sit in the parking lot—and no one questions it but her. She follows you outside. You don’t even have the energy to tell her no. You’re at least glad that she doesn’t speak until both of you are safely in the car and away from other ears.

“Are you okay?”

“I don’t know if that matters,” you say blankly.

“Well, it does. You might have made a terrible mistake, but you’re still human.”

“There’s no way to be okay after this. Sharia, what the fuck am I gonna tell him?”

“There’s nothing you can tell him but the truth. He deserves to know that much, at least.”

“I can’t do it.”

“Y/N, it’s better to get this over with sooner than later. It’s only going to hurt worse if you wait. What would you do anyway, just ignore his calls?”

You grip the steering wheel. “...Maybe. If I have to. I don’t know.”

Sharia sighs. “I can’t tell you what to do with your life. But he will need to know at some point.”

“He’ll hate me,” you blurt out, a tear already rolling down your cheek. You try to stop them from coming, but this is the first time you’ve allowed yourself to cry since it happened. You’ve surprised even yourself with how long you avoided this part. The dam has no choice but to break, sending you into a cascade of tears as you rest your head on the steering wheel.

Sharia’s arms are warm around you, but her embrace does nothing to make you feel better. You feel as if you don’t deserve this kind of reprieve from her. And certainly not from Lucas.

A couple weeks later, you sit in your OBGYN’s waiting room, your body stiff with fear and anxiety.

You haven’t talked to Lucas in the entire time since you went to the club that Friday night. You know there is no way he’d go that long without talking to you, though—which is why you blocked him on every avenue you could think of. To be safe, you also blocked all of this group members, making sure there would be no way for him to get into contact with you.

You feel like you’ve lost your mind with the lengths you’ve gone to—what if he thinks you’re kidnapped or dead?—but you’re more afraid of facing him. The thought of looking in his eyes while your transgression swims in the back of your mind makes your stomach pitch to the floor.

And you would like to think that’s the only thing making you sick these days. But you can’t ignore the odd pains and nausea and sudden spotting even if you wanted to. It’s what has landed you in this doctor’s office today, with your hands tucked between your knees and your head spinning as you try to ignore the bitter taste of bile rising in your throat.

Eventually, you can no longer push it back, and you go to the bathroom to empty your stomach—even though there’s not much there to begin with.

When you leave the restroom, a nurse is standing outside in the lobby, her expectant eyes landing on you.

“Mrs. Wong?”

“That’s me,” you say weakly.

“Hi! Come on back so we can get your vitals. I hope you’re doing okay today…” You follow her into the back rooms to get poked and prodded, your blood pressure and temperature taken and your height and weight jotted down on a chart. You don’t pay much attention to what she’s saying. Every word sounds like it’s being filtered through a foggy telephone.

You return to reality when she hands you the transparent cup and the pregnancy test to take, and things become even more painfully clear when another nurse comes in to take your blood. You know the blood test results will take longer to come back, but you requested it anyway. You have to be sure.

Despite the nurses’ cheerful demeanor, you feel cold and isolated when you use the test in the small restroom. The feeling only worsens when the doctor confirms the reading and happily shakes your hand, unaware of or unwilling to acknowledge your dread.

It’s positive.

That weekend, you finally unblock Lucas. Your mind is in a tangle while you do it, but you can’t avoid him any longer.

You don’t know if he’ll even answer your call. You wouldn’t blame him if he didn’t. Maybe he’s busy with practice or even asleep. But what makes you feel worse is that you know he’d never ignore you if he wasn’t otherwise occupied.

His name only stays on your phone for a few seconds before he’s immediately picking up the video call, his face suddenly appearing in full color before you. He seems panicked, almost dropping the phone in his haste to answer it. When he rights the screen again and sets it on a steady surface, his expression is difficult to decipher. Then it turns into pure discontent.

“Do you have an explanation for this?” You’ve never seen Lucas this irritated before, and it makes you tremble. It can only get worse from here. “I called and texted and nothing got through. I look on your social media and I’m blocked on every platform. What is this, Y/N?”

You can only shake your head. The words are stuck in your throat. You chew the inside of your cheek, unsure how to respond.

“This isn’t a joke, Y/N. What’s going on?”

Your grip on the phone tightens as your stomach ties itself into a knot. You feel sick again, but you can’t throw up now. “Yukhei, I went t-to the doctor, I-I’m pregnant.”

Lucas pauses, and various emotions flit across his face in the span of a few seconds. His eyebrows draw together in something akin to confusion and hurt. “You’re...pregnant? Why the hell did you need to block me for that? Please don’t tell me this about my career again. Baby, listen to me—”

“Yukhei, I’m only 4 weeks.”

Lucas’s words drop off completely. His body stills, and for a moment you wonder if the video has paused. Your palms sweat and your skin prickles. He sits back in his chair and looks off to the side as if he’s trying to gather words. Finally, he says,

“What are you telling me? Because this isn’t what I’m hearing, is it? This is some kind of prank, right?” His voice gets louder and more frantic towards the end, though he struggles to keep from outright yelling at you. “If you want to play games, this isn’t funny.”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, baby, I’m sorry. There’s nothing I can say—there’s no excuse for it, but I was drunk, I-I was lonely, I just don’t know—” You form a fist with your left hand, digging your nails into your palm, and the warm metal of your ring against your skin threatens to burn you again.

Lucas lowers his head and pushes his hands through his hair. He keeps his head down like this for a while as you stumble and try to explain yourself, your words devolving into barely decipherable sobs.

“Shut up. Just shut up!” His words are muffled from him covering his face. He’s never talked to you like that before, which makes you want to cry more, but you don’t say another word. “I just don’t want to hear it. I’ve sat here everyday and thought of you, counting down days until I could come back to the U.S. to see you, and this is what you give me.”

You merely sit and listen with your heart trying to burst in your chest. His words feel like knives being thrown at you; the pain is practically physical.

When he finally takes his hands away from his face and looks up, his eyes are wet and red with tears. “This is impossible. I need time to think about this.”

“I-impossible? Wait, Yukhei—”

He hangs up the call before you can finish speaking, though you aren’t sure what more you could’ve said to him anyway.

With nothing but your screen staring back at you, a sense of unease seeps into your body and makes your limbs stiff. You want to reach out for him, want to make him see that you never intended to hurt him this way. You don’t want to lose everything you’ve built this soon. And yet, you can already see it all slipping through your hands.

You are more alone than ever.

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