#overthinking jen is overthinking

[beautifulhigh]

Another day, another thought, I guess this is my life now.

So last night I was reading this article in which Matthew talks about making the film and the staging of the Paris sex scene. And it struck me how much work and attention to detail was given to this moment:

Which yes, others have talked about what is placed around the room but I'd like to present exhibits B and C:

The other times we see them in bed together, Alex is on Henry's right. Protocol or his good side? (Both?) Because that's your place when you're with a Royal.

But in Paris they're the other way around. Henry is on Alex's right. That's his place. That's where he belongs. In this moment he's not Prince Henry, he's Henry Fox. He's just this guy who is in love with this other guy.

At the DNC hotel they're mired in politics. In Kensington Palace they're in the monarchy. But in Paris? They're just them. Not so much Firstprince as... some other pormanteau. Helex? Alry? Anyway. They're them in Paris and it's as close to neutral ground as they can get and I find it interesting that Henry is on Alex's right when every other instance in his life he has people on his right. He never gets to be the person on the right. He never gets to defer to someone who isn't in some line of succession.

But with Alex? He does. He defers to him (and no this is not a comment about sexual positions) and he isn't pushed into the circumstance and rules of a situation he was born into without any choice or say in the matter. He can just be himself without the need to maintain an image or a sense of duty or adhere to some archiac institution. He's on someone's right.

(He's also put Alex on his non-good side. He's showing that part of himself to this man because he loves and he trusts him and he knows he is safe to do so. That's something else I'm feral over.)

And given how much attention was paid to the staging of Paris you will not be able to convince me that this wasn't deliberate. Matthew López himself could come into my Tumblr inbox and deny it and I wouldn't believe him.

[beautifulhigh]

So I’m home and at my laptop and I can FINALLY scream about this properly. Because so much this. Because it’s been the “whole bloody time”. And he knew, he was aware that if Alex loved him back “it would set [him] on fire”.

If Alex loved him back, then Henry would have a choice to make and it was one that would mean he would lose what little he was able to have with Alex. The texts and the calls and the slightly-flirty nature of all of that. Now with added kissing and blow jobs. This is playing with that fire but Henry can adjust to that. They can catch up, hook up, and carry on with their lives in the meantime.

But if Alex loved him back? Then it would mean that in another world, another lifetime, there would be the possibility and the chance of something more. Something amazing and real and forever. The kind of thing that Henry has known he would never be able to have from the day he realised his sexuality. And that would be the worst thing in the world - to know that if he weren’t him and maybe if Alex weren’t Alex then he could have it. If they weren’t the Prince and the First Son they could be two boys in love.

But they are those people and while Alex may have a little bit more freedom and flexibility to be who he is - his mother’s campaign aside - he won’t be able to have it. He’s been told over and over and over about the importance of the traditional royal image. He has a duty to his country and he doesn’t think he has a say in that.

So if Alex doesn’t love him back then he can enjoy their friendship and the benefits they have added, right up until the point where Alex drifts off in search of something real. Something he can have forever. Someone who isn’t closed off and shuts down and deals with anxiety and depression. Because if Alex loved him back? Well then he would want forever and he would want to deal with that.

But that can’t happen and that won’t happen - because who could put up with him? - and so he needs to set that boundary right now. And instead he ends up blurting out something close to the truth.

I can’t afford to have you fall in love with me.

Henry can’t afford it. He can’t risk Alex going somewhere he can’t follow. He can’t risk losing what little he is able to have. Henry loves Alex and so wants as much as he can have. Here’s the line in the sand, please don’t cross it because beyond that... Don’t make me push you away. Don’t make me break your heart like that while I shatter my own. Don’t push this.

And Alex looked from the line to the man on the other side of that and fell in love anyway. Because Alex has spent his whole life pushing boundaries, watching people he loves and cares about push boundaries, and he never backs down from a challenge.

The challenge of getting to spend the rest of his life loving Henry and being loved back? No way Alex was going to back down from that.

just thinking about how henry was like: "i just can't afford for you to fall in love with me" and how it seems like a throw away comment but henry was being so deadly serious. henry who has been a little in love with alex for years is very much at peace with the fact that he can only belong to alex momentarily. he's spent years loving from a distance and now alex has feelings for him too? it's all this whimsical bonus for him really because he's spent years knowing he will never be with alex properly, that these moments are all they're going to get and all he can ever have with someone he loves. but alex? henry knows how passionate and bold alex can be. henry has to say it because whilst he can afford to break his own heart, he cannot afford to break alex's. he can't do that to him, he can't possibly be the person who hurts alex that way

[qbdream]

would you fuck a clone of yourself?

[bibridlizzie]

Cleo Sowande

[jenoutof10]

jobless monday (im in class with nothing to do)

[dormiloncito]

😼😼 made a new friend, now in an actual class

[moonlightpirate]

Here I am laying in bed desperately waiting for him to message me as if it'll be confirmation I didn't scare him away last night

[theballadofharkness]

She makes me laugh

Pairing: Agatha Harkness x fem!reader

Summary: At a coven meeting you are cornered by Jen and Alice who question just why someone as sweet as you could be the lover of infamous witch-killer Agatha Harkness which allows you to take a trip down memory lane.

Word count: 2K

A/N: In his version Agatha never lost her powers after going up against Wanda and is still doing her Witches Road con with reader 💜

Present Day

The room is dimly lit, a mix of flickering candlelight and the soft glow of a fire crackling in the hearth. Agatha, perched in an armchair near the fireplace, is deep in discussion with Billy, her new pet to mentor, who is peppering her with an endless stream of questions about runes and hexes. You’re standing by a side table, fingers idly tracing the edge of your teacup. The warm, herbal scent of your brew is comforting, but the moment doesn’t last.

"Mind if we join you?"

You glance up to find two witches Agatha and Billy had invited who ‘if memory serves you right, were called Jen and Alice standing before you, their expressions a mix of curiosity and thinly veiled skepticism. Jen, tall and imposing with sharp features, crosses her arms. Alice, smaller but no less intimidating, tilts her head, her dark curls bouncing slightly.

"Sure," you say softly, gesturing to the empty chairs nearby.

They don’t sit. Instead, they step closer, effectively boxing you in against the side table.

"So," Jen begins, her tone casual but with an edge. "We’ve been wondering about something."

"Yes," Alice chimes in, her voice saccharine but her eyes sharp. "How exactly does someone like you end up with someone like Agatha Harkness?"

You blink, caught off guard. "Someone like me?"

"You know," Jen says, gesturing vaguely at you. "A green witch. Soft-spoken. Sweet. The kind of person who probably rescues injured birds and talks to houseplants."

Alice glanced over at your partner. "And then there’s Agatha. Infamous witch killer. Master manipulator. She’s—"

"Agatha," you finish for her, your tone calm but firm.

Jen raises an eyebrow. "Exactly. How does that even work? What could you possibly see in her?" Their words are laced with skepticism, curiosity, and maybe a hint of judgment.

Their question echoes in your mind as you pause, your gaze drifting toward the fireplace. Agatha is gesturing animatedly as she explains something to Billy, her smirk firmly in place as she counters one of his endless questions. Even from across the room, you can feel her presence—commanding, magnetic, yet somehow still comforting. You smile as you find yourself slipping into a reverie, memories of you and Agatha unfurling like the petals of a flower.

~

Boston, Massachusetts~ 1902

When you first began exploring your gifts as a green witch, you’d been hesitant, unsure of yourself. Your magic felt wild, unpredictable, and you’d doubted if you’d ever truly master it.

But Agatha saw potential where others saw uncertainty.

The forest was alive with whispers. Leaves rustled overhead, their sound blending with the soft hum of insects and the distant hoot of an owl. You stood in the center of a small clearing, your hands trembling slightly as you tried—again—to coax the stubborn seedling in front of you to bloom.

Agatha leaned against a nearby tree, her arms crossed, watching you with an amused glint in her eyes. She was patient, but her smirk betrayed her confidence that you’d get it eventually.

“Darling, you’re overthinking it,” she said, her tone somewhere between teasing and encouraging. “Magic isn’t something you wrangle like a wild horse. It’s something you become.”

You frowned, glancing at her. “Easy for you to say. Your magic just... works. Mine feels like it has a mind of its own, and it’s not listening to me.”

At that, Agatha pushed off the tree and strode over, her boots crunching softly on the forest floor. She crouched beside you, resting a hand on your shoulder. Her touch was firm, grounding, and you immediately felt some of the tension ease from your body.

“You’re not trying to control the plant, are you?” she asked, her voice gentler now.

You hesitated. “Maybe a little.”

She laughed softly, her breath warm against your cheek as she leaned closer. “That’s not how green witches work, my love. Your power comes from connection, not control. Feel it. The seedling doesn’t need to be told to grow—it needs to be invited.”

Agatha’s hands slid over yours, guiding your fingers to gently brush against the delicate leaves of the seedling. “Close your eyes,” she murmured. “Feel the life inside it. The roots in the earth, the sun above, the pulse of the world around it.”

You did as she said, her voice a soothing anchor. At first, you felt nothing but your own nerves, a jittery buzz beneath your skin. But then, as her steady presence grounded you, you began to sense it—a faint thrum, like a heartbeat, nestled in the tiny plant.

“That’s it,” Agatha said, her tone laced with pride. “Now, give it a little nudge. Not with force—with love.”

You exhaled slowly, releasing the last of your tension, and let your magic flow. A soft green glow emanated from your fingertips, and before your eyes, the seedling began to grow, unfurling into a vibrant flower.

Agatha chuckled, her pride unmistakable. “I told you, darling. You’re extraordinary.”

For the first time, you believed it.

~

London, England~ 1934

The coven was gathered in a large, ancient hall, the air thick with magic and tension. Agatha stood at the center, commanding the attention of every witch present. Her presence was magnetic, her violet magic crackling faintly at her fingertips as she outlined her plans for the coven’s future. You sat off to the side, a little nervous but determined to support her. You were still new to gatherings like this, still finding your footing among witches who had centuries of experience over you. But tonight, you felt steadier, bolstered by the way Agatha had kissed your temple before the meeting and whispered, “You belong here. You belong with me.”

The murmurs in the room grew quieter as Agatha continued to speak, her sharp wit and undeniable power holding everyone in thrall. But not everyone was as respectful.

“So, what’s she doing here?”

The voice cut through the room like a dagger, dripping with condescension. You turned to see its owner: a tall, haughty witch with a cascade of dark hair and a sneer fixed firmly on her face. Her name was Evelyn, one of the oldest and most arrogant members of the coven that Agatha decided to target.

Agatha’s speech faltered for only a moment before her gaze snapped to Evelyn, her smile vanishing.

Evelyn didn’t seem to notice—or care. She gestured toward you dismissively. “She’s a green witch, isn’t she? What could someone like that possibly offer on the road to a coven like this? Much less to you, Agatha.”

A ripple of unease spread through the room. You felt your cheeks burn with embarrassment, but before you could respond, Agatha’s voice cut through the silence, sharp and dangerous.

“Careful, Evelyn,” she said, her tone cold as ice.

Evelyn smirked. “I’m only saying what everyone’s thinking. Green witches are... quaint. Charming, perhaps. But hardly worth—”

“Enough.”

The word cracked like a whip, and the entire room seemed to hold its breath. Agatha stepped forward, her violet magic sparking to life around her hands.

“You dare question why she’s here?” Agatha hissed, her voice rising with fury. “She’s here because she’s my witch. That alone makes her more powerful than you could ever hope to be.”

Evelyn opened her mouth, but Agatha raised a hand, silencing her.

“And if you had even a fraction of her talent,” Agatha continued, her voice dripping with venom, “you’d understand that green witches are not quaint—they are essential. Especially on the road. Their connection to life itself is magic in its purest form. And this one?” She turned, her piercing gaze softening as it landed on you. “This one is extraordinary.”

Evelyn faltered, her bravado crumbling under Agatha’s glare. Without another word, she slunk back into the shadows.

When the meeting ended, Agatha found you near the doorway, her smirk returning as she leaned close.

“Don’t let her words get to you, darling,” she said, her voice smooth. “She’s just jealous. And you know...” She paused, her grin sharpening. “I’ll take particular pleasure in draining her magic when the time comes. No one disrespects my girl.”

Her words sent a shiver down your spine, but you couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at your lips. With Agatha, you always felt safe. Always seen. Always loved.

~

Brooklyn, New York~ 1966

It was late, one of those evenings where time seemed to stretch lazily. You’d been in the kitchen, preparing tea, when Agatha waltzed in, still dressed from the day but barefoot, her hair slightly mussed. She had that playful smirk on her face, the one that always meant trouble—or fun.

From the little radio on the counter, Donovan’s "Season of the Witch" began to play. Agatha’s eyes lit up as she sauntered over, her hand outstretched.

“Dance with me, darling,” she said, her voice low and inviting.

“Here? Now?” you asked, but the smile creeping onto your face betrayed your feigned protest.

“Of course here, and always now,” she quipped, pulling you into her arms before you could resist.

You’d laughed as she twirled you around the small kitchen, her movements both elegant and ridiculous. She hummed along to the tune, spinning you until the world felt like a blur of candlelight and laughter. When the song slowed, her hands slid to your waist, her forehead resting gently against yours.

“In this moment,” she whispered, her voice unusually soft, “there’s no one else in the world. Just you and me.”

~

Westview, New Jersey~ 2023

One rainy afternoon, as the two of you sat curled up on the couch, Agatha decided to entertain you with her “wicked witch” routine. She stood dramatically, throwing her shawl over her shoulders like a cape, and cackled so convincingly you almost spilled your tea.

“My pretty!” she screeched, pointing a finger at you. “And your little garden, too!”

You’d laughed so hard you cried, clutching your sides as she pranced around the room, mimicking the exaggerated gestures of the Wicked Witch of the West.

“Do you know,” she said, finally flopping back onto the couch beside you, “that character was based on me?”

“Oh, really?” you teased, still catching your breath.

“Absolutely,” she said with a grin. “I was the blueprint. Too bad they didn’t get the look right- I felt downright insulted at the nose they went with.”

You laughed so hard your sides ached. Her ability to make you laugh, even on the darkest days, was one of the many reasons you’d fallen so deeply for her.

~

Back to the present

You can’t help but smile, your fingers tightening slightly around your teacup as Jen and Alice exchanged a glance, clearly impatient.

"Well?" Alice prompts. "What’s the big secret?"

You look back at Agatha just as she catches your eye. Her smirk softens, and with a theatrical flair, she blows you an exaggerated kiss. You giggle despite yourself, shaking your head.

Turning back to Jen and Alice, you simply say, "She makes me laugh."

Alice blinks, clearly taken aback by the simplicity of your answer.

"That’s it?" Jen asks, incredulous.

You shrug, your smile unwavering. "That’s everything."

Before they can press you further, Agatha’s voice cuts through the air.

"Darling!" she calls, her tone dripping with exaggerated affection. "Don’t let those two bore you to death. You’re far too precious for that."

The room chuckles, and you can’t help but laugh along.

Jen mutters something under her breath, but Alice just shakes her head, a small smile tugging at her lips. "Well, I guess if she makes you happy..."

"She does," you say firmly, your gaze drifting back to Agatha as your heart swells with affection.

And for the rest of the evening, as the coven continues their meeting, you sit a little taller, secure in the knowledge that the love you and Agatha share is as fierce and enduring as it is unexpected.

Masterlist

[spareham]

fascinated by devon because she's like the only character with any goddamn sense but also why the hell did she marry that man?

i would love to talk about this..... bcos honestly idk i just.. feel like i get them, mostly cos the show is asking me to believe it and i enjoy stories most when i go along with what theyre telling me until theyre done telling me about it.

but for real here's my take on devon & rickens relationship: when ricken and devon met, ricken was a lil rich boy who loved to write (poorly) and was always a little too privileged and weird, but ultimately very personable/funny and like... puppy dog level head over heels for devon. first love type shit on his end. i think they were probably young and it was probably an honest friendship that grew into a relationship at devons pace, and while ricken was (and still is) ridiculous and a little lost, that doesnt stop devon from loving him. then gemma and she and mark and ricken became close knit, a real ass family spending a lot of time together and devon & rickens relationship became better because of it. and then gemma died c: and devon had to get really fucking serious about caring for mark AND ricken.. and thats the devon we see today, grieving and carrying it all.

AND ricken is grieving... we see him cope with any negative feelings (insecurity etc) with false bravado and overthinking. And ricken who is both grieving and dealing poorly with the grieving people around him is in an ego-driven rabbit hole exacerbated by the random boderline-sycophants who bring out the worst in him.. but the ego rabbit hole friend group makes him feel wanted/loved/important so he's coping poorly and spiraling by playing into it without regard to how it affects devon and what it really 'means' about who he is/what he's achieving (he's not very introspective or self aware even tho he thinks himself to be!!) idk i just think that while ricken is like.. maybe the worst version of himself he's ever been at this point in their lives, he also wasn't ever some incredible amazing superhero person to begin with... he's kinda just a dope. and devon loves him. and he's wealthy lmao. and i just feel like even though they aren't some storybook fairy tale mark & gemma type romance, devons an extremely pragmatic person and wouldnt be with someone she didn't Want to be with. I don't think she'd take as much crap from mark as she does if she wasn't sure about ricken. but idk im prepared to eat my hat cos frankly i think they should open their marriage and devon should date women but thats just me

ANYWAY: Jen tullock talked about a lot of these things on the severance podcast ep she was on, and also a lot of my opinions were informed/solidified by He Ain't Heavy He's My Brother by cassiandor on ao3 and i think everyone who loves devon should read it.

[imaginationlover101]

Finders Keepers

Theo Nott x reader (Best Friends To Lovers)

Summary: Some people couldn't keep their eyes to themselves. Who would have known it would have taken one night to prove it all.

I couldn't believe him. There he stood in all his glory, to be quite honest, I've never seen him look so good. Dressed in a dark blue polo (my favorite shirt of his that we bought during a summer weekend back home. We were practically going through every shop trying to find a shirt that fit the ambiance the night, and then it fell into place. I told him that the dark navy brought out his eyes, and since then, he's worn it ever since). I became jealous of his shirt and the way it hugged his body, wishing that I was there supplying him with comfort instead.

I could feel the glances of annoyance from Pancy before even turning her way. Although I dont blame her, I was too busy staring at the boy who was a mere 50 feet away. Sipping through my drink, I finally turn my attention towards her.

"What was that again?"

For all but a moment, I suddenly became aware of my surroundings. The dress I had chosen to wear became increasingly tight, and I began to overthink all of my descions for the night. I wanted to jump out of my own skin, yet I couldn't figure out why. Maybe it was the atmosphere, the people, or the dark lights, but for some reason, I couldn't help but feel like something was off.

"It's about time. I've only called your name like twelve times. What's going on with you tonight?"

Pansy leaned against the curved wall of the slytherin common room with a mysterious look on her face. Twirling a black lock between her fingers, she observed the room searching for the awnser to her own question. Noticing a group of figures making a turn our way, I try to scheme an awnser as fast as possible.

"It's nothing, Pans. I just feel weird tonight."

Within a moment, Pansy could tell that something was wrong, but she had to hold her tongue tight when she noticed Jen and Molly coming our way. She couldn't help but roll her eyes at the fake interactions between the girls. It seemed as if the only thing we had in common was this party or our homeroom class.

For a moment, Y/N was able to turn her attention away from the girls and solely focus on the blue-eyed boy she cared so much about. She wanted nothing more to be cuddled up under his shoulder and became jealous of the way he freely talked to Matthew and Lorenzo.

Y/N and Theo had started off the night seemingly good, besides from the unresolved tension Y/N carried from Jen as she practically proclaimed her "hots" for Theo this morning in homeroom. Y/N wanted nothing more to spill her potion all over Jens' shirt, making her rethink the words that came out of her mouth. Theo was hers.

Well, hypothetically, the two weren't exactly dating yet, merley very close friends. But Y/N couldn't help but wish that the pair was more. They had known one another since they were children. How could all the memories of stargazing nights, Hogesmade weekends, summers in Italy, and cozy fall days in the park mean nothing to him? The two were practically attached by the hip, and Jen was bold to assume that she could get to Theo so easily.

Jen and her possy finally made their way towards Pansy, and Y/N. Y/N twirled her drink in her hand before quickly sloshing the whole thing down. Pansy had looked at her best friend in a questionable way. Y/N was never one to drink, now she was throwing drink after drink down? What in the world was wrong?

"Oh hello girls!"

An agonizing voice came from the crowd or at least that's what I thought, until I turned my head to see Jen standing a centimeter away from me. Looking at Pansy, I prayed she'd take the conversation from here.

"Oh Jen, Molly what are you doing here"

Pansy replied in a voice I had never heard from her before. It was a mix of sweetness, confusion and hate all in one. After all Jen and Molly are Gryfindors what were they doing at our party, in might I say the Slytherin common room.

Molly laughed for a moment but not before Jen quickly smacked her side.

"Oh well you know, Molly here is going out with Frederick Brasher, you guys know him right?"

That smug ugly women, Frederick Brasher, wasn't even into girls. The poor boy was probably hexed by Jen during his latest chess battle. She probably offered him, no forced him to give her the common room password or else she'd share his deepest secret. And who would of thought, weren't Gryfindors supposed to be kind?

"Well, yes, I know Frederick very well actully. I'm just surprised he gave Molly here chance."

Pansy looked towards Y/N in surprise. She had never heard her best friend give such digs, but I guess that's what happens after a drink or two. Searching her surroundings Pansy was surprised none of the guys made their way towards them yet. Usually they were always "saving the day" when an unknown was near.

Facing her attention on Molly, Y/N could see the way her face twisted in such a way of her knowing her "precious" secret.

"Speaking of chances, Y/N you wouldn't happen to know anything about Theodore Nott would you?"

Theodore? Who even called him Theodore anymore. If she thought she had a chance with Teddy after calling him Theodore she was wrong. After Molly's proclamation this morning in potions class, she was lucky Y/N hadn't kicked her out yet.

"Hmmm, what's the matter? Y/N cats got your tongue?"

Maybe I was dreaming, but it wasn't until I saw Pansy reaction that I realized I definitely was not. Her mouth was wide open, and her eyes were in immediate shock. If Jen thought she could get away with this, she was wrong.

"Actully no unlike you, I dont have to think of my words they just come right out. Now excuse me, I was just thinking about something far more important than you"

Making my way from out of the dreary drink station, I made my way towards the opposite corner near the very end of the room. The music was significantly louder here, and the green strobe lights from the ceiling were definitely showing it's affects.

"Ehhh!!! Look who it is!! The princess herself! We were just talking about you."

Matteo said, "It's definitely drunker than I expected." Making a note of my surroundings, I noticed how only Matteo, Theo, and Enzo were the only boys near. Matteo had some girl in his arms, while Enzo sat near the speakers thumping to every beat. Theo stood across from me, leaning against the corner of the wall. With a grin on his face, he motions to Pansy and the group I had left behind.

"Did you decided to grace us with your presence finally?"

Enzo leans up from the speakers, his voice projecting only so far. Another one of our friends who was subjected to the drink of alcohol. His breath smelt like cheap beer, and when he got up to say hello, he quickly sat back down when he realized there's no point.

"Whats this?"

Y/N says practically screaming. The music was far too loud for anyone to hear something. Theos face morphs into confusion, and he leans down from his stance and comes closer to my ear. With his head near the nook of my head, I was grateful for the dark lights in the room.

"I just said said who did this"

Pointing the floor he finally recognizes what I said. Wrapping an arm around my waist, he pulls me closer.

"Who else, it was Draco before these two came and trashed everything"

Nodding, I began to look up at him. Even in the dark, I could still see his blue eyes. I was starting to get nervous, but I had to stay strong to my word. Bringing his shoulder down so that he could hear me, I slowly began to speak what was on my mind.

"If I asked you to do something would you?"

For a moment, he pulls back, staring directly at my face. He begins to inspect every inch of my skin before answering my question. It was as if he knew me too well.

"Of course bella, is everything alright?"

Nodding my head I drag Theo closer to me. He sways for a minute, surprised at the sudden contact. Wrapping my hands around his neck I lean towards him once again. Placing a hand near the side of his cheek, I raise up to his ear.

"Kiss me"

Theos eyes widen and I begin to roll mine as I waited for him to reciprocate the feeling back. Running my fingers though his hair, he began to smirk and brought his face closer to mine.

With his lips on mine, I began to hear the whoops and hollers from all of our friends. Finally breaking away, Theo tucked me in the nook of his arm in a comforting embrace. From there I could clearly see the shock on Jens' face and to me that made it worth it, time and time again.

[mistyshane30]

You Were Never Mine to Lose (Chapter 8)

Synopsis: A day of shopping and a night of games bring the group closer, filled with laughter, teasing, and playful chaos. But as the night winds down, unspoken tensions linger beneath the surface. 

Word count: 4.7K 

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol consumption, Subtle angst, Lingering tension, Unresolved emotions 

You wake up to a dull, throbbing headache—the kind that comes from drinking alone and overthinking too much. Your mouth is dry, and the first thing you do is reach blindly for the glass of water you left on the coffee table last night—only to find it empty. Great. 

Groaning, you sit up, wincing at the stiffness in your neck. Right. You fell asleep on the couch. Rubbing your temples, you glance at your phone. 

It’s already 1:07 PM.  

You blink at the time, still half-asleep, trying to piece together how you even ended up here. The last thing you remember is Adele playing on repeat, the soft glow of the lamp, and the slow burn of whiskey settling in your chest. 

You unlock your phone, and immediately, a flood of group chat messages fills the screen. 

Coven Group Chat 

Jen: "Shopping at Malibu Country Mart today. Be at the main entrance by 3 PM. Also, slumber party at my villa—7 PM. Don't be late." 

Alice: Ooooh, slumber party at 7PM, let’s gooo! 

Lilia: I’m bringing face masks and wine. This is a serious girls’ night. 

Wanda: Better not back out, Y/N. 

Lilia: If she even sees this message. Bet she’s still asleep. 

Alice: She’s totally still asleep. 

Jen: Sleeping off a wild night, probably. 

Wanda: Or she just drinks her problems away like an emotionally unavailable CEO… 

Lilia: Damn, psychoanalyze her more. 

Agatha: She’s reading all of this right now and deciding whether or not to respond. 

You pause, staring at Agatha’s message. It was sent only a few minutes ago. It’s not teasing like the others—it’s casual, knowing. The way she always seems to read you so easily, even through a screen, sends a flicker of something down your spine. 

With a sigh, you toss your phone aside and sit up, swinging your legs over the edge of the couch. Your body feels heavy, weighed down by the remnants of last night’s emotions. The living room is still dim, the curtains drawn shut, and you don’t miss the sight of the nearly empty whiskey bottle on the coffee table. You shake your head and stand, stretching as you make your way to the bathroom. A long shower helps, the hot water washing away some of the heaviness in your limbs. 

Once you're dry, you head to your closet, picking out something that makes you look far more put together than you feel—a black sleeveless knit turtleneck top, grey wide-leg trousers, and your Gucci Arielle crystal-heel ankle boots. You add your Bvlgari Serpenti sunglasses for an extra touch, though part of you knows you’ll need them to shield your still-sleepy, slightly puffy eyes. A tote bag to complete the look, and you're set. 

Feeling somewhat more like yourself, you move to the kitchen, making yourself a quick meal—the first of the day. As you eat, you absentmindedly scroll through your emails, skimming over a few work updates, though nothing urgent enough to demand your attention. Once that’s done, you switch to social media, scrolling without really processing anything, just filling the time. 

By the time you check the clock, it’s already 2:45 PM. 

Then a familiar chime of your phone breaks your thoughts. Another message from the group chat. 

Jen: Y/N, if you’re still asleep by the time we leave, I swear— 

You huff out a laugh, finally picking up your coffee and settling on the couch with your phone. You take a slow sip, letting the warmth ground you before finally typing a reply. 

You: Calm down, I’m alive. 

The second you hit send, Agatha’s typing bubble appears. It lingers for a few seconds before disappearing. 

You stare at the screen for a moment before shaking your head. You don’t have time to analyze it. 

You sigh, setting your phone down and pushing your plate aside. Grabbing your bag, you slip on your sunglasses and head toward the door, stepping outside. The afternoon sun is warm but not unbearable, and as you make your way toward the main entrance, you take a deep breath, bracing yourself. 

You don’t know what today will bring—just that she’ll be there. And lately, that’s been enough to keep your mind racing. 

As you step up to the van, you notice it’s just Jen, Lilia, Alice, and Wanda waiting. No Agatha. You’re about to ask where she is when a familiar voice speaks up behind you. 

“Did anyone bring a power bank? I forgot to plug mine in this morning.” 

You turn around, and there she is—Agatha, looking effortlessly put together despite the casual occasion. She’s wearing a beige lightweight wool blazer over a crisp white silk blouse, tucked neatly into ankle-length trousers of the same shade. Stiletto-heel sandals complete the look, and her black shades sit perched on her nose, adding to the polished aura. Her hair is styled in a bouncy blowout, making her look every bit the governor she is. 

You blink, then smirk. “Are we going shopping, or are we launching a campaign?” 

Agatha slides her shades down just enough to give you a look. “Says the woman dressed like she’s about to close a million-dollar deal.” 

You scoff, but before you can fire back, Lilia sighs dramatically. “Oh my god, just get in the van. You two can flirt inside.” 

You roll your eyes as Agatha just chuckles, and the group piles into the van. The ride is smooth, the warm Malibu sun casting golden streaks through the windows. There’s easy chatter—Wanda and Alice going over what stores they want to hit first, Jen already debating whether she needs another designer purse, and Lilia talking about trying some overpriced organic smoothie she saw in an influencer’s post. 

Agatha, next to you as always, is scrolling through her phone, but you can tell she’s listening to the conversation, occasionally smirking at their antics. 

It’s barely a five-minute drive before the van pulls up to the Malibu Country Mart. As you all step out, the salty ocean breeze mixes with the faint scent of coffee from a nearby café. The place is buzzing with people—locals and tourists alike, dressed in their effortlessly chic beach town attire. 

Jen claps her hands together. “Alright, where to first?” 

You catch Agatha adjusting her blazer, her rings catching the sunlight as she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. It takes you a second too long to look away. 

After browsing through boutiques like L’Agence, James Perse, and Ralph Lauren—trying on clothes for fun but not really buying anything—you and the group make your way through the rest of Malibu Country Mart. Jen picks out some dresses and blouses at Ralph Lauren, Alice finds a few pieces of jewelry she can’t resist, and Lilia stocks up on candles. You just enjoy the walk, letting the easy conversations and occasional teasing fill the afternoon. 

Next, you stop by Malibu Shaman, admiring the eclectic art pieces, then wander through Cielo Home, browsing home decor for inspiration rather than purchase. Malibu Colony Co. is your last stop before a break, where Alice finds another piece of jewelry that catches her eye. 

Hunger starts creeping in, and the group decides on coffee and pastries at Alfred Coffee. But before you can get there, Jen suddenly stops in front of a flower shop called Hecate’s Garden. She steps inside without hesitation, the bell chiming softly as she pushes the door open. "I actually haven’t found a florist for my wedding yet," she muses, running her fingers gently over a bouquet of white peonies. 

The rest of you follow, spreading out to explore the shop. The scent of fresh flowers fills the air, mixed with the faintest trace of essential oils. Agatha lingers near a display of deep purple calla lilies, her fingers trailing absently over the petals. You glance at her for a moment before looking away, busying yourself with a stack of floral arrangement books. 

Jen walks toward the front desk and rings the bell, waiting patiently for the florist. A moment later, the sound of footsteps echoes from the back room, and soon, a woman steps out, wiping her hands on her apron. "Sorry for the wait! I was just finishing up a bouquet in the back," she says. 

You had expected an old woman to own this shop, but you’re surprised to see someone else entirely. Your eyes scan her for a moment—grey cropped tank top, faded jeans, an apron covered in flower stains, chunky boots, and her hair pulled into a messy bun. And that face… it looks familiar. Then it clicks. 

It’s the woman who kept winning at the Water Race back at Pacific Park—Rio Vidal. 

Quickly, you look away and slide your sunglasses on, as if that’ll do anything to hide you. 

Jen doesn’t notice your mini crisis. "Oh, it’s fine! I actually wanted to ask—do you have experience with wedding arrangements?" she asks. 

Rio nods, tilting her head. "I do. Are you a wedding planner, or—?" 

"The bride-to-be," Jen corrects with a smile, then gestures toward the group. "And these are my bridesmaids." 

Rio smiles, scanning the group, but then her gaze lands on you. She leans in slightly, as if to make sure she’s seeing correctly. 

"Y/N!?" 

You have no choice but to awkwardly face her, forcing a smile. "Rio," you say, trying to sound casual, though your cheeks feel like they’re on fire. 

Your friends exchange glances, clearly intrigued. Jen raises an eyebrow. "Wait, you two know each other?" 

Rio grins. "Yeah, we met at Pacific Park a few days ago. Y/N here was very competitive at the Water Race. Oh! And I actually gave her my business card—told her to pass it along in case you needed a florist." 

Jen tilts her head. "Really? Because I never got a business card." 

All eyes shift to you. You clear your throat. "I… forgot to give it to you." 

"Mmmhmm," Wanda hums, smirking. "Or maybe you just wanted to keep her number for yourself." 

You shoot her a glare, not amused. Wanda simply chuckles, clearly enjoying this too much. You, on the other hand, would love nothing more than to sink into the floor. 

The group seems entirely entertained by the revelation—except Agatha. Her expression is unreadable, but there’s something in her eyes that makes you uneasy. 

Thankfully, Rio steers the conversation back to business, chatting with Jen about the wedding. You take the moment to nudge Wanda in the shoulder, still irritated by her teasing. She just laughs under her breath. 

After discussing a few details, Jen thanks Rio, and the group prepares to leave. As you turn to exit, Rio smiles at all of you in a formal farewell, but as her eyes meet yours again, she winks. 

Your friends catch it. They don’t say anything, but their reactions are clear. 

Except for Agatha, whose expression remains cool, unimpressed. 

You force a small smile at Rio before stepping out of the shop, exhaling a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. 

When you finally reach Alfred Coffee and settle into a table, placing your orders, you notice your friends all staring at you. Expectantly. 

You blink. "What?" 

Lilia snorts. "Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because you totally just got winked at by the hot florist?" 

Alice smirks. "Yeah, and maybe because you looked like you wanted to sink into the floor the entire time." 

You groan, already regretting sitting down. "Can we not?" 

Wanda leans forward, grinning. "So, are you and Rio a thing now?" 

"No," you answer quickly. "We barely even talked." 

"But you could," Lilia teases. "Like, what if—" 

"There is no what if," you interrupt, shaking your head. "We met at a carnival game. That’s it." 

Alice raises an eyebrow. "And yet, she remembered you. And she winked." 

"Okay, why is the wink such a big deal?" 

Wanda shrugs dramatically. "Because it was a wink. A flirtatious, ‘see you later’ kind of wink." 

You sigh, taking a sip of your coffee instead of responding. The teasing goes on for a while, your friends fully enjoying watching you squirm. All except Agatha, who is busy on her phone, barely acknowledging the conversation. 

At some point, Alice leans forward. "Okay, okay, but back up—how exactly did you and Rio meet?" 

You exhale, knowing there’s no escape. "It was at Pacific Park," you start, setting your cup down. "She was at the Water Race game, and I—" you pause briefly before continuing, "Agatha was with me when we met." 

Lilia’s brow lifts slightly, but no one comments on that part. "And?" 

You clear your throat. "Rio kept winning. Like, every single round. Apparently, no one ever beats her at that game." 

"But you did," Alice points out. 

You nod. "Yeah. Eventually, I won. She came up to congratulate me after, since, according to her, it never happens. We talked a little, and she gave me her business card for Jen. That’s it." 

Lilia grins. "Interesting." 

"Not interesting," you correct. "Just a random carnival game. That’s all." 

The teasing continues, but you choose to ignore most of it. Eventually, the coffee is gone, and the group decides to head back to the resort. As everyone parts ways, Jen reminds everyone about the slumber party at her villa later. You nod, making your way back to your own villa, glad to finally get a moment of peace—though you’re not entirely sure why Agatha’s silence feels louder than all the teasing combined. 

It’s almost 7 p.m. when you make your way to Jen’s villa, the evening air still warm against your skin. You knock on the door, expecting Jen to answer, but instead, it swings open to reveal Agatha. 

She’s standing there in a set of deep purple silk pajamas, the fabric catching the light just enough to make her look effortlessly elegant. Her top is unbuttoned just enough to hint at the curve of her collarbone, and for a brief, fleeting second, you forget why you’re even here. 

Her gaze sweeps over you, slow and deliberate, before her lips curl into a smirk. 

“Well, well,” she drawls, leaning against the doorframe. “Didn’t realize this was that kind of slumber party.” 

You blink, confused for half a second—until you register the teasing glint in her eyes. And then it hits you—your outfit. 

You’re in a maroon silk cami and matching shorts, something you threw on without a second thought. Or at least, that’s what you’re telling yourself now. But standing here under Agatha’s sharp gaze, the air between you suddenly feels different—charged in a way you can’t quite place. 

She tilts her head, her smirk deepening. “Not that I’m complaining. You certainly know how to make an entrance.” 

Your breath catches, just for a second. There’s something about the way she says it—not just teasing, but something else, something lingering beneath her tone. Or maybe you’re imagining it. Maybe you want to be imagining it. 

You recover quickly, masking the brief flicker of nerves with a smirk of your own. “And here I thought you were the one dressing for attention, Mrs. Governor.” 

Her smirk twitches, like she knows exactly what you’re doing. But before she can fire back, you step past her into the villa, pretending your pulse isn’t just slightly offbeat. 

Inside, the others are already settled in the living room. Jen and Lilia are on the floor with face masks on, sipping their drinks, while Wanda and Alice lounge nearby, looking entirely too comfortable. The moment their eyes land on you, they exchange glances, and then— 

“Oh, damn,” Lilia hums, tilting her head. “Someone came dressed to kill.” 

Wanda wiggles her brows. “I know we said slumber party, but I didn’t think we meant lingerie ad.” 

Jen laughs, shaking her head. “I swear, you always have to make things dramatic, don’t you?” 

You roll your eyes, plopping down onto one of the cushions. “Can’t a girl just wear something comfortable?” 

“Comfortable?” Alice repeats. “That’s not comfortable. That’s a statement.” 

As the teasing continues, you catch Agatha sinking onto the couch out of the corner of your eye, her expression unreadable. But when you glance at her fully, she’s already looking away, swirling the drink in her hand like she has better things to focus on. 

Maybe it’s nothing. 

Or maybe it’s something. 

Either way, you shake it off and grab a drink, ready to see what the night has in store. 

You guys order some pizza to eat while chatting, the conversation flowing easily as laughter fills the room. Between bites, you find yourself stealing glances at Agatha every chance you get, catching the way the dim lighting makes her look impossibly softer. She seems relaxed tonight, the usual sharpness in her gaze slightly dulled by the warmth of the atmosphere. 

After eating, Wanda suggests playing Jenga. The first few rounds are fun—competitive banter, exaggerated celebrations when someone successfully pulls out a block, groans when the tower inevitably collapses. But after two rounds, the excitement dies down, and everyone starts losing interest. 

Lilia, ever the instigator, claps her hands together. "Alright, Jenga was a bust. How about Truth or Dare?" 

You let out an incredulous laugh, shaking your head. "Are we seriously playing Truth or Dare? What is this, a high school sleepover?" 

"Oh, come on," Wanda smirks, already reaching for her drink. "We’re all adults here. What’s the worst that could happen?" 

You scoff but ultimately shrug. It’s harmless fun, right? Just a game. And besides, the slight buzz from the drinks makes everything seem a little funnier, a little lighter. 

The game begins with everyone sitting in a circle on the floor, a half-empty pizza box in the middle and glasses of wine or soda scattered around. Jen starts first, picking "Truth." Lilia leans in, smirking. "Alright, Jen—when did you know your fiancé was 'the one'?" 

Jen hums, thinking. "I guess when he stayed up all night helping me prepare for a court case even though he had no clue what he was doing. He just wanted to help." 

Alice clutches her chest dramatically. "Ugh, that's disgustingly sweet." 

The turns continue. Alice chooses "Dare" and is dared to text an ex a vague "I miss you." She groans but does it, then immediately turns her phone off. "Nope. I'm not dealing with that tonight." 

Lilia picks "Truth" and is asked who her last crush was. She sighs. "Some barista at this cute coffee shop near my apartment. We flirted a lot, but I think she was just being nice for tips." 

Agatha goes next. She swirls her wine glass, eyes flicking to you briefly. "Dare." 

Jen, who has been waiting for this moment, leans forward. "I dare you to say something you genuinely admire about Y/N." 

Your head snaps toward Jen. "Excuse me?" 

The group turns to Agatha, waiting. She tilts her head, considering, then meets your eyes. "She’s… determined. Once she sets her mind on something, she sees it through." 

Your stomach flips at her words, and you quickly look away, reaching for your drink to distract yourself. The air feels charged, but before anyone can comment, the game moves on. 

Then it's Wanda's turn. She picks "Dare," and Lilia grins wickedly. "I dare you to send a voice memo confessing your undying love to a random contact." 

Wanda rolls her eyes but takes her phone out, scrolling. "Fine, but if this backfires, I’m haunting all of you." She records the message dramatically. "I have loved you in silence for too long. Every moment without you is agony." She sends it and immediately regrets it. "Oh my God, I sent it to my dentist." 

The room erupts into laughter. 

Then, it's your turn. Wanda grins. "Truth or Dare?" 

You should’ve known she’d be trouble. "Dare." 

"Text Rio. Just a simple 'Hey~'." 

Your face heats instantly. "Are you serious?" 

"Rules are rules," Lilia chimes in, nudging you. 

With an exasperated sigh, you pull out Rio’s business card from your wallet, type in the number, and send the text. "Happy now?" You show them the screen. 

The group cheers, but you glance at Agatha. She’s focused on her drink, spinning the stem of her wine glass between her fingers, her expression unreadable. 

The game continues, with dares getting bolder and truths getting more revealing. Alice, emboldened by the wine, gets dared to send a flirty text to her neighbor and does so with a dramatic flourish. Lilia is forced to prank call her boss and nearly chokes on laughter trying to sound serious. Wanda, still recovering from her dentist confession, picks "Truth" and is asked who her biggest celebrity crush is. "Easy," she smirks. "Charlize Theron." 

Then it's Jen's turn again. She picks "Dare," and Alice grins. "I dare you to take a shot without making a face." 

Jen raises a brow, unfazed, and downs the shot with ease, setting the glass down with a smirk. "You underestimate me." 

Agatha, who has been quietly observing, finally gets another turn. She considers for a moment, then picks "Truth." 

Lilia leans in, her expression mischievous. "Alright, Agatha, be honest—have you ever been interested in someone in this room?" 

Agatha raises a brow, swirling her wine glass lazily. "Interest is a broad term." 

The group groans at her deflection, but Lilia presses on. "Fine, let me rephrase. Have you ever thought about kissing someone in this room?" 

Agatha exhales a soft chuckle, taking a slow sip of her wine before answering, "Maybe." 

More protests erupt, demands for details flying from all directions. But Agatha just smirks, her expression unreadable. You grip your glass a little tighter, pulse quickening. For a second—just a second—you swear her eyes flicker toward you, but it's gone before you can be sure. 

The game moves on, but your mind lingers. 

The game continues with even riskier dares and truths, laughter filling the room as the night deepens. 

Then, it comes back to you. You pick "Dare" again, and Jen lights up mischievously. "Perform a seductive dance for the group." 

You groan, throwing your head back. "Are we really doing this?" 

"Oh, absolutely," Alice smirks. 

Sighing, you stand up, stretching dramatically. The speaker is still playing soft music in the background, but Lilia quickly changes it to something more fitting—sultry, slow. You roll your eyes but go along with it, swaying your hips, running a hand down your body in exaggerated moves. Jen and Lilia pretend to throw money at you, and Wanda is recording, cackling. You steal a glance at Agatha, and— 

She’s watching. Intently. That same amused expression, but her lips are slightly parted, fingers tapping against her wine glass as if in thought. The way her eyes linger sends a shiver down your spine. 

You finish with a twirl and drop back down into your seat. "There. Happy?" 

"Oh, very," Jen teases. 

The night deepens, the dares get wilder, and the truths get riskier. By the time you’re all leaning into each other, laughing over some ridiculous confession from Lilia about making out with a stranger in an elevator, you can’t help but notice Agatha hasn’t picked another dare. 

And she’s barely taken a sip from her wine since that one particular dare was mentioned. 

The game carries on, but your thoughts keep circling back—to Agatha, to the way she looked at you, and to what exactly that meant. 

After the game, you guys decide to watch a movie. You sink into the couch, stretching your legs out comfortably, when Agatha casually takes the seat right beside you. You pretend not to care, keeping your expression neutral, but inside? Yeah, you definitely care. You tell yourself it's just because of the lingering tension from the game, but who are you fooling? You can feel the warmth of her so close, the occasional brush of her arm against yours, and it makes your skin buzz with awareness. 

Jen scrolls through the available movies, listing them out loud. 

“Okay, we’ve got Jennifer’s Body, How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days, Legally Blonde... ooh, Gone Girl, and then—The Exorcist?” Jen reads, glancing at the group for reactions. 

“Absolutely not,” Alice says immediately, shaking her head. “I am not watching The Exorcist before bed. I will sleep with the lights on.” 

“Lilia might actually like that one,” Wanda teases. 

Lilia just shrugs. “I mean, I wouldn’t mind. But I know Alice would kill me in my sleep if I made her watch it.” 

“She’s right,” Alice agrees. “Pick something else.” 

“Fine, fine,” Jen says, scrolling again. “What about 10 Things I Hate About You?” 

Wanda and Alice immediately light up. “Yes, yes, yes,” Wanda says, pointing at the screen. 

“Oh, classic. That’s the one,” Alice nods. 

Jen turns to the rest of you. “Votes?” 

“I’m in,” Lilia says easily. 

“Same,” you add. “It’s one of my favorite movies.” 

At that, Agatha gives you a look. A slow, unreadable glance before she tilts her head, brow slightly raised, like she just learned something new about you. You turn to her. 

“What?” you ask, narrowing your eyes at her. 

She just shrugs, smirking slightly. “Nothing.” Then she looks away, clearly amused about something. 

You squint at her for a second before deciding to let it go. Jen, satisfied with the choice, clicks play and turns off the lights to set the mood for a “cinematic experience.” 

As the movie starts, you settle into your seat, sipping your drink. Occasionally, your gaze drifts toward Agatha, watching how she reacts to different scenes. You steal glances at her when she’s not looking, curious. 

Then comes that scene. 

Heath Ledger, standing in the bleachers, belting out Can’t Take My Eyes Off You with a mischievous grin. 

Your grip on your drink tightens slightly. Not because of the scene itself—you’ve seen it a hundred times. But because, in the dim glow of the screen, you catch Agatha watching it with an expression that’s softer than usual, a flicker of amusement in her eyes. And maybe it’s your mind playing tricks on you, but for a brief second, you swear you feel her gaze shift toward you. 

You immediately look back at the screen, pretending to be engrossed in the movie. 

Great. Now I’m imagining things. 

You shake it off, focusing on the film. But then comes the poem scene. Julia Stiles’ Kat stands at the front of the classroom, voice shaking, eyes brimming with emotion as she delivers I hate the way I don’t hate you, not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all. 

You shift slightly in your seat. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Agatha blink a little more than usual. Her lips press together like she’s trying to suppress some kind of reaction. 

You don’t know why, but your chest feels tight watching her watch this scene. You tell yourself it’s just because it’s a good movie. That’s all. 

Definitely. That’s all. 

The movie ends, and one by one, everyone starts settling in for the night. The room is filled with quiet murmurs, blankets being adjusted, and the occasional yawn as exhaustion finally catches up. 

You lay down on the floor mattress beside Wanda, letting out a slow exhale as you adjust your pillow. The room is dim, only the soft glow of a lamp in the corner keeping the space from total darkness. Just as you start to get comfortable, Agatha lays down on the other side of you, close enough that you can feel the faintest shift of the mattress beneath her weight. 

You immediately freeze. 

With your back to her, you tell yourself not to think about it—to ignore the way the air shifts, heavier somehow, charged with something unspoken. To pretend the space between you isn’t filled with quiet tension, that your heart isn’t betraying you with every uneven beat. You stay still, breathing slow and steady, feigning indifference. Pretending it doesn’t affect you. Pretending you don’t feel her there. 

Instead, you turn to Wanda and make quiet small talk, anything to distract yourself from the warmth of Agatha’s presence behind you. Wanda hums sleepily in response, her words growing softer with each reply. 

Eventually, her breathing evens out, signaling that she’s drifted off. You should do the same. 

But you don’t move. You refuse to shift, to roll over or adjust, because that would mean acknowledging Agatha is right there. 

So instead, you stay perfectly still, facing Wanda’s side, eyes closed, forcing yourself to sleep—even as the awareness of Agatha lingers in every breath you take. 

Taglist: @6stolenangel9 @charlottelinlin1 @milflovers4 @claramelooo @loveshineslikethesky @kaymariesworld @marcelinaceciliarose @misskassycollins @greyella @theothersideofthescreen @whitelotus00 @agathaallalongg @psychickryptonitebouquet @sweetmidnights @angel-kitten-babygirl-u-choose @filmedbyharkness @brekker157 @rizzlesregal13 @starbucks-06 @aboutcustardcreams @crescendoofstars @neverfindmegone @mommy-mommy-mommy-hi

[beautifulhigh]

The smallest of looks is the loudest moment in the room

Just a little one from me to save me from going insane and to sate my followers...

ZAHRA: How long has this been going on?

Alex is focused on Zahra, Henry is staring off into the middle distance until Alex answers her.

ALEX: Since New Year's.

And it's that Henry reacts to. Have a close up.

Henry's gaze flicks to Alex. In this exact moment (1 hour, 5 minutes, and 41 seconds), he looks at Alex for a few seconds.

This is the moment Alex has put a start date on this thing between them.

It's a little more certain here than it is in the book:

"How long has this been happening?" "Since, um, New Year's." (page 233)

The placement of that "um" holds meaning for me - in the book Alex is hesitating before he pins a start date on him and Henry. He's trying to figure it out and that's what he goes for. Because how long has it been going on? Since they started sharing intimate thoughts and fears? Since they increased the benefits they had added to their friendship? Since the Red Room?

Nope. Alex goes for the moment when the possibility between them changed and he completely ignores the weeks of silence that happened straight after. The period of time in which Henry was full of fear over what he'd done, what Alex might do. In the book we know he runs scared, going on a public date and being photographed.

If there was a prince, and he was gay, and he kissed someone, and maybe it mattered, that prince might have to run a little bit of interference. (page 125)

We don't have anything like that in the movie but we do have the silence. We see Henry's fear when he comes into the Red Room. Not just because of the line he crossed with Alex but because he has exposed himself and his most closely guarded secret, a glimpse of his true self.

He will know that Alex isn't going to out him - they've spent long enough talking and getting to know each other for that to not be Henry's fear. And if he was then it would have happened long before the State Dinner. Henry's fear is about losing Alex, losing the friendship, losing that connection with the boy he's wanted since the Olympics/Climate Conference.

I'd put money on Henry promising himself, once upon a time, that he would never do anything to risk losing what small pieces of Alex he could have in his life. And when they start up this thing he goes in thinking that this is all he can have, all he will get.

"I thought I could have some part of you, and just never say [I love you], and you'd never have to know, and one day you'd get tired of me and leave, because I'm--" (Page 272)

Henry didn't think he would have all of Alex, at least not anything of import, that Alex wouldn't be as far in as Henry is. And yet here he is in this hotel room, declaring they have been this thing since that kiss. Since before they properly made out in the Red Room, went down on each other in Alex's bedroom, talked about "keeping things casual" before embarking on the most insanely devoted shag fest known to mankind.

Alex has been in since New Year's and he tells Zahra just that.

In the movie he is more decisive. (Just like the instant "No" when Zahra asks if it would make a difference if she asked them to stop.)

Since New Year's. Since the moment Henry kissed me and I became unable to think about anything else except doing it again. And doing other stuff.

And even though Henry ghosted him right after, even though the next thing Henry said to Alex after his apology and disappearance into the night was another apology for his behaviour, Alex has labelled that moment, that kiss, as their start.

The moment when Henry was brave.

And in the movie we get to see Henry's reaction to that. They've been discovered, things are about to blow up in a way they can't control, and Alex says that as far as he's concerned this thing between them has been going on all year.

Before the emails. Before Paris. Before the State Dinner. Alex has been Henry's since New Year's and this is the moment he finds that out.

[vigilante24ish]

🌙 Moon Phases 🌙

Agatha Harkness X Fem!Reader

Chapter 1. - Chapter 2. - Chapter 3

Chapter 4. - Chapter 5. - Chapter 6

Chapter 7. - Chapter 8. - Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Word Count: 1588

Chapter 10:

You approached Jen, who was trying to think.

"What ingredients do you need?"

You had not been around a lot of Potion Witches but you knew Jen would need certain things to start making the potion.

You merely prayed you would find them soon enough in this huge house, for enough time had already been wasted.

Jen thought carefully for a moment. "I need frankincense and the gut of a eusocial insect."

Alice extended her hand, grabbing Teen's lower arm. "We'll handle that first part." She said and, along with the boy, rushed to find the two ingredients.

Jen took a deep breath, trying not to overthink or let the ticking sound of the clock distract her. She needed to be concentrated, for there was no room for error.

"I need a corpse that's been decaying for at least 30 million years."

Your eyebrows went up, not expecting that such a thing could actually be part of an antidote. It was in those times you really hated potions and was reminded how complicated they were.

"Is that something that's available? Cause I don't know what you're talking about." Agatha commented, anxiously waiting for the swelling to go away.

"Why do I have to translate? It's zooplankton." Jen explained, but that did not seem to ring a bell to any of you. "It's in petroleum products."

Suddenly, Lilia seemed to get an idea. "That we maybe can do."

Agatha nodded. "Lilia, let's go."

You watched the two women go and you glanced at Jen, feeling odd to be left with her.

"You help me find a cauldron or something to use!"

You could only nod as you both started to search the kitchenware, but nothing seemed fitting enough or your cause or big for that matter.

Your eyes went to the square sink, and a crazy idea popped into your mind. It was crazy. It was perhaps wrong, but right now, you were literally fighting for your life.

"The sink!" You pointed out, earning her attention.

"Huh?" Jen exclaimed.

"The sink is big enough, and we can clog it, so the water remains."

Jen looked at you for a moment, wondering if you had gone mad, but then she looked at the sink, and she could somehow imagine it that it could work.

"Okay... I can work with this," she agreed and once again focused on you. "I need one more ingredient. Eye of Newt, " she explained, but you only ended up staring at her for a little longer, blinking slowly. In the end, she gave up. "You fill the sink, I will go get it"

"Sounds like a good plan" you agreed.

You would not really point out that potions was your weak spot, though by now it might have been obvious enough.

Choosing not to comment, you watched her leave in search of a spice pantry while you placed the tab in the sink and let the warm water flow.

The clock next to you kept counting down, making your heart race faster due to the poison but also due to worry. A constant reminder that your chances of survival kept getting smaller was not helping keep you calm.

You placed your hands on the kitchen bench and leaned slightly forward, head hung low. As you felt the hot steam coming from the pooling water, you closed your eyes and tried to take a few deep breaths.

You sure did not remember the trials being that stressful the last time, yet centuries had passed ever since.

The sound of the clock seemed to slowly go away, blending with the background noises until it was a deep but weak echo at the very back.

The sudden change made you open your eyes, wondering what was going on. To your surprise, the house seemed dark and with barely any light present.

The faint sound of multiple steps came from a door to the very left, and you found yourself slowly walking towards it, leaving behind the kitchen and the sink that was halfway full.

As you kept walking, the sound of steps grew louder, and as you took a turn to the left; you could not help but gasp silently.

The hallway or room or whatever was meant to be there seemed to have expanded and was covered in darkness. The only thing visible was the light of torches, casting shadows on the faces of some familiar men.

"Get the witch!" One shouted, lifting a heavy object with both hands.

"Grab her!"

"Demon!"

"Kill her"

Your instincts told you to run away, to get as far away as possible but sudden fear clouded your mind; paralysing you.

You could only stare as the angry men kept shouting, the sound of chains triggering dark memories within you.

"No... no, no...no..." You repeated again and again as you brought your hands in front of you, forming an X in a futile attempts to protect yourself from the hits that were about to come.

Your white magic glowed in your palms and around your fingers, your instincts about to use it to protect you against the old enemy that had been brought back.

Before it could, however, it was stopped.

A strong pair of arms grabbed your wrist and shook you faintly as a muffled voice barely reached your eyes.

Gathering the courage, you dared to open your eyes only to see yourself with one knee against the wooden floor.

The angry men from before were gone, the lights were back to normal, and Agatha was holding your wrists; having almost gotten hit by your magic.

"You are with me, sugar?" She asked, bending slightly as if trying to ensure you would not fall; her grip on your wrists strong.

When Agatha was coming back with Lilia, she felt triumphant. She knew she found the ingredients into Jen's products, and she would use that as a chance to expose her dirty secret about her "natural" products.

However, before she could; Lilia seemed to get trapped into some sort of illusion or nightmare; one that actually worried Agatha, mostly on what the old witch had seen to terrify her that much.

Once this was over, she had made her way towards the kitchen when she saw you; staring at nothing. She called your name but her smile had disappeared once she realised you were also fighting an illusion, one to make you beg.

Her instincts kicked in and she handed all of the products she had right into Lilia's hands, not caring if the older witch would be able to handle the new load and quantity.

She rushed towards you, worry evident in her eyes. Your white magic seemed to flare when she approached but she managed to grab your wrist and shake you slightly, hoping this would help you snap out of it.

When you opened your eyes, she could barely find the strength to stare into your pained and terrified gaze. She had never seen that look on you, and it worried her of what could have taken place while she was away from you.

When you finally calmed down, a deep breath left your lips, and you could finally answer her. "I... I am, " you replied as you stood up with her help.

She did not seem to truly believe you, but as the sound of a ticking clock reached you, you were reminded there was not a lot of time for small moments.

You moved back to the kitchen just in time to meet the others, seeing them almost all as terrified and shaken as you; with the exception of Teen, who had not drank the wine.

Wasting no time, you cleaned the bench of any unnecessary items and placed all the ingredients on the marble top. When Jen had seen her products, she parted her lips to argue but chose not to; and only instructed you to add the ingredients in the proper turn.

Then, another obstacle showed up.

"Any bright ideas on how to set this sink to boil?" Jen asked, since the warm water you had filled the sink with was mot enough.

Agatha looked at her. "You didn't think of this before?"

Jen held back the need to snap at the former dark witch. "In the middle of a traumatic hallucination? No, Agatha, I did not!"

She took a deep breath as she tried to ignore the sound of running water. Because if it wasn't enough the poison and the timer, the Road had chosen to flood everything outside.

And thanks to the crack Agatha made before, saltwater was entering and you all feared when the time was up; that crack would stop holding resistance.

Thankfully, Teen seemed to know of something.

"Is there a sous vide?" He asked, and Jen smiled, a passive congratulation in his quick thinking.

Agatha arched an eyebrow and looked at you and Lilia, the ones standing closer together.

"That's something people know about?" She asked, and you only shrugged your shoulders, as clueless as the others on the topic.

Potions were never your strong suit, and neither was cooking, pastry, or anything having to do with a kitchen. You were a descent gardener, but your talents, unfortunately, laid elsewhere.

"It's a super fancy cooking tool. It heats water to a specific temperature, so you can cook your meat evenly." Teen explained, coming back with a weird object in his hand.

The clock let ouf a louder ticking noise, a reminder that you were almost down to the last minutes.

Chapter 11

[heartstringsduet]

(ignore me accidentally unfollowing you while trying to send an ask)

for your prompts:

"Why are you following me?"

Hi Jen <3 Don't worry, I accidentally unfollow peeps too sometimes haha. We all do I think. Thanks for your prompt. I tried not to overthink it and it might be half-baked (not Ben&Jerry's ;)) but I hope you still like it. "Why are you following me"

His father might have been the one to tell him to trust his gut, but it was Tía Lucy who taught Carlos about the sixth sense. Her sixth sense told him when he had pulled out some of her herbs to chew on them when he was a toddler, his father’s seemed to be when Carlos got reprimanded at school and even later at work, his mother’s seemed to be knowing when he needed a hug even when he tried everything to appear like he didn’t.

Carlos’ sixth sense tingles as he rounds the corner of the candy aisle — and stops.

As expected, someone crashes right into his back. So he had been right about being followed. Sixth sense, gut, intuition. Whatever it was, it didn’t disappoint.

“Sorry!”

He’d only seen the stalker from the corner of his eyes, so to turn around and be faced with someone that walked right out of his dreams congeals Carlos momentarily.

What he didn’t expect to blurt out when he reinhabits his frozen body is, "Why are you following me?" 

It is true. This is the third aisle he’s felt the eyes on his back, the third aisle the stranger had stayed the exact same distance, the third aisle Carlos had had enough and tested his theory.

It’s one thing to think it, another to ask it straight out but Carlos stays cool. Even when he sees the slight flush of the man’s cheeks and the way he licks his lips and leaves a sheen. He stays totally cool. Unaffected and not lost in the slope of high cheekbones. 

“Uhm…I’m not?” the stalker says.

“I’m a cop, I know when I’m being followed.”

The stalker’s eyes widen — light green irises in full glory — before he quickly schools his face. “No you’re not.”

Carlos tilts his chin up. “Wanna see my badge?”

He gets a raised eyebrow and a smirk as a response that makes his stomach do a full loop. It hadn’t been an innuendo but the reaction makes his face feel hot.

The stalker’s tongue pokes into the corner of his mouth as he seems to think on what to say. “Okay.” He blows out a breath. “Okay. I followed you because you got the last Mexican Hot Chocolate ice cream and, frankly, I need it more. So if you don’t mind, could I buy it from you?”

Carlos frowns into his basket where he picked up both a tub of Cookies & Cream and apparently the reason someone followed him through the store for the past ten minutes.

A part of him doesn’t really care about the flavors, knowing the nephew he was planning to buy it for isn’t picky, but a bigger part prompts him to ask, “Who says I don’t need it the most?”

It seems to stump the other guy just like it stumped Carlos before. “Believe me, there is no way you do.”

“Unless I see concrete evidence for that need, I’m afraid I can’t give my tub up.”

It’s impressive how lowering his eyebrows makes the guy’s eyes look like a stormy sea, glistening as he blinks and suddenly Carlos gets washed into sadness with him. It’s there and it’s gone as the guy pushes past him.

“Nevermind.”

Carlos watches the rigid back retreating, the hands turn into fists and release. Before the man can forever stay a stranger, Carlos calls, “Wait!”

The guy turns.

Carlos jogs the few steps toward him, compelled to bridge the distance quicker. “It’s already pretty melty. Do you want to share it in the parking lot? I promise not to ask about your awful day again.”

He holds the guy’s stare again, like he will all night on the curb of the H-E-B, half a tub of ice cream long melted against he bamboo forks. A few years down the road, Carlos will think of that moment and realize his sixth sense hadn’t been about being followed. It had been a sign of his soulmate being close, giving his heart no chance to miss him.

[chiaraanatra]

Hurricane

Request: I was wondering if I could request a fic after Hurricane by Luke combs??? - Anon

Summary: Jake comes back to Texas for his sister's wedding where is greeted by an old flame and a new spark.

Warnings: swearing, kissing, wedding, you wear a purple bridesmaids dress, use of Y/N.

Word Count: 1.2k

AN: This took so much longer than it should have! I greatly apologize for the wait! I am not sure if this was what you were looking for Anon, but this really got me back in the writing sprit. I hope you enjoy!

As always feedback is always appreciated! Please don't repost my work!

《 m.list || ao3 》

Jake grabbed another cup of coffee as his phone rang. He pulled it out to see that it was a facetime call from his sister, Jen.

Oh, shit the dress…

He answered the call, greeted giggling and a black screen. “Hello?”

“Jess found the perfect dress!” his mother practically screamed into the phone.

Jake couldn’t help the smile on his face, excited for his youngest sister’s wedding.

“Jake, you will not believe how perfect it is,” Jen’s voice rang out.

“Well, are you going to show me or am I just gonna stare at a black screen?”

“Mom, give me the phone.” He was quickly met with the view of his sister in her white gown. It suited her style and personality perfectly.

“Okay what do you think? You see the dress, right?” the youngest Seresin gave a twirl.

“Yeah, I see, and you look beautiful, sis.”

Jess grabbed the phone from her sister’s hand and turned it so he could see her face. “You see how happy and excited I am.”

Jake gave her a slightly confused look “Yes… where are you going with this, Jess?”

“All this to say that I don’t want to freak you out but… I invited Y/N and she’ll be the second in my wedding party next to Jen. David wanted you to be the second groomsmen next to his brother and all of this is to say that you and Y/N would be paired when walking down the aisle. And I know you two have a past but she’s my best friend and it’s been years and- “

“Jessica!” Jake cut her off before she could spiral completely, overthinking every decision she's made to this point. “It’s okay. She’s your best friend. If she’s fine with it, I’m fine with it.” Jake gave her a smile that assured her that everything would be okay.

That conversation was months ago, and it was just hitting Jake now, as his plane was about to land in Austin that not only would he have to see you, but you would be partnered with him for his little sister’s wedding.

Before he knew it, he was standing in the wings of the chapel watching as David prepared to walk down the aisle to take his place. He had yet to see you, somehow avoiding it until the very last minute. He watched as the other bridesmaids and groomsmen made their way into the center and down the aisle before he was greeted with the sight of you. You were breath taking, hardly changing since the last time he saw you. The lilac dress hugged your curves and fit perfectly. A gentle wind from the open doors blew through your hair.

In a flash every memory he had ever shared with you came rushing back.

When you looked up to meet his gaze you could feel your cheeks become warm. He was just as handsome as you remember. You were met with his signature smile and couldn’t help but let your eyes linger over his body. His tailored suit emphasized his muscles, ones that had been their prior but had become more prominent during his time with the Navy.

You stepped towards one another and placed your arm through his before making your way to the front of the chapel.

He leaned his head ever so slightly towards you, “You look beautiful.”

“You don’t look so bad yourself, Lieutenant.”

Jake had to stifle a laugh at your comment.

Once at the altar, you removed your arm from his and he watched as you took your place.

Jake couldn’t take his eyes off you the entirety of the ceremony. You tried your best to pay attention and watch as your best friend married the love of her life, but you couldn’t help stealing quick glances and thinking back to the memories you shared with Jake. The man you thought at one point was the love of your life, and at times, like right now, still believed that might be true.

You always believed Jake Seresin was your 'one that got away.' The two of you had dated in high school before reluctantly and amicably breaking up after you got accepted into college and Jake got accepted into the Naval Academy.

After the wedding you found yourself walking around the reception before resting your eyes on Jake, who was sitting at the bar drinking a whiskey on ice. He looked up from his glass to be greeted with the sight of you.

Before you knew what was happening you found yourself taking the seat next to him and ordering your drink of choice.

The two of you found yourselves talking about everything, your work, the navy, the wedding. Neither of you could help it as the conversation turned to the two of you and how things used to be.

As the reception came to a close and people began to part ways, Jake turned to you. “Need a ride home?”

You took barley a moment to think about the offer, “yeah… that would be great. Thank you.”

After saying your goodbyes, the two of you made your way towards his truck. He opened the door and offered you his hand to help you steady yourself. Once you were seated, he gathered any remanence of your dress and placed it beside you before closing the door and making his way to the driver’s side.

The 30-minute drive back to your house was spent in silence except for the soft sounds coming from the radio.

Then you rolled in with your hair in the wind

Baby, without warning…

Halfway through the drive, it had started to gently rain. But, right as he pulled into your gravel driveway it began to pour.

Just as you were about to put your hand on the door, Jake placed his hand gently on your shoulder. “Put this on.” He handed you his suit jacket before running out and making his way to the passenger side door. You quickly put his jacket on before he opened the door.

“Jake what are you doing?” He smiled helping you down from the truck before scooping you up into his arms carrying you up the driveway and onto the porch. “You idiot, you’re soaked!”

He gently set you down, “I couldn’t have you running up your gravel driveway in heels in the rain.” He gently removed a soaked strand of hair off your cheek. “Knowing you, you would have fallen flat on your face.” His hand lingered on your soft skin that was bringing back a flood of memories.

You stared into his eyes; they held a sense of longing. Before you knew it your arms were wrapped around his neck and your lips were on his. His lips were warm and soft, bringing you a sense of familiarity you had thought to be long forgotten.

He was the first to pull away ever so slightly, resting his forehead against yours, “I missed you… I thought I was okay but seeing you today… Y/N you hit me like a hurricane. I have never stopped loving you and I never want to let you go again.”

You pulled him in closer, arms wrapping around him, resting your head against his chest, “Then don’t.”

“But I have to go back to base and-”

Before he could spiral, you kissed him again, then every so slightly pulled away to look him in the eyes, “did you mean it when you said you never stopped loving me?”

His eyes said it before the words came from his lips, “With everything I have.”

“Then we’ll figure it out.”

Tags: @callsign-viper @luckyladycreator2 @saturnsbabe69 @desert-fern

As always, feedback, likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!𝑊𝑎𝑛𝑛𝑎 𝑏𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑔𝑒𝑑? 𝐿𝑒𝑡 𝑚𝑒 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑤 ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 💜!

[hannahssimblr]

It’s just us and the man picking up rubbish here, on the grass by the small stage where I met Weed Alison. I don’t tell Evie I’ve been here before, because telling her the story requires so much explanation, and will lead me back down a winding path that ends with me bickering with Jen before the Foo Fighters gig. I wish I could erase almost every moment between the last time I sat here and this one. It’s been a day and a half fraught with poor decisions and even worse behaviour. 

I still hear the rave tent thudding, but it is so distant now, mostly replaced by the wind shaking the leaves above us. 

“I like it when it’s quiet like this,” Evie whispers. “I feel like I’ve forgotten what quiet is.”

“Right. It can be hard going, a festival. It takes a lot out of you. I hope that you’re having a good time, like, I hope it isn’t overwhelming, despite that… thing at the rave.”

“I’m having a good time,” she says, adding hastily, “today was honestly a little weird, but the festival has had its moments.”

“Yeah, today was a bit weird for me too,” I hesitate, as my excuses catch in my throat. “I’ve… had a lot on my mind, I think.”

“Do you get like that a lot?”

I huff out a laugh. “What? Like, have stuff on my mind? Don’t you?”

“Well, yeah.”

“Then same.”

Her eyes do a quick tour of me. “Jen said you’re a scorpio, and that’s why you’re moody.”

“Oh yeah? What else does she say whenever you two are apparently gossiping about me?”

“Rich of you to assume we talk about you at all.”

“Do you?” 

She shifts self-consciously, but her eyes remain playful. “Well, do you talk to her about me?”

“Yes.” Obviously. 

“Oh. What do you talk about?”

I smirk. “None of your business.”

“Well then,” she says, “I’m not telling you either.”

“Bet I already know.”

“You think?”

“I bet she tells you I’m secretly a boring, moody dickhead under all the facade or something, doesn’t she?”

“She didn’t say ‘boring’. You’re not boring.”

“But she did say ‘moody’.”

“‘Sour’, I think, is the word she used. Which, like, I never thought of you like that. You always seem happy to me. Well, mostly.”

“Maybe because when I’m having a particularly sour day, I just stay in my room.”

“Hm. And you couldn’t stay in your room today.”

My stomach sinks. “No. I couldn’t. Sorry, I didn’t think it was, like… that obvious.”

“I thought it was.”

Again, the words I want to say seem to get trapped. Why is so hard to express myself? Why is it I have such limited understanding of my own feelings? I want to express regret, to tell her I’m sorry if I hurt her by avoiding her, but I feel like I keep opening my mouth and uttering nothing.

“Sometimes thing pile up,” I manage. “I overthink. And… and maybe I’ve been overthinking too much this summer.”

Oh, great, yeah. Good job. That’s perfect.

“Are you overthinking what happened last night?”

“Yeah, maybe.” There I go again, picking at the grass. The bits that I pull from the soil are so dry that they’re like straw, and I take my time examining them while Evie sits and waits for me to say something with any kind of substance at all. She probably wants to hear all about how I don’t regret kissing her, and if I had any sense, I would say just that, but I can’t lie to her face. It’s not who I am, so I just pick at the ground. 

“Hey,” she says. “I know I’m a bit younger than you, and I’m sorry if that freaks you out, but we’re really not that different when you think about it. Like, yeah, for sure, I have a good bit less experience than you, but-”

“It’s not that,” I say. “That’s not what I’m overthinking about. It isn’t you, or your age, or your experience.”

“What is it then?”

Christ, what is wrong with me? I can’t even look at her. With the shrug of one shoulder, I say, “I don’t think it’s a good thing for you to like me like that. I don’t really want you to.”

“It’s hard not to,” she says.

“I didn’t mean for it to happen.”

“How could I not, Jude? It’s you.”

I frown. “Mm.”

“Can you just look at me for a second?”

So I do, and her face is determined, her eyes steady, before they drop to my cheeks, my nose, my mouth where they linger. 

Oh, she’s going to kiss me.

I know it seconds before she plucks up the courage, which gives me ample time to stop it, but I don’t. I don't want to. She leans in, and I let her.

She goes in carefully, with her hand on my neck, and her head tilts to the side before she dots one little kiss on my lips. Two. As though experimenting, she turns the other way, three, four… 

I slide my hands around her waist and kiss her back.

Other kisses don’t make me feel the way I felt last night, as though she’s thrown a match on me and set my body alight, so I can justify doing it again by deciding I am too weak to resist it, that they day is long and that I deserve to surrender to something good.

Moving my hands to cradle her head, I glide my tongue along her bottom lip and she opens her mouth to me, soft and hot and slow, as my thumbs stroke her cheeks. I bite her bottom lip, and her top, as into my mouth, she moans against my gentle onslaught. The moment she makes that sound, I’m gone. 

I kiss her cheeks, then her nose, and angle her head so that I can kiss her neck, where she smells like sweet perfume, and against her skin I whisper, “fucking hell, Evie.”

Her voice vibrates under my lips as I trail hot, hungry kisses along her throat. “If you want to go back to my tent, we can.”

Yes, I think. The tent. It would make sense to be in there. She lifts my face to hers.

“I can get Claire to sleep in with Shane. We can have it to ourselves.”

I fall back to my body the second we mesh gazes, crashing down, along with the common sense, the guilt and the shame I shed as I kissed her. In a second I have released her and carved distance between us again. “Evie, no,” I say firmly. Tomorrow, I will be impressed by my self-restraint under challenging circumstances. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“It’s okay, I want to.” She has so little conviction that I can’t help but laugh. She screws up her face. “What’s funny?”

“Evie, it doesn’t really matter if you want to. I don’t want to.”

“You don’t want to… do it. With me?”

“No. Is that okay?”

She blinks, eyes a bit wild, and I swear I can pinpoint the moment when her brain jumps to her conclusion. “Is there something wrong with me?” It’s barely a question. Somewhere between that and a statement of the obvious, a confirmation of something she already believes. 

“No. Of course there isn’t. I’ve just been thinking about it, and I don’t think it’s the right thing to do. Look, I got carried away last night, and I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong idea. I was… a bit drunk, to be honest.”

“You’re not going to break me,” she persists, “if that’s what you’re thinking. I don’t mind. I have to do it eventually, and I’d rather if it was with you.”

“No, you wouldn’t. Not really.”

“I would.”

“It would make things complicated.”

“Jude, I know you don’t want me to like you, but I already do. Honestly, I’ve never really felt this way about anybody else. It’s different with you. I don’t care about any other boys, this is why I couldn’t be with Liam-”

“God, Evie, please.” I put my head in my hands. What she does she want from me? What does she expect? She knows as much as I do that there’s no chance for something to work between us, not when I’m going away in two weeks. Can’t we just have left it all unsaid? “Please don’t make this harder on me.”

And to my utter horror, my face heats, and my eyes prickle with tears. I am about to cry. In front of Evie Kilbride. I think I’d rather be dead than do this, but here I am, with nowhere to hide. 

She rests her hand on my shoulder. “It’s okay. It’s just that… like, um, I heard you were thinking of staying in Ireland, and that when you get your college offers next week, you might decide to do a course in Dublin, and I just thought-”

What? My head snaps up. “Evie, what are you talking about?” 

“Jen said-”

“I told you I was leaving. As soon as I met you, I told you I was leaving.”

“But Jen-”

“What about Jen?”

Evie shrinks away. “She said that you might stay. That she thought you might decide not to go to Berlin, because you didn’t seem that excited about it.”

The blood roils. “I don’t know why the fuck she would have said that to you.”

“You not staying?”

“No!”

“But…” her mouth opens, then shuts again. The air thickens between us. “But Jen told me.” She insists, one more time, like it's true as long as she continues to say it. 

“Whatever she said to you is a lie, Evie. I’m sorry. She shouldn’t have told you anything about me. I know it’s unfair…”

“But maybe if things… If I… maybe you’ll still decide to stay.”

I swear I can see that last glimmer of hope in her eyes, and it kills me to squash it, but it’s honest, and it’s right. “I won’t.” I make sure she is looking right into my eyes as I say it. “I am moving to Berlin in two weeks. It’s done. It’s happening. I don’t know why she- I can’t believe that’s what she said. That’s insane.”

“You’re really going? It’s confirmed?” As her voice cracks and she fills up with tears. I have a moment where I wish I was blind, just so that I wouldn’t have to watch her cry. 

“Yes, I’m really going. I was always going to go.” I pull her to my chest, and there, in the circle of my arms, she breaks into shoulder-shaking sobs, while all I can think to do is smooth my hand over her back and press my cheek against her hair. Her hands fist in my t-shirt, face boiling. “Oh, come on Evie, please don’t cry. I’m sorry that you ever thought otherwise. I tried to make it as clear as I could. I didn’t think that Jen was telling you that stuff.”

“I don’t want you to go.”

“I know, I know.” I wrestle back my surging emotion with a hard swallow. “Well, maybe it won’t work out, hm? And I’ll come back after a while.”

For some reason, this makes her cry harder. 

“Shh, shh, come on.” I whisper. She turns her head and leaves a stamp of black makeup on the cotton of my t-shirt. “God, sorry,” she blubs, mopping at it ineffectually. “I’m a mess.”

“I don’t care about the t-shirt. It’s fine, it’s just a bit of makeup.” I hook the strand of hair stuck to her cheek behind her ear. “I’m sorry. I thought I was doing a good enough job of staying neutral, keeping my distance. I really never meant for you to have feelings for me.”

“Of course I do,” she sniffles. “You’re the best person in the world. You couldn’t have stopped me from liking you.”

“I probably shouldn’t have kissed you yesterday, should I? It didn’t help.”

And she sits up out of my arms and wipes the grey streaks of wet makeup. “Do you wish you didn’t?”

“It was really selfish. I was only thinking about how badly I wanted to, the way you looked under those lights. You’re so pretty when you’re smiling. I wasn’t thinking about whether it was fair to you to do it.”

Her laugh is watery. “You think I’m pretty?”

Beginning // Prev // Next

Corresponding LG Chapter