#pearl subway tile

[inspiredlivingspaces]

IG beckiowens

[autumnlesterhowell]

Kitchen Enclosed Philadelphia Inspiration for a mid-sized timeless u-shaped medium tone wood floor and beige floor enclosed kitchen remodel with an undermount sink, beaded inset cabinets, white cabinets, quartzite countertops, white backsplash, ceramic backsplash, stainless steel appliances, an island and green countertops

[sketchshelter]

Kitchen in Philadelphia

Mid-sized traditional u-shaped enclosed kitchen design with a beige floor, a medium-tone wood floor, an undermount sink, beaded inset cabinets, quartzite countertops, a white backsplash, and a ceramic backsplash. Stainless steel appliances, an island, and green countertops are also featured.

[important-videoshow]

Kitchen Enclosed Enclosed kitchen - mid-sized coastal u-shaped medium tone wood floor enclosed kitchen idea with an undermount sink, shaker cabinets, white cabinets, granite countertops, white backsplash, glass tile backsplash, stainless steel appliances and no island

[mdwaxx]

San Francisco Bathroom 3/4 Bath Mid-sized Mediterranean 3/4 white tile and subway tile ceramic tile walk-in shower design with a brown floor and a single sink, flat-panel cabinets, a one-piece toilet, beige walls, a quartz countertop, a hinged shower door, white countertops, and a freestanding vanity.

[quazardrawing]

Another Ingo and Pokémon reunion! This time its Garbodor!

[image description: Ingo (6 ft) hugs A huge green trash monster Pokémon (10 ft) both Ingo and Garbodor are smiling ]

More details and headcanons below the readmore!

- Garbodor's name is Ballast! Which is the loose gravel below train rails, they provide drainage and cushion the tracks from the earth and lower the effect of the vibration the train makes on the ground

- Ballast is also the name of extra weight ships take on to ensure that they are bouyant enough and well balanced when on return trips but that not relevent

- You might say, Hey isn't Garbodor trash and garbage bag green section supposed to be reversed? And yes, this is actually a headcanon that the Garbodor found in the Pokédex is actually the Wild version, to properly take care of a Garbodor you need to supply them with plenty of trash bags for them to create a pseudo skin with, this allows them to be more durable and protects them when they are ingesting or come across sharp objects (and helps them heal from scratches) Without steady access they proritize their head over their body, which causes their brain to overheat and become more aggressive or impulsive, Covering the body also helps them stay cleaner, and keep those that they touch cleaner too,

- Garbodor is a unique Pokémon because of their diet, which is a combination of compostable items, actual poke chow/ regular food and plastics, Garbodors are actually able to break down non-compostable plastics! making them a very important part of the post fossil fuel age environmental clean up! Every reagion has a bunch of them in their Waste Management department whose job is dispose of large scale plastics created prior to the invention of compostable plastics (which are the standard in this time period of the Pokémon world)

- As Garbodor is basically a mobile and sentient recycler they tend to run kinda hot, kinda like a worm bin and tend to smell like a combo of a worm bin, a burning engine and dirty laundry (the smell can change depending on their diet) Ingo and Emmett have gotten mostly used to the smell but occasionally feed Ballast the Pokémon equivalent of frebreeze which either helps or makes them sick of smelling that type of oderizer for a months on end

- One of the reasons that Ingo does so well as Lady Sneazler's Warden is because he was already mostly immune to poisen from living with and raising Ballast (although his other Pokemon's poisen type moves also contributed) Normally Lady Sneazler's wardens go though years of slowly building up poisen immunity but Ingo just walked up and shook Sneazler's poisen claw hands when they first meet and was totally fine, Tanking the poisen like it was nothing

- Ingo is also partially immune to high voltage (from Eelektross), Small burns (Chandelure) and some ghost/ soul type damage (Also Chandelure)

- This actually freaked out some people from Pearl clan when they found this out but is actually pretty common among Modern trainers, depending on what Pokémon the protag raised prior to coming to Hisui they might have some minor resistances (unlike Ingo who has Major resistances)

- dispite being made of trash and very stinky, it's actually pretty comfortable to take a nap on Ballast's belly, (although putting a blanket down is recommended) kinda like a huge heated bean bag chair, this is because while Ballast does eat construction materials, Ingo and Emmett are very good and making sure they are ground down small enough as to not hurt Ballast, which is good because large and/or sharp objects can hurt Garbodor digestive system

- Ballast does double duty as a fighter but also helps deal with the waste from when the subway system/ tunnels was upgraded, His favourite stuff is Drywall and ceramic tiles, which if he wasn't well trained or properly watched means he might start licking random walls, which leaves slight acid stains behind

- occasionally Ingo or Emmett will have also have Ballast act as a bouncer to whatever area is corndended off, Between the smell, his size, his power as a professional fighter and His stanch no nonsense attitude, he's a very good at this job

- like most Garbodor, Ballast has a kinda simple personality, not as in unintelligent but as in they are food motivated and don't feel the need for other thinking, although because Emmett and Ingo's training Ballast has very good impulse control (for a Garbodor) and will not steal food/ eat random junk without permission, He will however stare longingly and slightly drool like a dog who wants your fries when he sees something he wants to eat, Which can include almost anything, such as paperwork, or a plastic container full of dirty socks, It also doesn't help that instead of sitting beneath the table and staring at you eat or work on something, he will stand behind or next to you and loom over you while you work

- Lastly as Garbodor process things with color or dye they tend to break them down and create patches of the 5 primary dye colours, white, black, magenta, cyan and yellow, eventually these single colour disks flake off as the material is disposed of but Garbodor can have some control over when and how they look, Ballast chooses the patches to be triangles and have the black and white ones be in pairs, symbolising his Trainers, He was also given a gear station metal sign to wear as a badge on his arm, which he wears all the time as it shows he's a member of the Battle Subway Crew

[inoreuct]

miles hiked the strap of his duffel further up his shoulder as the subway doors hissed open, cans knocking against each other inside when he stepped out. his jordans squeaked on the dirty tile as he took the steps up; he stepped onto the street and squinted as the setting sun hit him right in the face. 

today had been brutal. his visual arts professor’s critique had been harsh, but accurate; still, acknowledging that fact hadn’t helped miles much, and try as he might he just hadn’t been able to get his oils to work the way he wanted them to. 

you’re trying too hard, his professor had scolded. you’re off today because you can’t find the sense of freedom that makes your work unique, miles. 

“no shit,” miles muttered, walking mostly on autopilot as he rounded corners and took shortcuts through alleyways. between crazy deadlines and the near-ridiculous workload, he was stretched too thin; his mama had told him not to double major, but he still refused to believe she had a point. 

so here he was on a friday evening, ducking under a gap in a wire fence, kicking up dirt in the abandoned scrapyard where he did most of his graffiti. it wasn’t his only haunt, nor was it his exclusively, but he’d claimed a stretch of concrete wall as his own and—

someone was standing in front of it.

miles skidded to a stop, only just noticing that he’d been walking faster than he’d realised, and the person turned.

oh.

someone hot was standing in front of it. 

an angular face framed by thick wicks with low, proud brows pierced twice on each side, just slightly uneven enough to offset the perfect symmetry of the stranger’s face; miles’s gaze tripped over sharp eyes smudged with liner, spiky lashes long enough to brush high cheekbones, silver barbells through a strong nose bridge and the right side of a full lower lip, gloss-slick. a worn denim vest was wrapped around his lean frame, pleated palazzo pants falling over chunky loafers, rings on almost every dark-polished finger and a vivienne westwood orb dangling in silver and pearl from his ear.

oh no. 

“this yours?” the stranger asked, pointing to the graffiti-laden wall with his chin, accent catching miles off guard just as much as his words did. 

“uh—” miles swallowed, mouth too dry as he reassessed his artwork and tried to imagine it from an outsider’s perspective. “yeah. why?” 

the stranger shrugged, mouth twisting wryly. “i like it.”

the relief miles felt was irrational. he tried to strangle it, and it just made his heart pound harder. “you, um— what do you like about it?” he finished the question and nearly gagged. so smooth, morales. not lame at all.

“…the emotions,” the stranger hummed, undeterred, head tipping to the side. “it’s… raw. feels like a fresh bruise that ya can’t stop pressin’ on.” 

miles went still at that, eyes drawn to where the stranger was looking, with bright explosions and splatters of colour everywhere. it was a patch that made no sense and took up too much space, but he’d never been able to bring himself to spray over it; he’d made it the night his uncle died, plunged his hands straight into cans of paint and took his grief out on the concrete. there were tears dried in there, too. 

“interesting.” a fresh bruise. it didn’t feel quite so fresh anymore, five years down the road; more like an old injury that ached when it rained. miles walked up to stand beside the stranger, close enough to take in the patchwork tattoos covering his arms but not enough to decipher the scrawling line of text beneath his jaw. 

“interesting,” his stranger echoed, pulling something from a pocket of his vest and offering it to miles between two fingers.

miles took the card, the edge pressing into his fingers. it was simple, black courier font flushed left against a cream background; THE BLACK WIDOW. ink and piercings. 834 57th street, brooklyn. he looked up to find the guy already looking at him, hands in his pockets as he backed away. “hope five o’clock tomorrow’s good,” he called, flashing a row of white teeth in the first smile miles had seen from him, surprisingly sweet and a little dorky. “i’d like to make a commission.” 

something caught in miles’s throat, stealing his words as he watched the stranger walk away. he was about to duck under the fence when miles finally shouted, “h-hey, wait! i never got your name!”

the stranger turned, arching a brow. “it’s hobie. hobie brown.” he tipped his chin at miles and slipped under the wire, all easy grace and long limbs, unfolding to his full height on the other side.

miles watched him go, trying out his name on his tongue. “hobie brown.”

he dropped his duffel, picked a colour and shook the can, pulling off the cap as a smile pulled unbidden at the edges of his mouth.

guess i better clear my schedule for 5 o’clock.

(now with pt. 2!)

okay okay listen LISTEN. tattoo artist hobie and visual artist miles who does everything from gouache to graffiti to digital, but one day miles is heading over to his usual graffiti place and he finds this tall handsome stranger already there. HOBIE. THE TALL HANDSOME STRANGER IS HOBIE. AND HE WANTS TO COMMISSION SMTH FROM MILES.

[anchoredreno]

MUST-HAVE KITCHEN RENOVATION IDEAS

Remodeling your kitchen to create the kitchen of your dreams should be enjoyable and stress-free. The Kitchen renovation gulf breeze experts are delighted to share the following kitchen renovation ideas with you to help you obtain some inspiration.

Backsplash in the Kitchen

With so many beautiful tile and natural stone items to choose from, one feature may transform the look of your kitchen. Consider using mother-of-pearl tiles for a luxurious effect. Get in on the subway tile craze for a timeless appearance. Lay tile or natural stone in a diamond pattern for a striking accent. Choose contrasting tiles such as black and white for a popular focal point.

Kitchen Flooring

A typical kitchen renovation application is to extend the tile used on the floor to the backsplash. Kitchen flooring is available in a wide range of materials, from wood to natural stone.

Consider placing the tile or wood in a chevron or herringbone pattern for a distinctive touch.

Cabinetry for the kitchen

These kitchen renovation ideas can take your kitchen to the next level. Kitchen cabinets are a blank canvas on which to paint your style.

Designers and many homeowners are moving away from traditional white or wood cabinets. Instead, they opt for unusual hues like forest green, navy blue, brilliant blue, and black.

Hardware

The metals gold, brass, and nickel are experiencing a renaissance, and it's for a good purpose, too! These finishes look stunning when coupled with dark tones like those mentioned above. Cabinets in navy blue with gold hardware are gorgeous!

Faucets & Sinks

Today's luxury sinks and faucets include fascinating copper, gold, brass, and nickel finishes, just like the cabinet hardware. Matte black faucets, on the other hand, are pretty popular.

Don't worry; while these finishes are trendy right now, they are traditional and will last a lifetime in your kitchen.

You might have a built-in drawer for chopping veggies and a little opening leading to a garbage bin beneath for a more innovative solution.

Hire the kitchen remodeling gulf breeze experts to revamp your kitchen now!

[brelione]

Trying To Help (The Best Boys)

Series Masterlist

Warnings:Mentions of death, not super sad kind of just conflicting I think (figured id give you guys an emotional break), mentions of blood.Not proof read because im a lazy bitch.

“Hey pretty boy.”You whispered, trying not to cry.Topper frowned, not understanding where he was or why everything felt so weird. “Im sorry I drove off a bridge.”He replied, his voice sounding funny as if he had been talking with food in his mouth.

 “Dont be bubs, you didnt mean to….”You replied, hoping your voice wasnt hurting his head.His eyes closed again, too lazy to keep them open. “Rafe should be here soon.”You bit the inside of your cheek anxiously.

His nose scrunched up, a look of disapproval on his face. “Why does everything always gotta be about Rafe?”He asked, his eyes opening wide when he realised there was a cast on his arm.He moved the fingers on his right hand, making sure that one wasnt broken too.Needles and IVs had been stabbed into his arm and hand, an air tube across his face and at his nostrils.

He noticed your hand on the bed, reaching for it with his good hand.You let him hold it, glad he wasnt mad at you.The room was quiet and dark but not so much that it was awkward, the two of you just trying to keep eachother calm. “Hey,guys.”The door opened to reveal Rafe.

He was wearing a backwards hat, a light blue polo shirt and black pants.He looked just as much of a mess as you, a guilty expression on his face.His eyes flicked over to you and Toppers hands as he sat in the chair next to you.

 “Is that Rafe?”Topper asked, too tired to open his eyes again. “Yeah, dude.You really fucked up this time.”Rafe smiled but his face quickly fell into a frown when you didnt do the same.You began to drag your fingertips along Toppers arm, feeling a bit better when he grinned at the feeling.

“So how was the movie?”He asked, feeling his eyes water up. “Um...yeah, we didnt end up finishing it.Guess it wasnt the same without you there.”You muttered, your fingers trailing back down to his palm.

He hummed, taking in a deep breath when he realised you could hear his heartbeat increasing from the monitor. “I knew you wouldnt finish it.Between you and Kelce screaming and….and Rafe being an impatient slut.”Topper smiled, opening his eyes ever so slightly to catch a glimpse of Rafe’s reaction.

 “Hmm...you’re lucky your arms already broken, pussy.”Rafe smiled, becoming less tense when you rolled your eyes. “DOnt be fucking rude.”You whispered with a small smile. “You know what...its the quoting the Kardashians daily for me.”Topper bit his lip as he waited for you to respond. “Its...the breaking my flower pot for me.”You replied, tapping your fingers against his palm.You grinned,recalling the memory.

You and Kelce had spent the morning together after a sleepover.You had scrolled through your pinterest feed as usual, coming across a ton of diy plant pots and decided to just go for it.You told Kelce about your idea as you two sat down for breakfast, both of you half asleep as you drank coffee. “Yeah, okay.”he agreed, putting on his shoes once he had finished his eggs.

 “So how many pots should we get?”He asked as you buckled your seatbelt.You shrugged, not really having a proper answer as he began to drive to Walmart, cursing when he couldnt find a parking spot.Once he did he waited for you to go back to your pinterest boards and figure out exactly what type of paint you would need for the project.

It was far too early for the store to be busy, holding on to Kelce’s back as he grabbed a cart. “What isle?”He asked, stopping to grab a bag of cheetos. “Uhhh….I dont know.Hold on.”You pulled out your phone, holding onto him with one arm and resting the phone on top of his head.

 “Thirteen.”You replied, squealing and holding on for dear life as he began running through the store, coming to a halt when he reached the isle.You hopped off of his back, grabbing some small pots and some medium pots and putting them into the cart carefully. 

“Can I paint spongebob on mine?”He asked, his eyes glancing through the paint colors on the hunt for a bright yellow. “I dont care, paint whatever you want.”You replied, grabbing the primary colors and tossing them into the cart.Kelce being Kelce had freaked when he saw the variety of stickers, buying at least thirty dollars worth of puppy stickers, marvel stickers, car stickers and shiny spikes. 

“No weeds are gonna mess with this plant when im done with it.”He said proudly as he grabbed every single strip of spike stickers.You had rolled your eyes, picking out some pearl like stickers and tossing them in the cart.Kelce smiled, getting an idea.

He moved all of the items to the opposite side of the cart to leave an empty space, picking you up quickly and putting you inside. “Kelce-seriously?”You sighed, holding on to the side as he pushed the cart quickly, swerving it against the tile on his way to the plant isle. 

“Yep, its easier this way.”He replied, stopping the cart once you guys got to the other side of the store. “Ooh….can we grow sunflowers?”He asked, tossing the bag of seeds into the cart before you could answer. “Get lavender too.”You replied, taking out your phone to play subway surfers.

Kelce huffed, arms wrapping around your shoulders and placing a kiss on the top of your head as he watched you play. “Whats your high score?”He asked, playing with the baby hairs that had fallen out of your braids. 

“I dunno, higher than yours.”You grinned, hearing him gasp. “Fucking rude.”He muttered, flicking your temple. “Fuck you.”You replied, avoiding a train. “Fuck you!”He exclaimed driving the cart to check out.He grabbed a few packs of gum as well, scanning the items at the self checkout.

You two then spent the whole afternoon painting pots and covering them in an obnoxious amount of stickers.The small one that Kelce had done all by himself was covered with spike stickers that kept falling off. “It wont stay stuck!”He exclaimed, becoming frustrated.

 “Kelce, babe, its cause you’ve got paint on the sticky part.”You sighed, grabbing a paper towel and putting it under the water to wipe off the yellow paint from the pot.He was a pouting mess for the rest of the afternoon but was happy with the outcome of the pot, taking a photo of it to post on his snapchat story. “How did you do that?”He asked, pointing to the pastel rainbow pot you had painted.You shrugged, just going off of what you saw in the video.You two had decided to just go sit on the couch and watch some cartoons while you waited for Rafe and Topper, leaving the pots to dry on the table.

Once Topper had gotten there he had given you a quick greeting and went into the kitchen to get something to drink, accidentally elbowing one of the pots in the process and sending it to the floor, the clay colliding with your tile floor. “TOPPER!WHAT THE FUCK?!”You exclaimed, rushing into the kitchen.

“Its the stealing my hoodies from me and then pretending you didnt for me.”He replied.Your heart dropped as you realized you were wearing his hoodie right now, beginning to freak out when you realised you werent even wearing pants.

 “Shut up.”You replied, squeezing his hand lightly.Kelce came through the door a few seconds later, sighing loudly. “These people are ridiculous-I had to convince them that I was Top’s adopted brother.Did you have to do that?”He asked Rafe, going to stand at the end of the bed.

 “Nope.”Rafe replied.Kelce bit the inside of his cheek, staring at Topper. “Concussion?”He asked, noticing the bandage that was peaking out from Topper’s forehead.You nodded, looking between the two boys. “How you feeling?”Kelce asked.Topper grinned, peaking one eye open. 

“Like shit.”Topper replied, a small smile on his face. “How long am I gonna be stuck here?”Topper asked, finally acknowledging the fact that he was in a hospital.Rafe shook his head, looking over to Kelce as if he knew anything about the situation that you and Rafe didnt.

Kelce shrugged, not knowing either. “I mean, with that kind of injury one could only assume a good two weeks or so.You wont be able to drive- (Y/N)- how did you get here?”Kelce asked, realising.You had texted them from the hospital which meant that Rafe hadnt driven you.

You went quiet, feeling their eyes on you. “Uhhh….I drove.”You replied, hoping they wouldnt push further.Topper opened both of his eyes this time, wanting to make sure he had understood properly. “What?”Topper asked, cringing at the lisp he now had.

He shouldve known his voice would sound different.He had literally bit off part of his tongue. “I drove.”You repeated, feeling a bit insecure.Rafe just looked confused, Kelce was shocked and Topper just couldnt believe it.

 “How’d it go?”Topper asked, wanting to sit up when he realised that he couldnt really move that much.You shrugged, trying to figure out why the attention was on you when Topper had literally almost died.

 “I dont really know, kinda just did it.I dont really remember it either.”You replied, feeling Rafe’s hand drift onto your knee, tapping your knee cap.He had been doing it for years.He was awkward most of the time and didnt know what to do if his hand was empty, usually going to hold yours or just touch you in some way to feel more grounded.

 “Why dont you remember it?”Topper asked, unable to grasp the whole situation.Thank god he didnt know that the nurse had told you about his ‘last words’.He wouldve had a heart attack on spot. “I was in shock, dum dum.I was just-just trying to make breakfast and then the fucking hospital calls me and tells me that you drove into a river.”You laughed, a few tears rolling down your face.

Toppers heart beat quickened,squeezing your hand tight. “I said I was sorry...did you at least drink water this morning?”He asked, wishing he could hug you.You laughed, wiping your face. “No, no I didnt cause I thought you were gonna die!”You replied, sniffling.

 “For the love of life, Topper.Keep up.”You let out a shaky breath. “Im trying my best, sunshine.”He answered, not paying attention to Rafe or Kelce.It felt like you were the only one who was actually in the room with him.

 “I mean, I guess its just karma.Have any of us ever left during a movie night?All im saying is I think its like a curse or something.”Topper answered, trying his best to get you to stop crying.Kelce couldnt even think of something to say, the situation was overpowering him.

You just sighed,leaning your forehead against the mattress, staring down at the floor. “Why’d you leave?”You asked, still not understanding the full situation that lead to Topper leaving your house.Rafe shifted in his seat, squeezing your knee, almost trying to tell you not to bring it up again.

 “Just...wanted to go home.”He mumbled, knowing better than to bring up the argument that he no longer cared about.He couldve laughed at it.As jealous as he was as Rafe even he could admit that the son of a bitch cared about you more than anyone and to accuse him of not caring about you was the stupidest thing he had ever said.And that was saying a lot.

SOmetimes he was close to positive that Rafe didnt care about him or Kelce but there was never a single doubt in his mind that Rafe didnt love you.Now he kind of wish that he had died since it would leave you with Rafe and Kelce.

They were both better friends than he could ever be no matter how hard he tried.It wouldve been better for the whole friend group if he had stayed dead. “You have a concussion, bubs.Nothing you say is relevant for the next two weeks.”You joked, feeling the tears roll down your face and onto your collarbones, not even bothering to wipe them away anymore.

 “You have a single brain cell, (Y/N).Nothing you say is relevant.”He replied, laughing a bit.It didnt do much but hurt his head and make his tongue sting. “See?That’s not relevant.”You replied, lifting your head up from the mattress and kissing the back of his hand lightly.

Rafe smiled slightly, glad to see that you were a bit better and that Topper hadnt yelled at him to get out. “You know what?I just think I should say something really important.”Topper announced, thinking that he sounded louder than he actually did.Rafe squeezed your knee tightly, worried that Topper would tell you what he knew and that Kelce would freak out about it.

 “I dont think im allowed to watch tv with a concussion-fuck.”Topper grumbled, hearing Rafe let out a sigh of relief.He noticed Kelce still standing, getting up and asking you quietly if you two could share your seat.

You huffed, standing up and allowing him to sit in your chair, sitting on his lap, feeling self conscious when Toppers hoodie lifted to reveal half your thigh. “I mean, you could always do other things to pass the time.”Kelce replied, sitting down in the chair.

 “Hmm...like what?”Topper asked.Thank god Kelce was an optimist, the rest of you would be absolutely fucked without him. “Like….coloring, reading or….I dont know, thinking.”Kelce suggested, going quiet soon after. “Read what?”Topper asked.

He had never liked reading.Back when you guys were still in school he would refuse to read anything, tossing his homework down as you and Kelce tried to do yours.You usually had to harass Rafe for hours to do his work when all he could focus on was you.He would purposely annoy you just so you’d talk more and get all mad.

Between him and Topper you never got your work done, having to read to Topper so he would get some of his work done. “I could read you the Harry Potter books, ive got them downloaded to my phone.”You replied, a small grin on your face.

Toppers face became red, wanting to protest but deciding that he’d rather have you read to him than continue with the upsetting conversations. “Yeah, okay.”He answered, closing his eyes as you began to read.Kelce was smiling as you read, making comments every once in a while. 

“Wow, what a bitch.”He muttered about Vernon.Rafe squeezed your waist, resting his head against your back.It was some time in the afternoon when the nurse came in to check Toppers IV and give him some more medication. “Theres food available in the cafeteria, a warm soup or something soft would be best for your friend here.”She gestured towards Topper before leaving.

She had given you all a weird look, trying to figure out why a patient’s girlfriend was sitting on the lap of his assumed brother.Kelce bit the inside of his cheek, hearing his stomach rumbling. “Alright, well im going to the cafeteria. (Y/N), can you come with me please?”He asked.

You sighed, shaking your head. “Im not wearing pants.”You answered. “Can you stand up for a minute?”Rafe asked.You huffed, getting off of his lap, eyes widening when he pulled off his shorts and handed them right over to you.

Kelce wasnt even surprised, just hungry.You awkwardly pulled up the shorts, tying them tight around your waist and following Kelce into the elevator.Everything was going smoothly until it came to a stop. “What the hell?”Kelce asked, hitting a ton of buttons at once. “Kelce!Stop that!”You smacked his wrist, screaming when the elevator moved slightly, coming to a stop again. 

“What should I do?Im pressing the red button!”He exclaimed as he pressed it again. “I dont know!Press it again!”You exclaimed, clinging onto his arm. “Oh my fuck-shit dammit!Now we’re gonna die!”You exclaimed. 

“We’re already in a hospital, we’ll be fine.”He answered, pressing the button again. “Kelce!It’s gonna fall!”You exclaimed, holding onto him so tight you were starting to shake. “No its not, its fine.Just wait for someone to come fix it.”He spoke, pulling you onto the floor so you were sitting against him. “It’ll be fine, just wait.”He repeated.

“Im sorry, man.”Topper sighed, looking over to Rafe.THe brunette simply shrugged, not really bothered by it anymore. “Apology accepted.”Rafe replied.Topper let out a sigh of relief, glad that the tension wasnt as strong.

 “But like, can you be honest real quick?”Topper asked, waiting for Rafe to answer. “Yeah, yeah okay.”Rafe replied, dreading what Topper would ask. “Did you guys do anything?”He asked.Rafe frowned, not knowing what to say.

He didnt want to tell Topper something that you werent okay with him knowing but at the same time didnt want to lie. “Yeah, yeah we did.”Rafe replied, holding his breath.Topper simply hummed, letting out a breath through his nose. 

“Were you careful?You know she doesnt….hasnt done those types of things.You didnt hurt her though, right?”Topper asked.Rafe was a bit confused, thinking that Topper would get all jealous and grumpy. “Yeah, yeah I was….she was fine, like she said she was fine and I told her she could….ya know, stop me.She didnt though, I was careful.”Rafe’s cheeks were red, trying not to go into too much depth.

Topper nodded a bit, sighing. “Thats good...so like, are you guys dating now or whatever?”Topper asked, trying to ignore the pit in his stomach.Rafe gulped, not really knowing the answer himself. “I dont know….its all complicated I guess.”He replied, feeling guilty now that he was actually talking about it.

 “Okay...hey, do you think she knows?”Topper asked, hoping you wouldnt walk in at the wrong time.Rafe laughed at the comment. “Damn, man.I dont even know.Like, she obviously knows I do.Ive made it pretty obvious but like...you’ve made it pretty obvious too at this point I think.I feel like she doesnt think anyone would like her like that no matter how obvious we make it.I dont know, I feel like right now wouldnt be a good time to talk to her about this though, lets just not say anything to her.”Rafe muttered, realising he had promised you that he wouldnt tell anyone what you two had done last night

. “Hmm...you know whats fucked?”Topper asked, blinking slowly.Rafe hummed, waiting for him to continue. “I lost my two year streak with her.And you.”The blonde smiled, wiggling his toes carefully.Rafe laughed, pinching his nostrils. “Yeah, thats fucked.”He agreed.

“Nobody’s coming.”You huffed, holding on to Kelce’s hand as you leaned against the elevator wall. “You dont know that.”He replied, not sounding genuine at all. “I dont know….do you wanna talk about something?”You asked, thinking of ways to pass time while you guys were trapped.

He sighed, nodding. “What do you wanna talk about?”He asked, flicking at your fingertips. “I dont know...how are your cousins?”You asked, realising that that’s where he had come from.He chuckled, shaking his head.

 “Alec would not stop complaining about sushi, I guess her favorite restaurant closed and now shes all pissy about it.Shes really fucking tall now.”He sighed, kind of glad that he was able to leave the house.You nodded, trying to think of something else to say.

Alec was his 17 year old cousin, she was nice sometimes but she could also be a lot to handle from what you had heard.She was pretty cool though, always commenting on your instagram posts and hyping you up.It kind of gave Rafe a little competition since she always commented before him.

 “What about Jax?Is he still an ass?”You asked.You had met Jax a total of two times, both times he had called you hot and stared at you.He was 17 so it was kind of weird of him but you hadnt had to deal with him in a good six months.

Kelce shrugged, not having much to say. “Yeah, I dont think hes ever gonna change.He tried to download porn to my phone.”Kelce replied, biting the inside of his cheek. “Hey, is it true that Rafe kissed you?I mean, he told me but I figured he probably just dreamt it.”fuck.

Now everything was coming unraveled and you’d have to figure out how you wouldnt hurt anyone. “Uh...yeah, he did.”You answered, biting your bottom lip.He was silent.That was scary if something was so shocking that Kelce had nothing to say.

 “Alright...so how do you feel about it?”He asked, keeping his voice calm and steady.He was tired of not knowing what was going on, not understanding the new tension between you and Rafe.There had always been something there but recently it seemed to get a lot more serious.

But then again he had noticed the way you held Topper, how you’d sigh whenever the blonde kissed your forehead or when he’d hug you.He didnt really want to say anything, figuring that when you wanted to date one of them you would.

Now he sounded exactly like Topper, you were pretty sure those were the exact words that he had said to you. “Um….yeah, I dont really know.I guess that like im not mad about it but I just...I dont know how to feel.”You answered, knowing that it sounded stupid.

Kelce nodded, understanding. “So do you like Rafe?LIke, you know.”He asked, pulling at the sleeve of the hoodie out of boredom.You shrugged, not knowing the answer. “(Y/N), come on now.I see the way you look at him...its a little bit of something.”He pushed.

You knew he was right but you’d rather die than admit it. “I dont know, Kelce.Its just weird, I guess.Like we’ve been friends for like...eight years and now all this shit is happening.”You answered.

He nodded, trying to think of the best advice to give you. “Alright, well life is too short for shit.If you like Rafe then I think you should go for it.All that matters is that you’re happy and if he makes you happy then you should be with him.”Kelce squeezed your hand, waiting for you to speak.

Of course Kelce would say that.That was the most Kelce thing you had ever heard him say. “Yeah, but I dont think I want to be with him.”You muttered, not knowing how to explain what you were feeling.Kelce was confused, trying his best not to show it.

 “Okay….but why?Do you like someone else at the same time?”He asked, trying to piece everything together.The elevator began to move again, scaring you both. “Shit.”You sighed, holding on to his arm as he helped you up. 

“We’ll talk about this later.”It sounded like more of a question.He had never been great at being assertive.A few staff members apologized, explaining that a patient had went roaming around and they had to stop the elevators to prevent them from leaving the hospital.

Kelce held onto your hand tight as you made your way to the cafeteria.None of the food looked particularly appetizing, eventually deciding on a small container of mac and cheese for yourself, a turkey sandwich for Rafe and finding a sealed bowl of potato soup for Topper.

Kelce had grabbed a few sodas and a gatorade for Topper, reuniting with you as you both went to the line, paying for the food.You two had decided on just taking the elevator again, figuring it would be difficult to walk up the stairs with so much to carry.

Luckily it didnt come to a stop this time, the two of you completing the trip successfully and walking back into the hospital room.Rafe and Topper were laughing about something, Rafe sitting in his boxers.It was quite funny.You all ate in a pretty much silence, having to help Topper elevate the upper half of his bed so he could eat properly. 

“I hate hospital food.”Rafe sighed, biting into his sandwich while keeping you balanced on his left thigh.He tried to ignore all of the thoughts he was getting, figuring that the lack of caffeine in his system was making him horny.

That first night in the hospital had been the hardest.You were the only one who was allowed to stay while Kelce and Rafe had to go home.You had given Rafe his sweatpants back.

He decided that he needed to talk to you, taking your hand and getting far away from the room where the trauma patients were seperated from the elderly. “How are you?”He asked.You kind of wanted to punch him.What the hell kind of question was that?

 “I just...im fine.”You forced yourself to grin, not wanting to be rude.He licked his lips, looking around. “Thats...not what I meant.”His face flushed a bit, his ears pink. “oh-oh....um, yeah im fine.”You repeated.He hummed, hands ending up in the pockets of your hoodie.

 “Thats good....im sorry that I went so fast, I know you wanted me to be gentle.”He apologized, kissing your forehead. “Its fine, Rafe.”You answered, hugging him.He huffed, accepting the hug. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow, I can stop by your house and grab you some clothes.”He offered, staring down at you.You nodded, accepting the offer.He leaned down, kissing you gently, feeling himself get weak.

You pulled away after a moment, kissing the tip of his nose before standing on your tiptoes to kiss his forehead. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”You grinned, kissing him gently. “Alright, text me the clothes that you want...do you want one of my shirts?”he asked, smiling when you nodded. “Alright....okay, tomorrow.”He repeated, finally letting go of you.

You ended up staying up for a majority of the night, holding Topper’s hand as you read to him, switching from Harry Potter to short stories.He had moved over in his bed ever so slightly, groaning in pain, staring at the small empty space he had made.

You took the message, hesitantly laying next to him, becoming stiff when he wrapped his good arm around you and let you rest your head on his shoulder. “You’re cold.”He mumbled, holding you tighter.

The nurse came in to wake him up every hour and a half since sleep was bad for concussions.You barely got any sleep, more focused on listening to make sure his heartbeat was steady.

Rafe and Kelce came at seven in the morning with coffee and donuts, a container of chocolate flavored yogurt for Topper.Rafe had stuffed one of your backpacks full of clothes, grabbing whatever he thought would bring you comfort.

He had grabbed you a new shirt from his closet, a mint blue and purple striped polo that was pretty long on him which meant it would fit you like a baggy dress, spraying it with his cologne.

He grabbed your facewash for you, a hairbrush, some hair ties, some socks, soft pants and some loose fitting shirts.He felt a little guilty for looking through your bras and underwear but he knew he couldnt just not bring you some, grabbing a few random ones and stuffing them in the bag.

He grabbed your polaroid camera and a few of your photos, thinking that you might show them to Topper.You were glad to be able to change into some pants, thanking him quietly and slipping in the bathroom to change, sighing when you noticed how wattery and irritated your eyes looked, changing into the shirt that you had seen Rafe wear a couple of times, sniffing it and feeling a calm sensation run through your body.

You sat at the foot of the bed, pulling your knees to your chest as you drank your coffee, taking long, slow blinks.That had been your first day without sleep.It wasnt until the third day that Kelce and Rafe were becoming really concerned.

It had began to rain outside, Kelce and Rafe were trying to convince you to leave and go home. “No.”You answered, sitting in one of the chairs.Topper was asleep.“No-no, you.We’re going home- dont give me that look.You can come back tomorrow but tonight you’re going to sleep in your bed, okay?”Kelce asked, not really giving you any options, picking up your bag.

 “No.”You repeated, wanting to scream when he grabbed your arm, bringing you outside the room. “(Y/N), you havent slept in days.Just come home.”Rafe tried to convince you, going on to explain that you could ride with him or Kelce and then tomorrow the three of you would go into Rafe’s truck and Kelce could drive your car back to your house so you didnt have to worry about it.

You agreed eventually, going back into the room to say bye to Topper, kissing his cheek. “Hey, dont worry about me.Got it?If I find out you were worrying about me im gonna break all your flower pots.”He threatened, a small grin on his face.

You had decided to drive with Kelce, holding his hand as he drove on the wet roads.He was careful to drive slowly so he wouldnt freak you out, informing you that Rafe was going to go stop at a Papa Ginos to grab you guys dinner.

Your house felt foreign to you, the couch not comfy anymore.Kelce frowned, noticing your discomfort. The anxiety felt like it was eating away at your brain.Kelce tried to think of a way to help, the thoughts not coming so easy to him anymore.

The stress was building up inside of him, the stress from dealing with everyone elses problems combining with his own. “Come on.”He grabbed your hand, bringing you upstairs.

Your legs were tired from being held to your chest or bent at uncomfortable angles so you could lay in the hospital bed.He opened the door to your bedroom. “Lay down.”He told you, hoping his voice hadnt come across as creepy.

You raised your eyebrows, not understanding why he was telling you to do this but going along with it anyways.He got onto the bed next to you, wrapping an arm around your toso, one of his legs resting across your thighs with his head directly under your chin.

 “What are you doing?”You asked.You couldnt deny it, it was quite a comfortable position. “Im trying to help.I saw this thing on Tik Tok the other day that if you lay on someone its like a weighted blanket and helps with stress.”He explained, pulling your comforter up over your bodies.

It only took you a matter of seconds to fall asleep, Kelce grinning.The feeling of cuddling someone helped him too, a small sigh escaping his lips as he closed his eyes as well, falling asleep before Rafe pulled into your driveway with a pizza in the backseat.

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[before-we-get-started]

Dream Come True

Colin Shea x O/C Corinne MacAdam

Multi-Chapter Story - Complete

Summary: Colin Shea and his band Rock the Cradle are finally making it big - until something unexpected happens. When he meets a girl that makes him reconsider his player ways, he thinks his life may be coming together, until she blows it apart.

Warning: Bad language, smut, suicidal ideations - no one under 18, please

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please do not read if you are underage. I do not own the character of Colin Shea; the rest are my original characters. By reading beyond this point, you understand the disclaimers as posted.

Chapter Five

On Monday, she woke up with a new outlook. Today she’d start a new job, something much different than working for the events management company. Serving as personal assistant to a family friend, an heiress and philanthropist, eccentric and a spinster, but a very nice woman. Cori’s mother had reminded her that her new boss, Ms. Robbins, was prone to mood swings (and forgetting things), but that she’d treat her fairly and appreciate her hard work.

On a whim on Sunday, she’d decided to color her hair. She bought a kit and gave herself light blonde highlights, lightening the chestnut brown. She looked as if she’d been out in the sun, as if maybe she had a healthy outdoor lifestyle, not like she’d been holed up feeling sorry for herself for months.

She dressed in a chocolate brown business suit with a cream blouse, a bow tied at the neck. She put on her brown pumps and some with the crème filigreed toe accent and grabbed her purse. For good luck, she put on the pearl drop earrings her parents had gotten her for her 16th birthday. She’d prepped her lunch the night before and grabbed the thermal bag from the frig, along with her travel coffee mug. She had plenty of time to make the T to the Back Bay neighborhood where Ms. Robbins lived.

As she’d finished getting ready, “Walking on Sunshine” by Katrina and the Waves had been playing on the radio. She found herself singing it softly as she left the apartment. “I’m walking on sunshine – yeah!” she sang, a little louder than she planned, as the door to 6A opened. Colin emerged in his boxers. He bent down to pick up a newspaper, then stood up and took a good look at her as she walked by.

“Mornin’ 6C,” he said with that gorgeous smile. His eyes ran over her from head to toe and she could almost feel it.

She smiled back, gazing over her shoulder as she walked by. “Mornin’ 6A. Have a good day.” She kept walking down the stairs, her optimism bubbling up. What a great way to start the day – Colin in his boxers. She smiled to herself, descending the stairs, holding on to the wooden rail. She looked up just long enough to see Colin, arms on the railing, leaning over to watch her.

“You have a good day, too,” he said, lingering as she bounced her way down and out of the building.

Ms. Robbins lived in a huge terracotta brick home on Newton Street. The house had been divided up into condos and she occupied the entire first floor. It was just her and Yaz, her Yorkie (Ms. Robbins was a lifelong Red Sox fan). Cori had been to her home twice before – once as a child for a dinner party, and once a few weeks ago for her job interview. She entered the front door and rang the bell at the door on her left, the entry to Ms. Robbins’ home.

“’S open!”

Cori entered and walked into the main living area, adorned with floral wallpaper in greens and blues. Wood three-quarter round trim stained a honey color trimmed the room and honey colored hardwoods peeked out from a solid blue area rug. There was a Steinway piano, a Victorian couch and chair and a coffee table in the room, along with built-in shelves that held items from around the world, secured during Ms. Robbins’ travels.

“It’s Cori,” she said in a singsong voice. Yaz came streaking into the room, yapping ferociously. She bent down and petted the silky hair around the blue bow tied around a small tuft on his head. He returned the gesture with little licks to her hand.

“Good morning!” Ms. Robbins had cornered the market on brocade dresses. Every time Cori had ever seen her, she was in some type of beautiful brocade. Today’s was a kelly green/ecru paisley that was beautiful against her ivory skin and auburn hair. In her mid-60’s, she was medium height and quite fit, a few lines on her porcelain skin but they weren’t too noticeable with her impeccable makeup. She was holding a number of envelopes as she entered the room.

She hugged Cori and extended her arms, getting a look at her. “Cori, you look absolutely gorgeous. I’m so excited we’ll be working together.”

Cori smiled. “I am too Ms. Robbins. I really appreciate this opportunity.”

“I’m going to keep you busy,” she said. “Now let me show you around so we can get to work.” She led Cori through a formal dining room, complete with a giant ornate wood table and chairs, into a kitchen that had obviously been recently remodeled. Tall white cabinets, a beautiful light gray granite and a white subway tile backsplash, with larger square ceramic tiles and a beautiful mosaic tile providing a pop of color behind the large stainless Bertazzoni range. The kitchen was immaculate – Cori wondered if any food had ever actually been prepared in the room.

“You can put your lunch bag here,” she said, pointing to the giant SubZero frig, “and are you a coffee drinker?”

“Yes Ma’am,” Cori said, shaking her travel mug in front of her.

“Wonderful! I have a coffee station here, there are an assortment of flavors. Lots of creamer in the frig. Help yourself,” she said, waving her arm in front of the high-end coffee maker like it was up for bids on The Price is Right.

She showed Cori the powder room and where she could store her coat and any other items she brought with her. “I want you to feel at home. Help yourself to whatever you find in the kitchen. If you can’t find something, just let me know. Mi casa, su casa,” she said with a smile.

Cori felt a surge of excitement, for the hospitality and for the unknown opportunity that lied ahead.

They made their way to the office, just off the living area with beautiful French doors in the same honey wood. The walls were done in a green wallpaper with wide green velvet stripes. The honey floors carried in and there was a large mahogany desk, built-in bookcases behind it and a high-backed leather office chair.

“This is your workspace now,” Ms. Robbins said. “You’ll find a variety of office supplies in the desk and in the cabinet on the wall. If what you need isn’t here, make a list and – well – I’ll send you out to buy it,” she smiled.

Cori laughed. “Yes ma’am,” she said with a laugh.

“And how about if you call me Amelia. ‘Ma’am’ and ‘Ms. Robbins’ make me feel old.”

“Ok Amelia,” she said. “I love that name.”

“And I love yours. My mother’s name was Corinne. I’m named after my father’s mother. Thank goodness, my mother’s mother was Agatha.” They both laughed.

“I thought we’d operate this way – this new laptop is yours. You can use it here and take it home if you ever need to work after hours. In this book (she opened a leather-bound journal), there are sections. The first will be for your schedule. I’ve written what I’d like you to do this week here,” she said, pointing at a page behind the first tab. “The second section will be for lists. I’ve written this week’s date and a list of items I need you to purchase. The third section will be for your hours. Sign in and out each day, and be sure to include any evening or weekend hours, there will eventually be some. I’ll check it on Fridays, send the hours to my accountant and he’ll transfer money to your account on Monday morning, so pay weekly. Does that work?”

“Yes,” said Cori. “That works perfectly.”

“Great. Whenever you need to go out, Gerald will be available with the car. Let’s take today to get you familiar with the house, the neighborhood and the things I’ll expect you to do. We’ll have lunch on Beacon Hill today because it’s so gorgeous out and tomorrow will be your first actual day with work.”

And so the day progressed, Ms. Robbins doing all the things she promised. After getting familiar with more of the house and where things were stored, they sat in the office and discussed her upcoming calendar and events, and the other tasks she’d expect Cori to accomplish. At 11 a.m. they walked out front where Gerald and the car were waiting. They climbed in the back and Ms. Robbins directed the driver to “run the tour route.” They wove through the streets of the neighborhood and those that bordered. She showed Cori her preferred market, florist, office supply store and other shops. Cori made notes as they went. When they’d finished the tour, the driver stopped in front of a bistro in Beacon Hill with a low brick wall that surrounded a courtyard full of outdoor tables under bright red umbrellas.

“Ms. Robbins, so good to see you. Right this way.” The host showed them to a table tucked away in the back corner of the courtyard. Almost as soon as they were seated, a server set glasses of ice water and iced tea in front of them with a little bowl of lemon wedges. The host handed Cori a menu.

“Will you be having your usual today?” the host asked.

“Yes Phillip. But please give Ms. MacAdam a minute to look.”

“Of course.” The host left the table, passing another server who set a two baskets on the table, one with fresh hot breadsticks in a linen cloth bed and the other little pats of cold butter.

Cori inhaled the smell of the fresh bread, closing her eyes.

“A carb girl, a girl after my own heart,” Ms. Robbins said, pulling out two breadsticks and handing one to Cori.

“Maybe just one,” she said, using her knife to cut off a small wedge of butter and smearing it on the breadstick. She took a bite. “Oh my gosh,” she said softly.

“I know, right?” said Ms. Robbins. “Those breadsticks are my spirit animal.” They both laughed.

Cori chose a salmon salad with a lemon vinaigrette and Ms. Robbins got her usual Salad Niçoise and they chatted away, talking about Beacon Hill, their favorite Boston eateries, Cori’s family, and eventually, Cori’s recent past.

“I saw your mother last year at a benefit and she said you had found your dream job with Spalding Events. Was it not what you had hoped?”

Cori suddenly felt panicked. Ms. Robbins obviously didn’t know what had happened to her, or that she’d been unceremoniously dumped by the love of her life when he banged her best friend the night before their wedding. Just the thought of all of it made her a little dizzy. She took a deep breath. Get it together.

“It was wonderful, but I was in an accident-“

Ms. Robbins gasped quietly and reached for her hand. “Oh dear, are you ok?”

“Yes,” said Cori. “I am now. I actually stepped off the curb and got hit by a cab.”

This time the gasp was much more audible. “My word! Cori! That’s horrifying!”

“It was,” she said softly. “I suffered some serious injuries. The folks at Spalding were kind enough to let me keep working from home once I was able. But I had to do a lot of physical therapy, I moved back in with my parents. Honestly, I just needed a fresh start.” She left out the part about Matthew and Amber.

Ms. Robbins kept her hand on Cori’s, patting it softly. “I’m so glad you’re ok. I can’t imagine what your parents must have gone through as well. Your supervisor spoke very highly of you when I called. She said they’d have you back in a minute.”

“That’s really nice of them,” she said.

“Well, don’t worry. I know events are your specialty. We’ll start out slow but eventually, you’ll be planning my events. I love to entertain and especially to raise money for my foundation. You’ll be able to put that experience to work and for lots of good causes.”

Cori felt a rush of giddiness. Her own events. She loved the sound of that. This was exactly what she needed, what she’d hoped for.

“I can’t wait,” she said with a giggle.

“Good! Now, tell me, if I keep you late or ask you to work on weekends, will I be imposing on a relationship with your significant other? I understand that you have a life.”

The smile ran away from her face. “No, no significant other.”

“Well, then we’ll have more than one goal for our events, won’t we?” she said with a smile.

They finished lunch, which was delicious, and the driver took them back to Newton Street. The rest of the day was spent getting familiar with the office, files she’d need, Ms. Robbins’ rolodex and books from some of her previous events. There were photos and agendas and a list of all the companies used for each event. She recognized lots of them from working at Spalding.

Five o’clock was here before she knew it and she grabbed her bag and headed for the T. She left her lunch bag for tomorrow. The ride home was easy and she ascended the stairs of her apartment building, headed for the sixth floor. On Saturday night during the party, her neighbors said the elevator is almost always out. She was glad it was working when her father helped her move in.

She reached her floor and stared at 6A. She wondered if Colin was home, and if so, what he was doing. Impulsively, she knocked on his door. After a bit, he answered. He was in a Patriots t-shirt and athletic shorts, barefoot, his hair spikey and messy. He looked like maybe he hadn’t been awake for very long.

“Hey! How was your first day?” he said, smiling.

“Really good,” she said. “Very good. Hey, I was thinking, maybe you could come for dinner one night this week. You can tell me about your neighborhood watch program.”

He smiled. “You’ll be a good recruit and I never turn down a free meal. So yes.”

“Great, how about Wednesday at 7?”

“I’ll be there.”

As Cori walked away, she saw a leggy blonde coming off the last step and turning towards Colin’s door. She peered over her shoulder and saw him embrace her, then they shared a long, deep kiss. She noticed his long eyelashes laying on high cheekbones when he closed his eyes for the kiss. Cori felt her knees go weak. She wished for a second she was a leggy blonde.

“You came,” he said. “Nicole, right?”

“Nina,” the blonde corrected him.

“Yeah, Nina. Come on in.” He held the door open for her, placing his hand on the small of her back as she walked in. He looked over at Cori. “Night 6C.”

“Good night,” she replied. The door clicked behind him. Cori unlocked the door and went in, spending the rest of the evening thinking about that kiss. It wouldn’t be as good as the one she got from her mystery man, but she bet it was close.

Tuesday was a normal day, learning and exploring at work, then on Wednesday, she ran to the market after getting off the train to grab a few items. She was in by 5:30, giving her some time to prep dinner. She loved to cook. She wasn’t a chef by any means but she could hold her own. She’d decided to prepare a margherita pasta with shrimp for tonight, with a salad and strawberry shortcakes for dessert. She took a quick shower, put on a little makeup, pulled her hair up in a messy bun after dressing in jeans and an emerald green cold shoulder shirt and jeans and headed for the kitchen. She chopped tomatoes, onions, garlic and basil, seared the shrimp and boiled the pasta. She tossed the romaine salad with some vinaigrette. She set the table, opened a bottle of white wine and put it in an ice bucket, filled two glasses with ice water and as she was setting them on the table, there was a knock at the door.

She glanced in the mirror next to the door – she looked as good as she could, she supposed. She unlocked the door then opened it.

“Hey,” he said. She gasped softly. He was in a cobalt blue button up shirt, black belt, jeans and boots. There was a thin silver chain around his neck, a small silver medallion resting in the valley between his defined pecs. The edge of a tattoo peeked out where the shirt was unbuttoned. His hair was styled. He handed her a small bouquet of fresh flowers. “For you.”

She smiled, a smile that lit up her whole face, and took the flowers. “They’re beautiful. Come in.” She stepped out of the way and he walked the few steps in, making the step down into her living/dining room.

“Wow, it smells amazing in here,” he said, making a show of sniffing the air. “I can’t remember the last time I ate something that wasn’t in cardboard or Styrofoam.”

“I hope you like shrimp – and pasta,” she said.

“That sounds great,” he replied.

She pulled a vase out of the cabinet, added a little water and put the flowers in, setting them in the middle of the table. “Everything is ready,” she said, extending her arm toward the table. He sat down at one of the place settings and picked up the napkin, unfolding it and placing it in his lap.

“So how was day three?” he asked.

She pulled the pan of pasta from the stove and set in on the table. “Really good,” she said.

“Tell me more.”

“I’m a personal assistant for Amelia Robbins. She’s heir to Robbins Manufacturing. She has a house over in Back Bay.”

“Wow, nice neighborhood,” he said, eyeing the pasta she was putting on his plate.

“Very nice. She lives in a huge building full of condos. Her home is the entire first floor. It’s really pretty,” she said.

“So what kind of assistant stuff are you doing?”

“I run errands, do some shopping, manage her calendar. Eventually I’ll be her event planner. She hosts a number of fundraisers for non-profits throughout the year.”

He twisted the pasta around his fork and took a bite, stopping abruptly. He spoke but the words were unintelligible with a mouthful of food.

“What?” she said laughing.

He chewed and swallowed. “I said Holy Shit, this is amazing!” He loaded another fork full and shoveled it in. “Absolutely delicious.”

She was pleased. The evening would suck if the food was bad.

“I’m glad you like it,” she said, taking her own bite. It did taste pretty good.

They talked a little more about her job and then she asked about the band.

“So, what’s the name of your band?”

“Oh, Rock the Cradle – like, Boston is the Cradle of Liberty, and we definitely rock.”

“If I wanted to hear you, where would I go?”

“Finnegan’s, O’Leary’s, Rap’s, local bars,” he said.

“Mm,” she hummed as she finished a bite of pasta. “I’m envious. I always wanted to be in a band. I took piano and played in orchestra in high school. It must be great to take the stage and play your own music.”

He sighed, smiling broadly. “It is,” he said as he put his hand over his chest. “It’s the most incredible feeling. I’m addicted.”

“I’ll bet! And I’m sure you have a pretty incredible stage presence.”

“Well, I don’t mind bragging but yeah, I can wrap an audience up, no problem.”

Cori was impressed. “Just think, when you get that record deal, you’ll already be great at performing live.”

His face dropped then. He looked down at his plate. “We took a break for a while a few months ago. There were some things I had to work through.”

“I’m sorry,” she said. “Did the break help?” She couldn’t help but wonder – guys in bands were often partiers. Did he have a drinking problem? Drugs? He didn’t seem the type, but you never knew what someone else was going through. She stirred the fork around in her plate. “If you guys are that good, I’m sure you’ll get another chance.”

He looked up at her and smiled sheepishly, like a little boy. “It gave me some time to think, and yeah, exactly. I tell the guys that all the time.” He didn’t sound like he believed it.

She smiled, feeling sad for him. He was obviously incredibly disappointed. That sweet smile was gone and she found herself wanting to give him a hug. “Probably get a better record deal next time anyway.”

He smiled. “Exactly. That’s what I told the guys. Everything happens for a reason.” He pulled the fork across his plate, scraping up the last possible bite.

She smiled, happy he liked it so much. “Dessert?” she said sweetly.

His face suddenly shifted and through hooded blue eyes, he smirked and purred, “I never turn down dessert.”

Cori felt the heat flush her cheeks. “Sorry to disappoint you, just strawberry shortcake.”

He laughed. “Ok, I’ll settle for that.”

He picked up the plates from the table and took them to the sink while she pulled the sponge cake, strawberries and whipped cream from the frig. She pulled two ramekins from the cabinet and with a knife, cut circles of cake to fit in the little cups. Colin stood next to her at the counter, peering over her shoulder.

“That looks so good,” he said, reaching over and sticking his finger in the whipped cream. She pulled the bowl away from him.

“Patience,” she laughed. “Go sit.”

He strode to the couch, dropping himself against the throw pillows.

Cori thought about how comfortable all of this was. Dinner together, easy banter, affectionate looks. Everything she thought she’d have by now, with Matthew.

She stared down at her hands and sighed. Colin was sweet and dangerously sexy, but he was just another Matthew. Having a variety of girls was his trademark. Besides, she wasn’t even in the league with the other girls she’d seen at his place.

She shook her head to clear the thought and grabbed two spoons, carrying their desserts to the couch.

Colin admired the sweet treat as she handed it to him. “You’re one incredible cook,” he said, dipping his spoon in and snagging a little of each layer. He hummed as he enjoyed the first bite. “Man, I could get used to this,” he said, smiling at her.

“Well, stay on my good side and I’ll fatten you up.”

He laughed. “Hey, the body is part of the show. But I’ll take my chances.”

They finished and she took their cups. She was so enjoying his company, she spoke before she could think about it. “So, I was thinking, if you want, maybe we could watch a movie or play a game or something.”

Colin glanced at his watch and made a face, then bounced off the couch up the step to the front door and peered through the peephole. “Shit.”

“Everything ok?”

He stepped down from the door. “Can I take a raincheck? I need to get out of here.”

She hoped the disappointment that washed over her didn’t show. “Of course,” she said.

“Great. You’re the best. Thanks – for the best meal I’ve had in a long time.” He reached for her to pull her into a hug and as he touched her arm, they both felt as if lightning shot through them.

Colin jumped back. “Damn, what the hell?”

She wrapped her arms around herself. “I don’t know. The two of us together are dangerous,” she said with a smile.

He grinned and looked a little sad. “I’ve gotta go. Thanks again.” He unlocked the locks on the door and left, pulling it closed behind him.

She was a little dazed, lightheaded even after the moment. She hadn’t noticed any static electricity anywhere else. That was an enormous charge. She stepped up to the door and peered through the peephole. Her heart dropped. Colin’s back was to her and he was wrapped around another leggy blonde. Her arms were wrapped around his neck and her tongue was down his throat. He turned them around, never breaking the kiss, fumbled with the doorknob and opened the door, pulling her inside. The door closed.

She was right. Not even close to being in his league. She stepped down into the kitchen to clean up.

Monday morning’s alarm rang and she trudged through her normal routine. As she unlocked her door to leave, she heard voices in the hallway.

“I can’t. Look, I would if I could but I’ve got something else going on.”

“Colin, you always do this. I want to go on a date. A real date. You know I only want to be with you.” The voice was female.

She slowly opened the door, embarrassed to intrude on their conversation, but she had to go to work. She slowly stepped out, the conversation continuing.

“I appreciate that,” he purred, running his hands down her bare arms. She had raven hair that was pulled into a ponytail, tight yoga pants and a spandex workout top, her curves on display. “But there’s so much going on with the band, I just don’t have the time right now. You know I like you Brittany –“

“Brianna,” she corrected him.

He smiled that megawatt smile. “Yeah, Brianna.” He fidgeted a little as if trying to come up with what to say next.

Cori suddenly felt brave and started around the bannister. “Hey Colin,” she purred, smiling at him. “Tonight’s still date night, right?” She winked at him and kept walking, saying “See you at 7,” as she made her way down the stairs. She could still hear their conversation.

“You’re dating someone else! You said you weren’t!” Brianna was angry.

“No, she was just kidding,” Colin pleaded. “I’m not dating anyone. But my door is always open for you Brianna,” he said in the sexy low voice.

“As if,” she sniffed. “Goodbye Colin.” Cori could hear her stomping down the stairs above her. She stifled a laugh.

The week was going by quickly. Cori had joined her parents for dinner at one of their favorite spots and had just gotten home for the evening.

“I must’ve pissed you off pretty good, eating and running the other night.” Colin had opened his door and stood in the doorframe as she walked past.

“What do you mean?” she said with a smile.

“I mean telling that girl it was date night,” he said. She looked at him and there was a grin where she thought there might be anger.

“Hey, I was just doing you a favor. She left, didn’t she?”

“She sure did,” he laughed. “I’m sorry about the other night. I just wanted to say I’m sorry. That was a shitty thing to do. You took the time to cook for me, I could’ve at least stayed and helped clean up.”

“Not a big deal,” she said, unlocking the door. She smiled at him, a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. This was all they’d ever have, this banter back and forth, neighbors. She knew how big her crush was every time she saw him with another girl. Why was she attracted to guys she couldn’t have?

“You know,” he said, coming around the bannister towards her, “we could pick it up tonight, maybe watch a movie?”

She hesitated before answering. She had the luxury of the day off tomorrow, a three-day weekend. Ms. Robbins was going out of town and told her to take a break. She had turned the alarm off on her phone the moment she got the news, a Friday to sleep in. She took a deep breath and turned to look at him. “Sure.”

“Great!” he said and when she opened the door, she could feel him behind her he was so close. His woody, musky scent filled her nose. She felt something wash over, something she hadn’t felt for such a long time, a longing. She thought about the girls she’d seen wrapped around him, kissing him.

She’d never wished so badly she was someone else before. Would she ever be comfortable in her own skin, and not so desperate for her sexy neighbor?

As he walked past her into the living room, he ran his hand above her waist and once again, a shock went through them both that nearly knocked them off of their feet. Colin stumbled forward, catching himself on the sofa, Cori bracing against the kitchen counter.

“What the hell is up with your apartment?” he asked, rubbing his hand. “You need to have the super check your power. Something is definitely up.”

She caught her breath. “Maybe that’s my built-in ‘hands off’ alarm,” she said with a smile. “Wouldn’t want to get caught in a trap like those other girls and get all disappointed.” She’d tried saying it as a joke but her voice sounded sad.

“Look, I’m always honest with anyone I’m with. I don’t want anything long term. I like girls, I’m like any other guy. I just don’t have the desire to be with anyone for very long. I tried that once and it didn’t work. I’m not making that mistake again.”

“Must’ve gotten your heart broken pretty badly,” she said, trying to hide the sadness from her own failure.

“Against my better judgment I got involved with someone I thought might be the one. I was wrong. We wanted different things. Brought me right back to plan A,’ he said, bending down to look at DVDs on her shelf. “Besides, when the band takes off and we hit the road, the last thing I want is to leave someone behind and not be able to enjoy myself.”

“Well, I’ll give you that. At least you’re honest. And you’re not playing the field while you’ve got a fiancée on the string.” Her voice trailed off and she looked down, pissed at the tears that were burning at her eyes.

He stood up, a concerned look on his face. “Did that happen to you?” he said softly.

“Yes,” she said, barely audible.

“I’m sorry,” he said, really meaning it. “That sucks.”

“It does. And with my best friend, no less.”

“Ouch.”

She looked at him, willing the tears away that were rimming her eyes. “Pretty much almost ended my life, at least it felt like it. All of this, the apartment, the job, it’s just me trying to get a fresh start. It’s like I don’t know where I belong.”

He gave her that adorable half smile. “You seem like a great girl Cori. I’m sure there’s someone out there for you. And if you need someone to get you back in the saddle, I’m always available for a ride,” he smiled.

Her face broke into a smile. “That’s THE worst pick up line EVER!” she laughed and he laughed too.

“Yeah, that was bad even for me,” he said, running his hand through his spikey hair to the back of his neck, letting it linger there. Every move he made turned her on. This was torture.

“Ok,” he said, desperate to change the subject and spinning towards the TV. “I suggest a comedy, nothing too heavy tonight.”

“Agree!” She pulled two bottles of beer from the frig and threw a bag of popcorn into the microwave. When it was done, she joined him and they started the movie. There was no conversation, just laughter. He’d made himself at home on the couch with his feet on the coffee table. She tucked her legs up under her in the chair. She’d made a friend. That was the takeaway. It wasn’t sad, it was happy.

When the movie ended, he cleaned up the beer bottles and popcorn and headed for the door. “This was great, I hope we can do it again.”

“Me too,” she said with a smile.

“Hey, what are you doing Saturday night?”

She wished she had a fabulous night planned, but the truth was it would be her, her jammies, some wine and a good book. “Nothing really,” she said.

“Great! Come down to Rap’s. The band is playing at 8. It’s just down the street.”

“I know it, Rapscallion’s, right?”

“Yeah, it’s going to be a big weekend for us. We’re playing a festival Saturday afternoon and at Rap’s on Saturday night.”

“Wow, that’s awesome. I’m glad you’re back on track.”

“Yeah, it feels good,” he said. “So you’ll be there Saturday?”

She didn’t hesitate. “Yes, I’ll be there.”

He clapped his hands together. “Awesome.” He stepped up to the door, gave her a wave and left.

Cori suddenly felt deflated. The biggest player on the planet just spent the evening with her and didn’t even try to make a move on her. Of course she’d been an idiot and acted uninterested. But she should be uninterested, she’d been down this road before.

Saturday would be fun. She’d get a friend to go with her. Who knows, maybe she’d meet someone more in her league.

[inspiredlivingspaces]

IG @interiordesignassistantuk

[jonathanlegate]

I use a lot of colour. But not always. That’s when texture really comes into play. This beautiful steam shower uses marble herringbone, ceramic artisanal subway tile and dado, quartz bench and mother of pearl mosaic. All neutrals all but the quartz full of texture and subtle pattern play. #bathroom #bathroomdesign #interiors #interiordesign #halifax #halifaxdesigner #classicinterior #elegantbathroom #liveableluxury #novascotiahomes (at Nova Scotia) https://www.instagram.com/p/CQGbpygJEY6/?utm_medium=tumblr

[thelure]

MARGAUX WILL AVERY: Scorpio Sun, Gemini Moon, Libra Rising~

moody | paranoid | impulsive | spiteful | stubborn | petty | honest | brave | ambitious | intelligent | confident | clever | 

dried flowers in the kitchen, the view of lighting rolling through clouds from an above broomstick view, small ferns on iron stands turning brown in the corner of a bathroom, subway tiles and antique crystal glasses, dead ancestors and expressionist art hanging on lavender walls, morning dew creating halos around street lamps, the angry slam of doors being heard through brownstone walls, peach lips and faded freckles, wine stains on teeth and old hand-me-down rugs, squirrels fighting in a park tree, walking home alone before dawn, navy dress pants cropped at the ankle and a trench coat cinched tightly at the waist, the wafting smell off coffee brewed after 8pm, storm winds shaking glass windows, bees stinging your skin, nocturnes playing on her grandfather’s gramophone, wet earth and hard cliff stone, a lone diamond and pearl earring hanging from an ear- the other one gone missing some hours ago. 

( discord: mikaela#1317 )

[ceramictec]

Finished and final photos of the Bexley" Land O Lakes, Florida backsplash. Tile is a 3x8 Zellige "Pearl Opal" in a subway pattern

[4lornly]

six thousand strands. that's how many pearls would fix in my stomach, in case you were wondering.

I have just awoken from a dream in which I am a young man in a nice apartment in the city. it has a balcony and lots of red subway tile.

in the dream, someone asks me why I have so many bathrooms with so many showers. I tell them it's a quirk of the building. older than some hills, though not all of them. really it's because I am pretending I am clean.

red subway tile hides blood quite well, in case you were wondering.

and eating your riches is the only way to take them to the grave, and pearls seem far more appetizing than your dirty money, so I swallow them, one after the next.

all six thousand strands. I wonder, will they turn back to sand inside me? it doesn’t matter, my life is already re-painting the tiles red.

--how many pearls // 4lornly

[macbetha]

Preview 2 of Part II of Alone Together: A MakoHaru Zombie Apocalypse AU (preview one here) 

When Haru wakes up later that night, Asahi and Kisumi are asleep on the train floor curled up on either side of Tsukushi as usual. Haru picks up his flashlight and tiptoes over them on his short trip across the gloomy subway station to the bathroom. It’s haunting, wandering through an abandoned place that once bustled with life; it’s a new wave of disturbance-normalized. He yawns and swings open the bathroom door only for his heart to shoot up his throat. A lantern sits on the floor, casting warm shadows over the tiles, sensuous. He imagines a night in a bedroom full of dark promise would be lit no differently. The space looks so much more confined with Makoto’s frame standing so tall, casting shadows of his own. His bulky cargo pants are slung low over the ridges of his hips and Haru’s eyes climb the twin rows of Makoto’s abs. They flex with Makoto’s sharp inhale and Haru’s gaze snaps to the full of him, taking in everything and nothing all at once – Makoto’s hunched over the sink, frozen with a rag half-way to his face. Haru blinks dazedly at the realization that he was hiding freckles under the grime on his nose, and his throat is wet, dripping – “Oh – hi.” Makoto’s gaze drops like he doesn’t know what else to do or say. “Hey,” Haru huffs out, lungs malfunctioning. Neither of them move for a moment until Makoto straightens up. “I’m, uh, almost finished –” Haru waves him off and somehow makes it over to the sink in his muddled trance, stomach lost somewhere at his feet. “It’s fine.” Hell no it’s not, but what else is he supposed to do? He could wait for Makoto to finish washing up, but there’s something between them that would make his exit look like rejection. So Haru shuffles over to the sink and sets his flashlight and rag on the counter. He takes a glance at the mirror and mortification knifes his stomach – he’s filthy and sickly thin, but he can’t make this situation weird by being hesitant. So he drags off his cap, wincing when dust billows off his hair. Makoto is deathly quiet the entire time, the muffled splash from the sink the only indicator that he’s even still alive. Haru keeps razor-focus on the mirror as he soaks the rag and drags it across his neck, but he can’t help but sigh at the feeling of cold water – dust liquifies under the cloth, rolling down his throat in thin gray rivers. He smears the rag over his face, staring into the mirror and marveling at the boy who appears under the coating of grime. He doesn’t look like he remembers; physically, he’s gaunt with sunken eyes that look too big for his face, cheekbones sharpened by starvation. But he can also tell just how much he’s changed under the skin. He was never an expressive person, his features usually levelled in indifference, but now he’s disturbingly hardened. Only animals have such a look in their eyes. Sadness tightens his chest as he mourns his reflection in absolute silence. There’s a shift of weight to his left, and Makoto’s voice is gentle. “I have some soap if you want it.” Haru blinks back to himself and nods faintly at Makoto’s outstretched hand. He takes the soap with a brush of their fingers, come to find out that touching is a dozen times more intense when their skin is wet. Moving right along from that revelation, Haru bows his head into the sink to wash his hair while Makoto shaves. It seems as though he’s become an expert at shaving with a knife rather than a razor, his motions infinitely careful as he swipes the blade this way and that across his chin, using some sort of gel-slime Asahi made for such a task. The situation is domestic and surreal in equal parts. Dirt-rings stain the sink when Haru’s finished, but he can’t even describe how heavenly it feels to have clean hair. Even his head feels lighter. He feels the weight of a gaze and Haru glances at Makoto, who blushes as he turns back to his own mirror. He clears his throat while rubbing a towel across the back of his neck. “Your hair is darker than I thought it’d be.” Haru doesn’t know what to say to that or why it makes his stomach spin. “What color did you think it was?” Makoto shrugs with a sheepish grin. “Brown, maybe. I mean, I assumed it was dark, but – it’s black. Really black, like, almost blue.” He’s just making a statement, it’s nowhere near a compliment, but Haru still ducks his head to smile. “Thanks?” “It’s – you’re really pretty.” His face flashes hot. Slowly, he turns to face Makoto, but he realizes in that moment with thickening air and pulsing tension that he doesn’t have to say anything. He never knew words could be carried through gazes alone, but Makoto’s staring at him and saying everything he doesn’t have the courage to voice. Haru lifts his chin, feeling absurdly pleased with himself for some reason. His gaze drifts to the ink peeking from the inside of Makoto’s bicep and Makoto follows his gaze. “They’re sparrows.” He spreads his arm and turns it over as Haru steps closer to see. Sure enough, it’s two birds perched on twigs, their beaks turned upward to the heavens, eyes round with innocence. Haru finds himself reaching out like a flower stretching toward sunlight. He smoothes his thumb over the ink before he can stop himself, but he likes how warm and firm Makoto’s skin is, likes how he can feel the steadiness of his muscles underneath, so he keeps it there. “Do they mean anything?” Why, why, why does he care? Why does he ache to know? Makoto’s eyes fall half-lidded with a nostalgic smile. “One for each of my siblings. They were twins.” “What about the tattoo on your leg?” “Which one?” Now there’s a discovery Haru just might not be too lazy to make, but he refrains. At least for now. Makoto crooks a grin. “The one on my thigh?” At Haru’s nod, he says, “I, um – kind of adopted this weird philosophy after the world ended. When things used to scare me, I wouldn’t even acknowledge them and that made it harder to face them when I didn’t have a choice.” He shrugs as he looks down at himself, all the roving ink across the dips and grooves of him. “So I… came up with this idea to make myself see everything I was scared of before I actually had to go through it. Kind of like, looking at everything at a distance even though it’s right there, on me.” He ducks his head with another handsome, bashful laugh. “Sorry, it sounds so weird saying it out loud.” “It’s not weird,” Haru says, voice soft in the warmth between them. He arches a brow at Makoto’s hesitant hopefulness, quoting his very words: “We’re all dealing with this differently.” Redness seeps down Makoto’s throat as he mumbles, “The one on my thigh, it’s – it’s like an ocean in the bottle.” “You’re scared of water?” That’s – awful. “It’s just the ocean that makes me kind of nervous.” His smile turns self-deprecating. “Even now, after all of this.” Haru’s brows crease with a reassuring hum and a shake of his head. He might not understand Makoto’s fear but it’s not his place to, either. He should probably stop touching him now, it’s getting to a point that’s beyond polite curiosity, but the concept of boundaries is distorted in today’s world – either the walls are up and never coming down or people are hungry in more ways than one: starved for human contact and the emotion a touch can have. Makoto looks like he needs to be touched. So Haru taps at the tattoo sleeve of Makoto’s right arm. “What about all of this?” Makoto points to the line-art of an open clamshell with a pearl inside. “That’s for Kisumi. You know, since he wears that string of pearls.” He moves to the blood-red silhouette of a flying cardinal. “Asahi.” He flips his arm over to show the inside of his forearm and smiles at the tiny handprint. “Tsukushi. That’s actually his real handprint; he accidently got into the ink when he was just learning how to crawl, so me, Asahi and Kisumi put the print on some newspaper and traced it for tattoos. Their tattoos are over their hearts.” Haru’s eyes widen. “You got all of these after the zombies came?” Makoto chuckles with a nod. “Yeah.” He sweeps a hand over the ink fondly. “Asahi does them, though. I think art helps him.”   Haru’s brows scrunch then lift. “So these are… people you’re afraid of losing?” “Yes. And – and people I’ve already lost.” He glances at the twin birds on his bicep. Haru flattens his palm against Makoto’s naked chest, making his pec flinch. He studies the ink over his heart, the circular wind of ink with dial hands aimed north. “A compass?” Makoto parts his lips but doesn’t speak for a moment; the mere sensation of Haru’s hand leaves him speechless before he finds his voice. “My dad had one. I’m scared of getting lost by myself.” Being alone. Fingertips glide up Haru’s sleeve to the tattered cuff at his wrist. The space between them feels hotter, tighter; the walls are closing in like an embrace that he doesn’t know how to accept. “Sorry,” Haru whispers, but his hand is pinned to Makoto’s skin. He’s magnetized to him, palm drinking in a warmth that’s so much different than sunlight. Makoto watches him as he places his hand over Haru’s. In the pulsing silence, the drip of water from the sink is heavy and amplified; a droplet rolls down Makoto’s temple and melts into the tiles below. The rasp of his fingers has tingles swarming the back of Haru’s neck, but Makoto notices the hesitancy in Haru’s eyes and whispers, “I’m so sorry you’re afraid of people.” His sincerity alarms Haru, but the sharp shock quickly fades into something very warm and loud in his ears. “But I hope you know that I’ll protect you as long as you’re here.” He crooks a smile. “Even though you’ve kept me safe more than I have you.” Haru reels but his voice is just a lost whisper. “Why?” Why would you even want to protect me? Makoto is not impassioned, nor is he looking at him with the weight of an uncomfortably intense and sudden confession. His words are entirely simple. “Because I want you to be safe. And happy.” That alone is enough to make Haru’s eyes sting. With a careful breath, Makoto laces their fingers together over his heart and Haru is so fucking confused at how anyone could share such kindness like it isn’t the rarest thing in the world. Bitterness leaves his insides cold because the softest touches hurt the worst these days; feeling the grooves of Makoto’s knuckles is a sensation more powerful than the deepest of hunger pains. Every time Makoto’s patched him up these last few days, Haru hasn’t been able to stop remembering what it was like to have Makoto’s hands on him. Physical contact is a biological demand that all of them have. Even him, even after being afraid of it for so long. Touching is a need as much as food and water; it’s a requirement his body and the last remnants of his soul are screaming for in this moment.