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supercorpkid · 4 years ago

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This is why you should never trust an Imp – Part 1.

Supercorp, Kara Danvers x Daughter!Reader, Lena Luthor x Daughter!Reader

Word count: 2475.

“Oh hey” You say when you see Jamie walking towards you.

“Don’t ‘oh hey’ me.” Jamie says rolling her eyes.

“I see you got my note.” You point at her hand and she frowns in response.

“Of course I got your note, you taped it in to my forehead while I was sleeping.” She opens the note and does her best impression of you. “Dear Jamie, come alone to the training center, I need your help. Signed: Little Danvers.”

“Yeah.” You smile proud of your ability of sneaking into her bedroom, and not waking anyone up. Jamie breathes heavily, not very proud of you.

“You couldn’t wake me up and like, fly me here?”

“I guess.” You actually didn’t think about that. “But then I wouldn’t have anything to do with the note, and it was already written.”

“You could’ve, I don’t know, thrown it away?” She shakes her head and her hand goes to her forehead. “Why are we here? Why are we not at school?”

“Oh right, this is very important.” You point to the chair next to you, and wait until she’s seated. “Do you remember an imp from the fifth dimension called mister mxflafopolis?”

“What?” Jamie thinks about it for a second. “Wait, you mean Mister Mxyzptlk?”

“How do you do that? With your tongue?” You ask and then spend five minutes, with Jamie’s help, trying to pronounce his name, unsuccessfully.

“Oh my God, we’re wasting time! Just tell me why I’m here.” She finally snaps.

“Right, well mister whatever his name is, came to me last night and he had an interesting proposal. So, he said-”

“Nope. Bad idea.” She interrupts you.

“You don’t even know what it is!”

“He’s an imp from another dimension, dipshit, I don’t have to listen to it to know it’s bad.” Jamie gets up from the chair mentioning that she’s about to leave.

“Ok, but just hear me out.”

“No! I want nothing to do with it.” Jamie looks back at you. “I know you long enough to know that you’re going to do something stupid. So, the less I know, the less I can say when I’m being interrogated by our moms.”

“But-but, Jamie! You have to know! What if he double crosses me or something?”

“Do you even hear yourself? If there’s a chance for him to double cross you, do you actually think it’s a good idea?” She asks and you know she’s right. You know better than to trust an imp. You’re much, much smarter than that. But then again, you’re also not.

“Fine, fine.” You say so you can ease her mind. “Come on, I’ll fly us to school so we’re not late.”

“Actually, my mama is waiting outside in the car.”

“I thought I told you to come alone.”

“How would you expect me to get here without her help?” You roll your eyes thinking you should’ve picked her up, so aunt Kelly wouldn’t have anything to do with it. But in the end, as you sat in the backseat of her momvan, she just asks if everything is alright and takes you both to school without further questions. Maybe she, too, knows that the less she knows the better.

The whole way there you could only think about the proposal. He wants to show you your future. You are desperate to know. You need to know what you’ll become. You need to know what you’ll choose: science, powers, or something else completely.

Jamie doesn’t understand, well, she didn’t hear the proposal in the first place. But even if she had, she probably wouldn’t understand. You’re asked so much; people expect so much from you. You NEED to know if you will live up to their expectations. You need to know that if you choose to become a superhero, that Lena wouldn’t be disappointed, or the other way around.

So, before you even realize, it’s decided. You’re going to take him on his offer. You’re going to the future. And the only thing he said it was a rule is that you have to stay there for two days. Easy peasy.

“Mister mxytopolopolis.” You call him as soon as you’re back home from school. He doesn’t come. “Oh Rao, what was his name again?” You look at the paper he left you and the instructions that say ‘just call my name’. “Ok, let’s try this again. Mister Mxytlk… No wait. Mxyztelk? Shit! That’s not it. Mister Mxyzptlk!”

And just like that he is in front of you.

“I’m interested. Let’s do it. Let’s go to the future!”

“Well, actually, dear. You’re going to the future. I’ll go pick you up in two days like we agreed on.” He says and you shake your head agreeing.

“Wait, wait, wait. But what if-” But before you’re finished, he pushes you through a portal and you drop high from the sky on the ground.

You look around, still lying on the floor. You are still in National City, and you’re lying on the ground of a park. There are people walking, talking and laughing. You look at the buildings and frown. Everything looks exactly the same. The future doesn’t look really futuristic, and you wonder how many years into the future you are.

“Hey kid. You dropped really high from that tree. Are you ok?” You smile at your momma all dressed in her Supergirl suit. She doesn’t look much older, but you know she ages at a different pace.

“I’m ok, momma.” You smile supporting yourself on your elbow so you can sit down. She quickly holds your arm and helps you up.

“Are you sure, kid?” She asks and you shake your head agreeing. “’Cause you just called me momma.” She looks around. “Are you lost? Is your mom here?”

“What?” You ask confused and she smiles.

“I’m Supergirl, kid. C’mon. I’ll help you look for your mom.” She reaches out to you and you stand up. “Was she here with you?”

“Are you kidding me?” You ask dumbfounded. “You don’t know me?”

“No. Should I?” Kara asks and you look around. Heart racing and a lot of questions racing through your mind. Why doesn’t Kara know who you are? She must’ve listened to your heartbeat, because her hands go to your shoulders. “Hey, hey, calm down. It’s ok. Did you hit your head? I can take you to the hospital.”

“No. No. I’m-I’m ok.” You say, letting yourself go of her, and walking backwards. “Really, thank you for your help Supergirl. I should get going.” You point at your watch. “I should be in school.”

“Wait.” Kara holds your forearm and furrows her brows. She is looking at the watch and you hold your breath. “Where did you get that?”

“Oh, the watch? It’s, um, family heirloom.” You’re scared she might open it and see it’s actually the super watch, so you have to distract her. You look at her hand. There’s a ring, she’s married. “I didn’t know Supergirl was married.”

She smiles while nodding, and she also looks at her ring getting distracted from the watch thing. You finally let out a breath.

“Do you have kids?”

“I don’t.” She then looks right into your eyes. “That’s so weird, you look so familiar. You kind of look like me when I was young.” You smile at the compliment. Then stop yourself. “What’s your name, kid?”

“Uh, my name? Um…” You look around. You can’t tell her your real name, you don’t know what year you’re in, and she seems confused with your existence. And she just said she doesn’t have kids. Wait. She doesn’t have kids?

“Did you forget your own name?” She looks worried. The crinkle in her forehead is almost showing and you blurt out before it does. You hate when she gets worried.

“No! I know my name. My name is Le…” Don’t say Lena, dumbass! She probably knows who Lena is. “Lexa!”

Really? All the names in the universe and you decided to go with a variation of Lex? Gross.

“Oh, well, nice to meet you, Lexa.” She smiles and you can’t help but smile too.

“You too, Supergirl! You are very nice. Well, I should go now. Thanks for the help and all. Have a great day! Ok, bye.” You run as fast as you can, but it’s not so fast that Kara would notice that you have powers. You stop in an alley nearby and breathe heavily. What is happening? When exactly in the future did Mxylopolik send you anyway? And if you’re really in the future, why doesn’t Kara know about your existence?

Ok, first things first. You need to find out what year you’re in, but you are very aware that it would be very strange if you just grabbed someone at random and asked them what year it is. No, you need another way to know.

You get out of the alley and see someone about your age coming in your direction. Ok, don’t be weird, don’t freak him out.

“Hey. Sorry. Hope I’m not disturbing you, I just… Someone just robbed me, and I was wondering if I could use your phone to call my mom.”

“Yeah. Sure.” The guy unlocks his phone and hands it to you. You go to the calendar very fast and check the date. Ok, you are two years in the future. So, you were supposed to be 17. You give back his phone. “Aren’t you going to call?”

“Oh. I don’t have her phone memorized. Isn’t it weird how we just don’t remember numbers anymore? Anyways, thanks for your help, you’re very kind.” You wave goodbye and he just stares at you for a few seconds and then resumes walking.

So, you are in the future. But how is this your future if Kara doesn’t have any kids? I mean, she’s still married, but is she married to your mom or is this some alternative reality? You need to go see Lena.

The receptionist at L Corp doesn’t know who you are, you don’t know who she is either. She doesn’t want to let you go inside, so you distract her enough and use your superspeed to get into the elevator. When you get to the last floor, you look for your mom’s assistant. She isn’t at her desk. This might be a stroke of luck.

You see Lena’s name on the door. So, this isn’t an alternative reality where she isn’t the CEO anymore, which is good. You knock and she calls you in.

“Hey.” You don’t want to call her mom, if she doesn’t remember you that would be very hard to explain.

“Can I help you?” Lena takes one look at you and you’re sure. She has no idea who you are. Your heart drops in your chest, and you can feel the tears coming.

“Oh. Um. Yes, Mrs. Luthor.” You have to think of something. “I’m, well, my name is…” What was the name you made up again? “Lexa. And I’m…Um...”

“Did my assistant send you in?” She looks confused, and you feel the same way. What the fuck is happening? Why do your moms don’t remember you in the future? You feel so alone.

“I-I just have a question. About science. And you’re the smartest person on the planet, so I thought you would be the only one who could answer it.”

“Well, I don’t know about me being the smartest person on the planet.” Lena says with a chuckle. “But take a seat, Lexa. Let me see if I can help you.” She points at the chair in front of her and you breathe in relief. You were almost sure she was going to call security and throw you out. You look at her hand and there’s also a ring.

“Ok, let’s just say time travel exists…” You see her looking confused at the way you started, but she lets you continue. “And I don’t know, let’s say I go to the future.”

“There’s a lot of pretending in your scenario.”

“Right. But my question is… Do I stop existing in my own timeline?” You ask and she opens her mouth to answer, but nothing comes out. “You know, ‘cause, if my future is now my present, then my present becomes my past.”

“Yes.” She agrees so you can keep going.

“Right. So, if I left my present that is now my past then I cease to exist in the past. And I’m no longer in my timeline. That means, I only exist in this timeline, therefore no one remembers me, because I’m only existing here and now in the future, that is, you know, actually my present.”

“What is this for, again?” She asks and you scramble your brain for a good excuse. You were so distracted with how good your mom will look in two years. It’s kind of weird that she has a few grey hairs already, but she is totally pulling it off.

“School project. Y’know, I’m trying to prove that time travel doesn’t work, but I need a specialist opinion.” But apparently time travel works. Just not in a very nice way.

“I’m sorry to say that I’m no specialist in time travel.” Lena smiles. “But you seem to be going in the right direction. Just, um, maybe don’t speak like that in front of your classmates if you don’t want to get bullied.”

“Oh, it’s too late for that.” You smile shyly and she chuckles.

“How old are you, Lexa?”

“Fifteen.”

“Here.” She gives you her card. “When you turn eighteen, if you’re still into science like that, give me a call and you can come work for me.”

You want to tell her that you already work for her. That you have a whole lab for yourself. You want to stay here and keep talking to your mom, but you know she’s minutes away to ask you to leave. And since she has no idea who you are, she was already kind enough to waste her time on you. You take a look around the office quickly and you see a picture of your moms smiling at each other. At least that is still right in the future.

“Thank you, Mrs. Luthor. For your time, and kindness, and the card.” You smile putting it in your pocket. “You’re very nice. Have a great day!”

“You too, kid!” Lena smiles and you leave feeling like you got nowhere. Is your theory right? Did you stop existing to them?

You leave L Corp and go into an alley.

“Mister Mxy-freaking-polik.” Fucking shit. What was that asshole’s name again? Thankfully, his card is still in your pocket. You read it slowly. “Mister Mxyzptlk!”

He doesn’t come, and you know for sure that you said his name right. Rao, this is why you should never trust an imp.

Notes:

Am I writing a bunch of nonsense? Possibly. Please stay with me either way :)

#supercorp #supergirl #kara danvers #kara x lena #lena luthor #supercorp fanfic #supercorpfamily #kara x reader #lena x reader #supercorp daughter #reader insert

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mymelodyheart · 4 years ago

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Forget Me Not Chapter 5 ~Cours de Français~

Why is Jamie staring at my mouth like that?

He reminded Claire of a ravenous lion looking at his first meal in days, and herself as the sacrificial lamb waiting to be gobbled. She wondered if he could hear the snap and crackle in her chest and the pop of her exploding ovaries. Watching Jamie's head lowered closer to her face, his gaze still centred on her lips, Claire's heart gave a little kick. A maelstrom of mixed emotions battled its way to the surface, the echo of their childhood seemingly incongruous to what was transpiring. Summoning the memory of the sweet boy she once knew was in vain, and instead, reality had put in its place a man she barely recognised; rugged, masculine, and oh so seductive.

"I'll be damned if I allowed Frank to be yer first kiss," Jamie muttered, before grazing his tongue between her lips, forever, irrevocably blurring the lines of their relationship.

Jesus H.Roosevelt Christ! She refused to close her eyes, watching in fascination as he closed his. It was a mistake when her world spun upside down, and her equilibrium went off-kilter, making Jamie's face blur into two, before fusing back together. Oh Lord ! She was quite sure his heavy breathing had left condensation in her contact lenses or perhaps it had slid to the back of her eyeballs, causing the hazy focus.

He paused for a heartbeat, waiting for her to pull away. And when she didn't, with one large hand at her waist and the other cradling the back of her head, he drew her to him, his tongue gently urging her mouth to part before brushing his across hers in an achingly slow, feather-like sweep. Jamie tasted her the way he ate when he took a bite of the first French dessert he ever made, Coeur à la Crème ; a leisurely, savouring mouthful followed by a rapturous groan.

Hot! Hot! Hot! His work-roughened fingers were creating tiny sparks of fireworks on her skin as images began to form in her head. Visions of daffodils blooming in fast forward motion, choir boys at the village church singing Hallelujah as the organ struck a high note and fire hydrants erupting aerated water in the air, were floating in her mind. This was better than the chick flicks she used to watch, where "boy kisses girl" scenes had made her sigh dreamily.

Oh, dear God, what the hell is happening! First, Frank wanted to kiss her after their coffee date earlier, and now Jamie was enlightening her in the art of French kissing.

Shut up, Beauchamp! You've always wanted this- two former popular blokes from your school want you... so what are you complaining about?

That was back in school. And Jamie is my brother!

Where does that say he's your brother?

There's an unwritten rule...

Yeah, unwritten rule my arse! It's one that you made up. Just enjoy the kiss!

Claire wanted to act sophisticated, cool and dispassionate, unlike the bumbling, awkward geek she was often referred to when she was in school. Closing her eyes for the first time, she tried to relax in Jamie's arms, but it was proving to be a difficult feat when he was making all sorts of sounds at the back of his throat. She opened her mouth more, shyly kissing him back and to her surprise, Jamie's chest heaved, and his body trembled. He must have liked that! Feeling emboldened, Claire mimicked his movements, gliding her tongue over his, as her hands clutched at his shoulders and fingers dug into his muscles. Her audacity made Jame pull her harder against him, whooshing the breath out of her lungs. Her heart was pounding like mad as blood rushed through her ears, her legs turning into the consistency of Jamie's Sherry trifle when not fully set.

With Claire's response, Jamie's kiss became more demanding, as he slid his fingers through her hair, angling her head so he could run his tongue along her jawline. "Ye want me to stop, Sassenach?" he gritted his voice sounding like as though he'd been a month without a drink.

No don't stop! Claire could only shake her head. Jamie walked her backward until her back met the wall, shifting her awareness to his taut, solid muscles and arousal. She nearly giggled as his hard, giant appendage pressed against her belly, reminding her of Jenny's wooden rolling pin. Oh, sweet Lord! Stop thinking and keep up! Stop contemplating about his size, or all the practising it took to hone that perfect kiss or what the sounds behind his throat meant.

She was kissing back and shamelessly enjoying it, but how had she gotten here and why is Jamie kissing her? She hadn't expected to be kissed today, but here we are - first Frank making a move and now Jamie. Was it written on her forehead, "wants to be kissed" ? So many questions but they were all being swallowed up by riots of sensations that was alien to her. Not that she was totally naive - definitely not! Not after being introduced to Carter, Geillis' vibrator and soft porn, once again thanks to Geillis' collection from her internet browser's bookmarks.

Claire understood quite well the mechanics of kissing and what it can lead up to, but objectivity had no place in the present when her blood felt like bubbling sugar syrup. Maybe it had something to do with how Jamie looked at her, his eyes a peculiar hue of dark and intensity, and his jaws clenched and taut as a bowstring. How many girls had he looked at the way he was looking at her? Suddenly, she felt a pang of jealousy hit her with full blow in the abdomen and hated the thought of him looking at someone else like that, now that she had been on the receiving end. For crying out loud, Beauchamp, get a grip!

"Claire are you up there?" Bloody fucking hell, speaking of rolling pins, it's Jenny! When did she come home?

Their movements stilled, their lips parted as the spell cast between them broke.

"Coming!" Claire called out without taking her eyes off Jamie. She was surprised to discover Jamie's breath was laboured and harsh as hers; moreover, she was able to find her voice after the intensity of their kiss. Well, today was undoubtedly full of surprises. Whatever next?

"It's Frank! He says you dropped your phone in the parking lot!" Jenny shouted from the bottom of the stairs.

Oh, bummer... just what I needed! "Thanks, Jenny, will be there in a sec," she replied, hoping she sounded steadier than she felt. Her nerve endings still tingled, and there was a throbbing pulsing between her thighs. Claire needed to put a name to what she was feeling, but it can wait...Frank was downstairs.

Not trusting herself to speak, she made a move towards the door, but Jamie stopped her, grabbing her elbow as he pulled her to him once more for a brief, yet lingering kiss. When he finally released her, he stroked her cheeks. "Remember this when you talk to Frank," he murmured, the corner of his eyes crinkling as he smiled.

Oh, sweet Lord! Without saying a word, she staggered back, slamming her shoulders on the edge of the door frame before shuffling away.

..........

Frank was stood in the main doorway looking out, hands stuffed in the pocket of his jacket. He spun around as soon as he heard Claire approach. How rude of Jenny not to let him in!

"Hello, love, you dropped this as you got into the car," he said, waving her iPhone. "You reversed so quick, you probably didn't hear me call after you."

Claire knew well why she was trying to make a fast get-away from Frank earlier. He had wanted to kiss her, and she had retreated hastily in panic. Before she could reply, she heard Jamie coming down the stairs. Oh shite, I'm in a pickle! "Thanks for stopping by," was all she could say, trying to sound calm as she took her phone back from Frank.

"Are you alright? Your face looks a bit flush. I hope you're not coming down with something." Frank's one hand reached out to touch her forehead as a look of concern crossed his face.

"No...I'm alright. No, actually, I have this blasted headache. Maybe I just need to lie down," Claire explained, one hand reaching out to touch her head for emphasis. She wasn't fibbing this time as she felt Jamie stand behind her, one arm resting on the door above her head.

"Hey, Jamie...I just stopped by to drop Claire's phone."

"How are ye, pal, ages since I've seen ye...we ought to go for a couple of pints and catch up one of these days before the hotel opens," Jamie greeted his friend, his voice sounding absurdly normal, if not a bit too cheerful as if the kiss never happened. Looking down at the top of Claire's head, he smiled. "Claire's headache must be from the rigorous French lessons I've been giving her."

Claire choked on the air she inhaled, her face reddening over again.

"French lessons?" Frank's brow furrowed watching Claire fail miserably in suppressing a cough. He reached out to thump her on the back, but Jaime's hand got there first, massaging the area between her shoulder blades. "Well, Jamie's the man for anything French. He worked there for many years...blimey Claire, get yourself some hot toddy and go to bed..."

"No, really...I'm alright," she gasped, blinking away her watery eyes. Bloody hell Jamie! "But I think I will lie down before going out tonight..." Claire couldn't stand there any longer and have a normal conversation with Jamie and Frank. She knew her face was like an open book, and any second now, she will reveal what just ensued upstairs. What she needed was a few moments to herself to gather her thoughts.

"French lessons?" Jenny chimed in as she came out of the dining room and walked towards them with a box of empty bottles to be recycled. She placed them on the floor by the entrance, before straightening up. "Jamie, lad...I could do with some French lessons...maybe I'd join Claire during one of yer sessions."

This time it was Jamie's turn to choke, and this time it was Claire's turn to slap him on the back.

Taking it as her cue to leave and head for the safety of her bedroom, Claire gave Frank a quick peck on the cheek. "Right I'm off for a nap. See you, Saturday!" She didn't wait for a reply and hurried up the stairs. Once in her room, she locked the door, replaying Jamie's kiss over and over in her head, her date on Saturday already totally forgotten.

..........

Jamie looked at his watch...still ample of time to chop more woods before dinner in the Italian restaurant. He flipped off the split wood he was chopping on a tree stump and placed a new block. There were enough firewoods for the coming winter, but he needed to exorcise all the pent up energy that had accumulated after kissing Claire. Using a heavy sharp tool while being so epically predisposed to having a hard-on, coupled with the fast diminishing daylight, is quite a dangerous thing, and may result in an injury.

That possibility should have been enough to ease the pressure in his cock, but after that kiss, he knew there was no relief. Every time he allowed his mind to wander, it always returned to Claire. Sure, he was in love with her and always had been, but this is now a totally different ballgame. He was no longer a boy, and it was no longer enough just to hold her hand and be content to have her by his side. He wanted more, but there was Frank too. He surmised Claire was a virgin after that little detail of not having been kissed slipped out. The thought of Frank taking her innocence made his stomach churn. They might be good friends, but he'd been an utter idiot back in their school days, and Claire could never fault him.

Years of self-imposed restraint, it all came to a tipping point when he walked in on Geillis and Claire about to kiss. Two women kissing each other should have been a sensual experience to watch. Instead, it made him feel as though his skin was too tight like he was on the verge of combusting. The idea of anyone touching Claire, man or woman, especially Frank, didn't sit well with him. He didn't want anyone else to lay a finger on her. Except for him.

On the other hand, the idea seemed so preposterous as she considered him as her brother. Surely not, after that kiss? Back in their school days, no one even gave her a second look nor noticed her more exceptional qualities. It had been him who appreciated her adorable and funny side. It had been him who was there when she needed someone most. Generous to a fault, and despite disappointments in her school life, Claire always had a smile for everyone. Except, the kids in school chose to ignore her. It was a good thing there was Willie and him watching over; otherwise, she would have been bullied out of Scotland. Now that she was back for good, everyone was noticing. Oh hell yes, they are noticing alright...damn them all! He knew because he overheard people talking about her at the construction site in their hotel. She was no longer the awkward orphaned child. They mentioned her now by her name...instead of referring to her as the Fraser foster kid. Now she was the girl next door who had decided to fulfil every man's naughty fantasy, and all Claire ever did to achieve that effect was to grow up nicely. Not even Frank was immune to her charms who tend to gravitate more towards blonde women, and now he had his eyes on her too. Damn ye, Frank!

And there was the kiss. Jamie had kissed girls before, and he knew there was nothing sisterly the way Claire had responded to him. She was hesitant initially, quite reasonably as he had taken her by surprise. In fact, he had taken himself by surprise. It was never his intention to kiss, but damn, the sight of her lips parted, and eyes closed waiting for Geillis, did it for him. When Claire responded to his kisses, there was this urgency crowding him. To take as much as he could and memorised her taste. Never before had anyone kissed like her, honest and unrestrained and with so much trust. No way was he allowing Frank to get a taste of that, not if he could help it!

Jamie knew if he was to pursue the idea of being with Claire, he needed to talk to her first and then his family after. He'd watched her for far too long looked at another boy with lovestruck eyes. Although Jamie was lusting after her, all he could think of right now was how much he wanted her heart more than anything. Jamie needed to know if it's still Frank she wanted after all these years. Until he knows, he needed to keep his hands away from her or someone could get badly hurt.

#melodyheart #forgetmenot #Claire Beauchamp/Jamie Fraser #outlanderfanfic

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lolalexturnerlol · 7 years ago

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Only a heartbeat away (Negan x reader)

Finally, after 37 years, a part two to drifter, which you can read here.

Summary: it’s almost been a year, but love always finds a way.

Warnings: mentions of domestic violence, mentions of depression and anti-depressants, angst, overall sadness, fluff at the end, angst with a happy ending. The song used is called ‘love is only a heartbeat away’ by jamie t. I don’t even know if this makes sense and there was a lot of loud internal screaming while I wrote it.

So roll, roll down, rob a railroad train

Lil I rob before, dear Jessie James

Heart full of love but I’m only here to kill her Fear that the devil may have spoke too soon

And ran through the room with a bottle of you

Fell down in a chair that was where I heard him sing

It’s strange, the way time moves. The fact that sometimes five minutes can feel like an hour, and sometimes hours can pass by in what seems like seconds.

The past year has been one of the slow ones.

You’ve never been the type of person to be concerned with something like time. Growing up, it’s like that’s all you ever thought about. Being five minutes late home and getting the shit beaten out of you by your father. Waiting for high school to pass so you could get out of your small hometown. Your aunties had always gone on about time.

“You don’t have much time, when are you going to have kids?”

“Nearly about the time you got married, y/n.”

No, time doesn’t mean anything to you now. Or it hadn’t. At least, not until you’d left West Elizabeth, along with Negan. And in the last year it feels like all you’ve done is think about time. The time it took for you to stop driving after you’d left West Elizabeth was seven hours. You’d stayed in the next town for three days. You got four to five hours of sleep most nights.

No matter how much time you put into trying though, you can’t forget him.

You’d spent so many night laying next to him, wide awake, wishing that you could get away from him. Wishing that you’d never had to experience his love so you didn’t know how much you didn’t deserve it. Now you lay awake because you can’t stop thinking about how wrong and empty your bed feels. Because you can’t hear him shifting next to you, skin brushing yours, tugging you into him. You miss the stupidly loud snoring.

You’ve told Amanda this in your weekly sessions. She always says the same thing; “reach out, Y/n. Make amends. It’ll make the both of you feel better. Everyone deserves a second chance. Everyone deserves love.”

You’d spent a lot of time staring at your phone. Knowing Negan’s number is stored in it, a small digital fissure among the otherwise smooth, memory-less numbers and letters. Some days you’d go to the beach, dip yourself in the water, and try you best to get the twelve digits out of your head.

It never works. Because god, do you miss him.

Today is one of those days. You’ve been living in Fort Walton Beach, Florida, for nearly a year now. The itchy feet have all but disappeared. You suppose you could say you’re content. Shitty little apartment, but it’s yours. Waitressing job where the people are friendly - most of them, anyway. You’ve been on your medication for four months now. Seeing Amanda has helped. Things are better. You know they are. There’s something missing though, a nagging feeling that constantly lingers in the back of your mind, no matter how hard you try to push it away.

You’re still not used to the weather. So the beach, as well as being the place that you can cool off, is also the place that you find it easiest to think. You’re apartment is too small, too quiet. Here, where you can hear the waves crashing, seagulls cawing, the low hum of voices occasionally Here, your mind is clearer. Maybe it’s the air.

You know Negan would have loved it here.

Maybe that’s why, a month off being a year since your departure from West Elizabeth, with the sun setting over the sea and a chill setting in, you make up your mind. Your hand, almost subconsciously, reaches for your phone. And for the first time in almost a year, your dial those twelve numbers.

So I raised my glass to the Holy Ghost

Father and Son that she loved the most

St. Peter won’t you please forgive her

Turn yourself an old blind eye

Damn heaven knows we tried

And now he’s never heard Ma sing

Things should have stopped. The world should have stopped spinning, at least for a month or two after she left. To Negan, there was almost something cruel in the way that things continued to just go on. Like life was laughing in his face. Ha, ha. You thought you’d get to rest. As if.

No, everything in the world should have halted. He needed it to. Needed time to process, to let go. But what you want in life is seldom what you get. If Negan had learnt anything in life, it’s that there’s no such thing as time to pause, to rest.

If he was asked if her missed her, Y/n, the girl he’d fallen madly, stupidly in love with, he’d say no. Life goes on. No sense in missing someone who’s gone.

It wouldn’t be the truth though. The truth is that he misses her so much it nearly hurts. That sometimes he stays up at night thinking about the feel of her skin on his, the sound of her laugh, the cupids bow of her lips and how they felt so soft on his.

But it all comes down to time. He doesn’t have time to dwell on such things. No, the world doesn’t rest for any one person’s heartbreak. So he goes on, doesn’t pause. Because if he does, he’ll think far too hard on it.

It’s a slow day at the garage today - it almost always is. Daryl has been working on Rick’s car all morning - faulty exhaust - leaving Negan to deal with the overflow of paperwork that’s built up in the last year.

Y/n used to help with those sorts of things.

With a shake of his head and a heavy sigh, he shoves those thoughts away. Don’t dwell.

“Hey, man.” Daryl pops his head into the office, forehead smeared with grease. “Take a break. Dinnertime. We’ll go to Nina’s. My shout.”

Negan nods, shooting his friend a smile. “Sure, let’s go. I’m fuckin’ starving.”

They stop in at Nina’s Diner, and Negan almost doesn’t remember that Y/n used to work here. Until he catches a glimpse of the mustard yellow uniform dress, remembering how much she hated it. He always thought she looked adorable.

“Negan, man. What are you ordering?”

Just like that, he’s snapped out of it. Tara is there, in the yellow dress, notepad in hand and pitiful expression on her face as she stares down at him.

“Uh, eggs. Over easy. And a piece of toast. Thanks, Tara.”

“No problem boys, it’ll be right out.”

Negan’s phone rings before Daryl can try to attempt conversation, and he so glad he picks it up in seconds. “Hello?”

He hears a breath on the other side of the line. In. Out. And then: “Negan? It’s me.”

And he doesn’t have to ask for clarification. Because he knows who it is. As if he could ever forget the sound of her voice. And so he’s up from the booth in seconds, ignoring the shout from Daryl and moving outside.

“Y/n.” He breathes out. “It’s you?”

“Yeah. It’s me.” If he knew her any less, he wouldn’t be able to tell she’s crying. “Negan, I - we need to talk.”

So I raised my glass to the Holy Ghost

Father and Son that she loved the most

St. Peter won’t you please forgive her

Turn yourself an old blind eye

Damn heaven knows we tried

And now he’s never heard Ma sing

In the end, he insisted on coming to you.

And soon. Not two days after you spoke to him for the first time in nearly a a year, you’re going to see his face. You’re not sure how ready you are.

You’d broken down on the phone. Cried. So had he. But crying does nothing, and you both know it.

You’ve organised to meet. On the beach, per your say so. Funny, you’ve always been a creature of habit, clinging to the small thing that make you feel safe. At least you know here, in public, you can’t cry too much. You’ve never been the kind for public displays of emotion anyway.

It’s a shock to see him. Honestly, you didn’t think he would come. But here he is, right in front of you. You almost reach out to touch him, because surely this can’t be real. Maybe your having another dream, and you’ll wake up in a few seconds, alone in your bed.

“Y/n.” His voice is as breathless as you feel. “How, um, how have you been?”

“I’ve been seeing a psychologist.” You blurt, hiding your shaking hands in fists behind your back. “On antidepressants now, too.”

You look up. There’s a blank expression on Negan’s face, it gives away nothing. However familiar the look is, you’ve never had it directed towards you. Other people, sure. But never you. It makes you want to cry. “Oh.”

“I guess I just needed to see you. Tell you that I still love you. Do with that what you will. And that I’m sorry for what I put you through. What we had, Negan,” a heavy, shaky sigh escapes your lips, “it wasn’t healthy. You’re not supposed to rely on someone the way I tried to rely on you. I didn’t-” you choke, and the tears start to fall. “I didn’t want to drag you down.”

I can’t bring myself to look at him now, so I cast my eyes downwards, staring at my blurry, sneaker covered feet. “I’m sorry for what I did. I loved you - I love you too much. I couldn’t - I thought I was doing the best thing for the both of us.”

You taste salt on your lips, and it’s only then that you realise how hard you’re crying. Your whole body is shaking, ready for him to leave. To yell in your face that so? You’re sorry? Not good enough.

What you don’t expect is the painfully, ridiculously familiar feeling of his arms encasing you, bringing you in tight. The feel of his hand running through your hair, like so many times before. There’s a wetness on your forehead, and you realise he’s letting out tears of his own.

“Got a place?”

You nod.

“Mind if I come over?”

Through your tears, you laugh. “Yeah. Yeah, you can.”

And so you go back to your tint flat. And you do talk, and you discover you’re still madly in love with him. You suppose you never forgot. You suppose, the healing you’ve done over the past year is to thank for the fact that you plucked up the courage to call him at all. For the fact that now, you can look him in the eye and tell him you love him, something you’ve never done.

And when you fall into bed together, after all the words are spent, there’s no more guilt there. No sadness. Just pure, untainted love. And you feel his skin on yours again, giving you everything you’ve ever needed, everything you ever will need. And it feels as if everything is right again.

And he sang love

Is only a heartbeat away

Better save it for

The darkest of your days

And he sang love

Is only a heartbeat away

Better save it for

The darkest of your days

This isn’t the first time you’ve done a cross-country drive, all of your belongings packed in the boot and backseats. But this time is so different. The last time you’d driven towards West Elizabeth, you didn’t have a clue what waited for you there. Didn’t know you were stopping. Didn’t even know Negan existed. Now, you’re going towards your future, towards good things, and you know it. The thought makes you swell with so many different emotions. Pride, love. Happiness. Pure, unhampered happiness.

Negan is behind the wheel, one hand on the centre console, fingers wrapped in yours. You should feel different, this should feel different. You’ve spent so long apart. But it feels right. Like coming back to your own bed after sleeping somewhere else.

“You know,” you muse, watching the road speed out under the car, “I’m going to have to put up with your snoring again.”

Negan laughs, and the sound makes my heart swell impossibly larger. “Better drop you in the next town then, huh?”

You grin, turning your head. His profile is silhouetted by the fading light, but you can still see his smile. “Not a chance.”

His hand squeezes yours tight, chuckling lightly.

“I’ll keep you around forever, girl.” He says. “Hell, I’ll even marry you, if you’ll let me.”

You laugh, and it’s the kind that you haven’t felt in a while. The kind that makes you feel light, happy. You pat him on the chest tenderly, cheeks hurting. “Home first. Then we’ll see.”

So roll, roll down, rob a railroad train

Lil I rob before, dear Jessie James

Heart full of love but I’m only here to kill her

Remember me for mistakes I’ve made

I always did leave when I should’ve stayed

And oh my sins taught me how to sing

And he sang love

Is only a heartbeat away

Better save it for

The darkest of your days

Side note: if you’re struggling with depression and anxiety, please talk to someone. It doesn’t have to be a psychologist. Talk to a friend, a family member, reach out to someone online. There’s always someone there for you to talk to.

If you need a hand

#negan au #negan twd #twd fanfic #twd au #angst #fluff

29 notes · View notes

artificialqueens · 7 years ago

Text

Emergency Contact (Bitney) Lolacola01

Shane had only just arrived back home after a long day of photo shoots and interviews for his up and coming shows. The front door had only just closed when his cell began to ring loudly through the empty hallway. With his bag in one hand, and his keys in the other, Shane struggled to get his cell out of his back pocket.

“Hello?”

“Hi am I speaking to Shane Jenek?” A woman with a strong American accent asked.

Shane rolled his eyes, he had been getting random phone calls all week. Usually people asking about his power supplier. “Depends,” Shane answered. “Who’s asking?”

“I am a nurse from Cedars-Sinai medical hospital, your name is down for one of our patients emergency contacts.”

“I.. what?” Shane asked confused.

“Our patient… Leroy Haylock has you as his emergency contact.”

“I think you have the wrong person,” Shane answered back confused. “I don’t know anyone called Leroy.”

“You might know him as Roy,” the nurse suggested.

“Yeah that’s… you mean Bianca?” Shane asked.

“I’m sorry Mr Jenek but this conversation is going round in circles,” the nurse sighed. “Maybe I do have the wrong person.”

“No, no,” Shane said quickly. “No you have the right person… wait, you’re saying Roy is the the hospital? Is he okay?”

“I’m sorry I don’t know about his case, I have just been asked to call and let you know where he is,” the nurse answered. “If you come to the front desk of the emergency room and ask for his name, someone will have more information for you.”

Shane only took the time to throw his bag down in the corner of his room before he rushed back out of the front door and towards his car. He had no idea Roy was even back in LA, the last time they had talked he was still in London. And he had no idea why he was his emergency contact. Why wasn’t it Jamie, Bianca’s assistant. Surely he would be a better match. They were always together anyway. As Shane sped through the streets, he tried to imagine why Roy was at the emergency room. His first thought was car accident, or someone had hurt him, but the more he thought of that, the more his heart pound in his chest. So as he pulled his car up to the front of the hospital he tried to think of anything else. Of course Roy wouldn’t have gotten into an accident, and there is no way he’d been attack. It’s probably something stupid like he tripped on his heels or something. One of those long dresses he insists on wearing tripped him up, and he’s sitting on a hospital bed with a bandaged ankle and he needs a ride home. That was probably it.

Shane found reception as soon as he rushed through the doors of the emergency room. A small elderly looking woman stood behind the desk, looking bored out of her mind. “Roy Haylock,” Shane said quickly as he rushed to the desk.

“Excuse me?”

“Roy Haylock,” Shane repeated. “I’m looking for a Roy Haylock. I got a call to say he was hear.”

“Roy Haylock?” the nurse asked, looking at her computer. “Are you sure they called from hear, because I don’t see a…”

“Sorry Leyroy,” Shane corrected. “His name is Leroy Haylock.”

“Ah I see,” the nurse nodded. “I have him here.”

“Is he okay?” Shane asked in a panic. “I mean he’s not like… he’s not dead is he?”

“I can assure you he’s not the dead,” the nurse answered. “But I can’t let you know anything until I know who you are.”

“I’m Shane.”

“That’s nice dear,” the nurse smiled. “But I was looking more for what your relationship is with the patient. I can’t just let anyone who runs in here know about my patients.”

“Oh well I’m his emergency contact.”

“That’s also nice dear,” the nurse smiled. “But I need to know your relationship with the patient. Are you family.”

“No I’m…”

“Because if you’re not family I can’t let you see him,” the nurse interrupted quickly before Shane could finish. “Like if you were his brother or his husband.”

“Well I’m not his brother,” Shane frowned. Unless one of us were adopted.”

“So that would make you his husband?” the nurse asked.

“Do you need to see proof that I’m his husband?” Shane quizzed.

“Of course not dear,” the nurse smiled.

“Then I’m his husband,” Shane answered quickly.

Then I can tell you he’s in room two, that door right behind you,” the nurse said pointing over Shane’s shoulder.

“Thank you,” Shane smiled before turning to look at the open door behind him.

Shane stepped silently into the open door, he was afraid of what he was going to see, but once inside all he could see was Bianca. Laying back in the hospital bed, wig off, make up all over the place and wearing an awful looking hospital gown.

“Who the hell called up?” Roy groaned as he looked up and saw Shane staring at him.

“The nurse,” Shane answered taking a step towards the bed.

“I told that nosy old bitch to leave me alone,” Roy grumbled. “You don’t have to be here Shane, I’m fine. I’m just waiting for the doctor to say I can go home.”

“Well I’m guessing the nurse called because I’m listed as your emergency contact,” Shane explained.

“Don’t look so excited about it,” Roy warned. “I was fighting with Jamie when I filled that in, I didn’t think I would have to use it.”

“Well I’m here now,” Shane shrugged.

“And you can also leave now,” Roy sighed. “You don’t have to be here Shane.”

“Just let me know that you’re okay,” Shane asked. “I mean you are okay, aren’t you?”

“I’m fine,” Roy grumbled. “I just got a little light headed. Maybe my heels were too high or my wig was too tight. Anyway I’m fine now.”

“How did you end up here?”

“Okay Mr Haylock I have your test results back.” A doctor walked into the hospital room looking down at a clipboard in his hand. “Ah you must be Mr Haylock’s husband,” the doctor added when he looked up to see Shane standing by the bed.

“Husband?” Roy asked confused. “What the hell are you…”

“Yes dear,” Shane said grabbing hold of Roy’s hand. “You know because it’s only family that get to see you.”

“You’re an idiot,” Roy grumbled before looking back at the doctor. “I’m fine Doc. I don’t need to know any test results.”

“Roy don’t be stupid,” Shane frowned. “If there was nothing wrong with you, then you wouldn’t be sitting in a hospital bed right now. Go on Doctor.”

“Well like I was saying,” The doctor said looking down at his notes. “We ran a few blood tests and well a few of the results came back a little… off.”

“Off?” Roy frowned. “What the hell does that mean?”

“It means we have to take more blood,” the doctor answered. “Just to compare.”

“Look I’m fine,” Roy sighed. “I don’t need.”

“He’ll have the tests,” Shane interrupted.

“It might take an hour or two to get the results back,” the doctor explained as he gave an nervous glance towards Roy.

“That’s fine,” Shane smiled patting Roy’s hand. “I’ll be here with him.”

“Well I’ll send an nurse in to get more blood.”

“Like there’s any left,” Roy grumbled as the doctor walked out.

“So are you in a mood because you’re not feeling good or is there something else?” Shane quizzed as he pulled a chair towards the bed.

“I’m not in any kind of mood,” Roy shrugged. “I’m just… you didn’t have to come. I would have been fine.”

“And I would have been the worlds worst friend if I didn’t,” Shane pointed out. “I couldn’t leave you here all alone. And I needed to know you were okay.”

“Well you can see I’m fine so…”

“I’m not leaving you Roy,” Shane interrupted. “So don’t go on.”

“Great,” Roy groaned. “That big mean bitch is back.”

Shane looked towards the door where an nurse stood talking to the doctor. “I’m guessing she took blood last time.”

“She dug that needle in too far,” Roy complained.

“You’re acting like you’re afraid of needles or something,” Shane laughed causing Roy to shift uncomfortably in the bed. “You’re not, are you?”

“Don’t be so stupid,” Roy snapped.

“You can’t be scared of needles,” Shane remarked confused. “You’ve had botox.”

“I was drunk,” Roy snapped. “Oh god, here she comes.”

“Now Mr Haylock,” the nurse smiled. “Are we going to be nicer this time?”

“Nicer?” Shane asked glancing at Roy.

“I might have called her some names last time,” Roy shrugged.

“He’ll be fine,” Shane smiled as he took Roy’s hand in his. “Won’t you?”

“Just get on with it,” Roy sighed.

Shane sat quietly as he watched the nurse prepare the needle. He could feel Roy’s hand grip his tighter and tighter as the nurse got closer. “Hey,” he whispered causing Roy to turn and look at him. “It really is going to be okay. Just keep looking at me.”

“I hate this,” Roy said quietly.

“I know,” Shane smiled softly as he reached out to stroke Roy’s cheek. Letting his thumb dip into his dimple. “But look she’s already done it,” he said nodding towards the nurse as she placed the bottles of blood into a tray.

“That’s not what I meant,” Roy mumbled.

Shane waited for the nurse to leave before answering Roy. “What do you mean then? What do you hate?”

“I hate.. I just… I hate being this vulnerable,” Roy spat out.

“But it’s only me,” Shane laughed confused. “You don’t have to hide anything from me.”

“When I got backstage after my show I could feel myself getting sick,”Roy admitted as he picked at the bed sheet. “It was like everyone was going distant, like they were all slipping away. I just had to get out of there. I ended up in the parking lot of the club, and before I knew it I was laying on the ground and this couple were calling me an ambulance. I knew I was going to need one, that’s why I went outside.”

“You went outside so you didn’t collapse in front of your friends?” Shane frowned.

“Pathetic, isn’t it?” Roy sighed.

“You’re too hard on yourself,” Shane sighed. “Like admitting you need help is some big scandal in your world.”

“I really didn’t want you to come here,” Roy sighed. “I must look terrible and for you of all people to see me like this. Well it’s not good.”

“I think you look great,” Shane smiled. “I mean the make up is a little on the clown side, but when isn’t it?” he added with a smile.

“Bitch,” Roy grumbled as he tried to hide his own smile.

“Wait what do you mean me of all people?”

“What?”

“You just said for you of all people to see me like this,” Shane answered. “What does that mean?”

“I don’t know,” Roy shrugged.

“Because I’m your friend Roy,” Shane pointed out. “If I can’t see you like this, then who can?”

“Friend,” Roy scoffed.

“We’re not friends?” Shane frowned.

“Yes we’re friends,” Roy nodded.

“But you just scoffed like we weren’t,” Shane remarked. “You did that little eye roll you do and everything. In fact if I’m being honest you’ve been like this for months with me. Every time we get together for dinner or something, it’s like you can’t wait to get away. We hardly even call each other any more.”

“You’re being stupid,” Roy shrugged. “That’s all in your head.”

“Last month we were both in New York and I suggested that you stay in my hotel for the night. We could have hung out, watched a movie. You know, caught up. But when I suggested it, you looked like you wanted to run.”

“You only had one bed in your hotel room,” Roy pointed out.

“And?” Shane shrugged. “it was a double. We’ve can’t share a bed.”

“No.”

“You know what I think this is?” Shane asked.

“Tell me,” Roy sighed, rolling his eyes.

“Ever since I called you that night and told you I had slept with someone with HIV you have been different,” Shane sighed. “It’s like you are judging me. Like you’re disgusted by me. I think that’s why you didn’t want to share a bed with me that night.”

“Oh don’t be so fucking stupid,” Roy snapped. “It’s got nothing to do with that.”

“So there is something wrong,” Shane nodded. “I knew there was. Well go on. What’s wrong with me?”

“There is nothing wrong with you,” Roy sighed. “And I don’t want to talk about this any more.”

“Well if there’s nothing wrong with me,” Shane remarked. “Its got to be what happened with that guy. You can’t stand me now because of it.”

“I can’t stand you?” Roy laughed. “Are you fucking serious?”

“Then why are you being like this with me?” Shane snapped. “Why are you pushing me away?”

“Because I fucking love you,” Roy snapped. “That’s why.” Roy threw himself back against the pillow as he clenched his eyes shut. “You just had to push, didn’t you?”

“I. I didn’t mean to,” Shane stuttered. “I just wanted to know what was wrong.”

“And now you do,” Roy grumbled. “And now you can get up and run. I don’t have the energy to stop you.”

“Well what if…” Shane paused looking down at his and Roy’s hand wrapped together on the bed. “What if I don’t want to run?”

“I’d say you must enjoy awkward situations,” Roy answered, not opening his eyes.

“maybe,” Shane nodded. “Or maybe I liked hearing what you said.”

“What part?” Roy asked opening his eyes and turning his head to look at Shane.

“The because I fucking love you part,” Shane smiled.

“You only enjoyed that because you never hear people saying they love you,” Roy said rolling his eyes. “They’re usually too busy tip toeing out of your room in with their shoes in their hands.”

“Nice,” Shane nodded. “Telling me you love me and calling me a whore at the same time.”

“A bad whore,” Roy pointed out. “If you were a good whore they’d want to spend the night.”

“i hope that nurse comes back for more blood,” Shane frowned causing Roy to laugh.

“What I said,” Roy sighed. “We’re going to put that down to me being high on pain meds, aren’t we?”

“Are you on pain meds?”

“No,” Roy answered. “But lets pretend I am. It’s better than having our friendship ruined by my outburst.”

“We could do that,” Shane nodded. “Or we could talking about you being in love with me.”

“I’m not now,” Roy frowned. “I got over it.”

“I’m not that easy to get over,” Shane smirked.

“Why am I in love with you?” Roy asked confused. “I mean you can’t be my type. You’re too full of yourself.”

“And yet you are in love with me,” Shane smiled.

“You’re taking this very well,” Roy remarked. “I think if one of my friends admitted they were in love with me, I’d want to run a mile. Hell I would run a mile.”

“Well I guess I’m taking it well because I might feel the same way,” Shane smiled softly.

“Don’t,” Roy warned. “Don’t, say things like that just to make me feel better.”

“Like I’d do that,” Shane scoffed. “I’m not that nice.”

“So what’s your game here?” Roy asked. “Why are you saying this?”

“Why do you think I was so desperate to get you into my bed that night in New York?” Shane asked. “I don’t just let anyone sleep beside me.”

“Yes you do,” Roy frowned. “You do that all the time.”

“They never sleep.”

“Because they’re too busy tip toeing out of your room?” Roy asked.

“Something like that,” Shane mumbled. “But that’s not the point. The point is I love you too.”

“Just like that?”

“No not just like that,” Shane rolled his eyes. “It’s been a while.”

“A while?”

“Maybe a year or two,” Shane nodded. “Hey when did we spend that night laying in the grass watching the stars?”

“The pizza party?” Roy frowned.”

“Yeah,” Shane smiled. “It’s been since then.”

“That was three years ago,” Roy frowned.

Well it’s been three years,” Shane smiled. “When did you start loving me?”

“You have loved me for three years and you didn’t tell me?” Roy asked annoyed.

“Like that was going to end well,” Shane laughed. “You would have told me to fuck off. So how many months have you loved me?”

“Four years,” Roy sighed.

“Longer than me?” Shane asked surprised. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me?”

“Like that would have ended well,” Roy scoffed. “I mean you’re… you and I’m… just me.”

“And what does that mean?”

“It means I’m not exactly your type,” Roy answered. “You usually go for big buff guys with no brain cells.”

“You make me sound shallow,” Shane frowned.

“I’m quoting you directly,” Roy pointed out.

“Well my heart doesn’t understand my type,” Shane shrugged. “Because for three years it’s been craving you.”

“This is weird,” Roy sighed. “How are we having this conversation so calmly?”

“Yeah,” Shane smirked. “In the movies when people confess they love each other, there’s usually tears and music and they fall into each arms. We’re talking like we’re agreeing that we both love pineapple on our pizzas. Oh I know what I can do.”

“Sing and I will have you thrown out of here,” Roy warned.

“Well it’s either that or one of us cries,” Shane frowned.

“See this is why we’d never work,” Roy sighed. “You’re too crazy.”

“I guess,” Shane shrugged. “So does that mean we’re not going to try?”

“Try what?”

“Being in love,” Shane answered. “Together.”

“It would end in us killing each other,” Roy answered. “Or me killing one of your muscle bound trade.”

“Because you’d be jealous?” Shane smiled.

“Yes,” Roy said through gritted teeth. “I’d be jealous.”

“Well I could help you what that,” Shane remarked.

“And how would you do that?”

“I could stay away from muscle trade,” Shane answered. “Hell I could stay away from all trade. And just be with… you.”

“Like that could work,” Roy laughed. “You being faithful.”

“Hey I can be faithful,” Shane frowned. “Single Shane boyfriend Shane are very different people.”

“Boyfriend?”

“Well yeah,” Shane nodded. “I mean if we were to do this, we’d be boyfriends. I mean if you wanted to be.”

“You’d only get bored,” Roy said shaking his head. “Let’s just forget it.”

“I know,” Shane smiled. “Lets make one of those packs. Like we get to a certain age and if we’re still single we get together.”

“Like we have our fun while we can and then become a couple?”

“Sure,” Shane nodded.

“Okay,” Roy smiled. “So what age do we pick?”

“How about when I turn thirty five? Shane suggested.

“Shane you turned thirty five months ago,” Roy frowned.

“Oh so I did,” Shane smiled. “I guess that settles it. We’re a couple.”

“It’s that simple is it?”

“It’s that simple,” Shane nodded. “Now stop fighting it. You love me, I love you. Just let it happen,” he added before picking Roy’s hand up and kissing the back of it. “We’re a couple now.”

“Romantic,” Roy scoffed.

“I’m trying to be,” Shane nodded. “That’s why our first kiss won’t be in an awful hospital room with you still in half Bianca drag.”

“Oh god,” Roy groaned. “I forgot I was still in make up. Well this is just great. How can you love me?”

“Call me weird, but I happen to find Bianca very attractive.”

“Says no one ever.”

“Shut up,” Shane laughed. “You happen to make a cute clown.”

“Thanks for not kissing me right now.”

“Said no one to me ever,” Shane smirked. “But don’t worry, you won’t have to wait long for a kiss. As soon as we’re out of here, you’ll get it.”

“If I get out of here,” Roy sighed.

“What does that mean?”

“You heard the doctor,” Roy answered. “They have to run more tests. That means they found something weird.”

“It might not.”

“I’ve not been feeling great for a while,” Roy sighed. “I keep getting these headaches. I don’t sleep. My mind is all fuzzy. I think there could be something serious.”

“Or it’s nothing,” Shane said squeezing Roy’s hand.

“I’m scared,” Roy said quietly.

“That’s okay,” Shane said moving to sit on the bed. “you can be scared if you want, because I’m here and I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“Got your doctors degree now have you?”

“Okay fine,” Shane said rolling his eyes. “Things might happen but Ill still be here. Better?”

“A little,” Roy sighed as he rested his head on Shane’s shoulder.

They both stayed like that until the doctor came back with Roy’s test results. Shane held Roy’s hand in both of his as the doctor began to talk. “so we ran the test again and it looks like everything is normal.”

“Normal?” Roy frowned.

“I knew they would be,” Shane smiled.

“Yeah we just wanted to run them again to make sure,” the doctor nodded. “But it looks like everything is fine.”

“Fine?” Roy frowned. “But I collapsed. I passed out.”

“Mr Haylock when was the last time you went on a vacation?”

“Vacation,” Shane scoffed. “Like he knows what that is.”

“It’s been a couple of years,” Roy frowned. “What’s that got to do with anything?”

“And do you take regular days off from your work?”

“No,” Shane answered. “He finished one tour on a Friday and started the next one on a Monday.”

“Thank you Shane,” Roy said through gritted teeth. “I can take it from here.”

“Well that explains it,” The doctor smiled. “Mr Haylock you are exhausted. You are working too hard and this is your body telling you to slow down. Now I hope you listen to it.”

“Oh he will,” Shane nodded. “As soon as we get home he’s booking time off.”

“When did you become the boss of me?” Roy frowned looking at Shane.

“Oh about twenty minutes ago,” Shane smirked.

“So that’s all,” the doctor said causing them both to turn and look at him. “Unless there’s anything you want to discuss with me?”

“No,” Roy said shaking his head. “I just want to go home.”

“I have something,” Shane smiled. “He loves me,” he added nodding his head towards Roy.

“I would hope so,” the doctor smiled. “He is your husband after all.”

“Oh yeah,” Shane laughed. “I’d forgotten about that,” he added causing the doctor to give him a funny look.

“Oh god you’re an idiot,” Roy groaned.

“But I’m your idiot,” Shane added with a wide smile.

#courtney act #bianca del rio #bitney #fluff #lolacola1 #rpdr fanfiction #canon compliant

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evanspecs · 8 years ago

Text

“Oh, Joy” || Jily.

My God I haven’t written Jily in so long… this is a combination of pointless plot and me avoiding studying at any and all costs, but I hope you enjoy!

Word Count: 6,473 || archiveofourown

It was just more wholly unnecessary, but utterly definite proof that French really, truly was the Satan of all subjects. Of course, the events of that atomic disaster of a night could also have been blamed upon her liberal alcohol consumption, or even indeed on the disloyalty of her so-called friends - but their final term together ended in less than two months, and Lily was rendered too emotionally fragile at the thought of having to leave them to truly be angry with any of them.

That and the fact that blaming them for what transpired that night was probably entirely irrational, given that her actions just so happened to be of her own doing – alcohol or no alcohol.

Whoever or whatever was to blame, the fact remained that Lily effectively set her entire life alight on that fateful night, deep in the depths of what was quite possibly the grottiest pub on their side of the river.

And the most startling thing of all was that she didn’t really mind all that much.

Tally: Lily – 05 || James – 03

“Oi – prick-face,” she all but shouted, moving through the crowd with the grace of a mobile armoire. The prick-in-question’s eyebrows raised inquisitively at her greeting.

“Have pigs started flying, Evans? Or did you just voluntarily acknowledge my presence?”

Lily’s scowl deepened at the slow smirk which unfurled across his face.

It was more out of a stubborn resilience that she didn’t allow herself to fall at the feet of James Potter. She wasn’t blind - contrary to the popular public opinion - she just wasn’t bloody interested. She recognised a good-looking bloke when she saw one, and she could appreciate what Mother Nature had done for him over the course of puberty, but she was strictly monogamous, and entering a relationship with both James and his over-inflated ego was not something she would ever willingly inflict upon herself.

Of course, this resilience didn’t factor in the five-or-so shots she had taken in the interim between arriving at the pub and encountering her current sparring partner, and James’ smirk only increased in size and in smugness as her hand shot out to grab his shoulder as a means of stabilising herself.

“It seems not only pigs. Acknowledgement and touching? My, my Evans. Forward little minx, aren’t you?”

“Shut your mouth before you find my fist in it,” she grumbled, removing her hand from his shirt as if burned.

“You’ll need to take me on a date first.” He winked, causing her to roll her eyes.

“It this the famous Potter charm I’ve heard so much about?” she scoffed “Because I’ve got to admit, I’m underwhelmed.”

“Oh trust me, Ginge. I haven’t even started trying to charm you.”

A very unladylike grunt emitted from somewhere at the back of her throat “Ginge? That’s the best you can come up with?”

“You used to threaten to dismember my bodily appendages every time I called you Ginge, remember?” he reminded her almost fondly, a wistful nostalgia in his voice that made her roll her eyes.

“I most certainly didn’t say dismember bodily appen-whatevers. I told you I’d tear you limb from limb, you ponce. Don’t misquote me or I’ll sue-”

“God Evans, you’re really not holding back, are you?” he laughed “Usually you at least try and make an effort to begin pleasantly before breaking out the violent threats. You’re hurting my fweelings,” he sniffed, the ever-present smile detracting completely from what was otherwise a stellar performance.

“You’re infuriating.” She scowled.

“You chose to come talk to me,” he reminded her “Why was that, exactly?”

His eyes seemed to spark with mischief, mouth curling almost impossibly as he watched the slow, embarrassed flush spread across Lily’s cheeks. She could practically see I’ve got you there flashing across his pupils as he regarded her with something in between indulgence and amusement.

Fucking prick. Stupid bloody asshole with his stupid smile, and stupid twinkly-flash eyes. Why did people every describe eyes as flashing anyway? They weren’t bloody traffic lights.

“You’re a very philosophical drunk Evans, quite the little Aristotle,” he mused, tilting his head slightly as he looked down at her “I’ve got to admit, it’s kind of a turn-on.”

“I’m told I’m a truthful one.” She sniffed, trying to suppress the blush threatening to spread across her skin at his… sexual references. She wasn’t a prude, but she also didn’t like discussing topics beyond how much of a prat he was when conversing with Potter. It was unnerving to think of him as anything beyond an annoying eleven year old boy.

“As opposed to being a solely violent one? Package-deal you’ve got going on, I see,” he teased, arm reaching out to steady Lily once more as she swayed back and forth on her feet. She batted him away sharply, ignoring the jolt that seemed to course through her body.

“Where’s your harem?” she asked abruptly, diffusing the odd atmosphere which seemed to be descending on them both “I thought you were incapable of functioning without someone hanging off your arm to remind you oh what big biceps you have, Jamie,” she mocked, scoffing slightly at her own joke.

“My harem?” he snorted.

“Yes, your harem of women – well, girls.” She self-corrected. She hated the word woman – it was a constant reminder of the impending adulthood freight train that was about to obliterate them all.

That and referring to the gaggle of giggling nitwits that clung to Potter like the sickly perfume they all wore as women made her head hurt.

“I wasn’t aware I had a harem at my disposal,” he laughed, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

“Oh sure.” She rolled her eyes “I’m sure you didn’t.”

“Are you sure I’m sure I didn’t?”

“Tease me one more time, Potter, and I’ll-”

“You’ll what, Evans? Stab me with a compass again?” he teased, raising an eyebrow at her.

“Oh would you let it go. We were twelve, and you wholly deserved it-”

“Wholly deserved or not, you certainly left me holey.”

She stared incredulously at him for a minute, as he shoved his hands into his pockets and rocked back on his heels, a satisfied smirk on his face.

“That was single-handedly the worst pun I’ve ever heard in my life.”

“Then you obviously haven’t spent that much time with Remus.” He grinned.

“No, I can’t say I have. Because spending time with Remus would mean spending time with you,” she spat, more so out of habit than actual venom. It was a reflex action to go in for the kill whenever Potter provided her with a suitable opening.

“You’ve spent quite a bit of time on me already,” he reminded her once again.

“Only because I saw you and got mad.”

“Really? The mere sight of my face riled you up enough that you felt the need to come over here? Lord, I think I’ve hit a new low.”

“Yes, how does the world look from the metaphorical shit pit?”

“About as good as it must look from your throne of self-righteousness, my dear Evans.”

“Call me my dear one more time and I’ll-”

“Lose your composure? Let’s be honest here, you haven’t had that for quite a while.”

“Maybe you’ll find it shoved up your arse – although I highly doubt there’s room, considering you already have your head wedged up there.”

“Good grief Evans, you’re really not holding back, are you?” he laughed, giving Lily the hazy impression that he probably wasn’t on the same level of intoxication she was.

And everyone knows that sort of an imbalance in social awareness during a conversation is a recipe for utter disaster.

“I’m leaving,” she announced.

“Are you sure you can?” he chuckled, looking dubiously at her heels which were still causing her to pitch at odd angles.

“You just bloody watch me, Potter-” she snarled, stomping away from him purposely on a one-way track back towards the bar. Her exit probably would have held more drama had she not stumbling not two feet away from him.

But she would ignore his laughter in lieu of another alcoholic beverage.

Tally: Lily – 07 || James – 09

Two tequila shots and one episode of convincing Marlene that climbing up on the bar was definitely a sure-fire way to get them thrown out, Lily found herself wandering the dance floor, looking for her friends. Often there was a misconception that girls travelled in packs on nights out – and while ultimately that was the goal, it was inevitable that, just as in the wild, every so often the pack would lose a member or four.

And considering the fact she had just seen someone throw up in a bag that definitely wasn’t theirs, they had most certainly entered the wild. And her shoes were bloody killing her.

Eyeing the outskirts of the packed dance floor once more, she gave up on her search with a resigned sigh, choosing instead to make a beeline for the row of benches along the western wall so that she could ensure all her toes were indeed still attached to her body. Stumbling up the lone step differentiating the seated area from the manic revelry of the dance floor, she swerved around the enthusiastic couple sucking face and instead plonked down heavily on one of the plush benches that was worryingly sticky against the bare skin of her thigh.

“Wouldn’t sit there if I were you, Peter just spilt his pint all over the place. Other two took him to the bathroom, absolutely puking up his guts.”

Her neck snapped to her right upon hearing the voice, her eyes instantly narrowing when she took in the faintly-glowing white shirt, and birds-nest hair.

“Christ alive, what’re you doing, following me?” she groaned, shooting Potter a dirty look before leaning down to fiddle with the straps of her shoes – which were now positively murdering her poor, innocent toes.

“And you call me conceited – I’m just sitting,” he replied jovially, his shoulders moving in synchronisation with his voice.

“Well how about you bugger off and just sit somewhere else-”

“Well you see, there’s the little fact of I was here first, Evans.”

“I almost fell on my arse three times making my way from the bar to here,” she said, pointing towards the heaving crowd as if to add further emphasis “You can get fucked if you think I’m the one that’s going to be moving.”

They were locked in a heated staring contest for a few moments, before Potter eventually conceded and shook his head with a chuckle.

“Christ, you’re beautiful when you’re angry-”

“What sort of misogynistic drivel is that, Potter? Am I supposed to flush and quit being angry with you because you’ve complimented me?”

“On the contrary, I often find myself complimenting you as a way to enrage you further,” he said airily “Well that and the fact it’s startlingly easy to do.”

“Who says enrage in regular conversation?” she asked, her nose crinkling in disgust.

“You said drivel.” He shrugged “And I think that’d earn you more points in Scrabble.”

“Never played Scrabble,” she grumbled.

“You’d love it, truly. And there’s nothing sexier than spelling.”

“I’m sorry, did you just say the words sexy and spelling in the same sentence?”

“Nothing sexier than a bit of spelling. ‘Specially when there’s hidden letters. Like an unexpected striptease.” He wriggled his eyebrows suggestively, laughing rumbling deep in his chest at the sight of her displeased scowl.

“I’m beginning to see why you’re McGonagall’s pet now,” she said, her nose scrunching further.

“I absolutely am not.”

“You absolutely are too.”

He pouted almost petulantly, reaching to spin a bottle in a slow circle on the table in front of them, pointedly avoiding Lily’s smug smirk.

“Just jealous ‘cause there’s one teacher that likes me more than they like you.”

“Maybe I am.”

“I don’t believe there’s any maybe in that sentence, Evans.” He grinned, reaching to tug gently on a lock of her hair

“Only because there’s no reason for it!” she exclaimed hotly, slapping away his hands indignantly “You always hand up your essays late, you’re constantly skiving off with Sirius in the back of the class-”

“How do you know I hand up my essays late?”

“Because it’s you-”

“Careful there, that sounds awfully like a sweeping generalisation.”

“Well you never have your shit together for Slughorn.”

“Well there’s one glaring difference there – I like English. I’m planning on buying my biology book off the school so I can ceremoniously burn it after graduation,” he explained, his nose crinkling slightly upon the mere mention of his least-favourite subject.

“Biology’s easy,” she sniffed, flipping her hair over her shoulder.

“Not all of us are medical prodigies.”

“I’m not a prodigy, I work hard,” she emphasised, her lip curling slightly at the insinuation “Everyone who says I do well just because genetics or some shit like that needs to fuck the fuck off-”

“Alright, alright. Keep your wig on, I’m just saying that I could beat myself around the head with the bio coursework and I still wouldn’t be able to remember what in God’s name half of it means.”

“Then you aren’t trying hard enough,” she said sharply. “That or you’re just inept.”

He coughed slightly, raising an eyebrow over the brim of his beer bottle before taking another swig “And there we have it, trademark Evans put down. Tell me, what happens if you don’t insult me every five minutes? Do you internally combust?” he asked cooly, causing her to look away in what felt closely linked to shame.

“Look - I didn’t mean to be rude.”

“Well, you were,” he replied shortly.

This was new. Lily wasn’t accustomed to insulted James,- her familiarity lay with insulting him – meaning the now unsmirking, unannoyinng-her being that occupied the seat next to her unnerved her. The silence which descended over them seemed deafening, even though the floor still vibrated underfoot from the jarring techno-bass mash-up disaster the DJ was blaring.

She huffed slightly, before leaning over to poke his cheek “C’mon Potter, I thought it was physically impossible for me to get you to shut up, don’t break the six-year trend now.”

“Maybe I’m sick of putting up with your snide comments.”

“Well – you and I both know that that’s a horrific lie, Potter. And horrific liars go to hell.”

“Don’t you implore me to take a quick trip to hell on the daily?”

“I may have occasionally told you to do that, yes,” she conceded rather sheepishly “But that doesn’t change the fact that you shouldn’t lie.”

“Hang on - I just used implore, and you’re not going to threaten grievous bodily harm? You must be sorry.”

“Did I say I was sorry?”

“You mean you’re not?”

“Well I – possibly could have been a bit harsh but-” she started difficulty.

“You’re terrible with apologies, Evans,” he chuckled, but the way his shoulder bumped hers told her she had in fact been forgiven.

Maybe it was the alcohol, but the contact made her stomach jolt slightly. No – not jolt. Lurch. Lurch was a verb with much more negative connotations, she couldn’t allow herself to think in the positive.

Lord knows what would happen then.

She settled for a short “like you’re any better” as a reply.

“Ah – but you see, very rarely do I ever do anything that I will later feel the need to apologise for.” He held up his finger to silence her before she could interject “And before you jump down my throat about my actions affecting others, doesn’t mean I’m a complete dickhead. Just means usually I try to do things I won’t regret.”

“Life’s full of regrets.”

“Not for me, Aristotle.”

“So there’s not one thing you regret?”

“Very few things,” he corrected her “I wouldn’t be human if I didn’t regret anything.”

“Well this is rather intriguing – the supreme James Potter admitting to making some mistakes?” she said, her lips curling up into a smile as she fully turned her body to face him “Well – come on. Don’t leave me in suspense, you’ve got to tell me at least one.”

“I most certainly do not,” he chuckled, leaning his head back so it rested against the wall.

“C’mon, Potter. Don’t be a wimp.” She reached forwards to prod his chest, tilting her head to match the angle of his.

“Absolutely not – you’ll laugh.”

“I’ll laugh anyway, laughing at you is my favourite hobby.” Something horrifically like a giggle bubbled from her lips as she reached to poke him once again.

“Are you going to keep poking me until you get your way?”

“Oh you can bet on it-” she promised, her finger tapping out a staccato rhythm on his rib cage.

“Alright – alright, enough woman!” He laughed, swatting her away “I regret pulling your pigtail on the first day of first year.”

“Really?” she snorted “Out of everything you’ve ever done in your life? That’s what you pick?”

“It’s not the only thing, mind you. But - yeah.” He shrugged “You’ve had a set on me ever since then. Probably would have saved a lot of shouting and arguing if I hadn’t.”

She considered his words for a few seconds, before nodding “Well yeah, probably would’ve. Why did you?”

“Why did I what?”

“Pull my hair, dunce.”

“Because I liked the colour.”

“Of my hair?” she snorted again.

“Of your eyes.”

Lily blinked for a moment, her eyes narrowing dangerously as she waited for any signs of a smirk, or a chuckle to emit from James, but he simply reached forward to pick up his beer bottle once more and take a swig.

“I don’t find that cute, you know. Lying to try get in a girl’s pants is just pathetic, Potter.”

“Ah, but liars go to hell, Evans. A wise philosopher once told me so. And I don’t really fancy a trip down below. So that – that was the truth,” he said, the beginnings of what almost looked like a sincere smile unfurling across his lips that seemed to be having an adverse effect on her knees, even though she was sitting down.

Of course, he had to go and ruin it all by winking. She left promptly after that.

Tally: Lily – 08 || James 09.5

Storming away from James for the second time that night led her on a very similar pathway to the bar, where she stopped just long enough to neck back another much-needed drink before continuing on her not-so merry way to start up the manhunt for her friends once more.

She eventually located them in the girl’s toilets, resulting either from a tactical ploy on Marlene’s part to scope out the talent remaining in the pub, or Mary’s pea-sized bladder.

“He’s such a childish, arrogant, fucking-” she forced through her clenched teeth, tearing a piece from the paper towel in her hands aggressively with each word. She was perched on the corner of one of the many sinks which lined the damp walls of the pub’s bathroom, pouting petulantly as she watched Marlene shakily reapply another coat of mascara.

“I’m sorry – who’re we talking about?” Mary shouted from inside the bathroom stall “What’s happened? Do you need me to fight someone? I’ll need help taking out m’earrings but otherwise I’m ready Lil-”

“Keep your arse on the toilet, Mary.” Marlene slapped the stall door, causing Mary to shriek “She’s just griping about James again.”

“Oh – well if that’s all.”

“No – that is not all, thanks very much,” Lily said hotly, looking up from her shredded piece of tissue to glare at Marlene.

“But it really is, Lil – you vehemently refuse to snog the boy’s face off, so there’s not very much we can do for you.” Marlene shrugged “Tough tits.”

“How in God’s name would snogging anyone’s face off solve any problem? Much less this one?”

“You know, for a smart girl you’re annoyingly stupid,” Marlene sighed, throwing her mascara tube back into her clutch before reaching to grab Lily’s hands “It’s this horrible little thing called sexual tension.”

“Please remove your hands from my body and stop chatting shit, Marl.”

“You can deny it all you want, Lil. But the truth of the matter is that you want to play tonsil hockey with James.”

“No, I sodding well don’t! A girl can hate a boy, you know. It’s not always just hidden feelings – this isn’t some crappy youth novel, this is my life!”

“Yes, that you seem insistent to live in denial. Look – it doesn’t give me any pleasure to throw you into the deep end like this. But we’re all just sick of hearing about him, okay?”

“Mary, what the hell has Marlene been drinking, straight bleach?” Lily demanded as soon as the bathroom door unlatched, and Mary emerged.

“Been very responsible tonight, actually,” Marlene sniffed.

“Then would you care to explain the origins for this insane theory of yours?”

“It’s not insane, Lily. You’ve not been exactly subtle about it-”

“Look – what Marlene’s trying to say is that, well there has been signs, Lil,” Mary admitted awkwardly, reaching around Lily’s head to grab a handful of paper towels “No one’s trying to say you’ve been doodling his name everywhere or anything – but, there’s clearly something. And the longer you make yourself wait, the worse it’s going to get.”

“Long story short, the tension’s going to make one of you explode,” Marlene supplemented “So get on it, yeah?”

“Neither of you seem to be understanding that I hate him-”

“You’re walking a fine line between love and hate on this one, Lil. So will you just do us all a favour and pick a side, yeah?”

“And meet us on the dance floor if Ed comes on.” Mary grinned, before they linked arms and vacated the bathroom, leaving Lily to brood.

Tally: Lily – 09 || James – 11

Lily stumbled out of the bathroom in what felt like a daze, one which was only partly induced by the alcohol units she had consumed. She pushed her way slowly through the throng that still occupied the bar, her mind whirring at the concept that is wasn’t pure hatred she felt towards James.

Facultative hatred, certainly. But even the fact that there might be some hint of fondness present had her world spinning completely off-kilter.

It was nothing more than fate laughing directly in her face that she should then stumble into James.

“Not you again-”

“Really, Lily. I don’t think I can deal with any more fighting tonight. M’brains all fuzzy, won’t be able to think of witty things to say to -”

“Why do you think I hate you?” she asked, cutting over him.

“Oh, all the regular reasons – you know yourself.” He grinned.

“But why do you think I hate you?”

“Will I let you in on a little secret, Lily?” he asked, dipping his head so his lips seemed to hover uncomfortably close to her ear “I have this valiant hope – cursed optimistic nature – that really, deep down, you don’t.”

And she hated herself for it, but her breath hitched – fucking hitched - getting caught somewhere in her throat before it could exit her body.

Carbon dioxide poisoning caused people to behave madly, didn’t it? Would certainly explain as to why the hell her eyes seemed fixated on his eyelashes, which she was nearly certain were longer than hers. And usually that would have caused an irrational pit of hatred to bubble, because stupid Potter and his stupid perfect eyelashes.

But this time it just made her want to know how they’d feel brushing against her cheek.

“I think my epiglottis is malfunctioning-”

“How on earth do I find you attractive?”

“You like my eyes,” she reminded him.

“God, I do. I really do,” he replied, his mouth curling into a grin, causing Lily’s chin to tilt upwards in response. Her heels were putting out a valiant effort of bridging the rather substantial height difference which usually kept her on par with his shoulder. Potter’s head seemed to duck in response, the space between them rapidly decreasing until –

A hand suddenly clamped around the back of her neck, and she found herself being shoved towards James, their heads colliding painfully with what most definitely would have been a resounding thump had it not been cancelled out by whatever God-awful house mix the DJ was blasting out.

Her hands instinctively shot up to cradle her forehead, a groan lost under Potter’s shout of “For fuck sake, Sirius!”

“Just kiss each other already-” Sirius shouted, his hands making a crude hand gesture towards Lily with a grin that made her want to hit him.

Having Potter shove him would suffice nicely, however.

She watched as his mouth moved furiously, his index finger jabbing Sirius’ chest as she watched rather than heard him say “She doesn’t bloody want to.”

If it hadn’t felt like she had just entered the twilight zone, she probably would have found it funny. The anger evident in the way a red flush was forming on Potter’s neck told her his anger was real, and that he was directing it at Sirius of all people was entirely bizarre.

That he was getting so het up about Sirius’ interference lay somewhere in between the realm of ridiculous, but also oddly sweet. Potter’s half-arsed efforts at chivalry usually annoyed her beyond all comprehension, but even she could see that he was simply trying to do the right thing.

Even if what he thought was the right thing was completely and utterly wrong.

Lily’s eyes continued to dart from the now completely beetroot Potter, to the seemingly mollified Sirius, who had his hands raised in defence. Potter gave his friend one last poke, and a concluding glare before turning back to Lily, an apology written all over his features.

“Look, Evans – I’m really sorry, Sirius is just a prick and-”

“Do you make it a habit to make other people’s decisions for them, Potter?” she cut in, archly raising an eyebrow.

“I’m sorry, what?” His entire expression betrayed complete bewilderment.

“You just assumed what I wanted to do.”

“I didn’t – what?”

“Don’t assume what I want and don’t want to do.”

“But-”

She silenced the rest of whatever he wanted to prattle on about by grabbing the front of his shirt and slamming her lips to his.

Their noses seemed to collide awkwardly as they both turned in different directions, a startled ‘oof’ emitting from Potter which really wasn’t what anyone wanted to hear upon kissing anyone. And in a brief moment of clarity, and perhaps even sobriety, she realised she was standing in the middle of a dance floor which was coated in a black scum, her hands awkwardly knotted in Potter’s slightly-damp t-shirt, his lips seemingly frozen against hers while the bridge of his glasses cut uncomfortably into her cheek.

A horrible feeling of regret began clawing its way from her stomach to her mouth – Oh God, oh God, oh fucking God, she had read all the signs wrong. This was awful – he’d never let her live it down. Forever, she would be known as the girl who virtually assaulted Potter while he stood there and did nothing.

Pulling back, she took in the bug-eyed expression of shock on his face, her own cheeks burning bright with embarrassment. Cold reality seemed to rain down upon her with the realisation that he had probably never contemplated, or indeed ever wanted to swap spit with her, and considering their explosive history, had presumed that Lily was on the same wavelength.

“I’m – I’ve – got to go,” she stuttered, waving vaguely in the direction of the exit door before taking off through the crowd, ignoring his calls for her to wait until she could no longer hear them over the music.

She weaved her way through the still-writhing masses, pressing the backs of her hands against her cheeks in a vain attempt to cool the fire-pits that had seemingly replaced half of her face.

She probably could have gotten over the embarrassment of crashing and burning with Potter – after an appropriate amount of dodging him in the remaining weeks of school, and proposing a binding contract to never mention his name again – however it was the fact that she had crashed and burned with Potter with the majority of her class as an audience which was the true problem. There was still six weeks left in school, so really, abandoning her education to move to Ecuador would just be a waste of the last fourteen years of education.

Plus, she had taken French instead of Spanish.

A tinny ringing in her ears erupted as soon as she stepped out of the pub, her heels scraping against the cobblestones of the footpath. Bobbing her head to the bouncer, she wrapped her arms around herself in an attempt to fend off the April chill as she began her slow hobble to the chipper – conveniently located next door.

“Lily – Christ alive Evans, can you just wait-”

She made no attempt to stifle the groan that seemed almost a reflex action in response to his voice “Potter – go away, please. I’m begging.”

“No, I want to talk about whatever what just happened was,” he said determinedly, reaching out as if to grab Lily’s arm, before thinking better of it.

“Can we just – forget that happened? Please?”

“No – no, well – I mean, yeah because that was terrible-”

“Well thanks,” she gritted out, embarrassment still colouring her cheeks as she narrowed her eyes to glare at him.

He started, horror dawning on his face as he processed what he had said “Not – no, you weren’t terrible, I was terrible-“

“Yeah – you sodding well were! Why didn’t you kiss me back?” she demanded.

“I wasn’t expecting you to do that!”

“Oh I’m sorry, I didn’t realise you needed a formal letter of notice before someone kissed you, my bloody mistake,” she said, sarcasm dripping from every word.

“Well sod it, if it’s you kissing me maybe I do!”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means – it means I would’ve been less surprised if you ran me over with a car, Evans,” he sighed.

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” she asked, growing more and more affronted.

“It means you – earlier this evening you were threatening to sue me, and then suddenly you’re flirting with me and I got confused!”

“I never flirted with you-”

“This is what I’m talking about, Lily! This – the hot and cold thing, I can’t keep up with you. And believe me, I love the fact you’re absolutely mental, I fucking love it because it’s you. But - can you at least give me some help in figuring out where I stand with you? Please?”

Her anger faltered slightly at the desperate plea that seemed to emit from his eyes, his words hanging in the air between them. His eyes seemed to search hers for something, desperation leaving the hazel irises to be replaced by what she remarked looked horribly close to resignation. She stepped towards him, a line appearing between her eyebrows as she scrutinized his eyes – hazel in colour, and slightly too small for his face behind the frames of his glasses.

“Your eyes aren’t brown,” she said almost stupidly, blinking up at him. “I’d always thought they were brown.”

His heavy sigh sent hot air rushing across her cheeks, the scent of beer and stale chewing gum enveloping her.

“I think you need to go home, Evans,” he said, running a hand through his hair slowly.

“Potter-” she began, before he cut her off

“Can you just – call me James? Like a normal person? So maybe I could call you Lily without feeling like I’ve just called my grandmother Dorea?”

“Why are you talking about your grandmother?” she asked, her forehead wrinkling in confusion.

“Because that’s what I do when I’m nervous! I projectile vomit stupid stuff I probably shouldn’t say-” he said hurriedly, his hand reaching up to ruffle the hair at the nape of his neck.

Usually, this particular quirk of his irked her beyond all comprehension, yet for some ungodly reason, cast in the semi-light emitting from the chipper’s condensation-covered window, the action looked almost endearing.

“I was talking about my epiglottis earlier, I think I can relate,” she interjected, raising her eyebrow.

The corners of his mouth tilted up into a half smile, and she felt her own copy the movement. The front of his shirt was wrinkled slightly where her hands had twisted the fabric, beads of sweat on his forehead still not evaporated even in the frigid cold night air.

“I like it when you call me Evans. Makes me want to smile, and hit you all at the one time,” she blurted out.

“Alright, admittedly not exactly what I was going for-”

“Everyone calls me Lily, or Lil. You’re the only one that calls me Evans. And I like it, because it’s different. Because you’re different. And whether you’re different because you’re destined to annoy me to death, or because of something else – I don’t really know. But I like when you call me it,” she said quickly, her breath releasing in a quick huff.

“…you do?” He blinked at her.

“I do.”

Silence descended on them, James rocking back onto his heels before shoving his hands into his pockets.

“And…that’s all you’re going to say?”

“Would you like me to say anything else?” she countered.

“Well – Christ, I dunno really.”

“I’m not going to start spouting poetry at any point, so if that’s what you’re looking for-”

“No, that’s definitely not what I’m looking for,” he chuckled tiredly “I just – want to know, really.

“You want to know what?”

“See – that I don’t even know. Do you – like me? Hate me? Mildly tolerate me? Why’d you kiss me? Things like that.”

“I-” she began, before biting her lip “Can’t really answer any of those.”

“Not even why you kissed me?”

“…possessed by a demon?”

His chuckle caused a smile to inch its way across her face.

“You’re something else, Evans.”

“So I’ve been told.”

“Any chance you might take pity and be a bit nicer to me now though? Considering you nearly headbutted me.”

“I most certainly did not you shit-”

“I know, I know. Keep your knickers on. You’re going to have to learn when I’m teasing you, you know.”

“Believe me, I usually know. I just don’t find your jokes all that funny.

“And there you have it, spear right through the heart. Have mercy, my sense of humour is more precious to me than my pride,” he said dramatically, clutching his heart.

“You’re such a dork, Potter.”

“So you love to tell me.” He grinned.

“Am I still hurting your fweelings?” she teased, raising an eyebrow jestingly.

“Oh, I’m almost used to it by now.”

“It seems I may end up needing to make it up to you, Potter.”

“Well if it’s anything like your apologies, I don’t think I want to know,” he laughed, causing Lily to scowl.

“It was a perfectly sufficient apol-”

The latter half of her sentence was cut off rather suddenly, Potter swooping down to press his lips against hers gently. His hand found its way to her waist, almost anchoring her to him, the heat from his hand radiating through the thin material of her top. If their first kiss had been rushed and jerky, this one was slow and cautionary, their noses brushing slightly as their heads tilted to accommodate the other – James nudging the frame of his glasses slightly so that they didn’t interfere as they had before. Her hands snaked their way around his neck, fingers gently brushing the closely cropped hair at the nape.

It wasn’t a kiss that stopped time, or made her weak at the knees. The wafting scent of chips, cheese and curry meant that she was more than aware that they stood in front of a greasy chipper, next door to a grotty pub. His shirt was still damp, and her shoes had begun to pinch, but the sheer warmth that enveloped her as he pulled his arms tighter around her, the little spark in her chest as their mouths moved in almost perfect synchronisation made it feel like an invitation, a tantalisation. A promise of what could be, rather than what was right there and then.

They broke apart slowly, their faces still almost impossibly close together. James chuckled a little, leaning towards her so their foreheads pressed together.

“Why did you do that?” she asked, her arms still wrapped loosely around his neck.

“Well – one, I sort of had to make up for earlier. And two, I could feel you working yourself up into a tizzy. And I think we’ve met our arguments quota for tonight.” He grinned.

“If you didn’t aggravate me, we wouldn’t argue.”

“Ah – but if we hadn’t argued, I wouldn’t have gotten to kiss you.”

“You know – this isn’t going to become a thing,” she said sharply “You’re not allowed to just start kissing me whenever you don’t like what I’m saying.”

“Oh, never dear Evans. Don’t worry – I enjoy your sparkling wit entirely too much,” he said, the reassuring tone he adopted completely cancelled out by the crinkles around his eyes which told her he was trying very hard not to smile.

“And here we have a classic example of where I don’t know whether I want to smile, or punch you.”

“How about we add a third option – you could always kiss me.”

“I wouldn’t bank on that, if I were you. I’m fully expecting to wake up tomorrow in a cold sweat of fear.”

“Well – let’s not worry ourselves with bruising my ego right now. How about you and I buy a bag of food poisoning each from this here lovely establishment, and see how long we can sit in each other’s company without arguing, hmm?” He grinned, raising an eyebrow.

“We won’t make it five minutes without killing each other,” she said, however her hand reached for his, their fingers intertwining as she began to tow him in the direction of the door.

“A little bit of optimism, yeah Evans? I think we could be on to something good here,” he countered, ducking to kiss Lily’s cheek.

“Stop that you-” She swatted him away, though her smile was completely destroying any illusion of annoyance.

“It seems I’ve found my new preferred method of annoying you, Evans.”

”Oh joy.”

#mise #jily #tw: alcohol #lily evans #james potter #sirius black

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mymelodyheart · 4 years ago

Text

Forget Me Not Chapter 19 ~A Matter of Fate~

Claire's heartfelt prayers recited in fraught, imploring whispers, reverberated in Jamie's consciousness, her desperate plea echoing all around him. Not quite able to determine the orientation of her voice, he desperately clung to the sound of her call to ground himself, as he felt his body float, the pull to the unknown too strong to resist. He willed any part of his body to move, but nothing was working apart from his memories. As random images flashed before him, he saw Claire from the past, reaching out and calling his name. "I got you, Jamie!" It was a twelve-year-old Claire, her cherubic face puckered in concentration as she held out a hand to him.

With determination and iron will, he lifted his hand to reach out, but the sound of a machine beeping and muffled voices intruded. Irritation and frustration surged through him. He wanted to shout out to be quiet so he could hear what Claire was trying to tell him. Oh, dear God, please let Jamie live. I'll do anything, just don't let him die.

Suddenly, the feeling of weightlessness passed, as his eyes flew open and panic seized his guts. The awareness of pain shooting up to his upper body made him want to be swathed once again in oblivion, but the need to see Claire was paramount. As the hazy fog in his brain slowly cleared, unfamiliar faces entered his line of vision, and the beeping of the machine began to accelerate. Where is she? Is she hurt? Is she safe?

There was a rush command for the doctor as a sea of arms fluttered about him, tugging, poking and pressing. He clenched his teeth as he tried to move, the burning agony from his back secondary to the one in his heart. Sassenach!

"Mr Fraser, ye are in the hospital, and ye've been shot. Please calm down," a male voice he couldn't attach to a face said.

"Where is she? I need to see her. Now!" His throat felt raw, and it hurt to talk.

"Who?"

"I think he's asking for his girlfriend."

"Quick, get her in before he does more damage."

As though he had conjured her with his thoughts, his eyes came into focus as Claire came towards his bed, hands outstretched. Jamie reached out and grabbed it like a lifeline, pulling her to him. Her clothes were covered in blood, and a terrible fear gripped his insides before he realised it was his own. Then she was beside him, her warm breath fanning his face, and that's all that mattered.

"Mr Fraser we're about to administer a sedative. Please take big deep breaths in your oxygen mask..." the doctor interrupted as three nurses rushed by his bedside.

"Jamie," Claire whispered, her trembling hand brushing his hair. "They're going to take care of you, ok? Let them take care of you. "

Everything around him slowed, and his mouth went dry. He didn't have enough strength to hold on to Claire's hand, and he hated letting go. "Don't leave me, Sassenach. I need ye here when I wake up."

"Ssshh, now. I'm not going anywhere."

And then his world went dark once more.

..........

When Jamie woke up again, it was in darkness and the only light in the room was the soft green glow cast by the monitors. He sensed an immediate comfort when he felt the unmistakable weight of Claire's hand curled up in his own. She had fallen asleep with her head resting on the side of his bed, her thick curls cascading over his arm. As he squeezed her hand, her head rose up, puffy eyes blinking to focus on him.

"Hey." She pushed a stray lock away from her exhausted, tear-stained face. "How are you feeling?"

He attempted to smile, but the memory of Claire jumping in line of gunfire assaulted him once more. "I'm not going to lie, Sassenach but I've felt better." When her face began to crumple, he tilted her chin up with his fingers. "My life flashed before me when... when ..." His throat worked as he tried to regain his composure. "I'm so sorry for putting ye through this. I dinna ken what Annalise was capable of. I couldn't bear to see ye or Willie hurt. I dinna regret one bit for taking that bullet. I would do it all over again for ye. H-how's Willie?"

"Willie is good but not too happy with what happened to you. And as for Annalise, the police have taken her away for psychiatric evaluation." Claire paused as she cast a tearful glance at him. "Oh, God. I can't stop reliving the bullet hitting you. Feeling you collapse against me and seeing your eyes ..."

He cradled her cheek with one hand and let out a heavy sigh. "What's important is, we came through it alive, Sassenach. Let us focus on that. She's gone now, and we have so much to look forward to." When she let out a heart-wrenching sob, a surge of guilt coursed through his entire being. He wouldn't have been able to forgive himself if Claire had taken the fall. "Don't scare me like that ever again. I don't think my heart would be able to cope."

For an excruciatingly long time, Claire simply stared at him. "It doesn't matter how I tried to replay the scenario and change the scenes in my head, one of us would have ended hurt. It wasn't anyone's fault. There was something not right with Annalise, but none of us saw that. Well, Willie did. But at the end of the day, no one could have foreseen what happened. We all wanted to help in our own way, so, please don't beat yourself up over this, Jamie." She reached out to trace the line of his stubbled jaw. "Ned is blaming himself too. He thinks he could've prevented it and because he wasn't able to, he feels he failed us."

"No ...Ned can only do so much." Jamie started, mentally blaming himself for bringing danger into their home. The possibility of a loss greater than his life made his chest constrict painfully. "I'm just glad ye're no' hurt." He held her gaze for a long moment before tugging her hand. "Come, crawl in here. I need to feel ye next to me, Sassenach."

Claire shook her head. "Jamie, ma and da are still outside. I really ought to go and tell them you're awake."

Frowning at her, he lifted the sheet on his good side. "Get in, Sassenach."

Claire rolled her eyes and let out an exasperated sigh as she climbed onto the bed so cautiously he had to smile. When she laid her head on the pillow and carefully put her arm across his chest, a sense of rightness engulfed him. "Ye were so brave. But at the same time, so reckless. I wanted to shake ye when ye stood in front of that gun."

Her body tensed against him. "I wanted to pull all her hair out after what she did to you and probably, I would have done more if you weren't bleeding so badly. I couldn't leave you...I had to apply pressure to your wound."

Jamie squeezed her hand. "Ye did the right thing, and in the end, ye saved all of us."

"I did? I wish I could have done more." Scooting closer, she traced swirling patterns on his chest. "When I look at you attached to a bunch of monitors, I can't help but wonder if I should have done something differently."

"Ye did good, Sassenach," Jamie said firmly. "Never, ever question that."

Propping herself up on her elbow, she leaned forward and kissed him softly. "I've never been so scared in my life. What happened earlier was scarier than bungee jumping. I never ever want to take our time together for granted," she whispered, her voice resonating with sincerity.

"Good."

"Good? You saved my life. I'm yours forever, James Fraser."

"Even better." He grinned. "Now, kiss me some more, Sassenach."

And so she did, with a reverence that shook him to the core.

...........

Jamie was alone with Willie when the doctor and two nurses came in. Claire had left earlier with Brian and Ellen to freshen up, change her clothes and check in with the hotel. Although she promised she would be back later, he wished she was there. Still shaken from the incident with Annalise, the need to have Claire by his side was stronger than ever.

"Good morning, Mr Fraser. How are we this morning?"

Jamie winced when he tried to move from his position. "Good morning, doc. Not particularly great to be quite honest. I guess that's to be expected after being shot, aye? I do have a bad headache, and the back of my legs feels numb, but I guess that can be fixed with a few strong painkillers. I was hoping..."

The doctor interrupted him. "That's understandable, Mr Fraser, but I'll get straight to the point. Ye're not out of the woods just yet." He paused, glancing at the clipboard he had in his hands. Clearing his throat, he continued. "I don't know if you are aware or if you have noticed... there was no exit wound from the bullet. That's because the bullet is lodged in your lower spinal canal."

Willie frowned. "I thought ye've taken the bullet out ..."

"No. After a lot of blood loss, it was imperative to stabilise his condition first and then perform a CT scan to determine the damage." The doctor gave Jamie a half-smile. "The good news is, there was no neurological damage, no cerebrospinal fluid leakage and the sphincter function appears to be normal. Now, we will need to operate as soon as your blood circulation is back on track. Hopefully, that will be soon as we want to prevent any delayed neurological damage and lead toxicity. The only impairment we found so far was hypoesthesia on the inside of both your thigh muscles; hence the numbness you are feeling right now."

Jamie attempted to move his thighs to verify the doctor's last words. Sure enough, the tingling and prickling sensation he felt was still there, as if the nerves have been compressed from sitting in one position for a long time. "This is all Greek to me, doctor. What does this all mean? Are there any guarantee I will be able to function normally after the operation?"

The doctor looked at him thoughtfully, contemplating his question. "No. The procedure could be straightforward, or it could get complicated. The presence of a migratory bullet in the spinal canal after a gunshot injury is very rare. But you are a healthy young man, Mr Fraser and that's what you have going for you. In the eventuality that something does go wrong ..."

Jamie didn't want to hear anymore. He'd heard enough. "I'll deal with it then."

"Very well. My colleague shall check up on you later. Meanwhile, get plenty of rest, Mr Fraser. You will need it for the operation." He nodded to them and the nurses before turning around to leave the room.

Both brothers remained silent for a while after the doctor left, caught up with their own thoughts. When the nurses were finally done monitoring and administering medication and intravenous infusions, Willie spoke up first. "Hey, everything will be alright."

Jamie gave him a brusque nod. After Claire had left earlier, he had been mentally making plans already about finishing the renovation of his house so he could ask her to move in with him. Now that there's a possibility he might not be whole again, the initial excitement had faded into a dull ache in his heart.

"Damn it, Jamie! Don't go silent on me. Ye need to talk. We've been through something very traumatic, so whatever is going through that head of yers, don't shut down," Willie pointed, shoving both his hands in his jean pockets.

His gut clenched. There were far too many ifs. He had brought danger to his family and Claire, and if the operation rendered him cripple, he couldn't possibly expect her to stay with him. After what she had been through all her life, she deserved to be happy, and not be weighed down by a man who isn't whole.

Shaking his thoughts, Jamie looked at his brother in the eye. "That promise ye made me, that still holds aye?"

Willie stared at him. "What promise? That promise ye made me keep when ye were shot?" He gave an incredulous laugh. "Ye ken fine, I'd watch over Claire. Always have and always will. But no way I will be yer replacement if that's what ye're thinking. Claire loves ye, and no rationalisation is going to make that fact disappear."

"And what if I broke it off with her?" Jamie challenged.

Willie glared at him in incredulity. "Then ye're a coward. Ye're scared shitless at the prospect of being not good enough for her," he replied, gruffly. "Besides, why are ye going down this road already? I've never known ye to be a defeatist. Ye ken, there is a considerable chance the operation will be a success, don't forget that."

Jamie held up his hand. "Aye, maybe I'm a coward, but this has nothing to do with me. It's about Claire and what she deserves in life. There is a big chance also the operation will not be successful, and if that happens, I cannot allow her to stay with me out of guilt and..."

"Fuck sake, Jamie! Are ye listening to yersel'? Aren't ye going to let Claire have a say in this? She thinks the world of ye and nothing, not even this, will stop her from loving ye. If ye break it off with her, ye might as well have pulled the trigger on that gun and shot her yersel'." When Willie saw Jamie flinched, he softened his voice. "Listen, I understand why ye feel the way ye do. But please, don't do this to Claire. And don't do this to yersel'. Both of ye deserve to be happy. Together."

Jamie opened his mouth to argue further, but it was too late.

The door opened, and a beaming Claire stood framed in the doorway holding a couple of paper bags in one hand and a Tupperware of edibles balance on the other. "Good morning! I shan't be too long. I thought I'd drop this by before I go to the hotel."

Smiling, Willie walked over to her and took off her load.

Jamie watched Claire approach him, and his heart stopped. She looked so fresh and beautiful in the morning sunlight that streamed through the windows as if the traumatic incident from last night never happened. Recognising the panic and fear clawing at his gut at the thought of sending her away from him, he pushed aside his worries about the operation.

He relaxed, a smile curving his lips. "Hello, beautiful. So, what goodies did ye bring for me?" He wanted so badly to be able to get out of bed, lift her up and kiss her thoroughly.

Amusement flickered in her whisky coloured eyes. "I brought you some toiletries and undies." She snorted a half-laugh. "And of course, a few of your favourite snacks."

Jamie studied her, looking for any residual distress from last night. It seemed she had recovered. "How much time do ye have for me, Sassenach?" he asked, cocking an eyebrow.

This time, Claire gave a full laugh. "I have half an hour, big boy. So don't waste our time together being grumpy at me."

Willie cleared his throat. "I'll be outside in the corridor, Claire. When ye're ready, I can take ye to work after."

Jamie almost forgot his brother was still there. He gave him an appreciative nod as he lifted the bedsheet for Claire to get in.

Without looking back at Willie, Claire slipped in next to Jamie. "Thanks, Willie!" She nestled her body close to Jamie, careful not to nudge his injury. Sighing in contentment, she slid her arm across his belly.

Jamie peered down at her loose riot of curls fanning his shoulders, her scent enveloping his senses. There was never any doubt in his mind that she loved him, after all, she had stood in the eye of death to protect those she loved. He owed her that bravery and confidence in their future, and he knew they have a rough road ahead of them. Glancing up the ceiling, he said a silent prayer for strength and hope. Tomorrow, there will be enough time for the hard conversation, but for now, he wanted to simply enjoy her warmth and the feeling of peace surrounding them.

Cradling her closer to him, Jamie dragged in a breath and set his shoulders for the most significant battle he had ever waged.

#melodyheart #forgetmenot #Claire Beauchamp/Jamie Fraser #outlanderfanfic

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