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btsbabe7 · 4 months

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Rain Does Not Fall on One Roof Alone

Word Count: 4k

Pairing: Ominis Gaunt x reader, Sebastian Sallow x reader

Warnings!: 18+, unprotected sex, death of a friend

Synopsis: After the death of a mutual friend, you and Ominis try to find a way to navigate life together in the aftermath.

Miniature droplets fall from their rightful place in the sky, meeting each other on the glass pane that separates you from the outside world. When they’ve gathered enough, they form together as one and trail long, squiggly lines down the length of your bedroom window. The piano downstairs hums a sad tune, perfect for accompanying the gloomy overcast of spring and the tears gathering in your eye ducts. On days like this, you can’t help but think about it all—your final battle with Ranrok, the loss of your dearest teacher, Professor Fig, and in his own stubbornness, your best friend, Sebastian Sallow.

In the months following the battle with Ranrok, Ominis remained by your side. He had been there before the battle, and now, he remained glued to you. He knew you’d fall apart on your own. Your muggle mother didn’t know Sebastian and your father had departed from your life at the age of eight.

You have no one else.

Your mother doesn’t know Ominis either, nor does she know that he apparates into your bedroom most days and nights. He simply lies beside you, cuddles against your trembling body, and wipes away tears that spawn from your nightmares of watching Sebastian being taken from your life in the worst way possible by Ranrok.

In your dreams, you warn Sebastian not to come, that even your ancient magic and practice may be no match for Ranrok’s power. You were never sure you could save him and the school. And each time, he doesn’t listen. He still stumbles into the final repository against your advice, thinking he can help. Each time his life is taken before you can react. Each time you let out an excruciating wail, flinging defensive spell after defensive spell in hopes of reaching his body in time. You want to reach him with just enough time to tell him how idiotic he is for trying to save you, to tell him that his stubbornness will bring you everlasting, excruciating pain, and lastly, to tell him that you’ve loved him from the start.

And each time, there’s never enough time.

There wasn’t enough time.

Some days you wish you’d turned him in for his uncle’s death because surely it’d be easier to see him behind the grim bars of Azkaban than to never see him again at all. You should’ve hugged him after it all. He was so scared, so shocked at what he’d done and of Anne’s reaction to it that he couldn’t process the repercussions. Ominis had known the moment you two both apparated back into the concealment of The Undercroft. He hadn’t given you much time to process it all, to help Sebastian get through it all. Ultimately, you decided that you couldn’t imagine a life where you’d have to travel to that dreadful prison to visit your best friend. He was far too young to be there, too young to have it eat him alive all alone, too young to have his life ripped away. Ominis simply agreed, though you know he only agreed because it was you making the final decision.

Ominis shuffles under the blankets beside you, bringing your attention back to present. His thick brows scrunch and fall flat, his eyelids twitch and his natural pink lips pull into a sheepish, childlike smile.

“Sebastian?” He chuckles innocently, softly in the safety of his dreams and your childhood bedroom.

Your lips quiver, nose scrunching against the burning sensation that overtakes it. It crinkles against the crocodile tears in your eyes and the loud sob that jolts Ominis from the peace of his dream.

“Y/n?” Ominis calls, his voice deep with sleepiness.

“I’m sorry for waking you. I… I—“

“Come here,” he whispers and pulls you down into his arms.

In the safeness of his arms, he pulls the blanket over your body and nestles you against his chest. You can feel the tears collecting against the softness of his t-shirt under your cheek, the feeling of his hand stroking soft passes over your curls, his voice telling you it’s okay to feel this way and that he’ll never leave your side until you tell him to.

“I can’t stop thinking about how it happened. How he was so stubborn until the end. How I had to witness it. How it still haunts me in my dreams, my nightmares…”

Ominis doesn’t say anything, but his pearlescent eyes stare straight ahead at your ceiling. You can feel his heartbeat begin to slow underneath you.

Shallow and deep.

Heartbroken.

A tear slips from the corner of his eye and disappears into the strands of his of his blonde hair.

“Try to remember him as he was during his best times. Perhaps in The Undercroft or in class. Battling together in Crossed Wands. Or when I’d met him and Anne when we were just children. Things would be so different had we not met you at all.”

You feel queasy. You’d never stopped blaming yourself for his death, but you didn’t know Ominis thought that way too.

“But had we not met you, Anne wouldn’t be cured,” he continues. “Sebastian would’ve driven himself looney searching for a cure. He wouldn’t want you to be sad. He’d want you to find happiness and be surrounded by friends and people who care for you.”

You hate that you’d rather have a cursed Anne over a dead Sebastian and for your own selfish reasons nonetheless. You hate that you’d rather search the entire Earth to find a cure with Sebastian going insane than to face the immense suffering of losing him forever.

“You’re my only friend, Ominis. The others don’t understand, they weren’t there. And what could they say besides, ‘sorry?’”

“We both lost him. Anne lost him too. And we’ve been sulking for a year now. Perhaps we should pay a visit?”

Your heart stops, stuck and frozen in time.

You both hadn’t been to the burial site since it all happened. Professor Weasley had commended Professor Fig and Sebastian on their ‘unmatched bravery and commitment’ to the school, and to you. You blamed yourself for it all, always. For the ancient magic you possess, for not saying no to Professor Fig when he accompanied you to your final battle, for not telling Sebastian how you felt earlier, and for not admitting that you wanted nothing more than to be wrapped in his arms at the end of it all.

A soft gasp slips from your lips and you hold Ominis tightly, letting out the lingering sobs the very moment you catch your breath again.

About an hour later, you find yourself walking down endless rows of gravestones. The warmth of Ominis’ soft hand in yours keeps you centered as a red light flashes at the tip of his wand—a beacon of sorts, which he used to navigate the corridors of Hogwarts, and now, the distantly familiar cemetery. Luckily, his wand remembers the way because in your own grief you’d both be lost for hours.

Ominis had asked you to help him into something nice, even asked you to tie his emerald tie to keep your mind off other things. Despite the set destination, he looked charming. His blonde hair combed back neatly and a teasing smile on his face as you sighed in frustration over the tie instead of in sorrow.

“This damned tie,” you’d muttered. “Don’t they have a spell to tie these things?”

“I’m sure you could find one in your rather extensive book collection.”

You’d scoffed at the sudden knowledge of him snooping through your room when you do finally fall asleep.

“Surely you’ll help me find one on it then?” you sighed, thinking back to the time you’d first passed Ominis and Sebastian at the start of your fifth year.

Natsai had been giving you a tour when you’d spotted the duo at the base of the Defense Against the Dark Arts Tower. Sebastian had been chomping on the crispiest, crimson apple you’d ever laid eyes upon and Ominis toyed with an upside down book in his hands. You hadn’t known he was blind at the time, but it was an ongoing joke between the pair that you’d later be let in on.

“I will give it my best,” Ominis had laughed, putting an emphasis on eye-will like Sebastian would have.

You’d laughed for the first time in a year.

“Should be about here,” Ominis mutters, once again drawing your attention back to your current reality.

You stop short, your feet and heart weighing heavily on the wet grass beneath you. The soil underneath feels bouncy like walking on a trampoline. Something you were able to enjoy before you knew you possessed the power of magic, before you’d been sent away to learn how to control it. You hate to see him like this, something you can’t control—Sebastian tucked away neatly in the best coffin you and Ominis could afford, six feet under the Earth you both still tread on daily. You’d give anything to hear his laugh again, another sarcastic quip, to smell the embers of a lingering Confringo on his emerald, embroidered school robe when you’d follow him out of The Undercroft in the early mornings.

Tears flood your eyes again and deep grey clouds swim above your head, daring to squeeze out more heavy droplets. Daring to overtake you completely. But Ominis finds his way back to your side, immediately taking your hand in his again and slowly inching you closer.

He’d only stepped away for seconds.

“It’s alright, Y/n,” he whispers the moment the grave comes into view.

You have a clear view, the clearest ever. Just feet away, the headstone reads, Sebastian Sallow with a cursive epitaph engraved underneath that’s already begun to wither away from the constant rain, the general erosion of rock.

You want to cry.

You want to scream.

You want to curse Ranrok for taking the one person you loved the most away from you. Away from Ominis, and even Anne, who you know would have forgiven him with time had she not been denied the chance.

You all had been denied the chance.

And though you want to cry, nothing comes out. As if all your tears have run dry over a year of endlessly sorrow.

Ominis was right. Sebastian wouldn’t want you to be sad. He’d be happy that Ominis took you in, that you two still had each other in a world where people can become distant. He’d hate the idea of Ominis sleeping in your bed at night. Had he still been here and that was the case, he’d go on a jealous rant about how it should be him instead. You’d both laugh about it, then you’d invite both him and Ominis over for cuddles.

It should be him, but it’s not. And perhaps that means something too.

You lean onto Ominis’ right shoulder and he holds you tightly, resting his cheek against the crown of your head with a breathy sigh. You recognize it as an attempt to hold back the tears he only lets out at night, long after he thinks you’re asleep. Sometimes you pretend to be, knowing he’d say it’s nothing had he known you were actually awake. In those times, you scoot in closer and hug him a bit tighter.

You do the same now as an attempt to calm Ominis and to look away from the grave. You can’t bear the sight. You never could.

“Ominis,” you breathe, now looking over his shoulder at a plethora of unnamed graves.

There’s a chill here, but also a newfound sense of peace. These people are no longer in pain, no longer fighting the struggles of love and loss and life.

They are truly resting.

Sebastian is resting.

Sebastian is finally resting in peace.

You can feel it in the air. In the way a warm breeze sweeps over you, pulling you closer to Ominis. It whispers to you that it’s finally okay to move on, to accept that though Sebastian had been your first love, a love you only got to experience shortly, there’s much more love to be discovered.

You rub your palm over Ominis’ right shoulder, breathing in softly the moment you both gaze at each other. He looks perfect—tie still tied skillfully, his blonde hair remaining neat, and his tears have dried as if in the same moment you both had the same realization.

“Y/n…” he starts wearily, hesitantly.

You hum in response and caress the side of his face.

“I—“

“I know, Ominis,” you finally breathe, nuzzling into him.

His brows fall in relief and in realization. A gentle smile pulls at the corners of his lips, one you haven’t seen except in glimpses throughout the year. In all the time Sebastian had been gone, Ominis had been there, even before. He’s never left your side and he never would. And you find nothing but comfort in his presence, something you’ve long craved, even before Sebastian.

“I crave you,” he says and takes a deep breath before pulling you in. “But I know I’m not him.”

You caress his other cheek, wiping his falling tears away with your thumbs before leaning in closer. His lips are right there—damp, pink and glistening even in the overcast.

“I don’t need you to be him. Just keep being Ominis.”

He chuckles nervously, “ I don’t think I could be anyone else.”

You nod softly, tears in both your eyes as he caresses the sides of your face and leans in the rest of the way.

It takes your brain seconds to realize you’re actually kissing Ominis because it simply feels like a dream, a distant one you’ve had before. Like déjà vu. But once you both deepen the kiss, you know it’s real, and it feels so right.

“We should go,” you whisper against him.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

Ominis presses back into you and you both drop your hands into each others. Within an instant, you’ve been apparated into your room, but you don’t need to pull away from Ominis’ lips to know. It’s the smell of blueberry pie slipping under the crack of your locked door and the familiarity of the mattress underneath your bodies.

You untie his tie effortlessly, then tug at the small buttons of his shirt until they come undone. You slip back from his lips, running a hand down his bare chest between you two as he sits up to kiss into your jawline. He untucks the hem of your shirt and plants his hands firmly against the bare flesh of your waist. You drop your hips completely with the overwhelming urgency to feel friction clouding your thoughts. Ominis mews softly underneath you, allowing his hands to travel further down until they’re planted firmly on your ass to guide your rocking hips back and forth. He’s never touched you this way, but it feels as if he has so many times. As if he should be more often.

He lies back as you reach for his belt and grins towards the ceiling sheepishly. You can’t get the view of him spawn out like this out of your mind, and like fuel to a fire, you both undress each other impatiently. Then, Ominis’ hands pine into your doughy flesh, caressing and rubbing all the right places as you grind against him. Part of you can’t believe the feeling of him hard against you. The other part that believes is starved for him, yearning to feel his length inside of you.

A perfect storm.

As Ominis works his briefs downward, your head begins to spin at the thought of having sex and you find yourself blurting the words before your mind can fully wrap around the thought.

“I’ve never had sex before.”

Ominis stops short, his reddened cock springing from the thin fabric simultaneously.

“Neither have I.”

You aren’t sure why you sigh in relief, but that’s how it feels when Ominis pulls you closer and takes your lips against his. He caresses the side of your neck with one hand, and with the other, he slowly glides the tip of his erection up and down your length until you both feel your petals unfold for him. A moan spills into his mouth as you take in the pleasure and mentally prepare for the pain you know is to come. But Ominis goes slowly, working the tip back and forth until you’re moaning and wet enough for his liking.

“Are you alright?” He hums against your parted lips.

“Mhm. I think I’m ready.”

He pulls you closer once more, until your bare breasts are pressed firmly against the flatness of his chest. And as he begins to press through your tightness, you bury your mouth into the crook of his neck. You feel the pressure first when he slips the head inside, his length following little by little. He lets out a soft breath at the feeling. In and back out, then in a bit further. It feels foreign, both painful and pleasantly pleasurable. And once you’re sure it’s in, he grips your hips and guides them flush to his groin.

You let out a helpless yelp. Clearly he wasn’t completely inside, but he is now.

“Still alright?”

“Mhm.” That’s all you can manage with your walls clenching around the girth stuffed inside you.

You sit up slowly, just enough to keep him stuffed inside as you do. With both legs on either side of him, you bring your palms to either side of the pillow beneath his head and begin rolling your hips back and forth. A deep groan escapes his parted lips and he keeps his hands on your hips as you ride him the only way you know how. His eyes are squeezed shut and his bottom lip is tucked between his teeth. And as much as he seems to be in heaven, he also looks as if he’s trying to concentrate on something. You don’t bother asking what, instead you come up a bit, close your eyes too and toss your head back towards the ceiling. You let all the pleasure and pulsating and your empty mind overtake you entirely.

After a minute or so, your body flushes hot and you perk up quickly. Ominis’ heavy breathing has turned into frantic pants. His grip on your hips had loosened to explore your body—your taut breasts, the hardness of your protruding nipples, the softness of your belly, the goosebumps that prickled against your arms and thighs at the bursts of sheer pleasure, but now they were tight on your hips again, almost cutting skin.

“Y-Y/n,” Ominis sputters shakily. “Think I’m going t—“

“Omi,” you interrupt in a sharp, sudden pant. You feel the very heat that’d started in your chest creep into the depths of your core. You tried to hold it back, tried to keep it at bay, but much like a tidal wave, it reappears and dares to wash over you. “Ominis!”

You mewl deeply.

You aren’t sure if he sensed it first, the tightening of your walls around him, but his nose and lips twitch violently at the feeling. He pulls you down suddenly and crashes his lips against yours wildly. His tongue presses into your mouth and you let out a loud moan against it. Trembling, you grip his bicep with your left hand and falter down to your right elbow. Your thighs shake as the violent wave overtakes you and leaves your tightening and shaking against his faltering thrusts.

Ominis’ name almost rolls off your tongue again, but with a violent hiss, he slips out of you immediately. You feel warm, sticky spurts against your thighs and lie down against his damp body. His heart is practically leaping out of his chest, the erratic beat thumping pummels against your right ear and his breathy pants fill your left.

You trace your fingertip over his left nipple and he shutters slightly, letting out a choked chuckle.

“I didn’t think I’d be able to stop,” he mutters once his heaving chest falters a bit. “You feel amazing inside.”

“Om…” you groan nervously, heat rising to your cheeks at the thought.

“I’m sorry,” he mutters softly and begins stroking your curls.

Silence falls over the room, aside from the pitter-pattering of the rain picking up on your windowpane again. You swear you hear thunder in the distance, but maybe it’s just the sound of your own heart.

“Sebastian should have been your first,” Ominis whispers out of nowhere. Your head shoots up and you give him a warning glance, and though you know he can’t see it, he must sense it. “I mean to say, he was in love with you. He’d told me once… one night after we’d snuck out of The Undercroft back to our dorms. ‘I think I’m in love with her,’ were his exact words. I can’t hold onto them anymore.”

You fight back the tears you feel forming in the ducts of your eyes and the heaviness of your weak legs.

Why would he tell you this now?

You pull your emotions together and lie against him again.

You think of Ominis.

You think of Sebastian.

You think of yourself.

“I believe you were meant to be my first,” you hum softly and trace the length of his collarbone. “With Sebastian, it would’ve been rushed, rough even. I’m happy that my first time was soft, gentle, and with someone who cares about me. Someone I love.”

Ominis’ heart skips a beat and his cheeks grow warm against your scalp.

“Perhaps it’s also time I admit that I’m in love with you.” He states it so softly that you’re sure you misheard. So, you prop yourself up to be sure.

“You’re in love with me?”

He takes in a deep breath to steady his heartbeat that’s begun to pummel in his chest again.

“I have for a long time, Y/n. From the start, though for Sebastian’s sake, I had to conceal it. I had no choice, he was my best friend.”

“We all have a choice,” you reply. “I wish I’d known sooner.”

“No,” he sighs. “It’s happened this way for a reason and it was meant to be this way. Not a second sooner.”

You take in what he says and analyze it. Had Sebastian been here, he’d fight Ominis to the death for your heart, that’s just the kind of person he was. Ultimately, it’d probably cost them their friendship or cost them yours. As for yourself, you know you wouldn’t have been able to choose between your very first love, one who’d kept you on your toes, and the boy who’d been there for you since the start, the one whose shoulder you knew you could cry on no matter how bad things got.

Ominis is right.

He’s always been right.

You cant bring yourself to say anything more and you’re sure Ominis is racking his own brain, thinking he’s chosen the wrong time to admit his love for you.

You kiss his cheek and pull your quilt up after draping your leg over him. You listen to his audible sigh of relief as you stroke your thumb against his jawline. You place a kiss there too until he gets the hint to bring his lips closer. Once he does, you caress the side of his face and press into him eagerly. And when he pulls away, you let out in a soft breath, “I love you so much, Omi.”

He straightens his head, resting it on the open palm of his right hand. His eyes are closed to the ceiling and his nose twitches softly. Your eyes follow the silent tear that slips down his face.

He smirks softly, then whispers, “I love you more than you’ll ever know. And thank you for being here through my worst times.”

With a soft smile, you both cuddle into each other. And for once, in over a year, you both fall into a deep sleep, full of nothing but happiness, with not a single tear in sight.

Please be sure to check out my other latest fics:

⚡︎ Perfect Storm (m.) - Ominis Gaunt x reader

⚡︎ Untitled (m.) - Sebastian Sallow x Ominis Gaunt x reader

⚡︎ Coffee (Love You a Latte) - Sebastian Sallow x reader

⚡︎ Golden - Sebastian Sallow x reader

⚡︎ For You Always (m.) - Severus Snape x reader

⚡︎ HP: November Prompt Challenge (days 1-30)

~ Navi: masterlist (all fandoms)

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction, but please don’t copy! Written purely for fun :) Please only repost to other socials w/my permission and credit! Reblogging w/credit is fine. Thank you! ♡

May 2024

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vivalabunbun · 2 years

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Midnight Piano Interlude in D Minor, Op. 1

Summary: Growing pains don’t go away the moment you reach adulthood, instead it goes by a different name: Regret.

Word Count: 17.9k ( I have a problem, no I cannot fix it)

Tags: Alhaitham x Fem!Reader, Pianist!Reader, Aspiring musician!Reader, Slow burn, Slow fic (look at the word count), Heavy Angst, Smut(r18+), NSFW, MDNI, Modern AU, Childhood Friends AU, Childhood friends to lovers, friends with benefits to lovers, a lot of memories from the past, Fluff, Second chance romance, TW: Character death (Alhaitham’s grandma), TW: Themes about regret and low self-confidence, Heavy adult themes, gifted kid burn-out, toxic family, unhappy childhood, unhealthy relationship dynamics, unhealthy coping mechanisms, Service top! Alhaitham, mutual pining? kinda, unrequited love? sorta, slightly obsessive!Alhaitham, Soft!Alhaitham, Alhaitham is not faultless his current views have been formed through trial and painful error.

Authors Note: This is very experimental. I almost didn’t want to post it, but I just believe even the most stoic person isn’t without their past mistakes and regrets. Alhaitham doesn’t understand most forms of art... but he does value music. Enjoy.

There was something off about this stanza, but you just couldn’t put your finger on it. A cup of now room-temperature coffee was on your dining table, next to the sheets of music you were currently editing. Tapping the end of the pencil on your lip as you shut your eyelids. You played the notes on the paper in your head.

It was an early Saturday afternoon, so you still had plenty of time before you had to go to your gig. It was a ritual on Saturdays that you would edit and write your compositions. A peaceful way to transition out of your lowly officer worker identity, and into the pianist you were. The thought of spreadsheets would be slowly replaced by lines of musical notes.

At this moment there were no emails to be answered. No shallow dry small talk from nosy cubical neighbors. No long meetings in uncomfortable chairs about irrelevant projects.

Just the low hum of your refrigerator accompanying your experimental melodies. It was your time to embrace your aspirations that were contained to only two days every week, but it was worth all forty-eight hours.

The fingers on your free hand tapped against the chipped lacquer table, envisioning the keys of your keyboard currently stationed in the crowded living room. Your fingers stilled as your eyes fluttered open. You found the error, crossing out the D major scale and changing it to D minor instead. Yes, D minor fits the somber tone of this piece much better.

Excitement bubbled up inside you, that small tweak had finally solved that bothersome feeling that had been vexing you the whole week. Oh, you felt it, you were in the zone now, inspiration and motivation were just flowing undisrupted through you. Quickly gathering up the sheet music, you sauntered to your keyboard, sitting down on the cheap pull-out bench.

There was no reason to worry about a noise complaint when it was in the middle of the day, but to follow social etiquette you made sure to lower the volume on the keyboard to just barely above mute. It was time to put everything together, you put your hands into position eager to press down on the smooth keys to finally hear the composition you had worked so hard on-

“Be careful with that! My unfinished models are in that box! Don’t just slam it down!” A voice boomed from the hall outside your door.

The sudden disturbance cut off the flow within you, fingers hovering over the keys. Of course, asking for peace and quiet in this dust heap apartment complex was a luxury the residents couldn’t afford. You inhaled deeply as you straighten your back.

It’s fine, it sounds as if a new neighbor is just moving in. You were used to this, just continue forward.

“Oi! Could you not just dump everything into the entranceway? How am I supposed to get through?!” You could hear the shuffling of boxes.

“Most people would be grateful for the help. Especially, when the help-seeker is someone who has yet to pay five months' worth of rent.” A box was dropped onto the floor.

“I just told you to be careful! It’s fragile! And I was busy saving up to move, I’m sure me moving out is well worth the rent money.”

“Brilliant rebuttal. Is this the same explanation you give the bank when they call inquiring about your debt, Kaveh?”

“And this is why I cannot stand people like you!-”

Your fingers were pressing down with force on the keys, yet you couldn’t hear any melody over the theatrical bickering taking place in the hall. The inside of your cheek is currently being abused by the grating of your teeth. It appears that social etiquette is dead, killed by narrow-minded individual interests.

The two voices continued to bounce off the wall, more accurately it was mostly one thunderous voice followed by a deep tone dripping with sarcasm. Your ears weren’t even processing the words being thrown around, their focus all on the impending tinnitus developing.

You needed to bring a stop to this now, lest it develops into a regular performance. Your thighs pushed back the flimsy seat, lips deep in a frown. The flow was ruined.

Unlocking the deadbolt that detained the door, you looked straight ahead as the rusting hinges sang their chaos, ready to bring a stop to this public disturbance.

“Can you please keep your voices d-” Your sentence died at the tip of your tongue.

The sight in front of you stopped you dead between your doorway. The blond-haired man’s head snapped towards you, eyes slightly apologetic. However, his face wasn’t what you had set your sights on, no, it was the familiar face of the ashen-haired man. A face you haven’t seen for seven years, Alhaitham.

Those same disinterested teal eyes shifted their focus onto you, and it paralyzed every muscle.

The silence was deafening now, not a single inch was budged by anyone. Like a frozen snapshot in time. His gaze was heavy, it was suffocating so your eyes switched over to meet with rudy irises instead.

The blond man’s attention flickered back and forth between the two of you, taking note of how his companion’s eyes never left your frame. His lips pressed into an awkward line as his head slowly turned towards the boxes behind him, finally reading the room.

“I’m going to start tidying up.” The blond didn’t perceive the desperation sent his way by you as his figure disappeared behind a closed door.

Now it was just you and Alhaitham. Finally reunited after seven long years apart in a decrepit hallway. The gurgling of the aging pipes and shuffling of feet from floors above accompanied the scene. Your body was still frozen in the midst of emerging from your apartment, and his tall figure was still stationed right across the narrow hall.

What were the last words you said to him that day many years ago again?

“I hate you, Alhaitham. I hate you for ruining my life.”

A hand hidden behind your back clenched into a fist as you recalled that embarrassing memory. Sharp words directed toward a younger version of the man in front of you. Words birthed from irrationality and wounded pride.

Now your brain had once again latched on to this core memory, you were certainly going to be kicking your blankets tonight. What a mortifying souvenir of the past.

The past anger and frustrations were all but lingering smoke in your hair, your heart couldn’t recall the heat of how they burned the bridge down. They say time heals, and it's true.

The years apart had gradually soothed over the tender wounds on your ego. With the pain subsided your brain was clear enough to review the moments that lead to that outburst, and it made you die internally.

Should you just apologize right now? To alleviate the creeping guilt traveling up your shoulder, and so your poor blanket won’t be kicked as hard tonight. Can a small apology really travel across the full length of the seven-year-wide rift that had formed? Your lips stayed firmly shut, there was your answer.

Alhaitham took a step towards you, instinctively your body shuffled three more steps away, widening the berth between your bodies. His movement paused, teal eyes peering down at you as you looked at the space behind his head. No words were said.

This awkward scene was very reminiscent of your introduction to the ashen-haired man many years ago.

–

Your parents, esteemed researchers working for a renowned corporation, had moved into a new neighborhood. The house was much larger than your old home, large enough to house a grand piano in the living room.

“It’s about time you start learning the piano.” Were the orders your parents had given you, sitting your six-year-old self at the intimidating instrument.

On the same day you were introduced to your new duty, you were also introduced to the neighbor’s kid. The only other kid on the block filled with prominent academic figures from the nation’s top university. A grey-haired boy was standing by the side of the older lady, while you clung to your father’s slacks. The boy’s bored teal-eyed stare made you advert your eyes to your pretty shoes.

“This is Alhaitham, he is the same age as you. Say hello.” The stern hands of your father broke your grasp on his slacks and pushed you towards the boy named ‘Alhaitham’.

“Alhaitham, won’t you greet our new neighbor?” The older woman’s wrinkled but kind eyes motioned to your nervous frame.

“Hello.” Greeted a flat voice.

Your tiny hand found its way back to your father’s slacks, grip wrinkling it even more. You were physically unable to utter a single noise. After what felt like an eternity of staring at your shiny sneakers, your father’s hand tug you away. The adults were now having a small conversation, mostly your parents apologizing for your shyness and the older professor laughing the matter off.

“There is no need to apologize, children are fickle sometimes. But I hope that she and Alhaitham will get along. You are always welcome to visit, little one.” Her eyes peered at your restless form. You liked her eyes, they were warm.

That night you sat through a long lecture from your parents about your rudeness toward the grandma. All you could do was bow your head, back perfectly straight on the plush new sofa. You were sent to bed with no dinner that night, told to think about how your actions would reflect upon your parents.

–

The invasive memory triggered by this sudden reunion left a bitter taste on your tongue. The taste that you’ve purposefully been fleeing from all these years. Now with his presence so burdensome, it was dragging your thoughts down deeper. You needed to put a stop to this before your head disappears under the water.

So just like all those years ago, you disappeared from teal eyes. Not uttering a single greeting as the resounding click of your door was heard.

Exiting the automated glass doors, you could finally relax your shoulders. The sun was hanging in the sky this Wednesday evening, you were grateful that you were actually able to clock off work on time.

Your eyes scanned the unfamiliar buildings that decorated the landscape, all large and reaching towards the sky, light bouncing off polished windows. You were free to explore.

Your job required you to attend a meeting about some closing of a deal between the two companies. Thus, the reason why you were currently in the midst of the upscale business district of Sumeru City. Opposing the rundown sector you called home, the sidewalks here were leveled and free of fissures. Many of the trendy shops that lined the streets beckoned you closer to their displays.

With one glance over the price tags attached to the chic items your body instantly turned away. Of course, the prices in the yuppie part of the city would be out of your budget.

Walking further down the road, you let yourself enjoy the warm breeze of Sumeru against your stuffy blouse and pencil skirt. Your skin has finally thawed out after being in that overly air-conditioned conference room. Turning onto a quieter side street you walked past the tantalizing smells wafting from the small cafes.

The gig from last Saturday compensated you quite handsomely. Perhaps you could splurge a little, a reward for yourself securing a returning performance later this month.

One particular cafe caught your interest, it was a combination of a bookstore and a coffee shop. The blackboard sign placed outside listed the daily specialties, and for once the prices of the drinks weren’t outrageous.

A small bell chimed above your head, welcoming you inside. After placing your order, you decided to peruse through the selection of novels the shop had on display.

Most of the titles were of the new best sellers or latest academic papers. Your fingers brushed across the smooth covers, observing the different arts and fonts. It seems that you’ve wonder quite a bit down the rows, somehow ending up in a section filled with the simple cover illustrations of children’s books. You were far too old to enjoy such books now.

Just as you turned on your heel to head back up the aisle, a brilliant verdant cover catches your eye. ‘Oh, so it’s still in print’, you thought. The Giving Tree, the title of the first book you ever learned to read.

–

“Alhaitham is the same age as you, yet he’s reading scientific journals. You should learn from him.” Your mother’s eyes examined your round eyes looking back up at hers.

Your small frame deflated even smaller, the bright aura that had been radiating off of you dissipated like morning dew under the harsh sun.

Just earlier you had your first piano lesson, the piano teacher was so excited to tell your parents how much potential you had, and how filled with talent you were. Their words made you perk up on the bench, the instrument no longer felt as frightening.

The praise had left you in a good mood, so much so that you agreed to accompany your mother to the neighbor’s house. A book clutched in the hand that wasn’t held in your mother’s clammy grasp. You weren’t sure if you were in a good mood anymore.

The kind grandma led you to a small library where her grandson was, Alhaitham was curled up on the rug with a thick journal in his small hands. The thin children’s book in your hand paled in comparison.

“Now, now. Alhaitham is just very passionate about reading. Your daughter is at the normal age where children begin reading, perhaps she’ll also gain a fondness if they read together. I think they’ll have fun together.” The kind woman gestured for you into the room.

Your mother releases your hand, a cold look ushered you toward the empty spot next to the boy. Settling down on the other side of the rug, you glanced up quickly. She seemed satisfied.

The grandma soon led your mother to another part of the house, continuing their conversation. You turned toward the boy next to you, he was too focused on the text in front of him to bother greeting you.

Spirits a bit dejected, you opened the cover to your own thin book. It was your father that placed the book in your hands, telling you to start reading. As your eyes glossed over the figures that took up only a fraction of the page, you came across the obvious hurdle.

You don’t know how to read. No one had ever sat you on their lap and gone through this book with you, or any book really.

The illustrations and script on the page taunted you, calling you to decypher their meanings and symbols. The pages were quickly flipped through until you hit the back cover, then flipped through once more until you were back to the front.

A foolish attempt for a miracle, that if you flipped through the book fast enough, somehow those scribbles on the pages will make sense.

“Are you even reading?” Spoke a slightly irritated voice.

Oh, your loud turning must have distracted the boy from his reading. The flipping stopped, as you glanced at him seeing the disinterested eyes staring back, you looked away. The embarrassment this time compelled your mouth to speak.

“N-no… I don’t know how…” Cheeks burned from shame, you could already feel that familiar sting in your eyes. Oh no, if you cried then mom might frown again.

A sigh resounded beside you, Alhaitham shifted his body out of his comfortable position against his pillow. Oh no, is he getting up to tell mom about the dark secret you just spilled to him? You didn’t get him to promise he won’t tell, will he get you in trouble?

“Give it here.” An expecting hand reached out, palms open.

You blinked at the hand slowly, did he want the book in exchange for not telling? Obediently, you placed the small book into his hold. His teal eyes glance over the title quickly, before he lays the book open in the space between your two bodies. Your head tilted in confusion at his actions. But as soon as his tranquil voice read the word out loud, that confusion stopped.

“Mmm… I don’t like the boy.” You crossed your arms in front of your small body, round cheeks pushed out in a pout.

Alhaitham just finished reading the story to you, he ran his small finger along with each word he spoke so you could follow along as well. His eyes connected with yours inquisitively, waiting for you to continue.

“The nice tree gave him so much, and he never said ‘thank you’. And he left the tree alone for so long, the tree must have been so sad. He’s mean, a big meanie and… and…”

“Ungrateful.” Alhaitham finished your sentence.

“Un-un..grateful?” You titled your head again, the unfamiliar word felt weird on your tongue.

“Ungrateful. U-n-g-r-a-t-e-f-u-l. It means having no feelings of thanks, you can also say he’s selfish.” The boy answered your question before you could even ask it.

You pressed a finger against your lips, turning the newly learned vocabulary in your head. Yeah, those words fit the boy in the story very well. Ungrateful and selfish. You looked back at the boy sitting next to you, a smile stretched your chubby cheeks. The grandma was right, reading with him was fun.

“You’re really smart.” You beamed at him.

“That means nothing to me.” He huffed, turning his face away.

You could spy with your little eyes the red tint on the tips of his ears that peeked out from his ash-colored hair.

“Hehe, and you’re funny too.” For the first time in a while, you giggled.

–

What a bittersweet memory, like the fragrance of the different brews traveling throughout the small shop. Yet, the nostalgia brought a small curl to your lips. You turned away from the book, only to flinch at what your eyes saw next.

The boy from your memories is now a man standing adjacently. You must’ve been too lost in thought to notice his towering stature.

After that tense reunion in the hallway, thankfully Alhaitham didn’t decide to knock on your door. Not that you would’ve answered anyways. He probably had already predicted your actions, and thus saved himself the time.

He was dressed in a suit and but the tie was loose around his neck, he must’ve just gotten off of work. The path back to the coffee bar was just slightly blocked by his wide frame, you had to get past him.

Teal-orange eyes converged with your stare, ah it’s too late to try and sneak past now. Alhaitham acknowledges your presence with a slight nod of his head, expression blank and unreadable. Once again you didn’t say a single greeting.

As if a merciful archon had been watching this pathetic interaction, an opportunity for escape was granted in the form of the barista calling out your name.

“Excuse me.” Was all you could muster, hastily striding past him, body pressed against the selves so as to not brush against him.

Before you the bell at the front chimed again to signal your departure, you made sure to leave some extra mora, more than the necessary amount. Done in silent gratitude towards the unsung hero of a barista.

It was now the last Saturday of the month, meaning it was time for your return performance. In your bathroom mirror, you smoothed out any stray hairs, straightening out your black performance garb.

A sacred ritual to slow the beating of your jumping heart. It’s a bit silly to admit, but no matter how many times you’ve performed, your nerves always went haywire. A terrible habit that made its way to adulthood.

The tavern you were performing at was quite a popular joint among the locals of Sumeru City. The nice wooden and homey interior gave many city dwellers their taste of nature in a progressing world. A grand piano was tucked away in a clear corner of the establishment, a ring of tables enclosed the area into a stage of sorts.

Pushing through the intricately carved doors, you entered Lambad’s Tavern eyes surveying the audience for this Saturday night. There were some tables still empty, awaiting the future stream of guests. Chatter quietly reverberated through the serene scene for now.

The atmosphere can get a bit rowdy as more and more alcohol ran through the systems of patrons. In a way, it was perfect for you, a perfect stepping stone in your slow climb.

Checking in with the manager at the front, you got the thumbs up to start setting up for your show. An agreement had been reached earlier this month that you would be playing the piano for three hours, three hours of having the privilege to play on a grand piano again. Not on the electronic imitation of your keyboard. Eager hands glided their soft touch along the smooth keys.

Yes, nothing can truly capture the beauty of the grand piano’s voice, not even the CDs you set up on a table nearby. Recordings with a mixed tracklist of classical pieces and original compositions, just like your setlist for tonight.

Lifting up the fallboard, you set the sheets against the music stand. Not that you needed them. Every note, every rest, and every change in tempo memorized in your fingers. Taking a deep breath, your eyes did one final scan around the room. Most tables were too emersed in their own conversations to take note of you.

Rubbing your fingers together to grind out the tremble of your nerves before you shut your eyes. In the darkness quiet darkness of your mind, your fingers moved into their positions over the keys. Erik Satie’s Je te veux resonated with the muddled conversations of the audience, adding to the serene air.

You’ve always closed your eyes when performing, a trait that has embedded itself from the start of your music career. The darkness of your mind offered a reprieve from the critical eyes of judges and parents during recitals and competitions.

You first stepped into this safe haven around the time of your first recital at the age of eight.

–

It’s been a few months since you first began your piano lessons, and your teacher was eager to announce your first recital. They had a sparkle in their eyes, keen to show off their most talented disciple.

They had discovered an unpolished diamond among the mediocre ruff, a young naturally blessed child. Your lips were kept sealed about the long hours your parents forced you to sit in front of the piano after each weekly lesson.

Before you only ever played under the watchful gaze of either your parents or teacher, not an audience of strangers. To say you were nervous would be an understatement, you were terrified.

“I can’t do it.” You retracted your hands from the piano once again, as if the keys were scorching you.

“You said you wanted to play the piano for me.” The young boy beside you huffed out, annoyed at your actions. You had repeated these steps five times now.

“I know! But I’m… scared…” Your posture deflated.

“If you can’t play in front of one person, how can you play for a crowd?” Alhaitham’s disinterested eyes crept back to the book he had placed beside him, you had dragged him away from his reading for this.

“I don’t know…” A frown pulled at your face, eyes feeling the incoming burn. You didn’t want to cry in front of him.

There was a tense moment of nothingness between the two of you. The boy quietly observed the paper propped up against the music stand.

“Do you know how to play this piece?” His flat voice broke the suspense.

“Yes I do! I’ve been practicing this every day, I can even do it with my eyes closed.” You huffed in disbelief at his accusation.

“Then do that. Just play with your eyes closed.” He retorted as if it was the most obvious statement in the world.

Which in truth, it was the most obvious statement in the world. You’ve been practicing Vom fremden Ländern und Menschen from Kinderszenen since the beginning of the month every day for six hours a day. The rhythm and keys were ingrained into your fingers by the second week.

The solution was so plain and simple, why didn’t you think of it? Your parents were right, you are always a few steps behind the brilliant boy.

An embarrassed flush covered your round cheeks. Suddenly his stare was heavy, heavier than the ones from your parents and teacher. The muscles in your finger felt tense. Your young mind could tell that if this continued then the tune embedded in your hands wouldn’t come out at all.

“Can you not look?” A quiet plead.

“I thought you wanted me to watch.” A grey brow was raised.

“I know… But…” Around him, you couldn’t seem to finish your sentences.

“Fine.” Deciding that prying further would be a wasted effort, Alhaitham turned his short body around on the bench so that his back faced the piano instead. Cracking open his thick book back to the page he had left off on.

“I don’t need to look at you to hear you play anyways.” The young boy’s eyes returned back to their place among the text.

Sitting back up straight again, shoulder back and hands into position. You took a deep breath and entered the darkness behind your eyelids. This time your fingers guided you through the moment, and the piano sang out its melodies.

–

Coincidentally, Vom fremden Ländern und Menschen from Kinderszenen just so happened to be ending right now as the memory finished its course. You had transitioned into the piece some time ago, finishing five out of the many on your three-hour setlist. It was right about time for a small break.

As your eyelids lifted a few soft claps reached your ears, from the growing chatter it seems that more customers had funneled into the tavern.

The manager of the tavern was a very generous man, so much so that he offers you a complimentary drink you could claim during each of your breaks. You would be a fool to turn down such an offer, but you reminded yourself that you need to maintain a certain level of sobriety. For the sake of your performance.

The sweet wine felt divine running down your parched throat. The alcohol did wonders in mellowing out your racing thoughts as you returned back to your place at the piano. Just like before, you did a small survey of your surroundings. Big mistake, for your mind kicked into overdrive when locking gazes with teal eyes.

‘Speak of the devil, and he doth appear’.

A superstition you should really be more mindful of. Shifting your body towards the piano, you ended the impromptu staring contest. Ah, what song were you supposed to play now? Thoughts scrambled as you can still feel the heaviness of Alhaitham’s gaze on your back. ‘Just play’ you internally scolded.

Letting your fingers take over the piano, retreating back into the comforting blackness.

“Who was that?” Kaveh creaked open the door to his new apartment, inquiring his now former roommate about the scene that unraveled moments before.

Alhaitham observed the heavy metal frame that closed you off from him once more. This was certainly an unexpected surprise. It’s been seven years since he last hear your voice. Seven years since you marched forth on a path carved by your own grit and resoluteness.

Many things have changed these seven years.

Who are you?

Eyes still following the cracks of the paint running up your door, the ashen-haired man’s mind recounted a scene from long ago.

–

It’s been a few months since you first moved into this neighborhood, taking Alhaitham’s title of ‘only kid on the block’ away. During your first introduction, you wouldn’t even greet him constantly tugging on your father’s pant leg and staring at your feet.

Now you wouldn’t stop greeting him. After lunch, almost like clockwork, there would be a knock at his front door. Disrupting his precious reading time. You’d be there on the other side with a new book for him to read to you, or you’d bounce on the heels of your feet inviting him to hear your piano.

Today, it was the latter. Alhaitham had his back facing the piano, the position that made you the most comfortable. A book was open in his lap, but his mind was busy pondering a mystery to pay attention to it or to the tune you were playing. Grandma said it wasn’t good to hold in questions, lest they consume the curious mind. Best to get answers from the source of the mystery.

“Why do you seek me out?” His flat voice interfered with the sharp notes.

“Huh?” You turned to him perplexed, fingers now hovering over the keys.

“Are we friends?” He asked directly, it’s good to be straightforward.

“Of course we’re friends! Even if you’re a bookworm, you’re still a precious friend of mine.” Chest puffed up at your bold declaration.

“If I am a bookworm, it’s only appropriate to call you an earworm.”

“E-earworm? There are worms that live in the ear??”

“No, it’s just a figure of speech. Earworm refers to a tone or melody that repeats constantly in the mind.”

“Ooh. Earworm…” You pondered the term for a bit before another splitting smile spread across your face.

“Yes! You’re a bookworm and I’m an earworm.” A finger was directed at him then back at yourself, giggling.

Strangely, the young boy felt a tickle at the back of his throat, as if your laughter was contagious like a cold. He decided to hold it back in favor of observing your expression for a bit longer.

“Oh!” You jumped up from the bench, reaching into the shiny pencil case you kept close to the piano.

Pulling out a bold black marker you uncapped the tool before climbing onto the bench, the extra height allowing you to maneuver the top half of your body into the body of the piano.

Now it was his turn to be bewildered, quickly snapping his eyes towards the entrance of the living room, watching out for signs of your parents. Soon you reemerged from the instrument, capping the marker with a proud look in your eyes.

“There, now there’s solid proof of our friendship.”

Alhaitham peers into the piano, observing the words clumsily written along the wooden shell:

Property of Bookworm and Earworm

“Why am I before you? It’s your piano isn’t it?”

“Well ‘B’ comes before ‘E’.” You puffed out your cheek at his lackluster response to your heartfelt gesture.

For the first time ever in front of you, Alhaitham let an obvious smile appear on his face.

–

What a bittersweet term. Friends. Yes, the two of you were once friends long ago. Close friends who morphed into strangers. The catalyst for this change? With each new stage of life, branching paths will appear, the parting of ways is just a natural phenomenon.

He is Alhaitham and you are you. Separate individuals with separate lives on separate paths.

“Just someone I used to know.” Came his candid answer.

“Right.” Kaveh rolled his eyes, clearly displeased at how the ashen-haired man won’t give his question an actual response.

Alhaitham removed his eyes from your door, picking the cardboard box back off the tiled hallway. Kaveh didn’t need to know the specifics, the precious details shall forever make their home in a safe corner of his mind.

Alhaitham exited the ornate doors of the office building. Currently, it was the closing quarter, meaning the office has been more bothersome than usual. Even with his perfected front of acting busy, more and more troublesome characters have been strolling into his office. It’s irrelevant now, for the secretary is now off the clock.

The sun was still in the sky, perfect weather to grab a bit to eat from a local coffee shop. It’s been a week since he last picked up a new book as well, there was one place that came to mind that would allow the man to kill two birds with one stone. Long legs walked with swift strides towards his destination.

Even will his earphones in, Alhaitham could still hear the hustle and bustle of the crowded streets. In Sumeru City this was expected, construction, traffic, and pedestrians, everything thing muddled together in noisy inference with his thoughts. He turns up the volume.

Opening the door to the cafe, the bell sounded his arrival. The usual barista was there at the counter. With a quick glance up the barista instinctively placed his order, a testament to just how often the ashen-haired man frequents this place. Good, this saves him the trouble.

Without pausing his music, Alhaitham began pursuing the nonfiction section of the small shop. There were a few new scientific journals that have been published, maybe he’ll give them a read.

Although his ears were currently occupied, that doesn’t mean his other senses were dulled. He could feel the weight of someone’s gaze upon his back. Usually, the man would simply brush such occurrences off. But there was this small nag coming from a corner of his mind. This could be a result of a brain being bored by a day’s worth of paperwork. He’ll indulge his curiosity.

Returning the weight of the gaze back to the mysterious source he felt his jaw clench just a bit. There you were again, staring at him with your lips pressed together tensely. Your wide eyes were very reminiscent of a spooked songbird. Everything about your body language read startled and for flight.

This time, Alhaitham doesn’t encroach, he simply nodded his head in a small greeting. It seems even this small action sparked you to flee. You mouthed something before quickly strolling past him.

Shamelessly, his teal eyes followed your path as you paid for your coffee and disappeared out of sight from the shop windows. Yes, his statement that these seven years have brought about much change was correct. It wasn’t like this before.

–

“Alhaitham, why are you reading here?” His grandma inquired about the reason behind her grandson situating himself at the window nook instead of inside the library.

“I just wanted to enjoy the sunlight.” Came his crafted response.

From this small nook, the window gave a clear view of the front steps and the path that led to the house just across the street. The older woman took note of this, kind eyes giving the young boy a knowing look and smile. You had begun attending the local school.

Meanwhile, Alhaitham adamantly wanted to stay home and self-study instead. Stating that all the material the school covered he already knew. The old lady didn’t raise any objections to her grandson’s decision.

“If you go over to her house remember to be polite, and inform me before you do.” A wrinkled hand tussled through his soft ashen locks.

“There’s no need. I’m just sitting here to read.” He leaned into his grandma’s touch.

“Of course, of course. Then I shall make use of this afternoon to review some material. Remember what I said.”

“Yes, grandma.” Came his reply.

With that, Alhaitham was left to his own thoughts by the window. He didn’t really know why he felt the pull to sit by the window. Was it to get a glimpse of you? The neighbor’s daughter?

You and he were the only two kids on the block, so it wasn’t surprising you would often seek out his company. A friendship formed by virtue of close proximity. However, now you were attending classes filled with other kids your age. His company would sooner or later fade into obscurity.

Alhaitham has always been very attuned to the situation around him, displaying a level of maturity and insight way beyond his years. Perhaps he still retains some semblance of that childish essence. Demonstrated by his current position, the book in his lap only held half of his attention, the other wondering out the clear glass.

What is he hoping for realistically? Others can provide you much livelier company than he ever could, and yet he still-

The boy puts down the book, short legs pattering across the wooden floor swiftly carrying his body to the door. Small hands turned the cold brass before he channeled all his strength into prying the wooden mass from the frame.

Revealing your bewildered face, hand frozen in its position ready to knock on the now open door. Once your eyes met, it wasn’t long before a smile replaced your expression.

“Hi, Haitham! Wanna hear me play today?”

–

Yes, that was how things used to be. Even as your social circle grew, even as new families moved in, you’d still appear back in front of him. Beaming that smile he lost the privilege to see. Like a songbird that returned every day to sing in front of his window as the solitary child read.

Alhaitham’s eyes found themselves locked once more on a door, the one you had rushed out of not so long ago. There was a weight pulling down on the corners of his mouth. He entered Sumeru’s education system during high school. Missing the crucial formative years previously where cliques and social labels were formed, he stood alone as a loner.

But You always rushed towards him through crowded halls and rooms. Breaking away amidst your social circle from orchestra and band. Just to tap him on the shoulder and eat lunch together in the sanctuary of a private practice room that housed the school’s piano.

These repetitive memories plaguing him brought a bitter taste to his coffee. Perhaps it was the dreadful combination of sweet memory and awareness of the current state of affairs.

Finally, the end of the month has come. Meaning things at work have sorted themselves out, at least for another three months. In lieu of attending an actual company-sponsored dinner, Alhaitham decides to get a drink at the local tavern.

Company dinners were noisy, filled with black ties and white lies. Too troublesome. However, recently his mind has been filling the silence of his house with redundant thoughts.

A drink from time to time is a good way to destress and quell the mind, Alhaitham reasons as he enters the establishment. Lambad’s Tavern was a local joint that provides a small solace from the rambunctious city streets. A place the man likes to visit on occasion, usually when an invitation was extended.

From the moment he entered through the doors, he could hear a piano ending its cords. It seems that there was live music tonight. Usually, it was nice to have background music accompany the chatter of the other patrons. But why a piano of all choices tonight? Alhaitham takes a deep breath before letting out a small sigh, it’s as if a ghost of the past is haunting him.

Placing an order for a bottle of wine to be delivered to a secluded area, Alhaitham makes his way to the usual table. His body maneuvered through the sea of flushed face patrons, and the sight of the grand piano came into view.

The bench by the instrument was empty, perhaps his mind really is just conjuring up a ghost. Regardless, once the wine comes these thoughts will settle.

“Your wine.” The alcohol was set down.

“Thank you.” Alhaitham swirls the glass a bit before taking a sip.

His bored eyes began to wander once more, looking for anything to bide the time with, unsurprisingly they were beckoned towards the piano. Only this, time it was no longer empty. No, this time it was no ghost invented by a bored mind, it was you. He stiffly swallowed down the wine.

He wasn’t subtle nor careful with how obviously he was staring, thinking too occupied by astonishment. This must have tipped you off, as once again your wide-eyed gaze connected with his heavy one. You made that tense face again. You broke away, tightly shutting your eyes before your fingers hit the keys, making the piano sing.

‘Oh, so you still closed your eyes when you played’. Alhaitham found a strange satisfaction in this fact as if he found comfort in the one constant he still knew about you. Arms and fingers moved fluidly, a sight he used to not be able to see out of respect for you.

–

Your parents were busy with their research, and his grandmother had her hands full with academic responsibilities. It was only Alhaitham who had the time, a resource only abundant in youth, to attend your recitals and concerts.

As the crowd and the judges bored holes into your figure up on stage, the young man kept his eyes peeled on the book in front of him.

The young man didn’t mind attending these events, the audience was mostly silent save for the occasional applause. After so many years and lunches spent by your side at the piano, his ears have gotten used to the melodic accompaniment to his reading.

The final chords of your performance reverberated throughout the air, followed by the rolling clapping of hands.

He lifted his attention up to the stage. Although it’s ironic how the only time you wanted him to watch your performance was at the end, he’ll respect your wishes. From the brightly lit stage, you were finishing your bow, and as your head rises your eyes connected with his. A beaming smile was directed at him.

Was it you or the stage lights that stung his eyes?

“How’d you think I did, Haitham?” Was the first thing out of your lips after rejoining him.

The concert hall had emptied out some time ago, and Alhaitham had been waiting by the backstage door to walk home with you. You held a thick folder against the front of your formal black gown, a bounce in your ballet flat steps. Alhaitham pretended to contemplate his answer.

“I’m not well versed in acoustics nor how to judge music, so I don’t see how my opinion would matter.” Came his flat reply.

“Haitham, you listened to me play for years. How have you not learned a thing?” You pouted, just like how he predicted.

The young man gave you a simple shrug. Of course, he found your performance exceptional, he was there for the hours of practice you put in.

“Whatever, now that it’s over. I can start looking at the piece the conductor wanted me to accompany for the school’s orchestra. Ahh, I only have three weeks to practice.” You made a face as you dug through the thick folder as the two of you continued to walk.

He only hummed in response, shifting his focus back to his book. It was the sweet Sumeru Spring of your third year of high school, the perfect for a serene walk home.

Over the top of the pages, his teal eyes could see your lips press into a crooked line, desperately trying to suppress your snickers as you sightread the notes on the sheet.

“Is that a piece by Debussy?”

“Huh? How’d ya know, Haitham?”

You were easy to read. After knowing you for over a decade now, you were like an open book to him. The journal hides his small smile from your sight.

–

The memory reminded him to advert his eyes, focusing back on the glass of wine in front of him. He came here for a drink, he should follow through with his plan. The wine quickly vanished as Alhaitham signed for another. It took an impressive amount of willpower for his eyes to not wander back, he won’t let them.

Your small performance had come to an end, sounded by the closing of the fallboard and how the bench dragged against the floor. He knew you were bowing to show thanks to the audience, yet he still refused to look. From your earlier actions, it was blatant that you despised his presence.

So even as your figure passed by his table, Alhaitham refused to allow you into his line of sight.

It’s been an hour since you left the establishment in a rush, and Alhaitham had run up quite the tab now, best to call it a night. Tossing some mora onto the table, the ashen-haired man stands up ready to begin the taxis ride back.

The effects of the alcohol must have made his eyes wander back to the piano, a fruitless attempt to watch one last glimpse. And a glimpse they found, in the form of a CD you had carelessly left behind.

You had abandoned it, thus it was now free for the taking.

It was unlike the stoic man to order rounds after rounds of wine, but he needed something to busy himself with. Just as how you were busy with the piano, he needed the alcohol to quell undesirable impulses. However, as his unsteady steps made it up the front porch, he was chastising himself for that decision. A hangover was guaranteed in the morning.

Roughly slamming the door shut behind him, Alhaitham entered the asylum of his home. The newfound stillness of the house was usually a luxury the ashen-haired man indulged in. However, at the moment it was a tribulation, for his noisy thoughts filled the silence. Its volume only exacerbated by the alcohol in his system.

When he was younger, Alhaitham naively thought the knowledge gained from academic journals was equivalent to experience. After all, he had just read about another person’s experiences, he could pinpoint their flaws and learn from their mistakes so as to not repeat them.

Just like the knowledge obtained from his books, he assumed that you too shall always remain in his possession, you shall always stay by his side. Of course, only a naive teenager, no, only a naive child would think this way.

Did you know that the downfall of many great kings, heroes, and gods was their hubris? Excess self-confidence blinds their vision. Excess confidence only a naive child would have, believing he could analyze everything.

Oh, how life works in mysterious ways, finding lessons to humble such egos. Alhaitham, against his will, reminisces about the event that taught him a valuable lesson in the noisy silence of his house.

–

“Haitham, I can’t believe they did it.” You were curled up on the couch of his grandmother’s home, tears streaming down your face.

“They sold my piano, Haitham. They sold it because they wanted me to get over this ‘hobby’. Hypocrites, as if they weren’t the ones who forced me to practice hours a day since I was a kid.”

Alhaitham said nothing, silently holding the tissue box out to you. The pair of you had just returned from school just a few hours earlier, bidding goodbye before returning to your respective houses. However, just an hour ago his quiet reading was disrupted by frantic pounding on the front door. He had opened it to your tear-stained face.

“How could they instill in me a passion for all my life, but when I want to continue with it as a career, they do their damnedest to snuff it out?” You were furiously wiping your eyes with the back of your hands.

Oh, so that’s what happened. Alhaitham had already seen this coming, knowing how your parents were, it was predictable. They had valid reasons for not wanting their daughter to pursue such a career path.

You still had stage fright, constantly telling him to not look at you when you played. How would you make a living like this? He analyzed the statistics and figures before he comes to his own conclusion.

There was no reason that you couldn’t balance a stable career with your passion for piano. In Sumeru, they had one of the most progressive work cultures of all of Teyvat. There were generous amounts of paid time off, sick days, and reasonable hours. You had more than enough time for music.

He decides to share his conclusion with you.

“Music should stay a hobby. Even graduates from the most prestigious music universities aren’t guaranteed a career. To be frank, it’s better if you pursue a degree that leads to a steadfast position. Of course, be firm in your boundaries so that you can have the time for piano.”

The room fell silent, your wide eyes stared into his calm teal ones. A heavy hush hung in the air as the grandfather clock continued to tick away, until it rang, signaling the change in the air. After the last resonance of its chime faded, you let out a laugh, but there was no joy in your voice.

“Of course… Why did I think you’d be different? This is why they love you.” Your tone was dry as your shoulders shook, eyes now trained on the floor.

“Look at Alhaitham, what a level-headed guy he is, you should learn from him. Look at his grades, why can’t you be top of the class? He’s so talented and good at everything, what can you do? Why can’t you be more like Alhaitham?” You spat out his name as if it was poisonous.

“Comparison is the thief of joy, you shouldn’t-” Alhaitham needed to de-escalate this crescendo.

“If only you were born their son… Then I wouldn’t have suffered.” More tears fell from your eyes as you stumbled off the couch.

“I hate you, Alhaitham. I hate you for ruining my life.”

Alhaitham once believed that words, which have no physical form, couldn’t hurt him. The stab in his chest from an unseen force dismissed that notion.

Your burning eyes reconnected with his gaze. He knew that look, he’s seen it many times. Jealousy, anger, and hatred. They were familiar emotions that others cast his way, yet he found himself taken aback. You’ve never looked at him like this before… Have you?

Before he could utter another word, you stormed off. All the young man could do was watch the back of your figure as it disappeared from sight.

–

There was a firm frown now on Alhaitham’s lips and a furrow between his brows. He wanted this horrible play to end, for his brain to stop showing him events that have already passed. It’s always one’s own mind that can show the most cruelty to itself.

–

It’s been a month since you’ve last spoken to him. Taking long about ways to school so as to avoid crossing paths with him, your lunches were spent locked in private practice rooms.

Young Alhaitham had a whole month to analyze and reanalyze at which moment everything fell apart. After much deliberation, he concluded that he made a miscalculation. He overstepped his boundaries.

In the end, it was your life, you should be the one to decide how you will live it. His unsolicited suggestion was wholly unnecessary. He knew an apology was needed.

However, he could read from your actions that you weren’t ready to talk to him just yet. It wouldn’t be wise to approach you, lest you look at him again with those eyes. That’s fine, he can wait until you came to him. Alhaitham bided his time with more books. Was reading without music always this lonely?

It was the day of your graduation. From within the sea of celebratory gowns and cheering students, teal eyes honed in on your figure. You were intentionally avoiding his gaze, instead going to congratulate and talk to fellow musicians and classmates. His hand balled up into a fist before he unclenched it. It’s fine, you need more time, and he’ll respect that.

It’s the least he could do. Either way, the two of you had the whole Summer to make up before university started.

Another miscalculation on his part.

Alhaitham recalls the panicked ringing of his doorbell, but instead of you, the door opened to reveal your parents. You were gone. Your phone was left behind, important documents missing from filing cabinets, and a bag full of belongings gone. You’ve vanished, the only explanation they got was a note:

“Don’t Bother Me”.

You’ve already become a legal adult, how could the Matra have any justification to drag you back?

That whole hellish Sumeru Summer Alhaitham read at the nook located by the front door. For that whole Summer, the young man answered any number that flashed on his screen. He knew that you had limited money, after your pitiful savings dried up you were bound to return. If not to your house, then at least to this haven.

Your voice was never on the other side.

Laughably, it took the prodigy Alhaitham an entire Summer to finally come to terms with the facts of the matter. The songbird had left its tarnished cage, and it will never return. He started university without you by his side.

–

Grey lashes fluttered open as the play finally ends. Memories that once looped like a broken record in his mind. With time this memory became a softer hum to his thoughts. An earworm that burrowed deep within so as to remind him of his past shortcomings.

Yes, his past mistakes made him aware of his limited human vision. That he did in fact not know everything. The series of errors that strayed you away from him. Humans weren’t books, they’re not as easy to decipher as scripts on a page. The growing pains of maturing. A lesson he has learned well.

Once was an accident, twice is a coincidence, and the third time… a chance. Alhaitham doesn’t believe in gods or fate, but he does believe in opportunity.

Teal eyes made their way to the CD left on top of a polished ivory top. This time, he shall turn around and chase after the ghost, to return to her what was rightfully hers.

If these occurrences were bound to happen more often, then it’s best for you to catch up with the seven-year backlog of information. Of course, instead of consulting the primary source for the much-needed answers, you turned to a secondary source instead. You are nothing, if not a coward.

Hence why on this warm Thursday night you were out at the local bar, wallet getting emptied by the blond slumped next to you.

“Ugh, that man was a tyrant. Leaving books everywhere, letting dust just pile up, and every other sentence had to be a snide remark.” Kaveh finishes another glass, another cry from your wallet.

You were still nursing your second glass while Kaveh’s got a scarlet glow already. A part of you regrets inviting your hall neighbor out, but you appreciated the wealth of information he spilled out once a drop of liquor hit his tongue.

Currently, Alhaitham is employed at the top company in Sumeru city. he’s the secretary but quickly raising up the ranks. He also owns his own house in a rich suburb, one he used to share with the drunk man beside you, but now it only houses himself.

“Not only that but every week like clockwork that apathetic bastard would bring home the ugliest furniture. He once brought home an old piano. It took up so much space and clashed against the dark wood of the house! He wouldn’t even try to arrange them, he messed up the feng shui! He can’t even play! What was it for then?!”

Ah, you can see why the architect was willing to move into the lackluster apartment, he was desperate the spare his blood pressure. You don’t blame him, in fact hearing about your former friend’s spending habits brought a sour aftertaste to your wine.

Oh, how nice it must be to have such financial freedom.

“Then whenever I make a polite suggestion that he try to consider aesthetics, his response? ‘It is my life, my house, and my money. Suggestions from others are irrelevant and should be ignored. I’m guessing such philosophies are difficult to uphold for designers who must bend to their client’s will.’ Can you believe how insufferable he is?”

“Hypocrite.” That word rolled bitterly off your tongue, a past dialogue resurfacing from the back of your mind.

The blond’s hazy eyes peered at your inquisitively. Then his drunken mind sparks a thought: Why were you asking about Alhaitham? He also remembers that he had unanswered questions as well.

“By the way, what is your relation to that detached man?”

“Just a nobody who got compared to his brilliance.”

That doesn’t satisfy his question at all.

“Not this game again. Seriously, just what went down between the two of-”

“For a person who prides himself on his empathy, you sure are oblivious to the discomfort you’re causing. Prying for details that don’t concern you.” A deep voice from behind made your skin prickle.

Why was he here?

You didn’t need to look to feel the heavy weight of his teal eyes, boring holes into your stiff frame. The wine tasted awful now. It’s rude to ditch the guest that you had invited out, but you needed to get out of here before bile begins to taint your palette.

Quickly signaling for the tab, you didn’t even comprehend the number before you slammed down a bunch of mora.

“I’ll leave first. It was nice drinking with you, Kaveh. Let’s do this again sometime.” An excuse and lie.

“Hey, wait-” The blond lifted up his hand.

“I’ll walk you home. It’s quite dangerous this time of night around here.” Alhaitham’s body turned to follow you. Ah, he’s pointing out how shit your neighborhood was, isn’t he.

“Oi! Stop interrupting your senior-”

Alhaitham tosses an extra handful of mora onto the table. Kaveh was nearly shaking with rage, but he couldn’t resist the temptation of another few glasses of wine.

You were taking exaggerated strides across the uneven concrete, trying to put some distance between you. However, your legs were no match for the towering man’s steps, as it wasn’t before long until he caught up.

The clicking of your shoes and the thumps of his steps filled the tense silence. You refused to meet his gaze. But the thoughts racing through your mind needed answers, in particular, why is he haunting you now of all times?

“Why are you here?” You punched in the code for the entrance of the complex.

“I was looking for you. It just so happens that I spotted you through the window of the bar.”

There was an annoyed twitch at your eyebrow. He is not aware of how creepy he sounded right now?

You swiftly pulled the heavy door open and tried to slam it behind you, to create a barrier. However, Alhaitham’s foot was just a bit faster. His tall figure continued to loom behind you as you ascended the stairs.

“I have a reason to seek you.”

“Oh? Then pray tell, why a young professional would follow a woman to her home.” Keys fumbling to fit into the loose door handle.

“I took a CD. I’m no thief, and I believe that a musician should be fairly compensated for her work.” Came his flat reply.

That’s it? You already had a terrible week at work, becoming the scapegoat for the incompetency of managers. Now, his presence was only exacerbating the negativity flowing through you. Maybe the heat of the fire hasn’t been completely forgotten. You don’t want his money, you don’t want his pity.

For the first time, you whipped around intentionally staring straight into his teal-orange irises. You don’t need his money nor pity. Perhaps it was the alcohol talking, maybe it was the mounting stress on your shoulders or a damning combination of both.

You wanted to wipe that indifferent look off his handsome face, you couldn’t stand it.

Alhaitham’s lips parted ready to continue the transaction, only to be interrupted by the crashing of another on his. Your fingers were tangled in the collar of his shirt, wrinkling the crisp fabric. Your burning stare never left his slightly raised eyes, wanting to observe anything hint of human emotion.

Shock? Disgust? Fury? You’d take anything over his infuriatingly stoic face.

Instead of shoving you off like you inferred, Alhaitham slowly lowers his eyelids. Parting his lips even more as if to grant more access, allowing his tongue to dance with yours. These actions only irked you more.

This wasn’t your first kiss with him, the first time happened while two friends were sitting by a piano, heads turning to face each other too fast. An accidental brushing of lips. It irked you that the mushy feeling from that day was currently making its grand return.

Breaking away to allow oxygen back into your burning lungs, a thin strand of saliva trailing between. You were panting as his eyes reconnected with yours, something else was swimming behind those impartial irises. Too bad you were too impatient to decipher it, as you pulled his face back down.

Back pushing the rusty apartment door ajar. Two bodies disappeared behind the awful singing of its hinges.

–

For once, you woke up before the screeching of your phone. The sun was just barely peeking through the blinds. A muscular arm was draped over your bare torso, sheets still a bit damp from sweat. You knew that smell currently suffocating you in the room. You just slept with your former friend.

Your hand itched to slap your face. Idiot, you avoided him for all this time just to welcome him into your bed.

Stealthily shimming your body out of bed, you could feel the slight wobble of your legs. Of course, he’s good at sex, he’s good at everything. You cast a quick glance at his slumbering form. Teal eyes were still hidden behind closed lids. Good, he’s not awake.

Like a thief in your own home, you toed around the clothes scattered across the floor, careful to avoid the creaky wooden planks you’ve memorized.

Swiftly grabbing a random assortment of items out of your closet, you deemed the outfit professional enough for work. Trying to glide across the cluttered apartment like a ghost, you put on your heels, ready for the walk of shame away from your apartment. At least your gym membership will see some use now, a shower would be great to wash the shame and guilt off.

It’s not like you had anything worth stealing. Grabbing your bag off the table, you exited the scene of the crime. Hinges announcing your departure.

If the you from a few months ago saw what the reunion of friends had morphed into, she’d probably keel over in shock. Can you even call yourselves friends anymore?

The next Saturday following that incident, you had finished up another gig at Lambad’s Tavern. An all too familiar face made his way up to the piano. Browsing through the selection of CDs you still had on display.

“I’ll take this one.” Alhaitham held the smooth plastic in one hand, as his other reached for his wallet.

You gestured for him to stop. Crossing your arms in front of your body as if soothing your nerves. Pride still too great to accept his money, a resource he seems to have in excess. Just earlier in the day, after reaching the second round in the audition, the proctor thanked you for your time and lead you to the exit. Another failed attempt to join an orchestra.

You knew that returning to your cramped abode will only lead you to wallow in misery with a cheap bottle of liquor.

“You can come over. I’ll take it as compensation.”

How would you define this relationship? Friends with benefits? But the two of you were ex-friends, so that wouldn’t really make sense. Regardless, you knew what you wanted. To forget the sting of failure through pleasure. You turned your head to face him, awaiting his reply. An attentive stare was the silent confirmation you needed.

Does he think you’re easy or desperate? You didn’t particularly care for his opinion anymore. Alhaitham was currently kneeling by the side of your mused bed, he was here to ‘compensate’ you, and compensate he will. Your thighs were firmly held in his large hands, spreading them apart granting him access to the honeypot he seeks.

His hot tongue lapped at your slick folds, parting the labia and collecting your slick. Making sure to end the journey with a small flick to the little nub on top, before the wet muscle traveled back down. The noise was sinfully melodic. Your legs were straining against his hold, instinctively wanting to close in on his face, but his strength far surpasses yours. So instead, you pressed your lips into the back of your hand. Denying him the privilege to hear your moans.

This must’ve displeased him greatly, as the next thing you knew he broke from his steady tempo, and his soft lips enclosed around your sensitive clit. Alhaitham’s tongue was now accompanied by the suction of his mouth, torturing your poor little bundle. Slurping and sloppy wet flicks bounced off the thin walls. Hot flashes shot up your legs as your toes curled, a moan was fighting its way past your teeth.

He changed his pace once more. Now intertwining deep laps of your leaking hole with the overwhelming attention on your now swollen clit. Your honey was dripping down his chin as he continued his efforts. Your legs were trembling now, unable to give any resistance against his domineering hold. Thus, allowing him to slip one hand between, two long fingers stretching out your gummy walls. Prodding their way through the tight warm hole, mapping out their way to that special spongey patch.

Your teeth wouldn’t hold back the moan any longer. Back arching off the messy sheets, the internal and external pleasure created a maddening duo, pushing your sanity off the edge. Your vision when white was your body shook, nonsense babbling out of your lips. Alhaitham gave your pulsing clit a few more slick licks before pressing a sweet kiss against it.

His towering frame got up from the floor to loom over your recovering body. Teal eyes observing every twitch and shiver of your sloppy face. Soon his face descended closer, this time you were the quick one. Snapping your head to the side. Denying him a kiss, lest those mushy emotions bubble up during this moment. Alhaitham stills, he says nothing, just letting his warm breath fan across your face.

He got the message. Pulling away to give space between your lips, he searches his back pocket for a condom. Even with your bodies connected. There was still a line deeply etched into the sand, separating the two of you.

–

Once again you woke up before him. Once again you slipped out of his embrace. Ocne more his arms gave no protest. Another journey to the gym.

One time turned into two times, two times turned into… you lost count at this point. However, it would simply be a waste of time to think too deeply about it. It’s Alhaitham after all, that man would never bother with activities that waste his time. If it doesn’t serve to benefit in any way, he’d be the first to drop it, what an objective guy he is.

The two of you were still young professionals with a lot of steam to let off. A familiar face of convenience to destress and feel the wisp of comfort from another warm body in this cold world. This is what’s become of the pile of ashes from a once beautiful bridge.

The back of your head hit against the brick wall supporting your body. Another rejection, this time you made it all the way to the semi-finals. Alas, from behind a curtain, the panel of judges deemed you unworthy of playing in their esteemed orchestra. Your aching fingers dug into your palms, hoping that the pain would distract from the burning sting welling up in your eyes.

The pursuit of knowledge and the pursuit of dreams were more similar to each other than what great scholars of the nation of wisdom cared to admit.

They were the shining light that broke through the murky uncertainly of life, beckoning stray souls towards them. Those lost in the labyrinth of reality desperately seek to walk the path illuminated by their glow.

In the end, knowledge and dreams were like the sun’s warm rays shining through the leaves of a tree. No matter how many times your hands reach for and grab, you can never hold them.

The multiple part-time jobs you juggled between your college courses taught you the most valuable lesson no lecture ever could: Dreams cost money, and so did rent, and so did food, and so did utilities.

Scornfully, you had to tack on extra courses to your piano major, a witless minor in business administration. It stings your pride to this day to attribute your current steady stream of income to that last-minute academic decision.

It stung because, in the end, Alhaitham’s prediction was correct. Regardless of if one was a natural or artificial prodigy like you. Even the brightest and most dedicated musicians aren’t guaranteed a career, degree or not. Perhaps, this truth that you’ve come to terms with was the water that smothered the flame of anger. Leaving behind the defeated wisps of regret and embarrassment.

Of course Alhaitham was right, he always is.

There was a chime from the store door opening up beside you. A certain ashen-haired man walked out with a bouquet of Sumeru roses in hand. ‘Speak of the devil, and he doth appear’.

You quickly adverted your gaze, but it was useless as he had already taken note of your presence. You didn’t want to cry in front of him. Deciding to take control of the conversation before anything starts.

“I don’t have a show tonight.” Referring to the bouquet in his hands.

“I’m aware. I was going to visit my grandmother today.” His deep voice drummed.

Oh. You wanted the archons to strike you down at this very moment. Stupid, why did you assume such things? There’s nothing but a tightrope formed by virtue of convenience connecting your paths. Just what were you hoping for? Your cheeks were now burning with shame.

“Would you like to come with me?” His calm tone beckons you out of your thoughts.

At this rate, how could you refuse? Perhaps it was due to the surmounting weight of guilt and embarrassment. But a part of you also knows it’s because you missed her. So you followed Alhaitham to his car, buckling yourself in and opening your arms, offering to carry the flowers. The car ride was silent the whole time.

Alhaitham’s grandmother always looked at you with those tender warm eyes of hers. Extending out a warm hand to comb through your locks in exchange for every song you’d play for her. She was the only voice that offered your impoverished heart any words of encouragement.

Words that brought an inkling of warmth from the icy stares of your parents.

–

The final note echoed throughout the common area of the hospital. Applause could be heard from the few patients attending your impromptu concert. However, your attention was focused all on the soft smile of the frail woman in the wheelchair beside you. Her thin, wrinkled hands clapped together.

Jokingly you gave a dramatic bow from your sitting position at the piano bench, earning a gentle chuckle from her.

“Oh, what a lovely performance by the loveliest girl.” A hand reached out towards you.

You swiftly bowed your head under her palm, allowing her fingers to rest against your scalp. Gently she began to stroke your head, making a wide smile stretch your cheeks. Your heart’s weekly dose of encouragement. However, this tender moment was broken by the vibrations of your phone. Your eyes quickly scanned the name of the caller.

Oh, it was your tutor, you skipped your lessons once more in favor of visiting the Bimarstan.

The woman beside you takes note of this and lets out a huff.

“You’re already plenty smart. I don’t understand why your parents insist on such endeavors.”

You didn’t have the heart to tell her the hours of tutoring and cram schools you sandwiched between your demanding schedule was due to the idolization of her grandson. It wasn’t her fault, it wasn’t his.

It was yours, for not being to stand on equal footing with the prodigy Alhaitham. You pressed your lips sealed. This detail didn’t escape her aging eyes. She shifted her attention to the sheet music propped up on the stand.

“Do you know the story behind Overture to Mozart's Marriage of Figaro?”

You tilted your head to the side, you’ve never researched any piece in depth before. Reading your answer from this action, the old lady continued.

“It was written for quite a famous play. A story and message that caused waves through society at the time. A story about servants rebelling against their masters, taking fate into their own hands.” Her warm eyes gave you a knowing look.

“That is why it’s my favorite song from Mozart.”

“Oh? Then I’ll play it for you again. As many times as you want.” The smile returned to your face.

You never thought that the next time you’d ever play that song would be at her funeral. Fellow professors and colleagues dressed in black filled the room of the wake, paying their respects to her and their condolences to the young man beside you.

What an awful transition into adulthood Alhaitham had.

Tears streamed down your face, dripping onto the marble floor. Peering at the face of your dearest friend, his cheeks were dry.

By the time the sky began to turn its brilliant pink and orange hues, the attendees had all funneled out of the room. Your parents were the first ones to leave, but you stayed firmly by Alhaitham’s side. It was only you, him, and the casket in the room now.

She wanted a private burial, thus the staff informed you that they’ll begin the process soon. However, before they did, you wanted to play her favorite song one last time. Your send-off for her.

Sitting down at the sleek black piano provided by the funeral home, you took a deep breath. Alhaitham takes his place next to you on the bench, with his back facing the piano you couldn’t see his face.

The bright tones of this joyful song resounding through the room harshly contrasted the somber mood. But you continued playing regardless, fingers never skipping a note nor compromising the tempo.

Alhaitham’s head found its way on your shoulder, the weight slightly interfering with your range of motion. However, you didn’t say anything and never stopped playing. The bright melody comforting two grieving souls.

–

The last memories you had of her resurfacing as he places the flowers down at her grave. The tombstone is still as clean and polished as the day it was inlaid into the ground. A testament to the diligence of her grandson, the only family she left behind.

Today was the first time the day didn’t end with a trip to your bed. The mood was inappropriate for such things.

Just two souls quietly reminiscing about the things that are now gone. As it was, it shall never be again.

If his colleagues were to ever discover the current predicament the raising secretary of the company was in, they’d either dismiss it or laugh at him. How unthinkable. The phlegmatic man whose hands always held the reins of control, reduced to such a complacent fool? The desert would freeze over before any of them would ever believe such a thing.

However, Alhaitham didn’t need to justify his actions to anyone. The ashen-haired man already knew the reason behind his actions. He’s known for quite a while now. He holds his convictions firmly and will walk through hell with them.

–

Sitting down in a private study room provided by the university, a senior was currently wallowing in an irrelevant emotion. Alhaihtam knows the name, it’s grief.

Of course, it’s depressing to lose a familiar face, a person who stood by your side throughout your developmental years. However, you were still alive. Why is he grieving over a person who’s still healthy and breathing? Questions unrelated to his thesis plagued his thoughts as his paper remained untouched on the desk.

Teal irises scan the stack of books he had piled to the side. Perhaps he should review some of the material to refresh his mind about his thesis on the consequences of unrecorded words.

Picking a random psychology journal from the mound, this book could hold the answers to why his thoughts are redundant. Alhaitham began his quest for an epiphany.

The student’s experienced eyes scanned through the text, noting details that could potentially support his points. It’s not a surprise that psychology and etymology go hand in hand, after all, words were born out of human thought and the need to communicate them.

This journal was only scratching at the ceiling that prevented him from crossing into the territory of true understanding. It frustrated him.

Disdainfully scrutinizing the text further, running through each passage over and over, until he finally reads the first line of the final page:

“Psychology as a science has its limitations, and, as the logical consequence of theology is mysticism, so the ultimate consequence of psychology is love.”

The student finally closes the covers of the book, it had served its purpose.

No matter how many times his thoughts circled back, searching for correlations and different conclusions from figurative pinpoints. Alhaitham knew in the end, they were all just excuses.

Love is illogical by nature, an unexplainable consequence of human thought. A fever which comes and goes independently of the will. Maybe, the true explanation of love has been lost to time, the unwritten words that belonged in the spaces between the script printed in preserved texts.

So Alhaitham will understand his limits now. It matters not if he understands the origins of love or language or words. All that mattered to him is that he understands now: He was in love. A diagnosis and truth that came years too late. With this revelation quelling his thoughts, he finished his thesis.

Acceptance, the last stage of grief.

–

‘This is unhealthy’ a voice in his mind chastised. Alhaitham didn’t feel the need to defend his current actions, because the voice was right. This is unhealthy. Teal eyes concealed the running thoughts in his head, watching the raising and falling of your chest.

After all these years you reappeared in front of him. The ashen-haired man knew he couldn’t let this opportunity slip through his fingers. Even though it was made from a rope of thorns, he still grabbed onto it.

For now, he shall set aside his pride, his hubris. Sex was the only time you would willingly approach him. Alhaitham was more than willing to exchange his body for the privilege of being close to you once more. A fair trade in his mind.

‘If you love something set it free. If it comes back it's yours. If not, it was never meant to be.’

The stoic man is sure the saying would disagree with his tampering. Like setting a songbird free, only to lure it back into his hands with the irresistible treat of pleasure. It was all he could do. Alhaitham knew that cruelly grasping at the songbird will only snap the fragile tightrope that connected your paths.

After all, you had fled the hated cage of your childhood home the moment the door was left open. He already decided he won’t do that to you.

Instead, he’ll keep holding out his hand, palms wide open, waiting for you to come back to taste the pleasure he offers you time after time again.

You were laying on his chest, sleep drenched every fiber of your being, heart vibrating steadily against his own.

It’s a paradox, how can your body be so close but your heart still so far away?

The desire for sleep outweighed his lust for answers. Or it could be that he already knew, he was just delaying the thought for the morning. His heavy lids closed.

When they open again in the morning, he knows they’ll be greeted by the sight of an empty bed. He knows the sheets that hold your lingering scent will be cold. He knows he will be left alone in your apartment.

Alhaitham knows, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

The Sumeru Grand Orchestra, the golden ticket for any musician. Status, recognition, and generous paychecks. When the auditions were first announced you were one of the first to jump at the opportunity, and so did everyone else, flooding the application sites, but you were able to secure a number: 211.

Weeks in advance on a muted keyboard you practiced every classical piece you could, sharpening your sightreading senses. You were led into the waiting room with all the other aspiring musicians, it was now a game of survival.

You made it to the final round. It’s been five hours since you last left the palatial concert hall where the auditions were held. The one cramped room was now a motionless void, mutterings of prayers to any archon that would listen whispered through the thick air.

“Number 211.”

You were the lamb up for slaughter. The audition piece that was placed into your hand half an hour ago crumbled under the force of your tense grip. The proctor closed the door behind you, stealing off your path of escape as they led you through the labyrinth. At the end of the tunnel, you were greeted by the harsh stage lights glaring off the grand piano.

The curtains that once shielded you from the captious glares of the judges were gone. All of you laid out clearly on the stage. Your fate is balanced on the tips of their immaculate pens. The minuscule tremble of your hands couldn’t escape their hawk eyes.

Chin up and shoulders back, you strolled across the polished wooden planks, settling down at the matte black piano, it was like staring into the abyss.

Taking a deep breath, you signaled the start. Fingers danced along the ivory keys in accordance with the notes memorized. This stanza was from Meditation from Thais, the hypnotic theme filling the empty concert hall.

It’s been a while since you hear your own playing resounded out through such a place. However, this was a turning point a chance to take fate into your own hands.

To once again stand under the warm lights and bow to an audience enamored by your music. For the songbird to fly free from it’s grey sterile cubical.

“Stop.” A cold voice struck the fragile wings of a bird in flight.

You did as you were ordered, even before your mind even registered the words. Oh no, you weren’t finished, you didn’t get to complete this round.

“Number 211 is disqualified. The playing is soulless, empty notes that just echo off the walls.”

–

Soulless. Huh, you’ve never been told that before. Raindrops landed into your unblinking eyes as they observed the darkening sky. Was nature taking pity on you too? Crying for you when your tear ducts were still frozen in shock? You let the cold droplets trail down your cheek. Around you, the crowd dressed in suits and ties walked passed the scene of a death.

The death of your dreams.

You used up one of your precious sick days to attend this audition, but now it might no longer be just an excuse. You couldn’t feel anything but the sharp shards of shattered hope gouging into your back. Staring up at the gray sky from the deep, cold well of your misery.

When did this happen? When did the bright fire fizzle out? When did your passion die?

A sorry excuse of a laugh slipped out. No, it might be accurate to say that there was never a passion in the first place, something nonexistent cannot die. Something nonexistent cannot be created even if the haze of a fever dream might say otherwise. Now that the rain had washed away that haze, you could now clearly see the void.

Did you really like the piano? Or was it a lie engrained into your flesh by stern hands?

Maybe the judges were right, your playing was soulless, pieces only ever practiced for technical perfection. Talent meticulously crafted by grueling long hours. Fingers that separated your beating heart from the inanimate black and white keys. In the end, you were an artificial prodigy, with an artificial passion that quickly denigrated under the droplets of calm rain.

“You’re soaked.” A baritone voice resounded behind you as a warm jacket was placed over your shoulders.

Alhaitham had just gotten off the clock, exiting the grand sliding doors only to spot your listless figure standing as an obstacle for the weaving crowd of the city. However, you kept staring at the dull sky, uncaring about how your wet clothes clung to your shivering figure. You didn’t even seem to perceive his words.

“You’re going to get sick.” Two warm hands placed themselves upon your shoulders, guiding your body to a secluded area, away from the crowd and rain.

This motion jostled your eyes, allowing them to read the company name proudly displayed on the front of the towering skyscraper. Was this the future you had gambled away for a false path shown to you by a dream? A steady job, good savings benefits, and prospective increases in income. All the chips you had pushed into the center of the table as you drew dud cards.

You shifted your eyes away from the imposing letters and connected with teal-orange irises. Was his mask of indifference hiding his smug satisfaction that his prediction was correct? Was he holding back an ‘I told you so’? The bitter whispers of a green-eyed devil tickled against the shell of your ear.

“Come, I’ll drive you home.”

No, you can’t go back to your abysmal apartment. You couldn’t even stomach the thought of seeing the sight of your reality. The messy bedroom, the music sheets scattered all across the cluttered living room, the mocking keyboard pressed up against a corner. If you were to step foot back in there, you’ll disappear under the murky waters in the ocean called ‘regret’.

Your trembling hands grounded themselves in the crisp button-down, crumbling the fabric against Alhaitham’s smooth skin. No words could travel past your vocal cords, throat numb to move. All you could do was shake your hang head from side to side. You could feel the ashen-haired man take a deep breath, his mind quickly forming an alternative plan.

“Come with me.” Large hands gently untangling your fingers from his clothes.

–

Those same gentle hands were now rubbing a fresh towel through your dripping hair, soaking up the excess water that had been trailing droplets down your skin. His house was quiet, no rumbling of car engines from the streets, no loud gurgling pipes, no thumping footsteps. Still and serene, only allowing the soft pattering of rain kissing the ground and windows.

Alhaitham hasn’t spoken a single word to you ever since he welcomed you into his home and sat you down.

As Alhaitham continued with his efforts to warm your shivering body, all you could do was observe the spotless wooden floors. They were so polished and lustrous… just like the grandiose stage.

Something vile was creeping up your neck, slowly making its way up to the falling sanctuary of your mind. No, you needed to push it back, you needed to distract it. To buy you some time before the vileness consumes you wholly.

Hopeless hands trailed up the toned arms of the man currently drying your hair, making his movements stop. You took this opportunity to shift your body so that it pressed against his, the dampness of your clothes transferring to his. Ah, it must be uncomfortable for him.

Clumsily, you began to undo the neat buttons of his button-down, only for your hands to be enclosed within a delicate grip. You could feel the weight of his condemnatory gaze upon you, teal eyes observing your movements as if he was calculating his next move.

There wasn’t any time for contemplation. The bitter bile thoughts were quickly encroaching on their destination. With your hands immobilized you used your mouth instead, nuzzling into the skin that peeked through the unopened portion.

You could feel the small shiver of his warm body reacting to your cold cheek. Alhaitham lets out a deep sigh, hot breath fanning over the top of your head. He got the message.

Your soaked dress was pulled over your head, heavy black fabric falling to the side of the bed in which you lay now. The sheets providing your shivering body with softness and a semblance of warmth. Alhaitham presses tender kisses down the nape of your neck, stopping between the valley of your breast to push your body further up the bed.

Larger hands ran along the length of your legs, as if to warm them up with the slow friction. Your legs gave no resistance as he places one over his shoulder, lips brushing against your knee.

You let out a small sigh, the skin-on-skin contact was just what your frozen body needed. Your body twisted further into his sheets, your other leg pressed against the back of his hip as if to spur him to hasten his pace. However, Alhaitham, being the steadfast man he is, ignored your neediness and continued to trail kisses down your soft skin. His mouth ended his journey with a slow and deep lap at your clit, causing your body to jolt.

“Mmm.”

Your skin has thawed, every nerve now acutely aware of each slow lick his wet tongue brushed against your sensitive bud. You no longer had any pride to uphold, thus moans just freely flowed out of your mouth just as how slick dripped from your aching hole. Once more you dug your heel into him, your neglected walls yearning for attention.

This time he was merciful, running one thick finger along the slick pooling between your folds. Gathering up the dew and tracing small circles along the entrance.

A whine followed, you twisted even more along the tussled sheets, reaching a hand down to tangle into his ashen locks. Alhaitham gave you want you wanted, slowly his thick finger was welcomed into your eager walls as his tongue continued to play with your clit. Your head was thrown back, heavy pants fogging up the room in the air, lidden eyes barely anything but the back of your head.

Another finger was soon added, stretching out your leaking hole only leaving your gummy walls craving more. A few soft kisses were pressed against your now twitching bud, before his skilled tongue took over for the final push toward nirvana. With practiced precision his fingers swiftly pressed against that spongey patch, making white flames shoot up your spine. Your quivering legs and curling toes didn’t faze Alhaitham in the slightest.

“OH!”

With a firm tug to ashen locks and one final flick to your swollen clit, your eyes meet the back of your head, a stretched moan bounced off the walls. Back arched almost painfully off the bed, Alhaitham continued the slow thrust of his soaked fingers into your contracting hole. As you rode the waves of pleasure back down, Alhaitham finally detaches his lips from your cunt, a slick trail connecting them.

The burning between your legs didn’t stop. You needed more, legs wrapping around his muscular torso, urging him to give you more. His self-control all but turns into dust in your presence. There’s not a plausible scenario where he could ever deny you. Finally, his leaking member can have its turn.

Fighting against the restraints of your legs, Alhaitham was able to pull the condom over his full length. Your hole jolted with joy the moment it felt his fat tip pressing up against your entrance. The slow circling before he finally sunk in, in an instant your walls clung onto every inch he pushed in, thanking him with pulsing contractions.

He sucked in a long hiss from how your warm, slick walls perfectly hugged him. You let your tongue loll out with a deep moan, legs pulling his body closer so that your arms could find purchase around his broad shoulders.

His pace was slow and deep, warming your walls up so as to not hurt the delicate you. This greatly displeased you, evident by how your nails dug into the solid muscle of his shoulders. You need it fast, you wanted it deep, you wanted him to pound those bitter thoughts away with his thick member. Two hands clasped around your hips, snapping your body tightly against his. He’ll grant your request.

“Ah! Ah! AH!”

His merciless pace had your breast bouncing and incomprehensible words babbling out of your lips. Heavy cock dragging out along your grasping walls, then slamming his hips harshly against your sobbing cunt. Every punishing thrust was welcomed by your slick walls thanking him. His heavy pants fanned across your ear as he continued this ruthless speed.

Your body was now burning, precipitation hanging heavy in the air, yet you still arched your back off the bed to chase after his warmth. Bodies entangled in a mess of limbs in an animalistic chase after pleasure and orgasm.

The wet noises of your weeping hole welcoming him back in over and over again. In between the heavy slaps of his balls against your sloppy cunt and thick tip bullying your poor spot, you could feel the deep vibrations in his chest.

“Look at me.” You felt him pull away just a bit so he could have a clear view of your loose face.

You didn’t want to. Lest his searching teal eyes discover the truth of why you pulled him into bed, to give him the satisfaction. You squeezed your lids closed. The particularly deep thrust he snapped displayed his displeasure at your actions.

“Please.” The unfamiliar words coming from his mouth made your eyes wide again. The tone is gentle.

So, with your resolve weakened, you finally connected with his gaze. What was that look in his eyes? It was too soft to be malice, too calm to be anger, too tender to just be lust. Yet your pleasure-melted brain couldn’t process it.

In gratitude for you granting his wish, his thumb found its way to your swollen clit, rubbing deep circles into the sensitive nerve. You pressed yourself impossibly hard against his body, walls clamping down on his thick member.

His actions made the knot inside your stomach pull against itself taught until the treads of sanity snapped. Even though your eyes were rolled to the back of your head, all you could see was the blinding white light of cloud nine. Your walls clamped down around him like a vise, snug walls now binding his length. Alhaitham clenches his jaw, stoic face twisted in the throws of pleasure as he spills himself into the barrier deep within.

Long fingers painting the sides of your hips red as he recomposes himself. Chest heaving from the exertion. He helps himself to a few more slow thrusts in your gummy walls, riding out his own orgasm even as his red tip teetered on the edge of pain and pleasure. Your soft thighs still entrapping his towering frame. It looks like you still haven’t come down yet.

Alhaitham’s hand gently cupped your messy face. Your lips were off limits, so he shall kiss those bitter tears away from your eyes instead.

Like always you woke up before Alhaitham again. However, this time you couldn’t bear to look at his face. Was this out of embarrassment, shame, or guilt? You didn’t know and didn’t care.

Unwrapping his arms from around your waist, you hobbled towards the clack lump of your dress. The fabric was still ever so slightly damp, ah, the sensation against your skin made the bitter bile restart its journey again.

You couldn’t help the envy that bubbled up in your system as you observed the spacious halls of Alhaitham’s house. Footsteps softly tap along the polished wood floors so as not to awaken the sleeping homeowner.

Of course, he has a nice house in the most upscale neighborhood. Of course, it's located in a quiet suburb a commutable distance away from the raucous city. Of course, it has nice big windows and expensive dark wood furnishings.

Of course. Of course. Of course. It’s because he’s Alhaitham. He’s got everything.

Your face scrunched up as bitterness crept up from the back of your tongue. It wasn’t from the bitter waters of regret, no, it was from a certain green-eyed creature. You needed to leave this house as soon as possible before you did something foolish.

You dug your hand into your purse for your phone, ready to call a lift back to your shabby apartment. It was all becoming too much. Just at the end of the hall, you could spot the solid oak doors that blocked off the outside world. Get out of this cage and breathe the fresh air.

You no longer cared about the noise your steps were making, thumps echoed throughout the halls frantically carrying you toward the shiny knob. A shaky hand grasped onto the cold smooth metal, ready to twist the deadbolt free. A glimmer of white coming from the side room caught your eye, reeling it back from its tunnel vision. Your head couldn’t help but follow.

It was a grand piano.

His former roommate was right, the white lacquer finish on the piano contrasted harshly against the dark wood bookshelves. It really did look out of place, taking up too much space in the side library. The dark walnut wood piano seat looked odd next to it as well.

The viridescent seat cushion looked a bit worn as if it had been sat in regularly. Still, the pearly finish that reflected the morning rays beckoned you closer, the sense of nostalgia growing stronger with each step.

It looked exactly like your old piano, your most cherished treasure that had been plundered from you so long ago. Trembling hands ran along the glossy fallboard, not a speck of dust was found along the paths of your fingers. You caught sight of the gold lettering inscribed along the front, it was even the same brand.

The pull of intrigue was too great, you had to know, but do you dare? Why are you lifting your hopes up so high? Have you not learned your lesson after being dropped over and over again onto the cold pavement of disappointment below? Maybe you were some type of masochist. Just like Schrodinger’s cat, you can’t confirm if those hopes were dead or alive until you opened the lid.

A resounding creek rang out from the protesting hinges, the lacquered lid heavy as if trying to conceal the truth away from your searching eyes. But your determination beat out any old hinges, lifting the heavy top above your head. Your breathing halted.

Property of Bookworm and Earworm

It was written clear as day on the naked wood concealed by the glossy outer casing. Clumsy letters scribbled in harsh black permanent marker. The proof of authenticity. This is your treasured piano.

Your arm lost all strength, the heavy lid slammed down reverberating all the strings and hammers in a chaotic symphony of shock. The clashing vibrations pierced your ears, causing the ringing that was now the background music to the realization crashing down upon you.

All this time, Alhaitham stayed himself. His unfazed individuality moved through life to the metronome of his own heart. Like a firm apple tree whose roots held the ground below him together. The fruits of his labor dropping down to satiate a heart hungry for encouragement.

The shiny red fruits were given at every meeting, in exchange for every CD and performance attended. All this time, he never once looked at you with pity nor disdain. He treasured you.

And what have you given in return? You participated in gossip behind his back. You looked at him with the same prejudice you promised to defend him from. You broke your promises to him. You lied to him. You used him, even down to his physical body to further your own self-interests.

When did the whispers of a green-eyed monster turn you into that selfish child from the storybook?

If your past self was there to witness the scene in front of her, she’d be appalled. She’d beat you with hatred at the torment you put her beloved friend through. Yes, she’d hate you. You hate you. You’ve never hated yourself more.

How could you do this to him? You really are your parent’s child. You never considered how the shrapnel of consequences from your actions would wound those close by.

You couldn’t even look at the reflection staring back at you from the polished white surface, her eyes stared back at you with malice. You were a selfish traitor.

Too self-absorbed in your own wallowing to notice the slow steps approaching from down the hallway. Alhaitham’s steps were slow as he stared at the back of your figure. Like a watcher trying not to startle a resting songbird. Rubbing the remnants of sleep from his eyes, making sure he wasn’t just looking at the afterimage of a person who had long left the house.

A small creak was all it took for your head to snap toward his approaching figure. Eyes wide and shaking. Alhaitham made sure to stop a arms length away as he accesses the situation. It looks like you’ve discovered his small secret. A fragment of the past that he relentlessly searched for, the only time he ever asked anything of your parents. He planned to return it to you one day.

You looked like you could collapse at any moment, so Alhaitham held out his hand, palms open and awaiting. You reached a quivering hand out, pulling back slightly a few times before finally landing. Your fingers clasped onto each other, you drew closer to his board figure until your forehead was resting against his chest. You didn’t dare look at his face.

He made no further moves.

“I’m sorry…I’m so sorry… I’m so fucking sorry.” Your mouth couldn’t stop spewing the regrets deep from your heart.

Even though you were apologizing, you didn’t want him to forgive you. You couldn’t even forgive yourself, how could he? It would be easier if he just hated you. If he were to just say ‘I hate you’ right now with that stoic voice of his, you could die peacefully. The best end that you deserved. You could feel the wet spots forming on his shirt from your tears.

“I won’t forgive you.” The vibrations from his deep voice were felt against you.

Four words cut into you deeper than any knife ever could. But you deserved this pain. Your bottom lip clenched tightly between your teeth, on the verge of splitting open from how hard you were biting back your cries. You didn’t deserve to cry.

“Not until you play Overture to Mozart's Marriage of Figaro.”

Those words halted your breathing. Like a rope that’s been thrown down the dark well you were wallowing in. Will your hands reach out and grasp onto this opportunity? Slowly you lifted your gaze up. Something behind the calm teal of his eyes was egging you on to do so, to take a hold of the lifeline thrown down from the bright sky.

“… Of course.” You let go of him.

Moving back over to your grand piano. Lifting the smaller section of the lid first this time placing it gently back on the larger section, allowing the music rack to appear. Setting up the notches into position, you then lifted the heavy back lid up. Placing the prop up this time so as to not put your piano through the same chaos again.

Finally, the dustfree fallboard was lifted up, revealing the keyboards that held the faint imprints of history. You settled your self-down at the bench, your hands hesitantly reaching out only for your fingers to retract the moment your soft tips brushed against the smooth ivory. The bitter shame of failure scorching your delicate senses.

Inhaling a deep breath, you turned to face Alhaitham reconnecting with his teal gaze as he stayed in place. A silent plead. With quiet steps, he approaches closer to the bench, the wooden protested under the added weight. Two bodys not touching, facing in opposite directions. Ah, just like a familiar scene from many years ago.

Once more, you attempted to reach out your fingers, emboldened by the soothing body heat of the man besides you. Placing your fingers back into position, the scorning of your finger tips becoming irrelevant. Lulling you to return back into the blackness of your sanctuary of mind. Recalling the song that symbolized a period of great change, wonderful change.

The pressed keys played their notes, the hammers inside your piano striking against the string. Ringing out the awful tones of stings that have gone out of tune from years of unuse. Even if it stung you ears and his the same, you continued to play the chipper overture. The bitter bile fizzling out like sea form, as laughter tickled the inside of your throat.

“It sounds terrible.” You giggled honestly.

“Mm. I’m not all that familiar with performance etiquette, but I’m certain talking during a show is bad manners.” There was no bit to his words. You couldn’t see his face, you could hear the smile.

Two hearts now closer than previously, became the metronome for the off-key rendition of Mozart's Marriage of Figaro, accompanied by the bright giggles of the pianist and the content sigh of her audience. Outside the window, a songbird chirps to greet the beautiful sun that resurfaced after a day of rain.

He absolutely adores you, he always has. He knows that you know now. But he also knows that you weren’t ready to hear it. The weight of three small words would be enough to topple the stability of your consciousness. It wasn’t strong enough to handle them, not after the mangling hands of guilt and regret vandalized it.

So he won’t say those three words, not yet, not until you’ve repaired your cracking foundations. Alhaitham will wait to tell you ‘I love you’. Like a patient tree standing on the hill biding its time for the return of a beloved creature.

Fin~

DON’T PLAGIARIZE, REPOST, OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS.

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kazutora-kurokawa · 5 months

Note

HELLO! How are you? I'm glad your requests are open again

This is the 367473 time I try to make a request but Tumblr just couldn't-

Anyways, I wanna make a request for Tr boy with a Musician S/O (Baji, Draken, Mickey and Izana) to be more specific, a classically trained Pianist.

I'm a Pianist as well, so I would like to know how they would react to their S/O being always busy with rehearsal and recitals

Thank you so much, and I'm sorry for my bad English, it's not my first language 🙏

TokRev x Pianist!Reader

♡ SFW, gn reader, fluff, arson, reader is a busybody with a flooded schedule ♡

Characters: Baji, Mikey, Draken, Izana

note: thanks for requesting and trust me, your English is perfectly fine 🩷 also sorry for the delay lol

❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀

Baji

🔥 Thinks that you playing the piano is super cool because he could never do it (he doesn't have the patience)

🔥 He'll show up to your recitals loud as hell and end up getting kicked out (he'd bring Chifuyu with him too lol)

🔥 He doesn't mind you being busy, as long as you actually make an effort to spend time with him

🔥 If you don't make time, he'll make time for you by burning down the recital hall 🤭 (nah but seriously don't test him because he will do it)

Mikey

💠 He's so clingy, so your tight schedule gets him mad sometimes

💠 He'll whine about it and beg you to reschedule whatever you have going on (he hits you with the puppy dog eyes and the lip pout 😭)

💠 He'll pop up at a few of your recitals and either fall asleep because it's so peaceful or tear up because it's so beautiful (he'll bury his face in his jacket if he starts feeling teary eyed though)

Draken

🐉 Draken loves listening to you play the piano, he'll come over just to hear the sweet melodies and watch your fingers gracefully navigate the keys

🐉 He's at every recital, sitting quietly and cheering you on when it's over (literally everyone in the audience is intimidated by him at first because since when did gang members like classical music? 🤨)

🐉 He doesn't mind your schedule, he even drives you to and from practice

Izana

🎴 He already plays guitar so he knows how consuming learning an instrument can be, albeit not to your extent

🎴 He doesn't mind your schedule, but he makes sure to always keep an eye on you, whether that be showing up at recitals or stalking you to and from practice

🎴 He'll take time out of his schedule to try to learn piano just to impress you

❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀

Taglist

@arlerts-angel @i-literally-cant-with-this @trevengersprincess @giugiette @katkusuo @happy-trenchcoated-impala @drunkcheesecake @darkstarlight82 @reiners-milkbiddies @manji-hoe

#tokyo revengers headcanons #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers fluff #baji x reader #izana x reader #draken x reader #mikey x reader #baji fluff #izana fluff #draken fluff #mikey fluff #Baji is so real for that honestly 😭 he's that one supportive friend who means well but also fucks shit up for themselves lmao #smut up next y'all 🙌🏽#if you're still reading the tags Ily lol 🩷

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rafeyscurtainbangs · 28 days

Text

Espresso or Coors? – Rafe Cameron Blurb

+18 (Fluff – strong language, drug usage, and drinking)

Frat!Rafe x PianoBar!Reader

+18

🪄 soft!frat!rafe, swearing, name-calling, smoking, drinking, Rafe & reader’s POV

📖 Frat!Rafe gets talked into going to a dueling piano bar. He’s not happy about it but when he sees you in the alley, walking in for your shift, everything changes. From that point on he tries all night to get your attention 💕

✨Kelce: yo

Topper: that's her???

Kelce: look at his face

My cheeks burn with embarrassment. I take a deep breath, collecting myself before burying my beer, quickly ordering another. Be cool.

Rafe: that obvious?

Kelce: very

Rafe’s POV:

“5th and main?” The Uber driver drones.

“Yup. Thanks, man,” Topper chirps, stepping into the back seat before me. The Uber XL fills with people, as many as possible. I slide into the back; some sorority girl instantly falls onto my lap. Her tanned body mashes against my white button-down, making me tug at my fabric to check if that shit was staining before throwing the fit I wanna throw.

“Top, you short on cash these days or what? Why couldn’t we get another van, asshole?”

“There’s another comin’. You coulda waited,” Topper sighs, half-listening, concentrating more on the girl sharing a seat with him. “Plus, it looks like you made out just fine,” he cracks up, watching the girl staring up at me, her sticky glossed lips pressing against my neck soon after. I pinch my eyes shut, focusing on anything but this. Yeah, I’m not drunk enough for this.

“It’s called the Dueling Keys. Tell her we’re going to Dueling Keeyyyss,” one of the girls slurs into her phone to a friend on the other line.

I groan and grumble, “I thought we were going to Copperhead. What the fuck, Thornton.”

Topper lifts his hands, pleading innocence. “That’s where we were going, bro. Ask the man.” He motions to the driver, who’s lost in his own world, tuning out the nightmare in the back of his van entirely.

“It’s across the street, Rafe. It’s a piano bar. We always start there because they have $3 Long Islands,” Cassie adds calmly, my favorite of the sisters, the only sober one in the group.

“Thanks, sweetheart,” I sigh, taking out my phone, making myself look busy.

“You smell so good, Rafey,” the drunk girl in my lap mutters as she plays with the top button of my shirt “sensually,” tugging it open before working on the next.

“That’s enough,” I sigh, resting my hand over the top of hers, giving it a little pat. “Thanks.”

We pull up to College Street, cool air replacing the thick, booze-ridden fog of the van. I walk out fast, putting space between me and the girls. I need some fuckin’ air, but they follow me. “I’m takin’ a piss,” I yell back at the two tagging close behind.

“You need help or-” One of them grins, making the other giggle and squeal. Jesus fuckin’ Christ.

I walk to the end of the building, fading into the alley, resting my back against the cool brick wall, finally feeling peace. The other van rolls up; Kelce, steps out of the ride with a girl on each arm, thoroughly relishing this shit. I pluck a joint out from behind my ear, flicking my lighter a few times before it takes, ripping a hit. Thick smoke rolls in my mouth, pouring from my lips as I look out at the mess of college student coming in and out of bars.

“Thank you, Donnie,” my head turns in the opposite direction, catching sight of a woman walking toward the side door. She smiles at the security guard, her little heels clicking along the pavement, hair bouncing with every step.

“Babygirl,” the man booms merrily, making her beautiful eyes sparkle. “How are you doin’ this evening. You look as lovely as ever.”

“Thank you,” she smiles. Her spangly pink dress sways with every step as she goes up the steps ‘til she’s gone, disappearing into the bar.

“Hey, man… Does she work-”

“Stop right there,” the bouncer warns, taking a few steps closer. “I don’t need some drunk frat boy causin’ trouble in my alley. Get the fuck outta here,” he spits, looking back at me like I’m trash.

“Sorry. I’m just-”

“Smokin’ weed? Takin’ a piss? I heard it all, Chad. Y/N doesn’t want your messy ass.”

Well shit… I smile, ashing out the joint as I catch her.

“What are you smilin’ for, boy? Get! And pick that shit up. Do I look like your maid or somethin’?” He barks as he points to the joint on the ground, making me roll my eyes before picking it up.

“Have a nice night, Donnie,” I mumble, giving him the finger as I foot away.

My nerves start to rise, my night taking a turn. I double-check my shirt again for an orange stain, smoothing it out before adjusting my hat. She has to be a bartender, a cocktail waitress, maybe? I position myself away from the Delta Gammas, joining the group of boys in the back of the line.

We shuffle to the front, the music getting louder and louder as we get closer to the door. I pass a bouncer my ID, impatiently waiting to get inside. Luckily, I’m a head taller than most, surveying the scene, following the traffic flow from the entryway to the bar floor. Top flags me down, but I look past him; he and Kelce, lost in a sea of females. I wouldn’t stand a goddamn chance in there. Not if I want her to notice me.

Perfect. I slide into a booth with a group of my younger brothers, the four of them equally surprised that the kook trio got split. “A Coors, please. N’ you can start a tab for the table. Thanks,” I pass the cocktail waitress my card as my phone buzzes.

Topper: we good

I look down at the text message from Top, rolling my eyes.

Kelce: you bein a bitch for a reason or what

Rafe: ill tell you later

Kelce: so ur pissed

Rafe: I’m not fuckin pissed

Topper: you seem upset

Rafe: shut the duck up

Rafe: fuxk

Rafe: fuck

Kelce: how drunk are you 😂

Rafe: leave me alone alright. There’s a girl somewhere around here and she’s perfect and I don’t want these girls fucking it up for me

Topper: oh that’s great buddy

Kelce: congrats man

Rafe: keep them over there

Piano music fills the space around us, silencing the crowd before a swell of applause comes in it’s place. I look up from my beer, seeing the same beautiful girl from the alley behind the piano, canceling out all my previous assumptions. Fuck. I lift my drink to my lips, catching my hand shaking slightly. She leans into the microphone, her smile lighting up the room, drumming up further applause. “Dueling Keys, how are we feeling tonight?” She lets the cheering die down before starting again, introducing the man across from her, then herself.

Kelce: yo

Topper: that’s her???

Kelce: look at his face

My cheeks burn with embarrassment. I take a deep breath, collecting myself before burying my beer, quickly ordering another. Be cool.

Rafe: that obvious?

Kelce: very

Topper: do the thing

Rafe: what thing?

The thing? Are you kidding me, Top. What thing?

Another group of ours walks into the pub, catching Topper and Kelce’s focus. I feel myself getting anxious and annoyed, wanting to get her attention in some way before anyone fucks this up for me.

Rafe: tell me the thing

Kelce: order a song cameron

Topper: $5 for a song and you can leave a tip

Rafe: how

Kelce: haven’t you done this before

Rafe: …

Kelce: grab a little thing from the middle write your name and the song

Rafe: any song?

Topper: idk the rules

Kelce: there’s rules.

Rafe: what are they??

Kelce: idk ive never done this before

Rafe: duck u both

Rafe: FUCK*

I take out my wallet, thumbing through my cash: $20, $50, $100. No… What do I do now? $20 isn’t enough. Or is it? $100, I’ll look like an ass. $50… $50. Yeah – Yeah. Shit.

I quickly stuff the cash into the envelope, looking down at the next obstacle. Name… Easy. Rafe. Song. I want it to be something she likes. Something she wants to sing. I don’t wanna be some “Chad, dick, douchebag” requesting Chainsmokers. I look up, so lost in my mind that I missed the first song. Jesus fuck. Pull it together, Rafe.

Topper: Cassie says she likes Sabrina Carpenter

Rafe: how does she know that

Topper: idk I asked who’s that and she said give me 2 minutes. She found her IG

Rafe: Tell her I love her and text me the yn’s @

Topper: Espresso

Rafe: I’m drinking coors

Toppers: its a song

Kelce: 😂

Rafe: thank you Cass

I scribble down the track’s title on the envelope, rising to my feet, heading straight for the front. “Hi, Rafey,” I dodge the sorority sister coming my way, swerving around a bar top table to avoid her, hastily stepping toward the stage.

“This next one’s for Nate,” y/n announces, squinting to get a better look at the chicken scratch handwritten left by one of my frat brothers. “What does this say, babe?” She asks kindly.

“Party in the USA,” he hollers over the crowd.

“Oh, well then. Miley, it is,” she croons as she rolls out her wrists, fingers quickly striking the keys. Her voice pours out of the speakers, sending goosebumps down my arms.

The vocals are so trained; so beautiful it’s like she wrote the song herself. I can tell she’s adding a little more to it, making it her own without effort. Amazi- “Put the envelope in the bowl and sit down,” an old lady scolds me, tugging at the hem of my shirt.

“S-Shit. Sorry,” I scramble. Taking the last couple steps to the fishbowl full of requests, my eyes not leaving y/n. Her gaze lifts as she looks for her partner, catching my eyes instead. I smile, and she smiles back.

So damn beautiful.

Fuck me.

“Sit,” the old lady hisses, jarring me out of my daze. I suck my teeth and smile at her before looking back at y/n; her attention already pulled away, making me feel like I could fight an old lady in public. Bitch.

I sit down with the boys again, just hoping she’ll pull my request right away so I can loosen up a little, sip on a beer while I listen to her perform. Finally, something goes my way. Y/n opens the little envelope, eyeing the cash inside, flashing it to her partner between her pretty little manicured fingers.

“50 bucks? They must really wanna hear that song, y/n.”

“I guess so,” she giggles delightedly as she flips the card over. “Ohhh… A man after my own heart. Rafe, this one for you.”

My name leaves her lips, making my stomach flip. Adrenaline courses through my veins as she looks out into the crowd, searching for me. The boys must have been pointing me out because she finds me quickly, giving me a little nod. This night couldn’t get any better. I don’t know this song. I’ve never heard this shit a day in my life, but I can tell you it’ll be playin’ on repeat after this. The crowd sings along with her, y/n feeding off their energy.

Her voice is the prettiest thing I’ve ever heard, so bubbly and sweet as she nails each note. The song is catchy, too… Nothin’ I’d ever listen to but she’s making me feel like I could. She is so fucking talented. Maybe she plans on recording her own shit one day.

The song closes out, and the crowd breaks into applause “Earth to Rafe. Rafe?” A girl screams at me, apparently battling for my attention. “We’re going to Copperhead. Close your tab.”

“I just ordered a beer,” I lie. “Just go. I’ll meet you. Yeah?”

“No… Come,” she pouts, holding out her arms, giving me grabby hands. Fuck that.

“Who are you?” I scoff.

“Who am I? Who am I?” She starts to go off, but Topper yanks her away. That was close. The masses finally leave, lifting a massive weight off my shoulders. I widen my thighs, relaxing into my seat a little more.

It’s a euphoric rotation: watching her play and sing, performing for the crowd with her witty conversations alone. She’s got a beautiful laugh and a beautiful personality. Everything about her is beautiful. She notices me. I know it… It’s like we’re the only two here, I swear.

Reader’s POV:

Rafe… Fuck, he’s handsome. He’s a frat, bro, for sure, but he didn’t leave with that crowd. He asked about me… I’m almost positive enlisting some help from the army of sorority sisters he showed up with. Rafe doesn’t strike me as a Sabrina Carpenter guy. You laugh to yourself, thinking about it, looking into the crowd as you meet his eyes for the nth time of the night.

All set, I couldn’t help perform for him. Sure, I was entertaining a crowd, but each movement, each smile, each love song was performed just for him. I wanted him to feel like he knew me better at the end of the night, and each little adlib between my co-performer and me gave him a little more of my story: a music major with big dreams of becoming a recording artist.

Now I want to know his story.

He’s only requested one song. The night’s almost over, two requests left in the bowl. Rafe pulls out a card, writing something before stuffing some cash inside. He stands up, walking your way, making it through the crowd a little easier than he did the first time; a little more confidence in his walk.

Your heart starts to race, hands trembling on the keys. You position yourself on the bench, leaning in a little closer. He hands it directly to you with a smile. The boys at his table hoop and holler, whistling for him, making your cheeks heat up, nervous butterflies swirling in your stomach that you don’t usually have on the stage. Oh my god.

He gives you a little more of him this time: Name – Rafe Cameron

Song – Dreams Fleetwood Mac

this is my favorite song 🙂

You open the envelope, taking out another $50, but the little message on the flap has you tucking it in your bra instead of tossing it away when you see his phone number. Rafe smiles from the booth when you return your eyes to his, happy you kept it, taking a sip from his cup when the boys at his table start razzing him about it all.

Dreams. Huh? Not what I expected. There’s something sweet about it, though. It’s not exactly something a frat boy would choose. Maybe there’s a story there. Maybe he’ll tell me tonight? You search for the sheet music on your iPad, setting it up as Rex riffs. “And, who’s the next one for, y/n,” he smiles over the baby grand.

“Rafe Cameron,” you smile, your coworker catching onto your crush fast.

“The Rafe Cameron. Huh? The high roller?”

“The high roller. Mhmm… quite the charmer,” you add.

“Is he free after the show?”

“Rex,” you chuckle breathily. “This one’s mine.” Rex laughs and rolls his eyes, continuing to play with you, the two of you going back and forth, duetting different songs you can both play by ear.

“Well, is he free after the set?” Rex repeats himself dramatically, making the crowd break out in applause. You turn to Rafe and smile.

“Are you free after the set?” You ask sweetly. The blonde smiles and nods, mouthing that he’s all yours. All mine…

You break out into song, playing Rafe’s request, the two of you dueling back and forth, filling the bar with music. You steal glances at Rafe between cords and runs, enjoying the moment, thinking about how nice it would be to have someone in the crowd every night—especially someone who looks at you like he does.

He’s perfect.

YN: Meet me out back? 💕 Are you hungry?

Rafe: on my way. Yeah. Anything you want, princess

Fuck. You bite your bottom lip, reading and rereading Rafe’s message. Princess… It’s just another thing I could get used to. You check yourself in the mirror one last time, slicking on a little lip gloss and fluffing your hair.

You walk through the practically empty bar to the side door, some patrons still hanging around, sipping martinis and beer. You push through the door, Donnie pulling it the rest of the way open per usual, his face hard as stone, not his normal self. “Are you okay?” You ask uneasily, cocking an eyebrow up at him. He simply nods in the other direction, gesturing to someone. Rafe Cameron…

“You know him, baby?” Donnie rasps, looking at you with nothing but concern in his eyes

“Mhmm, Don. This is Rafe. He’s my date-”

“You know he was gonna piss on the side of the building before I stopped him?” Donnie cautions you, making Rafe scoff and laugh weakly.

“He wouldn’t be the first,” you chuckle as you adjust your purse on your shoulder, stepping toward Rafe.

“And he was smokin’ dope.”

“It was a pre-roll, y/n. Just a little weed,” Rafe mumbles, doing his best not to laugh at the older man.

“Naughty boy,” you tease as you slide your arm around Rafe’s waist, giving him a side hug. Rafe wraps his strong arms around your shoulders, pulling you in the rest of the way, holding you close. You take in his rich cologne; the feeling of your body wrapped up in him. Rafe lowers himself, whispering in your ear, setting your heart ablaze.

“Why don’t we get outta here, Princess?”

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#rafe cameron #outer banks #rafe #obx #rafe x fem!reader #rafeyscurtainbangs library 📚#rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe fluff #rafe cameron fluff #rafe x reader #rafe cameron x reader #rafe blurb #rafe fanfiction

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beehunterkisser · 8 days

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Have you watched the season 2 premieres of Hamster and Gretel?

I HAVE!!! Im assuming you want to know what i thought of em so spoiler warning for any dwampyheads who havent watched it yet. LOOK OUT!!!! also this is long as hell so be careful

Hakuna Ma Kevin

ok first and foremost. the ANIMATION WAS INCREDIBLE I WAS SO SHOCKED.. The budget mustve been crazy everything was so smooth. It really impressed me.. especially the action scenes and the hair movements. it was all super good

his va did a great job of being like annoyingly calm. its so kevin to somehow take a relaxation camp way too seriously (also the fact his life was so ruined by his date with hiromi flopping that he had to go on a 2 week retreat to find inner peace).

i was actually really interested in how they were gonna tackle that but a timeskip makes sense.

skip past kevins initial extreme misery and leave it up for the audience to make up. i am still curious as to what his friendgroup looks like because. did thjey stop hanging out. ARE hiromi and kevin too awkward to see eachother. anthony and fred are children of divorce. its so sad. well we'll see what happened eventually

It was great to see veronica hill back again too i missed my queen. i hope she finds love on the open sea.

actually speaking of that i was so sure that that was gonna be the boat from that sinking feeling and it was going to change the trajectory of the dwampyverse timeline forever but i think that was just a tease or a really really vague reference

the villain was also incredibly funny. great voicework too im sure it was some guest voice or something that i just dont recognize because it just feels that way to me.

great guy hope he comes back. and the reocurring THERE ARE NO LAWS ON INTERATIONAL WATERS BABY was actually funny.

also i cant not mention the CANON DWAMPYVERSE LESBIANS were BACK BABY women FIND EACHOTHER AT CLAM FEASTS ITS REAL AND TRUE.

it really made me happy to see that especially since i was so positive that we werent gonne get any rep from dwampyverse but obviously im WRONG and there are 2 beautiful women loving eachother and eating clams out there.

he played it so cool too. an ally.

I was almost disappointed the song was so early because i wanted a dramatic clam musical number but thats literally minimal complaint i have about that episode because it was such a strong opener.

also congrats to the newlyweds lunchlady and piano key vendor i think they will have a long lasting and beautiful relationship.

also when i saw those 2 old man leaving i was like wow are we getting a double whammy with gays but that was just a cameo. next time though

The Great American Telenovella

THE RETURN OF MY QUEEN. the opening in the hospital made me think it was gonna go in a completely different direction.

Both of these episodes had the songs super early on interestingly enough. i didnt even realise the Fresas De Amor theme song was THE song of the episode. i thought it was just a jingle..

i was really happy that we got a carolina-centered (well a stretch but she was there a lot) episode. i really like her.

the animation was back to normal in this episode too which was a little sad and maybe skewed my opinion of the episode a little bit but not TOO much. i think.

despite being tricked on where the episode was going the gimmick with making fun of telenovella tropes was really really fun.

it felt almost like a rarity investigates type thing where they get really into character trope LOL

the first lady they interrogated (THE VILLAIN IS THE VILLAIN!!) had such a great design too i really like her.. the whole bit with her abandoning the show to become a taco crunchies commercial star was great too she gagged me.

and also her being like ok ill just sit here and watch all my personal belongings burn. I giggled..i cant lie..i did giggle a little...

ok i cannot dance around it any longer but THE RETURN OF LA CEBOLLA. I REALLY DIDNT THINK ITD BE THIS EARLY I WAS SO HAPPY.

i saw her in the back as the lunchlady and i knew everything was going to be ok.. I was safe in her hands..

also her powers were used super clever i really enjoyed the Onion Fists. and also the dramatic shot of hamster getting concussed by an onion.

this kind of goes back to me being shocked the telenovella intro was the episodes song because i was really hoping we'd get another la cebolla number akin to fighting facial hair again

i also get another shot of her lying in a hospital bed. the one from her song is literally one of my favourite pictures ever so its great to have another equally as bizarre one

shes definitely maybe my FAVOURITE hng villain so it was great to see her again.

im biased so i wished she had gotten more time to shine but also i think that entire scene with hamster pretending to be her son la cebollito.

it was really funny karina did great with the line delivery there. i loved how she was like But why are you so small!??!?!?! i love that she runs on telenovella logic. a true method actor

i really did enjoy that episode but hakuna ma kevin really felt like the stronger episode to me maybe SOLEY because of the animation. im an artist im easily pleased. they cant just tease me with god tier animated hng and then rip it from my hands as soon as i get it. its ok...ill get over it..ill forget it soon... (single tear falls from my eye)

I HOPE THAT WAS READABLE i might do more of these for the rest of the episodes as they release its actually really fun. we;re so back. hng season 2 Is already peak. Its my favourite dwampy show for a reason. i am hng strongest warrior. WERE SO BACK

#words #long post #im so sorry for everyones dashboards that im about to ravage #hamster and gretel #hamster and gretel spoilers #hng spoilers #dwampyverse #hamster and gretel season 2 #hamster and gretel season 2 spoilers

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drarryspecificrecs · 6 months

Text

2024.03 ~ Top 7 longest fics posted on AO3

1. The Darkest of Times by @emeraldmarvel [?, 262k]

►At the Battle of Hogwarts, Harry Potter wakes up in the Forbidden Forest and is surrounded by Voldemort and his followers. However things go wrong very quickly once he tortures and enters Harry's mind which leads to him finding a lot of interesting information. Voldemort, now in control, marches to Hogwarts and changes everything. Harry now needs to fight off a lot of new demons, and he will need the help of someone he never expected to ever offer it.

2. Faking My Own Death by Chase_fanfics [E, 262k]

►Draco had dealt with enough death to make peace with his own. Getting a handle on his emo angst, he assumed his life would end after Dumbledore’s murder. He didn’t expect to keep living. He didn’t expect to find something, someone left living for. He didn’t expect to reach out to Harry Potter for help. Even more so, Draco didn’t expect to fall in love with him in doing so.

3. The Star Splitter by @oflights [E, 219k]

►On a routine time travel assignment to the past, Draco stumbles upon 7-year-old Harry Potter and witnesses his neglect and mistreatment by the Dursleys. In the moment, there is only one solution, even if it goes against all his training as a Time Agent: he has to bring Harry back to the future with him. /// In which Draco burns his life down for the sake of his former school rival.

4. Tales of the Potters by burningcherries [E, 139k]

►The war didn't entirely end with the Battle of Hogwarts. A year later, Head Auror Harry Potter resolves to sacrifice a little more of himself in the hope of putting an end to the countless acts of revenge between the two former sides. Following an ancient ritual, if he succeeds in founding a new bloodline with an old enemy, peace will be assured. /// A tale of two young men who are trying, of the wizarding world wonders and of hope in the dark.

5. Antidote for Love by CreateImagineWrite [E, 69k]

►Draco knows Harry is falling out of love with him. He just doesn’t know why.

6. Skybound by @xanthippe74 [T, 60k]

►No matter how much Harry Potter wanted to believe he’d left danger behind when the war ended, it found him again anyway. All he had to do was step out his own front door on a Tuesday morning. [...]

7. Truth to Materials by lately & @toomuchplor [E, 54k]

►In which Harry learns to appreciate art and other pleasures of the flesh.

—

※ Word count: 1k ~ 15k

※ Word count: 15k ~ 40k

an age old classic by kissyshima [G, 27k]

Anything You Wish For by corazon_san [E, 27k]

burning city hearts by sectumsempra [T, 28k]

Cargo Case by @sleepstxtic [E, 23k]

The Dorset House by pir8fancier [T, 28k]

Once More to See You by @kmskms123kms [T, 16k]

Play Me Like Your Favorite Song On Your Mother's Piano by @shewhomustnotbenamed [M, 32k]

Routine by @yulicchi-x [E, 18k]

A Sixth Sex Sense by Ace_Phoenix [E, 15k]

Stolen Virility by DarkQuartz [E, 18k]

When The Sun Loves The Moon by mik_exe [G, 16k]

You And Me Against The World by @dracowillhearaboutthis [T, 17k]

—

Ongoing Fest/Exchange

※ Fics would be listed elsewhere.

Fluff Fest: Dead Pigeon Edition

#drarry #drarry fanfic #drarry fic rec #harry potter #draco malfoy #monthly review #2024

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aixicl · 9 months

Text

See you again,

Bada Lee x fem reader

Summary: After you both agree to part ways, your paths cross unexpectedly.

Cw: exes :(, angst (?).

Wc: 6k.

Pls read : I’ve decided to put all parts (1 2 & 3) into one single fic because it’s not that long. For the babes that already read the first 2 parts, before the beginning of every chapter I added numbers so I’d be easier for you to scroll to your desired chapter🤍

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡

(1)

''So, you're going to be back soon. Right?''

Soobin asked, her tone uneasy. Even tho you told her numerous times that you won't just disappear forever and once the leaves begin to fall and change colors you'll rock the streets of Seoul again. Until then, you'll fly as far as your wings take you. It's not like you did anything wrong. You decided to leave after all.

''Wild, young & free'' as some would describe, as she would describe. Until you weren't free anymore, your thoughts kept you imprisoned in your mind.

''Yeah girlie, you know how hard I worked to get in.''

For a long time, you've wondered what you're into—having an identity crisis every time you see her dancing with such passion. You admire her wholeheartedly, but you can't help feeling jealous since there wasn't anything there for you. Your mom took you to piano classes, swimming, and even judo. She tried her best to expand your horizons and you're grateful for that but it never really worked out. Until in your early teens, you discovered your burning passion for writing, having the power to control every reply, scene, or character you desire. It's like the alphabet was made for you just to write cheeky stories that she would giggle at. Words being placed thoughtfully in your love letters to her.

''I can't wait for you to get back home. I will get reallyyy mad if we don't go out drinking before uni." The younger girl giggled over the phone. But the word ''home'' stuck to you like a bandage. You're the type of person that considers ''home'' wherever the heart is but where is your home when your heart is all over the place?

You're just lying to yourself. You know exactly where home is. Home was the queen-sized bed you once shared, with the messy sheets you were too lazy to arrange since you knew in less than 24 hours it would be the same. Home was the kitchen where you would fail yet another recipe trying to surprise her with a yummy meal after her dance class. Home was anywhere she was really. Too bad she’s so far away now. That doesn’t mean you’re homeless tho. Many tried to offer you a room in their hearts, but it just wasn’t the same. The best you could do was try. Going on dates, even being a fan of dating apps until you gave up. Her presence scarred you so deeply that you subconsciously compared every romantic interest to her, her jokes, her compliments, her touch, her way of being.

“Did she get in?” the girl who once was your biggest relationship enthusiast asked, knowing how the story unfolded.

“How am I supposed to know? Is there any reason I would be interested? I haven’t spoken to her in months.”

“Forget it, why are we even talking about her? Call me when you arrive. I’ll talk to Seoyoung and Taeyoung and maybe we can go out and have cheap drinks like we did back in the day!”

You had a happy childhood, loving parents and lots of friends and you even had a best friend since primary school! Funny how a best friend turns into someone you love and then into someone you don't know at all-isn't life funny?

During the past two months, you traveled around Europe. Finding beautiful places that make you enjoy the moment, finding beautiful people, beautiful moments. Peace. Traveling was one of the things you truly enjoyed. She once promised you’d go to Lyon and Basilicata together. You ended up going by yourself. Maybe it was better this way.

Even though you were surrounded by people there were still moments when you felt alone and rather than being sad, you tried to enjoy being by yourself and embrace the quiet. Your life was so noisy until it all just stopped. You just accepted it.

The familiar streets make the corners of your mouth turn upright. The convenience store right around the corner from your childhood apartment, the sun shining brightly on your street, and the kids that just left school flooding the now-crowded street gave you a familiar feeling. Comfort.

“You are so beautiful.” your mother said while embracing you tightly, clearly noticing the subtle changes in your looks. Your skin is now sun-kissed thanks to Sardinia beach, your hair is slightly shorter and darker since you couldn’t skip the hair salons in Paris, and your cheeks are more plump since you’re not the one to refuse a delicious dish.

“You just came back and you are leaving again in a few days. If you don’t come to visit me on Sundays I won’t send you any food ever again!” your mom said sarcastically. Truth is, you would like to spend more time with her but now you’re too caught up with the new school year starting.

You’re officially a student in creative writing & linguistics and even got accepted as #13. Your mother couldn’t help but brag to her friends about your success in joining such a prestigious university. She was shocked. She wasn’t aware you planned to join this university a long time ago, alongside her.

“How’s Bada? Are you guys still mad? Is an 11 year old friendship worth throwing away?”

Bada was well acquainted with your mother. Sometimes you thought your mom loves her more than she loves you. Bada infiltrated in your life so well that it came as a surprise to everybody that the two best friends who held hands just stopped talking. No reason behind it.

“You still haven’t told me what happened.”

“Mom please I just arrived home don’t make me wanna leave again” You came off as a bit harsh but Bada was a dead subject to you. At day you would pretend you never came across Bada Lee, at night you would remember the way her hands softly caressed your waist and how your lips perfectly fit hers. You cut her off exactly how your hair stylist cut your split ends in Paris. But hair always eventually grows back.

Your childhood bedroom became the center of your attention for the next seven days as you discovered many random things while packing for uni. Old textbooks from high school, many hair accessories, polaroids with her, some dried up hand cream. Small things that were core memories for you. Your room is being filled up with 2 types of carton boxes: to take & to throw.

Most of the items you decided to throw were just straight up trash, one of her baggy t-shirts that still had her scent on it being included. Some stuff you decided to keep was necessities, toiletries, some pictures you took together just in case you made up again, etc. She was already half out of your heart, the other half made sure your heart was beating rapidly only for her. Did she also throw out your stuff? Did she keep it??

Across the street, things were pretty much the same.

“Make sure you eat well. Did you pack everything?”

Mrs. Lee made sure to check up on her daughter. She was indeed a very caring mother.

The girl let out a loud sigh saying, “Yeah, I’ll check again before leaving. There's still plenty of time left."

“You always do that honey, wait until the last minute. Go check it now! We won’t have time to add everything to the boxes in the morning!” said the older woman worriedly.

She went back to her room. The framed picture on her desk watched her every move, constantly reminding her of what was. Something in her not being able to throw it away, it was already there for 2 years. But sometimes she did turn the photo upside down, usually when she had other women over.

It was her 17th birthday. Your smiles were brighter than the flashlight itself, your cheeks flushed after so many shots your mother would destroy you for drinking. It was the night your relationship exploded.

“Is it wrong that I really want to kiss you?” You asked quietly, embarrassed by how close she was, her body firmly pressing against yours.

“Why would it be?” she says flatly.

As you take a deep breath, you think to yourself: ''Fuck it.'' It doesn't take long for your hands to reach her face. You lean in and kiss her, feeling her heart racing against yours. She melts into your arms, immersing herself in your arms as you explore each other's lips. You pull away and look into her eyes, feeling a connection deeper than anything you've ever felt before. You both smile, savoring the moment and knowing that this is the beginning of something new. The color of your lipstick now staining her lips and her mind. She runs her fingers over your lips feeling the warmth and softness of your skin, as she says softly:

''This is how it's supposed to be."

You lean in and kiss her again, this time with more passion and intensity until you have to pull away to catch your breath. That was the first of many makeouts in Bada's bedroom.

In the first place, you were just supposed to change your shirt since somehow a glass of champagne ended up on your clothes, and Bada one way or another managed to trap you in front of the closet. Shit happens.

That night the now dried shirt stuck to your skin, the idea of anything else instead of the girl in front of you being long forgotten.

To be sincere, you always held the power to pull anything you wanted without really trying. And you pulled Bada Lee into a complete black hole that night. Unaware that your souls are tied so tightly that at one point they'll burst. And unfortunately, that happened faster than any of you anticipated.

(2)

''You're Y/N, right?" the thrilled girl asked. She had a unique appearance. The mole on her nose easily distinguished her from a crowd you thought. Flashy nails, long hair, bright clothes, and a bubbly personality were the main characteristics of your new roommate.

''Yeah! It seems like we're stuck together for a while. And you are?''

''I'm Hyerim, I'm in the dance department! I love your outfit! Where did you get that cardigan? This color looks flattering on you!" she says rapidly with a wide smile.

You hit the jackpot for the first time in a long time. On your way to the dorm, your thoughts are filled with the idea of having a demon as a roommate. You had already created a scenario of what to do just in case the person you need to spend the whole school year with together is insufferable. Thankfully, that wasn't the case. For the next 2 hours, you and Hyerim had a blast, talking about anything & everything while unpacking. You both laughed and joked around, and you felt a sense of relief when you realized you wouldn't have to deal with a roommate who wasn't pleasant. You two got along great and you were excited to spend the next year together. You just clicked. As the first week of school passed you realized Hyerim was the hyperactive little sister you never had.

''There's this party next door, one of my friends invited me.'' Your new friend proposed as her eyes sparkled with excitement. ''Do you want to go with me? My friend will bring her girlfriend and I don't want to be the third wheel." The girl pouts.

''Sure, I feel like drinking anyway.'' You said chuckling. Back in the day, you attended every party you possibly could, earning admirable alcohol tolerance. You're making people take notice of you tonight since you have the whole pack to survive a frat party.

You and Hyerim took your time carefully arranging every rhinestone around your eyes. There was a heated debate about what lipstick color would look best with her charismatic outfit.

As you stepped into the party, vibrant energy engulfed the house. The music filled every corner, blending with the laughter and already sweaty bodies of many young adults. The dorm was a mess, filled with more alcoholic drinks than you can count. The smell of vanilla body spray and cheap cigarettes reeked in the living room. You genuinely wondered how so many people could fit into such a small apartment. As you scanned the room, you noticed a familiar face. You smiled and waved, and Soobin quickly made her way to you, giving you a warm embrace.

''So it seems like our drinking plan is finally happening." she laughed while scanning you up and down. ''Who are you trying to attract tonight Miss Martini? If I was into women you would've been my first choice.'' Soobin said while smirking.

Earlier while Hyerim went to touch up her makeup, you wandered to the kitchen where you found some unknown version of martini that was already half empty. You didn't care that the now-empty drink would be the cause of your headache tomorrow. All you wanted was to have fun. The alcohol helped you to keep your thoughts foggy. You grabbed one drink after another and gulped it down in one go. You felt a rush of warmth spreading through your body and you felt yourself becoming more confident and daring. You felt like you could take on the world. You danced and sang along with Soobin. You were living in the moment, without a care in the world. You were having the time of your life.

''Y/N I'VE SEARCHED FOR YOU EVERYWHERE!'' Hyerim screamed trying to make her voice louder than the music. The girl next to her looked dumbfounded. ''This is my friend Dohee. I've told you about her before! Her oreo girlfriend will arrive later so until then it's the four of us.'' She said while showing Soobin a big smile.

Meanwhile, Hyerim and Soobin were discussing a movie you've never heard of and your eyes couldn't stop traveling to Dohee's sour expression. It was such a shame, a beautiful girl frowning. Her red-coated luscious lips are paralyzed, the leather jacket accentuating her small figure so well. Whoever is making the alluring-looking women wait is a real loser, you think. But you're here, with her, right now, in the moment. Who can blame you for wanting to steal a smile from the girl's face?

''I guess your girlfriend is not coming hm?'' You asked quietly, trying not to make the girl explode. She looks like she could burst into crying any moment now. While asking her, you carefully put your arm around her shoulders.

''Yeah. She stood me up again." Dohee sighed then went on and told you how the girl whose appearance won't be seen tonight isn't actually her girlfriend but rather a friend with benefits she's too scared to admit she has feelings for. She told you the unknown woman told her she wasn't interested in any emotional relationship and she just had to accept it. You wondered if the cause of her being so open about this subject was the cup full of plain vodka or if she just was so desperate for someone to hear her out, to look into her soulful eyes and say ''I care''. Regardless of that, you were ready to be there for her even if it was for a short time.

''She's such a fool. I hope you're aware of that. Someone like you doesn't deserve to be treated like that, tossed around like a simple washcloth. Forget about her tonight. Things will get better like they always have.'' You told her while giving a genuine smile, slowly putting your hand on top of hers.

''You really mean that?'' She says smirking while looking at your hands that are now intertwined.

One conversation led to another, and you and Dohee ended up outside sharing a cigarette she pulled from her bra. Even tho you met only 3 hours ago the silence between you two wasn't awkward, but rather comforting. The moon shone down, illuminating your faces as you stood together. Dohee couldn't help but ask you:

"You look familiar. Are you sure our paths haven't crossed before?" Her expression grows nervous. She knew exactly where she saw you before but was too drunk and confused to link things.

''If I had seen you before I would've remembered, but besides that, I doubt I would've let you go." You respond confidently with a grin.

''I've told you so much about me and I don't really know anything about you.." She told you wistfully.

You went on and told her small details about you, such as your 2 month trip and your passion for writing. Nothing too significant but enough to be considered an acquaintance instead of a stranger. She took a moment and studied your face, admiring the eyes she was jealous of every time her romantic interest forgot to hide the picture on her desk. No wonder Bada kept your picture somewhere visible. You were too beautiful to not be looked at. Maybe that's why Bada hid the picture every time she came over, to not fall in love with you instead of her. At first, she envied you for looking so happy next to her. She envied the fact that Bada's smile looked genuine next to yours. Two stars standing next to each other so closely couldn't be any good she thought, unaware of the fact that you and Bada eventually collided, merging into an even brighter star than you currently are. Unfortunately, that star didn't survive long as it was pulled into a black hole, but it died gloriously in a tidal disruption event.

She smiled and gave you a warm look. She took your hand in hers and brought you closer, her touch sending a spark of electricity through your body. It's been a while since you kissed someone but you sure wouldn't mind her touch. When the gap between you closed, your cherry lips met her strawberry ones. Weird combination of flavors but it works. One bitter and the other one sweet.

Your hands shamelessly roam her body, not knowing in the distance that someone is enjoying this as much as you. Instead of focusing on the one she spent the last night with, her eyes are only focusing on your figure, observing the way you fiercely grab the other girl's hips pulling her even closer to you. It's been a while since she last saw you, especially like this but you still managed to make her freeze on the spot. For a moment Bada recalled a time when you simply kissed her. It wasn't something meaningful at all, just how your plump lips sat on hers. At the same time, it was amusing for her that you just kissed the girl she casually used to forget about the emotions she drowned in because of you. Following her heart always leads her to you.

Dohee pulled away when her phone suddenly rang, her face suddenly becoming bitter. You went inside to give her privacy. In the living room, you find Soobin and Hyerim ''dancing'' if it even can be called that, barely being capable of standing on their own feet. They quickly pull you into their little dancing circle forcing you to dance with them. There was no choice other than to give in and take pictures to have a good laugh later on. The laughter didn't last long as Dohee came in with the tall, 2 colored hair woman holding hands.

''What the fuck..'' Soobin whispered to you while catching a glimpse of Bada.

You were drunk but not drunk enough to not notice Bada and her changed appearance. The once blue hair you encouraged her to dye was gone, now weirdly but cutely resembling an oreo and one thing about oreos is that you couldn't resist them, being ideal for your picky taste buds. The not overly sweet cookie fits your dessert criteria perfectly, just like you and Bada's hands fit each other perfectly but that was long forgotten.

''There they are! Let's play spin the bottle now!" Hyerim exclaimed while sending Dohee a wink. It was obvious she was trying to make her friend happy and maybe give her the chance to kiss the girl she spent sleepless nights crying over. However, Hyerim wouldn't let her teenagey thoughts win if she knew the way Bada used to smile at you, nevertheless, it was too late for that because you and a few other people gathered in a circle.

Hyerim went over the ''rules'' quickly, saying if you don't want to kiss the other person you have to take a shot of whatever alcohol was left. Everyone agreed, eagerly to kiss one another or just drink some more. In the first round, the bottle landed on Hyerim and Soobin. They shared a peck playfully without any hesitation. You were up next, the cap of the bottle stopped between Bada and Dohee, the in-love girl clearly not thinking it through because she was too excited to be staying so close to the woman next to her, obviously they won't kiss at all since they aren't sitting on the opposite of each other.

''Okay Y/N who are you gonna kiss??" Hyerim said full of curiosity, a little afraid of the decision you have to make.

''You don't have to kiss anyone Y/N. It's just a stupid game.'' Soobin babbled.

''Dohee.'' You said firmly while looking straight into her eyes. She couldn't handle all the eyes on her, especially yours and Bada's so her view dropped to the bottle in front of her.

''I-'' Dohee gasped trying to form a sentence unsuccessfully, not only because of her drunken state and emotions but because another voice chimed in.

"Kiss her." Bada assented. "It's not like you haven't kissed her before. Kiss her." She repeated smirking while your eyes locked. You won't lie, the multi-colored hair really fits her, just as she thought about how well the rhinestones make your eyes pop.

You grabbed Dohee's face and kissed her. Now you'd blame it on the martini but you specifically bit her lip just right in order to earn a moan from her and a sneer from Bada.

''I'm so calling Taeyoung right now..'' Soobin mumbled trying to remember her passcode in order to call your friend to tell her the shit show she just missed.

(3)

The atmosphere in the room was thick with tension and unspoken words, especially between you, Dohee, and Bada. The game of spinning the bottle continued, but your mind was elsewhere, replaying the moment your lips met Dohee's and the mixed emotions that flashed across Bada's face.

After a few more rounds and a couple of awkward kisses, the game fizzled out, the participants either too drunk or too distracted by their own thoughts. Hyerim, with her ever-bubbling energy, suggested a change in activity, but the mood had shifted. The party was winding down, people were starting to leave or find a spot to crash for the night.

You decided to step outside for a breath of fresh air, the stuffiness of the room becoming too much. As you leaned against the railing of the small balcony, you felt the cool night air brush against your skin, sobering you up a bit. Your thoughts were a jumbled mess, images of Dohee's surprised face and Bada's unreadable expression swirling in your mind.

"Mind if I join you?" a voice asked from behind. You turned to see Bada stepping out onto the balcony, closing the door behind her. The noise from the party became a dull murmur, giving you both a semblance of privacy.

"I wasn't expecting you to be here tonight." you said, trying to keep your voice steady.

Bada leaned against the railing beside you, looking out into the night. "I could say the same about you." she replied. "Seems like we both can't escape each other's orbit, no matter how hard we try. Every time I forget about us you hunt me down." She giggled, earning a chuckle from you.

The silence that followed was heavy, laden with unspoken words and memories of a past relationship that had ended in a whirlwind of emotions. You both knew that whatever had been between you was in the past, yet the remnants of those feelings still lingered.

As the moon cast a shimmering glow on the sandy beach, Bada and you found yourselves walking hand in hand along the shoreline. The sound of crashing waves provided a soothing soundtrack to the unspoken connection between you. With each step, the love between you became replaced by a renewed sense of fear. It might be time to stop swimming into the Sea, maybe it's time to dry yourself off from the sticky saltwater that's been on your skin for so long that it started cracking. As your wounds started to deepen the saltwater couldn't be any good. The stinging sensation was trying to catch your attention, to alarm you that something was wrong but to no avail. You kept swimming and swimming until you couldn't see the shore anymore. That's when you realized you had got lost. In your next life maybe you'll be a fish, that way you and the Sea wouldn't hurt each other. In the one after that maybe you'll be a dog, sleeping at the foot of your owner's bed if it means you get to be on it. You will be just like how she loves you. You will continue to be patient, just as you were in this lifetime. Maybe in another life if it couldn't be in this one.

''I didn't think we'd grow apart so soon.'' Bada's husky voice made goosebumps spread all over your body as her face was now close to your ear, back hugging you. ''You're the first person who made me feel something. I'll forever cherish the moments I had with you.'' As Bada's whispered words reached your ear, a bittersweet mixture of longing and nostalgia flooded your heart. In that moment, you couldn't help but feel a pang of regret for the lost connection, yet also a deep appreciation for the love that had once blossomed between you.

''I knew you were going to leave me but it still hurts.'' Your breathy words managed to escape your throat.

''Thank you for letting me go Y/n because I would not have walked away.'' The emotions of longing and nostalgia washed over you like a tidal wave, reminding you of the way your soul intertwined with Bada's. Each memory, each stolen glance and each word you shared replayed in your mind, leaving you yearning for the future that slowly drifts away, as easy as it comes and as easy as it goes.

Bada hugged you one last time, her arms embracing you so hard that her scent lingered on your shirt-and that was the last thing she ever offered you.

"Why did you tell Dohee to kiss me?" you finally asked, breaking the silence.

Bada turned to look at you, her eyes reflecting a mix of emotions. "Because I know you, Y/n. I know that even if you're trying to move on, a part of you is still stuck in the past. With me. I don't want it to be that way."

You swallowed hard, the truth in her words stinging. "And what about you, Bada? Are you stuck in the past too?"

She hesitated, then let out the answer you already knew. "Maybe. Maybe part of me never really left our bed. But I also know that we can't go back. Too much has happened. And that's okay."

''There was a time when I thought I'd know you forever.'' your reply seemed to suck any thought Bada even had in the first place, leaving her speechless.

Finally, Bada spoke up again. "Look, Y/n, I don't know what the future holds for us, whether we're meant to be in each other's lives or not. But I do know that I want you to be happy, even if it's not with me."

Her words were sincere, and you felt a warm sensation in your chest, a feeling that maybe it was time to truly let go and move forward.

"Thank you, Bada," you said softly. "I want the same for you."

''Is this our goodbye?'' You dared to ask.

"You know I don't believe in goodbyes."

With those final words, you both shared a smile, acknowledging the end of a long and tangled chapter and the beginning of another. As you went back inside, leaving Bada alone with her thoughts, you realized that the night had brought more than just a party; it had brought a sense of closure you never got on the night when you and the Sea decided your love was too powerful so it might cause a tsunami. You felt a sense of uncertainty about what the future held, hoping that somehow she'd be at the end of your path.

That night was the last time you ever saw Bada Lee up close. Your eyes involuntary checked her instagram profile every once in a while or if you were lucky sometimes you'd spot her around uni, your sight being glued to her; your burning stare was never enough to make her turn around tho but still, you couldn't help yourself but think maybe, just maybe, there was a chance for something new to grow from the ashes of the past. Until you dropped that idea because you realized:

one fish would never be big enough to fill the whole Sea.

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