#sage green sofa

[sebastianchris]

New York Enclosed Living Room

Inspiration for a mid-sized contemporary enclosed carpeted living room remodel with orange walls, no fireplace and no tv

[diebarbiemusikkollektiv]

Guest Bedroom in San Francisco Inspiration for a sizable, traditional guest bedroom renovation with beige walls

[bvidzsoo]

The trace of you

Author: bvidzsoo

Pairing: psychiatrist!Jeong Yunho x patient!female reader

ꕤ Warning: bullying, mistreatment, ptsd, mentions of insanity & abuse, mental health talks, psychiatric diagnose, unethical thoughts and actions ꕤ Word count: 25.1k ꕤ Rating: mature ꕤ Genre: dated around the late 1800's, psychiatrist x patient, lots of yearning, mutual pinning, forbidden love, inspired by Alias Grace, angst ꕤ Summary: Being caged inside your home for a wrongdoing you can't even remember seems to not have the effect people have been expecting. With the arrival of a foreign doctor with studies unheard of before, your life takes a new turn. Will Doctor Jeong prove your innocence, or will he fall into your web like everyone else? Are you sane, or is he just as insane as his patients?

A/N: Helloo, my lovelies! ^^ Wrapping up this story took way too long due to me having some unplanned health issues that are still (?) kicking my ass...anyways, keep in mind while you're reading this that there are probably historical inaccuracies to this story, especially to South Korean history that I briefly read through when constructing Yunho character's background. The dresses MC wears also aren't the most accurate, but I hope you can look past that and imagine instead whatever you'd like. I watched the mini-series Alias Grace and was rather inspired by it, so you will find similarities to it within this story. I am no medical professional, so the diagnosis MC is given might be inaccurate even though I have taken my time to research these things. Let me know if I should tag anything else as a warning, and I really hope you enjoy this story as I have tried making it a bit different. Let me know your thoughts about it, I am always excited to read your feedback! <3 Oh, and, I hope Santa brings you something sweet tonight, this is my not so small present for you all! ^^ divider

            The old clock’s ticking seemed to only get louder by the second. The sheer curtains were pulled to the side to allow more sunlight inside the tea room, the grand doors opened to let in the late fresh summer breeze. The white hydrangeas lining the paths leading towards the back garden were gorgeous and carried a strong scent with them, I could smell it from my spot on the soft faded pink cushion of the sofa brought all the way from France. The tea room had been remodelled not long ago. There was something about it that gave old cottage vibes, but it has now been upgraded to a more fashionable Parisian feel. It was pretty, with hues of light peach and a darker coral, however, I used to like more the cosy feeling of the sage green and baby blue colours that had decorated the room once. Karina liked it more this way, she had said something about the lighter colours giving the impression of a bigger room. I did not understand why the tea room was required to look grander than it already was, but I didn’t question her judgment. It was best if I didn’t, not out loud, at least.

The servants were quietly waiting outside the room as my mother paced in front of us, Karina perched on a fancy chair with an abandoned book in her hands. I knew the ticking of the old clock and the silence was driving her mad, but I remained silent as I gazed forward, eyes on the gravel path. I longed to walk in the meadow close to our house, but I wasn’t allowed to roam around on my own. Even inside my own home, I was under constant surveillance. The doctors have said it was for my own sake, but it felt like I was in a continuous cage. It was suffocative, I couldn’t sleep some nights due to it, not even after drinking Mrs. Humphrey’s delicious camomile tea. My last hope resided in summer, in the warm breeze that kissed my cold skin, everything a lush green where I looked, to keep me sane. As sane as it could, since I was deemed a madwoman long ago.

Unlike the others who hired chauffeurs and dated carriages with old horses, this doctor arrived by a fancy patent motorcar. It wasn’t him driving it, at least the servants had whispered that to each other, but his long wool coat looked expensive too. My mother finally stopped pacing and Karina sighed in irritation when there was a knock at the front door. One maid stepped forward and opened the door for the doctor, gently greeting him. I couldn’t hear his voice, I was trying to catch the song of the birds outside, but I could feel the shift in the air. It was warmer inside as if the sun had stepped through our threshold. It warmed my skin like none other. Finally, the doctor was led towards the tea room, my back to him as my lips moved in a whispered song that comforted me. If I ignored the coil of my stomach and the sheen layer of sweat over my brows, I could convince myself that I was fine. That whoever came to check on me wasn’t another vicious man eager to torture a damned soul like mine.

“My apologies, ma’am, I am unfamiliar with these roads.” The man’s voice was deep yet soft, like honey, thick but inoffensive. At least if I told myself that, it calmed my rapid heartbeat. As I continued sitting rigidly, my fingers wrung together, the tremors never disappeared. It was something natural, the other doctors have concluded, something they couldn’t fix about me. Another thing they couldn’t fix about me. It was fine, I knew I had been damned a long time ago.

“Oh, it is no issue, we are glad you made it, Doctor.” My mother’s voice was filled with deep relief as the crease between her brows finally disappeared, hands locked behind her back as she rushed towards the entrance. Karina was surprisingly silent, but her expression spoke volumes. Her eyes had widened and her mouth had parted, fingers barely clutching the book in her hands anymore. I gulped, trying to steady my irregular breathing. I knew what was coming, the same questions and objects this doctor, too, would use to check my stability. I dreaded it all, I wanted to scream and throw a vase and make it shatter against the ground, but I would only be deemed even crazier. My eyes shook when I heard footsteps approach, heavier than those of my mother or Karina, it was the man. The Doctor. He was coming further inside, I could feel his eyes trained on my nape, no doubt curious and with a glint madder in his eyes than in mine, here to dissect me, pick me apart just to never fix me. I saw polished black shoes stop before me, and the lump in my throat almost made it impossible to speak up.

“Miss Harold, my name is Doctor Jeong Yunho.” Then, unlike any other doctor had done, this one’s knees bent until he was crouching in front of me, looking at me. His eyes were round and kind, a dark brown unlike my icy ones, and they were filled with warmth and softness I hadn’t seen in any other man. His nose had a perfect slope and his fair skin was sun-kissed, the apple of his cheeks a rosy red. His lips weren’t too big but pouty and full, asking to be traced gently by soft fingertips. I shuddered, completely taken aback by his youth and beauty. The man was from faraway lands, yet judging by his speech, you couldn’t tell until you saw him. He was gorgeous, he was breathtaking, “Would you feel safe if it was just the two of us in this room?”

No, I wanted to scream. My fingers tightened against each other, I gulped and hesitantly nodded, our eyes spilling into each other’s as if a spell had them locked together. His features were serene and sincere, not a frown on his beautiful face to create creases, just a soft smile pulling at his lips. It was disarming and frightening at the same time. Then, the doctor smiled even wider as he stood back up, his height intimidating. My heart raced as I watched him, unable to take my eyes off him. And he was still looking at me as he spoke up, “If you could excuse us, I’d like to speak to Miss Harold in privacy. It won’t take long, I promise. I’m only here today to familiarise myself with her.”

“Good, yes, Doctor, whatever you need.” My mother sounded reassured as she gripped Karina’s arm, yanking her out of the tea room as she seemingly didn’t want to go. Her eyes were fixed on Doctor Jeong, and her cheeks were blushed, “Would you like a cup of tea before we leave?”

“No, but thank you, Mrs. Harold.” The doctor hummed, his voice warm, as he sat across from me. He had no leather tool bag, nothing. He only carried a ragged satchel bag, a dark green with patches made to it, and it seemed mostly empty. My heart couldn’t settle down, not yet. Maybe his tools were hidden in the pockets of his long black coat. He hadn’t taken it off, and he looked like he wasn’t planning on staying for long. I couldn’t decide whether that thought reassured or unsettled me even more. Silence stretched on as we stared at each other, my throat dry, but I made no moves to drink from my fine China cup. I gulped when the doctor finally moved, reaching inside his bag. Here it came, the torture for the next hours, he was just like all those other doctors. I could feel tears prick at my eyes and my chest felt on fire, my lungs constricting, but the world seemed to stop moving when the man finally retracted his hand from inside his ragged bag. He held no tool to harm me, instead, a slightly withering daisy was gripped daintily between his long fingers.

“I plucked this for you on my way here, Miss Harold.” The doctor spoke, leaning forward to extend his hand towards me. A daisy, from a man like him. A man who felt like the sun itself, warming my cold particles, how unusual. When I did not move to take it from him, his happy expression seemed to fall slightly. Before he could feel more disappointment, I quickly leaned forward and grabbed it from his hand. Our fingertips brushed for a second and the doctor gulped, loudly. I loved wearing my copper hair in a simple bun, lined with fresh daisies. How coincidental that I had made myself a daisy crown just this morning, and now, the doctor had brought one for me. It would’ve been endearing if it was from a suitor, but I haven’t had one since I was sent to the asylum.

“Everything has a price, Doctor, what must I offer in exchange for this?” I found my voice, less shaky than I had expected. My insides were twisting in every possible direction, my heart hammering so fast it made me feel lightheaded. I wondered whether I’d remember the doctor tomorrow morning still. It wouldn’t be the first time I experienced sudden memory loss.

The doctor frowned, sitting back on the couch stiffly, “Perhaps, your honesty? Will you answer my questions?”

“Will you measure my head and poke at my skin like all those other doctors?”

“No, I’m not here to physically evaluate you. I’m here to glance inside your mind.”

“That unsettles me more than getting cut open to determine whether my blood is still red or not.”

“Had they done that to you?”

“Yes, you should rather ask what had they not done to me, Doctor Jeong.”

The doctor gulped, his dark eyebrows pulled together now and his lips downturned. He fished for something in his pocket, and a small pair of spectacles were placed low on his nose. It made him look more mature, more serious. I wondered if he wore it so that the other doctors would take him seriously, or whether because his eyesight wasn’t the best.

“I won’t cut you open, Miss Harold, I won’t even touch you during my examinations.” My heart skipped a beat despite hammering uncomfortably against my chest, and I wondered why. His words, however, did bring a little comfort.

“How will you determine what is wrong with me, then?” I raised my eyebrows, my fingers popping when I released the tension from them. I laid my palms flatly against my sage green dress, and the doctor’s eyes fleetingly glanced at them.

“By talking, by listening to your stories and thoughts.” The doctor spoke of a practice I hadn’t heard of before, “If you trust me, that is, your secrets will be safe with me.”

“Will they be?” I smiled, a little ashen, “The committee will want to hear what I said, there are no secrets we can keep with each other, Doctor Jeong.”

The doctor hummed, an almost amused smile pulling at his lips, “My profession requires me not to disclose anything personal, so, even if the committee wants to hear it, I won’t relay our conversations word for word, Miss Harold.”

I gulped, analysing the man’s face. He looked sincere, his eyebrows didn’t twitch and he wasn’t sweating despite the coat still around him. It was summer, and it was warm outside, albeit not inside the tea room, that is why the grand doors were opened to let the warmth in. This room reflected a lot about how I felt on the inside, always cold and hollow, waiting desperate for the warm sun to fill me up with its hotness until it burned me away. I wanted to burn, I wanted to be freed of all I had to endure until now.

“You need my honesty, but are you willing to be transparent with me?” My question seemed to take the doctor off guard as his eyes momentarily widened. Then, he clasped his long fingers together and placed his arms on his thighs, leaning forward in his seat.

“As long as it helps us move forward and remains professional, I can be transparent with you, Miss Harold.”

“You must’ve read the reports about me, do you think I’m mad, Doctor Jeong?”

“Isn’t everyone a little mad, Miss Harold?”

“I don’t know, you are the doctor between the two of us, Doctor Jeong.”

“Indeed, and I claim that nobody is without faults or sins.”

“Then you must be a religious person, no?”

“My profession contradicts my beliefs, yes, but I do believe there is something stronger and greater than us, Miss Harold. If we ask for forgiveness, we shall be pardoned.”

“Father Leon would love to have you at his service, Doctor Jeong.”

The doctor chuckled, a small smile settling over his lips as I realised I hadn’t looked away from the man since he had sat down on the couch. That was news. I never looked anyone in the eyes, as I didn’t feel comfortable. I had been told by previous doctors that they could see straight to my soul, my wicked mind and rottenness in the blueness of my irises. Now I never looked long enough to let them see what was inside my eyes, but this doctor didn’t seem to be afraid of me, of what he might find inside my eyes. Could he not see the darkness of my soul? Or was his faith so strong he preferred to spot the brightness before he was proven wrong by the wicked that permeated those like myself?

“Do you believe in God?” Doctor Jeong’s voice was louder than before, more filled with emotion as if my answer was crucial to him.

“I suppose I must. Everyone says the devil was the one to make me act like this, and I wonder where had God gone to let the devil do this to me.” Doctor Jeong’s cheeks became a darker colour as he licked his lips, mouth parting, but no words left it. I hummed, placing my right hand over my left one. Doctor Jeong wore one single band of silver ring on his middle finger on his right hand. He couldn’t have been married, then, I concluded.

“Perhaps you’ll find an answer to your question once I have done my job here.” Doctor Jeong’s tone caught a solemn note, but I said nothing as he grabbed his satchel bag and adjusted the collar of his white shirt. I watched the motion, eyes glued to the fair skin of his neck even as the man stood. His ears were flushing red too, I wondered why. I suppose the summer warmth had gotten to him at last.

“You are leaving already, doctor?” I asked as I looked up, standing when I realised he was about to depart. My mother had raised me with good manners, I would have even walked him to the front door if it weren’t for Karina suddenly barging inside, her jawline set tight as she sent me a fierce look of displeasure.

“Eager to have him all to yourself, sister?” Karina’s voice dripped with venom as she rushed further inside, rudely grabbing the doctor’s arm. What if he didn’t want to be touched? Karina lacked the awareness to consider that for a second. The doctor remained silent as he looked between me and Karina, and I just chuckled, looking down to the floor.

“I already have him all to myself, no need to be eager about it too.” The forced smile on Karina’s face would’ve satisfied me, but now I wanted both her and the doctor gone from my sight. My heart was racing again and I couldn’t breathe well, the tremors of my hands would’ve made me spill my tea if I were to drink from it. Perhaps Matilda could accompany me around the gardens, I wished to become one with nature for the remainder of the day.

“I shall see you tomorrow, Miss Harold.” Doctor Jeong bowed his head slightly before he let himself be dragged away by Karina, who sent me a glare that would’ve scared anyone else but me. I let them leave as I crumbled back onto the sofa, suddenly feeling faint. I couldn’t decide whether the doctor would pick my mind apart or not, and it was scarier that I had no idea how he’d do it.

            The air felt oppressive and thick, yet I could see the doctor’s motorcar approaching in the distance. Matilda had been kind enough to accompany me on my walk around the gardens, but she had rushed me back inside the tea room when my mother sent a butler to alert us that the doctor was fast approaching. Now, sitting on a chair by the open grand doors, I could see the dark clouds gathering around in the distance. It was as if they were trying to chase the doctor away, but he kept approaching until the motorcar's engine died down and his heavy footsteps echoed around the house. There was a knock at the door as my eyes watched a small white bird on a branch of a tree, my mind absent. The heavy footsteps approached further inside, and I turned my head to look up at the doctor.

“Hello, Miss Harold.” He said with an easy smile on his lips, holding his satchel bag in both hands. He didn’t wear a coat today, and the sleeves of his white shirt were rolled up. His nape was sweaty as the top buttons were unbuttoned. The heat had finally gotten to him, it could get rather cruel in this part of the county.

“Hello, Doctor Jeong.” The smile came easily to my face. Despite only meeting him yesterday, my heart wasn’t racing like before. Perhaps it was the absence of his leather tool bag and the fact that the man was so young and innocent-looking. Before we could proceed, however, there was a knock at the door.

“Doctor Jeong,” Karina’s unmistakable voice called out with a shake to it, “Would you like some tea before you start your…examination?”

“The heat is already killing me, but thank you.” He declined with a gentle flick of his wrist, yet Karina lingered in the doorway. She was only looking at the doctor, her favourite dress ironed out and tightly cinched at the waist. I turned in my seat and watched her with amusement. She wasn’t subtle at all.

“May I help you?” The doctor asked, sounding confused as Karina stood still and slightly jumped, looking down abashed.

“No, I’m sorry.” Then she finally departed, closing the door behind her as Doctor Jeong had asked. I slowly looked up at the handsome doctor, finding his eyes with ease as his spectacles were close to slipping off his nose again.

“Won’t you sit, Doctor?” I pointed towards the chair, which was placed a decent distance away from mine, just by the other door. The breeze had picked up into a strong wind now, it blew inside and rattled the sheer curtains. I welcomed it with closed eyes while the doctor settled in, the rustling of paper caught my attention as I slowly fluttered my eyes open once again. It was silent for a second as I looked at the doctor, who was already watching me. His pouty lips were parted and his ears seemed to be red. As my eyes travelled all over his fair skin, I noticed the glint of something silver underneath his white shirt. It appeared to be a necklace, and once he leaned forward to retrieve a pencil from his satchel bag, I spotted a silver cross hanging off it. He really was a believer, then.

“Did you want to sit here?” The doctor asked as he leaned back in his chair, crossing one long leg over the other. I hummed, clasping my hands together in my lap as the tremors slightly subsided. My heart was at ease, it finally wasn’t frantic like during breakfast and my walk in the gardens.

“Yes, I find nature most beautiful during this time,” I answered the doctor, turning my head to gaze at the white hydrangeas. Their scent was so strong I could almost taste it in my mouth.

“So, you like storms, Miss Harold?” The doctor asked and I chuckled, turning my head away when there was lightning in the distance.

“No, doctor, I’m terrified of storms.” I smiled as the doctor paused, he was jotting down my words in his notebook, I came to realise. He quirked an eyebrow, so I continued, “My father died saving me after I had fallen off the ship, the storm was terrible.”

The doctor hummed, his eyebrows slightly furrowing as he quickly noted what I had just said, “Are you afraid of water, then?”

“No,” I shook my head, our eyes meeting and staying locked as if we had been hypnotised by each other, “I’m only afraid of the destruction a storm can cause, even on land.”

“Have you seen many of those?”

“Yes, our neighbours’ barn was destroyed just last month, it was terrible.”

���Have you helped him?”

“As much as a woman can help, yes, I offered them my servants to help rebuild the barn.”

“Then you’re caring.”

“I suppose, if you say so, Doctor.”

“Do you not consider yourself a caring person, Miss Harold?” I smiled, watching the doctor’s expression even out as his pencil pressed a hole into the thin paper of his notebook.

“As a doctor, do you care for your patients?” I raised an eyebrow, genuinely curious since I hadn’t met anyone like him. If he dissected the mind, he must care for his patients, no?

“Within the limitations of my oath and law, yes, I do care for them.” Then the doctor seemed to consider his next words, licking his lips as his eyes bore into mine. They were wide and dark, and it was easy to get lost in them, “All I wish is to do is find a cure for them, to see them walk free of their shackles.”

“Can you cure madness, Doctor Jeong?” My voice sounded small, almost afraid. The doctor’s eyebrows furrowed as he averted his eyes, messily scribbling something down in his notebook. As I peeked at it, I realised the alphabet I was familiar with blended with one I did not know. Perhaps it was his mother tongue, then.

“Every person has a trigger, Miss Harold, if I find yours, I can cure it.” Then, he bit his bottom lip, and the added words were silent, “If you’ll let me.”

Silence stretched on, and I felt my heart race for the first time since I had seen the doctor today. It was unsettling, I felt my cheeks warm up. The redness from the doctor’s ears seemed to spread down towards his neck and chest, I wondered if his skin was as smooth as it looked at first glance. Then, without considering my next words, I let the truth slip past my chapped lips.

“I want to be free, sir, I don’t want to live like this for the rest of my life.” I had been young when I was convicted. My fate could have been much worse, but the men my father had been once acquittanced with owed him one, so they came to my aid. My sentence was very generous, the judge deemed me mad and unfit to be locked up in a women’s penitentiary, and instead, I was bound to constant surveillance for the rest of my life. Even when I slept, Matilda was there with me. Or my mother when the maid was too tired to continue keeping watch.

The doctor wetted his lips again, leaning slightly forward in his seat. The pencil was clutched tightly between his long fingers, and his tone had dropped lower too, “I can rid you of your burden if you’re honest with me, Miss Harold, I can set you free. But for that, you have to tell me everything that happened and made you do what you did.”

“Why won’t you say it, Doctor? Have you not read the reports? I was the talk of the whole town, still am, actually.”

“Something isn’t right about the reports, have you been truthful in your testimony?”

“Wouldn’t I be breaching the law if I wasn’t?”

“People lie all the time, Miss Harold.”

“May God forgive me for my sins, then, Doctor Jeong.”

A vein in the doctor’s forehead bulged as his jawline strained, mouth open but no words leaving his pretty lips. He huffed, then leaned back in the chair, eyebrows furrowing deeply as he wrote messily in the notebook once again. I smiled as I watched him, his black hair fell into his eyes as he looked down. His spectacles threatened to slide down his nose altogether, and I itched to fix it for him.

“Let’s start at the beginning, then, shall we?” The doctor’s tone had turned uncharacteristically soft as if he was talking to a frightened child. There was a fire in his eyes as he looked up once again and I gulped, feeling unsettled under his sudden undivided attention. His left palm pressed into the side of his thigh, his fingers tapping his black slacks rhythmically. I gulped, then nodded.

“What would you like to know about me, Doctor Jeong?”

“Tell me about your childhood. Your likes and dislikes, who is most dear to you and why. Have you loved before? Do you feel lonely now? Just tell me everything that crosses your mind.”

He wanted to know everything about me. It felt unravelling, dangerous. He had said my secrets would remain with him, would he note them down in the language only he spoke? Or would he tell the committee right after he was finished with his examination? Taking a deep breath, I turned my head to gaze outside once again, my lungs deflating as I exhaled long and loud. The lightning was closer now, the little birds were nowhere to be seen. Something coiled in my guts as my father’s face flashed behind my eyes, his warm smile and his kind tone still so present in my mind. If he were still here, perhaps nothing would’ve happened. There would be no Karina and Mr. Brooks, I wouldn’t be condemned for life.

“Much like I am afraid of storms, Doctor Jeong, I’m afraid of solace. It hadn’t always been like this, while my father was alive, I had never felt alone for even a second. He’d take me to the woods on horseback, we’d pluck flowers for my mother and he’d teach me everything he knew about the fauna and the poisonous mushrooms. He’d read stories for me before bedtime, and he had even taught me how to read. He was my favourite person, now it’s my mother and Matilda. She’s a young maid, we had found her hiding in the stable last winter. She was almost frozen to death, I thought I might be giving her a second chance at life if I took her in as my personal maid. She doesn’t speak much and I can’t tell whether she hates me or not, but I know she loves it when I take her on walks in the garden. I think she’s a little bit like me. Out there, in nature, we can both pretend to be free, just two girls roaming between flowers and giggling about the future.” The doctor’s hand seemed to be moving with my words, it was as if he tried to capture and note down everything I said. For that sole reason, I didn’t speak quickly, I let the words settle both in his mind and on his paper.

“I suppose my childhood isn’t anything special, I come from an aristocratic family, you must imagine what it was like. I was raised to have good manners and bow in front of men, but not without having an opinion and a mouth to voice them with. My father had been a fair man, he and my mother had always made every decision together, so he raised me to find a man who sees me as his equal and his other half. There had been moments when I had rebelled, I think that is only normal, but I was never a moody or explosive child. You can ask my mother about that, she’ll tell you so too.” I said as the doctor nodded along to my words, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration. I took a deep breath and watched his face as I continued talking, “There was only one thing I loved as much as I loved my father, and it was ballet. But that, too, was taken away after I was admitted to the asylum. Ever since then, I haven’t touched my pointe shoes. I had even asked Matilda to hide them deep inside my closet, my heart breaks anytime I catch a glimpse of them.”

A lump formed in my throat just from speaking about it, I could feel tears in my eyes as I watched the tree branches move violently with the strong wind. The willow tree looked gorgeous in the wake of the storm, and I wished nothing but to step under it and close my eyes, let the wind destroy my bun and rip the fresh daisies out of my hair. I took a deep breath, trying to ignore the dark flashes of memories I had tried to forget so badly. The asylum was a cursed place, filled with evil people who only caused more harm. I hated it and everyone that was associated with it. I could feel the doctor’s eyes on me, and he gulped, inhaling sharply. I glanced at him, and he looked amazed for some reason.

“Can you tell me about the asylum, Miss Harold?” My muscles tensed despite the doctor’s soft tone, and my heart started racing painfully in my chest. I thought wringing my fingers tighter together would stop the tremors from worsening, but it didn’t. I felt lightheaded as my own shrill screams echoed in my ears, but I couldn’t speak. My bottom lip shook as I took a breath through my mouth, and shook my head frantically, “Alright, it’s alright, Miss Harold. We won’t speak of it, take deep breaths.”

The doctor leaned forward in his seat and I rigidly turned to face him, my eyes wide in fear as I waited for him to strike. Maybe his mask would finally slip, maybe the tools were hidden inside his satchel bag. The notebook, his scribbling, my stories…maybe they were all just distractions. And yet, the doctor’s eyes remained kind and ridden with worry as he seemed to breathe through his mouth as well, as if he was mirroring my actions. I closed my eyes as the first thunder shook the ground, and inhaled deeply, keeping the air in my lungs until I couldn’t no more. I released the shuddered breath and opened my eyes again, only to see the doctor gulp, loudly. His pupils were dilated and made his eyes seem completely black, his fair cheeks flushed deeply as his long fingers tightened around his pencil once again.

“Perhaps we should end the examination here, Doctor Jeong.” My voice was strained as I gulped around nothing, “The storm is here. You should head home before it worsens.”

As if nature had agreed with me, the air filled with electricity as lightning struck not far away, the thunder loud and following shortly after. Doctor Jeong’s jaw tightened, but he nodded, humming approvingly. He swiped his bottom lip with his thumb before he grabbed his satchel bag, adjusting his spectacles as they did slip off the slope of his nose. Thunder wracked the earth again as a colder breeze billowed past us, ruffling my dress and the hair that had fallen out of my bun. It also moved Doctor Jeong’s messy hair, jelled back and out of his eyes in an attempt to make him look classy. As the doctor stood, slipping the notebook inside his satchel bag too, I mirrored him, smoothing down my dress.

“I call what we do here sessions, Miss Harold, and not examination.” The smile was easy on his lips and I hummed, flinching when the wind slammed the grand door of the tea room against the wall. Perhaps it was time to close them, “I shall see you tomorrow?”

“Of course, Doctor Jeong, please take care on your way home.” My eyebrows furrowed in worry as Doctor Jeong nodded, opening his mouth to say something just as the door to the tea room was yanked open. The man in the doorway was unfamiliar, but he looked worried.

“Mr Jeong, we should go now if we don’t want to be stranded somewhere on the road during the storm.” He must be the doctor’s driver, then. My mother appeared behind the driver, looking as worried as if the doctor was her own child.

“We have guest rooms, Doctor, you could always stay.” My mother was a kind and loving woman, her intentions hardly questionable, “I would hate it if something were to happen to you.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Harold, but I shall be on my way.” Doctor Jeong smiled widely, then faced me once again, and bowed his head much like yesterday. Perhaps it was their custom to take farewell like that, so, I bowed back to him. The doctor’s eyes widened for a second before his smile widened just slightly, and then he and his diver were gone, my mother’s expression was worried as she watched them leave from the front porch. Big droplets of water started falling from the dark clouds, and I quickly closed the grand doors as Matilda rushed inside to assist me. The rhythmic fall of the rain was a glaring reminder of my irregularly fast heartbeat.

The eyes were windows to one’s soul, or so Yunho had been taught. He had dealt with many cases during his practice period, and now as a certified psychiatrist, he had gained even more popularity in the West. He had no choice but to move at a young age, the world was an ever-changing place. He was young and curious, he wished to explore and find people that needed his expertise. But there was something so mesmerising about her eyes which left him unravelled and flustered like nothing else. Her words dripped with honey, and Yunho could swear he heard angels singing, accompanying her soft tone whenever she told stories. He was captivated. He ached to write down every single word she uttered, he felt desperate to pick apart her brain, to look inside it, to fix her. He was desperate to understand what had triggered her manic episode, he was desperate to tell the committee that she was innocent. But he was a doctor first and foremost, and his job forbade him from any personal attachment towards his patients. But whenever he looked into her icy blue eyes, the breeze brushing the fallen copper strands of her hair against her sun-kissed cheeks, he felt his very own soul stir and reach out in desperation to connect with hers, to possess it. She was a madwoman, and he was a man desperate to stay sane in her company.

            Another thing I completely wished to be free of was dinners, where I was forced to sit with my so-called happy family. The bags under Mr Brooks's eyes had been getting darker and darker lately, and the creases in his forehead were an obvious sign that something was worrying him. But it wasn’t my place to ask questions, so I continued to silently notice the small changes in his mood and behaviour. He had stopped pampering Karina, which was completely unheard of, and she was loud and clear with her complaints. She had wanted a silk nightgown just last week, but her father had denied her of it. He didn’t mention the cause, he only said she already has more than enough nightgowns. The clinking of silverware gave me something to focus on as my eyes were cast on the brussels sprouts on my plate, pushing around it as I didn’t enjoy their bitter taste. But Mrs Humphrey had cooked dinner with love, so I didn’t want to leave anything on my plate tonight. The silence around the table was broken as my mother grabbed her glass of wine, her kind eyes settling on me.

“Y/N, my dear, how are your examinations going?” I paused, feeling everyone’s eyes in the dining room on me. I gulped down the food I had in my mouth and tapped with a napkin at my lips, letting my hands fall in my lap as I hummed. Doctor Jeong’s words rang clearly in my mind, what we were doing was called sessions.

“They are called sessions, ‘ma, and they are going well,” I spoke gently, hoping she’d find my words reassuring. I knew she was constantly worrying about me, always fussing and around thinking I wouldn’t notice. I might be absent-minded a lot these days, but I’m mostly aware of my surroundings still. Mr Brooks nodded once, looking pleased as he wolfed down the steak Mrs Humphrey had made to be spicey, just like Mr Brooks liked it.

“That is lovely to hear,” My mother beamed at me, meanwhile Karina scoffed under her breath, “Do you find communication with the doctor difficult, perhaps? Or is everything clear between you two?”

Mr. Brooks nodded along, one eyebrow raised as he watched me curiously. I adjusted myself in my chair and plastered on a little smile, “Doctor Jeong is well-versed and rather attentive. He notes down everything I say in his notebook, and meanwhile, I have noticed he scribbles along in his mother tongue as well, I find no difficulties understanding him. He’s coherent and speaks English as if he was born around here.”

“That’s a very reassuring thing to hear, my dear.” Mr Brooks spoke up with a smile, the corners of his lips tugging up. Karina’s jawline was set tight as she let her fork clamper down loudly against her plate, her eyebrows raised mockingly.

“Why are we letting her spend time alone with that doctor, again? How is that helping her?” Her tone was high-pitched, filled with blatant jealousy that Mr Brooks and my mother remained oblivious to.

“Sweetheart, we’ve discussed this already,” Mr Brooks said with a tired sigh, giving his daughter a disapproving look, “Y/N needs a new medical approach, and Doctor Jeong is the best in this field. He came all the way here from South Korea when he was still just an apprentice. I’ve read up on him, he’s solved cases of mass hysteria and other mental issues no doctor could even come close to. Let’s not have this conversation again, Karina.”

Mr Brooks was mostly calling me insane to my face, but his words held no malice and I knew his intentions were pure. I couldn’t resent him for wanting to find a cure for me, something that could finally fix me. He had no obligation to look out for me like this, I wasn’t his daughter by blood, yet he had only treated me with kindness and understanding my whole life. He was a good man, perhaps a bit too absent from the household, but I could see in his eyes that he loved my mother dearly, and that was more than enough for me to accept him into our home. He couldn’t replace my father, but he filled the void that sometimes got too much.

“I think she just needs attention,” Karina hissed under her breath as she slammed her fist on the table, making the maids behind her jump, “What are you waiting for, stupid cunts?! My glass is empty!”

“Karina,” My mother muttered, her eyebrows pulled together as she gave her a displeased look while the poor maid scurried to fill Karina’s glass with wine, “A lady shouldn’t use such vulgar language, nonetheless in front of her elders.”

“Yeah, whatever Mrs Harold.” She scoffed as she glared at the maid, taking big gulps of her wine. I watched with distaste, catching Leia’s gaze for a split second. Her eyes were tear-filled and I bit my bottom lip to stop myself from speaking up, it would only start an argument I didn’t have the mental capacity for right now. But Karina wasn’t done as her sharp gaze fell on me, her tone harsh when she spoke again, “I know you enjoy spending time with the doctor alone, it makes you fantasize, doesn’t it? You’re just playing with him like with everyone else around you, sister, aren’t you? How long do you reckon until you get him riled up enough to get underneath your skirts—”

“Karina!” Mr Brooks's voice was loud and stern, his eyes set on his daughter with disgust in them, “How dare you say such things to your sister? In front of me and her mother, nonetheless! You should be ashamed, is this who I raised you to be?!”

Karina chuckled, humourless, “Right, father, you didn’t raise me at all, perhaps that is why I am like this. Maybe you shouldn’t have admitted mother into an asylum because she didn’t know how to silence a crying baby, hm?”

The silence that settled over the table made my skin crawl. If anyone would’ve dropped a pin, everyone could’ve heard it in the dining room. I released a shaky breath, the tremors worsening as Mr Brooks seemed to be struggling with containing his rage in front of my mother. Her mouth was open and a hand pressed against it, eyes shaking with pain and incredulity as she looked between Karina and her second husband. I took a deep breath and pushed my chair back, grabbing my plate to try and stabilise myself, to stay in the present. Eyes fell on me, and before Leia could come to approach me, I shook my head with a small smile, “I’ll let Mrs Humphrey know she outdid herself once again, then I will be retreating for bed. Matilda will accompany me, sleep well tonight, mother.”

As I left the dining room, I heard Mr Brooks weakly whisper a good night, then Karina’s sobs as she raced up the stairs, slamming the door to her room loudly. The chatter and good mood died down the second the kitchen door swung open, Leia following inside after me. Mrs Humphrey looked concerned when she noticed me holding my plate and went to stand up and take it from me, but I quickly shook my head.

“No, stay seated, Mrs Humphrey, dinner is absolutely delicious.” I said with a smile, and the other servants and maids seemed to relax as well, “Would you mind…if I finished my dinner here, with you?”

“Oh, come here, my dear.” Mrs Humphrey’s frown was deep as she beckoned me over, making space for me between herself and our butler, Jesper. He was still a young boy, his eyes filled with a youthful spark, full of life and happiness. He offered me a small smile and placed mushrooms filled with cheese on my plate, knowing I loved them. I chuckled and thanked him, then looked over the table and realised I felt most comfortable when around these people. They were simple, they were happy, and they made the most of their days. They were free, away from society’s judgemental eyes, and they lacked the prejudice the other aristocrats hadn’t even tried to hide around me. I felt like I belonged at this table, and as the happy chatter picked up again and Jesper made small talk with me, with Carla eagerly interjecting sometimes, I could feel my tense muscles relax and the void in my chest disappear. For a little while only, while I was still at this table, enjoying my dinner with the people who looked at me as if I was just a human too.

            The doctor was quickly growing on me. I couldn’t trust him, not yet, it would be too soon. It’s been only a week since he started visiting me for our sessions, but I started believing that he wasn’t playing a character when around me. He was genuine, his eyes sparkled curiously with each question he asked, his frown was always worried and it downturned his pretty pouty lips, and when he smiled, something warm seemed to flood my chest. I could only compare it to the sun, for I have never felt such warmth when gazing upon a man before. Not even when suitors were lining up in front of our house, asking for a chance at marrying me. The doctor was considerate and kind, he hung on to my every word. It was his profession, I knew he was only doing his job, but I couldn’t help but imagine he was a man interested in me, his notebooks filled with poems and sketches of me. It was a far-fetched fantasy, but it managed to warm my cheeks anytime I dwelled on it.

I was out in the back garden as I found myself thinking about the doctor again, excited to see him today as well. We had left off at a rather culminating point of my story yesterday, I wondered if he was as eager as I was to hear the rest of it. Matilda wasn’t feeling well today, and as my mother was in town, Carla was the one supervising me. I didn’t mind the change, she was a chatty girl and easily kept me from detaching from reality. Here, in the garden, as I thumbed at the leaves of the flowers, Carla was still speaking about an encounter with a fairy. A supposed fairy as she believed in God and deemed the little creatures spawns of evil.

“Tell me, young miss, do you believe it was Satan sending those fairies my way?” Carla’s voice was full of wonder, “Have I done something bad to attract his attention to me?”

“I don’t believe so, Carla.” I answered her quietly, my eyes following a bee as it flew from flower to flower, “You go to church every Sunday.”

“Perhaps I should go from now on every Wednesday and Sunday, too.” Carla huffed, hands on her hips as she tried avoiding the bee that was flying towards her. I chuckled, straightening up. The scent of the hydrangeas was familiar as I closed my eyes, inhaling it deeply into my lungs so that they would stay there for a long time.

“I don’t believe fairies are inherently evil, Carla.” I mused as the breeze brushed upon my cheeks, already flushed from the great heat. My dress was thin and simple, I couldn’t wear pompous dresses during summertime, they were too hot. I would often feel lightheaded from the strong sun, the thick dresses would only make me faint. The white fabric was soft against my skin, and the white ribbons brushed against my nape as my hair was pulled into two small buns at the base of my neck. I could’ve performed on stage looking like this, but even so much as looking at my pointe shoes would’ve hurt my soul. I didn’t let the memories resurface despite the sudden melancholia that wished to break through my emotions, “Fairies are small creatures that protect nature, maybe you had done something they didn’t approve of. Did you disrespect their land, perhaps? Or did you step on a flower they had blessed before? Fairies are territorial beings, and they are also quite vengeful. But if you ask Father Leon to bless you after service, I’m sure you’ll be just fine, Carla.”

The scoff that followed my words wasn’t coming from Carla. I didn’t open my eyes as I became aware of heavier footsteps approaching, I had completely missed the engine of his motorcar. I felt Karina stop behind me, but I turned my head towards the sun, basking in it. I couldn’t touch the celestial without burning to a crisp, but perhaps the one it had sent to me in human form was really here to save me. A clear of throat made me blink my eyes open, and I turned to look over my shoulder.

“If you have nothing else but fairies to talk about, then I don’t see why Doctor Jeong should entertain your madness any longer.” Karina’s eyes narrowed at me, “You belong in an asylum, sister.”

I smiled, a little amused, as an ugly grimace appeared on Carla’s face upon Karina’s comment. The maid made to open her mouth, which would’ve landed her in trouble, but the doctor beat her to it, “Thank you for walking me here, Miss Brooks. But I’d like to be left alone with Miss Harold, now.”

“Right,” Karina muttered, shooting me a jealous stare, “She gets to have you all to herself, as always.”

Then, she turned around and raised her skirt above her ankles to storm off. Carla nodded her head and followed after Karina, not in a hurry so that the woman wouldn’t pick a fight with Carla as well. The doctor sighed, pushing his small glasses up the bridge of his nose, looking a little bit bewildered. Then, he looked at me and the crease from his forehead disappeared. I was already smiling at him, my hands behind my back to hide the bad tremors. I had felt faint all day, but the doctor was here finally and I could finally take my first breath of fresh air of the day. I couldn’t help but smile widely at him, and watch as the flush from his ears quickly travelled down to his chest. Even more buttons of his loose white shirt were undone, the silver cross sitting against his chest now glinting under the sunlight. His trousers were high-waisted and the shirt was tucked neatly into it, a leather belt pulled around his waist. And there, in his right hand, was something white. I tilted my head in wonder as I looked at it, curious about what it was. The doctor liked bringing small gifts, mostly silly, but memorable.

“Hello, Doctor Jeong,” I spoke up, and the doctor released a loud breath.

“Hello, Miss Harold.” His voice shook slightly, then his fingers tightened around the strap of his satchel bag, “Here, I have something for you.”

Then he extended his right hand out towards me, and my eyes widened in surprise. I could tell the ballerina was made out of a napkin, I hadn’t seen anything like it before. My hands shook despite trying to ease the tremors, and my fingers hesitantly curled around the present as our skin brushed together. The doctor’s cheeks flushed rapidly, and I found myself unable to look into his warm eyes. I wondered if it was the heat that made our hands so clammy. I looked at the ballerina in my hands, melancholy overtaking me once again. I longed to dance around in the garden, Mrs Humphrey and my mother as my audience now that my father was gone, but it only brought back bad memories. I was too faint to twirl around now, my legs weren’t as strong as they once used to be. I would fall even before doing my first pirouette, it was depressing.

“How are you feeling today, Miss Harold?”

“Faint, but it’s from the heat, Doctor Jeong.”

We stood unmoving, our eyes boring into each other’s. I didn’t want to move to the tea room just yet, perhaps I longed to sit under the willow tree. The doctor made no moves, and so I said nothing about heading for the house. We were in eyesight if anyone were to look through the kitchen window, and we weren’t doing anything wrong.

“Thank you for the gift, Doctor Jeong, did you make it yourself?” I asked with round eyes, unable to keep the smile off my lips. The doctor flushed darker and averted his eyes, thumbing at his wet bottom lip.

“Yes, I thought it would cheer you up. I hope I wasn’t wrong.” His tone was tender and just a little hesitant, the doctor was almost cute like this.

“It did cheer me up, sir, I was thinking about ballet just now.” I paused, and waited for the doctor to look up into my eyes, “It seems you can already read my mind, I wonder how you do that.”

The doctor smiled, his forehead exposed as his dark strands were brushed away from his eyes, “We are making progress, then, reading your mind isn’t as easy as one might think.”

“And why is that?” I asked curiously, fiddling with the napkin in my hands.

“Because it’s very complex, you like to speak in riddles, and you evade most of my questions.” Then the doctor chuckled and I bit my bottom lip, averting my eyes in embarrassment, “You’re cunning, but I’m good at catching all the little hidden messages.”

I grinned at the doctor’s words, my suspicions confirmed. I knew I could play around with him, he seemed like a very smart man. Hearing he could read between the lines was more than satisfying. My heart skipped a beat, but it didn’t start racing like before.

“Do you like hydrangeas, Doctor?”

“Their scent is too intense for my liking, but they are pretty flowers, Miss Harold.”

“They symbolise purity and gratitude, even vanity in some cases.”

“What do they mean in your case, then?”

“Gratitude, Doctor Jeong, towards you.” Our eyes met again as I looked away from the white flowers, a sudden calmness settling upon my racing thoughts, “I hope the end of my story will be satisfying to you.”

The doctor gulped, loudly, then motioned towards the house, “Would you like to continue inside? Did you remember something of importance, perhaps?”

“Can we sit under the willow tree?” I raised an eyebrow, “Mrs Humphrey can see us from the kitchen if that’s of worry to you.”

“Sure, if you’ll feel comfortable.” The doctor nodded, fishing for his notebook and pencil as I hummed, leading us down the pebbled path, the willow tree was just by the end of it. The territory the house resided on came with a small pond, I liked watching the still water while sitting by the trunk of the willow tree. The doctor followed after me quietly, and he watched me settle down into the green grass, dress splaying out around me. It had ridden slightly up, exposing my shins as I pulled them underneath myself. The doctor seemed to be frozen, eyes glued to where my legs had been just seconds ago. Then, he gulped loudly and settled down next to me. He sat a little closer compared to the usual distance between our chairs, but his presence was soothing. I smiled as I faced him, eyes falling on his long fingers as he got comfortable, opening his notebook to where we had left off yesterday.

“I don’t remember anything new, doctor, but we haven’t reached that part of the story yet.” I smiled, then turned my head to gaze out at the pond, “Would you like to hear what happens next?”

The doctor exhaled, “You told me this noble boy barged inside your house in the middle of the night? He must’ve been madly in love with you to do such a thing.”

I chuckled, eyes focusing on the dragonflies above the pond, “I suppose he was at one point, yes. But men are easily converted, I find love like my mother and father had once shared hard to find, doctor. Our love didn’t last long, but I’m getting ahead of myself. It was a cold spring evening and he had been visiting, drinking with Mr Brooks to ask for permission to marry me. My mother was present too, of course, but she couldn’t say much against Mr Brook’s words. In the end, the proposal was accepted and the man left, only to come barging inside hours later.”

“Why did he do that?”

“Because he was drunk, and because he had something to say.”

“Did you hear him out?”

I chuckled, facing the doctor. His eyes were wide as he was watching me, pencil pressing against the white paper, “Yes, I did hear him out, but his words made no sense. He said something about a lavished lifestyle and a farmhouse, and something about being happy together even in a later age, it was endearing but very inadequate.”

“So, what did you do, then?” The doctor wasn’t even writing down what I was saying, it made me chuckle. The corner of his lips lifted subconsciously, he looked amused too.

“Nothing, I just kicked him out and told him to come back when he’s sober. His drunken words meant nothing to me. I did not want to marry a man who made foolish confessions in an inebriated state of mind, besides, he was a gentleman. He should have known better than to barge inside a lady’s home well past midnight, no, Doctor Jeong?” I quirked an eyebrow, my question seemed to snap the doctor out of his staring. He cleared his throat and looked down at his notebook, pausing for a few seconds before he jotted something down. I couldn’t read it, it was in a foreign language.

“N-no—I mean, yes, Miss Harold. That was rather inappropriate of him, I must imagine the discomfort he had created for you.” He had barely finished his sentence when a giggle bubbled past my lips.

“On the contrary, Doctor Jeong.” I grinned, ducking my head down to hide my amusement as confusion crossed the doctor’s features, “It was the most fun I’ve had in a while. Mrs Humphrey, my mother, and I had stayed up for hours giggling about it afterwards. We even made jokes about it and Mrs Humphrey let us drink her very secret brew that tastes like flowers but could knock out even a sailor with just two jugs. I have no idea what it is, but it’s very strong.”

The doctor’s eyes were filled with awe as I laughed, memories of easier times never failing to bring me in a good mood. It would’ve been easier like this, if things stayed put and if Karina wouldn’t have meddled with everything. I have faced hardships before, but having the person I considered my sister to betray me had stung like none other. In the end, neither one of us got what we wanted, just a lot of animosity and a tension-filled relationship. Sometimes I wanted to ask Karina if all of it was worth it, but I knew not to entertain an already greedy person.

“And how does this memory make you feel now?” Doctor Jeong’s tone was airy, and he wasn’t looking at me as he was scribbling in his notebook. I pondered for a second before I placed my hands on the grass, gripping it tightly between my fingers. Sometimes the tremors stopped when I grabbed something too hard.

“Bittersweet, but mostly happy. I’m grateful I was able to experience all of that at least once in my lifetime, others aren’t as lucky as I am. I am well aware of that.” The doctor nodded along as I spoke, but then he paused writing and looked at me with a frown.

“And when you think of that man? How does he make you feel, Miss Harold?” I gulped, not having expected that question. But it was easy to answer, I’ve pondered many times over this specific question, there wasn’t anything the doctor could surprise me with anymore. I smiled softly but knew the doctor could feel the shift in my mood.

“Mostly angry that I wasted years on that man when I could’ve found someone more decent, more loving.” Then I shrugged and watched as the doctor licked his lips, adjusting his spectacles on his nose, “Do you believe that God has everything planned for us, Doctor?”

“Mostly, yes, but we have enough free will to change the direction of our lives.” The doctor answered, his eyebrows furrowed in thought. I hummed, plucking the grass from the ground forcefully. My knuckles ached from how hard I had gripped onto it.

“You can’t run from what is meant for you, Doctor Jeong, we would’ve never met if I wouldn’t have gone mad.” But Doctor Jeong didn’t seem to be too convinced by my words. He chewed on his bottom lip, sweat rolling down between his pecks. I gulped, then averted my eyes from his exposed fair skin, and instead focused on his beautiful round brown eyes, “Are you glad we got to meet?”

The man’s eyes widened at my forward question, but I meant no harm nor did I have questionable reasons to ask such a thing. The doctor cleared his throat, playing with the pencil in his hands as he thought his answer over, “I’ll be glad once you are back to being yourself, until then, I cannot allow myself to feel any sort of satisfaction.”

“Don’t you think my madness is part of me, now?” I muttered, gazing off towards the house. The curtain in the kitchen moved, but I knew it wasn’t Mrs Humphrey. She was out in town with my mother at this hour. Doctor Jeong inhaled sharply, then closed his notebook loudly. The paper made a noisy sound, making me look over to him. The man looked aggravated as if my question had bothered him immensely, but I was merely curious about how he viewed me.

“Perhaps we should continue tomorrow, Miss Harold, and we must proceed with the story. The committee is pressing me with questions, they are very curious to hear the full story.” The doctor was avoiding my question, that was unusual. He stood, brushed the dirt off his trousers, then hastily grabbed his satchel bag and clumsily placed the notebook and his pencil inside.

“Thank you for indulging with me, Doctor Jeong.” I looked up at him, and had to shield my eyes from the sun, “I love sitting under the willow tree.”

“I will keep that in mind, Miss Harold, have a nice afternoon.” The doctor then bowed his head and I mirrored his actions, then he was rushing back towards the house, looking a little rigid. Karina stood in the doorway to the tea room, a tray filled with cookies and lemonade in her hands, but Doctor Jeong merely nodded at her and left the house in haste. Karina’s glare could be felt even from the distance, and I gently stood to head back inside, keeping the arrangement in mind. I wasn’t supposed to be unsupervised, I knew Carla would be in the laundry room if she had nothing else to do.

Yunho couldn’t sleep. He kept reading over and over his notes, all the small hidden messages making his head ache. His stomach growled in hunger, but he was physically unable to stand from his study and ask the housekeeper to prepare dinner for him. The girl was frail, she was soft-spoken but witty. She liked to keep him on his toes, and she was great at making him lose track of what was most important. He felt like he was making no progress, yet the committee kept pressing him for an answer. Father Louis was understanding enough not to ambush him with questions daily, but the rest of the officials weren’t. They wanted a diagnosis of Miss Harold already, they didn’t want to understand that Yunho couldn’t give his verdict in anything but a week. Building trust took time, getting to hear the unfiltered truth from someone who loved to play with her words took patience. Yunho was a patient person, but he wondered how long he had until he’d break. Whenever he closed his eyes, he felt as if she was watching him, standing over him, smiling at him. Her skin was sun-kissed and sometimes her cheeks were burnt from staying out in the sun for too long, but Yunho knew her skin would be soft. When he had twisted and turned his napkin into shapes, absentmindedly, he realised he had made a ballerina out of it. Thus, he had made his first mistake as a professional. He had allowed himself to sympathise with Miss Harold. He had allowed himself to notice her smile was brighter than the sun itself, and that she smelled an awful lot like those hydrangeas that Yunho was allergic to. And he had allowed himself to notice the tremors of her hands, making him yearn to hold her frail hands between his with the hopes of soothing her nerves. Yunho wondered if she yearned for him like she had yearned for her once lover.

            The clouds were almost black as they expanded over the horizon. The wind was too cold for us to keep the grand doors of the tea room open, so they remained closed as I sat on the soft sofa, gazing out through the glass. Matilda had left the curtains undrawn for me, and a few scented candles were lit to ease my muscles' tension. I couldn’t focus lately, these past three days my mood had quickly reclined. I know the doctor had noticed it too, but he didn’t prod more than it would be considered rude. I was reluctant to tell him the cause of my moroseness, he wasn’t here to listen to me weep about how unfairly Karina treated me. She had been ruthless these past three days. I knew she had a vendetta against me, but ever since the doctor started coming here, she had been progressively getting worse and worse. I could handle it until I couldn’t. If I ignored her and got lost in a deep spot in the back of my mind filled with happy memories, I would end up with a backhanded slap to my face. If I talked back and stood my ground, I would only fuel her fire, giving her power over me. Karina was clever, she knew when to strike. If my mother was around us, she was an angel. If the servants were watching, she’d be sharp and arrogant towards me. If Mr. Brooks was present, she didn’t bother hiding her disdain, but she wasn’t as straightforward as around the servants.

She didn’t hold back one bit if it was just the two of us. My eyes were lost on the gloomy visage, eyes tracking the swaying vines of the willow tree. It was even more beautiful in the eyes of the storm, I could’ve stared at it for hours on end. My mind was silent like this, absent of all the turbulent thoughts that shook me to my core and kept me up at night, when Matilda, poor girl, struggled to stay up and look over me. Just last night, she had fallen asleep, and I was grateful because I had a moment to myself where I could secretly slip away and walk through the gardens in hopes of clearing my mind. It wasn’t a smart decision, however, because I couldn’t remember anything after I stepped through the threshold of the house. I just know sometime later I was gasping for air as my arms were restricted and my throat was scratchy, Mr Brooks desperately trying to hold down my trashing body. My white nightgown was dirty with mud and the ends of it were dripping wet with pond water. It wasn’t foreign that I would lose consciousness if something lay heavily on my chest and gnawed at my thoughts, but it had been long since I had lost track of myself so deeply. Not since the incident, at least.

And Karina was enjoying it, her lips pulled into a nasty smirk as my mother cried by my side, asking Matilda and Leia to bring cold towels and help me clean up. Mr Brooks had looked tired as he gently helped me back to my room and tucked me into bed, his eyes pained and suffering as if I was blood-related to him. His expression made me feel guilty for worrying not just my mother, but also him. I felt terrible, yet I couldn’t control my mind or my body when these episodes happened. Even now, as I sat on the sofa waiting for the doctor to arrive, I felt lightheaded and on the brink of losing consciousness. My body felt light and heavy simultaneously, and I could feel my pulse in my neck. My lips felt chapped no matter how much tea I drank, and my throat was tight. I wanted to see the doctor, I needed to tell him why I had done what I had done. I had always been too afraid to confess the truth, not wanting to hurt my mother and break up the second family she cherished. But I also couldn’t continue living like this, not when Karina prayed for my downfall. Her harsh words from yesterday were still fresh in my mind, and I had to blink the tears away for a second.

“I know you’re just a whore, desperate to find another man to toy with.” She had spat with flushed cheeks, a cup filled halfway with wine in her hand, “Do you seriously think that doctor wants to touch you? You’re a deranged woman now, Y/N, nobody will want you. Not even Doctor Jeong Yunho, you whore. I won’t let you have him too, you always get what you want—but not this time, Y/N, mark my words.”

And just when I had thought she was done, she had marched up to me and grabbed me by the throat harshly, making me gasp, “If he doesn’t send you to an asylum, I will kill you myself, Y/N. You’re an abomination and a disgrace, even your own mother hates you, whore.”

The knock at the door startled me, I had been lost deep in thought. I turned my head and noticed Matilda giving me a small smile, “Young miss, the doctor is here to see you. Would you like me to prepare anything for you two?”

My heart skipped a beat, but I couldn’t tell why. Perhaps because I knew he’d take my mind off things, even if I was forced to relive the past I tried to bury deep down, sequences I couldn’t even remember anymore. Or, maybe, it was because I desperately wished to gaze upon his soft face, lose myself in his warm and round eyes peeking at me over his small spectacles. I couldn’t decide which was the reason, but I needed his presence to calm my turbulent mind and body finally.

“Thank you. I will welcome him inside, and you can take a break.” I stood up, hands balling into fists as nausea washed over me, “We won’t need anything, but I hope you get some sleep, Matilda. You’ve been watching over me for three days.”

“That is my duty, young miss.” Then she bowed her head before I could tell her she needed to take care of herself, and she took her leave. I smoothed down my long-sleeved dark blue dress now that the weather wasn’t as warm as days ago. I hadn’t pulled my hair into a bun today, even if it was not ladylike, I wished to feel my copper strands brushing against my cheeks when I moved my head. It shielded my face like a curtain if I didn’t want to be seen, I hoped Doctor Jeong wouldn’t mind.

Sucking in a deep breath and bracing myself, I left the tea room in search of the doctor, who should have been in the foyer, getting rid of his coat and dress shoes, but instead, he wasn’t there. I paused for a second to listen for his voice, and a smile pulled at my lips when I realised he was in the living room. Perhaps we could hold our session inside there today, I could play the piano and show him my favourite piece, if that, of course, was deemed fine by the doctor. As my fingers brushed against the wooden door, about to push it further open, I realised the doctor wasn’t alone. Karina’s sweet giggles flooded the room before she continued speaking.

“Surely, Doctor. I am pleased to hear you do not burn yourself out by coming here daily. I can only imagine how tiring it must be to listen to my sister, she’s rarely coherent. You must have noticed, given that you are a doctor, that she often has no idea where she is or who she is talking to. She tends to get lost in her own mind and blabber on about nonsense.” Karina then paused as my heart raced, my eyebrows furrowed in distaste, “She looks completely normal upon first glance, but it quickly becomes obvious she’s—well, she’s insane, you know?”

“I’m sorry, Miss Brooks, I cannot be discussing this with you.” Doctor Jeong’s voice was neutral, and cold, unlike the tone he used with me, “But as a licensed doctor, given that I am one, I can tell when her surroundings influence her mood, or why she is in a bad headspace.”

Karina scoffed, sounding a little offended, “Are you insinuating anything right now, Doctor Jeong? I don’t need a license to be able to tell that my sister is insane. How long until you realise she’s just trying to trap you here, twirl you up into her web of lies and fantasies? If you think you can help a mad person, Doctor, I fear you should seek help too. She’s beyond help, she’s desperate and pathetic, and as I have stated, she’s mad—”

“I am not mad!” Before I could stop myself, I let my anger take over me as I barged through the ajar room, “I am not insane, Karina, you’re always putting words in my mouth! Who has ruined everything I have ever had, huh?! You, you did, so don’t call me your sister. I am not your sister, and I will never be, you filthy skank!”

Karina gasped loudly, her hand flying up to her mouth. The doctor’s eyes had widened too, clearly taken aback by my outburst. I had been soft-spoken and kind in front of him, careful to not show anything he could incriminate me with in front of the committee. Karina had gotten what she wanted all this time, I suppose. Now, the doctor would make an early report that wasn’t favourable for me without even hearing the truth, or as much as I could remember of it. I gulped, feeling ashamed as tears filled my eyes, but I tried to keep myself from crying. Karina wailing like a banshee next to Doctor Jeong was more than humiliating enough to force me to keep myself in place.

“Enough,” The doctor snapped, his friendly and soft features morphing into something of anger and vexation. For a second, I thought it was directed towards me, but then he turned his head and his warm chocolate brown eyes fell on Karina, now sharp, “This is the last time I let you off the hook, Miss Brooks. If you don’t stop treating your sister so poorly, I will have to write you up on the board as the main suspect that causes Miss Harold’s turbulent manic episodes to occur, is that what you want? Do you wish to also be psychologically evaluated? I can do that, I can get one of my colleagues to come out here and question you, but you might be surprised to find yourself deemed insane too.”

Doctor Jeong’s words visibly shook Karina as she crumbled into an armchair, fingers sinking into her hair as she shook her head at the doctor, crocodile tears streaming down her cheeks pathetically. My heart was racing in my chest, the doctor was all I could see. His flushed cheeks from anger, his whitening knuckles around the strap of his satchel bag, his rapidly rising and falling chest—Jeong Yunho had stood up for me, taken my side. He was my doctor, he was supposed to look out for me, but he wasn’t obligated to protect me from claims that might be true. I didn’t feel insane, I never had, but Karina might still be right. Maybe I was a danger to society and Doctor Jeong hadn’t discovered why yet. It was only a matter of time until I exploded in his face, showing him my true colours. I had no idea what I was fully capable of, that part of my memory was still absent, but I could never forget the feeling of pure satisfaction and elation as I watched Karina lay on her back, gasping for air as blood trailed from her nose down to her mouth, chin, and then neck.

Doctor Jeong sighed loudly, his eyebrows furrowed as he licked his lips, shaking his head in almost disappointment at Karina. Then, he faced me and his features instantly softened. My heart raced again, and I hid my hands behind my back. Then, without many words, he came closer to me and nodded with his chin towards the stairs, “Would you mind if we skipped the tea room today, I’d like a more private setting.”

I gulped, feeling lightheaded once again, “No, the storm ruins the pretty visage either way.”

The doctor hummed as I turned around and took off towards the stairs, his strong footsteps loud behind me. My hands trembled as we ascended the creaky old stairs, my fingertips tracing the old railing. Doctor Jeong’s fingers were close to mine, tracing the same pattern as mine, so close yet so far away at the same time. I exhaled softly and tried to keep a clear head, but my nausea was getting worse as I led the way to my bedroom. My mother would’ve been outraged by the idea of leading a man inside my room, but this was the doctor, he was here to help. I couldn’t think of a more private room than my own bedroom, the heavy door closed and locked once we were inside. The doctor seemed to tense when he heard the lock, his back to me. I felt exposed, a little naked, now that the man was in my intimate space. There wasn’t much to my room except for a desk filled with books and poorly done sketches, and a vase filled with daisies and tulips. The doctor headed for my desk, meanwhile, I headed for my bed. The sheets were satin and silky as I lowered myself onto the edge of my bed, letting my hands sink into the fabric. With a questioning glance, the doctor turned my chair around to face me and sunk into it with a heavy sigh.

“I apologise.” My eyebrows rose in surprise as I tilted my head in question, “For letting your sister speak like that of you, I should have never let her go that far. I shouldn’t have even let her corner me like that and-and—it doesn’t matter. I understand if you need space after this, I might be able to convince the committee to give me a few more weeks.”

“She’s not my sister.” I whispered as I wrung my trembling fingers together, looking down in my lap, “Karina is not my blood sister, Doctor Jeong. I might have viewed her once as a sister, but not anymore.”

The doctor fumbled around for his notebook and pencil, which had gotten smaller from having sharpened it so often. The doctor’s eyebrows were furrowed as he pushed the spectacles up on the bridge of his perfect nose.

“Does this have to do anything with what happened on that day?” The doctor’s voice was gentle, understanding even. I bit my lower lip and nodded slowly, feeling my head swarm around uncontrollably. Would he know what to do with me if I were to pass out? He is a doctor, after all, but Matilda is the one who knows me best, perhaps I shouldn’t have locked the door.

“She-she really—hurt me that day, and I—” My throat felt dry as my lungs started heaving for air, “I don’t know—maybe I did want her to di-die—I can’t do this right now, Doctor Jeong, I’m sorry.”

Doctor Jeong’s bottom lip was between his teeth as he suddenly let his notebook rest on the desk behind him. He leaned forward, lowering his head as he tried to make eye contact with me. I gulped and kept my gaze focused on my tremor-ridden hands, “Listen to me, Miss Harold, we don’t have to talk about it today. I’m just here to chat, I can tell you are not feeling well. Your mother informed me through a letter that you had hurt yourself last night, may I know what happened? Can you tell me? I won’t even take notes, just this one time.”

I gulped, slowly raising my eyes to look up at the doctor. He wore a tight beige shirt today with a dark blue vest over it, his pants snugly fitting his long legs. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up to his elbows, showcasing his fair and smooth skin, veins bulging through. The wristwatch on his left hand looked fancy, the leather a very dark blue to match his vest. Doctor Jeong’s dark hair was swept back once again, but it looked fluffier today. I itched to reach out and run my fingers through his hair, wanting to feel its softness for myself. I tensed my muscles before I could do anything stupid like that. The doctor’s cheeks were slightly flushed, and his tooth was leaving a small white dent in his bottom lip. Because he was leaning forward, there was less distance between us, but still respectable. Like between doctor and patient.

“I—” I chewed on my bottom lip before taking a deep breath, “I haven’t been feeling well lately, Doctor, so I couldn’t sleep last night. I went for a walk and…I don’t remember what I did or what happened. Sometimes I lose consciousness while I’m awake, it’s frightening. I woke up with a muddied nightgown and a cut on my arm, Matilda had patched me up though.”

“How often does this happen?”

“Not that often.”

“Do you have an idea what may cause it?

“Well, yes. I think it’s Karina, she’s been antagonising me for the past three days and I’m so tired of it all. I just disassociate when I see her approaching me now, I’m sorry.”

The doctor sighed, rubbing his bottom lip with his thumb. His spectacles had slipped lower once again, “Do not apologise, you haven’t done anything wrong. I’m just glad you’re alright, Miss Harold.”

“The thought of you visiting daily keeps me afloat, Doctor Jeong, I have something to look forward to now.” I smiled, widely, and the doctor’s eyes widened before he blinked rapidly, looking stunned. Afraid the moment of lightness would pass by before I could grasp it, I continued, “Would you mind telling me your story today? What it’s like where you are from? How you were as a child? Is that…is that unprofessional? Are we not allowed to speak about you, Doctor?”

Doctor Jeong’s gulp was loud, then he took a deep breath and slowly leaned back in his chair, his legs spreading wide. He looked conflicted for just one second, but upon a glance at my face, he gave in. I couldn’t help but beam at the doctor as he chuckled, taking his spectacles off to place them on the desk behind himself.

“Where should I even start?” He hummed, looking towards the window, lost in thought. He was gorgeous, and he was kind. I hadn’t met a man like him before, I wished to trace my fingers along his jawline, but Karina was right. I couldn’t be a whore, not with this man, “As a child I was energetic and always blabbering on about whatever was inside my mind. I liked to ask a lot of questions, but I was reprimanded often for being too curious. Life is…different in South Korea at this time, very much different compared to how things run here. I am lucky I managed to sail so far away, my family has made great sacrifices for me to end up here. I’m not even able to send them often letters, it’s too risky.”

“Why?”

“Because they are in hiding, our belief in God is frowned upon, Catholics aren’t safe there now.” To prove a point, Doctor Jeong grabbed the silver cross underneath his shirt and brought it forward, clutching it tightly in his hands, “I can bravely say it here despite the other religions that exist, nobody has tried to murder me for it, so far. Besides, I cannot tell whether they still live where we did before I managed to sneak onto a French ship and escape. The elite class isn’t like the one here, it’s falling apart and I cannot be sure that my family are still part of it today.”

My eyebrows furrowed as an ashen look crossed the doctor’s face, “Do you miss your home?”

“Yes and no,” The doctor answered truthfully, “I was young when I sailed here, I had nothing and no one until my foster father found me. He was a Dutchman, very kind but unforgiving. I got lucky because he was a doctor and I came here to study advanced medicine with the hopes of once returning home and spreading the word, but I cannot go back, not yet. They’d shun me away, shame me and possibly kill me. South Korea isn’t welcoming of strangers yet, and in their eyes, I’d be one too for leaving our homeland only to return with new doctrines. Even if it means saving hundreds of lives. Not that I work with the physical body, but everyone needs someone who can soothe their soul once in a while.”

“You’re beyond courageous, Doctor Jeong, I admire you.” I sounded breathless as I closely listened to the doctor, making sure no word he uttered slipped by my ears. I wanted to know more about him, who he was and why he chose to be here. I couldn’t imagine being on my own, out on the streets, away from my mother, “I promise not to waste your time here, I’m almost at the end of my story.”

“I know, Miss Harold,” Doctor Jeong smiled softly, “Rather an acquittance than your doctor, I’d like to tell you that I look forward to our sessions. You are easy to connect with, and you don’t make it hard for me to glimpse inside your mind. I cannot say I understand each choice you’ve made, but that’s the beauty of having free will and individual thoughts, it sets us apart and makes us unique.”

I couldn’t help but blush as I averted my gaze from his intense one, feeling shy all of a sudden. The doctor wasn’t calling me specifically unique, but the implication was there, and I couldn’t help myself but imagine, “What about your home? What was that like, Doctor Jeong? And your family?”

For a second, he was silent. It made me think I had offended him in some way, but then his eyebrows slightly furrowed and he looked serious, “Since I am not talking to you as your doctor, you should just call me Yunho, if I may…Y/N?”

Hearing my name fall from his lips had my heart racing and my breath shuddering. I gulped, feeling speechless for a second as my eyes bore into Doctor Jeong’s, wondering if the man knew what it meant to drop such drastic formalities. But I obliged because I wanted his name to roll off my own lips like mine had done on his, desperate to fortify this frail bond between the two of us, doctor and patient, “Right, of course…Yunho.”

Doctor Jeong’s eyes fluttered shut for a second, his gulp was loud. I watched redness coat his ears down to his neck, his fingers digging into the wooden armrests. He was still wearing the silver band around his middle finger, I wondered whose it was. Was it from someone back home? Or was it from his foster father?

“Right, Y/N, well my home certainly was smaller than your house, and also built with different architecture in mind. And people don’t wear these fancy suits at home, we have our own traditional clothes that we proudly wear. I still have the one I arrived in tucked away as a means to never forget where I come from.” Doctor Jeong—Yunho—smiled softly, eyes glazed over with memories as he spoke quietly, almost as if to himself, “I have a younger brother, he’s the loveliest. I didn’t want to leave him home, not even my father and mother, but we would’ve been discovered if we were to run away together. My mother sent me off sobbing, clutching me to her chest and wondering if we’d see each other ever again. My father was a stoic man, but he had cried too. He had enough faith in me and God to know I’d make it out alive and become what they sent me away for. I left a dear friend behind too, but he promised to follow me one day. I do not know if we’ll see each other, perhaps he’s wandering around on a completely different continent, but at least I have something of his with me.”

My eyes flickered towards the silver band Yunho was absentmindedly playing with, his lips set in a tight line. So, the ring was from someone he dearly loved and cherished, I wished I could reach out and pat his hand to offer him comfort. But Yunho’s solemn look switched into one of contentment as he looked at me again, “Our house was in a lovely neighbourhood, filled with silence and the chirping of birds each early morning. Our servants were few, so they lived with us, and they had quickly become part of the family too. I would play in the dirt with my brother when our mother was busy in the kitchen, overlooking the cooks while also helping out. Our father worked long hours but he always returned with fresh flowers for my mother and some sort of western delicacy nobody was allowed to know about. I would often take walks on the beach, if there’s anything I miss terribly, it’s the wide sea and the calmness it brought with itself.”

“I love sailing,” I muttered, tucking my hands underneath my thighs as I hummed, “Despite what’s happened to my father, I find solace in the sea. It silences my fears, much like taking walks in the garden does. I feel like I belong to nature, that I can easily become one with it.”

“Nature is a beautiful place,” Yunho hummed, swiping his thumb against his bottom lip, watching me closely, “You’d love exploring the world.”

I chuckled sadly, “I would, Yunho, but I’m forced to rot away in this house under the very eyes of my servants and family. I can’t even be left alone here, sometimes I want it all to stop. Tell me, have you travelled a lot?”

Yunho looked abashed as he shrugged one shoulder, “Enough to see all sorts of places, people, and cases. Not each one had a happy ending, but I had learned something from each of them, so it was worth it in the end.”

“I wish to see the world, Yunho. I don’t want to be caged in here anymore. Could you set me free—no, will you set me free, Yunho?”

“I—I’ll try, I really will, Y/N. If you tell me the truth, I can help you and write a promising report on your case. But you have to be transparent with me for that to happen.”

“What if they don’t agree with you? See me as unstable and a danger to society, what then? Will I require a caretaker still?”

“I’m afraid, yes. Perhaps you’ll have even more severe surveillance, I’m sorry. I truly promise to do my best, but you have to trust me.”

“And what if…what if you became my caretaker?”

The silence that followed my question felt heavy, it felt wrong. I shouldn’t have asked that, but I was desperate to know how far Doctor Jeong would go to prove I wasn’t insane. And perhaps, a hidden sadistic part of me wanted to know just what exactly the doctor would do for me, to me.

“That would imply you are very unstable, I don’t think I’ve ever heard of such a thing.” Doctor Jeong breathed out, reaching for his spectacles.

“But would you become my caretaker?” I whispered, gazing up into his eyes with yearning as the doctor abruptly stood, “I wish to see the world, the places you go to. I wish to see South Korea once you’re allowed to go back, Yunho. Would you take me with you?”

He was packing his things frantically, breathing through his mouth loudly, “I cannot tell, Miss Harold, it implies great responsibility to look over someone unstable. Given if you were the object of my desires, I wouldn’t even consider becoming your caretaker, but I’m your doctor and it’s inappropriate.”

“Isn’t it only inappropriate if you make it that?” I stood, facing the doctor before he could run off. He looked conflicted and angry, so I backed off, “My apologies, I have taken you for granted and stepped over our boundaries as doctor and patient. I hope I haven’t made you too uncomfortable, Doctor Jeong, that’s not what I wished to do. I hope you can forgive me.”

“I will be back tomorrow, and you must tell me what happened, Miss Harold.” With a nod of his head, the doctor was at my door, quickly unlocking it, but he didn’t twist the knob right away. He took a deep breath and released it with a whisper, “And I would become your caretaker, if I could.”

His footsteps echoed through the house just as lightning struck in the distance. I walked to the window and watched the doctor get onto the motorcar as his butler drove away, trying to avoid the storm. And then, just like that, the world started spinning as blackness threatened to coat my vision.

            My knuckles were bloody from having picked at the skin consistently since I was awake. The tremors from my hand have extended to my whole body, my head felt underwater. I couldn’t understand what was happening around me, but I jumped each time thunder rumbled the earth. I know I had been placed on a chair in front of the window in my bedroom, Matilda sitting in the corner with my mother regularly checking on me, but I couldn’t tell what was being said to me or done around me. I didn’t have an appetite this morning, and getting out of bed was harder than ever before. I knew something was wrong, that something had disturbed my peace of mind, but I had no idea what this sudden change in my mood meant. I tried to break through the veil of haziness and speak to Matilda, tell her that my head was throbbing and my joints ached from how wrung up my body was, but my lips formed no words. I tried using the breathing technique Mrs Humphrey had once taught me, but nothing was working. I wasn’t able to control my body, and it was only making me more anxious.

The door to my room opened, but I continued to look out the window absentmindedly, bracing myself for the loud rumble when lightning struck again. After the doctor left yesterday, it hadn’t stopped raining ever since. I knew he couldn’t make it today, but he was determined enough to push through the storm and visit me. Unless it was a serious issue that needed to be urgently taken care of, the doctor never cancelled our session. The thought of seeing him when I felt so unwell managed to calm my racing heart, but until he was actually standing in front of me and I could gaze into his deep eyes, I couldn’t help but take shallow breaths as my muscles tensed up even more.

“Look at you,” It was Karina’s voice unmistakably, “trembling and sweating like a dying child, aren’t you? Who are you acting for, hm? The doctor isn’t here, Y/N, no need to act all pitiful like this, nobody in this house cares about you.”

Her voice was crystal clear for some reason, it made my ears ring as I released a shuddering breath. My mind was so askew that I couldn’t even answer her, I just needed a warm embrace and a deep voice to whisper that everything was fine. Did nobody care about me? That was so depressing, it brought tears to my eyes.

“Besides, he’s not coming today.” I failed to inhale as Karina continued to speak, “He sent a letter to your mother that he couldn’t find a carriage in time, so he isn’t coming. How tragic, all this acting only for him to not witness it…”

The sound that left my mouth was quiet, but unmistakably a whimper. Matilda shifted in her armchair and cleared her throat. I could see Karina through the reflection of the window, she was smirking maliciously as she stared at the back of my head. She looked so pleased with herself, that it made tears stream down my cheeks. I wanted to say something, but the lump in my throat was getting tighter and tighter, I realised I had stopped breathing. Why wouldn’t Yunho come? Was he like Karina too, did he not care about me? Did he lie to me yesterday? Was I worth so little that he couldn’t take on being my caretaker? Why must this be my fate? Why must I be forced never to leave this estate, this house, trapped under the eyes of people who either hate me or pity me? I wanted to sob, but the more I tried to breathe, the quicker I realised dark spots had started appearing in my vision.

“I don’t know what you two do during your little sessions, but the committee has given him one more week before he has to make his final report,” Karina chuckled, I heard her coming closer, fingers gripping the back of my chair, “And then, he’ll be all mine. I already talked to my father and he considers Doctor Jeong a nice suitor, how exciting. You can’t have him, Y/N, and he won’t have you either. I see the way you look at him, you are pathetic.”

Karina’s warm breath fanned my ear and cheek as she whispered her last words, cackling like an evil witch in all those fairytales my mother had told me about. My mouth parted to inhale deeply, but the spots grew darker, becoming more.

“Miss Brooks, please,” I heard Matilda plead as she sprung up from her seat, “Leave young miss alone, she isn’t feeling well.”

“Oh, shut up, you silly goose!” Karina snapped at Matilda, throwing her a disgusted look, “You and everyone else who feeds into her delusions should be admitted to an asylum, get a grip! She’s fine, she just needs her daily dose of attention, stupid girl.”

Hearing the word asylum cracked something further inside me as I sprung up from my seat, eyes wide and body cold. I looked at where Matilda was standing, but all I could see was the face of the man who found great pleasure in cutting me open just to leave me bleeding and helpless. A scream tried to tear through my throat, but I lost my balance as I tumbled to the floor, fingers digging into the floorboards painfully. Someone shrieked as my stomach heaved, but there was nothing to empty. I could hear the man’s words, his tone unbearable and scratchy as he told me I was worthless and a whore, hungry for male attention ever since my father had died. It made my skin crawl, it made me feel dirty and disgusting as I tried to scrape at my arms.

“Mrs Harold!” I could hear the panicked screams, but I couldn’t tell where I was anymore. I felt caged and in danger, like someone was leering over my shoulder, waiting for me to pass out so I could be targeted. I whimpered when I felt hands on my back and tried to slap them away, but I was forcefully hauled up to my feet. A wail finally tore through my lips, and I started trashing around when I felt myself being lifted off the floor and carried somewhere.

“No! No, stop!” I screamed, my voice nothing but a screech as my nails sunk into whoever was carrying me, “Don’t take me back there! I haven’t done anything, please! No—no! I didn’t mean to—I don’t know—wait, no, please, I’m sorry, stop!”

My body sunk into something very soft and warm as fingertips pressed into my skin, forcefully prying my eyes wide open. My lungs heaved for air as I tried to get away from whoever was touching me, but I couldn’t, they were stronger. They were always stronger, I could never get away. They would never leave me alone, I was always their little experiment. They would cut me open as if I was a rat, they would ask me questions and whip me even if I told the truth, they liked to touch me and make me beg for them to stop…I wanted to die. I couldn’t do this anymore. Why would they torture me like this? Did my mother not love me? Had my father’s ghost abandoned me?

“Please.” I managed to whisper when my body finally froze up, all fight leaving it. My muscles and joints ached, my heart thumped wildly, and I couldn’t hear my thoughts anymore.

“My baby, please, stop.” A female voice pleaded above me, “Nobody is hurting you, tell me what’s wrong, baby. I’m here, your mother is here, please.”

How could my mother be here? The asylum didn’t let anyone visit us. My eyes burned when I opened them, but I couldn’t see well, they were filled with tears. There, looming above me stood the one man I yearned for. His eyes were kind and brown like the most expensive Swiss chocolate, his skin fair with a rosy flush to his cheeks that made him endearing, small spectacles slipping down the perfect slope of his petite nose. The doctor was here.

“Yunho, save me.” My voice was barely audible as I croaked out my words, but I noticed my mother’s eyes widening before I drifted off to the darkness that had come to claim my body. Here, nobody could hurt me.

But even in my dreams, the miscreants wouldn’t leave me alone. I couldn’t tell where I was due to the darkness that enveloped me, but I felt frozen down to the bone. My summer dress did nothing to keep me warm, and the little friction to my arms only caused me to shiver more. I tried to call out to see if anyone was there with me, but my vocal cords wouldn’t even croak. My heart was racing and my eyes burned, I could tell I was in danger but I couldn’t see because of what. The impending doom I felt, however, said to me that I needed to run and that I needed to run now. So, I didn’t wait around as I grabbed the skirt of my dress and aimlessly took off, unable to see anything due to the permeating darkness. My feet hurt from all the little rocks that cut into it, and then something touched my cheek that made me cry out. It was warm, almost scorching hot against my frozen skin. There were whispers around me that I couldn’t make out, or understand even if I concentrated on them, but then one of them started making sense. It made more sense than the others, its timber familiar and warm, kind. Then, I could feel fingers tracing my left cheek, a calming hum easing my tense muscles until I could finally take a deep breath. It burned my lungs, it felt as if I was inhaling for the first time.

“Open your eyes, Miss Harold.” Then, just so that I only could hear it, the familiar voice whispered, “I’m here.”

A gasp tore through my lips as my eyes flew open, jolting me awake as I sat, frantically looking around. It was a lot darker in the room than the last time I was conscious, and the rain was hitting the roof of the house harder than before. Matilda, my mother, Mr Brooks, and Mrs Humphrey all stood at the foot of my bed, different emotions reigning on their faces. As I made eye contact with my mother, she let out a loud sob as she fell into Mr Brooks’ arms, and I felt my lower lip trembling. I hated seeing her in a state like that, worrying over me. Before I could cry too, my head was gently turned to the side until all I could see was the doctor. My mouth opened in shock as the doctor looked at me with sad, but worried, eyes, a wet rag clutched tightly in his other hand.

“Yunho.” My throat felt scratchy as I reached out incredulously, wondering whether I was just hallucinating. I noticed my bloody knuckles were bandaged now, ointment placed on the nightstand table next to my bed, “You are here? Really here?”

“Yes, Miss Harold.” He smiled gently, hesitantly letting me touch his jaw, “How are you feeling?”

“Sick,” I said before I could mule over my answer. My stomach was aching and my head was thumping, “I don’t know what happened to me, Doctor, I cannot remember.”

“Don’t try to remember now, your body and mind are overwhelmed,” Doctor Jeong then gently guided me to lay down in my bed once again, “You need to relax, Miss Harold. You fainted, and Miss Matilda has told me you haven’t eaten all day long, that’s unhealthy.”

“I’m sorry.” I felt like a child being chastised by their parent for the first time, except that Doctor Jeong’s face didn’t look even a little bit angry like my mother’s had back then, “I thought I would throw up if I ate anything, still do.”

The doctor hummed, then slightly turned to look back at the others in the room, “Mrs Humphrey, can you bring me that tea I asked you to brew? It will greatly help Miss Harold right now.”

“It’s storming outside, why did you come?” My eyebrows furrowed as I watched the doctor’s serene face, his spectacles were missing and his hair was a wavy mess on top of his head. Looking further down, I realised he wasn’t wearing his fancy suit. Instead, the doctor wore a beige tunic with the strings undone, showing a silver of his collarbones and chest. His silver cross dangled between his pecks whenever he moved forward to check for my temperature, letting the cold rag ease the thumping of my head. The doctor’s boots were still on his feet and looked muddy, but nobody was paying attention to that as he sat on the edge of my bed, taking care of me.

“I’m a doctor, my duty is to ensure my patients are healthy and safe.” Then he glanced back at my mother and Mr Brooks, Matilda had left the room with Mrs Humphrey, “You scared everyone, you scared me, Miss Harold.”

“Thank you for coming, but what you did was unsafe, Doctor Jeong.” I gulped, eyebrows furrowing in worry, “How will you get back home?”

“He will sleep here tonight, sweetheart.” Mr Brooks answered for the doctor, looking just as worried as I felt, “Can’t let him go out in this bad weather, it’s risky. I will ask the maids to make dinner for you, Doctor Jeong. The guestroom is already being prepared, your butler can sleep with the rest of the servants, if that is alright.”

“Yes, thank you for your hospitality.” Doctor Jeong bowed his head, smiling at Mr Brooks, “I’m sorry to say this, but Miss Harold should rest now and the more of us are in the room, the bigger the risk of overwhelming her is.”

“Oh, of course.” My mother whispered, her eyes glossy again, “Rest, my dear.”

I hummed as I watched her and Mr Brooks leave, leaving me alone with Doctor Jeong as the door closed after the two exited the room. I sighed long, looking at the doctor as he removed the rag from my forehead to wring it in more cold water. We said nothing as he placed the rag back onto my forehead, gently removing wet hair strands from my cheeks. He sat close to my body, but his eyes avoided looking into mine. I gulped, trying to find the right words to say just as there was a knock at the door. Doctor Jeong told them to come in and Matilda came inside with a tray and a cup of tea. She offered me a sad smile as she placed the cup of tea on the nightstand.

“Get some rest tonight, Matilda.”

“But you are not feeling well, young miss.”

“This is an order, how long until you faint from exhaustion? Please, I won’t leave my bed tonight, you shouldn’t either.” The maid looked hesitant, but didn’t say anything other than a quiet ‘thank you’, and then she was out of my room, closing the door after herself.

“Someone should check on you tonight, though.” Doctor Jeong said quietly as he helped me sit up, puffing up the pillows behind my back. He grabbed the cup of tea and handed it to me. It was still hot, its scent herbal. My nose twitched as I took a whiff of it before tasting it, cringing away from it, “It tastes horrible, I know, but it’s very good for your health. Drink it.”

It tasted so bitter I thought I would throw up on the spot, but it was supposed to make me feel better, so I toughened up and drank it as quickly as possible. The doctor watched me as I placed the cup on the nightstand, looking a little amused. I wrung my fingers together and placed them in my lap, looking down at my hands. I felt guilty for having forced the doctor to come all this way in such bad weather, yet he was looking at me with kind eyes and a soft smile.

“How do you feel now?” He asked, turning his body more to face me.

“Slightly better, my head isn’t thumping as violently as before, thank you.” I answered, sinking back into the pillows and cushions, “I think—this could be a grave accusation, but what if Karina is the reason I am like this?”

I couldn’t meet the doctor’s eyes as I chewed on my bottom lip, my thoughts whirling around too quickly for me to comprehend them. The doctor froze for a second, then I saw a hand reach out, only to settle on the blanket next to my thigh. I could feel Doctor Jeong’s body heat through the blanket, I wished he had placed his hand over my thigh instead.

“Why do you think that, Miss Harold?”

“May I call you Yunho?”

“Of course, Y/N.”

For a second, I paused and looked up with a smile. Yunho was already looking at me with a small smile on his lips, and I huffed a little embarrassed. Seeing him dressed so casually was doing something weird to me, my heart raced from excitement as I felt shy all of a sudden.

“Just like on that day, she was saying bad things to me again, antagonising me. I know she hates me, but I get so angry around her that sometimes I can’t even form words.” I gulped, eyebrows slightly furrowing as Yunho’s fingers twitched next to my thigh, “I wasn’t feeling well all day, but then she started speaking and I just—she brought the asylum up and I was back there again, being terrorised and touched—I can’t talk about it, I’m sorry, Yunho.”

“Let’s not talk about it, then.” Yunho’s jaw was clenched as he licked his lips, his forehead creasing as he leaned slightly forward.

“I don’t remember anything after that, even her words are muddy.” I felt helpless as my eyes bore into Yunho’s understanding ones, “Matilda was there the whole time, you can ask her what happened, I’m sure she’ll tell you everything. She hates Karina as much as I do, she wouldn’t lie for her.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, Y/N.” Yunho nodded once, then tilted his head to the side. I gulped, feeling nervous for no reason, “Do you think you’ll be able to sleep tonight? Are you feeling tired?”

I hummed, playing around with my fingers as I looked down at my lap again. Yunho’s fingers were tapping the blanket, his breaths audible but even, “I feel spent, and I know I will be able to sleep, but I’m…scared to fall asleep alone.”

“I understand, I’ll let Mrs Harold know. Perhaps she could keep you company.”

“Yunho?”

“Yes, Y/N?”

“Can you stay until I fall asleep?”

My voice was quiet as I glanced up at Yunho through my eyelashes, feeling my cheeks heat up. He looked taken aback, then something I couldn’t recognise crossed his features for a split second. He exhaled through his mouth and gulped, loudly. He hummed, deep in his chest, and flattened his palm against the blanket as he shuffled his feet around until his muddy boots hit the ground. I realigned my pillows and crawled a little further away on my bed, to make more space for Yunho as he made himself comfortable, still on the edge of it.

“But I cannot stay once you are sleeping, I’m sorry.”

“I know, it’s alright, Yunho.”

Our smiles were small but appreciative. Yunho nodded and chewed on his bottom lip, his eyes raking over my face as I watched his cheeks flush a deep shade of red. It wasn’t warm in my room, but I suppose the sheets could make him feel warm too. His hand balled into a fist, grabbing a tight hold of the blanket as I glanced down at it.

“Sweet dreams, Y/N.”

“You too, Yunho.”

Every waking moment he spent thinking of her. Even in his dreams, she appears as a vixen, tempting Yunho to do unforgivable things. He knows he cannot, he’s her doctor and she’s a patient in desperate need of treatment. Yunho knows this, she isn’t his first case. He’s met people with manic episodes before, potential dissociative amnesia too, but something sets her apart from the rest. Yunho has never once in his life wanted to reach out and cradle one of his patients to his chest and tell them everything would be alright now that he was there. But when he saw her, so frail and generous, soft-spoken and kind, he couldn’t help but feel anger whenever she told him of Karina. Yunho had a feeling she wasn’t like that unprovoked, and the more he heard of Karina and her schemes against his patient, the more convinced he was that Karina had lied in the first place to get her into that asylum, far away from the safety of her home. Yunho knew what went down inside an asylum, he’s treated many mentally unstable patients before, straight inside those horror houses, and his blood boiled anytime he saw pain and terror strike upon her face whenever the asylum was mentioned. Yunho didn’t want to know, truth be told, what had happened to her there because he was sure he’d march up to that asylum and strangle every man who had hurt her. He was a doctor, his ego and fame protected him from making a mistake, but when she had led him inside her bedroom, Yunho was close to throwing it all out the window, quite literally. Her unique scent of hydrangeas had been so potent inside her bedroom, and her sitting daintily on the cushions of her queen-sized bed had his thoughts going haywire. Yunho wanted to touch her, not just tell her that she was safe and sound with him, but show her too. He was wanting and wanting, and he wondered if her story would have a happy ending. Could he save her from the madness they plastered over her head? Or would he dig her a bigger hole once the committee hears his verdict of her mental state? But what Yunho most importantly needed to sort out with himself, was the question that’s been mulling over in his head ever since she had uttered it. Would he be willing to become her caretaker? Just to keep her safe and away from Karina, of course, Yunho was a professional, above all. He told himself he didn’t have second intentions with her, but the more days passed by spent in her company, he couldn’t tell for sure anymore.

            Karina was right about one thing, the committee had given Doctor Jeong one more week to sort out everything. He was right, I couldn’t beat around the bush anymore, besides, we had gotten close in my story to that faithful day. Doctor Jeong knew this, I knew it too. Because he was afraid of overwhelming me again too soon, he had given me two days of bed rest before he’d return to resume our sessions. The two days had gone by and I was nervously waiting for him in the foyer. After the storm passed, the heat returned even stronger. I didn’t wish to stay in the house, it aggravated me anytime I glanced towards the stairs, Karina’s injured body lying by the foot of it too clear in my mind. The doctor’s patent motorcar was louder today than other days as it rolled to the front of the house, where he was welcomed by Mr Allen, the gardener. He was an elderly man who had grown fond of Doctor Jeong like many others in the household. Myself included, which would explain why my heart was beating uncontrollably once again, sweat brimming my eyebrows.

“Will you be alright?” Leia asked as she shuffled past behind me, fresh bedsheets in her arms, “I don’t think Matilda will survive one of your episodes.”

Leia had no mal-intentions, she was just honest down to a pulp. I chuckled, glancing at her as she had stopped in the doorway to the laundry room.

“I might not survive another episode, too.” Leia’s eyes widened guiltily, but I continued to smile, “If the doctor writes a good report about me, I’ll finally be out of your hair, Leia. Pray for it.”

“I don’t believe in God, young miss.”

“Don’t let Doctor Jeong know that.”

Speaking of the devil, his knuckles rasped against the sturdy front door as Leia grinned, disappearing inside the laundry room. I opened the door before the doctor could knock again, welcoming him with a bright smile on my face. He paused, looking taken aback.

“Good morning, Doctor Jeong.” I greeted him, stepping aside to let him walk inside.

“Good morning, Miss Harold, you seem to be doing fine.” He returned a small smile as he shrugged his blazer off, wearing another tunic but fancier this time. It was a deep green, paired with his brown trousers which made him look like he was a huntsman returning from a long hunt to his wife, jittery to have her in his arms. I gulped, feeling embarrassed by my thoughts when I realised, I had imagined myself as the wife Doctor Jeong would return home to. It was inappropriate, but the thought was intrusive and fast before I could stop it.

“Thank you for letting me rest, it has helped.” I hummed, raising a hand when the doctor went to step out of his polished shoes, “Do you mind if we sit underneath the willow tree today?”

“Not at all,” The doctor beamed, taking me off guard, “I was just about to suggest it, you know we cannot postpone today’s topic. Being in a place you love might bring comfort, I hope, at least.”

“You are thoughtful,” I smiled, then led the way towards the tea room, the grand doors were pulled open, letting inside the fresh warm breeze. Mr Allen was in the doorway, trimming the bushes, but he made way for us when he spotted us. I offered him an appreciative smile as he raised his hand in a silent greeting, a straw of wheat between his teeth as he tipped his hat towards Doctor Jeong. The doctor bowed back to him politely before we made our way down the gravel path, headed towards the willow tree. The warmth today made me feel hot despite the thin summer dress I wore, its sleeves short with a sweetheart neckline. It was a sage green, a pretty contrast against my copper curls. Without needing to ask, Matilda has made a daisy crown to wrap around my bun. I felt pretty and safe covered in my favourite things, sitting underneath the willow tree as frogs ribbited down by the pond, bees buzzing by. The doctor got ready as he opened his satchel bag, taking his notebook and new pencil out. As we sat, I noticed our thighs brushing together, the doctor’s now musky cologne invading my senses. When he placed his notebook on his left thigh, twisting his upper body to face mine, the pages of it brushed against my own thigh too.

“In our last session, you spoke about visiting your father’s grave with your mother. You made him a daisy crown since he loved the flowers just as much as you do, and then, when you returned home, your once lover was waiting for you in the foyer.” Doctor Jeong’s tone was gentle but impersonal, he was a professional after all, “You stopped after you said you were fighting and it got…violent? You must elaborate on that, did nobody hear it? Did nobody help?”

I sighed, picking at the grass, “It didn’t get violent in the sense of a physical altercation, but our words were harsh and unforgiving. He called me many names that day, he broke my heart, Doctor Jeong. I know you are curious about what was said, and because it leads up to what happened between Karina and me, I shall tell you.”

The doctor was jotting down my words in his notebook, his hand flying over the page. His bottom lip was between his teeth as he pushed at his spectacles with his other hand. He hummed and briefly glanced at me when I remained quiet for too long. I had to brace myself, so, I took a deep breath and gazed at the doctor instead of at the house, finding my nerves calmer if I gazed at his beautiful face, and his chocolate brown eyes whenever he held eye contact.

“Matthew, the man I had once loved, was my fiancé. He had asked for my hand while my father was still alive, our love story goes way back. We’ve grown up together due to our father’s being friends, and chancefully had fallen in love too. He was always sweet and loving, he respected me, and always heard me out. I suppose that is what attracted me to him most, I could see a glimpse of how my father treated my mother in him. But we had our ups and downs too, he was way too jealous and hated it when I spoke to other men, meanwhile, I had no problem if he had female friends. After my father died…it was hard for me to come to terms with it, I was sad every day for a very long time. I didn’t want to see anyone but my mother, not even Matthew. He knew I needed time, but he was getting impatient, he was bringing up marriage more often than not, but I wasn’t ready yet. I had just lost my father and the thought of not walking down the aisle with him by my side just hurt too much.” I paused and licked my lips, pulling my knees up to my chest as I felt the doctor shift and lean even closer, “And then as my mother and I healed together, she found Mr Brooks. It took them a while to settle down, paperwork and whatnot got in the way as well as people talking nasty behind their backs, but when I found out Mr Brooks had a daughter too, I felt hopeful. I thought I would finally find a true friend, someone to share everything with. Karina was lovely at first, very kind and funny, I could easily consider her my sister even if we weren’t related by blood. But then, one evening we went out to a pub where she finally met Matthew, and things just…changed.”

Doctor Jeong hummed, still writing as I let my eyes take in his focused expression. His forehead was creased slightly as he chewed on his bottom lip, his neck flushed from the heat. I had also shifted more into his space subconsciously, and I had to refrain from tracing his brows before sinking my fingers into his smooth-looking hair, “You see, it wasn’t Matthew who had changed, but Karina’s attitude towards me. She became snappy and rude, she didn’t make it obvious, but I knew she was looking down on me. She barely talked to me now when my mother and her father weren’t around, but she somehow always found time to ask about Matthew. At first, I thought nothing much of it, I figured she might’ve not liked him too much and was looking out for me in an obscure way, but then I found their letters. Mr Allen was bringing in the post and I told him I would sort them out, so when I saw Matthew’s letter, of course I had assumed it was for me…except, it hadn’t been. It was addressed to Karina, and there were all sort of weird questions about me as if whatever Karina had said before had upset him.”

“Has Karina been sending him letters behind your back?” Doctor Jeong looked confused as he looked up at me, his round eyes narrowed and void of kindness. When the doctor was this serious, he looked almost frightening. But I knew he was kind and caring underneath that mask, so I didn’t care. I hummed and nodded, absentmindedly picking at the scabs that had formed over my bruised knuckles.

“Yes, and she was lying to him, saying very ugly things about me. Still to this day, I don’t understand why she did all of that. Leia says she’s blinded by jealousy and wants to be better than me, but unless Karina says it, I don’t want to believe it. Anyways, I didn’t confront Karina right away, I hurried over to Matthew’s house to talk to him.” I huffed sadly, looking at the doctor again, “He was just about to mount his horse and leave for the city, but when he saw me, he knew we had to talk. It turns out, Karina has been lying about me for months now, saying I was seeing other men behind his back and somehow even made up some evidence of it. She had sent him handkerchiefs that had been my father’s, claiming they were of those I was—sleeping with. She even told him I was badmouthing him and that I was only marrying him out of pity, and because my father had made me promise I would marry someone richer than my family. But—it was all lies! I loved Matthew, I always have! I wanted to marry him and have a nice household, but Karina took it all away from me. What he said to me…it had hurt a lot, and it still does, so I won’t repeat his words, but he broke off our engagement and told me to never appear in front of his eyes. I had loved him, Yunho…”

My throat clenched as I took a shuddering breath, eyes filled with tears. Yunho had stopped writing and looked at me with pain in his eyes, bottom lip between his teeth, “I’m sorry, you deserved better.”

I hummed with a sad chuckle and quickly wiped my eyes before the tears could fall. This was it, this is what Yunho had been desperately wanting to hear for a month now. I lowered my legs and looked at Yunho with a neutral expression, making his eyes widen minutely, “I know, but it’s okay. If God is watching like everyone claims him to be, Karina will be punished, and so will Matthew. I was a mess after that conversation with Matthew, and I cried all the way back home. My chest was clenching and my heart was thumping wildly, I thought that was what heartbreak felt like, and I still believe so. When I stumbled through our front door, Karina was just…there. Waiting for me in the foyer with an amused smirk. She didn’t even feign innocence as she asked what happened, she could clearly see Matthew’s crumbled letter in my hand. I won’t deny it, I said some very ugly things to her. I didn’t even let her speak as I exploded on her, I’m still surprised the house staff didn’t try to stop me. I have said this in my report too, but I struck first, I slapped her and pushed her back when she started laughing. She was only doing it to make me even angrier, and it was working.”

My muscles tensed as I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, keeping it in my lungs as Yunho’s jaw was clenched, his eyes focused on my face as I continued talking, “I needed space, so I backed away before I could do anything really hurtful. My head was thumping and my body was shaking, I felt like I was suffocating. Karina just continued laughing as I hurried to the stairs, wanting to lock myself in my room and cry myself to sleep. She was following after me, now cackling instead of laughing, and then she said something—something that I’ll never forget, ‘All that courting and playing around each other just to never even fuck him? Don’t worry, you’re not missing out on anything, sister, he’s not even good in bed.’ I saw red when I heard her say that, my thoughts were a mess and I didn’t even doubt the accuracy of her words. I just reacted, I know I slapped her again as I stopped on the stairs, but I couldn’t say anything as I was close to sobbing, so I just ran up the rest of the stairs, but she was still following after me. She was saying something, and I was screaming at her to shut up, but she wouldn’t. And I—I just really wanted her to shut up, to not look at me with those eyes and I just—I don’t know, Doctor, I don’t know. My whole body was shaking and I couldn’t see clearly, my head was aching and I couldn’t even hear anymore, I just—I just remember suddenly coming to myself again when there was a shrill screech. And then I remember Matilda looking at me with terror in her eyes as she called for Jesper and Mr Allen to come help, to call for a doctor.”

“In your report, you said—”

“I know what I said, Yunho, I said I turned around and gave her a backhanded slap, yanked on her hair and bashed her head against the wall before pushing her down the stairs.” Yunho’s eyes were shaking as our faces were close, “But I don’t remember doing any of those, the lawyer told me to say that to protect myself from a serious accusation. Matilda lied for me, and so did Mr Allen. In the end, Mr Brooks paid the judge and I was simply classified as insane, the case was swept under the rug and I’ve been forced to live like this ever since.”

“I knew there was something wrong with that report,” Yunho muttered under his breath, “But why did you lie?”

“I was young and scared,” I sighed, my eyes searching Yunho’s face for any judgment, but it wasn’t there, “I thought they would lock me up if I didn’t make up a story. But in the end, I was locked up in my own house for six years, a prison still, just different. I fainted in the court too, I don’t remember much from there either.”

Yunho looked troubled as his eyebrows were deeply furrowed, his bottom lip thoroughly chewed on, and his spectacles pushed up on his nose. With his free hand, he reached forward, but stopped just before his fingertips could touch my hand and instead balled it up into a fist and lowered it back into his lap. His jaw clenched as he gulped, shaking his head as he looked down at his notebook.

“I have a scar on my abdomen,” I whispered, hand pressing against my covered stomach, “from having fallen over and cutting myself, do you believe me, Doctor?”

When Yunho’s jaw just clenched and he didn’t look at me, I gulped nervously and reached towards my sleeves to pull them off, to let the dress pool at my waist, but one fleeting glance at me had Yunho reaching forward with a panic-ridden face, his eyes widening, “Stop, what are you doing? I believe you, Y/N, I do.”

His hands were big and warm, wrapped completely around mine as the sleeve of my dress swiftly slipped off my left shoulder. His thumb rubbed my bruised knuckles, and despite the sting, I welcomed the affectionate gesture as it covered my arms in goosebumps. I released a long breath, my eyes boring into Yunho’s. His eyes were easy to read, he looked conflicted and confused. I had no idea if he believed me, but I wanted him to. Hurting Karina was wrong, but she deserved it, and I was glad I managed to make her hurt at least once compared to how many times she had hurt me. But I remained silent as Yunho leaned even closer, our faces a breath away from each other. He gulped, loudly, then frowned. As I opened my mouth, he looked alarmed and scrambled backwards, letting my hands drop into my lap as he gasped, grabbing for his things frantically. I didn’t understand what was happening, but when I tried to help, he just pushed my hand away. My heart hammered in my chest nervously as sweat rolled down my temples, and I stood so quickly I got whiplash. Doctor Jeong was just about to take off towards the house when a desperate question left my lips.

“Will you save me, Doctor Jeong?” My voice was trembling just as much as Yunho’s hands, “Will you become my caretaker and take me away with you, will you?”

My questions went unanswered as Yunho ran off, not even bothering to go inside the house as he followed the cobbled path to the front of the house. The engine of his motorcar was loud as I slumped back against the tree with a dizzy head.

             The committee was more eager than I had thought at first to wrap this whole thing up. Just two days after my last encounter with the doctor, a letter came at an early morning hour that the verdict would be given today. I was nervous, but I braced myself for the worst possible ending, which would be me being sent back to the asylum. I doubted I would survive that once again, so I could only hope the doctor had taken pity on me and would be generous in his report. My mother had been buzzing around the house all morning, making sure everything was perfect for the arrival of the committee. Cookies had been baked, fresh tea was brewed, the ground floor aired out with every corner dusted off, and the tea room was decorated with vases of freshly picked flowers. The grand doors were opened, creating a serene surrounding as I sat on the sofa by myself. Nobody was inside the room except for me, something which was rare. I gaze forward, at the visage, trying to commit it to memory. I wondered if I would get to see it tomorrow too.

Matilda had dressed me in a dainty white dress to feign innocence, with my hair pulled in a low bun, and daisies hanging out of it. It felt as if the ghost of my father was here to cheer me on, to offer me some braveness before everything would unfold. And it would, way too soon. There were loud knocks against the front door before it was opened, and six people piled inside our foyer. My mother and Karina quickly walked inside the room with my mother sitting next to me, meanwhile, Karina took her spot in her favourite armchair. The image was eerily similar to the first day the doctor had arrived, it made my heart race. The rest of my future was in the hands of another man, and I couldn’t do anything about it. I knew what I had done to Karina was wrong, but a small part of me knew that she had deserved it. My muscles tensed when Mr Brooks’ voice carried inside the tea room as he led the committee and Doctor Jeong inside. My jaw clenched and my hands balled into fists as they each walked in, eyes on me as I remained unmoving.

The committee consisted of the town mayor, the judge who had handled my case, the town’s richest married couple, and Father Louis, the head of our church. My stomach churned as the familiar faces sat down surrounding me, leaving space for Doctor Jeong at the front. Mr Brook sat next to my mother and held her hand, making my mother sigh loudly. I didn’t want to look at anyone, I was afraid to see what they hid in their eyes. The doctor seemed tense as he rolled his shoulders a few times, then cleared his throat and accepted the tea from Mrs Humphrey, who had insisted on staying in the room, in the back where she didn’t bother anyone. I couldn’t focus on anyone else but the doctor as he finally seemed like he was ready to speak up. He faced the room and his eyes took in everyone, staying on me for a second too long. I could see Karina sneer from my peripheral vision, but I didn’t care. I was just as curious to hear what Doctor Jeong had to say as the committee.

“Dear committee, Mr and Miss Brooks, Mrs and Miss Harold, and of course, Mrs Humphrey,” Doctor Jeong bowed his head lightly, “Thank you for coming, and I’d like to thank the committee for entrusting me with this intricate and peculiar case. I must say before I begin, that I have encountered cases like Miss Harold’s before, but neither one has been as complex as hers. I trust my personal judgement and everything I have learned up until this point, that my verdict is the right choice, and that if the committee sees it fit as well, it shall proceed with Miss Harold’s sentence accordingly.”

Doctor Jeong’s fingers were wrung together in front of him, his dark blue suit was perfect. He looked dashingly handsome with his wavy hair falling all over his forehead and into his eyes, his spectacles perched into the pocket of his vest. His warm eyes found mine for a second before he looked around the room again, nodding to himself. He took a deep breath and continued his speech, starting to pace around the front of the room. Him standing in front of the garden and the path that led to the willow tree was dreamy, “We all know that Miss Harold had lost her father when she was young, which would be hard news to swallow for a person at any age. I assume that his early death left Miss Harold traumatised in a way that could go unnoticed unless looked upon by a professional, which didn’t happen. Her stress and repressed pain had accumulated, waiting for a small spark to ignite the explosion, which did happen as we all know it. I spent a month daily by Miss Harold’s side, listening to stories of her childhood, and her adulthood, all leading up to the moment we’ve all been curious about. During my time studying her, I’ve come to observe that she is a very kind soul, attentive, and a generous person. She is soft-spoken and very sensitive to everything that happens around her, it is rather hard for me to imagine she could even as much as hurt a fly.”

I gulped, feeling my heart hammer in my chest as Yunho spoke with much conviction, his eyebrows furrowed as he stopped moving around, his eyes settling on Father Louis, “Her mental state, however, fluctuates a lot based on her surroundings, she easily reacts to the change of weather and the change of mood of a person. People like Miss Harold aren’t only in touch with their peers, but with nature as well, as insane as that might sound, it’s a rather special attribute to have. She’s had bad days during our sessions, and I had the chance to further observe the cause of this. As a psychiatrist, I do not enjoy lightly throwing out diagnoses, but I have to ensure the health of my patients. Miss Harold suffers from manic episodes that get triggered by certain words, environmental changes, and people. In Miss Harold’s stories, I have found one person who seemed to be always around her when these episodes happened, making me confident in my theory that she is Miss Harold’s trigger.”

The people in the room gasped as they looked around. My heart was hammering, I could feel my pulse in my throat, but I couldn’t help but let out an amused huff. Karina’s eyes were wide and her knuckles white as she gripped the armrest of the armchair, fear painting her face. It felt satisfying looking at her, and if I hadn’t known the doctor better, I would’ve missed the satisfied smirk on his lips there for a millisecond, “If this wasn’t about the health of Miss Harold, I wouldn’t be throwing out names so unabashedly, but this is to ensure her safety and health. Miss Brooks seems to like to pick on Miss Harold whenever she gets the chance, and she likes provoking her sister. Before anyone could deny my claim, I was witness to such a thing happening, Miss Brooks herself has said some very rude things about Miss Harold that no lady should utter, less about their sister, even if not related by blood. That being said, I cannot throw all the blame on Miss Brooks since Miss Harold is traumatised and doesn’t know how to handle it, or how to control her outbursts.”

Then, as if there was nobody else in the room with us, Doctor Jeong’s eyes found mine, his expression softening. Karina had started crying next to me, but I couldn’t care less as my mother was glaring at her, the committee didn’t look very pleased either.

“What she said in her report…” Doctor Jeong loosened his necktie a little, licking his lips, “Turns out to be true. In a fit of rage, she disassociated and acted upon instinct. I do not know if she had told anyone, but Miss Brooks had come between Miss Harold and her fiancé, breaking off their marriage. As someone who had been in love once, much like all of you in this room, I’d like to assume, we all know what it means to experience our first heartbreak. For someone who had grown up with this boy, loved him with their whole heart, and was supposed to grow old with them, to hear their engagement was broken off based on some lies made up by Miss Brooks not too soon after Miss Harold’s has lost her father must’ve been devastating. Thus, the trauma she had experienced before due to her father’s untimely death combined with another tragedy has made Miss Harold’s mind break, lose its bearings, making her unable to tell right from wrong.”

I couldn’t breathe as my eyes bore into Yunho’s, filling with tears. I had expected him to go against me for having lied in my report, or to try and go around the topic without bringing it up much, but no, he was actively lying for me and keeping up the image that I had a lapse of judgement all this time. My mother’s hand found mine as she squeezed it reassuringly, tears streaming down her cheeks. I glanced at her fleetingly, my body buzzing with life as my hands trembled. I wanted to see the faces of the committee members, but Yunho was all I could look at. There was a heavy sigh in the room, it could’ve come from Mr Brooks or someone else, I couldn’t tell.

“I’m very close to giving my verdict, so allow me to say this before that,” Yunho smiled softly, looking towards the committee with a gentle look on his face, but with a steely look in his eyes, “Miss Harold’s is a human like all of us in this room, and she is allowed to make mistakes. She’s been punished for her mistakes, probably unfairly, and we mustn’t make the same mistake again. I have concluded, that Miss Harold needs an environmental change for her to fully heal. This house no longer feels homey to her, she feels caged in and watched all the time, plus now you all know that Miss Brooks won’t leave her alone either. As a verdict, I have concluded that if the committee and her mother agree, Miss Harold could be assigned a new caretaker. And…before you make suggestions as to who could fit this role best, I would like you all to consider me as her new caretaker for the next year. I am a doctor, I know what to do and how to act in case she is having another episode. I will be leaving the country in a month to return to France, where my foster father has requested my presence. The environmental change would benefit Miss Harold greatly, that is, if you trust me, of course.”

I felt close to fainting by the time Yunho had stopped talking. Him, Doctor Jeong Yunho, my new caretaker? Could that be possible? Would the committee even let it happen? I had no idea, but I wanted to fall in his arms and sob as I thanked him for his effort, for listening to me, for trying to save me from this place. The committee erupted in whispered mutters amongst themselves, but Father Louis seemed more than pleased with Yunho. His brows were sweaty as he dabbed at them with the back of his wrist, his arms covered with the sleeves despite the heat. My mother wasn’t moving next to me, and Mr Brooks had turned his body away from Karina, who was trying to catch her father’s gaze insistently. Then, there was a tsk as the judge rose to his feet, all eyes falling on him.

“Thank you. Doctor Jeong, for your in-depth analysis and for the tabs and reports you’ve been keeping on Miss Harold this month, we appreciate it.” He rubbed at his chin, his hair already silver from age, “We have selected you, Doctor, to treat this delicate case because we have heard of your expertise. You have never once failed to treat your patients accordingly, and I find no reason to doubt your verdict, however, wouldn’t it be risky to take Miss Harold away from here? Couldn’t that trigger her madness even more? And if Mrs Harold won’t agree, she cannot go. Either way, we cannot let her go unless you promise to report back to us monthly, Doctor Jeong, and once the one year is up, you must return her home. She shall be reevaluated, then her fate will be decided for the future.”

When Yunho and my eyes met again, I knew my fate had been sealed. France, a new beginning by his side, sounded like a far-fetched dream that was now within my reach.

Yunho was a professional, except when it came to her. The lines had blurred long ago, he couldn’t tell who was the doctor and who was the patient when it came to her. All Yunho knew was that he could never let her go, not when she clung to him as if her life depended on him. Her lips tasted like honey and her moans were the prettiest music he had ever had the chance to hear, her skin soft and warm and her body so pliant underneath his. All it took was one touch from her for his whole being to crumble, he felt drunk on her, insatiable. Yunho knew he couldn’t let her return home, not now that he’d found Mingi too, not when the three of them were living in a tucked away village in a homey cottage, away from prying eyes. Yunho finally had what he’d been yearning for his whole life. His family was back, right within his reach, and even when he missed his home, he’d gaze upon Mingi and her, and realise that his home was here with them. And she was sweet like nectar, Yunho’s guilty pleasure that he just couldn’t get rid of—didn’t want to get rid of. He was a bad man for preying upon the innocent and unassuming ones, but may God forgive him for his sins, he was just a man after all. He knew he was bound to become insane like his patients one day, but Yunho was already a madman for her, and he didn’t care. Profession be damned, only the four walls of their cottage would truly know the truth, much like her amnesiac brain that had no desire to return to a land and home that’s treated her so horribly once. Here, Yunho was a complete man and he had wowed to protect what was his…no matter what it took. Mingi and her were staying there with him, forever.

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[ruruumin]

four mondays before christmas

₊˚ ᗢ itoshi rin x gn! reader.

⤷ decorating a christmas tree with him.

“why are we decorating so early?” rin asks. in his 6’1 glory, he stands almost the same height as the plastic christmas tree you bought from the store. he holds onto a large strand of string lights that were alternated between a turquoise blue and white. 

today was november 30th. while it was officially the end of autumn (a shame because he wished it could last forever, it being winter meant he had to stay inside more often), it was too early to be setting up a tree in the living room. you should have at least waited for the thanksgiving leftovers in your fridge to be finished before doing anything christmas-related.

“because it’ll be fun coming home to a fully decorated living room!” you smile, guiding his arms around the tree to secure the lights between the thick, sage green leaves. “this is our first christmas living together, so i want to make it special.” 

now this brings back memories. from the day you signed the lease with him, to moving in all your stuff into a shared room, he vividly recalls the time you and him decorated the living room together. from plushies to a large cream-colored sofa that sat against the wall, it became a place he could call home. he’s looming over you with a light scowl, not a heavy one, because god knows he’s too in love with you to give you one of his signature itoshi frown. 

“you should have waited a little until it was december, idiot,” he mutters the last part softly, watching as you connect all the lights together. rumbling through an old cardboard box, you pull out several matching ornaments. 

“why is our tree turquoise blue this year? shouldn’t it be the regular christmas colors?” 

a hum escapes your lips, “i thought it’d be cute to do a different theme every year. my idea for this year is a winter wonderland, so i got a ton of fake snow and blue ornaments!” holding up said decoration, you let it dangle in front of your boyfriend. “wouldn’t it be cute to do something new every year?”

he ‘hmphs’ in response. this was rin’s way of saying: i love you so much, i want us to keep living together every single year and have a different tree so we can show sae how much better of a couple we are, because we are still together. 

or at the very least, that is what you think he’s saying, because he is quietly humming alongside the same christmas song as you, eyes lovingly watching you as you tie your turquoise ornaments to the tree. 

[ode-to-melpomene]

hello mel!!! your jason todd x artist! reader is a real gem, so delicious i think i would like to eat it!!! could i possible request a jason todd x famous poet!reader?

Anon, you get me.

I struggled a bit with the plot for this one, but I hope you like it regardless <3

Erato

Pairing: Jason Todd x gn poet!reader Synopsis: Jason convinces you to take a break. Word Count: 1281. Warnings: Established relationship and fluff!

The living room was dark. 

Blanketed in shadows, Red Hood stepped off the fire escape and into the apartment. Muscles taut, shoulders squared, jaw clenched tight beneath his helmet, he stalked with a panther’s grace through the shadows. Light on the balls of his feet, his heavy boots hardly made a sound against the floorboards of the creaky old Gotham apartment.

Red Hood kept his hand hovering inches from the gun on his waist as he stepped warily around the furniture. The white film obscuring his eyes trailed over the lamp atop an end table beside the familiar orange chaise sofa.

Something wasn’t right. It was so dark.

Filling the shadows with his presence, Red Hood slunk down the hallway. His broad figure filled the space, looming in the narrow hallway like a beast waiting to lunge from the darkness. His skin crawled with a sense of wrong, wrong, wrong. His teeth inched to sink into something. The scent of copper and gunpowder clung to his body armor, suffocating him as he inhaled it with each breath. His hackles rose.

There, at the end of the hall. The tiniest sliver of pale light filtered through the crack of an ajar door. Red Hood’s fingers twitched beside his gun, itching to reach for the grip that he knew fit so comfortably in the palm of his leather-clad hands.

Said hands, dirty and tainted, slid across the sage green surface of the door. Claws curled around the edge of the door, sliding through the gap. He inhaled deeply, a rumble like a growl deep in his chest as he steeled himself. Something was wrong, wrong wrong-

Red Hood pushed the door open and hovered in the doorway. A hulking, heaving, monstrous figure doused in oil-slick darkness that filled the entire threshold. Sharp eyes and predatory teeth staring down at-

You.

Your eyes jerked away from the dimly lit laptop screen on your desk and landed on the shadowed figure looming at the entrance to your home office.

“You didn’t leave the lamp on,” Red Hood gruffed, his fist clenching and unclenching at his side. You always left the lamp on.

Your eyes widened as you glanced around the dimly lit room, the blackout curtains drawn. “What time is it?” you demanded with a breathy sense of panicked realization.

“Three in the morning,” Jason breathed a sigh of relief and sagged against the doorway. “Scared me, angel. Thought somethin’ might have happened.” His gloved hands reached for his helmet, dragging the metal from his skin with a satisfied exhale. He rolled his head on his neck, stretching the aching muscles. “What are you still doing up?”

“Finally found a groove,” you replied, your gaze again fixed on the dim screen. Your fingers hastened over keys with a swiftness he hadn’t seen in days. He had grown used to the sluggish drawl and frustrated taps, your dramatic grumblings begging for inspiration to strike. “If I stop now, I- I’ve gotta get this done before-”

“The end of the week,” he finished, an exhausted, lopsided grin rising on his lips. He lifted a gloved hand to swipe sweaty hair from his skin. “How many have you written tonight?”

“Six,” you answered quickly, fingers pausing over the keys. The sound of heavy boots crossing the floor drew your attention and you found yourself staring up at Jason as he leaned forward and planted one hand on the desk. His helmet thudded onto the desk next to your hand. Your eyes met his, lips parting slightly at the curious expression he wore.

Jason always seemed like a statue to you. Strong, immovable, broad. Your eyes grazed over the scrawling scuffs and scratches of his suit that spiraled like vines climbing over his marble surface. The red highlights of his armor like maroon clematis, blossoming from the vines that held him together-

“Might have an idea for a seventh poem,” you began as you turned back towards your computer. Your breath hitched at the feeling of leather sliding up your throat and stopping to cup your jaw. Jason’s fingers curled slightly as he turned your head to meet his gaze again.

“When was the last time you took a break?”

“Um…” your tongue felt useless in your mouth as you stared up at him with wide eyes. Green eyes gleamed back at you, brows pinched together in a subtle scowl. Your stare roved over his face–the subtle crook of his nose, twice broken, and the thin scar tracing from his jaw to his cheek, and the wisp of sweat-damp black and silver hair that stuck to his forehead. “Probably… noon?”

Jason sighed. “C’mon, up.”

“Jay-”

“Up,” he prompted, hauling you up from your chair. Your palms flattened to his armored chest as you sought to stabilize yourself. Your fingers fanned out wide against the red sigil scrawled across his chest, then slid down to rest over his ribs. Jason hummed appreciatively and looped one arm around your waist, the other cupping your cheek. “Take a break with me, yeah? Know you need to get this done-”

“- I’ve got the book signing next week, and I need to have my draft turned in to my editor before then-”

“- But you’ll be no good to anyone strung out and exhausted.” Your cheeks warmed and you cast your eyes down. Your hands drifted back to the vibrant symbol across his chest. He was right, of course–he knew better than most how important it was to avoid being overworked… not that he heeded his own advice very often.

You jumped from your thoughts when his gloved hand closed around your wrist. You felt a pop from between your teeth and your gaze shot down to where he pulled your hand from your mouth, nail slightly torn. Oh. You were doing it again, and you hadn’t even noticed.

Jason brought your hand to his lips and laid a kiss on your palm, then trailed down and placed another on your wrist. It was like butterflies gracing your skin. His hands were strong as oak as he tugged you tighter against him-

“Yuck,” you said, jumping as he kissed your forearm and his wet, sweaty hair brushed your skin. You wrinkled your nose in disgust. He chuckled when you tried to pull your arm away.

A squeal escaped your lips when he buried his face in the crook of your neck. You squirmed at the ticklish feeling of Jason pressing open-mouthed kisses to your skin, dragging his damp face against your dry skin. “Jason! Gross!”

You groaned in disgust at the feeling of his damp hair dappling your skin. Your hands pushed at his shoulders, but his arms just pulled you tighter against him. There was no escape from the torment, and you whined pitifully in protest. He returned your frustration with a huffy laugh against your shoulder.

“You’re the worst.”

Jason grinned a crooked smile against your skin as his gloved hand slid into your hair and cradled your head against his chest. “C’mon, take a shower with me. Save some water. I can make dinner after, and we can eat in here while you wrap up.” He pulled away, his hair mussed as he gazed at you with a gentle expression. When he leaned in again it was to press barely there kisses to your jaw, your cheek, your temple, and back down. “Take a break with me.”

Your eyes fluttered shut as a content sigh left your lips. Your eyes felt heavy under his ministrations and you finally acknowledged the weary ache in your bones. You hummed quietly, a wordless reply to his request. 

You could spare thirty minutes.

[aquarelliwrites]

Reading Date

SHIP: Oscar Piastri x Reader BLURB: A miserably cold day during winter break gives Oscar the opportunity to have a closer look at one of your hobbies. CONTENT WARNINGS: passing mention of alcohol, fluff, you/yours pronouns with no specified gender, no use of Y/N

1.8k

Weak white daylight streamed in through the gauzy curtains of your sitting room - first illuminating dust particles caught floating in its path, then reaching you on the sofa. The sage green record player played its honeyed vintage notes at a leisurely pace, the soft tones of a melody on piano only there for you to hear.

By all means, you were happy with this. The radiator right under the window kept the sitting room at a relatively normal temperature considering the miserable January weather outside, and you buried yourself in blankets in addition - if someone were to ask, you'd have to guess some number between 3 and 5, all covering different parts of you.

The collection of essays you'd been dragging yourself through reading was finally finished, which made you more than happy to pull one of your 'rainy day' books off the shelf and decide if it was a worthy successor to the last novel you'd read. The essays were incredibly interesting and provided a fresh view of the world, sure, but sometimes all you really needed was a good piece of fiction to sink your teeth into. Your boyfriend sometimes teased you about the number of books you bought and never read, but your argument was sound: you often needed the story to find you at the right time to enjoy it fully.

Speak of the devil - a door down the hallway creaked open and closed faintly, and you hear Oscar's soft footsteps on the hardwood shortly before he speaks up.

"Good morning." He really was the embodiment of a polite cat right then and there - cozy clothes, tired smile, a voice still scratchy from sleep.

"Good morning, darling," you smiled back. His hands held the back of the couch behind you, and you observed the way they supported his weight before craning your neck upwards to see him looking at you upside-down. "How'd you sleep? Sorry if the music woke you up."

"Oh, no, don't worry about that." He rested his entire forearm on the backrest now, laying his head in a way where it was right next to yours. You swore you got goosebumps from the way his morning voice spoken right next to your ear scratched your brain just right. "I couldn't even hear it in the hallway. I slept fine. Take it you did too?"

You nodded, sitting up slightly and reaching for his cheek to press a soft kiss on his lips. He let out a satisfied hum, reaching up to tangle his hand in your hair. You weren't a new couple by any means, having not been in your 'honeymoon lovebirds' phase for at least a year or two by now; still, you loved that every kiss and small gesture you exchanged still made you feel as warm and bright as the day you met.

"How does coffee sound?" He asked when he pulled away, his hand traveling from your hair to cradle your face. Tiny sparks lit a fire under where his thumb ran over the apple of your cheek, and you briefly shut your eyes to savor the moment.

"Coffee sounds great, Osc,” you spoke, and after his pointed pause chuckled, “please and thank you."

His laugh is in harmony with the song on the vinyl - although maybe you’re just young and in love and so it seems that way. The sound of him grinding coffee beans for you both sort of fades into the background, so you don’t really notice he’s back until a latte’s placed on the side table next to you. In the rich foam, the figure of a lopsided heart catches your attention.

“You did latte art for me,” you gush, a grin seemingly stuck on your face as he sets his mug down by the other end of the sofa. It’s nearly surreal: the athlete behind the visor is curling up on the couch with you now, sipping a latte from a matching mug and choosing a Netflix show. Lifting the needle and turning off the turntable, you watch the vinyl come to a slow stop before putting it away with care.

You’re left sitting in a comfortable silence after that, with background noise of muffled dialogue and the occasional flipping of a page. He did manage to end up with his legs completely in your space under the blankets, though. Not that you minded.

“You don’t have anything planned for today, right?” Is it shitty if he secretly really, really hoped you would say no?

"No.” He breathed a silent sigh of relief, and you smiled at his antics. “I was thinking about maybe, possibly taking a walk later, but…" you looked out of the window. The street outside was empty and foggy, and the overcast sky enveloped everything like the world’s most depressing duvet. “I’d have to bundle up, and I’m just not feeling it right now.”

"We could have a day in. Just the two of us."

"That sounds lovely, Osc." And with that, you were back to silence, each of you cozy in your own little bubble.

Oscar did end up having to get up later on your behalf to bring you a snack, but he lingered by the bookshelf for a strangely long time on his way back.

"What's up?" You glanced over to see him craning his head sideways and examining the titles.

"I kind of want to read with you. Just… not sure what." It’s cute how focused he was - his brows furrowed adorably and he chewed his lower lip a little. He didn’t even know how attractive you found him like that.

"I thought you weren't a book person."

"You seem like you enjoy it." He shrugged. "Any recommendations?"

It was a couple of beats of collective pondering of the titles before you clicked your tongue and pointed to the middle rack. "Uh, fifth from the left, white spine with blue letters."

He followed your instructions, but playfully rolled his eyes at the title. "'Normal People'? Is this supposed to mean something?"

"It's not a jab at you, it's just a pretty good character study that reads fairly easily." You sounded a little defensive, so he lifted his hands up in mock surrender before collapsing back on the sofa and curling up. He didn’t miss the opportunity to steal one of your blankets then, laughing at the death glare you sent him.

You waited for him to settle before scooting yourself and the blanket nest over, resting under his left arm. A satisfied sigh left you at the sensation of immense warmth and comfort you found and let him know you don’t plan to move away anytime soon.

Not that he really minded.

“Who has to cook?” He asked you around midday, both of you already deeply invested in your reading.

You hummed indecisively. “I'll rock-paper-scissors you for it?”

Oscar agreed, and you both cupped your fists in your left hands.

"Best of three," he added after losing the first round. You're unsurprised he lost overall - he always chose scissors first.

“Best of five?” He suggested.

“Get to it, pastry boy. Chop chop.”

He sighed dramatically, like the weight of the world sat upon his shoulders, and stood up suddenly, leaving you to fall into a fit of giggles - now in a fully lying position.

Eventually, you poured yourself a drink from the fridge and sat yourself all pretty on the kitchen island. He hummed along to some song from his Spotify, and you took a moment to really admire him. Even in a hoodie and sweatpants, his hair still fell in that graceful swoop across his forehead; the way you can see his forearms flex with how he rolled up his sleeves made your thoughts race.

You did also catch yourself staring at his ass. It was unavoidable.

“They should call you Oscar Pi-ass-tri, goddamn.”

He glanced at you over his shoulder and cocked his hip with a sly smile. “Did you put any alcohol in there, baby?”

“You know I'm just naturally like this.”

“I do.” 

"You know," you took a sip after an extended silence, "the sluttiest thing a man can do is know how to cook delicious meals."

He was quiet for a moment, stirring a pot on the stove, before he shrugged with a small smile tugging upwards at the corners of his lips. "'Guess I'm a filthy whore of a man then."

You both paused, again, and he looked up at you from the pasta sauce he was making. You could have heard a pin drop, then.

In the moment after, you were both roaring with laughter - he was almost on his knees on the floor while your knuckles were white with how hard you were gripping the countertop not to fall off.

You barely wheezed out, "That's your new name in my phone," before Oscar was practically folded over again and you were struggling to catch your breath.

The pasta ended up tasting divine, and you were both full before you knew it. The couch welcomed you back after lunch, the TV just on as background noise to avoid the afternoon drowsiness.

"You were right, you know," he said while marking his place - over your dead body would you let him dog-ear the page - "it is a good character study. I wish they'd just, well, you know. Talk about their problems."

"It's a little frustrating, yeah,” you mumbled. He was so indescribably warm and comfortable and you really couldn’t make yourself move to look at him from where you were still lying under his arm and several blankets. A certain comfort settled deep into your bones, and you felt as heavy as lead. "It ends well, I promise."

"It better." He grumbled, and you responded with a huffy giggle.

While he had a late lie-in, you had been up for a while already by that point. After a few too-long moments of silence, he lifted his elbow and noticed you dozed off completely. Your weight was comfortable on him, and the story was interesting, so he put yours away on the coffee table and decided he could waste the afternoon just like this.

Ultimately, you stirred a couple of times throughout the few hours you were out - never truly waking up, except to pull yourself closer to him. He was more than halfway through the little paperback you assigned him and, surprisingly, he was actually enjoying himself. Maybe it was just because he got to participate in a hobby you like as well. Or maybe he enjoyed the closeness and intimacy of getting to read your little pencil notes in the margins; enjoyed the soothing rhythm of your chest rising and falling; enjoyed the small pleasures of ‘normal people’ things.

It was such a perfect moment that, for an instant, he felt like he could spend every single one of the rest of his days like this.

Note: I'm not as happy with this as I was with the Max fic (and I'm upset with myself for not posting it when I said I would?? alas we live) but Oscar is one of my favorite drivers and I hope I did him justice lol

Liked this? Check out my masterlist!

[l0veu-somuch]

nct dream as boy/girl dads ... 👼🏻⭐️

mark who still maintains his insane working hours and practicing late into the night even when he has his two favorite girls waiting back home (and it makes him feel terrible). he comes home when it's way past your daughter's bedtime and you're always still waiting for him even when it's three am in the morning. when the day breaks his daughter thinks she's being very quiet but she's quite clumsy as she steps all over his legs while she climbs onto the bed to wake him up. he blows raspberries onto the baby's cheeks as he trudges into the kitchen, pressing a sweet kiss to your shoulder as a thank you for the pancakes.

renjun who simply cannot contain his excitement when his daughter's painting is selected for an award in the school art competition. he brags about her drawings all the time to his parents, his friends, the elderly woman who bags his groceries. he says she got it from him. it's quite right. he cheers the loudest when her name is called, even blinks some pesky tears away (something you make sure to make fun of when you're in the car later on) when his sweet girl comes up on stage to accept her certificate and take a picture, in the dress she picked out with his help because it's a very special day.

if you ever asked jeno what he kept in his bag then you would (or would not) be surprised at the endless amount of candy and sugary treats he pulls out of it that he keeps for both himself and your daughter. it's clear where she got her sweet tooth from. usagi transforms into sailor moon on the television screen, your daughter astrode on his lap, each of them holding a pink spoon and taking turns scooping bites of cookies 'n cream and macademia into their mouths. you collapse onto the sofa with an exaggerated sigh once you finish dishes duty, your head falling into the unoccupied crook of jeno's neck. your daughter swings a spoonful of ice cream towards your mouth, calling it a reward for working hard "because daddy always does it" and you accept with a giggle.

donghyuck drums his fingers on the steering wheel to the soundtrack of moana, occasionally peeking to the back to check on his sleeping girl tucked into the car seat. he keeps a hand nestled into her soft locks as he steers her towards where you said you'd be waiting at the department store, making a very important decision on whether you should get the white or sage green kitten heels for your cousin's wedding in jeju next month. your daughter then pops on a pair of oversized celine sunglasses, and it's too funny and adorable that the salesgirl was giving the three of you the stink eye for making such a ruckus in the store. he pays for it anyways, because he'll probably steal it for himself for when he has to be at the airport at early hours to leave for an overseas schedule or concert.

jaemin tries his best, really. he just can't help it when he sees luke sitting by his son as he draws on the coffee table. you can't expect him to bake the chocolate chip cookies, watch for stains on the oak from your son's oil pastels and feed all three cats at once. he doesn't know how you do it. luckily the cookies don't burn in the oven, he puts down parchment so the oak table is safe, and all cats are soothed by your son's magic touch and gentle pressing hand. when you notice a speck of oil pastel in their furs later on you only sigh and make a call to the salon to get them a bath, noticing their claws have been getting too long to the point they can mar your precious boys' skin.

you raise a hand to shield your eyes from the blaring sunlight, the piercing rays making chenle and your son look like mere sillhouettes as they zip around the court, the boinking sound of the basketball echoing in the park that's not too crowded for a friday morning. you can tell he's being much more gentle and a lot slower than he usually does for your son, fixing his stances and the grip of his fingers on the ball as he demonstrates a three pointer. your son joyfully claps everytime he shoots, and he ruffles his hair as a thank you. he calls out to you, demanding his congratulations kiss, but there is no way you're even going to come close to two very sweaty boys under the sweltering august heat.

your son actually prefers jisung to read him the bedtime stories he keeps in his shelf. he tucks him into the crook of his arm, whispering gently of the boy who discovers a treasure box in the forest and goes on an adventure with his pet hamster. his voice is too low to catch over the running of the sink as you remove your makeup, secretly wishing your son would fall asleep faster so that you can brush your teeth together. you watch from the doorway as he very carefully detaches himself from your son's side to slip the book back into its place on the bookshelf, tuck the sheets up to his chin, and place a gentle kiss to his forehead before he clicks the star shaped light off and his arm comes up to circle around your waist, pressing you against the wall to collect his kiss that tastes like peppermint toothpaste and your scent he can never get enough of.

[andrearose96]

✨ Help Me Femme Up My Apartment, But Keep It Chill ✨ please 🙈

Hey Tumblr Sissy’s Mommy’s and Daddy’s, This Indecisive bitch NEEDS YOUR HELP! 🏠💖

Here’s the tea: I’ve been living in my apartment for a while now, and it’s giving *boring* Like, plain, blah, nothing special vibes I’m SO ready for a makeover, but here’s the thing, I want to make it feel feminine and cozy but I can’t go full girly girl Think soft, chic, and understated, not *cotton candy explosion* 🙈🙈🙈

💞 Here’s the vibe I’m thinking (not strictly) 💞

🌸 Feminine, but subtle: Soft touches of blush, cream, sage, or mauve,nothing too frilly or over the top

🌸 Chic + cozy: A space that’s warm, inviting, and comfy, but still polished enough to feel like an adult apartment

🌸 Practical magic: I have guests sometimes, so I need cute things that are functional or easy to tuck away if needed

💡 Help me brainstorm!💡

I’d LOVE your ideas for decor, furniture, or little touches that can help me find that perfect balance. Here’s some inspo ✨🌈✨

✨ Throw pillows, blankets, and rugs:

I’m obsessed with soft, luxe textures maybe velvet, knit, or faux fur in muted tones. Something that screams “curl up here” but doesn’t overpower the space

✨ Functional storage, but make it cute:

Decorative baskets, storage ottomans, or sleek shelves with brass or gold details. Pretty *and* practical

✨ Art and wall decor:

Minimalist prints, abstract art, or line drawings. I’m thinking feminine energy without being super girly, like soft botanicals or muted tones

✨ Soft, glowy lighting:

Fairy lights, warm table lamps, or maybe even a statement light fixture with gold or soft finishes Lighting makes ALL the difference, right?

✨ Plants and accessories:

A mix of leafy greens and cute planters nothing wild, just simple and fresh. Maybe neutral pots or ones with subtle pastel details.

✨ Unique touches:

A chic accent chair, a vanity corner, or little things like trinket dishes, candles, or cozy books to make it feel personal

But here’s the thing: If you want to recommend super girly pieces, *please do*! I’d love to know what you’d suggest if I went all out. Whether it’s frilly curtains, a pink velvet sofa, or even a sparkly chandelier, I’m open to hearing it all. You never know 🤭 I might just fall in love with it and buy it anyway! 🙈🙈🙈

🌷 So leave your ideas in the notes and vote on ones you like✨ also Tag your Pinterest girlies, decor baddies, and anyone who knows how to balance pretty + practical! 🌷

I’ll post updates as the transformation happens, so pleas help me Let’s make this boring boy space into a cozy, feminine dream! 💕

Love you all!! 💖💖💖

Andrea Rose 🌹

[dellalyra]

you putting “megumi needs his mom rn” in the cw makes me wonder how he and the family reacted to yuuji dying after the detention center mission (and also what was the reaction to him coming back since i’m assuming gojo told reader before they revealed it to everyone else)

Family Formations - Part Eleven

Summary: Deja vu visits you when your son loses his best friend.

Warning: swearing, angst, acc kinda soft too, mourning, mentions of blood and vomiting, canon typical violence, MDNI

A/N: I had already started this fic when this request came through so loving the telepathy going on here. Also. This is sad. I’m sorry. I’ll make it worth it dw dw.

Recommended Listening:

Daylight - David Kushner

No Surprises - Radiohead

Ghost of You - 5 Seconds of Summer

Sparks - Coldplay

Your doorbell chimed, glancing at the clock hanging above the fireplace from you’d spot on the sofa, 8 pm? Satoru wasn’t due home until 9 pm plus - he just warped inside your home. Did he order your flowers again? You check the baby monitor and see your 4-month-old is still sound asleep in his crib.

Walking up to the door, you sensed a very familiar cursed energy. Megumi? What’s he doing here, it’s Wednesday.

You could hear the rain and thunder pouring and hitting your windows in waves.

You open the door, and you see nothing.

A whimper emanates from beside you, and on the ground – slumped against the doorway is your eldest boy.

You fall on your knees beside him.

“Megumi! Baby, what’s going on? You’re going to catch a cold.” You brush his hair out of his face, and you are stricken with the realisation that he is crying. His angular face is so devoid of any emotion, but the tears scream otherwise. You could count the number of times you’ve seen him cry in 10 years on one hand and you hadn’t been prepared for this tonight.

“Jesus, baby what’s going on?” You try to heave him up from the ground and he’s as limp as a rag doll as you try to guide him inside the door. The hallway is as far as you can manage his weight before you give in and shut the door to the outside world. He’s now just leaned against your sage green wall, if he wasn’t breathing, you’d think he was comatose.

Only now do you realise he’s bleeding. His lip is busted, and his eyebrow is too. But what type of curse would elicit this reaction?

“Megumi? Honey? Talk to me - what’s happened?” You kneel beside him, one hand on his shoulder, the other on the top of his head.

Empty eyes, now a dull blue, look up at you through lashes soaked with rain and tears.

“He’s dead.” The tiniest voice, again, void of emotions.

Satoru? No – you had been on the phone with him 20 minutes ago.

“He killed him.” His eyes are facing you – but they’re looking straight through you.

“Who’s dead, Megumi?” You probe – anxiety gripping your stomach like a vice.

“Sukuna – ripped his heart out. In front of me. Just ripped it out. His heart. He’s dead.” The words are barely intelligible in the mumbles that come from his out and you’re still as confused, Sukuna? How could- oh my god Yuuji is dead.

Yuuji Itadori.

Dead.

“Oh my god – fuck. Megumi, my sweet boy.” At this point, he turned to you.

He looked into your eyes.

He turned his head and vomited on the floor beside him.

You pull him into you, tears flooding your face as you think about that sweet, sweet boy – a soul too good for this world so brutally ripped out of it.

You wipe his mouth on your sweater sleeve and once again haul him up into your grasp he almost falls but you pull on every muscle fibre you had – you needed to get him dry and cleaned up.

A memory played in your mind, a sense of déjà vu – Satoru vomiting and sobbing and you shaking with tears curled up together – the loss of another best friend. The fates were cruel masters to make you relive this scene again.

Once he was up the stairs you lay him on his bed. Where he just sat on the edge, legs still on the ground and stared at his shoes. He went to vomit again, and this time you caught it with a bucket you’d retrieved from the closet.

“I need to get a cloth. I’ll be right back.” He didn’t acknowledge this. You just needed a moment to gather yourself before you went back in - you’d be no good to him if you continue to try to help in the state you're in, a mess of shock and grief and anger. White hot anger.

You shut the en suite door of his room behind you, and you rush to the toilet and heave up all of your remaining food at the mental image of that darling boy laying cold and dead and gutted on the ground.

You give yourself a moment – your son and you breathe so that you can deal with everything later – wait, does Satoru know?

Grabbing a cloth – you go into the room, laying the cloth down for a moment, you go into your and Satoru’s room and grab one of his sweatshirts. In Megumi’s room, you pull sweatpants from his wardrobe and look at your son. He’s dripping rainwater onto the carpet and there’s blood from his injuries mingling, tinging it pink.

You think some of the puddles might be tears, his or your own, you don’t know.

You stand in front of him, remembering the times when you’d do this to help him into his frog pyjamas - he was only 6 back then – 16 now and 5ft 9 – almost a whole foot taller than you. You lift his arms and unzip his jacket – his T-shirt underneath is soaked through too. You peel them both from him and check for cuts on his torso – bruises, old and fresh – but no blood.

You pull Satoru’s sweatshirt over his head, and he doesn’t even seem to notice that you’re moving him. He’s just limp in your arms, and you swear to anyone who’s listening to if you could take that pain and shoulder, it yourself then you would.

You peel his slacks down, pulling his sweatpants (a Christmas present from your brother) onto his lanky legs you tuck his hair behind his ears and dry it with a cloth. You then dab at his bleeding wounds, they’re clotting now, and the bleeding is stopping.

You throw the cloth away to the far side of the room.

He’s seen enough blood for today.

Tears are flowing freely from you both as you sit beside him on the edge of the bed.

Your proximity must trigger him back to this plane of existence and he looks at you.

“I couldn’t save him.”

“I know sweet boy, but it’s not your fault. You did everything you could.”

“It was a special grade – he, the curse had a finger. Our mission didn’t say any of that.”

“A special grade? Was Satoru there?” He couldn’t have been, he was in Osaka today.

“No. Just me and Kugisaki and Itadori.” His voice quavers.

You knew exactly what happened. It was clear from even the bare minimum you had heard.

But – now was not the time. Willing yourself to push the thoughts aside. Megumi doesn’t need that right now.

“You did everything you could, ‘Gumi. There was nothing you could have done.”

This was his kryptonite. A heavy, choked sob broke through the air and his body collapsed onto you.

“His heart – he ripped it out. He was right there and he just – momma, he’s dead. I couldn’t save him, Momma.” You broke down, sobbing yourself, cradling this boy – this poor broken boy, into your chest as you hugged him so tight you could feel every shake of his body in your own. You carefully moved. you both so you could sit against his headboard with his sobbing head laid on your stomach.

You are so grateful that Akio is a heavy-sleeping baby because you need to focus on your oldest son now. He needed you, and you were his to protect him, 100%.

You stroke his hair and whisper placating nothing into his ear. Nothing will fix this. Nothing will make it easier or make it feel better. You just need to be here; you just need to hold him now. You can tell him until the cows come home that he did all he could, he couldn’t have stopped Sukuna, that it was not his fault – but all these worlds will refuse to sink in until he’s ready to hear them. Yet, you tell him anyway. Over and over again.

You’ve no idea how much time passes. Your tears mingle with the lingering water on the side of his head as you cry with him but eventually, the sobs turn into heavy breaths, and you realise he’s passed out. Sheer exhaustion has taken his body hostage and for a second, you’re put at peace knowing at least right now – his mind will be quiet.

You slip your phone from your pocket, without moving or disturbing the boy on your lap.

‘Please call me.’ A message from Satoru.

You ring him.

The phone barely dials once before you hear his voice – hoarse.

“Y/N. I –”

“I know ‘Toru. Megumi came home.”

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t there.” He sounds so broken.

“You have no reason to be sorry baby, we both know how this managed to come to pass.” You hated that he always still felt the weight of the whole world on his shoulders.

“I’ll kill them all.” He says, and you know he’s serious.

“You could, but you won’t. Maybe 10 years ago – maybe then we’d have done it together. But not now, not anymore.” You reply, voice still thick with tears.

There’s silence.

“Where are you, ‘Toru?”

“The morgue.”

“Shoko?”

“On her way in.”

“I can’t leave the boys.”

“I’ll be home soon.”

“I love you.”

“I love you.”

He hangs up the phone. Nothing more needs to be said. These feelings are sadly all too familiar to you both. You realise Shoko will have to do the autopsy.

She delivered Akio 4 months ago. Now she’d be cutting up the corpse of the boy who waited outside of the labour ward for 16 hours.

You lean your head back – closing your eyes. Flashes of a pink head tossing back in laughter and strong arms hugging you in thanks, of meatballs served to you as you nurse your newborn and the Spider-Man lamp being plugged in making you smile at the giddy teenager. The faces change, now they’re old and wrinkled and whisper words with serpentine tongues laced with deceit and heartlessness in their actions. They knew what they were doing. Satoru wasn’t in Osaka for no reason. They knew.

They all fucking knew.

They sent him to his death, knowingly and intentionally. They sent three children into a trap all because they are scared. Cowards who hide behind words of ‘the good of society’ and the guise of ‘the greater good’. Satoru and you had screamed and pushed and threatened to stay the execution, but they found a loophole anyway.

They risked Megumi and Nobara – did they think you wouldn’t piece together the big picture? Did they think that you wouldn’t realise?

You don’t know how long you sat there but your phone buzzed again.

📲Satoruuuuu is Calling… ✅⛔️

You pick up.

“He’s alive.”

“What?”

“He’s alive. Yuuji’s alive. Sukuna woke him up…” There are so many tones in his voice and so many thoughts in your head you have to close your eyes.

“Are you sure?”

“Well - he’s talking and walking so unless The Last of Us was accurate then…” he attempts a joke – relief clear in his voice.

You softly lift the head from your lap, and place it on the navy pillow. He doesn’t stir.

You walk out into your room, sitting on the balcony – the air was what you needed.

“I don’t know what to say.” That is all you can manage.

The torrent of emotions your mind went through was making you so dizzy you sat on the wooden chair looking at the sky.

“He’s not safe here, they’re going to come for him.” Satoru’s voice comes, quiet through the phone.

“What will we do?” You say.

“He needs time, he needs to train and learn to manipulate and use his cursed energy. If he can protect himself…” Satoru begins.

“We need to hide him. He can’t stay at school or come here.” Your sorcerer’s brain was switched on now.

“I can’t bring him to the Gojo estate either, the elders the family visit too much.” He speaks.

Lightbulb.

“They visit your family… but they’d never think to visit mine. Satoru, bring him to my mom’s. I’ll call her, you can train him there every day, and if we’re being watched it’s not suspicious to visit our own family. She’ll take care of him.” You say, you knew that your family would protect this boy with their lives, he was family to Megumi, family to you.

“Y/N… we can’t tell anyone. The only people who know are me, you, Shoko and Ijichi.” He says, and your heart stops.

You’ll have to lie to Megumi.

“Fuck. It’s too dangerous for him to know – if they catch wind of this, and they find out he knows…” you say.

“He’ll be branded a traitor. Who knows what they’d do for information.”

“He’s going to hate us.”

“He’ll understand. He’s a smart kid.”

“Come home to me, to us – ‘toru. Bring him to my parents and then please come home.” You whisper to him.

He agrees and tells you he loves you.

The weeks fly by as you feel yourself crumbling from the weight of the sadness spilling from your son, Kugisaki isn’t much better and Satoru is still reeling from the elder’s deceit. You stormed to the council meeting the following day and threatened to burn the place to the ground if they so much as considered harming a hair on the head of the other kids.

“Unfortunate circumstances occur on missions. Nobody knows the outcome of these situations.” They fought.

“Oh – you knew the outcome of this one. You knew full well. All of you, every single one of you knew and you allowed it. In legal terms, that’s murder. You’re all sociopaths and whatever awaits you in the next world, I hope it hurts even a fraction of the pain you’ve all caused. Endanger my family again, and I’ll deal with you all personally – never mind Satoru.”

The training was going well – you had gone to your mother’s house two days after his resurrection, after the water cooled and you were sure you weren’t being surveilled.

You had run to Yuuji, running your eyes and hands over every bit of him, checking for wounds and crying into his shoulder. He had died, and somehow you were being comforted by him.

Satoru and you explained the situation, taking turns to train with him. They came up with a ridiculous idea of Yuuji playing Jack in the Box at the exchange event all you could do was allow it.

Back home – you explained to Megumi that the mission had been a nefarious plot concocted by the elders and higher ups to get rid of Yuuji, since you and your husband kept getting in the way – they took the opportunity of your maternity leave to send Gojo to Osaka and place the kids in the path of a Special Grade Curse. You hoped being armed with this information would help him understand why you and Satoru had lied to him, and allowed him to grieve. It hurt you, but his safety was paramount.

When the day came and Yuuji was released, you stood beside Megumi as he and Nobara watched him return from the dead. Jaws hanging open, they couldn’t tear their eyes from their friend.

Reunions and rejoicing complete, you and Satoru pulled Megumi by the sleeve away from the scene, into your classroom.

When the door shut, you began to sob.

“‘Gumi, I’m so sorry. We didn’t have any choice but to keep it a secret. It –” Satoru wraps you into his chest.

“We had to keep it secret, because they would have killed anyone involved if they found out, kiddo. We had to keep you safe.” He says hand on Megumi’s shoulder and a crying wife clinging to him.

“It’s okay.” Megumi shrugs.

You freeze, you thought he’d never forgive you.

“What?” You and Satoru say in unison.

“I get why you did it. Thank you, guys, – for helping him, and uh – for protecting us all.” He says and God this boy will never fail to amaze you. His maturity was something you and Satoru could only have dreamed of at his age and even rarer was hearing such genuine praise from him – he was softer with you, but this was directed to you both.

Wordlessly, you and Satoru wrapped him in your arms and he begrudgingly and awkwardly reciprocated the affection.

Over his head, you looked at your husband. His crystalline eyes filled with relief and love for you and your patchwork family, and you pressed a soft kiss to his lips – a silent thank you for everything you do. The road was never easy, but God was it worth it.

TAGLIST: @vesta-ro @lilithlunas @mialexandruh @sassy-cat-in-town @madam-ri @cjm-cookiethief

[moonsapprentice]

⋆ ✶ ✷ 𝔉𝔩𝔲𝔣𝔣𝔟𝔞𝔩𝔩 ✷ ✶ ⋆

Gender neutral reader and Tord find a kitten

All day, you’ve been in bed. It’s very cloudy, the sound of rain pattering on your roof and windows filling your ears. The bed seems so warm compared to the intense storm happening outside. You yawn, stretching out your tired bones. With a sigh you stand up, taking your blanket with you as it’s way too cold to go without it.

Your socked feet walk across the hard wooded floors, which occasionally creak under your weight. Humming quietly, your fingers pry open the fridge for about the twelfth time that day.

“…I need to go shopping.”

You sigh, taking milk out and pouring it into a mug. You put it into the microwave with a soft clatter and set the time for thirty seconds. You look at the aggressive rain storm happening out side. Luckily, it isn’t bad enough to knock out your power. But it’s pretty damn close.

The trees are swaying, the leaves attacked by the water coming too fast at them. The house itself is making loud whoosh noises from the wind hitting it. But all that noise isn’t drowning out an unmistakable noise…Meowing. A high pitched, shrill meow.

Quirking your eyebrow, you lean over your sink to look out the window above it. Scanning your backyard you see nothing. But then it comes again. And again.

“…what the hell..?”

You mutter under your breath. A strong pair of arms wrap around your waist

“What is it?”

Your boyfriend, Tord, says behind you with that pretty accent of his. You turn around, and as you open your mouth to speak the meow sounds out once more. His eyebrows raise and his smug smile gets wiped off his face. He lets go of your waist to look out the window.

Tord’s eyes scan your backyard with a catlike ability. But like you, he doesn’t see anything. He keeps looking through.

“There has to be a cat out there. There’s no way in hell that wasn’t a kitten.”

Tord says, gripping the windowsill. You place a hand on his shoulder

“I’ll go check”

You smile, but he immediately shakes his head. He takes your hand and kisses it

“No love, I will. I don’t want you to get soaked”

Tord smiles and before you can protest he pecks your lips lightly, walking out after. You sigh and shake your head, muttering about ‘that man’. You take your warm milk and sip on it.

Sitting on the sofa, which is one of his inventions, you wait for him to return. Through one of your living room windows, you can see him looking through every possible hiding place a cat could be in.

The unmistakable sound of water hitting your floor tells you that your boyfriend is back inside. You stand up and see him with drenched hair, which tugs a frown on your lips. Although, for some reason, he has a grin

“Why didn’t you put your hood up? You could catch a sickness, or worse, hypoth-“

Then there’s a loud meow. But this time, it’s from his arms. He’s cradling a tiny orange kitten in his arms. You let out a gasp and run over to his side.

“No way! There was actually a cat!”

You get a grin that matches his. The kitten is soaked and it’s eyes are closed. Judging by it’s size, it must be at least a few months old. You take the kitty from Tord’s arms and hold it in your warm arms.

“Go change.”

He laughs.

“Bossy.”

You’re too busy to retort back. A parental feeling washes over your body. You need to protect this baby. It’s tiny eyes open, they’re a gorgeous sage green with small speckles of a lighter color. Though it doesn’t seem to register anything, as it’s eyes close again.

“Oh, honey…hello..”

You murmur in a baby-like voice while scratching behind it’s ear. You take it to the kitchen and start drying it with a hand towel, it seems too sleepy to fight back or even purr. After that you sit on the sofa and hold it close to your chest so it’s nice and warm. The couch dips beside you and a warm arm wraps around your shoulder. Your head instinctively rests on Tord’s shoulder.

He chuckles while scratching behind the cats ear, the fur being surprisingly soft for a kitten who’s been outside for who knows how long. You smile a little more. The kitten seems to be in a state of being half-asleep, it opens its eyes and does a tiny jump when it sees the both of you so close to it. The cat wriggles out of your grasp and jumps down off the couch, backing away with a tiny hiss.

You and Tord’s eyebrows raise, you crawl on the floor and he kneels beside you.

“Hey, hey…shh..it’s okay…”

You whisper, trying hard to not startle the cat again. Tord stays silent, staring at it. He moves a little closer, still kneeling on one knee. With a flourish he extends his finger.

“det er greit lille pus, jeg vil ikke slåss...”

(it's okay little kitty, i don't want to fight...)

Tord mutters in a smooth voice, moving his finger a little closer. The kitten hisses again, but it’s so small it’s really not that scary. He puts his finger directly infront of the cats mouth, which causes it to bite him. Tord doesn’t even flinch though, staring at him. Theres an air of kinship between him and the small kitten. Slowly, the cat lets go of his pointer.

The corner of Tord’s mouth tilt up. He gently scratches under the kittens chin, which causes it to relax a little and step closer.

“…animal whisperer”

You murmur jokingly, although your words ring a bit of truth. Tord snickers and picks the tiny furball up with one hand, bringing it to his chest. You lean against him and gaze at the kitty. Gingerly you reach your hand out and pat the top of its head, which causes it to purr and tilt its head into you.

“It likes you too babe..”

Tord murmurs, looking at you with a soft smile. You chuckle and lean your head against his. You stay there for a few minutes, breathing eachother in while the sound of rain and purring mix together with your hearts.

Eventually, Tord pulls you down on the sofa with a small hum. The kitten rests between his chest and yours. His arms are around you and yours are around him, your bodies warming both eachother and the bundle of joy sleeping between you. His forehead presses more firmly against your head and he kisses your lips.

“…I love you.”

Hope you enjoyed this little one shot! If you sent me in a request I promise I am working on it and it’ll be out soon, I just felt a burst of inspiration and didn’t wanna waste it.

This isn’t proofread btw lol, if there’s a spelling error or grammar mistake please tell me!

- xoxo, Artemis

[sophie-hatter-jenkins]

Final Chapter - The Loyal Companion - Now Complete!

Lily Evans endures a series of disastrous first dates at her new favourite bar, The Loyal Companion. Still, at least the whiskey is good. And the bartender is cute. Not her type though. Nope, definitely not.

Chapter 6 - Nothing

An unexpected pep-talk and a new message on her dating app lead Lily back to The Loyal Companion once more. But is all as it seems?

Read it on AO3: From the Beginning // Latest Chapter

Here we are! The final chapter!

Thanks so much to everyone who has come along for the ride, but most especially @ginnyw-potter, who has been my beta reader, my chief cheerleader and this story's biggest champion since the beginning. Thank you for everything!

The Loyal Companion was my first foray into writing Jily, and I was both stunned and thrilled when it was recently nominated for a 2024 Jily Award, in the AU Long category. What an honour! It's been an absolute joy to become part of this wonderful, welcoming community.

Anyway - I've had a blast writing The Loyal Companion, I hope you've enjoyed reading it just as much. 

Snippet below the cut.

At about half past seven on Tuesday evening, Lily answered the door to find Sirius Black, of all people, standing in the corridor, carrying a bouquet of pale pink roses. 

Just like every other time she’d seen him, he was dressed entirely in black, though this ensemble was much smarter than any that Lily had seen him wear before. Gone were the ripped jeans and band t-shirts; in their place were polished boots, dress trousers, an open necked shirt and an impeccably cut wool coat. He honestly looked like he’d stepped out of the pages of a high-end lifestyle magazine.

“What the hell are you doing here?” she blurted, gaping at him. 

Sirius’s lips twitched in amusement. “I’m fine, Lily, thanks for asking,” he told her. “How are you?”

Wincing at her own poor manners, Lily stood to the side and beckoned him into the hall. “I’m fine. Sorry. I was just surprised to see you.”

“No worries,” he shrugged. “I’m here to pick up Marlene. Is she ready to go?”

So that explained the sharp outfit and the flowers. “Right. She’s still in the shower, I’m afraid. What time did she say to be here?”

Sirius checked his watch. “Seven thirty.”

Lily nodded sagely. “Ah. In that case I have some advice for you: The first rule of Marlene is that you should always add thirty minutes onto any time she gives you. Come and sit down while you wait for her.”

She led him down the hall and into the living room. Sirius shrugged out of his coat and flopped down onto the green velvet sofa, looking immediately at home.

“Nice,” he commented, looking around. “Very you.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Lily told him, smiling. “But thanks—I really like it. I was actually about to put the kettle on. Can I get you anything to drink?”

He grinned. “That’s usually my line. But yeah, tea would be nice.”

“How do you take it?”

“Black with four sugars, please.” Lily’s horror must have registered on her face, because he sighed deeply. “Yes, you heard me right, and yes, I have been told on more than one occasion that it indicates deep-seated psychological issues, but frankly, that will be no surprise to anyone who’s ever met my mother.”

Lily raised her eyebrows. “Sounds like she’d get on well with my sister.”

His lip curled sardonically. “In which case you have my most sincere sympathies.”

Continue reading on AO3

[mirikitakato]

[Translation] 2024 Shylock Birthday SSR Card: Even The Sound Is Captivating

Happy Birthday, Shylock! I was going out the whole day and just have enough time to translate this for him at night so that I could release it on Oct 14.

The Birthday trait is crazy though.

Card Story: With the Orgel's Melody - Respite to Shylock

One day, as Shylock's birthday approaches, I’m searching for him while holding a small box borrowed from Rustica, called "Orgel of Respite".

Akira: (A magical tool that connects to a mysterious space that can heal wizards... I want to celebrate Shylock's birthday with this.)

Murr: Sage! What’cha looking for?

Akira: …..Wah! Murr! Right, actually...

Murr: I see! Since you're holding that box, you must be looking for Shylock. I'll take you there!

[Scene changes to Shylock’s room]

Murr: I've brought the Sage!

Shylock: Oh mine...Welcome, both of you. Please knock, Murr. You never know what I might look like behind this door.

Although he says that, Shylock looks as elegant and refined as always. He smiles gently at me.

Shylock: Good afternoon, Sage. Welcome to my room.

Akira: Good afternoon, Shylock. I'm sorry to drop by suddenly.

Shylock: Not at all. I'm delighted that you came to see me.

Murr: Shylock~ Make that cocktail for me again! The one with the crescent moon-shaped lemon floating in pale blue liquor!

Murr flops onto the couch and says so. Holding a chess piece, he is spending his time as freely as if it’s his own room.

Shylock: Really now... Look at you, I can't believe you were just scolded.

Akira: Did something happen?

Shylock: He crossed paths with Oz this morning and upset him.

Akira: I-is everything alright? (Last time they met was a huge problem!!)

Shylock: Fortunately, I happened to pass by.

Murr: He said, "I'll scold him," and helped me!

Akira: That's good then...

Shylock: Well, I did scold him, but...I don't think he was listening. Hehe, he's quite a handful to train.

Akira: (As expected of Shylock. Instead of being discouraged, he's excited.) (He really finds joy in any situation, I can feel his open-mindedness…)

Shylock: By the way, is there something you want from me?

Akira: Ah, yes. It's about Shylock's birthday.

Murr: They said they’d take you to Orgel!

Shylock: Ah. A magical tool that Rustica received from a fan, right? I've heard from everyone that they received a wonderful respite from the Sage.

Akira: I'd like to invite Shylock too, is that alright?

Shylock: It’s my pleasure. I'm looking forward to a peaceful time with you.

Episode 2

A Few Days Later

As I pass by Shylock's bar...

Akira: (Huh? It's unusually quiet today. Usually, I always hear someone talking...)

Peeking inside, I see Shylock sitting on a sofa, elegantly tilting a wine glass.

Shylock: Oh, Sage. Welcome.

Akira: Good evening, Shylock. Did you already close the bar tonight?

Shylock: No. Last night, there were quite a few people causing a bit of a ruckus, so I banned them from entering for today. So, tonight is probably just you, Sage. Please, come in.

Shylock takes my hand and guides me to a seat at the counter. Then, he goes behind the counter.

Akira: I'm sorry if I disturbed you.

Shylock: I was just thinking up a new non-alcoholic cocktail, so don't worry about it.

Akira: Wow, a new menu item for the bar?

Shylock: I want to increase the menu options for those who don't drink alcohol. Would you like to try it?

Akira: Yes, of course!

Shylock hands me a cocktail that looks like an aurora. As I swirl the glass, it shifts from red to yellow, green to blue, then purple.

Akira: Amazing... It's so sparkly and beautiful... I’ll take a sip.

The moment I put it in my mouth, a refreshing citrus flavor spreads. It has a refreshing taste like a cool breeze, and I can’t help but smile joyfully.

Akira: It's so delicious!

Shylock: Hehe...I can feel your joy from your face, more than what words can express. If you were to name this cocktail, what do you think would suit it?

Akira: A name?

Shylock: Yes. If you don’t mind, I'd like the first person to try it, the Sage, to name it.

Akira: Eh, me? It's a very wonderful cocktail, but I might not be able to think of a good name…

Shylock: You can name it however you like. But if it's too much trouble, I won't force you.

His voice is so gentle, and his narrowed eyes seem to sweetly say, "Do as you please."

Akira: ……………………Okay. Then, could I have a little bit of time?

Shylock: As much as you like. The waiting time is also a joyful one.

Akira: (Shylock always gently supports my heart...) (Even when I'm feeling uncertain or insecure, my mind can be at ease thanks to him...) (I think I've decided on my wish for him at Orgel.)

Imagining that moment, I look forward to Shylock's birthday even more.

Episode 3

A few days later, on the day of Shylock's birthday...

Akira: Wow, you look great! That cool outfit suits you so well, Shylock.

Shylock: Thank you. Chloe worked really hard on it. It makes my good points shine even brighter, doesn't it?

Akira: Yes! Definitely!

Placing a small box on the table, I close my eyes. To guide Shylock to a magical space, I recall his charms...Then whisper in my heart like a prayer.

Akira: (With his open-mindedness that allows him to enjoy any situation, and his ability to be there for others, may Shylock find perfect peace...)

The lid of the small box opens with a sound. A doll resembling Shylock begins to dance around. Music can be heard from somewhere, and the surroundings are filled with soft light. When I come to my senses, a healing space has spread out, filled with elegant music like a butterfly flapping its wings, both graceful and soothing.

Shylock: It's a beautiful melody. Gentle, refined, and soothing to the heart.

Akira: It's a perfect song for Shylock. I can clearly see that this’s indeed your Orgel.

Shylock: Oh, hearing that makes me happy. Thank you.

Without hesitation, I guide Shylock to a place that has an elegant sofa.

Akira: Today, I want Shylock to relax completely. I'd be happy if you could relax.

As I say that, I neatly arrange the items from the basket I have carried on the table.

Shylock: This is...

Akira: Normally, alcohol would be best, but I think you may have your own preference in that regard... So I prepared some snacks instead.

Shylock: Hehe... You're so kind. You know my tastes well. Let's have a toast with a special fine wine that suits this occasion. Of course, I'll have the alcohol removed from yours.

Raising our glasses, we slowly enjoy our time here. His long fingers, which have the tips neatly manicured, pick up the snacks I prepared.

Shylock: It's delicious. The bitter cheese is to my taste.

Akira: I'm glad! Murr and Chloe told me that you've recently enjoyed eating cheese with nuts. Same with the other snacks. Everyone helped me think of things that Shylock would enjoy.

Shylock: Is that so? The Western wizards like to observe people. Seriously...they’ve truly been watching over me.

Looking carefully at the table, Shylock smiles with a look of happiness on his face. That smile reminds me of the one he has when he’s in the Magic Manor.

Akira: Um, Shylock. About the name of the cocktail you made the other day...

Shylock: You come up with something?

Akira: Yes. "Days at the Magic Manor"...How does that sound?

Shylock: "Days at the Magic Manor"...

Akira: One of my favorite daily routines in the Magic Manor is visiting Shylock's bar. I really enjoy seeing Shylock smiling while surrounded by other Sage’s wizards... I think the name would be very suitable for a cocktail that has the refreshing and clean feeling I get when talking to you.

Feeling a little embarrassed, I tell him everything, and Shylock returns a very soft smile.

Shylock: That's a wonderful name. I'll add "Days at the Magic Manor" to the menu right away.

Shylock snaps his fingers. Appearing with the light is the cocktail that had just been named.

Shylock: I want people who can't drink alcohol to feel free to come to the bar too. I have to tell everyone that there's a non-alcoholic cocktail that was named by the Sage.

Mischievously, he says so, and his wine-colored eyes curve into a smile. It’s the elegant, gentle, and loving smile I love.

Akira: Once again...Happy birthday, Shylock.

----oOo----

Card Episode: Enjoy this thoughtful and stylish gesture

Akira: Oh, Shylock. Are you having lunch now?

Shylock: Yes. I woke up a bit later than usual today, so I'm having a late lunch. Thank you very much for yesterday, Sage. I had a wonderful day.

Akira: It’s my line, the birthday party we had last night was really fun too.

Shylock: Yes. Rustica played the harpsichord for a birthday celebration, and Chloe even prepared party clothes for everyone...

Akira: I was surprised when Murr used magic on the barware and glasses to make them participate in the party.

Shylock: Hehe. It felt like I was being celebrated by the children I was looking after. A very thoughtful and stylish gesture. However, since I usually handle the barware carefully, I was a little worried that the glasses might get scratched every time they danced.

Note: the “children” mentioned here are the barware, not the Western wizards haha.

Akira: Ahaha. Murr's magic was so full of energy. In the end, we all had fun dancing like at a ball.

Shylock: Yes. I didn't want the fun to end. And as I was thinking that I didn't want the fun time to end, the sky began to lighten... I got into bed after the sun had already risen.

Akira: Oh, so that's why you woke up later than usual...?

Shylock: Hehe, that's right. You're the only one I've told that I had so much fun. It’s our little secret, Sage.

--- Home-screen voice line ---

"Time is vague for a wizard who has lived a long time. Ten years, a hundred years—they melt away in an instant. The days of my birth passed as fleetingly as a moment, but none of them can be dismissed. It is because of those days that I am who I am now, and that I can meet you like this."

--- Birthday Trait ---

Overnight: “To become the [me] that I could love” — he raises his lowered eyes, realizing something beyond the night he had changed his friend with his own hands.

Note: For the trait, the sentence in quotation marks uses watashi (I) when the rest of the trait uses kare (he). Originally, there are no quotation marks but I feel it will be very confusing to suddenly switch from I to he, so I twist the translation a little bit.

[allisluv]

COMING CLEAN.

Chapter Two — glitter pens and dart boards

finnick odair x fem!oc

wc: 5.7k

content warnings; finnick odair (that man makes me hyperventilate), unsolicited touching but nothing graphic i promise, oc is forced to sell her body, slight dissociation.

previous chapter — next chapter

"Stop messing with the headpiece!" Bloom chastised, her voice cutting through the crisp evening air as she swatted Dahlia's hand away from the golden flowers weaved through her hair. "It's essential to your outfit darling," she continued fussing. Even with eight-inch heels, she struggled to reach the hairpiece.

If you took the backhanded compliments, ridiculous stilettos and melodramatics out of the equation, Dahlia found Bloom to be quite pleasant. Sure, she was a diva and slightly self-obsessed but by Capitol's standards, she was a gem.

Not to mention that she was absolutely gorgeous. If a siren emerged from the sea, Bloom was precisely what Dahlia would expect to catch a glimpse of.

Porcelain skin that looked as though it would shatter with the smallest of touches. Flaming scarlet ringlets rippled down the length of her back and a sage green dress glided behind her as she skillfully moved about on the lawn. She was crafted by Aphrodite herself, she was sure of it.

"You both look extraordinary," Malaki slid his way into the conversation with ease. Silver gems and jewels adorned his suit and when he shifted his weight from foot to foot, he bore a striking resemblance to a disco ball. Glitter had been dragged down the bridge of his nose and across his eyelids.

Offering both women an arm each, they hooked their hands through the crook of his elbow. Under normal circumstances, Dahlia would have declined his offer, but being in the Capitol always unnerved her. Malaki was almost a comforting presence and right now, she would take that where she could get it.

Malaki worked his way through the crowds as if it was second nature. The presidents' parties had always been a hotspot for the richest and most influential Capitol citizens so, naturally, Dahlia had to be on her best behavior this evening.

Her escort guided her into a banquet hall, where the victors and guests alike would spend the majority of their evening socializing. As much as Dahlia hated to admit it, the place was breathtaking.

Elaborately dressed figures spun on the dance floor, and from the way a number of them staggered about and giggled, she could tell that glasses of alcohol had started being distributed. Chandeliers hung from the high ceiling and velvet sofas were scattered wherever there was an inch of free space.

"Come on," Malaki interrupted her train of thought, gently knocking his elbow into hers and leading them towards a group huddled on a sofa. "I've got some people that I need you to meet."

Upon their approach, the men and woman sprung to their feet, planting a kiss on Bloom's rosy cheeks and clapping Malaki on the back.

Dahlia could feel her skin crawling as one of the men leaned in and kissed her cheek, too. She did her best to dazzle him with a smile, tugging on the heavy gold hearts dangling from her ears as they made space on the sofa and gestured for her to sit.

Bloom, thankfully, beat her to it, tossing her ringlets over her shoulders and blinking her winged lashes at the dark-haired man beside her.

A hand slinked its way onto Dahlia's lower back and she fought down the survival impulse that told her to strike first. Memories of the Hunger Games flickered behind her eyelids but once she registered that it was only Malaki trying to provide an ounce of reassurance, the kill-or-be-killed instinct ebbed away.

She forced a smile onto her face and hoped it would make up for her fleeting lapse of sanity.

"Dahlia, my darling, I'd like you to meet some of the Capitol's latest celebrities," Malaki announced, every muscle in his face aching from keeping up his facade. "I don't think you've had the pleasure of meeting our president's current friends," he let go of his victor and pulled up two silk lounge chairs, collapsing into one while Dahlia lowered herself into the other. The sofa broke into quiet protests and he tutted. "Don't go all modest on me now!"

Dahlia met his eyes over the conversation and tried to silently ask what he was getting at. He simply gave a gentle, but terribly clear, nod of his head.

If she hadn't gotten to know him over the years, she may not have thought twice about it. But she did know him and she could read him like a book—— he was trying to boost her Capitol status.

She didn't dare ask why. Not here, with dozens of eyes on her, anyway. His judgement had never led her astray before and hopefully, it wasn't going to fail her now.

"What can I say, I'm a busy woman," she ran a hand through the dark waves of hair framing her face. "To be honest, I admire you all— attending these parties every night and still being able to look as fantastic as you do. I don't know how you manage it."

The two women immediately turned the compliment around, praising how beautiful her dress was, from the ivy working its way down her arms, to the golden fabric of her outfit. Dahlia did her best to return the sentiment, but the women seemed determined to put themselves down and she was not here to boost their egos.

She eventually stopped listening and allowed her escort to carry the conversation on his back. She could read the room well enough to know when to nod or laugh. No one seemed to notice that their words were going in one ear and out the other, anyway.

So long as they believed her act, what they said was merely an inconvenience. Malaki would debrief her in the morning if there was anything he thought was of significance (—she didn't have the best track record when it came to paying attention).

After half an hour of agonizing small talk, Dahlia was desperately scanning the room for an escape route. If she had to spend one more minute pretending to like these narcissists, she would rip her hair right out of her scalp.

Then, as if her guardian angels had sent it right from heaven, she spotted the food tables scattered around the outskirts of the banquet hall. Pulling herself onto her six-inch gold stilettos, she staggered towards her escort, interrupting him with a tap on the back. "I'm going to get food."

She left no room for arguing and Malaki knew better than to stop her. She would do what she wanted with or without his permission. He nodded, turning back to Sparrow, an older man with an olive green wig who kept laughing boisterously and spilling wine down his dress shirt.

She didn't bother excusing herself— she hadn't been too involved in the conversation to begin with, so she didn't think they would notice her slipping out of the vicinity. Still, if Bloom hadn't been locking lips with the dark-haired man, she would have definitely been reprimanded for her lack of manners.

As she passed the velvet sofa that the Capitol people were lounging on, Sparrow slapped her backside, his hand lingering near the slit in her dress. Every single bone in her body tensed, a piercing cold wave of pain shooting up the base of her spine.

The sofa erupted into roars of laughter, all except the dark-haired man and Bloom, who were... well, preoccupied to notice what was happening.

Forcing a tight-lipped smile, she bunched the flimsy material of her dress into her hands and pushed her feet towards the food tables.

No matter how tempting it was to snatch the wine glass out of his hand and shatter it over his head, the consequences would only come back on her siblings.

Don't get her wrong, it would be worth it for the satisfaction alone, but she had lost too much at the hands of President Snow. If it put River and Ivy in harm's way, it was a risk she wasn't willing to take.

Her chest heaved with heavy, blazing breaths; it felt as though she was trapped inside a burning building with no exit in sight. She was swallowing smoke and thick clouds of it were constricting her windpipe. She blindly fought her way through the crowds of Capitol citizens, forcing harsh breaths out of her parted lips as she weaved between couples, muttering apologies as she went.

It was almost a godsend when the musicians struck up a livelier tune, sending flocks of giggling drunks to the dance floor and leaving her with a clear run to the food tables.

Gripping onto the first cream tablecloth in view, she used the back of her hand to wipe beads of sweat off her forehead. She didn't bother paying attention to the foundation that came away with it— if she didn't find a distraction soon, she would snap.

Thankfully, she had come to the right place. As much as she despised the Capitol and everything they stood for, she couldn't fault the food. It was one of the highlights of the evening, after all.

The choices were overwhelming; sushi rolls arranged in bite-sized portions; nachos drizzled in chilli sauce and topped with bacon bits; buckets of shrimp and dozens of different choices of meat.

As for the desserts, they gave a different meaning to heaven altogether; trifles drowning in whipped cream; mountains of profiteroles; apple pies the size of footballs and wedding-sized chocolate cakes.

It made her blood boil when she ate at the Capitol. People in the districts were dying of starvation and here, they drank flasks of champagne that made you sick with the sole purpose of eating more.

Dahlia begrudgingly snatched a paper plate from the stack and began piling food onto it. She hadn't eaten since earlier in the morning, so she pushed away the moral war raging on in her head.

She chose a lemon cupcake and shoved half into her mouth, continuing browsing.

Most of the guests were still absorbed in dancing and it left her with her pick of the litter. She had at least an hour until Malaki or Sparrow realised that she hadn't returned yet. An hour was good enough for her.

Spooning ice cream onto the side of her chocolate cake, a figure materialized out of thin air, standing beside her.

"After all these years, isn't it strange that we haven't managed to have a proper conversation?"

Dahlia resisted the urge to flinch and redirected her attention to the bread rolls across the table. "Well, my luck's gotta run out at some point," she offered sarcastically, stabbing a knife into a piece of cake.

She hoped that the cold shoulder would get him off her trail but after two minutes of silence, where he followed her around the food tables, picking away at the delicacies every so often, it was clear that he did not plan on leaving any time soon.

Tonguing the inside of her cheek, she lifted her gaze to meet his. "What do you want, O'Dair?" she hissed, slamming down the paper plates.

Finnick batted his eyelashes innocently and lifted his shoulders into a shrug. He was the Capitol's darling, adored and wanted by... well, everyone. As far as she was concerned, the only thing she and Finnick had in common was the fact that they were both stuck pleasing Capitol men and women.

In the eight years since she had been crowned victor, they had barely spoken. There'd never been a reason to, so what was with the sudden change of heart?

He knew how to play the game and he knew how to play it well, she'd give him that.

He was charismatic and talked circles around people. The Capitol women fell at his feet and as much as she hated to admit it, he was gorgeous.

He was built like a god, tall and tan, tousled bronze curls falling into his eyes. He was the perfect poster boy, the image of what a victor should be.

Dahlia had never been able to figure him out. She was beginning to think that maybe that was why she was wary of him. She didn't like the unknown and ever since the games, she found it hard to trust people. He was unpredictable, a bit of a wild card so to speak.

People in the Capitol may have been fooled by his charm, but Dahlia wasn't.

He had had eight years to speak to her. She found it highly unlikely that Finnick decided to talk to her on his own accord. Something had to be wrong. He had to have an ulterior motive— she just had to figure out what it was.

"What do you want?" she repeated, holding his gaze. If anyone was going to avert their eyes first, it wasn't going to be her.

Finnick chuckled breezily under his breath, a smirk pulling at the corner of his lips. "Relax, honey. What's the rush, hm?" he arched a brow and reached out to steal a bread roll from her plate.

"Get your own," she slapped his hand away, hugging the plates close to her chest. He pouted dramatically and she rolled her eyes at his childish antics. "And don't call me that," she scowled and set the plates on the table.

She scanned the crowds for any glimpse of Malaki but the people on the dance floor moved too quickly and she soon became dizzy. He was constantly hovering over her and the one time she needed him, he was nowhere to be seen. It was typical!

Finnick chomped on a bread roll, quickly shoving the rest into his mouth when Dahlia turned around and swiped for it, her mouth hanging open. He shot her a smug grin, tilting his head to the side. "Come on, honey, don't be like that," he teased, taking two glasses of white wine from a passing Avox and murmuring his thanks.

Tentatively sipping, he held out the other glass and waited for her to accept his gesture of goodwill.

Dahlia's brows knitted together, distrustful eyes searching for any indication that he was trying to trick her. He didn't miss a beat, his face remaining expressionless, giving her no insight into how his mind worked. With her patience wearing thin, she took the drink from his outstretched hand, fingers closing around the cool glass. She didn't speak, simply fixing him with that same icy, blasé stare.

Finnick downed the rest of his glass, tongue darting out to wet his lips as he cast a cautious glance over his shoulder. "I suppose you've heard the talk in the districts. The Mockingjay and her lover have inspired some..." he paused, closing the gap between them so that she could catch his every word, "...interesting topics of conversation."

"Whatever game you're playing, I'm not interested," she snapped defensively, cutting him off before he had a chance to say anything else. In the districts, speaking about rebellions was punishable by public execution.

She dreaded to think what would happen if they were caught discussing the subject in the President's House, of all places. He knew when to pick his moments, huh?

Finnick might not have had many people left to protect but she did.

She carelessly threw the full glass back onto the food tables and spun on her stilettos to leave. She made it into a hallway until a hand wrapped around her wrist, stopping her from going any further.

His grip was firm enough that she couldn't wriggle out of it but gentle enough that it didn't hurt. "Let go or I swear to god, I will slit your throat right here," she warned.

"Killing the Capitol's darling would only put a target on your back, honey," Finnick reasoned, releasing his hold and taking a step back out of her personal space. An apology lingered on his lips but the words got caught in his throat. He wiped his palms into the fish-scaled trousers that hung dangerously low on his hipbones. "I just wanna talk."

She had become somewhat accustomed to arrogance when he spoke, so the odd gentleness in his tone made her head spin. He tugged on a shell necklace falling down his bare torso and, if she hadn't known better, he almost seemed nervous.

"We can't talk. Not here, anyway," she gestured vaguely towards the security cameras and she could almost see the lightbulb appearing over his head. A mischievous twinkle glinted in his eyes and dimples etched their way into the skin of his cheeks.

It was still impossible to get a glimpse into his thoughts, but whatever elaborate plan he was conjuring up, she could tell it was something she wouldn't like.

Without a word of explanation, Finnick made a b-line for a door at the opposite end of the corridor. "Are you coming or not?" He asked, that teasing lilt returning with his confidence.

Dahlia huffed out a sigh, weighing up her options. No matter how insufferable Finnick O'Dair was, following him surely beat spending her time with Sparrow.

Picking up the golden skirt of her dress, she reluctantly traipsed after him. By the time she caught up in her ridiculously high heels, Finnick had pushed the door ajar and was propping it open with his foot. "Ladies first, honey," he mocked, lips quirking into a smile when she glared over her shoulder at the nickname.

The woman's eyes swept across the private study, no doubt searching for intruders lurking in the dark.

He closed the door quietly and the muscles in her shoulders tensed. "You can relax, honey. No offence but you're not exactly my type," he chuckled airily, no maliciousness behind his tone.

"Well, aren't you a charmer?" she scoffed, fingertips skimming along the spines of hardbacks on the bookshelves. For the most part, they were your classic fairy tales with happy endings and bright front covers.

She hadn't exactly expected the President to keep his personal items somewhere with so little security—the study door had been unlocked, for Christ's sake.

"Is there a point to any of this or what?" she asked curiously, browsing through the bookshelves.

"This is the only room that isn't riddled with mics or cameras," Finnick explained, leaning his weight on an oak table. "Which means we're able to talk about rebellions without worrying about anyone eavesdropping," he shuffled in the flimsy shorts his stylist had chosen and pulled a box of sugar cubes from his pocket.

Dahlia opened her mouth to ask how he could be so sure but fell short.

Finnick had been in the Capitol business' for a long time and if a client didn't want to wait to go back to the hotel, she assumed this was where they would come.

It would be insensitive to ask when she already knew the answer, so instead, she opted for the next question that popped into her head. "How do I know you're telling the truth?" She arched a dark brow and smoothed out the creases in her gown. "You could be trying to set me up," she speculated, watching as he threw a sugar cube in the air and caught it between his teeth. Show off.

Finnick lifted his shoulder into a shrug. "I'd be implementing myself," he countered, offering her a sugar cube from the container. She shook her head, unsure why he was acting so nonchalant about this.

"You're the Capitol's darling. Do you think Snow is stupid enough to touch a hair on your pretty little head?" She scoffed, absentmindedly flipping through the pages of a book to keep from meeting his eyes.

He hadn't asked to be adored by the Capitol; she knew that— Finnick hadn't asked to be put in this situation any more than she had. Regardless, a part of her couldn't help resenting him, even if it wasn't fair.

"You think I'm pretty?" he teased and without even having to look, she knew he was smirking like the fucking madman he was. "You're right—although our beloved president would have no problem putting me in my place."

He didn't have to explain what he meant; disobeying the president's orders only ended one way, and that was with someone they loved dead.

Guilt stirred in Dahlia's stomach, and she swallowed it down uncomfortably. It seemed that even the Capitol's favourites didn't get off scot-free. Well, they were off to a great start so far, weren't they?!

"So, what exactly do you want to talk about?" She cleared her throat awkwardly and reached out for another hardback, sliding it from its slot on the shelf. "You know, rebellions and the Mockingjay, you didn't pinpoint anything specific, did you?" She cradled the book in her hands and turned to face him.

"Fair point," Finnick ducked his head with a smile, nodding softly. "Alright. Let me ask you something, honey. Katniss Everdeen and the bakers' boy; do you believe the star-crossed lover's tale?"

Dahlia didn't answer straightaway, mulling over his words. It was a complex one, she supposed.

Katniss Everdeen kept her cards close to her heart and didn't allow an eye to bleed through to what she was thinking. It was almost impossible to tell if her feelings for Peeta Mellark, her district partner and fellow victor of the 74th Hunger Games, were genuine or an act.

Either way, the Capitol citizens ate it up, too tangled in the love affair to question the legitimacy of it.

When Seneca Crane, head game maker, announced that there could be two victors from the same district, only to revoke the rule at the last minute, neither Peeta nor Katniss could bring themselves to kill the other, which was exactly where the poisonous berries came into play.

Before they had a chance to follow through with the double suicide, Seneca Crane delivered the good news.

Somehow, someway, Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark had defied all odds and outsmarted the Capitol. For the first time in history, the Hunger Games had two victors.

To say that President Snow was livid would be an understatement; Seneca Crane had met his untimely end, and the star-crossed lovers had no doubt been warned of the consequences if they failed to keep up appearances.

If Dahlia had to bet, she would guess that Snow had tailored his message towards Katniss.

Peeta may not have been the best fighter in the arena but he knew how to sell their story and make it believable. He deserved credit for that, at the very least. It was obvious to anyone with two eyes that his feelings for Katniss were real, regardless of whether they were reciprocated or not.

Katniss on the other hand... well, she wouldn't win any Oscars in the future, put it that way. Every time she was in front of a camera, it looked like she was sucking a sour lemon as opposed to being madly in love.

Their recent engagement had surely been Snow's idea, and if it wasn't, it was still meant to satisfy his peace of mind and distract the districts.

Dahlia couldn't figure out if Katniss was in love with Peeta, but she had a nagging feeling that behind the faux relationship and engagement, there was something there.

"I think they have more important things to worry about. You know, like fanning the embers of a rebellion? I doubt that went down well with our president," she scoffed out a bitter laugh and fired the book onto a black leather sofa.

She had to admit that the thought of their president finally being knocked down a peg was most appealing. It was no surprise that he hated the two victors— they served as a reminder that he and his system could fall just as quickly as it was built.

It's a good thing, she thinks. It tells him that he is not untouchable. That he is just as expendable as the twenty-three children who are sent to the slaughter every year.

Finnick clears his throat and it snaps her back to reality.

"I reckon he throws darts at photos of their faces every night before bed," he snickered, clasping his hands behind his head.

Dahlia laughed, pulling off her stilettos and looping the straps around her wrists. Bloom was probably one of the best stylists in the business but the heels she favoured would surely land her muse in hospital one of these days.

Bunching up the skirt of her dress, she pushed herself onto the opposite end of the table and let the heels fall from her grasp. "I bet he has a journal where he conjures up extravagant ways to kill them off," she smiled, swinging her legs back and forth.

He shot forward, crossing his legs and snapping his fingers in her direction. "Oh my god, he'd use glitter pens and put stars on the most painful ideas," he added, breaking into a laugh halfway through his sentence.

Dahlia let out an indignant snort at the mental image of President Snow in his office, using an array of glitter pens to write in his pretty pink journal.

She looked to Finnick, which may have been a mistake on her part, as it sent them both into a fresh fit of laughter.

When the sound of drunken giggles echoed down the hallway, Dahlia's blood ran cold. All of the giddiness was sucked from her body, leaving her with a chill that cut bone deep.

"Stop for a second," she tightly grabbed his arm, desperately trying to listen over the thrumming of her heart in her ears.

Contrary to popular belief, Finnick wasn't as stupid as he looked. He kept quiet, and he could just about make out the giggling of a drunk couple.

"Someone's coming," he hissed, wide eyes darting about as he hopped off the table.

"What do we do?" she whispered, bare feet making contact with the floor as she scrambled to pick up her heels. Wisps of dark brown hair had escaped from her bun and were falling into her eyes. "Should we hide?"

Finnick pressed his palms into his forehead, willing himself to think of something that would get them out of this situation.

Biting down on his bottom lip, he managed to compose himself long enough to resort back to the one thing he knew. "Do you trust me?" He asked, taking a hesitant step towards her.

"Absolutely not," Dahlia answered without missing a beat. What kind of a question was that? Before today, they had both been perfectly happy to ignore one another's existence! Of course she didn't trust him!

She may have made some questionable decisions in her lifetime, but she wasn't stupid——she didn't trust Finnick O'Dair as far as she could throw him. Shakily taking a step backwards, her hands flew out to steady herself when she hit the desk.

"You have to kiss me." The words tumbled from his lips before he had a chance to stop them and in that moment, he thought Dahlia Holloway was going to kill him with her bare hands.

Instead of clawing at his throat, she scoffed out a laugh, knuckles turning white from how hard she was gripping the edges of the table behind her.

"Well, do you have a better idea?" He hissed, digging his dull nails into the skin of his biceps. "We're not exactly friends, are we, honey?" he asked rhetorically now that being hung for treason was becoming a real possibility "So, how are we meant to explain this away?" he gestured wildly between the two of them.

"We snuck off to see each other," she nodded, eyes fluttering shut as she understood what he was implying. The Capitol couple were about to stumble into the study in approximately five minutes.

Either way, they were going to get caught and to the people in the Capitol, keeping their mouths shut was a foreign concept.

It was bound to get back to President Snow; Finnick O'Dair and Dahlia Holloway were found huddled in a study at one of his parties. It wouldn't take long for him to realise that the room in question just so happened to be the only room that wasn't riddled with microphones and cameras.

With the threat of a rebellion looming over his head, he wouldn't take that risk. Their families would be dead by morning— unless they painted him a different narrative.

It was stupid. God, it was so, so stupid. But the clicking of heels was growing closer and what choice did they have? There was no talking their way out of this one, not when Snow was out for blood.

She cradled her head in her hands, digging the pads of her fingers into her temples. She could feel herself losing her grip on what was real and what wasn't as she sunk further into the depths of insanity. Chewing on the inside of her cheek, she sighed in exasperation and hopped back onto the desk, legs dangling off the side. "This is all your fault, you know that, right?"

There was no point portioning blame at this point and technically speaking, this was her fault just as much as it was Finnick's. Still, it was becoming almost impossible to string together a rational thought and blaming him was the easier option.

"I didn't hold a knife to your neck and drag you in here, now did I, honey?" He tugged on his curls and shuffled forward in his dress shoes.

It took every ounce of self-control she possessed not to strike first. She wondered if anyone's heart had ever ripped its way out of their chest. If not, she was sure she would be the first; her stomach was doing somersaults and not the good kind.

"We might as well bite the bullet if we want to make it believable," she swallowed down the lump in her throat, bright eyes lingering on the doorframe.

He hummed softly in agreement and took one more step forward, keeping his hands to himself until she gave him the green light. "I'm not going to hurt you," he clarified, unable to stand the tension in the air.

She offered him an amused smile but he had a sneaking suspicion that it was an attempt to hide her discomfort. "You'd probably kick my ass, anyway."

Dahlia laughed, feeling the weight around her chest slowly lift. It was still a struggle to breathe but it was a little easier to tell what was real and what wasn't, which was classed as an improvement if you asked her. "Yeah, you've got that one right."

Finnick closed the gap between them, knees slotting between her legs. He hesitated and Dahlia took matters into her own hands, leaning close to him. Their lips met, tentatively at first, and warmth lit her nerve endings on fire.

She hadn't imagined him to be gentle. He was soft, all tender touches and careful caresses. His hands fell to the juncture between her shoulders and neck, smoothing back the dress fabric that got in his way. Her fingers carded through his golden locks, skimming the curls at the nape of his neck.

Both Finnick and Dahlia were so caught up in selling their narrative that they missed the creak of the door. It hit the wall loudly, knocking a potted plant down and scattering dirt across the floor.

A Capitol couple blindly stumbled into the study, gripping the doorframe to keep themselves upright. Neither of the victors pulled away just yet, wanting to make sure that the couple saw them.

"Oh!"

They broke apart as the woman noticed the room was pre-occupied. She clutched a bottle of whisky in one hand, slapping her partner's arm with the other. The man laughed, muttering something about how the mighty had fallen.

"Sorry! We didn't realise there was anyone in here," she giggled, swaying on the spot. "We'll leave you to get back to it!"

She winked, linking arms with her partner as they staggered back into the hallway, no doubt on the prowl for a more private room before broadcasting what they saw to the whole population of Panem.

Dahlia covered her eyes with her hands, forcing deep breaths through her mouth. She completely ignored the fact that Finnick was standing in front of her, probably wondering what the hell was wrong with her. Too much, she would have answered.

Eventually, she choked down the clawing sensation of panic and let herself retreat into autopilot mode. She picked up her discarded heels from the ground, shoving her feet into the ridiculous shoes.

Huffing out a sigh of frustration, she shakily stood to her feet and wrenched the door open.

She disappeared into the hallway without wasting a second and Finnick was hot on her heels, practically running to keep up with her quick strides.

They didn't exchange a word as they made their way to the banquet hall. Finnick scuffed his dress shoes against the tiles and Dahlia glared at him over her shoulder, but that was as far as their friendliness (if you could even call it that) extended.

Dahlia peered through the glass double doors, watching flamboyantly dressed couples prance about the dance floor. Thankfully, it looked like no one had noticed their escape, which meant slipping back into the banquet hall would be a piece of cake.

The adrenaline high was wearing off and it left an anxious feeling in its wake. Reality was burying its way under her skin— and quickly, for that matter. "You're gonna keep quiet about what happened in there, right?" she folded her arms over her chest, her voice lacking its usual venom. She was too exhausted to bother arguing.

"Do you really think those two are gonna keep their mouths shut?" he raised a brow sceptical, confidence and cockiness both returning at full force. "It'll be all over Panem by morning, but I'll keep quiet if it helps you sleep at night," he winked teasingly.

Dahlia scoffed, her narrowed eyes honing in on the ruby lipstick marks on his face. "Red suits you by the way," she smirked, pointing a finger at the smudged colour and slipping back into the banquet hall, trying to swallow down the panic clawing at her chest.

What had she gotten herself into?

[prismaticpichu]

Oo how about “you’re safe now” with Sephiroth and any of agz? Whether that is true or not is up to you >:)

OOOOOOH, STAR!! That is a juicy one!!! :000 >:3cc Thank you so much for the delicious start!!! 💕

~

Sephiroth didn’t need to glance up to know it was Angeal who stalked into his office that evening, the exhausted huff and heavy slam of the door telling him all that he needed to know.

“...Long training session?” Sephiroth grunted, green eyes never straying from the document in front of him, his pen never halting in its elegant glide across the paper.

He heard Angeal plunk onto the couch. “Very long,” he corrected, and Sephiroth could see him sweep a sweat-sheeted layer of hair back from the corner of his eye. “I’m telling you... that boy, he drains me. Really drains me.”

Sephiroth scoffed, unsurprised. “Did I not warn you that a student would be a waste of your energy?”

“Gee... Thanks, Sephiroth.”

The man’s scoff hardened into a grunt. “I’m only being factual. If you had to take a protégée under your wing, I’m still baffled as to why you needed one of such... high demand.”

“High demand?” Angeal parroted, leaning back against the sofa. “What is he, a pet?”

“Mmn. I not the one who gave him the moniker, ‘puppy.’“

“Heh, well, it’s true.” Angeal’s lips curled into a smirk. “That kid’s got more energy than the average chihuahuas. And he’s clumsy like one, too. You know he broke three training swords by swinging too hard today?”

“Again...” Sephiroth scoffed, “why are you so devoted to this student?”

He was not expecting such a long swath of silence to pass after that. It was as if the words had struck something in his friend, strumming a tender cord that Sephiroth didn’t know to be so raw, leaving the man appearing extremely distant. Thoughtful. Wistful. For several beats, Angeal didn’t say a word, his gaze drifting over to the large, panoramic window behind him, scanning over the sprawling, bustling terrain of the cityscape below.

And when he did finally speak again, some noticeable time later, he seemingly wanted to redirect the subject entirely.

“...I need to ask you a favor, Sephiroth,” he said.

Grateful for the break in silence, Sephiroth continued to scrawl. “What?”

“...Can you look at me, at least? I’m serious.”

Something of a sigh escaped Sephiroth’s lips as he lifted his gaze from his paperwork, blinking a couple times to ease the strain, green eyes drifting across the office to lock with the sage, mako-fueled indigo of his friend’s.

He was almost taken aback by just how stern the man’s countenance really was.

“...If anything happens to me,” Angeal started, grimly, taking their connected gaze as permission to speak, “I need you to take care of Zack... alright?”

Sharp, blazing jolts of surprise coursed through Sephiroth’s body, stunned by both his friend’s direct words and the deeper implications. “W... what?” was all he could manage to say, the emerald eyes briefly widening before narrowing to slits, a pulse of concern hammering dreadfully in his heart. “Why would something happen to you?”

Angeal didn’t seem at all fazed by the question, the l prospect. “Life’s unpredictable... isn’t it? Who knows what might happen tomorrow.”

“Angeal—” Sephiroth started, unable to stifle the full extent of his panic. How... how could he even say such a thing? Genesis hadn’t even been gone for a week, and now Angeal was trying to insinuate something might happen to him as well? Something that might... take him away too...?! His lips curled into a snarl, defensive. “Why would you...—”

“Hey, relax.” Angeal put his palms up in a gesture of peace, comfort. “I’m not going anywhere.”—There was a flicker im his eyes as he said this, a spark that Sephiroth just couldn’t decipher—”I simply... worry about Zack sometimes. That’s all. I’m afraid he’ll get himself really tangled up without someone watching out for him. He’s a good kid, though, Sephiroth.:; Probably the kindest soul in all of SOLDIER. And really good with a sword, too.”

Sephiroth raised a brow. Skilled with a sword...? Heh. Most younger SOLDIERs preferred guns—much easier to handle, more practical, quicker to kill... It did take a certain courage to wield a blade, a certain character...

Still—

Sephiroth’s eyes returned to slits, throat rumbling in protest. “I don’t care.” he shook his head, tempted to reabsorb himself in his paperwork, the feline needles drifting back to his pen and document. “I have no desire to adopt a student.”

Angeal rubbed a kink in his neck. “...It was only a hypothetical, Sephiroth.”

“It doesn’t matter,” the man grunted. “I do not want the responsibility thrust upon me. Ask somebody else.”

Angeal remained silent for a moment. “...Like who, Sephiroth? Tell me.”

“Gene—” Sephiroth began, instinctively, before reality clamped down on his tongue in a cold, jagged vice, swallowing the rest of the name instead as a bitter silence dogged, one that loomed over the two SOLDIERs, breathing into and thickening the air around them like pollution.

“Exactly,” Angeal said after a few moments, quietly. “You’re the only one who I could really turn to, Sephiroth. The only one who be able to truly protect nim.”

Sephiroth’s gaze fell to the floor.

“Sephiroth...” Angeal sighed, pleading. “I need to know that there will be someone looking out for him. Please... I’m asking as a friend.”

Sephiroth grunted. “...And how would we ever get along?”

There was a beat, and Angeal cracked a small, wan smile. “...Don’t worry about that,” he chuckled. “I didn’t just call him Pup for the energy alone: he grows on you, you know? He worms his way into your heart.”

Heh, right... Sephiroth rapped his fingers against the arm of the chair. “...And who says I’m equipped to a student?”

Angeal shrugged, the tired smile still present. “I think you could use it. Both of you. Zack could likely benefit from someone a little tougher, and, you, well...” He thought for a moment. “I think Zack would be able to see what I see in you, friend. What... we both saw in you.” His smile faltered a little as he added this, another indecipherable flicker in his mako-fueled eyes. “In any case... I wouldn’t expect you to become best friends. I’m not asking that. Hell, I’d be rather shocked if you did. I’m only asking for someone who will look after the kid. Someone who I can trust, and someone who I know will...”—his eyes softened, swallowing thickly—”keep my friend safe...”

The silver bangs spilled over Sephiroth’s visage as he dipped his chin.

“Sephiroth... please.”

He never did give him an answer before Angeal’s phone rang, and the man raced out of his office in search of Zack.

The conversation never arose again.

—————

Green eyes fluttered open in the present, still sitting upright on his best friend’s couch, still cloaked in the sleepy darkness that had initially lulled him to sleep. Flickering lights from the television still puddled on his face, still buzzing with some late-night program that was left on... And that weight—the warm, sturdy weight pressing against his shoulder...

Sleepily, Sephiroth turned his head aside, and he couldn’t say he was surprised to find Zack sound asleep against him, a tranquil smile playing on his lips as he exhaled soft, rhythmic breaths into his coat, the light from the TV illuminating his sleepy visage, his scar, the thready cowlick that drooped endearingly over his nose...

Smiling softly, Sephiroth reached out, gently ruffling the feathery nest of spikes.

Zack’s own smile softened under his touch.

“…You’re safe with me. I promise.”

[angstyaches]

For holiday requests, how about someone overindulging on some eggnog?

🎄🥂

Word Count: 4000+

CW: interspersed angst, stomach ache, repressed stress, tense sibling relationship, overeating/drinking, alcohol, burping, mild nausea.

___

Oli beamed from under the hood of her elf onesie. “Eggnog?” 

She had already filled four mugs of it and then piled them high with aesthetically-pleasing swirls of whipped cream dusted with cinnamon. The mugs were all matching, reindeer faces protruding from the ceramics, and had been neatly arranged on a black lacquerware tray. Last year, the trusty mugs had held hot chocolate with peppermint syrup. The year before, mulled wine with chunky cinnamon sticks.  

“Is it alcoholic?” Nadja flinched as Lilith whacked her in the stomach with the back of their hand. “What?” 

“I-I can open a bottle of wine.” Rex was standing next to Oli, her fingers lightly resting on her girlfriend’s shoulder. She had brought her hair up to shoulder-length, and it fell it tight, forest-green curls from underneath her Santa hat. The white bobble bounced back and forth as she glanced towards the kitchen, then back at Nadja. “Or… prosecco? I think there’s a bottle of prosecco.” 

Nadja’s eyes did something Lilith hadn’t seen them do all day’; not while they’d opened presents, not while family members had filed in, not when the Christmas pudding had been set aflame; light up. “Ooh, yes, please.” 

“I think I’ll join you.” Rex lifted her hand from Oli’s shoulder. She had done her nails with a glamour, turning them a deep, shimmering blue.  Tiny white snowflakes drifted softly through the air surrounded her fingertips, vanishing above her cuticles before reappearing at the tips of her nails. “Lilith?” 

“I’m going to try Oli’s eggnog.” 

“Just us two then,” Rex smiled at Nadja. 

Nadja gave a low chuckle as she followed Rex through to the kitchen. Rex started opening cupboards with her back turned, unaware that she’d just made a best friend for life. 

“More for us.” Lilith winked at Oli, rubbing their palms together and selecting a reindeer mug from the tray. 

“Precisely.” Oli rested the tray of down on the coffee table and grabbed a mug for herself. She sat, and Lilith followed her lead.  

The cheesy Christmas blankets and throw cushions were strewn across the sofa, greens and reds contrasting against the mustard-yellow upholstery. A digital fireplace burned on the TV screen, crackling beneath soft instrumental holiday music. For today only, the apartment was full of the smells of cinnamon, vanilla, and cloves. No doubt that tomorrow it would be back to smelling equally of engine oil and sage. 

Rex trotted back from the kitchen, her arms laden with the prosecco bottle, bottle opener, two glass flutes, and a digital magnetic timer. Nadja shuffled behind, hands swinging, and sat down on the couch next to Lilith. 

“Their place is smaller than I pictured, but it’s really nice,” she whispered. 

Lilith pursed their lips and took a mouthful of eggnog so that they wouldn’t have to reply.  

They loved their sister, they truly did, but after a day of enduring family niceties, it was hard to keep up the same pace. Drinks at Rex and Oli’s was usually a tradition kept between the three of them, but for the first time since she’d turned eighteen, Nadja was single for Christmas. For the last three months she’d been making it known how depressed she was about it. Lilith had been venting to Rex about how hard it was to keep reassuring their sister when they were already dealing with their own relationship issues, when Rex had insisted that Nadja come over on Christmas Day, too. 

To top it all off, Nadja had still moped like a teenager all day, and didn’t seem to appreciate just how much of an honour it was to intrude on this sacred tradition. She slipped into things that belonged to Lilith like she’d always secretly owned them first. 

She didn’t realise how badly Lilith needed this. Not just a respite from real life, but a respite from all of their multiple versions of real life. Tonight, they weren’t a witch, weren’t a warrior, weren’t an agent, weren’t anything but... 

But what? 

These were all bad, not very Christmassy, thoughts, and Lilith drowned them under a mouthful of whipped cream from the top of their mug. And then they swallowed it all down. After licking the cream from their lips, they took another swig, this time from deeper in the mug. 

It was the perfect temperature, hot enough for them to feel it warm them on its way down, and deliciously rich and smooth. Lilith wasn’t sure why they had expected eggnog to taste like scrambled eggs, and their eyes literally opened wider as they processed the fact that they were basically drinking custard. All their life, they had been the kind of person to take the smallest possible sliver of Christmas pudding and then make it swim in custard. All this time, this had been an option, and they’d been totally oblivious? 

“Oli, that’s fucking gorgeous,” they hurried to say in between sips. 

“Thank you!” 

“Is it?” Nadja’s shoulders slumped. Lilith practically saw the FOMO flash through her eyes. She quickly got over it, though, at about the same time as Rex placed a flute of prosecco in her hand. 

“Cheers, m’dears,” Rex said softly, clinking her flute against Nadja’s. She also reached across to clink Lilith’s mug, and then Oli’s.  

Lilith eyed the red lipstick smudges on their mug, feeling a bit ashamed that they’d already taken a drink. Well, several. 

“And Merry Christmas,” Rex added, stepping over the coffee table with her drink still raised in the air. Her eyes glinted, purple and shimmering, as she turned and smiled. “We survived another one.” 

“We sure did, babe.” Oli gazed up at her girlfriend as though she couldn’t quite believe her eyes that she existed. The two of them generally weren’t sappy or lovey-dovey with Lilith around, but since they couldn’t exactly be a third wheel with a fourth person around, Oli seemed to have taken the opportunity to fawn a little. It seemed to take a bit of effort for her to turn her head to include Lilith and Nadja. “Merry Christmas, beautiful humans.” 

“Yep. Merry Christmas,” Nadja agreed with a nod. A tad solemn, but she was trying. Lilith felt a sudden wave of guilt for resenting Nadja for coming along. She looked so happy, so comfortable, and Oli and Rex were all too delighted to welcome her into their home. 

And Lilith Mars Forrester was many things, but they were not a Grinch – even if their jumper literally had the Grinch’s face knitted into it. At the end of the day, they were sitting in a room with three of the most important women in their life. 

“Merry Christmas,” they smiled. “I love you guys.” 

Toasting done, Rex flopped on a purple beanbag on the floor. She had placed the magnetic timer on the coffee table while she’d been serving the prosecco and giving cheers, but she picked it up now, tapping buttons until there were five minutes on the clock. 

“And with that, I hereby declare,” she said, “this year’s official Christmas Day Decompression Session… begun!” 

Oli instantly launched into a passionate tale of how her brother-in-law had forgotten to bring the cranberry sauce for the turkey, even though they’d called him three times in December to make sure he remembered. This had descended into madness, with the brother-in-law accusing Oli’s mother of never liking him in the first place. The words tumbled out of her in a hurry, since time was of the essence. 

Nadja looked at Lilith with wild confusion. Ah. They’d forgotten to explain it to her, hadn’t they? Or had they purposefully omitted it? 

“We have five minutes to be as negative as we want about Christmas with our families,” Lilith whispered. “Then we let it all go and enjoy the rest of the night.” 

“What?” Nadja hissed. 

Sweat tickled the back of Lilith’s neck. 

“Do you complain about me, you bastard?” 

Once again, Lilith forewent acknowledging her by filling their mouth with an excessive amount of eggnog. Looking back a moment later, they realised that not answering was probably far worse than answering honestly, but by then it was too late. 

“Alright.” Oli sighed deeply and waved a palm to the room. “Somebody else go.” 

“Lilith bought me a makeup palette I already own,” Nadja blurted out. She threw an accusatory glance in Lilith’s direction and then seemed to quietly seek validation from Rex and Oli. 

Rex grinned into her prosecco glass. Oli grimaced and leaned forward, pressing her elbows into her knees like she was watching sports. 

“I – did I?” Lilith coughed, a splash of eggnog catching in their throat. Their heart thumped in their chest as they remembered that afternoon in the department store, picking up bottles, trying to decide which one to buy. Their hands shaking. Their brain buzzing with the details of a quarry they still hadn’t tracked down. Trying not to think about how many more victims were being made while the Hand continued to gather intel –  

“I’m sorry.” They swallowed, glancing at Rex in her festive hat and pyjamas. Christmas Day. Friends. Happy, happy, happy. They looked at Nadja. “I have the receipt. We can go and exchange it tomorrow.” 

“Thank you.” Nadja nodded and looked quite pleased with that outcome. Or with… herself? Did she think the Christmas Day Decompression Session was a game, and that she’d just somehow won? Lilith was disappointed in themself for even wondering that. Of course that was how Nadja saw it. 

“Is that it?” Lilith asked brusquely. 

“That’s it.” 

“Okay…” Lilith frowned in thought as their sister took a drink. They’d half-expected her to complain about how many times their father had brought up Stephen, Nadja’s last boyfriend, despite the fact they’d broken up back in April. If this had been a regular year, with just Lilith, Rex, and Oli, Lilith would have vented their frustration about having to hear about it so many times.  

But with her sitting right there, already stewing, it felt wrong to bring it up. 

Lilith took a slurp of eggnog to give themself a few more seconds to think. “Um. Oh! Petra’s perfume. What the fuck was that?” 

Nadja hummed. “Yes! I could smell her from a mile away.” 

“Wait. There are two Petras in your family, right? Are you talking about your cousin?” Rex asked. 

“Our aunt,” Lilith and Nadja both replied. 

“Ah.” 

“You can probably smell her on us,” Lilith declared, smiling as Nadja buried her nose against the sleeve of her cardigan. 

“I think I can, you know!” 

They both burst out laughing at the same time, and Lilith literally had to hold themself around the waist. Admittedly, it wasn’t that funny, but on top of an already-full stomach topped with eggnog, it was enough to make them worry that their sides would split. 

“Uh, Rex?” Lilith asked, tossing the metaphorical baton across to her where she was still perched on the beanbag. 

It took Rex a few seconds to wipe the look of bewilderment off her face. After that, she held up her phone and began to read from what seemed to be a pre-compiled list of grievances. It was like listening to spoken word poetry, and Lilith sipped away on their eggnog, enthralled. ‘Second-cousin Robert might literally be a flat-earther’ was a highlight. Despite what Nadja might have felt, there were no prizes in the Christmas Day Decompression Session, but if there had been, Rex might have won Most Concerning Relative that year. 

As the timer beeped to mark the end of the Decompression Session, Lilith was cradling an almost-empty mug in their hands and silently offering up their gratitude that nobody had experienced anything homophobic or transphobic this year. It was a little frustrating that that was how low the bar was set, but it was still worth celebrating. 

“Okay. Everyone, breathe in.” Rex closed her eyes and slowly lifted her hands, palms up, from her knees, stopping when they were just higher than her head. Lilith gently inflated their lungs, matching the pace of Rex’s movements. She was actually making them breathe a little too fast, in Lilith’s professional opinion, but they weren’t about to be a Grinch about it.  

Not everybody knew how to become so relaxed that their heartbeat slowed right down, almost to a stop, so that even nearby vampires found it hard to locate you – 

“And out.” Rex brought her hands back down again. Slowly. Ish. 

Beneath her straight-cut bangs, Nadja’s eyebrows were mashed towards each other, as though she could force-of-will her way to Christmas enlightenment. Lilith downed the rest of their eggnog. It was a shame that there were two more full mugs cooling off on the lacquerware tray. 

“I’m going to take another,” they announced, wiggling a finger in the direction of the tray, “if nobody else will?” 

Oli nodded and gestured to the tray. She had shaken down her hood, revealing her choppy pixie cut. Her eyes locked onto Lilith’s. “Are you okay?” 

“Uh-huh.” Lilith smiled as they swapped their empty mug for a new one. They went straight in for a gulp of whipped cream from the top, then took a deep swig. It was still hot, still heavenly. 

“I’m glad you like it. It was my first time making it.” Oli pointed over her shoulder, vaguely in the direction of the kitchen. ““We have mince pies, pigs-in-blankets, and cheese and crackers, if anyone’s hungry.”  

“Are you kidding?” Rex planted a hand on her stomach. She curled up a little tighter on the beanbag. “Are you actively trying to kill me with food?” 

“Not you, babe. I said if anyone is hungry.” 

Lilith sat up a little straighter, twisting a lock of straightened hair from their shoulder. “Did you make the mince pies, Oli?” 

She nodded and inclined her chin. “You want one, don’t you?” 

“If you wouldn’t mind...” 

Oli sprang to her feet. “Nadja?” 

Lilith had never heard Oli say their sister’s name aloud before, and it was obvious that she wasn’t quite sure whether it should be two syllables or three. 

Nadja grinned and nodded. “Yes, please.” 

Oli smirked and stuck her tongue out at Rex. “Rex, how many can I put you down for?” 

The pile of fuzzy red fabric on the beanbag let out a long groan. 

Lilith focused on slowing their heart rate, grateful that Rex didn’t sit back up to try to talk to them. Nadja was preoccupied with sipping her prosecco, and humming along to the tune of Jingle Bell Rock as it played through the TV speakers. 

When Oli returned from the kitchen, she was carrying two mince pies on a ceramic plate. She leaned over and handed the plate to Nadja, but instead of going straight back to her spot in the armchair, Oli crouched by Rex’s beanbag. From behind, she scooped her girlfriend into a hug, rubbing her hand over her belly. 

“You’ll be alright,” Oli said. She kissed Rex’s cheek and got up, hopping back into her armchair. 

“You guys are so cute.” Nadja sulked and picked at the foil casing on her pie. “I wish I was a lesbian.” 

“Nadja,” Lilith chided, but noted that Rex and Oli were both laughing, and it wasn’t forced laughter. “Shut up and eat your pie.” 

She snorted. “You don’t have to tell me twice.” 

Nobody had to tell Lilith, not even once. They took slow, tidy bites, careful not to get crumbs on Rex and Oli’s couch, and they were about halfway through when the rich, fruity filling began to stick in the back of their throat. The pastry-filling ratio was perfect, and was by no means too dry; it was just a matter of trying to force more food into their already overworked stomach. Christmas Day dinner was much heavier than what Lilith was used to eating. They’d had just enough digesting time to forget how full they’d been.  

After washing down the last of the mince pie with a long swallow of eggnog, Lilith had to fight for their life to stifle a belch. They held their breath, willing their belly to settle down. The trapped air still shifted uncomfortably, gurgling as it shifted through their stomach contents. 

“Was that your stomach?” Nadja asked, barely stifling a yawn. 

“Yes…”  

“That sounded like a polar bear waking up,” Nadja observed. 

Rex smiled sympathetically from the beanbag, her eyes travelling to Lilith’s middle. Like Nadja, she seemed to be fighting a yawn, her eyes glistening. “Are you good?” 

If everyone was looking at them anyway, there was no point in making themself suffer more, so Lilith released a short, breathy burp. “I’m just kind of full,” they admitted, raising their mug to try to swallow down the acidic taste in their mouth. 

“Lilith!” Oli cried, following the motion of Lilith’s hand. “You just said you were full! What are you doing?” 

“Oli and the Ivy, are you attempting to ‘nog-shame me?” 

Oli’s eyebrows darted up. “Uh, no. That wouldn’t be very in line with the Oli-day spirit.”

Lilith winked as they took a sip. The eggnog was getting cool now, but it tasted just as good. 

“Let’s do something,” Rex piped up, sitting forward on the beanbag. She tapped her cheeks and shook her head, making her Santa hat bobble whip from one shoulder to the other. “Otherwise I’m just going to get drunk and sleepy and not fun. Shall we play a game?” 

Nadja visibly perked up. “A drinking game?”  

Oli’s mouth opened, then snapped shut again as she looked at Rex. Lilith’s stomach contorted as something private seemed to pass between the two of them. Was it just-the-two-of-them private, or was it inner-circle private? Would they have told Lilith what was going on if Nadja hadn’t been here? 

“You don’t need a game to drink, Nads.” Lilith tapped the underside of their sister’s prosecco glass. “If you want to drink, just drink.” 

She shrugged as if to say ‘fair point’, and tipped her glass towards her lips. 

Rex produced a deck of cards from a wooden crate sitting next to the TV. The artwork on the cards was themed around Roman deities, each royal depicting a different god or goddess. Lilith didn’t need to ask to know that they belonged to Oli, who was a secret Ancient Rome history buff, while Rex was more enamoured with Egyptian mythology. 

She dealt them all into a game of rummy. Oli changed the fireplace channel to Christmas With The Kranks, in the hopes that it wouldn’t lull anyone to sleep like the instrumental music almost had. By the time Oli had completed a seven-card run, Lilith had only collected a pair and a triple; but in their defense, the majority of their body’s energy was focused on digesting the sickly weight in their stomach. 

They finished the dregs of their second mug of eggnog and laid it down on the tray. They tentatively eyed the last untouched mug. The whipped cream had deflated and sunk into the liquid below, but they had no doubt that it would taste just as lovely. 

“Why am I so bad at this?” Nadja grumbled, handing Rex her cards so they could be shuffled back into the deck for the next game. 

“Lilith,” Oli said, “you’re not thinking what I think you’re thinking?” 

Lilith grinned. “Well, as long as you’re not eyeing it up…” 

Rex laughed to herself as she shuffled the cards. 

Oli rolled her eyes, barely containing a grin. “You are the only one doing that.” 

It was with just a little sheepishness that Lilith reached for the last mug. They slurped up what was left of the dissolving whipped cream. It slipped far too easily down their throat. As they watched Rex deal the hands for the next game, they felt that first, cold, slightly clumpy mouthful gurgle its way out of their oesophagus. 

Nadja muttered under her breath as she began organising her cards. She held them close, her eyes narrowed, her hand purposefully turned away from Lilith, as though they might have been trying to cheat her out of some imagined victory. 

When Rex won the next game, Nadja threw down her cards with a little more force than was necessary. She snatched up her prosecco glass and stared at the TV, trying to pretend she hadn’t really cared or paid attention to the game at all. Lilith knew her tricks.  

They weren’t good tricks. 

“Nadja, it’s fine,” Lilith whispered, their temper simmering. Nadja’s obsession with winning every game under the sun was one of the reasons they didn’t usually want to spend the entirety of Christmas Day with her. They knew where her frustration came from though, knew that it wasn’t pettiness, wasn’t a cry for attention, wasn’t the behaviour of a bratty child. 

She sighed. “I… think I’m going to sit the next game out.” 

“We don’t have to keep playing.” Rex’s snowflakes were still softly trickling down her nails as she gathered up the cards. “We can just chill and watch the movie.” 

Rex adjusted the lights, lowering the main lights and flicking on an extra floor lamp to supplement the fairy lights and fibre optic tree. Oli jumped up, remembering that there were some Christmas crackers that hadn’t been pulled, and they all pulled two each.  

Lilith won twice but slipped their prizes into Nadja’s lap. It was just a cheap pencil sharpener and a fortune-selling fish, but her eyes lit up all the same. 

“Thank you,” she said quietly. And then Lilith realised that there might have been something magical in that golden fizzy prosecco she was drinking, because she scooted a little closer to them. 

And rested her cheek on Lilith’s shoulder.  

Lilith held their breath. Their stomach was sore, an aching pressure building beneath their abs, and they kind of wanted to shift into a position that was less constricting, but they couldn’t move. Not now. Nadja’s head was still on their shoulder when everything quietened down and, with no more distractions, focused on the movie. 

Rex had shimmied herself onto her side on the bean bag, her arm curled under her head, and she very much looked like a woman who wouldn’t be conscious two minutes from now. Oli stretched out her legs and sank low in the armchair, hands folded over her stomach, eyelids heavy. The fairy lights twinkled, sending gentle flashes of colour through the room. 

Lilith remembered that they still had eggnog left. They slowly reached for it, and sank a little lower in the couch as they returned. They also used their free hand to guide Nadja back to their shoulder. She hummed sleepily and complied. 

The two of them used to hug and cuddle lot when they were little. They’d spent more nights sharing a bed than not. Lilith wished they could say that they couldn’t remember when all of that had stopped, but that would have been a lie. 

Their stomach churned as they swallowed a mouthful of eggnog. At this point, it was more like drinking room-temperature ice cream that had melted to the consistency of a milkshake, which in itself was a delightful treat and a welcome distraction from the sheer fucking guilt that settled over them every time they thought about how they’d been gifted with magic and Nadja had been given the short straw. 

Lilith watched over the edge of their mug as Jamie Lee Curtis fought for her life over a Christmas ham. Ugh. Just thinking about ham brought the salty taste of it rushing to their mouth, even while their tongue was drenched in custardy bliss. How could they have eaten and drank so much that day, and yet still be able to make out individual flavours from food they’d eaten hours ago?  

Lilith let out an involuntary groan.  

Nadja tilted her head up, and Oli looked over from the armchair. No sign of movement from Rex, which either meant she hadn’t heard, or had fallen asleep in a pile on the beanbag. 

“Would you shut up about your stupid stomach?” Nadja complained, straightening up and stretching her arms out in front of her. 

“I didn’t say anything,” Lilith whispered. 

“What did you expect to happen?” Apparently, Rex hadn’t fallen asleep, because she propped her head up, digging an elbow into the beanbag.  

Lilith gasped in mock outrage. “Excuse me. You’re one to talk over there.” 

“I stopped eating when I was full!” Rex pointed out. “You’ve had three huge mugs of what is essentially a liquid dessert, and now it’s all just sloshing and swirling around in there –” 

“No.” Lilith splayed a hand on their belly to stop it shaking while they laughed. “Stop describing it. I can feel it.” 

“Sloshing,” Oli agreed from the armchair, teasing the word out, “and churning –” 

Lilith twisted slightly to rest their head on Nadja’s shoulder, but where Lilith had melted when she’d done it to them, she stiffened.  

“Do not puke on my Christmas clothes,” was all Nadja had to say. 

“Okay,” Lilith sighed miserably, slumping away from her. 

“Rex, I’m going to need to get a closer look at those nails.” 

There was some shuffling around as Rex got up from the beanbag, swapping places with Oli so she could sit in the armchair and let Nadja examine her snowflake nails across the armrests. 

“So cool,” Nadja said softly. “I didn’t know you could use magic to make things pretty.” 

As Lilith expected her to, Rex flinched from the slightest possibility of being praised. “People don’t usually need it to make things pretty. If I was a more creative person, I wouldn’t need magic to make something like this.” 

“You still had to have the vision to make it,” Nadja pointed out. 

Lilith smiled to themself. 

“And what are you talking about? You have a homeware line and a jewellery line!” Nadja exclaimed. “You’re probably the most creative person I’ve ever met.” 

Rex inclined her head. She reached out to the side, seeking Oli’s hand. “Well, I wouldn’t be able to make any of my designs real if it weren’t for this one.” 

Oli took the offered hand and rested her cheek against it, but her focus was entirely on Nadja. 

“What do you do, Nadja?” 

“Me? I work for a non-profit. Um... It’s a lot of spreadsheets and numbers and emails. I – I studied accounting in university, so...” 

“No kidding,” Oli chimed in. “You like numbers?” 

“I do! But, um, I’m trying to find a new job. There’s this guy… this man I dated, even though we work together. Um, anyway, it didn’t work out, so now it’s just…” 

Lilith blinked. They felt a surge of sickness in their stomach, so strong that their mouth watered. Stephen… Stephen worked at the same non-profit as Nadja? The two of them had dated for over a year. How had Lilith not known that they worked in the same place? 

Probably because even when they were Lilith the Sibling, they never really stopped being Lilith the Witch, Lilith the Warrior, Lilith the Agent – 

As quietly as they could, Lilith twisted so that they could rest their cheek on the back of the couch. They hugged a cushion shaped like a gingerbread man to their stomach. 

“Seeing him every day is –” 

A sharp, rolling cramp made Lilith wince, but they bit back the urge to groan.  

“It’s just – it’s been hard. And I just want out of there.” 

“Something new will come along,” Oli said brightly. “And if you ever need any C.V. help, I’m your girl.” 

“That would be so helpful. Thank you.” There was a little pause, only movie noises, for a couple of seconds. “I think Lilith’s out.” 

Lilith hadn’t realised they’d closed their eyes until they heard that. After laying down the dual swords of Lilith the Friend and Lilith the Sibling, it turned out that they were just...

Exhausted.

Despite the speculation, they weren’t even close to sleep, and probably wouldn't be for hours. But sinking down into the softness of the couch, listening to their friends chatting, feeling how warm and full their stomach was, was far easier than fighting any of it. 

And Lilith was so, so sick of fighting. 

“And I thought I’d be the first one to go,” Rex whispered with a giggle. “I’m getting some more prosecco. Anybody want some?” 

[chapel-of-rizztual]

❛ wait, you think i’m cute? ❜ with MountRain? What do you say?

My

“Wait, you think I’m cute?” 

Rain looked up at Mountain with wide eyes. 

Mountain flopped down on sofa next to Rain.

“I always think you’re cute, but you’re especially cute right now.” 

Mountain had finished his chores early for once and decided to chill out in the ghouls den, take full advantage of having the tv all to himself, have first dibs on the good snacks, but his plans were derailed when he found Rain curled up on the sofa watching finding nemo,  wrapped in a blanket. When Mountain got closer he noticed it was his blanket, sage green with little sheep on it, and it had been on his bed this morning when he left. 

Rain pulls the blanket tighter around himself.

“I don’t-what exactly about me is cute right now?” 

Mountain shrugs. 

“I don’t know exactly. You just look cozy.” He opens his arms out. “Wanna cuddle?” 

Rain let’s out a small thrill and practically jumps into Mountains open arms, letting himself be pulled into his lap. The blanket slips a little from his hold revealing his bare shoulder. 

Mountain let’s put a small chuckle, kissing along Rains bare shoulder. 

“Are you even wearing clothes under there?” 

Rain signs, resting his head on Mountains shoulder. 

“No.” He sighs again. “Clothes are not my friend today.” 

“Oh, one of them day, hmm?” Mountain runs a hand though Rains hair. 

Rain hums.

“Not even that really ugly shirt of Swiss’ that you love? That not even your friend today?” 

Rain pouts up to him. 

“It’s in the washing machine.” 

“Ah, I see. And you thought my blanket was a good enough substitute?” 

Rain hums again, rubbing the fabric of the blanket against his cheek.

“Soft and smells like you.” He continues rubbing the fabric against his cheek, purring now. “Safe.” 

Mountain feels his heart melting at Rains little confession, hugging the ghoul in his lap a little tighter. He places a kiss on his head, right between his horns, making Rain thrill as looks up at the earth ghoul. 

“Love you, Mounty.” 

It was Mountains turn to thrill, pressing his forehead against Rains. 

“Love you too, tadpole.”