#seriously just dm me if you wanna continue talking about it

[ethereal-mists]

💀I have CPTSD and have had it for a very long time. I've had years of therapy, and had to learn about it in order to understand why I feel things the way I do, and work around that. That's how I know about it. I have a very severe case of it and it has impacted my life heavily, so I have to know these things.

Also... I'm not trying to 'diagnose' (if you can even diagnose a fictional character). If anything, I'm pointing out symptoms. You misunderstood the post and keep jumping to assumptions. Just like you misunderstood how those symptoms of CPTSD work when you tried to talk about it (For example, implying that people with CPTSD can't form relationships - which is pretty insensitive tbh but I figure that comes from not understanding rather than anything rude). I mean, it's sweet that you care so much about it. I mean that genuinely. But as someone who has intimate experience with how those symptoms actually present... I'm telling you, it's a little different than how you're picturing it. (There are some really good sites that talk about the way some of the symptoms present socially if you're interested)

You may have included a source but it really seems like you don't grasp exactly what those things mean. It's one thing to read something, but understanding it is another. I don't care about 'debunking' what you're saying, especially when you're getting weirdly aggressive over this. I'm not trying to attack you. I don't want to make you angry. You clearly care a lot about mental health and awareness, and that's something I respect deeply, but I'm not gonna try and debate with someone that's just trying to look for a fight.

"please use basic reading comprehension instead of purposefully officiating the point." This was basically my point from the start. The OG post isn't what you were making it out to be. I got off topic and sucked into a pointless argument.

I'm sorry if this whole thing upset you. That really wasn't my intention. I don't want to fight. I don't want to keep spamming that BG3 account's notifications with drama. If you want to talk or debate or share resources, you can DM me if you like. This kind of topic is pretty interesting to me and it's nice to see someone else that's passionate about CPTSD awareness

Thinking about Astarion and trauma again (shocking)

He really is the first character I've seen that depicts PTSD/C-PTSD the way he does. He's angry. He's collecting the pieces of himself he had to chip away over the years and figuring out how to fit them back together again, and it's hard.

I rarely see good PTSD rep in media (and C-PTSD is even less depicted/understood). And when I do, it's always the soft pitiable side of it. The side of it that's more palatable and easy to accept. But the reality is that the trauma that stems from such abuse can be vicious, and messy. It can lash out and push people away. Bring out the worst in you, at times. It can be so, so angry.

I love that we see that in Astarion. Both because it's good representation, and because I'm a survivor too. I'm angry. I'm upset. I want to kick and scream about it, but I can't. I feel like I must always remain in control, or that displaying those feelings will only hurt those around me and push them away. I don't want that. I don't want to hurt others or be alone.

Seeing Astarion do those things, being angry and messy over it all... It makes me so happy. He says things to Cazador I wish I could say to my own abusers, with no regard to how others perceive it. He doesn't hold back. And I get to see a character with a very similar kind of trauma do/say the things I only dream about, and not be abandoned for it. He's given the chance to heal and grow as a person, and feel loved. He gets to have a happy ending.

And he gets to be mad. And that's ok.

[wintersoldiersoul]

Slowly

A/N: I think this might be the beginning of a little series.. let me know if you guys would want more of this! Also, this story mentions a past sexual assault of the reader (not in detail) but I just want you guys to know that if you ever need a safe space, my DMs are always open. It's something I've experienced and the experiences that the reader has had are very similar to my own. Please reach out if you ever need anything <3

Warnings: mention of a past sexual assalult, angst, fluff

“Y/N is going on a daaateee!” Wanda sang, running into the living room, you and Natasha following behind. 

Her statement turned the attention of Steve, Sam, and Bucky who were sitting on the couch. “A date, huh?” Steve asked. “With who?”

You laughed awkwardly. “Just a guy I met at the bar,” you shrugged. When your random bar makeout from last week had invited you to dinner, you didn’t wanna say yes. But with a little bit of peer pressure from the two women standing with you, you had reluctantly agreed.

Your eyes were on Bucky, whose eyes were on his phone. Why would you expect him to care that you were going on a date? Your feelings for him clearly weren’t reciprocated and you needed to move on. It was never going to happen.

The three of you moved to the living room to sit with the guys as you began to be bombarded with questions and comments. You swore that sometimes the adult superheros acted like middle schoolers, cheering like children when someone had any sort of development in their love life.

“So are you finally gonna have sex with someone?” Sam teased. You weren’t a virgin by any means, but it had been a while. A fact that the team loved to tease you about whenever you were stressed.

“No,” you said, simply not in the mood to be interrogated about your love life. “I don’t even know if I like him. We just kissed in a bar.”

“You’re gonna fall in love, and get married and have so many kids together,” Sam continued, his tone full of mockery. 

You weren’t necessarily embarrassed about your sex life. You didn’t care that it had been a while since you’d been with someone. It wasn’t like you hadn’t had the opportunity. It was just hard for you to trust. Ever since you had been assaulted, you didn’t wanna have sex with a stranger. You never told the team about the assault, not wanting to face the sympathetic looks. It wasn’t like they could do anything about it anyways. 

“That’s not gonna happen,” you said monotonously.

“Y/N, you’re gonna bang him and then be so happy and uplifted. Maybe you’ll actually get some sleep at night,” Steve joined in.

“Guys, seriously, stop.” You tried to prevent yourself from getting annoyed to the point of anger, but they were pushing your buttons. Even if they didn’t know the full reason you didn’t wanna talk about it, you were telling them to stop and that should have been enough. It was clear you didn’t wanna talk about this and that you didn’t even wanna go on the date at all but they just couldn’t help themselves from joking like a bunch of teenagers.

“We’re just so happy for you and all of the sex you’re gonna be having!” Sam said.

That’s when Bucky turned his head. “Guys, she said she doesn’t wanna talk about it, okay?”

Your heart fluttered when he defended you. You had tried your best to control your feelings for Bucky but the organ in your chest betrayed you. Every day you fell a little bit more in love with him. You just couldn’t help yourself. What had started as a harmless crush had turned into a gut-wrenching unrequited love story that tore you apart every time you saw or spoke to him.

“Let us celebrate!” Sam said. “Y/N’s gonna get fucked!”

You stood up quickly and walked away, anger reverberating in every step you took back to your room. You didn’t even wanna go on this stupid date and you sure as hell didn’t wanna have sex with a stranger. You wished you could do it. You wished you could have your mind and confidence back, the way you did before the assault. But it had ruined your trust. The one time you tried to have sex with a stranger ended in a panic attack and you getting out of his apartment as quickly as possible.

“Assholes,” Bucky muttered, standing up to follow you and make sure you were okay. He reached your door a second after you, stopping the door as you tried to close it. “You okay?”

“Yup.”

He followed you and sat next to you on the bed when you did the same. “Just ignore them. They think they’re funny,” he laughed.

You gave him a closed-mouth smile. “I just wish they’d actually stop when I tell them to, you know? I know they don’t mean to hurt me and it’s not like they know…” you trailed off before you said too much.

“What?” Bucky asked.

“Nothing, nothing. It doesn’t matter.”

But Bucky could read you like a book. Despite your feelings that he’d never like you back, he did. In fact, he loved you as much as you loved him, which led him to usually being quiet and reserved in your presence. He always had his eyes on you when you weren’t looking, silently wishing he could just work up the courage to ask you out. “Something’s bothering you, I can tell,” he said.

“And how would you know?” You said, raising an eyebrow.

“Because I know you. Better than you think I do.” 

His words rendered you speechless as you stared into his eyes. God, what was it about this man that just made you want to open up? “I…” you hesitated. You had been holding this secret for so long, you didn’t know how it would feel to share it. “I was sexually assaulted last year. I’ve tried to have sex since but it ended badly,” you took a deep breath. You were not going to cry in front of him. “I think it messed me up more than I thought it did. I feel… broken, I guess? Like, it feels like everyone else in the world can have a one night stand no problem but for me, I just can’t. And it makes me feel bad about myself.”

Bucky stared at you as you spoke. “Y/N, you are not broken,” he said with conviction. “You went through something traumatic. It makes complete sense that it’s hard for you.” He stared so deep into your eyes.

“Thanks,” you said, honestly just wanting to move past the conversation. “It’s fine. I just wasn’t in the mood for jokes.”

He lifted his hand up, brushing your hair behind your ear. Your heart pounded in your chest. “It’s not fine, though. Have you told anyone else? You shouldn’t deal with that alone.”

You sighed. Maybe he was right, but still you couldn’t find the energy to have that conversation right now. “Why do you even care, Bucky?”

“Because I’m in love with you, goddamn it!” 

You were speechless. This had to be some kind of joke. He had figured out your little crush and just wanted to fuck with you. Make a fool out of you. “Don’t be mean, Bucky.”

“Mean?” He said. “Why do you think I never talk to you? You make me so nervous I never know what to say. I have to stop myself from blurting out how fucking beautiful you are. God, when I’m around you it’s like… I feel like myself again.” The look in his blue eyes told you that he was telling the truth.

“Bucky, I.. I love you too. I have for a while.”

His breathing sped up as his hand remained on your face. “Can I kiss you?”

“Yes.”

His lips were on yours in an instant. His tongue made his way into your mouth, kissing you feverishly. You were both desperate for each other, desperate for the love and affection that had been missing from your lives. 

“W-wait,” he said, removing his lips from yours. “I don’t want to do anything you’re not comfortable with. I mean, you just told me you were sexually assaulted. I don’t wanna rush you into anything. I think we should just take this slow.” 

You nearly cried but stopped yourself. How was this real? How was it possible that the man you had been secretly loving for so long actually felt the same? And how was it possible that he was so respectful? So caring?

“T-thank you. I really needed to hear that, Buck.”

He smiled. “I want you to trust me, fully. If we’re gonna do this… if you want to, that is, we’re gonna do this right. We’re gonna go to dinner and I’m gonna spoil you like you deserve. And we’re gonna take everything at your pace, okay?”

“I-I don’t wanna disappoint you, Bucky. It might take me a while to be…fully comfortable.”

He grabbed your face in both of his hands. “Listen to me. You could never disappoint me. Get that thought out of your head.”

You bit your lip and nodded.

“Now do me a favor,” he whispered. “Cancel that damn date.”

[solarnomoon]

get a guitar - lee heeseung

your boyfriend every third thursday/best friend not boyfriend/(not-so) secret crush, heeseung, gets a little too tipsy for you.

pairing >>> heeseung x male reader

tags >>> college au, alcohol consumption, confessing feelings???, misunderstanding, slight angst, fluff, comfort, (not super) drunk hee, suggestive content

author's note >>> i have a few things to say. first, this was inspired by drunk heeseung hello he's adorable ･ﾟ･(｡>ω<｡)･ﾟ･ and second, i rly liked riize's debut song! and ik, it's supposed to be fun and innocent, but it's fun to think there's more to it!

the rattling of your bedside table was not uncommon for you to be awakened by, but was what uncommon was the fact that as you open your eyes to silence your phone from the blasting alarm, there was no light that peered through the curtains, causing you to groan at being woken up so early.

you reach for your phone and see who dared to wake you from your slumber, and after your eyes adjusted to the bright light, you immediately pick up seeing sunghoon’s name. you figured it was important as sunghoon has never once called you, the reason being as he hates calling and only texts, dms, hell, even replies on twitter.

“hello?”

“h-hey y/n!” the voice that rang through was not sunghoon, now keeping in mind that technically, sunghoon had still never rung you. “what’s going oonnn!”

it’s not like you didn’t recognize the voice though, “sunoo? not much, but it’s fucking… 1:30 in the morning, what’s up?” you slowly sit up, rubbing your eyes after flipping the on switch for your ambient lamp next to you.

“heyy, so, basically we all went out as you know, and oh em gee, you have to look at the pictures we took, they are SO funny…” you hear someone else’s voice in the background to tell him to focus, whom you can only assume is jay. “sorrryyy, anyway we called because your little lover boy over here is like, a little like, too fucked up.”

“heeseung? and he’s not my lover boy.”

“notice how i didn’t say a name~” the guy over the phone just giggles, you letting out a sigh after hearing that heeseung might’ve gotten himself in trouble. “anyway, his roommate has his fuckbuddy over, probably getting her pregnant. he’s so fucking irresponsible with condoms, agh, i hate him!” the sudden outburst from sunoo makes you snort, the love-hate relationship they have is probably one of the most entertaining things you’ve seen in a while.

“it’s okay, sun, tell me how much you hate ‘lix later.”

an audible gasp is heard through the phone, with sunoo adding, “ugh, i hate that you’re friends with that stupid australian!”

“felix is not a bad guy, sunoo, and you know this too.” you take this opportunity to tease him back, “plus, you’re just jealous that he’s not fucking you instead, don’t lie.”

“not the point y/n. the real point is, can seung stay at yours? i know your roommate is out for the weekend, and none of us have space for him.” he pauses for a few seconds, then jay tells him to ‘tell y/n the other thing!’ sunoo lets out a noise of agreement, then continues. “he also has been asking about you all night. like, i mean literally talking about you every moment of his life. so i think it’s time to just give him what he wants…”

“he’s been asking about me?”

“uhh, when is he not? seriously, when are you guys gonna get together?”

“you know he doesn’t like me like th-“

this time, sunoo lets out a sigh, interrupting your sentence. “i don’t wanna get into this with you, we’re coming to your dorm.”

“but i didn’t say you c-“ and with that, your dorm room opens wide open, with heeseung holding on to jay’s shoulder to keep himself up. “-ould come."

after jay puts him down onto your chair, sunoo and jungwon walk in the room as well, with jungwon giving you a wave while sunoo gives you a hug. "he's your responsibility now, y/n. we couldn't get him to go anywhere else to be honest..." jay admits, his hand reaching to the back of his neck.

"it's... fine, just go have fun and enjoy the rest of your night. i can take care of heeseung." at the sound of his name, the guy looks over to you, mouth forming a wide smile when he recognizes your face.

"hey you, just the man i was looking for!" heeseung stands up from the chair and practically jumps into your bed with you, hugging you by the waist while his lower body stays on the floor. you nod to the other three, signalling them to leave, with jungwon and jay giving you a sheepish smile. sunoo on the other hand just wiggles his eyebrows and does the "salt shaking" motion, then leaves with them, shutting the door behind him.

you place your hands on heeseung's head and angle his face as to look at him, immediately feeling the warmth of his cheeks. as he looks up at you, you notice that he has a natural red glow, presumably from the alcohol he had consumed. "jeez, how much have you drank?"

he puts his fingers into a pinch, "a little bit." he removes his other hand from your waist to match the pinch, "just a little, a little." he puts his hand into a motion as if he's drinking a cup, signaling to you that he drank (as if you didn't already know that...) "actually, i drank a little."

"yeah, heard you the first... and second... and third time, heeseung. do you want some water?" you lean over to your bedside table to grab your water bottle, but when you try to hand it to him, he pushes it away. "you don't want?"

"i only want it if you drink it first!" he grins at you, confidence filling his voice all of a sudden.

"dude, how can you drink it if i drink it?"

"easy, you just pour it from your mouth into mine."

"what are you fucking talking about?"

heeseung gets up from the floor and sits next to you, leaning over to have his head on your lap. "it would be really easy like this, you just pour it into your mouth and then drip it into mine..." he wraps his arms around your waist again, putting his face into your shirt. "or, you could just kiss me with the water in your mouth."

you thought you heard him wrong, with the fact that he muttered his last sentence into your shirt, but after asking him to repeat it, you realize that what you heard was what he said. "...heeseung, i thi-" a muffled whine interrupts your sentence, and for a second, your heart squeezes, nervous that whine was one out of pain (definitely not because you liked the way it sounded coming from him). "heeseung?"

another whine erupts from his mouth, but before you could ask again, he answers, "stop calling me that, y/n."

"dude, you know that's your name, right?"

the movement was so quick that you didn't even know his drunk self could manage it, but in the blink of an eye, the positions had changed to where you were sitting in his lap, his arms wrapped around your waist still, but his face laying on your back. "but that's not what you call me."

"what are you talking about, seungie?" and with that, you could literally feel the muscles on his face form a slight smile, his face pressing harder into your back. after that, he removed it, putting his lips oddly close to your neck.

"that's my boy, much better..." his lips graze the bottom of your ear, before moving to the side of your neck, planting a small kiss. "so much better."

the minute you felt his lips on your skin, your instinct was to push away, your pulse quickening, and the area on the back of your neck tingling like sparks. "hey, don't fucking do that!" you looked back to scold him, but the tiny pout on his face made you soften up. "just... you can't do that kind of shit... not when..." i'm practically in love with you, you had wanted to say, and although heeseung was drunk, you couldn't take that chance of him remembering in the morning and prematurely ruining the friendship.

you knew it was bound to happen. it was only a matter of time before he found out himself or your feelings had grown immense amounts to the point where you couldn't take it anymore. either way was a lose-lose situation, but even knowing this, you couldn't lose heeseung as a friend, or a sort of fake lover the way he had treated you.

in fact, it was how he had treated you that made this impossible. he clung to you like a fucking leech. you and him were rarely seen without the other, and everyone around knew that if you invited one, you had to invite the other.

he'd play stupid horror games on roblox late at night with you, running halfway across campus the minute you said you were too scared to continue, and he'd hold you in his arms as you slept until dawn.

he'd invite you to his dorm and watch rom-coms with all of your favorite snacks, ramen that he had cooked for both of you guys, and heated blankets, massaging your back as you watched together while you laughed at the stupid jokes, periodically asking you if those pick-ups lines would work if someone used them on you.

he'd pick you up to go to a fancy dinner date, paying for your entire meal, then afterwards, bring you on a drive to the scenic areas and talk deep conversations with you as you guys admitted shit you never had before, discussing innate and learned fears, future plans, and why the earth revolved around the sun.

if you guys were dating, heeseung would be the absolute perfect boyfriend. he brought you to theme parks, county fairs, arcades, family meetups, holidays, pretty much everywhere. you couldn't imagine life without him, he was a staple to your life, and everyone knew you guys were practically inseparable.

but you and heeseung weren't dating. you had done all of these things in the past few months out of pure best-friendcy. and yet, you didn't want to lose this intimacy with him.

"not when you what, y/n?" heeseung leans to the side so you could see his face, curiosity floating in his eyes as he gazes at you.

"...not when you're drunk, heeseung."

"i'm not fucking drunk. and didn't i tell you to stop calling me that? it doesn't sound right coming out of your mouth." heeseung strengthens his grip around you, pulling you closer into him, as if he let go, you would fall out of his life for good.

"heeseung, you have to let go, you drank too much and you don't know what you're doing," before you could even realize it, your voice had started raising in volume and desperation little by little, "and it's like this isn't normal best friend behavior and i feel like i'm trapped in this fucking bubble of keeping to myself because i don't want to ruin us but i can't just leave you because you're so fucking important to me and i just!" you hold your breath, not knowing what to say next. "i just think it's unfair..."

you didn't even realize you were crying until heeseung was wiping the tears away with his hands, leaving small kisses on the top of your head. "hey, hey, baby..." heeseung whispered, making you even angrier. you turn around in his lap, hitting his chest.

"heeseung! don't even fucking call me that right now! that's part of the problem, you don't call your best friend that! stop fucking playing with my feelings!" you then grab his shirt and cry into it, muttering the last part, "if you wanna play with something, play with that stupid fucking guitar you have, not me..."

he chuckles softly at your sentence, but before you scold him for laughing at a time like this, he gently presses his lips against yours, encapsulating you into a slow, loving kiss. instead of fighting back, you lean into him, allowing yourself to be taken by his soft lips, kissing back with just as gentle of pressure, not wanting to be overwhelmed by a feeling you have dreamed of since you met the man.

as he pulls away, he wipes the tears stained on your cheek with his thumb lovingly, leaving his hands on your face. "you've been wanting to say all of that for a while huh? i feel like that outburst has been building up overtime." you just nod, not knowing what to say. "y/n, i swear to god, we've been dating. maybe not officially boyfriends, but dating." the confusion on your face must've been extremely evident, because he squishing his eyebrows together in retaliation. "you... you know i'm like... in love with you right...? right?"

"huh?" you sniffle, the tears stopping from the perplexed feeling overtaking your sadness. "you've never asked me out!"

"yes, i did! remember, at the park, when we had a picnic and i brought strawberry soju and the whole charcuterie board. i asked you that day, i remember what i said because i wrote it down. i said 'y/n, can we take this to the next step?' and you were like, 'yes!' so i thought you knew!"

oh.

oh.

you have never felt so fucking stupid in your life.

"that's what you meant?! i thought you meant to the next step of the stairs we were on!"

heeseung just looks at you blankly, mouth ajar. after a few moments, he just laughs, the sound so loud it reverberates through the room and even rumbles the bed. "n-no fucking way! is that why you randomly picked up the fucking blanket and moved it up to the actual next step?!"

"'cause that's what i thought you meant!" you exclaimed, the anchor in your heart that you didn't even know existed being relieved the more heeseung talked.

heeseung embraces you, placing another kiss onto your lips for a second, then just hovers in front of them, looking into your eyes. "then let me make it explicitly clear. y/n, i'm so fucking in love with you. please let me be your boyfriend."

you respond to him with a kiss of your own, allowing yourself to be overtaken with the absolute relief from the dredge that had been weighing you down on your guys' relationship for weeks upon weeks now. "yes, heeseung. i'd love for you to be my boyfriend."

he just smirks, hands moving from your face down to the hem of your shirt, wanting for you to take it off, which you gladly comply with. "fucking good. been wanting to kiss you, strip you, make you mine for weeks now, but you never reciprocated, so i just thought you weren't ready..." he takes your shorts off with efficiency, not wanting to waste any time with you.

"oh yeah? aren't you still drunk, heeseung?"

"was never that drunk to begin with, just wanted to get that water thing to work, but this..." placing his hands on your thighs, he spreads your legs and pulls you closer, "this is so much fucking better."

[writingsfromhome]

Dos and Don’ts IV

A/N: hello my loves this final part to this fic completes the birth of one of my favourite fics I’ve written. Thank you for reading and enjoying it just as much—every like, comment, and dm meant the world <3

Parts: 1 / 2 / 3 / 4

—————————————————

We have an extra day in Barcelona and the team is buzzing to enjoy their nightlife since we could sleep all day tomorrow. I’d visited here while I was a uni student so I give some suggestions.

Harry’s a little on edge the whole time. Earlier today some headline from a musician Harry worked with was taken out of context and thus took the internet by storm. Now he was being flooded with people wanting to know his thoughts and feelings. It was a hot topic.

With a joint effort of me, Jeff, and Graham, we tried to keep the spotlight on his Barcelona show. Well my role was mostly to screen Harry from seeing any further discourse online.

The show itself was one of the loudest I’d been to—I was glad I had my own ear protection. The tense Harry falls away and he’s electric on stage. Even coming backstage he’s on a high; he hugs the crew and thanks everyone like he usually did at the end of shows and disappears into his dressing room with Jeff. They look like they’re talking intensely.

“So,” Sarah slides in beside me. “We noticed you’re a bit different coming back. What’s happened?”

I try to play dumb but the girls keep pushing.

“Me and my fiancé ended things,” I confess. They gasp, Claire’s eyes actually fill with tears.

“Shh!” I shush them. “Keep it on the down low please I don’t want anyone to know.”

“But y/n why are you even here!? Is it because of tour! I’m sure Harry could have rearranged things-“

“No no,” I appreciated their support but I didn’t want to hash things out. “It’s just…I think it was a long time coming. God, I don’t wanna cry. I’m good. For now. And I want to be on tour I need the distraction.”

“I get it,” they sympathize. “We’re gonna make you forget so hard tonight.”

“Okay but don’t,” I look around us to make sure there was nobody else around. “Please don’t tell Harry. Seriously please. I don’t want him to know especially. I don’t want him to treat me differently or something.”

“Lips are sealed.” Sarah zips her mouth. “But we can all tell you’re off. It’s hard not to practically living together these last couple months. If he asks we’ll say…”

“Just say she’s on a break?” Charlie suggests.

“Yeah,” I shrug. “Things are complicated, I’m on a break, whatever that’s fine.”

The girls lean towards me and envelop me in a hug. It reminds me of my friends I’d said goodbye to.

“Thanks,” I say through tears.

And the girls hold me to their promise.

After we get dressed for the night—I chose a corset-style top and trousers—we head out. The sun dips below the horizon and the old city is cast in a warm orange glow that could inspire anyone who set eyes on it. String lights come on and music plays from various doors; the city is alive.

We tease each other about looking so glam as we wander the narrow cobblestone streets. Aside from the shows we all wore sweats and tees.

Every place we pass sets my senses alight. We grab tapas from a place that smells irresistible and chat over each other about tonight’s wicked show. I continue avoiding Harry by sitting as far away from him as I can get.

As we wander off in search of the club I can’t help but feel a twinge at how incredibly romantic the moonlit streets felt.

The club is loud and alive, the noise levels even feel normal after the roar of the last few of Harry’s shows. My mood starts shooting up steadily as I drink in the energy around me.

We join the crowd and I give away my worries and my annoyances to enjoy the music. I feel it in my chest and for a blissful moment I’m grateful for my whole damn life despite everything.

“Cute guy!” Someone shouts in my ear.

Charlie nudges me to one of the guys dancing nearby. “Get distracted!”

I shake my head no.

“Do it!” She cheers. It barely travels to me. She grabs Claire’s hand and tugs her, letting her in on the plan and they goad me into going for it.

I motion a drink. I’d need another shot for the courage.

We trail back to the bar and do a round of shots, and they grin with thumbs up as I hesitantly enter the crowd again.

The dude they pointed out is tall and beautiful. Like beautiful not even handsome. I get stuck looking up at him in awe, he wasn’t really my type. A tad too pretty boy but when he notices me looking he smiles and I’m won over. I couldn’t deny a good smile.

“Hey!” He turns his body to me. At least I think he say hey.

“Hey!” I shout back.

“Que pasa?”

“What?!” I couldn’t hear a single thing. What did I expect.

He smiles and takes my hand that had been anxiously playing with the edge of my top. The other has a hand splint that I’d received in Madrid. Apparently I sprained my fingers.

The stranger wriggles both my hands to loosen them, raising his brow at the splint. I laugh.

He asks in my ear but I don’t understand. It sounds like a question, something bylar. When I scrunch my brows he laughs, “Dance! We dance!?”

“Dance!” I laugh. He was cute! “Yes! I want to dance with you!”

“Vamos,” he pulls me in. I understood that at least.

I used to do this in uni, I think. I should be able to do it again.

He teases me a little because I’m so tense. His hands knead down my back to my waist to get me to relax. It feels nice, being touched by a man that looks like he was carved from marble but filled with music.

I begin to find my rhythm and sway with him, eventually letting go completely. He compliments me as I start to move with him and pretty soon I’ve channeled my 20-year-old self. It feels pretty spectacular.

When his lips ghost my cheek I don’t protest. Right now, I felt good. Everything was on the back burner’s back burner and I felt grounded in this nighclub with this random stranger who was paying attention to me, just me. And it’s just us. And it’s just temporary. And I feel good.

When I turn around, my back to his chest, he moves my hair to the side and kisses down my neck. It felt good.

I run my hand up into his hair and he moves lower murmuring foreign words on my skin, our bodies still dancing in the same language, his hands still gripping my waist and my hips. I feel blissed out.

It ends in a split second.

“What are you doing?” Harry’s suddenly tugging me towards him. His mouth makes the words I just fill them in with his annoyingly bossy voice.

“Hey man,” the guy I’m dancing with tries to get in between us.

“What are you doing!?” I snatch my hand away from Harry.

Harry puts his hand on my partner’s chest and says something to him, maybe in Spanish. He looks at me with puppy dog eyes and I look at Harry. What had he said.

“What did you say?” I ask. I try to call back my dancing partner but he just salutes me with a smile and fades into the crowd. No wait, I’m being dragged away.

“Y/n what are you doing out there?”

“What am I doing?” I shout. “What are you?! I was having a nice time with that guy what did you say to him?”

He walks away, further back into the edges of the club. There’s a few people milling about with a number of them involved in heavy makeout sessions.

Harry turns to face me finally. “You’re engaged y/n, Claire and Sarah said things are complicated at home is that why you’re doing this?”

“What!” I throw my hands up, tears prick my eyes. What the fuck was his problem! Since when did he care? “Why do you care?! Yes, things are complicated and I was getting my mind off of said things—what is your issue? You want to drag me back here and remind me of how shitty things have been?”

“This isn’t the way,” Harry insists. “You don’t even know that guy!”

“Whatever I’m over this convo.”

I turn to leave but Harry grabs my hand, the one in the splint, and pulls me back.

“Sorry,” he lets go of the splint. Then picks it up again. “Look. I’m worried about you. This isn’t you, you’re not the girl that goes home with another guy when your fiancé is back at home! I just don’t want you making any regrets.”

“Oh is that it,” I step towards him so my hand isn’t so outstretched. He stands still but on my second step he inches back. “Since when did you get a high horse huh? Don’t tell me who I am and who I’m not. You barely know me! If I want to make decisions I regret I can do that. They’re mine to make.”

“No. Y/n, as mad as you are don’t go home with a stranger.”

“As if you don’t!” I scoff. “What’s your real agenda here? What’s going on?”

“Nothing!” He insists.

“Why do you suddenly care so much about my chastity?”

“It’s for your own good!”

He’s lying. I know he’s lying and I don’t know why he pulled me away from my beautiful Spanish dance partner but I was actually relaxing and now he’s put me right back into this crazed and tense headspace I kept finding myself in.

Fine, I decide. I could make him regret it.

“Really? You care about my morality that much?” I ask.

With my hand flat on his chest I’ve pushed him further into the wall behind him. He watches me with a guarded look.

But I want him unguarded, vulnerable. The same way he’s made me feel. I lean in, “Are you really worried about the technicalities of me cheating on my fiancé?”

I hover a half foot from his lips. Finally his eyes flicker down to my lips and I know I’ve got him.

I slide my hand up his chest and when my hand inches up the skin of his throat his eyes grow unguarded and heady with lust. He doesn’t push me away. He doesn’t say no.

Hypocrite.

I drop my hand.

“That’s what I thought Mr. Styles.”

I watch for a wonderful moment as the lust clears from his eyes and he realizes what happened. Shame, embarrassment, resignation, and then anger.

I spin on my heel and head away from him. He could deal with the consequences of his actions all on his own.

I’m half-afraid he’ll come after me but luckily I make it out of the club alone.

“He’s such a dick,” I say more to myself. Just to get it out because I’m pissed. “Who the fuck does he think he is!?”

My night is over. I just want to take this all off and forget about it. Maybe I can lock myself in my room and raid the mini-fridge, get drunk and cry myself to sleep. Those seemed like the best options right now.

I take an uber to the hotel. As I walk up to it I notice a weird crowd outside. For nearly 2am I wasn’t expecting this and my instincts kick in that this wasn’t normal. Especially when I notice all the camera straps.

“Excuse me,” I ask the front desk. “Why are there a bunch of paparazzi outside?”

“Is there?” The man behind the counter asks. “Sorry we will tell them to leave. Are you staying with us?”

“That’s a privacy concern out there, and a concern with your staff because they’re here. How do they know who’s staying here?!”

It seems to dawn on him I wasn’t just asking out of curiosity. He promises me he’ll get management. In the meantime I call Jeff and explain the situation. He starts to panic the way I hated, looking for something to blame. He calls Graham who sounds like he’s driving in nascar. It’s a very noisy and over-stimulating conversation.

“Call Harry!” Jeff orders. “Tell him he cannot go back to the hotel no matter what! Fucking vultures man!”

“Y/N,” Graham says in a calmer voice. “You need to go back to where Harry is with some sort of disguise. A hat or sunglasses. That sort of thing-“

“It’s night.”

“Yes night. No glasses. Book the closest hotel you can find. Tell his band they can come back, but to go through the back. They might get spotted but they’re trained on dodging questions. That will keep the vultures there waiting for Harry and we can pick you two up back to the airport tomorrow morning. Where’s after this?”

“Glasgow,” I bite my nail as I think. I had to call Harry asap. What if he was on his way back. “I gotta go now to call him though. Talk later.”

I hang up and call Harry. He picks up the second time.

I explain the situation and he reacts the same way as Jeff, swearing and cursing the papps. I tell him what I was going to do and tell him to go right back into the club. To pass on the word to the team even though I was going to send them a text.

I head up to my room and grab what fits in my bag. I didn’t have Harry’s room key so I decide he’d have to wear my hat and head back out. The vultures stay waiting, now just a few feet further away from the entrance.

I speak briefly to management—I figured Jeff could talk to them and give his classic earful.

On the drive I find a nearby hotel to the club and collect Harry to get him there. We’re too tense to talk when we meet up. Once inside again, I tell him to sit in the lounge while I go up to the desk.

Act above it all, I channel a rich bitch. We needed privacy and we needed nobody to know Harry was here.

“Hi I need a room.” I say.

“Of course, how many night will you be staying with us.”

I glance back to see where Harry sits. He’s in a wingback chair that’s mostly turned away and with his hair stuffed in the baseball cap you can hardly tell it’s him.

“Just a night. I need your best room please.”

“Absolutely,” the woman smiles and I feel bad for only giving a tight-lipped smile back. I wait as she clicks away, finally looking back to me with a slight frown. “So miss unfortunately we are very booked tonight. There are a couple events going on in the city making things very popular.”

“The best room will do. Preferably large.”

“Well,” she hesitates. “A lot of our larger rooms are taken um. I can offer you a bed with one king, it is a bit smaller because it’s by the elevators. I also have one with a queen that is tucked away in the corner with a better view.”

I wanted to be as far away from Harry as possible but by an elevator was asking for trouble.

“Well, I’d rather stay far away from noise so we’ll take the queen.”

“Is that just you or…” she glances at Harry.

“Yes. Two. We’ve had a rough day of travel he’s just resting.”

I hand over ID and my card, trying not to balk at the total. At least I’ll get reimbursed.

“Do you have any bags?” The concierge swoops in as I get the key card.

“No! No. Like I said, bad travel day. We just need somewhere to sleep and we’ll reunite with the bags once they arrive tomorrow.”

They leave us alone after that. I hoped it was because I’d been standoffish enough and not plain weird.

The elevator ride up to the 8th floor is stony and I spend the spare second to text Jeff and Graham the hotel’s address.

The room itself is pretty sub-par and the adrenaline of getting Harry here safely wears off.

I drop my bag by the door and pull out my toiletry bag.

“I don’t have clothes for you to change into, I didn’t have your room key.”

“Yeah. S’fine. I’ll just sleep shirtless unless that bothers you.”

We stare at each other for a tense moment.

“I’m fine with that, you’re the one with the high horse.”

After doing all this for him I wasn’t going to be easy to deal with if he wasn’t going to be easy to deal with.

He chooses to ignore me.

“How the fuck did they know I was staying there? We were under a-“

His phone rings and he answers. Sounds like Jeff.

I use the time to go to the bathroom and finally take off the makeup. I realize I should have grabbed my pjs from my bag too. I take my hair down and massage my scalp with my fingers, letting myself calm down despite the aggressive voices outside.

“Yeah whatever. Keep me updated.” I hear. Great. That was done with.

I leave the bathroom and Harry’s still pacing the floor.

“You’re gonna wear the carpet down if you keep doing that.”

He stops and looks at me, his eyes trail down my body.

“You didn’t bring yourself a change of clothes either?”

“You wish,” I head for my bag again and grab the tee and shorts. “I just forgot them out here.”

“Do you always have to be so snarky?”

Oh, so he wanted to fight. Good news for him, so did I.

“Depends. With you? When you’re being a dick? Yeah. I do.”

“It’s really quite unbecoming.”

“Is it?” I mock his accent. “It’s not proper for a lady to be snarky?”

“I don’t sound like that. You just never let anything go.” He continues.

“I never let anything go?” I repeat.

“Yeah! Ever!”

“What do you want me to let go?” I ask.

“Everything. You’re bothered by everything just let it all fucking go.”

“No like specifically what should I let go?” I turn on him and with each question I stalk towards him. “Being treated like trash by you? Being told I’m replaceable and unnecessary? Getting bossed around about who I can and can’t dance with because you suddenly decide to be the morality police!?”

“Jesus take it down a notch y/n.” We’re fuming as we square off. “I’m not your bloody fiancé.”

“And thank fuck you’re not!” I throw the clothes in my hand on the bed. “You’re my employer Mr. Styles and I’ve been nothing but a good fucking employee for the last year! I try to keep my patience and do everything I can to do my best! You’re the one always trying to blur lines! You’re the one always getting in my damn business when I don’t pay you to!”

With every accusation I poke my finger into his chest and it’s like literally pushing buttons. His face gets stonier and stonier until I’m sure he’s going to crack.

“You wanna know what your fucking issue is?” He swipes my hand away.

“Oh sure tell me, wise Harry Styles who definitely has no issues at all. Tell me.”

“This. This is your fucking issue,” he spits. “You’ve always got such a temper on you! I’m not blurring any bloody lines I check up on you and you get all offended over nothing!”

“Over nothing?” I ask. I laugh sarcastically and walk away from him. I was seeing red. “Over nothing?”

“Yes! I don’t do shite and suddenly you’re trying to bite my dick off.”

“You fucking wish,” I turn on him. “It’s crazy you don’t realize what an absolute jackass you are! We should be refunding all those fans who’ve come out to see you because the man they’re paying for is a fake! You’ve treated me like nothing and embarrassed me countless time-“

“Embarrassed you,” he scoffs.

“Yes!” I go on. “What do you call what you said on our way to Paris huh? You can be so cruel! So if I have a temper it’s justified because you’re one of the worst people I’ve met!”

“What did I say?”

“Are you kidding? You’re going to make me repeat it?” He was crazy. He was depraved and absolutely insane. Or he just hated me.

“I’m not playing a game just tell me!”

“You said I could have skipped the whole tour and nobody would notice.” I say the words that had looped through my head. And of course, he has the audacity to look surprised. “Thanks. A lot! It makes it even worse that you were so casual with your cruelt-“

“You need to stop being so sensitive,” he has the nerve to say. “Then maybe you can manage your temper.”

“I can manage my temper any time but you’re moody like a pre-pubescent teen and that looks to be a lifetime fucking problem!”

“What’s your fucking problem Y/n! What is your problem with me!? Why do you still work for me if you are this angry all the time!”

“I’m not this angry all the time, you just makes me this angry! And I hate you for it!”

“Then quit!”

“Maybe I will!” I had to. After tonight and this blowout I had to. How could I work for Harry like this.

“Great! Then you can take your problems with you.”

“Don’t gaslight me,” how dare he. “You’re not innocent in this! You create my problems and blame me for being this way.”

“Whatever y/n.”

“No.” I wasn’t letting him off the hook. I get in his face again. “Why did you stop me tonight? Why did you keep me from doing what I wanted tonight?”

“What? I told you I was looking out-“

“Bullshit!” I cut him off. “That’s a bullshit excuse, I want to know why!?”

I feel like I’m made of flames and in desperate need of a lobotomy. How could one guy make me this crazy. How could it all revolve around him.

“I was doing it for your own good! But clearly I understand why it’s so fucking complicated with your partner-“

“Don’t you dare talk about him,” I seethe. I was mad. Fuming. I want to get physical, I wish I could throttle him or at the very least access one of the pillows from across the room and smash it to the floor. I want him to see how angry I am because my words are twisted with every angle Harry could find. I wanted him to admit to something he’s been skirting for a long time. “Tell me.”

Harry stares at me with hate in his eyes and I know I have the same look. I wasn’t going to let him get away.

“You don’t even have the balls to admit it,” I poke. “Is this why you’re so hard-headed to anything I say? Because you can’t even admit something like this to yourself?”

“Just shut the fuck up y/n and stop being so mental.”

“I refuse to shut up. I want you to talk.”

His breathing gets faster and I watch him flex his hand. He was as angry as I was. Good.

“You’re a fraud. And I hate you.” I step into his space. Our bodies are a hair’s breadth away from each other’s. I want to show him how mad he makes me. I want to do something. I want him to admit this thing he’s been dancing around. It makes me so mad!

When he starts to shake his head at me I lose it. Instinct takes over where I want to physically show him how angry he was making me. I grab his face in my hands and push my mouth against his. I meet teeth.

But it doesn’t take long for him to respond. To correct the unadulterated anger with purpose.

He pushes back, kissing me harder whilst pushing me against the wall. I feel sandwiched, my chest crushed against his and I bite down on his lip trying to get back some control.

My hands are all over him, grabbing his shirt, running through his hair, pushing under his shirt to touch skin. Harry does the same, pulling at my hair and lifting me onto him.

Our tongues clash together, his hand grabs my ass, squeezing and moving up. His hands feel hot on my skin, his metal rings an icy contrast. Neither of us want to give up control. We keep fighting, just now with our bodies.

“Why can’t you ever just let it go,” he traces his teeth over my collarbone. It all feels too much.

In response I push him back, he stares at me for a heated second before we crash into each other again. We don't care where we are. All that mattered was here and showing the other who was in control. Who hated who the most.

Harry pulls away, his mouth a deep pink from our fight. His eyes are half lidded, his pupils dilated. I can tell he wants this but a part of him hesitates.

"We're doing this," I commit, not taking my eyes off his lips.

"I’m doing this," he growls and lifts me up, any hesitancy washed away. I wrap my legs around him, not thinking about anything but what I was going to do.

He whirls me around and deposits me onto the bed, and his body covers mine while his mouth attack my neck.

He wasn't gentle or slow, but then again, I didn't want him to be. I pull off his shirt, not wanting anything between us, not caring that my nails would leave marks down his back. Leaving something permanent on him sounded exactly what I needed.

I tug on his hair as his teeth come down on my chest. I feel heated as he swears, “Teasing me with this top all night was a fucking sin y/n.”

“Fuck off,” I gasp as he figures out the row of clasps at the front and the icy rings of his fingers presses against my sternum. I grit my teeth, “I didn’t wear this for you.”

His abs contract as he pushes himself back up, his eyes dark as his hands find the clasp on my trousers, undoing them with ease and tugging them off. His other hand comes back up to tilt my chin up.

“D’you really hate me?” He asks.

“Yes,” I respond with zero hesitation.

He moves his body, covering mine with his own again. My breath catches in my throat as he presses his lips to my neck, slowly moving down. He drives me crazy with anticipation and I wriggle up to keep up the pace but he holds me in place. I let out a moan as he kisses my inner thighs, his fingers gripping the tops of them. I'm squirming under his hold, the heat pooling inside of me.

“Do you hate me?” He asks again.

“Yes,” I cry, not wanting to relent to him.

“Good,” he says and that’s the last thing I remember.

The rest is a tangle of limbs, an out-of-body sensation, and seismic wave after wave coursing through my body. It’s unlike anything I’ve experienced before; the fury we felt with each other fuzes to the passion of the moment and it blitzes every damn thought out of my head.

Hours later, or maybe the whole night later—I don’t know but all I do know was that my body was spent and I was barely hanging on.

“I can’t,” I plant my hands on his shoulders and nearly pitch forward just from pausing. His hand splays on my back, keeping me in place as he turns us around.

“Okay?” He asks low.

I nod, grateful that he was taking over.

And after riding out what I know would be my last wave he rolls off of me, and we lay there just trying to catch our breaths.

After a few minutes, I sense him tilting towards me, his eyes on my face. When he stares for so long it becomes obvious, I look back at him.

His eyes are not the same ones that started this mess, they’re breezy meadows of green compared to the icy sea glass from before. But it’s not surprising. With each round and each minute we spent with other tonight, things had grown softer. Not gentle, but softer.

And as we look at each other with the awareness that the anger had bled into the threads of these tangled sheets a long time ago, we’re left with something neither of us want to distinguish. At least I don’t.

His gaze holds something too real for a place like this and I quickly look away and back at the ceiling. I feel his eyes on me a moment longer before he himself turns away to stare at the same ceiling.

“Y/N,” someone suddenly calls my name, tapping my cheeks with a gentle pat. I have to pull myself from the depths of wherever the fuck I just went to open my eyes and look up, at Harry. He looks concerned and asks me a question that I don’t register—I was truly out of it. I must have dozed off.

I push his hand away and grab the closest piece of clothing to wrap around myself in which ends up being a sheet. I take myself to the bathroom to clean up.

I hardly recognize the girl in the mirror. My eyes are blown out and my neck looks like it was rammed by a bull. I can hardly look at the rest of me. I would need to buy something high necked before we got picked up tomorrow morning and use all the concealer I had. I know I marked every inch of him I could find too.

I had never felt that level of passion with anyone. It was unnerving.

My knees collapse under me as I sit on the toilet and try to count the tiles on the opposite wall, just to come back to earth. To my body.

I sense a shadow under the door after I’m in there for a while, I watch it move from one side to the other and then move away. I wait longer, nearly falling asleep there before going back out.

The bed looks a right mess and most of the duvet is twisted to the side. I don’t bother with it, I use the sheet I’m wrapped in and crawl right into bed. Harry seems to have fallen asleep too but as I near sleep I feel the bed dip and the heavy weight of the duvet drapes over me.

I don’t have enough clarity or energy tonight to think about what any of this meant but I know I was right about leaving.

***

We return to London on a Wednesday morning and nearly kiss the ground. Harry was still playing two shows here but getting to go back home instead of a hotel room was enough to make us weep.

I didn’t really have a home to go back to. I’d been thinking about that a lot as the tour took us closer and closer to London. I had texted Gray yesterday and we agreed I could crash there until this weekend to get my stuff together.

London had a metaphorical grey fog over it in my mind. Nothing felt appealing about it and the only thing on my mind these days was home—my childhood home.

I already knew I was going to give in my resignation letter to Harry after tour but I had a 3 week period under contract. I don’t think I could afford a hotel for three weeks and staying with any of my friends is out of the question.

These thoughts kept me preoccupied.

It helped me not to think about that night though. I avoided Harry unless it was for work, returning to the solitude of my first few months working for him. He does the same: curt and avoidant. I know others notice but nobody dares to ask.

It was the most intense thing I’d done in my whole life and that was saying something. There was a way that Harry got under my skin that nobody else could. And it was hard to find a balance after the scales had shifted so far in that direction.

I felt like I had to block it out until I could have space to process it. And yet memories still seeped through when I was quiet for a moment too long or when he’d walk past me with the same cologne as that night and I’d catch a whiff. I was doubly sure this chapter had to close.

When I get back to the flat on Wednesday Gray has vanished as he promised. He told me he’d drop by that evening to talk. Surprisingly, I felt calm about it. I don’t know if it was getting all of that ferocious energy out that had been churning for months, but I feel level-headed and I appreciate the space to myself.

Gray texts me before he arrives. Like this wasn’t the flat he was now paying for alone.

I know what he wanted to talk about—we were all supposed to go to Harry’s last show at the o2 since I had tickets for everyone. Josie was stoked and based on the way she’s been texting me leading up to the day I don’t think she knew. Gray confirms it.

“So,” he rubs the back of his neck. He looked nice in a beanie and corduroy jacket. I wonder if any of the effort was for me, then vanish the thought.

“So,” I echo.

We stand awkwardly across from each other—him propping himself up behind the couch and me leaning against the dining table. Like we needed to get as much furniture between us. Like we hadn’t shared a bed a few weeks ago.

“We should sit?”

“Yeah,” he attempts a laugh and sits on the sofa. I choose the closest chair and turn it to face him. “Yeah. Um, I don’t know how you feel about Saturday. But I haven’t told Josie yet. I haven’t really told anyone.”

I nod, “Me too. Not really. People at work think we’re on a break.”

“Right. Good.” He says. “I’m not tryna lie to people but I don’t really want to get into it…”

“Yeah,” I agreed. “So Josie?”

“I’ll let her know once…once you move out?”

Move out. Of this flat. It’s been home for nearly 3 years.

Gray had surprised me with it when he found it—I had been broke and only been able to pitch in for utilities and groceries but he’d been gracious. He’d been supportive once. But I guess his support had boundaries too. I didn’t entirely blame him for that.

“Sounds good. Or later, maybe when she’s done her exams.”

He leans back on the couch, arms spread over the back and sighs as he studies me. “Yeah of course. I should’ve thought of that. You’re always good at that stuff. She’s gonna be gutted.”

I nod. Not sure what to say to that.

“So you’ll be out on Saturday yeah?” He asks after a while. It seemed both of us had a lot on our minds. But his question stings a little.

“Yep. I’m off for most of the week so I’ll just pack things up. Uhm, with Josie and whatnot I guess we’re still acting like a couple? Will that be weird?”

“Yeah. It will be but we’ve got no other option.”

“Right.” I respond. His voice grows an edge I’m not a fan of. “Well. Thanks for letting me stay here. If you need anything else I guess you can grab it now.”

I want to ask how he’s doing, who he’s staying with, and just hold his face one last time to really remember. But his cold apathy grows like frostbite over the room and creeps into my heart. I always thought where there was love there would always be love but I’m not as sure tonight.

I stay busy and when I can’t sleep at night; I map out a dream, an exit plan home. I write up my resignation letter, I look at flights and rentals and talk things out with my family, I cancel wedding and couple shit, and grieve a fair bit.

On Friday afternoon, my only formal shift this week, I head to Harry’s with an anxious weight in my chest and a buzz in my head from the hope. Hope that this chapter of my life could end soon, and I can head home and recuperate and plan out what my life was going to look like.

Harry’s on a call when I get in. He spares me a glance but I head to the office with my stack of mail. Today was mostly for some housekeeping/admin but I hope to avoid Harry for the most part like I’ve done since that night. My letter sits like a bar of gold in my bag.

I hear him move about the flat. I restock some pantry items, and we speak as little as possible. Going with him to his meeting was my final task for today so I decide it’s a good time to hand in my letter.

I find him sitting in the studio, tapping a pen against the table.

“Mr. Styles?”

“Hm?” He drags his eyes away from his screen to look at me.

“So we’re heading to your meeting in 10. Before then I just wanted to hand this in.”

The envelope stays outstretched in my hand and he eyes it, not taking it.

“What is that?”

“Can you just take it?” I shake it a little, like a bag of treats for a puppy.

His muscles move one inch every ten seconds, that’s how slow he is to sit up in his seat and finally take the letter from my hands. I almost let out a big sigh of relief. The process was finally in place.

“What is it?” He asks again, tearing the corner and down the side like he usually did.

I wait for him to unfold the thirds before answering, “my resignation letter.”

His eyes scan the sheet left to right right to left and when he looks up at me it’s hard to say what he’s thinking.

“Is this a joke?”

“No? Obviously not? I’m handing in my 3 weeks. I’ll also email a copy to Jeff and you.”

“Why are you doing this?” He stands, his tall frame rigid.

“Why? Because I’m…I’m quitting? I think I’ve learned everything I could here a-and it’s time to move on.”

By here I don’t mean working for Harry Styles and co but just here as in London. I’ve learned a fuck ton of life lessons here, and it was time to process them elsewhere.

“Is this to get back at me somehow? I don’t understand,” the papers crinkle in his fist as he grips it tighter. “Do you want a raise? Can we talk about this?”

“No.” I say and even though there’s so much more I could say I think that sums up my answer.

He looks puzzled, then annoyed. Just then my phone buzzes. The car was downstairs.

I grab my laptop and we head down. I was coming along to take minutes and then head home. In the car I reassure Harry,

“I plan on wrapping things up in the next three weeks and making sure everything is set up for an easy transition. I’ll leave continuity notes and reach out to people I regularly communicate with to break the news. The next couple months are pretty easy anyway coming out of tour and going on holiday so there should be plenty of time for the new PA, whoever your hire, to catch up.”

He doesn’t say a word. It reminds me of our first drive to the studio together. How naïve I was. How things changed.

He continues staring out the window, resting his face on his fist. I remember my teeth dragging over that jaw. I blink the image away; this was why I had to go.

When we get to Graham’s office Harry tells Jeff, “we don’t need minutes.”

Jeff looks over at me for answers and I shrug. I guess I came here for no reason but at least I had my laptop to work.

“Uh y/n please come i-“

“She’s fine working out there,” Harry cuts Graham off. Graham looks offended, his gaze drawing between Harry and I. Again, I shrug. I wasn’t leaving today I don’t know why he was acting like it.

For the next hour or so I sit at a spare cubicle and do just as I said in the car. I type out lists for upcoming interviews and studio days. I send emails for information to note for whoever the poor person was to replace me.

I had been keeping the Dos and Don’ts updated over the last year and it feels like a baby the way it came together with so much thought. I was almost sad to part with it.

Nobody tells me the meeting is over. The door simply opens and Harry breezes past.

“I’ll be in the car.” He mutters. Any faster and I would have to hold down the papers around me.

When he’s gone beyond sight, I turn back to the open door.

“What’s the matter with him?” I hear Graham asking inside.

“You keep pushing him,” Jeff responds with irritation. “That’s not his brand Graham.”

“Well that’s a different tune. Prior to this you were singing my praises with these new ideas.”

“I don’t know. Something’s been up with him for…a while-“

“Since that article isn’t it?” Graham references the Harry Styles slander when we were in Spain. Little did they know other things had also happened.

“We dealt with that article.”

Shit, I think. Has he been any different? I think I was keeping too much distance from him to notice.

“Y/n,” my name snaps me out of my thoughts.

“Mhm?” I’m beckoned to the meeting room. “Yes?”

“Find out what’s wrong with him. Or better yet just convince him to be a bit more alive at his last show tomorrow with his usual charm? He hasn’t been his full capacity the last few shows has he?”

Shit. “Um. Burnout?”

The two men look at each other. They make a face like that couldn’t possibly be why. I tell the men what they want to hear, that I’d try to find out and get him back to his charming self (yuck) before joining Harry in the car.

“Jeff and Graham aren’t all that happy with you,” I say when we start driving. Harry was giving me a lift home. “They’re insisting you do it right at your final tomorrow. Be your charming self.”

He grunts in response, head facing the window again. Was he allergic to look forward in the car or something?

“Are you coming?” He asks after a good ten minutes of silence.

“Tomorrow?”

“Mhm.”

“Yeah. I gave my extra tickets to…my fiance,” my brain fumbles my words as it remembers what he was and now is. And the lie I had to keep up. “And his sister and her friend.”

He just nods in acknowledgement, somehow stonier.

When the car pulls up to my familiar building I thank his driver and begin my shimmy out but Harry puts a hand to my knee to stop me. His touch sears right through my stockings and he must feel it too because he slides his hand back.

“Answer this,” he looks at me for the first time tonight. Wow, this really did feel like my first week on the job.

“Sure,” I reply.

“Is it because of that night?”

It’s the first time it’s been mentioned, and his gaze burns brighter than a forest fire. It’s mesmerizing and I can’t look away.

Wait, he wanted an answer.

“It’s because of a lot of things,” I answer truthfully.

He clenches his jaw. Leans back in his seat. The seatbelt reverses to hold him in place again and he’s no longer looking at me. I take that as my cue to go.

***

Josie bursts into the flat dressed to the nines in a groovy floral jumpsuit and boas in her hand. “Don’t worry. I have one for each of us.”

Her friend trails behind her in an equally 70s inspired look.

“That’s what you’re wearing?” Josie judges her brother’s hoodie and jeans. “You’re lowering the vibe Gray do better. Y/n? Why didn’t you brief him?”

“I did!” I eye Gray. “Don’t blame me.”

This was way more awkward than I thought. Or I really was not as good of an actress as I wished.

“What am I supposed to wear?” Gray asks. “I’m not wearing a jumpsuit.”

Josie rolls her eyes. “Y/n please drag him back and find a decent tee or something?”

“Yes ma’am,” I take Gray by the arm and take him back.

“This is kinda weird hey?” I whisper when we close the door.

“I don’t really like it either,” Gray scratches his head. “But it’s for the best.”

I nod and then louder announce, “Well it’s Jo’s night so find something a tad more retro?”

We end up with a red tee and find a belt to tie the look. Josie hugs her brother with thanks when she sees it.

I had on a pair of black bellbottoms paired with a blank tank. My hair was in spacebuns and Josie plucks a few boa feathers to accessorize my hair. It’s cute.

We head off and I have to make a conscious effort to remember my mannerisms with Gray before all this. I feel woozy while I slide my hand into his on the ride there, as Josie snaps our pics on her disposable, as she tells us to get one of us where Gray’s kissing my cheek and she’ll save it to show our kids. It makes me sick.

He keeps an arm on my waist as we walk. I want this night to be over so bad but every time I look Josie’s way I perk back up a little. I wanted her to enjoy this.

And she does. I’m sure she’s lost her voice by the end of the concert. At one point we drift away a little and breathe easier to drop the act but when she’s back Gray wraps his arms around me from behind and we act like a happy couple. Again, I felt sick.

Being in Gray’s arms held none of the spark it used to. I just feel awkward and sad.

At one point Harry looks my way, I don’t know how he spotted me in such a big crowd. It’s between songs and he looks at the group I’m with. I give a pathetic wave and he nods ever so slightly, his gaze sliding off soon after. Gray’s arm tightens around my shoulder and my heart gives a squeeze in response. I’m reminded: this era was ending.

The band told me to meet them backstage at the end, to join in on the final-show celebration. Josie and Gray would wait at a local pub and with the way Josie’s Instagram stories were glowing I could imagine her sitting there uploading it all.

“I couldn’t have done it without any of you,” I catch Harry saying as I slip behind stage with my pass. “I know I’ve not been the easiest to be with but you all sit in my heart. This is our Euro tour, concluded.”

Somebody pops bubbly and I congratulate the whole team as they drink. They insist on going out for proper drinks and I’m denied not going. They tell me to invite my guests to party with them and I know, based on where we were going, Josie was going to flip.

Juniper, a club that gets us all in on Harry’s face card, is opulent and lively on the inside. Josie is buzzing about with her friend—Gray had opted to go home, claiming he had early morning sessions. Josie didn’t think twice about him, but we pretended to go back and forth with a final warning from Gray to Josie to behave.

“He’s a broody one,” Charlie comments on Gray as we chatter while we get drinks. “Sister?”

“Yeah. Doesn’t know yet though so,” I put my finger to my lip.

“So no Barcelona dancing tonight?” Sarah teases. I laugh and tell them to keep me tamed. “We gotta do some shots with the team though where is everyone?”

We gaze around the room and manage to get everyone together. After one round of shots and another that Harry forced on all of us I feel the tension I’ve been carrying with me most days slide away.

We end up sticking together as a group and dance together, laughing and cheering each other on. Even Harry’s in a cheery mood—I suspect the alcohol. I catch him watching me at one point and when I raise my brow he takes my hand and spins me in a friendly twirl. I trip on my wide-legged pants and he catches me from behind. With my back to his chest I have the urge to turn around and kiss him and feel the peculiar comfort I had received from him before. That thought drives me away from him again. Despite the tight knit group there’s too much between us to even attempt being close.

I call it quits when Josie finds me and announces she was going home. I hug the newfound family I had made over the last few months one final goodbye, knowing I might never see them together like this again.

***

Jeff’s reaction to my news surprises me the most. He’s visibly upset and tries to sell me anything to stay. I tell him there was nothing to keep me at my job but I would rely on him for a good reference. I think it’s the first time he’s ever reassured me.

Between Harry and I it remains curt. Sometimes even edgy. I post my own job replacement and Jeff keeps me updated on potential candidates. By the time my last week rolls around I’m host to a roil of emotions.

The first week homeless, Charlie had let me crash on her couch and promised not to say a word to anyone. I didn’t want to overstay my welcome and so I had checked into a hotel and called it home for now.

I’m on my way back home to the hotel after being at Gray’s. We’d invited Josie over for dinner now that her exams were over and she’d been suspicious from the start.

We had told her the truth and she refused to believe it, hurt and betrayal in her eyes as she looked at me and realized she had been kept in the dark for the last week. I felt worse then, than I did when Gray and I called it quits.

I promised her a lunch together this week to talk more. Just because I was out of Gray’s life didn’t mean I had to be out of hers. I thought I could also tell her then that I was leaving to go back home.

On my second last day at work, Harry sends me on an errand near the end of the day. When I get back there’s a small group of friendly and familiar faces waiting to surprise me. I’m touched by the gesture, and I try to corner Harry to say thank you but it feels he avoids me at every chance, always in a larger crowd.

I finally catch him while I’m heading out of the bathroom and he’s heading down the hall.

“Oh hey,” I step in his way. He looks cornered. “I just wanted to say thanks for throwing this.”

“Yeah,” he gestures it was nothing. “It was Jeff’s idea.”

Ouch. I hide the sting. “Well. Thanks regardless.”

He nods, staying mute, but his eyes speak a thousand words—just none that I can read. They stay trained on me, communicating whatever.

Slowly the furrow between his brows eases and the sharp edges of his face give way to a softened expression. I’m scared to move in case I break the trance and don’t get to hear whatever his racing thoughts spit out. Just when it looks like he’s about to say something, a guest turns the corner up the hall.

“Anyone in the toilet?” It was Mitch. Damnit.

“Nope,” I step out of the way, inadvertently brushing Harry. A shiver runs up my spine and I try to act casual but he stiffens beside me. Was it that awful being around me, jeez.

I give up. If he wanted to continue staying moody, so be it. I leave to go back to the party and don’t look back.

My final days in London are hard. The same way I arrived, I go: alone and unsure of what’s ahead.

I always thought here was where I would stay forever. And maybe one day I would return but there was a little too much friction between me and the Capital.

I finish work on an unremarkable note after going through processes with the new hire, and dotting all of my i’s. Harry is nowhere to be seen and I’m gone before he gets back. I’m frustrated that he’s behaving this way but there’s also too much between us for the simple goodbye I yearn for.

I visit all of my old favourites, have one last drink at my old local pub somewhere in between Gray’s flat and Harry’s. I shed a lot of tears on my pilgrimage through the city’s veins. I promise the paved and cobblestone roads I would be back one day.

The walls of my lungs ease open on the flight home. Still, tears cascade down my face silently as the plane sleeps. Eventually I do too. When I wake the sky is filled with bright blinding sunrise, and American soil peeks out below me: I was finally home.

••••••••••••••••••••

Present (2 years on):

My heart flutters seeing Harry here, I chalk it up to anxiety. But it annoys me that despite all the distance and the growth, he still had an effect on me.

Harry’s head turns and before I can be smart about it our eyes lock. His eyebrows raise ever so slightly before his face falls into a nonchalant facade again. I don’t even want to know what my face looked like.

Then he gets the nerve to smirk, hang his head, and then grab his drink and walk towards me.

“If I had a cross I would be holding it up right now.” I have to shout a little so he hears me before he gets to me. He was an emotional vampire feeding on all of mine.

“Now why’s that?” He continues towards me. My emotions swirl through me. “I thought time heals all wounds. Why the unfriendly welcome Mrs. Duran?”

I grit my teeth at the name, he was still filled with poison. “Right, the timeless wisdom of clichés.”

“I like to think I’m pretty timeless.” He smiles.

“I’ve found that time may heal wounds, but scars make sure you never forget.”

“Well, scars aside, you look good,” he moves on and I feel like an idiot the way I was used to feeling around him.

“Of course I do.”

“What are you doing in London? Last I checked I was getting a reference check from America.”

I debate not answering him but I was trying to straddle the line between indifference and confidence. It was like walking a tightrope.

“I’m in London for a little while,” I give vaguely.

“Ah,” he smiles and damnit I forgot how handsome he could be. How handsome could then turn into seductive so quickly. I had to remember: Still a devil. “Are you looking for a new employer? Because I could be hiri-“

“No.” I cut him off. “I finally have a job I love so I’m good.”

Something flickers in his eyes but surprisingly he stays quiet.

“What are you doing here? At The Violinist?” I ask. I sort of wish I still had a drink in my hand, they feel awkward and clunky and I want to avoid playing with my hair. Gah. “Global star drinks alone at his local bar?”

He laughs but I can tell I hit a minor nerve. “Here I’m just a local. Always have been—it’s nice to be anonymous for a little bit.”

I roll my eyes. I didn’t believe that for a second. He loved his fame and everything that came with it.

Plus I used to come here all the time, I would’ve known if my employer was a local too. He was lying for some reason.

“Mr. Styles if there’s one thing I remember about you, you’d choose death over anonymity.”

“Firstly,” he leans in and I get a whiff of his usual cologne with a hint of malt. “A person can change a lot. So maybe you don’t know me as much as you think you do-“

“Oh I don’t think anyone can change that drastically in only a year-“

“You seemed to have.”

His words take mine out of my mouth. I hadn’t changed, not really. I’d always been this y/n but the further I got away from him the more reassured I had gotten being that y/n.

“And secondly,” he continues before I could think of a response. “You no longer work for me. Harry is fine.”

The smile he throws me is almost sweet if I didn’t know the cruelty that could hide underneath. I don’t return the smile, I only raise my brow and look back down at my phone. My cell service hasn’t gotten any better and I’d missed the wifi password.

I could connect to Harry’s wifi, ask him so that I could order an uber.

I’d rather van gogh my ear.

I weigh all my options and consider the last one again. I look up to see what Harry was doing in the silence and find him looking at me. A shiver runs up my spine as our eyes clash. So much history and words unspoken fall in between. A very specific night flashes through my mind. I wonder if it does him because he looks down first. Damn.

“So I’ve gotta get going,” I say.

“Let me buy you a drink.” He says at the same time.

He laughs awkwardly and repeats, “One drink?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Why not?”

“We’re not drinking buddies.” I pull my purse to my chest, wanting to hop off this stool and run home if I need to. Put as much distance between myself and this man that was put on this earth to confuse me.

“Then what are we y/n?” He asks, his voice silky smooth as he leans in. The voice that whispered sweet nothings into my ear in my worst nightmares, nightmares of cotton sheets and heated limbs, of passion and shame.

“Ex-employer,” I point to him. I point to myself, “Ex-employee.”

“Exes have drinks together,” he grins full well knowing the double meaning.

“Never ends well,” I eye the door.

“Just as stubborn as I remember.”

“And you were saying people change?” I raise my brow.

He drops the smile and sighs, “I’m not gonna be able to convince ya am I?”

I shake my head. He should know that by now.

“Can I walk you out at least?”

I shrug, couldn’t hurt.

“What is this?” I ask as he opens the door for me.

“What?”

“This? Why are you trying to be so friendly?”

“I thought we could be friendly exes.”

And when did he get so cheeky.

“Something weird is going on,” I watch him stay in step with me as I walk up. With no service I was going to take the tube. “And I don’t like it.”

“Nothing weird is going on don’t get all paranoid on me.”

“Don’t call me paranoid! You never call a woman paranoid.”

“I thought that was conspiracy theorists?”

“Nooo. You’re being weird.”

"Alright, no need to get all Freudian on me. Just trying to be a decent human here."

I shake my head, somehow in our exchange my face had decided it was okay to smile. To forget what he put me through and remember instead that when things were good between us we actually got along.

Damnit. The devil knew how to play tricks. I wipe the smile off my face while he continues walking with me.

“So…what have you been up to?” He asks.

“Working, you know me.” I say after trying to figure out what his angle was but unable to find one.

“Oretta Smith I hear, how did you manage that?”

“I’m just that good Harry,” I say. His name is weird in my mouth. Sure I called him that in my head but I usually used Mr. Styles. I can tell he feels the same with his quick glance my way.

“How do you like that?”

“Yeah, she’s a great employer like I said. Very professional. Lots of flexibility.” Each praise is a knock to his ego. But it was all true, plus with Winnie joining the team I had a friend my age that felt great.

But there was also a darker side called burnout that I barely admitted to myself. Ever since we landed in London and I had time to orient my new self in a city that molded my old self, I felt the familiar singe of purposeless. But I keep it to myself of course.

“Great.” Harry responds curtly. “What about yourself? How’s your life, are you finally married?”

My instinct is to raise my defences and chew him out, he must know Gray and I were done what with me living in the States.

And yet, when I peer past the defences and take a long hard look at him I realize he is asking earnestly and without another angle.

We’re nearing the tube now. I hesitate in lying or telling the truth.

“We broke up,” I choose to confess. I peek at him and he looks surprised, even sorry.

“I didn’t know. Sorry.”

“I’d hope not,” I reply. “Otherwise you’d be an asshole calling me Mrs. Duran.”

He huffs an awkward laugh.

“Anyway this is me—

“I can give you a ride home—wherever that is right now?” He asks.

We’re stood in front of the glass doors. There’s not a lot of people this time of night. And as tempting as his offer was, the way he looks at me right now sends poisonous butterflies to my stomach and I think it’s best I get home for the big day tomorrow and not make any regrets.

“I’m not too far,” I lie. I point a thumb to the doors behind me. “I’m just gonna…”

“Yeah. Yeah right.” He’s awkward, which is a first. He clears his throat and stuffs his hand into his pocket. I watch him with a removed sort of curiosity. Eventually he coughs out his question. “How long are you in London for?”

“A few weeks,” I reply.

He finally meets my eyes again—and there goes my stomach. He was supposed to have zero effect on me, I was supposed to stay mad at him. Why was my body betraying me? Why did it continue to loop memories from that night and remind me of the things he whispered in the dark?

“A few weeks,” he murmurs back.

His gaze travels over my face openly, no longer holding back the barely-hidden expressions from before. Because I told him Gray and I weren’t a thing? Because I was entertaining whatever bullshit this was?

“Yep,” I nod. Awkward. Nervous. Cautious.

“My number’s the same,” his eyes snap back to mine. “If you want to go for that drink later.”

“Harry,” I try to break it to him another way. I wish I could just say I never want that drink. “I don’t think-“

“Don’t think,” he cuts me off. He laughs when I furrow my brows. “I mean, I’m right here for most of the next few weeks. When you feel like you want to have that drink just give me a call. Or text.”

Why, I want to ask him. Why, after all this time, after everything that happened? And it’s like he reads my mind in the silence.

“I know you left on a pretty poor note.” He shuffles his feet. “I know a lot of that was my fault. I apologize for that. Um, but I did enjoy having you around. You were excellent at your job and…you are missed. Even Jeff remembers you fondly. Which is saying something.”

This was some sort of prank. Or Harry had gotten so famous he now had a doppelgänger roaming the streets as him. It couldn’t be that Harry, my Harry, would say something so sentimental and so…genuine.

“So uh yeah, I would love to see you again while you’re in town.” He says when I don’t respond.

“Right.” I choke out.

He shrugs when I can’t bring myself to say anything more. “We do change, whether you believe it or not y/n.”

I swallow, hoping to lubricate my vocal cords and find my voice. “I-I really do have to go.”

Crestfallen, he nods. His hand comes up to touch my elbow. “Yeah ‘course. Just…think about it?”

I look down at his hand and he lets go, we stay in another bubble of silence. His eyes flicker down to my lips and I feel a wave of warmth as I try not to do the same.

“Goodnight,” I blurt and get to the other side of the glass doors. He watches me go.

On the escalator down I risk a glance back and he’s still there, watching until I’m out of sight. That ended incredibly awkward.

Leave it up to Harry to confuse me in coming back into my life. Damn him, he could never be consistent.

***

Waking up super early to catch the train out to Cambridge is so worth it because I get to watch Josie walk the stage and graduate with distinction wearing her famous smile that beams over the vast room.

Despite what happened with Gray and I, Josie and I have kept in touch steadily over the last year. It started as weekly facetimes which reduced down to monthly calls and have now become a steady stream of texts and memes swapped back and forth.

When she found out I’d be in London around her graduation dates she gave me no choice but to show up, sending me a ticket without asking.

I knew I’d see Gray, and a part of me was nervous and curious how that was going to go. But mostly I was grateful to still be in Josie’s life and spend time with her in person. She was the part of this life I missed most.

I’m sat somewhere in the middle of the room and Josie was smart enough not to seat me with the rest of her guests. But I know I would see everyone during photos and the dinner we were having later on. I try keep my focus on the ceremony however.

“Y/N!” Josie rushes towards me when she sees me after the ceremony. The group she departs from I recognize is a mix of her girl friends, her family, and a few others.

“Josie!” I return the same energy and she leaps into my arms. I squeeze her tight to me. “I’m soo proud of you my girl.”

We sway side to side, until we get enough hug.

“Look at you!” She exclaims when she leans back. “Your hair looks amazing and you are glowing. Please tell me you have a boy in your life.”

“No,” I laugh.

“A girl?” She asks hesitantly.

“No! I’m just…happy where I am right now! How about you look at you! You look phenomenal as per.”

“Oh thanks,” she takes the compliment and giggles. “I asked my dad to grad gift me a salon and spa visit so I am rejuvenated and blown out.”

“Aren’t you ever,” I touch a lock of her hair. “Congratulations.”

“Eek!” She squeals. “Finally finished this hellscape! I can’t wait to never write an exam again—ooh wait I want you to meet my boy…”

“So that’s why we’re actually glowing,” I tease as she tugs me towards the group. That definitely has Gray. My stomach drops the closer we get, he doesn’t seem to notice. He looks busy talking to one of Josie’s friends.

“Anyway,” she deposits me in front of a 6 foot something guy made of angles. “This is Jax. My boyfriend. We met during a Friendsgiving Myles threw last year.”

“Nice to meet you,” Jax smiles. “Y/N right?”

“Yes!”

“I was supposed to get around to that,” Josie huffs.

“Sorry she talked about you a lot when she found out you were coming. She was really excited.”

“Ugh,” she turns to me like she was embarrassed but her face is glowing. Josie was in looove.

“You two are so cute,” I tease which just makes Josie blush a little harder. “So are we getting any pictures?”

“Oh yeah,” Jax swivels his head. “Liliya has the good camera if you want to get-“

“Oh we can use our phones,” Josie cuts him off.

“No get the high res one—Liliya, camera?” Jax motions a shuttering action to the friend Gray was talking to. He’s so tall above the crowd that both look up at him and comply.

“Y/N,” Josie drags my arms back and takes me on the outskirt of the crowd. “I’m so sorry I never mentioned because I thought you wouldn’t come if I did tell you but you-“

“Y/N?”

Josie’s rushed whispers are cut short when Gray notices me and calls my name. He looks stupefied. I spare a glance to Josie and she’s paled.

She didn’t tell him.

“Hey,” I force a friendly tone. I was going to kill that girl.

“Did you all want a photo?” Josie’s friend Liliya shoulders her way back into the circle with the camera on a strap. She turns to Gray, “Babe?”

It’s an odd sensation, like all oxygen has left my lungs and they’re being squeezed as if tightened in a vice. Gray’s eyes drag away from me to his…girlfriend? Definitely not Josie’s friend.

It shakes me in the moment how much I realize I still cared, still carried a shred of hope for…something. And not consciously knowing this makes this moment feel a little like a slap in the face.

What did I think? I was going to leave this country for a year and people were going to pause where I last left them? Of course Gray’s moved on. Aside from the end he was a great partner and anybody would want that.

These thoughts race through my head in the few seconds Gray responds to his girlfriend and I look at Josie. She looks guilty as charged.

“I tried to tell you just now?” She whispers.

Deep breaths, I remind myself. You’re not the hot-headed y/n these people knew last. This day is not about you. It’s about Josie.

“It’s cool. Let’s get some photos,” I smile. “Don’t want to miss having them with you.”

She sighs but keeps her eyes on my face as we walk farther out.

“I am really sorry,” she whispers.

“Hey it’s alright,” I lie. This was the worst of it—Gray had moved on, had a great girlfriend, and I was living the life I wanted. No harm and no foul. “Honestly Jo I get it, you wanted me here reallllly bad.”

“I did!” She says. “But I’m also gonna kill Jax.”

I laugh and we straighten up when we realize the camera was already pointed at us. Josie flashes her degree and a few of her friends join the pictures too. We hustle back to Gray to see them and flipping back on the first few makes my breath catch in my throat. There’s one in particular where Josie is turned to me talking and my mouth is in a big grin because I’m laughing.

I catch eyes with Gray in an uncomfortably intimate second.

“Send me that one for sure wow Gray that’s a really good shot.”

“Oh wow,” his girlfriend peers over. “That’s a great candid.”

“Yeah,” I agree. I’d love a copy too. And of course that’s when Gray’s girlfriend notices me and introduces herself.

“I don’t think we’ve met—is that an American accent I detect?”

“It is,” I smile. “I’m Y/N.”

“Oh!” Two spots of pink appear on her face. It seems she’s heard of me. “Well it’s nice to meet you—nice that Josie invited you! I’m Liliya but Lily works too.”

“C’mon!” Josie interrupts the awkward by grabbing her brother’s arm and pushes him in the direction of where her friends are posing for photos. He takes some shots but Josie hates the look of them and gives the camera to Lily instead.

With just Gray and I left behind it grows very awkward.

“I thought Josie told everyone I would be-“ I say just as he says, “I didn’t realize you would be-“

We stop and chuckle awkwardly.

“Sorry,” I shake my head.

“No,” he shrugs. “It’s cool. It’s cool you’re here actually.”

“Okay,” is all I can say. Until the awkward silence stretches. “So…Liliya?”

“Yeah. Yeah, Liliya. You?”

I want to lie, but I shake my head. “No. Sorta needed the year to breathe a little.”

“Fair. How’s America?”

“Oh y’know, still super-sized and politically a guessing game.”

“Have you turned on our news while you’ve been down at all?” He raises a brow. I laugh because he was right. It was all a shitshow everywhere.

He asks me about my family as Josie jogs up to us.

“Okay, tell me the truth is my hair going flat?”

“No,” I look behind her where her friends are hovering over Lily and the camera going over their photos.

“Good. Where’s mum and dad?” Josie asks Gray. “Dad was just here 10 minutes ago he said he’d come by for—oh there’s mum! Look!”

We turn to where she points. Michelle—what I’ve always called Gray’s mom, spots her daughter at the same time and waves. She starts to walk towards us.

It’s nice to see her but I also feel a bit nervous; going cold turkey on relationships you only had because of an ex are always weird to come back to. Especially ones you were fond of.

“Mum! You’re missing all the pictures!” Josie says. “Where’ve you been!?”

“I just saw somebody I knew back from my first job as a librarian can you believe that?” Michelle says as she joins the group.

“Crazy. Well mum look who got to show up today! Isn’t that crazy too?”

Michelle looks at me and the bright smile that was intended for her daughter dies like a flower in overnight frost. The look wipes the anticipation off my face.

“Who?”

That one word shades the sun from the sky and brings forth a gust of western winds through the group.

“Mum,” Josie look between me, her mum, and Gray. She’s confused. “Y/N?”

“Hey Michelle,” I croak. Maybe my hair was too different for her to recognize me, or maybe she had early onset alzheimers. Surely this woman who I’ve had a better relationship with than her own son has wouldn’t be treating me like your worst frenemy at your high school reunion.

But Michelle looks right through me. I can’t explain how it feels, not in the moment. I’m gutted, and feel an unexplainable wave of sadness.

“Mum…” Josie sounds hurt and Gray finally decides to swoop in.

“Mum let’s check out the photos we took already. We gotta get some of the three of us.”

They walk away and I feel seven inches tall but I turn to Josie with a brave face and face her teary one.

“That was kind of awkward,” I downplay.

“Y/N I’m honestly so sorry I-,” Josie blinks rapidly.

“No it’s ok!”

“I don’t know why she acted like that-“

“Hey It’s natural for her to feel that way I’m alright don’t get upset-“

“It’s not alright though! That was such a…she never acts like that.”

It was true. Michelle was a free-spirit as she called herself. That’s why Gray had such a hard relationship with her; in his words, she was too emotional and ungrounded for him.

Yet apparently, she was able to find enough ground to stand on when it came to treating me like a nobody. I wonder if it’s because she heard Gray’s biased side of the story or she was hurt herself—still, the way she’s always talked about herself never struck me as someone who would believe a one-sided story. Or be a bitch to someone they previously called their daughter. It hurt like a mofo.

I didn’t want Josie to find out this way, here of all places, that her mom was just human after all. She idolized that woman.

So even though it hurt, I comfort her instead.

“She probably just feels betrayed by me leaving and stuff since we were close too. Imagine if Jax broke up with you and she gave him the cold shoulder—wouldn’t you feel justified?”

Josie scrunches her brows to think about the simplified story I’ve just fed her to feel better. I can tell it still doesn’t sit well with her but she nods in acceptance, “I guess.”

“Yeah, just forget it Josie. Plus you’ve got pictures to take so dry those eyes.”

“Shit I know,” she blinks some more. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to invite you here and twist the knife at every bloody turn.”

“Jo I’m honoured to get to be here and see all your hard work pay off. Don’t worry about anything else.”

“It’s unfair,” she says before she drifts to her group of friends. “I feel like nobody understands how…how understanding you are. But I’m really glad we’re still in touch. And you came for me.”

Her words bring tears to my eyes and I nod, afraid that talking would bring them forward. I watch her crash her group and start instructing photo coordination. I help hold things for people while they take photos and feel like a stranger outside the crowd. If it weren’t for Josie, I think I would have regretted coming here. I feel homesick and unwanted. A tough combo.

I was supposed to crash on someone’s couch tonight and do brunch with Josie tomorrow before going back to London but from the last half hour alone I know I’m going back to the city no matter how late it gets tonight. I think of the hotel room that was home right now, of how lonely that was going to feel to go back to too.

Home right now was in America, in the same time zone as my family, and comfortable in my shared apartment with one of my high school best friends who I reconnected with after going back home. I miss it so bad. And I feel like I’ve bitten into an unripe fruit coming back to the UK before I was ready apparently. My experience feels soured.

I shake off the doom and gloom when the party breaks. We were all going to meet at the restaurant at 6–my plan was to explore the university city and find a place to kill some time in. Maybe go outside to a park with lunch. Josie tries to convince me to join her and her friends for their mid-day celebration but I lie and tell her I had some work to do.

I call Winnie on my stroll through the city. I insist she update me on last night first, and she has more to tell—the guy had a yacht and he was inviting her to a party tonight. She tells me to join if I came back early and we cross our fingers that Oretta wouldn’t need her before then.

I originally called her to rant about Michelle and Gray but I don’t, I didn’t want to kill her vibe. So I scroll through my other contacts but don’t want to worry my mom and it was too early back home to reach anyone else.

My eyes catch on Harry’s name, he was at the top of my texts currently because he sent me a link this afternoon asking me for thoughts on it. I hadn’t opened it yet, I wasn’t sure what to think about this new persona he was wearing or that he thought yesterday’s run-in went okay enough to casually message me for my thoughts.

I remember the weird electricity of yesterday and shove my phone back into my pocket.

He genuinely wanted to have a drink? And talk??

I did enjoy having you around. You were excellent at your job and you are missed.

Was he trying to make up for his cruel words? But he also seemed a lot more mellow than before. Maybe that was just because I didn’t work for him. What did he want? And was I twisted for believing the new schtick?

Most curious of all was him at the pub in the first place. He was not a local there—that was a big lie.

I try to conjure up my previous hatred, calling him the Devil in my head. But it’s harder to do. Seeing him yesterday, he was just a man standing in front of a woman with a head full of cautionary tales and bad experiences.

Without warning images from that night come back and I feel my heart flutter. I shut them down just as quick. Not all bad, my body tries to remind me. I tell it to shut up.

I’ve barely stepped foot in this country again and already my mind was running circles around my heart. How exhausting.

***

I’m early to the restaurant, before anyone else apparently. As the hostess finds my name on her floor plan Josie comes in behind me with Jax.

“Oh! Y/n you’re early!” She seems flustered.

“Yeah I didn’t think I would be,” it was only a few minutes to 6.

We make small talk while we’re led to the table, Josie’s eyes keep darting to where our table might be.

“Sorry I was hoping to do this before you came,” she says when we get there. There are name cards along the 7 seats and she picks the one in front of me. “I’m just gonna move mum to my other side so it doesn’t get weird. Which means she’ll be closer to dad but…I think he’s bailing since his girlfriend doesn’t want to do this.”

Josie shrugs, I know how she feels about her dad’s girlfriend. She begins explaining the plans she has to do dinner with her dad later this week and the more she talks the more I can tell that she feels awkward. And I hate that it’s because of me. At one point Jax and I catch eyes and pass an awkward smile.

“Josefina Duran,” I walk up to her fiddling with the name tags. She stops talking immediately. I grip her shoulders. “Thanks.”

“Sorry,” she whispers. I wrap my arms around her and she melts into me.

“Stop apologizing.”

“Sorry. I can’t help it. It’s a disease.”

We let go with a laugh and she seems more stable. “This is going to be fine.”

Famous last words.

It’s definitely not fine and very awkward. Jax ends up sitting in front of me, and even though Liliya’s name tag was beside mine it’s suddenly swapped as they slide in and Gray sits beside me. I guess it might be too awkward for her but not awkward enough to fit someone we both dated between us.

I can sense Michelle’s pinched face as she notices us sitting beside each other and I feel badly for Josie the most as she tries to play the gracious host. At one point I sense Jax laying a hand on her arm and taking over, asking Michelle questions about her yoga and getting her talking.

“Did you need more?” Gray turns to me with the wine bottle, it’s the second thing he’s said to me tonight. Otherwise he mostly just watches me talk and leans back enough when others are talking so I can be involved.

“I’m okay,” I whisper. I didn’t want to draw any attention while Michelle was talking. She hadn’t said a peep to me, even when Josie tried to involve us both in a shared memory. She continued acting like I was Casper the ghost.

I can feel Lily’s eyes on us as Gray offers wine, of course they would be. No wonder Gray barely spoke to me all night. Fuck me, what was I doing here.

Jax is a sweetheart, asking me about my job and encouraging conversation between the both of us. I’m so happy for Josie that she found a partner like him.

By the time dinner is over I mostly want to cry. I feel spent. But I also feel like I crashed an intimate dinner and everyone’s polite enough not to mention it. Despite Josie, I do actually regret coming.

As we pay the bill and shuffle out, Josie grabs my arm.

“So I have two friends where you can crash at their place or Jax can sleep over at mine and you can sleep at his or-“

“I think I’m gonna head back to the city.”

Her face falls. But it’s like she knew I was going to say that.

“Sorry Jo. I think you should come to the city next week—maybe visit your brother? And while you’re down we’ll do brunch then. I’m mostly free while I’m here. I’m just pretty tired and have to help Winnie with something tomorrow.”

“Really?” She says in the smallest voice I’ve heard out of her. Salt to my wounds.

“Yeah, I’m sorry. I know we were looking forward to getting time together.”

She juts out her lip and I’m reminded of the girl I met when I first started dating Gray. How she’d taken to me so quickly. How the whole family had. How things could end up like this.

And suddenly I see the future laid out in front of me. After tonight it would be hard to keep this relationship going—Josie and I. She’s just seen her mom be an unreasonable bitch for the first time, I can tell she’s been trying to compensate all night but the cracks won’t go away. It’ll always be a sitting duck between us.

We might try to stay in touch, maybe I’d reach out if I was ever in London or if she ever visited the west coast. But this would fizzle out.

She was still young and naive enough that her mom hung the moon and stars; mom’s beliefs were gospel, her opinions were rulings, and she’d just delivered my ultimate sentence: I was a black sheep to the family. How could sweet Josie walk through a mess like that?

“I’m so proud of you,” I tell her as I fight tears. “Congratulations again and thank you for inviting me.”

“Thanks. And you don’t have to be so nice. I know it was kind of a shitty invite.”

“No,” I insist. “I loved being here. I don’t regret showing up for you. I can’t wait to hear what you get up to.”

“I’m going to make sure to make it to the city next week,” she squeezes my arm. “We’ll see each other soon.”

“Exactly,” I look over at the rest of the group, where her boyfriend waits for her. Her family. “And I really like Jax, so good on you for that.”

“He…” she twists her lips, swallowing what she was going to say before vomiting it out. “I always aspired to have a relationship like yours and Gray’s. I never wanted to settle for anything less so that’s…that’s why Jax.”

“Hm I think you made us the bar and you leapt over it babe,” I wrap my arms around her again. I ache with the loss of what we used to be.

“See you soon,” she says before she drags herself back to the group.

I stand off to the side, awkwardly ordering an Uber. The group begins to walk the opposite way waving bye to me. I breathe easier without the weight of them around.

As I tap my foot in anticipation of the ride to the station arriving, I feel a hand tap my shoulder.

“Y/n,” it’s Gray. “Hey I…I just wanted to say something before you left.”

“Oh. Hey yeah. Shoot.”

What was it with everyone wanting to say something to me.

“Uh…ok give me a minute,” he laughs in the way I know to mean he was feeling nervous. “I just sort of jogged back impulsively.”

“Yeah well you have,” I glance at my phone. “4 or so minutes.”

“Damn,” he ruffles his hair. “Alright. I think I just wanna say sorry.”

“Oh.” That was it. Everyone had something to say to me and the something was apparently sorry.

“Yeah I’m sorry. I…when we broke up I was so upset and caught up in my own head. I blamed you for everything. I think it only hit me when you just up and moved out of the country how things actually went down.”

I hadn’t told anyone but Josie that I was leaving.

“Yeah you were just like gone.” He continues. “I guess a part of me thought we’d get some space, maybe circle back later…”

“You really betrayed me,” I remind him.

But even I know what he means. He hurt me bad and it might be crazy stupid but on some level we were both aware we were in an ugly place and maybe with some space we might come back to the place that was good for us again. Maybe bump into each other one day, strike up a conversation, find there might still be a small amount of love left. Enough to water and grow again.

“I know,” he sighs. “I know. I hate that I hurt you like that. I regret…I actually don’t really hang out with that group of friends as much anymore. I sorta have myself to blame but I didn’t like who I was with them.”

I listen, letting him speak. It hurt too, knowing this was the Grayson I had fallen in love with. Kind and supportive, and now apparently he’s learned to communicate. Maybe that was a Lily thing.

“I guess,” he blows the air out of his cheeks. “I want to say I’m really truly sorry. I missed you a lot after you left. Nothing was the same and life was fucking hard. I wish things didn’t end the way they did and I stayed mature but I was just jealous and angry.”

I nod to acknowledge what he’s saying and watch him take a breath to continue.

“And I always appreciated how you never let us shake your relationship with my sister because she bloody loves you—I don’t think how mum treated you was right today but I never really understood her in the first place. I’m sorry about that.”

“Yeah,” is all I can manage without making it obvious how emotional this was all making me. How one year could make me feel like a completely different person. How this man I loved, and still love in some way, could stand in front of me talking about us as something in the past. Because we were. Long past.

My phone dings with a notification that my ride would be here. We glance down and out into the street.

“Anyway,” he swallows. “I just wanna apologize. And say I genuinely hope you find love y/n. Love that’s as fierce and loyal as you are. I hope you can forgive me one day. And I hope you’re successful as hell in whatever you pour yourself into.”

“Thank you Gray,” I want to say I was sorry too. For what it was worth. But my car pulls to the curb.

I wave at the driver to let them know I’d ordered it and we walk the few feet to the back door.

I face Gray and open my mouth to say it. Say something more: how I appreciated his words, how I was sorry for how things ended too, how I hope he is happy. But nothing comes out of my mouth. I just stare at him, my eyes welling with tears instead.

Gray holds out his hand and I look down at it. I knew those hands well and it’s like walking into a place you used to frequent in the past and have memories rush towards you as you remember: those hands held me and wrapped around my own and comforted me, they made me food and stroked my hair, and carried my bags when they got too heavy. They once wore an engagement band I gifted, they once held a small box with a life-changing question I had said yes to.

Now it was just a hand.

I clasp it and he squeezes.

“I know,” he says, his eyes trained on my watery ones. He squeezes again and lets go.

I rush into the car, those two words nearly cracking me in half. I wave goodbye through the tinted window and feel a wave of despair that pulls me down into the depths of darkness.

Too much was happening at once.

My emotions spiral out of me and I feel alone in this foreign country; I needed comfort where none could be found.

I don’t mean to. Or maybe I do. But on the train back to London I text Harry: is it too early to cash in on the drink?

His response is immediate: no, I was waiting for this text last night

I smile, despite myself.

Can I come over? I text with shaking hands.

H: For drinks?

Y: For drinks

H: Ofc.

***

The taxi drops me in front of the familiar building. I feel an echo of anxiety pierce through me as I go through the familiar doors. I nod at the concierge, the night replacement was new and I’m grateful nobody can recognize me making this potentially stupid decision.

For a brief second I wonder if Harry had other plans tonight but decide not to overthink it. He’d invited me openly. And maybe I was making a decision based on sadness and loneliness and grief and needing to be wanted but I make it. And I would make it like a grown woman—ready to accept the consequences.

I didn’t want to go back to my lonely hotel room. I didn’t want to call anyone and talk about what just happened. I didn’t have words. My body was taking the beating, feeling everything under the sun and now bruised and battered for it. I just wanted my body to forget that. And there was only one person in this godforsaken city that could help.

I’m let up to the penthouse and I forgot it had a distinct smell, wood-like and something indescribable. Weird that it felt comforting.

“You made it,” Harry comes into view in a simple pair of shorts and a long-sleeved white tee pushed up to his elbows. It’s the sleeves that really do it.

“I did.”

I leave my bags beside the elevator next to the umbrella stand, keeping my eyes on him. He doesn’t take his off mine either. I’m glad he doesn’t. Now I know he knows we both said drinks but meant something more.

He reaches out for me before I even get to him, and I know I would think about that later. A lot. But right then in the middle of his entryway I wrap my arms around his neck and lean up on my toes to reach him too.

His lips are soft against mine and he tucks me into him, his hand splayed out on my lower back. It feels like a return to a lover, someone who knows you, like I would’ve thought seeing Gray again would feel. But it’s just Harry, and the thought of baseless familiarity freaks me out a little.

The next time I feel his lips they’re on my jaw and neck and down to the base of my throat. He murmurs my name as he makes his way down and my body reacts immediately. He takes me by the waist and backs me up against the nearest wall, and I have a feeling I might fall.

I had made the conscious decision to walk into the devil’s lair because it was the only place I could get what I needed.

My fingers dig into his shoulders. My body wants this. Every part of me wants to pull him close and hold him and never let go. I wanted all of it tonight.

But I am so tired.

I put a hand on his chest and press gently. I can feel the warmth of his skin, the firmness of his muscles and the beat of his heart as he pauses.

“Sorry, I should have started with a hello. That was too fast was it?” He whispers, looking me straight in the eyes.

I have a million answers, but nothing comes. He puts his hand over mine and I feel it as a shiver runs up my spine.

"Is this too fast?" he asks again, and I hear the worry in his voice.

I shake my head.

He gives a breathy laugh, "Then tell me."

"I think I-“

“Don’t,” he covers my mouth with a laugh. “Please please. Don’t think.”

I smile under his palm and he drops his hand, I can tell he’s proud of lightening the moment by the sheen in his eyes. The moment is tender in a way that takes me back.

He brushes back my hair and kisses my forehead. I close my eyes, breathing in his cologne.

“That’s not where I want to be kissed,” I tell him.

“Then where?” He plays along.

“Anywhere but there.”

He kisses my nose. “There?”

“Not there,” I open my eyes to look up at him. “I’ll have you know that was very snotty just an hour ago.”

He groans, “you really have a way of taking the desire out of a situation.”

But his brows furrow and he watches me even closer.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” I respond to his unasked question.

With that statement he takes a painful step back and I nearly slide down the wall without his support.

“What?” I ask.

“We should take that drink first.”

I feel the loss of his body pressed against mine, I realize miserably.

“What do you mean? I thought the drinks were just an excuse?” I ask.

He laughs a little, “Maybe tonight, but I really did want to have a drink with you. And talk.”

“Harry,” I groan. “I’m all out of talking tonight. Truly.”

“As much as I want to say forget talking and take you to bed I need to do this…just follow me,” he leads me and my flushed body through to the main living area which I was well familiar with but it’d gotten a facelift. I make commentary on the changes and he tells me more about it as he pulls a wine he wants out for us.

“I changed things around a little after you left,” he says as he hands me the wine glass. “I needed it. The change.”

“Oh.” Is all I can muster. I follow him to the sofa, tonight he doesn’t leave as much space between us but it still feels like a weird parallel to the night I landed in the hospital; a confrontation with Gray leading me to wine with Harry. “Look Harry I don’t know if I can do this.”

“Why not?”

“I…I’m at minimal capacity right now I just-“

“Just let me talk then.”

“Why does everyone want to talk!”

“I need to tell you what I should have said a long time ago and I want to apologize-“

“You already did-“

“Properly.”

I cross my arms and sigh.

“Y/n bloody hell I forgot how quickly you can get under my skin.”

“So this isn’t a great thing then.”

“Y/N,” he says my name like a warning and I want to comply. I roll my eyes and knock back my glass of wine, the buzz from the glass at dinner has long since worn away.

“Part of me wants to top you up but another part remembers what happened last time.” Harry eyes me.

“No I’m okay with just one glass. Drinking when I’m upset doesn’t end well.”

“Yeah…I don’t want you concussed on my watch again.”

“No we don’t want that,” we smile at each other, a soft and sentimental smile that gets the anxious stuttering of my heart to calm down a little. He just wanted to talk, so what?

But the anxious voice runs through the scenarios he might want to—his recent text, or something I did as his PA he wants to take up now. Gah.

“I really have missed having you around,” he says softly.

“Didn’t feel like you would with how you treated me.” I raise my brow.

“I know.” He pauses then mumbles something before talking to me directly. “You must have heard about the PA before you? Maybe from Riley?”

“Kind of.”

“Kind of?”

“Hmmm this feels like a trick question.” I say but he tells me he just wants to know what I knew. So I rip the bandaid off. “You had a fling with her.”

He hangs his head back over the seat of the sofa and sighs. “I knew that piece of…Riley makes me really mad when I think about him sometimes.”

“Does he?” I raise my brow. “I can think of someone else who makes me madder.”

“I know that’s supposed to be me. And I don’t know what to do about that except come clean right now.”

“And why is that?” I ask. “Coming clean? I came here just to get distracted in bed with you. I never thought I’d live to see the day where a guy like you wants to talk instead.”

“Y/N,” he says with such an intense look my way my stomach flips. “Trust me. I want to have you in my bed more than you do. But I told myself if that day ever somehow happened it would be after this.”

I shrug, let him continue. In reality his words make me weak and I can’t speak. Which kind of annoys me—why did he have such a strong pull over me? How did he so easily admit he’s thought about me, about having me in his bed!?

My heart flutters amongst other things.

I remember a brief conversation I had with my mom last year when she asked me why I wasn’t putting myself out there and dating again and I told her I just didn’t have the heart for it. She had said it seems I left my heart in London—my passion and my heart. Sitting here with Harry stirs something inside of me, scares me, and I want to distract that with more wine. But I manage to control myself.

“I was fairly new to the industry when I hired Riley and it was his second proper job or something so we were both a bit young and we ended up being friendlier than we should have.” Harry starts. “But he was great at his job and never gave me any issues. I stayed naïve that people in this industry would look out for my best interest-“

“That’s really naïve,” I can’t help but comment but he throws me a look and I zip my lips. “Sorry.”

“I was lucky that the first few relationships I built as I got my foot in the door were genuine but I realized too late that it wasn’t a norm. Everyone wanted a piece of me and they all wanted me to be someone else. Some angle. Shit hit the fan pretty quickly. So when I needed more help I decided to create a new role for Riley and hire a PA. She was seasoned and came highly recommended.”

I nod along to his story.

“Long story short, she started out good but she kept trying to get me alone and get me talking. And back then after being friends with my old PA I didn’t have the wisdom of setting boundaries—don’t give me that look.”

“What!” I raise my hands. “I’m just listening.”

“You’re judging me.”

“Just continue,” I encourage. I was judging a little.

“Anyway, where I thought we were just friendly she thought I—I dunno I was falling for her or something. And one night she was working late so she had dinner here. She kept refilling my drink I didn’t realize she wasn’t drinking as much. It’s not much of an excuse but by the time she came onto me I was pissed and it didn’t take much.”

He continues the story like it was nothing but his voice catches a little and he doesn’t look me in the eye. My insides grow colder. I want to reach inside of him and hold the old Harry, the naive one who didn’t know better.

“Please don’t feel bad for me,” he cuts my sympathy short. “I didn’t turn into a great person after that. Especially with how I treated you.”

“That’s right.” I pretend to be unaffected by his story like he wanted me to be. But it’s near impossible.

“So that’s how I decided it was best for me to play the asshole. I couldn’t fire her after that—it would look awful and she could report me and screw me over. But I could make working for me a nightmare and so I did. A few months later she quit.”

He sighs and takes a swig of his wine, “Then you came along and I thought ‘I should play the asshole from the get go.’ I had gotten good by then at compartmentalizing my personality in the industry.”

“Hmph,” I raise a brow. He has the decency to look embarrassed but he continues.

“But the more time we spent together the worse I felt. You were nothing like the previous PA. You were genuine and down-to-earth. Pretty fiery but I wouldn’t find that out until later,” he grins. I roll my eyes. “I tried to ease up a little but things kept happening to push me back into the asshole box.”

“But you were so snappy, and a dick.”

“I know. I didn’t know how to tell you you worked too hard without dropping the asshole act and making you feel even shittier.”

“What do you mean?”

“I had to be the villain in your story-“

“What?” What was he talking about?

“Yeah like, you were working all the time even though there were some times I told you to wrap it up for the day.”

I remembered that, thinking he was kicking me out.

“But you took the job so seriously. I appreciated everything you did but you were dogged at making sure you did the best at any cost.”

“What do you mean? At any cost?” I ask, a cold sensation running down my back.

“For example take that one time a few months in when I asked you to call me because you forgot to order wine. You bloody came all the way back to hand deliver it-“

“Yeah because you said to call you and you were gonna be pissed if I-“

“No, y/n,” he lays a hand between us. “I just wanted you to call to know where you usually ordered from so I could order that for myself. You weren’t in any trouble! But I could only blame myself for playing the hard asshole too well.”

I think about that night, Josie’s birthday party. How I left early and upset Gray. How I didn’t need to but I had been following the Dos and Dont’s list.

Shit, the lists. They were added onto by the last PA who, now I know, was having her life made into hell just so she would quit. Some of those lists were on an extreme I didn’t even have to follow. Fuck. That was on me.

My face must be a painting of regret because Harry apologizes again.

“I’m sorry but I didn’t want you to…I just felt like I had to play the villain so you could do what you had to do. So you could continue hating me and we could establish the clear boundary.”

“Right.” I have a bitter taste in my mouth.

“But I genuinely liked you, I thought you were funny and sensitive-“

“You don’t like my sensitivity.”

“I do. I just hated how angry you were-“

“Because of you.”

“I know. I created a monster, I’m Frankenstein.”

“Damn straight.” I agree and we pause a beat before laughing.

“Anyway,” he continues. “You were funny and sensitive and resilient, passionate and smart, and you cared so deeply. It was rare meeting people like you in this field. I wanted to wrap you in bubble wrap but I think I shattered you instead. I’m sorry for the way I just let my past colour your time here. I feel like you left because of me-“

“It was really a lot of reasons.”

“I know but I was part of that and I felt no good. After you left I was a miserable son of a bitch for a while. I couldn’t even enjoy my holiday because I kept thinking of you. I was miserable so I barely even said goodbye—I didn’t realize you were going to run away so far. But I also didn’t want to say goodbye because I was scared I would convince you to stay by spilling my truth.”

His words sit on my chest and they slowly sink down to my stomach. I don’t know what it meant, what he wanted me to do with this confession. It’s too much.

“Mostly,” he continues, shifting closer to me on the sofa. He lowers his voice, “Mostly I’m sorry about Barcelona.”

I flush at the mention of it. At the heat and passion from that night. His eyes roam my face.

“I’m not that guy. I should have treated you nicer, should have been the one to keep my patience.”

“I didn’t make it easy,” I admit.

“No,” he chuckles. “You really fucking did not.”

We smile.

“But you’re so much more than anger y/n. I could barely sleep that night, I kept regretting giving into the anger and not being slow and soft with you the way you deserve. I regret it all the time.”

His confession pulls the veil off my eyes and I see a sharper image of my past. Of everything. It all comes at once and I can’t sort through it in the moment but I know what I want to do.

I shuffle over until I’m up against Harry, I hold his face in mine and he cups my face in his hand.

“You drove me crazy,” I tell him. “Made my life hell.”

“I know. But you drove me crazy too. Nobody got under my skin like you did.”

“Same.”

His hand snakes down to my thigh and he nudges it over his lap so that I’m straddling his body. I feel vulnerable and scared—not the first time these emotions have coursed through me in this very room. But today I don’t feel powerless.

His lips are soft against my cheek, my jaw, down my neck. Unlike the first time he’s slow and deliberate like someone who’s waited so long to unwrap a cherished gift and can’t stand ripping even the gift wrap. He pushes my hair out of the way and trails his fingertips down the back of my neck.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he whispers in my ear. The more he talked the more nervous he was making me. I turn my head to capture his lips, run my fingers through his hair which is too short to really grasp. I missed his old hair.

We break apart for a breath and I can feel the tension. The desire to have him near clashing with the need to go slow. To savour this. Somehow we both feel it.

“We don’t have to do anything tonight,” Harry promises me, his finger trailing down my arm. “Just having you here is enough.”

Oh god. How did he know just the things to say. This man was way too suave. He really was the devil.

But I needed him. It’s scary to admit but I did. I wanted to be here, I really did. I needed to be in this moment with him. Fulfill some shut-out desire that had grown dusty in the corner of my heart.

“I want to do this.”

With a gentle kiss he gets us up and takes my hand. I feel myself being pulled through the living room and towards the bedroom. The sheets are cool, but not cold and when he crawls in beside me I forget that I had ever been anywhere else.

He’s attentive and deliberate and I’m buzzing with anticipation. I decide to pick up the pace, propping myself up to take off my blouse. I watch his throat bob up and down like he’s never seen me like this before even though he has. It’s endearing.

The way his hands fit in the curve of my waist makes it harder to breathe. He moves his hands up my torso and to the straps of my bra. He pauses, as if asking permission, and when I nod, he kisses me. He unhooks it and slowly slides it off my shoulders, eyes fixed on mine.

The intensity of his gaze is overwhelming.

I pull him close to kiss him again, and he pulls me under him so I can feel the full weight of him against me. This is what I needed. To be physically present and not stuck in the after tremors of the earthquakes of my past. Not that he wasn’t part of my past but this is different. A non-verbal agreement to just be present. I knew his ways with women, it could be a one-night thing and that’s what I needed.

But that’s why the moments of tenderness and adoration nearly take my breath away. I don’t know where to put these things.

He kisses down my shoulder while his hand trails down to my trousers. He hooks his finger into the belt loop and tugs gently, looking up at me for consent.

I nod.

He slowly takes them off, and when his fingers brush against my bare legs, my breath hitches.

It happens again when he presses his lips against my hip bone.

He stops for a moment, and I can almost see the cogs in his brain whirring.

He moves up to press his forehead against mine.

"I don't know how to do this right," he says quietly, and his eyes search mine.

“What do you mean?”

“This is always how I should have treated you,” he whispers. “I want you to know-“

“Harry,” I smooth out the lines on his forehead.

"No," he grabs my hand and kisses it. "I don't want you to feel like I don't care because I do. I don’t want to hurt you. I'm not good at saying these things. But I want you to know how much I value you. That I like you as a person. I respect you. I want you to be okay.”

“I-“ who was this Harry, seriously!? “I get it. I’m okay. I am.”

He smiles at me tentatively and my heart does a somersault.

I grab the back of his neck and pull him down, pressing my lips against his. I could taste the sweetness of the words he had said.

I tug at his shirt and it flies into the darkness of his bedroom. His skin is heated against mine.

It feels like an eternity before he finally reaches the band of my panties, and my heart thumps wildly.

"May I?" he looks up.

"Please," I whisper.

For the first time since I’ve met him he doesn’t make it about himself or what he needs. It’s almost intimidating how intense he is as he looks after me and it’s hard to reconcile this man with the man in my head. We’re of one mind and it’s like he knows everything I’ve been through in the last 24 hours; he just attends to my every need reminding me that I was here, right here, in his arms and in this body.

And it doesn’t go unnoticed.

“Are you staying the night?” He asks later with a final kiss to my shoulder.

“If that’s alright?” I ask. I didn’t want to be alone in a cold hotel room.

“I’d love nothing more.” He says earnestly.

Love. I brush the word away.

He warns me that he was a slug if I stayed and he’s not exaggerating, with his arm draped over me and tucked up against him he’s like a child with a plush. He falls asleep just as quickly.

I should too but can’t. I feel so intensely about this body laying beside me, I want to crawl inside of him, understand him, understand us and how this worked.

Or maybe I wanted to just understand me, and why I felt a piece of myself sliding back into place tonight. I had to be the most fucked up person in this city.

Instead of sleeping I lay awake thinking about everything and I can’t help it. I go over this morning—god it felt like weeks ago. Josie’s graduation. Josie. Gray. Even Michelle.

I feel slightly paralyzed by everything that transpired today—it truly felt like peering through a glass window into a life I used to have. I try to break open the glass, sort it all out.

On one side is me and everything I’ve done this whole year to move on from the crumbs of my life here in London. I don’t know why but I really did think that coming back I would be 100% untouchable by my past. I was an idiot for thinking that because I was bothered that Gray seemed to have a steady girlfriend. Why did I think anything would rekindle between us?

I dig deeper, did I even want that to happen? Or did I just want to prove to myself that I was the one Gray let get away because I was too scared to face the possibility that I was the one who let Gray get away.

But clearly something didn’t work with us, I think bitterly. A few months with his new girl and he found the balls to open up with me and communicate his grievances and his apologies.

Love that’s as fierce and loyal as you are, he had said. Was I too much for Gray? Is that why we were made to burn out? It hurt too that he had damaged all my relationships I made in my life here in London only to cut those same people out of his life immediately after I left. The more I think about it the angrier I feel.

And his mom, I still feel bruised by her acting like she didn’t even know me. It stokes the anger higher. Her own son has called her crazy on multiple occasions, I was always nothing but kind to her. Gray was the one who put the final nail in our coffin yet the woman who called me her daughter and claimed to love me had been cruel. Even in the face of getting along for Josie’s sake she had put her petty feelings in the forefront.

These people made me so angry.

How did I ever think I could rekindle anything with Gray? As much as I was to blame, I realize, Gray couldn’t even be kind in the end. Just because the year apart was good to him didn’t mean he would still be good for me.

I think about the man laying beside me, in a hypothetical situation if things got ugly I instinctively want to say he would be cruel too. But I have to push past the persona he claimed to have put up and think about the glimpses of the man I saw underneath. Something tells me he would be just as fiery in letting me know how he was feeling. But with his recent apologies I’m not as convinced he would go out of his way to hurt me again.

Even in the bar last night, I just assumed he called me Mrs. Duran to be cruel but he hadn’t known. Or when I had assumed at Josie’s birthday party I would be fired for forgetting wine because he was an asshole when really he just acted like one so I wouldn’t feel worse.

How many times had I judged people because of how skewed my own lens was? It’s a sobering reminder.

Josie’s face flashes through my mind and I tear up at knowing we were going to cut each other out. No matter how much we loved each other staying in touch at this rate was no longer sustainable. For her best interest.

I think of my younger brother back home, my older sister, our family of 5. When I went back home there was so much to catch up on and eventually, apologize for. I had missed out on so much of my family’s life because I believed I needed to leave to grow. Well, life sure handed me a lot of lessons but I needed to go back home to plant them and let me grow.

Harry stirs beside me, nuzzling my neck in his sleep. I feel myself go teary eyed for no reason.

I wondered if this was just a one-night thing. If we would see each other again while I was in London. Did I want to see him? My heart sings yes immediately.

Damn.

What was it about him that pushed my emotions to the highest highs and lowest lows. How did he know every button to push and every bruise to kiss. This had to be toxic, we couldn’t just take our great big baggage of a past and see each other casually while I was in London. It couldn’t be that easy.

What if it was, hope whispers. I squirm. Could I forgive Harry for everything he’d done?

“Y’sleeping?” Harry mumbles to my left. Shit.

“Yeah,” I say which invokes a throaty chuckle from him. I check the time, it was nearly 4. Double shit.

“Liar,” he tugs on my hips and I turn to face him. “Talk to me.”

I couldn’t. Half of my thought were about him. And how could I tell him I was thinking about my ex after spending the night with him. So I just shake my head.

“Please?” He brushes my cheek with his thumb. “You need to sleep.”

“I-“ I try to say I can’t but the words get stuck in my throat. The emotions of everything I’d been thinking in the last couple hours threaten to dislodge the words from my throat so I close my mouth. But it doesn’t work.

A sob bursts out of me and before I can reel it all in the floodgates swing open and it carries all the pent-up sorrow and confusion, grief and anguish I had bottled up.

Harry freezes for a moment, probably very confused to wake up and have me reacting this way. But he recovers and pulls me into his warm chest.

“What is going on in that head of yours love,” Harry murmurs. Love. I sob even harder.

He murmurs reassuring words whilst stroking my back and I cry an embarrassing amount in the same bed where just hours ago I was blissed beyond comprehension. Life moves fast.

Finally when I gain enough composure I lean away, covering my face because crying into him was one thing but seeing my ugly cry face was another.

“Here,” I feel his body move and then tissues pressed into my hand. I’m grateful for them but I wasn’t going to blow my nose here. I sit up and try to dry my nose. His hand reaches out and the tips of his fingers rest on my spine like he was tethering my lost body to him. Somehow even that is reassuring.

“Don’t go trying to kiss my nose this early on again,” I try to joke through a stuffy voice.

“I wouldn’t dare,” he tugs my arm a little and I fall back beside him. He holds me in both his arms and I watch in horror and affection as he kisses the tip of my nose.

“Stop being so nice,” I laugh and cry a little too.

“You’re actually complaining about me being nice?”

“No I just—I’m not used to it,” I press the tissue to my eyes again.

“Well get used to it,” he peels the hair off of my face and pushes it back. “I don’t want to be the one hurting you. I swear to never ever be the reason you cry like this to anyone.”

“Don’t say those sorts of things if you don’t mean it.”

“I do,” he caresses my face. “You’re breaking my heart y/n, I don’t know who hurt you but I never want to see you like this. Especially not because of me alright? I’m sorry if I ever-“

“Stop,” I put my hand to his mouth. Which is kind of gross since I just blew my nose but I’m pretty sure him kissing my snotty nose means he didn’t care.

“But-“ he says behind my hand.

“I’m embarrassed right now,” I admit.

“You have seen me in every compromising situation,” Harry says. “And we have been through too much together to be embarrassed right now.”

“Fine,” I sigh. “It is tiring.”

“Maybe you can finally sleep now that it’s…almost 5?”

“Sorry,” I sigh. “I hope you don’t have something early?”

“Nope,” he kisses the top of my head. “And even if I did it wouldn’t matter.”

So we both try to go back to bed and I manage to fall asleep, all of those tiring racing thoughts washed away by a good cry. I feel warm and cared for and vulnerable and protected. A stark change from how Harry has made me feel before. Maybe this was temporary or maybe this was the start of something new. I’m just taking it minute by minute while all I can think is Do I or Don’t I?

***

It’s my final week in London and if you’d asked me a couple weeks ago if I was looking forward to going back home I would have said without hesitation yes.

But that night at Harry’s and putting my past to rest brushes away an old and tired film I had been viewing the city with since I landed.

We had seen each other a couple times a week since—I’ve been cautious despite my body saying otherwise. There were many days I had been free but I had made up some excuse not to see him, I was scared of getting too attached and having to leave.

But I can’t deny how nice it was to be with Harry without any labels. Most of the time I went over to his, it was tricky going out somewhere too public and risking getting papped. Together we just talk about life and work, my life back in America and my relationship with my family, his life growing up and his relationship with stardom. We watch movies and listen to music and make jokes and I open up a little about what had been weighing on my mind that night.

Winnie teases me that I was lighter than she’s ever seen me, that London looked good on me. I tell her she’s crazy. But even Oretta admits it when Winnie brings it up to her.

Harry makes the effort to make up for how he acted until it’s not just words. I believe what he was saying. And I admit to my faults too.

We still get under each other’s skin.

The thing we argue about the most is an opportunity Harry tries to get me to sign off on. The link he texted me when I was in Cambridge was an upcoming single one of his friends was releasing and he wanted to get me to bid on executing a music video for it. I tell him he was nuts and that I had no experience, plus I had a job. But he persists. He thinks I should explore putting my creative skills to use and not just my organizational skills. The arguing continues.

I have a date with him tonight, at the same bar we bumped into each other that first night. I have a question I’d been meaning to ask him.

“You aren’t actually a regular here are you?” I ask when we’ve settled.

“Of course I am,” he says but I know he’s lying. I raise my brow and he looks everywhere but at me. “Fine. I’m not.”

“So how the hell did you end up here that night?”

“Coincidence.”

“Liar.”

“I’m an honest man.”

“Truth please?”

“You’re embarrassing me here let’s move on.”

“Nuh-uh,” I’m enjoying his bright cheeks and darting eyes. “Did you stalk me or something?”

“I…I knew this was a local spot for you. Or was.”

“Really? How?”

“You mentioned it a few times? And I dropped you off here once after work.”

He might’ve. I’d met many friends and especially Gray here. I motion for him to continue.

“I might’ve known you were in town, might’ve found out you were here and…”

“So you did stalk me,” I gasp. “Oh my god ladies and gents he is obsessed.”

“That’s a strong word.” He argues.

“You. Stalked. Me.”

“Oh fine, I’ll confess: I’m used to the stalkers and I thought it was high time I did some stalking and see what the fun was all about,” he joins in on making fun of himself.

“Someone get me a restraining order,” I say just as someone approaches our table with drinks. As soon as they leave we burst out laughing.

“So have you given the music video any more thought?” Harry asks as the evening continues.

“Can we not talk about this right now?” I ask.

“I just think you should give it serious thought. I know you want to go into PR, be somebody’s Graham, but you have a really good eye for this thing. Before you pursue what you think you want, try this out.”

“You’re one dude,” I say again. “Who believes I can do this. You want me to throw away the career I’ve worked on for years to dabble in this and potentially waste time instead of getting to where I want?”

“Firstly, if you love doing something it’s not time wasted. And secondly you only ever need just one person to believe in you, angel.”

His fingers brush mine on the table, the familiar electricity courses through me just through the small touch. And of course, his use of pet names always turned me to putty. I hated how malleable he made me.

“Consider it. Just write a proposal y/n, it’s not betraying Oretta or anything. I can talk to her if you want if they choose your idea.”

It was scary putting myself out there for something I didn’t believe in myself for. But my echoes of burnout grow towards the idea of doing something less demanding than being an assistant just like a sunflower to the sun. It basks in letting my creativity flow.

“I’ll think about it.”

“Not for too long,” he taps my fingers again. We were cautious about being too touchy in public, even in a place like this where people genuinely didn’t care who he was. “Proposal’s due at the end of next week.”

When I would be back home in America. Away from here. Him.

We hadn’t talked about it, if we would try to keep in touch. I can’t really imagine a long-distance thing with Harry. Not at this stage. Mostly we enjoyed being in each other’s company and I was scared forcing labels just because we would be apart would ruin this fragile thing.

“Fine.” He’d worn me down and I submit. “Fine I’ll get something in for you.”

He pulls back with a shocked expression. “Did I just convince the stubborn y/n y/l/n to do something she didn’t want to do?”

I scowl. “Don’t get used to it.”

“I won’t,” he laughs, waving his hands around him like he was fanning in an aroma. “I’m soaking this in though.”

“Whatever,” I say with a smile.

“You make me work hard,” he smiles back. “For everything y/n. That’s one of the things I l-I-that I really like about you.”

We ignore the near slip of something far too serious for what we had going. We move past it but it sets my heart racing.

“So this friend of yours,” I change the subject. “With the music video. Didn’t you guys have like, beef when you were on tour? All that article stuff?”

“You of all people should know not to believe what you see online. It was all manipulated and put out of context.”

“I know but you were all moody for all your shows afterwards. I remember Jeff and Graham complaining. I assumed the articles had worn you down a bit.”

He raises a brow like he’s waiting on me to figure something out.

“What?”

“Really? You think it was the artcles?”

“Well what else happened that-“

Oh god. Was I that stupid?

Of course it wasn’t the articles, it was me! Us.

A smile stretches over the contours of his face as realization dawns on mine, “Twice in a row I’ve got you today, I should buy a lottery ticket.”

“I’m off my game today is all, don’t get used to it.”

I can’t believe it. Not that I didn’t believe Harry after the last few weeks but I—that night—really meant that much to him that his feelings over it had affected the rest of his tour? I had affected his tour?

“Why didn’t you say anything if it was weighing on you so much? If I recall I tried to talk to you a couple times.” I ask.

“What could I say,” he snorts. “You were engaged and my loss of control was why you cheated. Then you were quitting and I knew if I said anything you might have stayed. I didn’t want to keep you where you didn’t want to be.”

His words tug at my heart. He really had thought up a storm.

“Harry,” I lean back. “Gray and I broke up before I joined you guys on tour again. We weren’t cheating.”

His forehead creases, “What?! But you were together at my London show. I thought you two broke up after you moved back home?”

“No,” I guess in the last few weeks I’d just mentioned we broke up a long time ago. He didn’t know any specifics. “We were fake-together because he hadn’t broken the news to his sister then. But that’s why I was all…y’know in Barcelona-“

“Fuck me,” he groans. “No wonder you thought I was an ass for pulling you away-“

“Well you were-“

“Yeah alright-“

“Why did you really pull me away though?”

“I…I was feeling a bit possessive.”

“What?”

I wasn’t expecting that to come out of his mouth. He smiles sheepishly, “I thought we already came to terms with that.”

My stomach does a few somersaults. Until tonight I don’t think I’ve really focused on the magnitude of how Harry felt back then. Parts of my mind were still remembering him as a prick just because it was easier to remember my side of things. But this spins things in a brighter light.

“I was just your assistant though.”

“Y/N,” he tilts his head to the side. “Did I not already tell you what I thought about you that night in my flat?”

“Yeah but-“

“I’d never met anyone like you, I really liked you. I couldn’t have you though and I had to push you away constantly. And that drove me a bit crazy sometimes.”

I let out a noisy breath, wondering if how he felt about me was just as intense now as it was then. A part of me knows it must be. Feelings like that didn’t fade. But here I was, barely knowing what it was I felt for him. All I knew was that it was nice when we were together.

Why me, I want to ask. But I hold back. It wasn’t a question I could ask my ex-employer current-lover part-time-asshole.

“Sorry,” he apologizes. “Was that a bit strong?”

“No,” I sigh again and he laughs. “Fine. A little. But it’s fine, I’m okay.”

“Okay,” he believes me. “So you broke off your engagement and didn’t tell anyone?”

“Kinda, we weren’t in a place we could come back from. We decided that mutually after things blew up. He didn’t even know I was leaving the country actually.”

Harry whistles. “You ran out on all of us.”

I scratch the side of my head, “Maybe?”

“Well I’ve enjoyed having you again, here.” He says with sincerity. “I’m really relieved to be able to get to say everything I wanted to your face.”

I agree. Neither of us mention I was leaving later in the week.

Even by the night before I’m leaving London we still hadn’t discussed a thing. But there’s a heaviness to us as we have dinner at his, as we pretend to watch a movie only to cuddle on the couch. We lay there facing each other and I trace his eyes, his nose, his wonderful mouth. It’s so odd to me that this was the same Harry Styles performing in sold out venues and on the walls of teenage bedrooms. That I got to have him in these quiet moments and be present.

I feel so grateful for this. That I didn’t have to carry around these draining stories within me anymore, that it felt like it happened to someone else. In a way even if nothing came from all this, I got closure. I was able to move on now.

I imagine my heart and it feels like when you take a stroll mid-March and realize nature was healing from winter’s blues. Warm and blooming the earth was growing again—my heart was growing stronger. Now the idea of a date or a partner didn’t seem so daunting and exhausting. I would never have guessed that it would take the man who almost broke me to come into my life again for me to see how to fit those pieces back in place again.

“I don’t know what I’m gonna do not having you in town anymore,” his lashes flutter as I run my hand through his hair. It was still shorter than I was used to but it had grown in the last three weeks.

“Oh you’ll be fine,” I say. “I’ve worked on your schedule before: meetings and studio sessions and photoshoots and interviews.”

“A busy life isn’t always a full one,” he whispers. And it’s the closest thing to a confession we were going to get to. I cover his mouth with mine and we indulge in each other one final time.

There is a symphony of unexpected but undeniable intimacy woven between the beats of our entwined hearts. I know I would probably never feel this way with anyone and I don’t think I’d want to. Being with Harry was passion. It was losing myself and finding myself at the same time. It was being vulnerable and guarded and cherished and known.

My flight out tomorrow is around noon but I can’t stay the night as I’d have to help Oretta in the morning to make sure everything gets to the airport in time. Harry walks me down to his lobby and we stand there for a few, just holding each other tight. He doesn’t ask me to stay and I don’t ask him to come.

“This isn’t goodbye y/n,” Harry says when we part. His hand rests on his heart. I know the feeling, mine aches so hard I want to press my hand to it just to tell it everything would be fine.

“No,” I shake my head. My eyes had been teary ever since he squeezed me to him. “We’ll talk soon.”

“You’ll be directing music videos soon.”

I roll my eyes, “I’m still working on the proposal.”

“I have a good feeling about it.”

“That makes one of us. But…thanks for believing in me.”

“Thanks for believing in me,” he whispers. “Even when you didn’t have to.”

I’m glad I did. The only time in my life not paying attention to the warning bells had paid off.

“I’ve been working with this new producer and he wants me to come out to a studio in Cotati?” Harry mentions. “How far is that from where you are? Are you still in m Burbank?”

“Burbank’s where my parents are,” I shake my head. I look up what he’s talking about and feel a thrill when it’s less than a couple hours. Still, I try to maintain neutrality. “A little over an hour?”

“Well,” he brushes my hair over my shoulder and keeps his eyes looking just over it. “Depending on what you’re doing—maybe if you’re free…we can see each other again?”

I would love that. My heart is bursting just thinking of getting to have him in the place I called home. Of this meaning something. Of him wanting to see me again.

“Of course if you have a boyfriend by then and he doesn’t want you to see me that’s…I mean, live your life and if it works out we-“

“Yes,” I cut him off. “Yeah. Let’s see but that sounds good.”

He meets my gaze and I laugh a little, he was nervous and that was rare.

“Good,” he smiles with. “Until next time.”

“Until next time,” I step into his arms and it’s a quick affair before he steps away. I turn to head out the door, shielding my eyes from him. Not wanting him to see that this was stupidly hard to say goodbye.

He waves me off and I head back to my hotel with a heavy heart. But I think about him asking to see me again. Who knows when that would be. And I know this wasn’t the end of our story.

***

I’m happy to land in SFO the following evening, happy to busy myself with Oretta’s business, happy to have Winnie chattering away. I spent parts of the flight I wasn’t sleeping working on my MV proposal and it awakens a familiar passion inside of me I’d been afraid I’d lost.

I send out a silent thanks to Harry for knowing what was good for me.

I think of Harry often, Gray even less until I don’t think of him at all. I dream of London weekly; I missed it this time around. And as life resumes again I anticipate the change I sense on the horizon.

So when life gives me lemons I stop asking Do I or Don’t I. If one thing the last year has taught me was I had to listen to my gut and look at the signs. I had to start asking what I wanted and go after it. Even though Harry and I barely talk, I remember the lessons he’s taught me.

I stop looking to others to make decisions. There’s no guidebook or lists to help me make my decisions either. I take deep breaths and I believe in myself.

I build a new life on the remains of my old. I don’t let it dictate what I did anymore, I simply leave it as the foundation to elevate me even higher. I reach for the sky with my feet planted firmly on the ground. And I grow with reckless abandon.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

TAGLIST: @boomitsallie1 @indierockgirrl @ndunad @jerseygirlinca @sunshinemoonsposts @ninasw0rld @love-letters-to-uranus @mayamonroem @sassamanda77 @harryspirate

🤍

Epilogue

[green-agent]

Crush

Jung Wooyoung x fem!Reader

Highschool au, Implied academic rivals to lovers.

Genre: fluff, crack, slight jealousy

W.C: 600

Warning: mentions of a playboy (not Woo) let me know if I missed something.

Note: Just randomly had this idea. I was having a long writer's block cus of Brewing Love Next Door so the series can continue later.

"You have a crush on her"

"I do not!", said a furious Wooyoung. Making Yeosang roll his eyes.

"then why are you so interested in her love life?", San added, slamming shut his notebook.

"Look, I just don't want her to date Jinwoo, okay? He's a playboy, she's gonna get her heart broken." Wooyoung scoffed.

"First of all, she isn't an idiot. Second of all, if you dislike her so much, why do you care if she gets her heart broken?" Said Yeosang in a 'are you dumb' tone, opening a book on Mathematics.

"And seriously, do you think she would want to date Jinwoo?" Mingi spoke.

"I mean... he's handsome. So…" Wooyoung mumbled, suddenly feeling insecure.

"and he has dated half the girls in our class. It's no surprise. Y/n, out of everything, knows good. I mean Ruka, her best friend at that time, dated Jinwoo and now? She hates the word love." Yunho stated.

"Ruka also hates Y/n, what about it?"

"Wooyoung, you just have to admit. The feeling you're feeling right now is jealousy.", Explained Mingi.

"I'm not jealous!" Wooyoung said a little loudly, earning a glare from the librarian.

"said every male lead after seeing the female lead with another guy." Yeosang stated with annoyance.

"And what if I do like her?" Wooyoung sighed, annoyed by his friends' nagging.

Yunho,Yeosang, San and Mingi exchanged victorious looks.

"Then you should confess" Yunho grinned.

"HELL NO"

"Mr. Jung, do we need to talk?" Said the librarian, glaring at Wooyoung, who quickly apologized and 'no'.

"hell no" he repeated.

"do you want her to date Jinwoo, then? No, right? Then confess" San said as if it was the most obvious thing.

A familiar classmate and friend tapped on Wooyoung's shoulder. "And who is it that you like?"

Annoyed, Wooyoung replied before turning around, "don't be oblivious, Jongho, it's Y/n-", and once he had turned around, he definitely didn't expect to see You. All grinning. How was he that big of an idiot to not differentiate between his friend and crush?

"you have a crush on me?", You said, grinning at him.

"y-y/n, what are you doing here?…" He stuttered, making the other four boys have a hard time not laughing.

"if you somehow managed to forgot, Wooyoungie, the library is my second favorite place in this school" You said, adding the nickname to tease him.

"and the first?" Jongho finally came back to the table with the book on Biology he was looking for.

"the cafeteria. But that's not what I'm here for. I was originally here to ask you out on a date. So, Wooyoung, wanna go out with me?" You said, loving the effect you had on him.

He was kinda... okay not kinda, but very red.

"date? Oh-um... y-yeah...sure, I'd go with you", he managed to speak.

"great, so I'll meet you this evening, at the Destiny Cafe. Like at...5?"

"sounds great..."

"I'll see you later, then. Bye!" You said, walking out of the Library with a proud smile.

And Wooyoung stood there, red. Blushing and smiling. Internally screaming cus oh em gee! His crush asked him out.

"oh my, Woo, she asked you out first!"

"yeah, you better not be a dumbass during the date"

"buy her flowers!"

"and if you have time, bake or cook her something delicious"

The four sentences were said by his friends, who said what, he didn't remember. He was too happy to listen.

You asked him out.

His crush asked him out.

If you are a reader of Brewing Love Next Door, I'm sorry to inform you but the updates will be very late. I'm sorry again 😔.

Taglist: none (send an ask or dm me to be tagged. Either in Ateez works, all my works or the TXT ones)

Divider: @cafekitsune

[sarawritestories]

Oh Hello

Hello, Lovelies!

It's been a while I have had, an influx of people asking about updates for series, and life and making sure I'm okay and I just want to come one here and say. THANK YOU. You all are truly so sweet and kind and supportive and the DM's and the asks have really filled my cup.

Seriously in January when I started if you would have told me I would be sitting here writing to people who are itching to read more of my writing I would have laughed and been like, these little stories that are un-edited and riddled with errors. But here we are and I'm so happy you are all here.

Here is a much needed updated (I am aware no one is obligated to one but we're all friends here and I'll be giving updates for future works.)

A Life Update

So what's going on in the next few months you may ask?

I move in 6 days and my Apartment looks like we haven't touched it. A big chunk of packing will get done this weekend, but it's a tad bit stressful.

That being said in two months, I get married! Which is exciting and I have talked about it before. But we are so close I'm getting excited!

I think when Halloween comes around I'm not going to know what to do with myself not having anything to plan or do (Besides looking for a new job closer to my new home).

Writing Update

As life is going on even though I haven't been posting, and I have been hit with the biggest slump I've had (Reading , writing, drawing, I was having none of it).

However, I have still been plotting and writing behind the scenes! Though my brain has been consumed with a novel idea that I'm working diligently to pursue and write from beginning to end.

But Sara what about Unwavering Presence? All Too Well? I Wanna Be Yours?

I'm so glad you asked!

All of my series at the moment are on a brief hiatus. I love these characters so deeply that when I continue their story I don't want it to feel forced, or like I was rushing to get it done. Their stories deserve to be told in the way I want them to with care and love. Once my life starts to settle I'll get back into the throes of it!

Now There are some one shots that people want sequels for, or The Dark Side of Prythian series and the Mermaid series I promised and I they will come. But my brain can really only operate on 1000 words stories maybe 2000 if I'm lucky. So as you all have already have been so patient with me. I ask for just a little more for my life to settle as I'm making some big life changes and moving into this new and exciting phase of life with the person I love the most and our four legged companion!

As inspiration strikes I will post one shots, because I am not going anywhere and if you want to say hi feel free! I love yapping!

Alright, I am going to end this updated with this.

Thank you to my Mutuals, anons, and new friends, for being so kind and checking in on me. Most importantly thank you for giving my stories and my characters a chance and reminding me that I am at my a core a dreamer.

XOXO Sara

[actuallycassidyiambusy]

Duuuude you're brave for posting your art on Twitter. People over there are fucking crybabies and will literally harass you for drawing fake people in a way they don't like.

I'm not one of them. I love your art and the way you draw. Bluffy is my new favorite ship because of you. I'm just saying you're bold as fuck and I seriously envy your courage.

This pisses me off for several reasons. First, I'll be clear. Anon, you did not piss me off in any way, so do not be put off by the aggression of my reply.

Nobody should be fucking scared to post their art anywhere. Art of fictional characters doing WHATEVER is exactly what it is. Art and fiction. I am so goddamn tired of these prissy fucking babies coming at artists who are simply enjoying themselves. "Antis" and the whole "proship dni" community who base their morality on how you portray fiction can suck a fat fucking cock. They so desperately tell us not to interact with them, but the moment we post something we're proud of, all of a sudden they wanna talk. All of a sudden, interaction is okay. As long as it's an attack from THEM. As long as they can degrade, threaten and make us feel like we don't have any right to enjoy something that literally doesn't fucking hurt them.

They can come at me from right and fucking left, I'll still fucking post whatever the hell I want. They know where the block button is. They know how to filter tags. If they'd rather come onto my post that had nothing to do with them in the first place, and bitch at me, I'll gladly post more. Shit, I'll post it AGAIN and tag them if they want to play around. I don't put up with hate and I certainly don't put up with people who wanna cry and come at me for something that's fucking FAKE.

LET PEOPLE FUCKING ENJOY THINGS. FOR FUCK'S SAKE. Anons come into my inbox or people dm me asking me to light someone up for bullying or threatening that they receive. What do you fuckers gain by screenshotting and blasting artists who don't even fucking know you? What do you gain by bitching and crying at artists who just want to enjoy their ships or literally anything else? Screenshot me, bitch. Go ahead. Post your petty little comments about how wrong I am and how you're morally superior because you would NEVER. Go off about a fictional piece that "hurts" you while you continue to hurt the artist who created it even more. OR, and this is just a mere suggestion, you can move on from your high school stage, grow the fuck up, and learn how to scroll past shit you don't like. It's the fucking internet, sweetheart.

Post whatever the fuck you want. INDULGE in that shit. Enjoy your kinks and your fantasies. Enjoy your fictional characters kissing and falling in love in seventeen different ways. Draw it, write it, read it, post it. And if someone wants to bother you, hell, you know where the block button is too. No shame in blocking people and keeping your peace. Surround yourself with people who fucking encourage you and all your weird shit. It makes you happy. That's what matters.

Once again anon, I am not mad at you lmao. I'm mad at people who can't separate fiction from reality, and feel the need to drag those who CAN through the mud.

[aanoia]

𝒅𝒂𝒚 𝒕𝒉𝒓𝒆𝒆 - 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒚𝒆𝒂𝒓

Remus Lupin x reader day three of the christmas advent calendar words; 654 warnings; none this one is short but also rly cute <3

“Y/n, you’re ridiculous. It’s only November.” Remus said with a smile as I determinedly pulled out Christmas decorations.

I paused and looked the man dead in the eye, “I have suffered through Halloween for a month. It’s Christmas time, bitch.” I continued my search. 

Remus laughed and joined me while shaking his head. 

“We need a tree.” I said, slightly out of breath as I looked over the dozens of boxes of Christmas decorations in our living room.

Remus kissed the side of my head, “That we do.”

I shivered in the cold air of the winter as we walked through the tree farm. I held tightly onto the warm cup of muggle coffee Remus picked up for us on our way here. Every tree was different from the last, each unique in its own special way. I smiled at the baby trees as we passed, knowing that by this time next year they’ll be big and strong,

“What about this one?” I asked, pointing to a long and narrow tree. 

Remus side eyed me, “You’re serious?”

I shrugged, “Why not?”

“It’s ugly.”

I rolled my eyes, “Okay, what about this one.” I said, pointing to one that was really short and wide.

“Y/n, you have terrible taste in trees.” Remus said seriously and I scoffed.

“I have great taste, what are you talking about?” I mumbled to myself as a tree caught Remus’ eye and he scurried away. I groaned, “Ugh, leaving me behind. What a bully.” I said quietly to myself as I made my way over to him, careful to avoid the muddy puddles. 

Remus stared wide eyed at a tree. It was medium height and stocky, very cute.

“It’s perfect.” He said, bending down to cut the trunk. I shook my head with a smile, quietly taking a sip of my coffee. 

Remus grunted as he dragged the tree through our door, sweat coating his brow. He dragged it to the stand and with a final push of his strength he lifted it and set it down, sighing in relief once the weight was gone. He bent down and quickly screwed in the nobs.

“Is it straight?” He asked from beneath the tree.

I studied it for a moment, “Yes, it is.”

“Good.” He smiled, coming out from under the tree.

“It’s perfect, Rem.” I smiled as he softly pressed his lips to mine. 

“You’re perfect.”

“Let’s decorate.”

“Okay, just get on my shoulders and put the star on.” He urged and I shook my head.

“That sounds like a horrible idea. I didn’t survive a war just to die from your shoulders.” I said and he laughed gently, his eyes sparkling from the Christmas lights on the tree.

“Do you wanna put the star on or not?”

I rolled my eyes, “Fine.” I stepped onto the coffee table as he knelt down, the star clutched in his hand as he waited. Carefully, I lifted a leg over his shoulder, and then the next. Immediately I lost balance and clutched tightly onto his head. He stayed strong, cementing himself in place.

“I can’t see.” He said with a light tone and I moved my hands from his eyes.

“My bad.” I apologized sheepishly.

“Okay, I’m standing in one, two-” I squealed as he quickly stood, bending my back and practically hugging his head. He laughed loudly, “It’s okay now.” 

I took a deep breath and straightened out, alarmed at the big difference of height.

“Woah, I’m tall.” I breathed as he handed me the star and carefully walked to the tree. I smiled as I placed the star on top of the tree. He took a step back so we could admire our work and I bent over his head again, leveling my face with his.

“It’s gorgeous.” I whispered, ignoring the pain in my neck.

“You’re a dork.” He said and kissed my upside down lips softly.

my masterlist

If you'd like to be added to my main or christmas taglist comment or DM me!

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[kanerallels]

But You Walked In The Room And I Knew At Our First Glance, With You I Wanna Dance

@kaneraweek day 2: reunion!! I went with a unique take on the prompt, and it ended up kinda long. Hope y'all enjoy it!!

Taglist: @accidental-spice @day-to-day-thots @auroramagpie @opalknight @cassie-fanfics @ana-cantskywalker @nyxlotl (DM me or send me an ask if you want to be added or removed from the tag list!

Read on AO3!

Hera remembered her high school years fairly well. It was strange to think that it was already ten years since she’d graduated. She definitely didn’t feel old enough for that—although some days and late nights at work made her feel twice that old.

To be fair, she was a year younger than most of her classmates. She’d been a smart kid, smart enough that they’d moved her up a grade when she graduated to high school, and kept up with the other kids easily. It was those smarts that had gotten her through college if not easily, at least fairly smoothly.

And here she was, ten years after the whole experience, about to go to a reunion of her graduating class. And dreading it immensely.

“It can’t possibly be that bad,” her roommate, Omega, scoffed from where she was sitting on her bed, watching Hera get ready in the adjoining bathroom. “I mean, it’s a bunch of your friends. Aren’t you excited to see them again?”

“Some of them,” Hera admitted as she carefully applied mascara. “Lucy—she’s the one who organized the whole event—was always sweet. And it’s going to be very satisfying to see if Gabby brings Matt. They had the biggest crushes on each other back then, and now they work together.”

Omega grinned. “Nice. So what’s the big deal?”

Hera grimaced a little. “Well…”

Her friend held up a hand. “Ah, right. That guy you hate is gonna be there. I still don’t get why he’s so bad.”

Capping the mascara brush with a little more force than strictly necessary, Hera tossed it to the side. “That’s because you never met him.”

“I may as well have,” Omega remarked. Clearing her throat, she imitated Hera’s voice. “‘Kanan Jarrus was an arrogant, wise-cracking jerk who thought he was sooooo much better than all of us. I’d be glad if I never saw his stupid face again, no matter how cute I found it.’”

Shooting Omega an offended look, Hera said, “I did not find him cute.”

Omega shrugged innocently. “You talk about him an awful lot for someone who doesn’t find him cute.”

Sighing with annoyance, Hera turned back to the mirror. It was true, she’d ranted about Kanan a time or two to Omega. But in her defense, he was an obnoxious little jerk.

He’d been two years older than her, but thanks to a late birthday and homeschooling most of his life, he’d stayed back a grade. Hera’s first year of high school had been his first year as well, and they’d immediately clashed.

In her defense, he’d acted like he knew everything and took nothing seriously. And worst of all, despite seeming to ignore all the school work they were given, Kanan had matched Hera at every test and quiz. It had infuriated her, and she’d done everything in her power to defeat him at every turn.

This had continued throughout high school—to their friend’s dismay—and into the first year of college, when they discovered they’d gone to the same school. But then, a few months into her sophomore year, Hera’s mother had fallen ill. Hera had raced home, just in time to say goodbye.

It had been hard to go back after the funeral. But she’d forced herself to, regardless. The thought of Kanan getting ahead was a keen motivation.

But then she’d come back, and Kanan was gone.

At the time, she’d simply thought, good, and moved on. Later, she’d thought to wonder where he’d gone—but schoolwork and life was all consuming. Hera didn’t have time to look up someone who’d annoyed her most of her life.

(not all of it, she had to admit, if only to herself. There were times when Kanan had been…not awful. But she didn’t spend much time dwelling on that.)

Finishing her makeup, Hera turned to face Omega and spread her arms. “Well? How do I look?”

Her friend scrutinized her, taking in her outfit—a soft orange dress that contrasted her green skin beautifully, with a full skirt and wide sleeves that hit just above her elbows, one slightly off the shoulder. Nodding in approval, Omega said, “I’m so glad you let us convince you to wear a dress.”

Grimacing, Hera said, “I’d better not regret it by the end of the night.”

Omega headed with her out into the main room of their apartment, where Hera slid on her boots and grabbed her purse and a jacket. As she pulled it on, she told Omega, “If I text you the code phrase, call me and make up some excuse to get me home.”

Laughing, Omega said, “I’m sure it won’t be that bad. Have a good time.”

“I wouldn’t bet on it,” Hera muttered darkly as she headed out the door.

~~~

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look this nervous.”

Kanan glared at the grinning face of his friend, Kelly Severide. The other man looked far too amused about this situation. “I’m not nervous.”

This was a complete lie. Kanan was definitely nervous, and they both knew it. They both knew exactly why. Severide had been a year ahead of him in their high school, but they’d been pretty good friends. He’d even been there when Kanan had realized—

Enough of that. The more you think about her, the more nervous you’ll be.

“I can see you trying not to think about it,” Severide observed. “You know, I’m not exactly a great example of working through your feelings, but if you want to talk about it—”

“I’m fine,” Kanan cut him off. “Remind me why you’re coming to this event again? This isn’t your class.”

“Cause Lucy invited me. And I’m invested,” Severide added, wiggling his eyebrows. Kanan chose to ignore it.

The two of them were driving together, in Severide’s Mustang, to the event center where the Lothal City High School’s Class of ‘15 Reunion was happening. It was going to be a great event, Kanan was sure of that. Lucy, the organizer, had always been good at that kind of thing.

That wasn’t why he was nervous. He was nervous because he was about to see, for the first time in years, someone who was…important seemed a strange word for it. Hera Syndulla had shaped so much of his formative years, pushing him to work harder than he would have otherwise.

He’d kind of hated her for a couple years. She’d seemed so obnoxiously sure that she knew everything, and Kanan hadn’t been in a great place when he’d had to leave his peaceful existence as a homeschooler to head into high school. So he’d pushed back, and found that irritating her was an outlet. One that turned out to be kind of fun.

But also, just because he’d been homeschooled didn’t mean he was going to let some prodigy school him. Kanan had been ahead of almost everyone in their school, with the exception of Hera. They’d competed fiercely for the three years they’d been in school together.

And yet, that last year, things had felt different. Kanan hadn’t really been able to put a name to it for a while. Certain friends of his (namely, Severide, and his best friends Matt and Andy) had claimed that Kanan had a crush on Hera. Kanan had scoffed and ignored the commentary.

And then they’d wound up at the same college, with Hera the only familiar figure in a school full of strangers, and Kanan had started to wonder if there was a reason he listened more closely when she raised her hand in class, or why his eyes always managed to find her in a crowd.

He really hated it when Severide was right.

But just as he started thinking about it, things had changed.

(He’d seen Hera slip out of class ten minutes before it finished, and headed after her, figuring he’d offer her his notes and maybe a few teasing comments. See if he could make things a little less tense between them.

But then he’d found her in an empty hallway, clutching her phone with a death grip and staring at the wall. And the look in her eyes…Kanan knew it all too well. He’d felt it, seen it in his grandfather’s face when he’d gotten the news about Depa.

“Are you okay?” he asked, throwing aside any pretense as he approached.

Hera looked up, and for a moment Kanan wondered if she was going to punch him. But then her face crumpled and the tears spilled forth. “It’s my mom,” she whispered, choking back a sob.

And Kanan, despite their animosity, despite how much he knew she didn’t like him, felt his heart break a little for her in that moment. Stepping forward, he’d pulled her into a hug, and let her just cry.)

Hera had left the school to go see her mother. She’d only been gone for a few weeks when Kanan found himself leaving the school behind, too. And he was leaving for good—the fire academy he’d taken a test for had accepted him, and he needed to be there ASAP. So Kanan had left, finishing his associates degree online, and went to become a firefighter.

Overall, it turned out well. He loved what he was doing now, and he probably wouldn’t have had the patience for three more years of that school. But Kanan had never seen Hera again, and there were many times he wondered, with a twinge, what would have happened if he’d stayed. He knew vaguely where she was at, thanks to mutual friends, but they hadn’t seen each other in nine years.

And, as Severide pulled into the parking lot, that was about to change.

They parked, and Kanan bailed out of the car before Severide could start joking about being his wingman or something like that—he really needed to remember to not tell Severide about things like this—and headed toward the building. The nervousness built in his chest, but he wasn’t about to give in to it.

The curiosity was stronger, anyway. For the most part. He stopped at the door and glanced back to see if Severide was keeping up. He was only a few steps behind him, and was wearing a decidedly obnoxious grin. “In a hurry for some reason?”

“I just didn’t want to be stuck in a car with you anymore,” Kanan informed him, pulling the door open. “Ready to go?”

“Absolutely. Hey, you want me to talk you up in there? I can be a great wingman—”

“We both know that is absolutely not true,” Kanan told him. “So don’t even think of it.”

Severide laughed, and then they were inside.

The room was tastefully decorated, with hanging lights, a “Class of ‘15” banner hanging from the ceiling, and tables surrounded with folding chairs clustered here and there. A long buffet table outlined the far wall. There were already quite a crowd of people here, and Kanan vaguely recognized some of them. He hadn’t been close to many of the people in his grade, though.

“There’s Matt and Gabby,” Severide said, and Kanan followed his gesture to where the couple were standing by the buffet table, arm in arm. “How many people do you think have said “I told you so” about the dating thing so far?”

Kanan started to answer—and then his words stuck in his throat as he spotted the two women talking with Matt and Gabby.

The first he vaguely registered as being Lucy, the woman who’d set up the whole reunion. She’d been friends with almost everyone in their grade, despite not being the most popular among them, and had stayed more connected than anyone else.

And then next to her, in an orange dress that lit up like a sunrise against her green skin, was Hera Syndulla.

She was…different. Taller, and looked stunningly elegant and self-assured. The warmth of the smile she directed at Lucy was enough to stop Kanan dead in his tracks and…kriff. Even from a distance he could hear her voice. There weren’t enough words in the galaxy to describe that voice—like the song of a violin’s strings, pulling him toward her.

He was pretty sure Severide was laughing at him from next to him, but suddenly, Kanan wasn’t sure he cared. “You okay?” his friend asked.

Words fail me. “Fine,” Kanan said, tearing his gaze away from Hera. Come on, Jarrus, get it together. Just because she’s beautiful doesn’t mean she doesn’t hate you. And maybe she’s a terrible person now, who isn’t smart and witty and passionate about what’s right.

And maybe I’m about to sprout wings and fly out of here. “If I start to say anything too stupid,” he told Severide, “hit me.”

Grinning, Severide said, “You got it, buddy.”

Taking a deep breath, Kanan headed toward the group across the room. Here goes nothing.

~~~

So far, the event actually wasn’t that bad. It was good to see some of her friends again—Matt and Gabby were adorable together, and Lucy was busy regaling them with horror stories from her job. Hera was finally starting to relax and enjoy herself.

And then. A voice that was familiar and yet…not. Older and deeper, without any of the cracks of youth.

“Hey.”

Hera spun around, and her heart jumped into her throat. She’d recognize that smile anywhere, no matter how much the man wearing it had changed.

And he had changed a lot. Kanan had used to be her height, maybe a little taller. Now he was at least as tall as Matt, dark hair swept back in a ponytail. He had a goatee, and was wearing a dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up. And he looked…good. To Hera’s absolute mortification, she felt herself blush, and prayed it wasn’t obvious.

“Hey, Kanan,” Matt said, giving him a wave. “Hera, Lucy, did you know Kanan’s working with us now? Transferred over to our station…when was it?”

“About two months ago,” Kanan said. He looked as infuriatingly at ease as he always had, and Hera felt a reassuring spark of annoyance. That’s more like it. “Pretty sure Severide had something to do with it, though.”

“I will neither confirm nor deny that.” Hera’s gaze flashed to his companion—Kelly Severide, who’d been a year older than them and close friends with Kanan. His trademark grin, which exuded both cockiness and a friendly demeanor, was in place, and he was dressed more casually than anyone else in the building.

“Why am I not surprised that you’re here?” she said. “Considering this isn’t your actual graduating class.”

Severide shrugged. “You guys are more interesting than anyone else in my class. No offense, Casey.”

Matt laughed. “None taken. I’d rather hang out with you guys anyway.” Hera saw the way Gabby settled a little closer to him at his words, and held back a grin. Almost automatically, she exchanged a look with Kanan—who she’d never been friends with, but everyone in their class had bemoaned Gabby and Matt’s cluelessness over the years.

Their eyes met for a moment, and Hera forced herself not to look away. Don’t back down now, Syndulla. There was no way to get out of it without actually talking to him, unfortunately. “I never knew you were planning to be a firefighter,” she told him. Harmless enough.

“Never came up, I guess,” Kanan said with a shrug. “I never would have made it without you there pushing me, though.”

Well. That’s…unexpected. Why was he acting so…humble, almost? Not as prickly and overly confident as he had been as a kid, always interrupting in the middle of classes or getting on her nerves.

Maybe because he’s not a teenage boy with a chip on his shoulder, a more reasonable side of her brain whispered. He’s grown up. Into a man—one who’s not exactly terrible looking, either.

Oh, none of that, she scolded herself. Maybe this wasn’t her reasonable side after all.

Before she could even think of something else to say, the lights went out, and the entire room was plunged into darkness.

~~~

As darkness dropped over them, startled voices rang out and Kanan bit back a groan. This is so on brand for our life. He heard Severide curse, and a few seconds later a phone light flashed to life, nearly blinding Kanan.

It illuminated Hera’s face, a deep frown twisting her face. “Lucy, tell me you were allowed to plug in all those lights.”

“I…didn’t ask.” Lucy admitted. “I didn’t think it would be a big deal.”

“Probably just a blown fuse, in that case,” Matt guessed. “Kanan, go check that out. We’ll try and keep things from blowing up down here.”

“On it, Lieutenant,” Kanan told him.

“I’ll go with you.”

Hera’s voice was the exact last one he’d expected to hear, and Kanan threw her a startled look. “Um…”

“I went to school for mechanical engineering,” she told him with a touch of irritation that was so familiar Kanan almost laughed. Only almost, because that would get him punched in the face. “Whatever happened, it might be helpful to have someone who knows what they’re doing.”

“Fair enough,” Kanan said, deciding it really wasn’t worth a fight. “Okay, we’ll be right back. Uh—Lucy, where’s the breaker box?”

“The place is only one floor, so…somewhere on the south side of the building?” Lucy offered. “I didn’t see it when I took the tour, so it’s somewhere out of the way. It’s not that big, so it shouldn’t be too hard to find.”

“Got it,” Kanan said. Pulling out his own phone and switching on the flashlight, he remembered a doorway on the far side of the room he’d spotted earlier and started toward it.

And then stopped, realizing Hera wasn’t following him. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw her talking to Gabby, frowning fiercely. Finally, she gave a quick nod, and turned to head after Kanan.

Interesting. Kanan briefly contemplated asking what that was about, but decided to not push his luck. Instead, he waited for her to catch up with him. “Ready?” he asked.

“Ready,” Hera said, and they headed through the crowd to the far side of the room.

Things were already a mess—people panicking, pushing into others. Kanan had to stop multiple times to calm down a few people. Hera helped with that, and Kanan was surprised at how quickly people listened to her. Her calm, authoritative tone pulled many a former classmate out of a panicked state by the time they’d made it to the far side of the room.

“I’m officially impressed,” Kanan told her as he tried the door. It swung open, and he breathed a quiet sigh of relief. “Where’d you learn crowd control like that?”

“The military,” Hera told him, stepping through the door he held open for her, and Kanan’s eyebrows shot up.

“I…didn’t know you were interested in that,” he said, following her through the door and into an empty, dark hallway. “Back in high school, anyway.”

Hera shrugged, holding up her phone to illuminate the hall. “It helped pay my way through college after…well, I needed the free tuition. And I always wanted to do something to help people.”

“That, I remember,” Kanan said, a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth as memories whispered through his mind. “With the amount of actual physical fights you got into, I’m shocked you were the valedictorian.”

“Not for lack of trying on your part,” Hera quipped as they kept moving. “You were certainly motivated to get there before me.”

“Nah, not valedictorian,” Kanan said. “I definitely didn’t have what it took to make a speech in front of everyone. You were way better for that. I just wanted to beat you at everything else.”

Hera laughed, and Kanan felt like his heart could take flight. He’d never made her laugh before, and he suddenly thought he’d do anything to hear the sound again. “Oh, is that all?”

“That’s all,” Kanan agreed, pausing to squint at a door. Satisfied it wasn’t what he was looking for, he kept going, adding, “I rarely succeeded, though.”

He heard Hera make a soft, thoughtful noise. “You’re so much less—you’re different than I remembered.” 

Kanan couldn’t quite hold back a snort of amusement as they turned a corner. “You mean less obnoxious, don’t you?”

“I didn’t say that,” Hera said. “But now that you mention it…”

“Oh, thanks,” Kanan said, unable to hold back a grin. “But you’re not wrong, I was kind of a pain when I was a kid. Especially then. I was ticked off about being shoved into the public school system and being looked down on just because the way I had learned was different than everyone else. You…kind of happened to be an easy target because you were just as ready to pick a fight as I was. And after a while it got kind of fun.”

He heard Hera let out a scoff. “Oh, very flattering.”

“Hey, you just called me obnoxious,” Kanan pointed out. “Fair is fair.” He paused at a new junction, pointing his phone light toward a nearby door. “Huh. Utilities—that could be it.”

“Let’s check it out,” Hera agreed.

The door turned out to be locked. But Hera dug through her purse and produced a mini tool kit. With the contents, they managed to pick the lock.

“I still can’t believe you carry a tool kit with you everywhere,” Kanan said, pushing the door open. The room inside was dark, but he lifted his phone, illuminating the wall, and—bingo. Breaker box.

“Let’s just say I’ve learned it’s better to be safe than sorry,” Hera told him wryly. “And as a firefighter, you should know it’s smart to be prepared.”

“Oh, I do,” Kanan assured her, pulling open the panel and shining his light on it. “I just don’t expect everyone else to be. I should have known better when it comes to you, though.”

“You should have,” Hera agreed. “Do you actually know what you’re doing over there?”

“More or less, yeah.”

“That’s reassuring,” Hera quipped. “Move over, I’ll take a look.”

“All yours.” Kanan shifted to the side, keeping the light on the interior of the panel as Hera slid into the gap, inches away from him as she studied the controls. Inches that Kanan found himself suddenly all too aware of.

~~~

There was absolutely nothing to think about being inches away from Kanan Jarrus. It was simply a fact. There was nothing particularly unusual about it, about being able to sense him breathing, his arm brushing against hers every so often.

Focus, Syndulla, Hera told herself, studying the panel. The sooner the lights came back on, the better. That was all that was throwing her off balance, the darkness. Not Kanan, or the fact that he actually turned out to be kind and friendly and made stupid jokes at his own expense.

And now he was talking again, and Hera pulled her attention back to him.

“So, you’re in the military,” he said. “And a mechanical engineer? Are you secretly a superhero in your spare time? Dance fighter, maybe?”

Hera couldn’t hold back a laugh. “No—and I’m not on active duty,” she said. “I’m currently working at a local mechanic shop for the time being, but…I’ve got my eye on something else. We’ll see how it works out.”

“Busy as ever,” Kanan said, and she could all but hear his grin. “Maybe it’s a public school overachiever thing.”

Scoffing, Hera said, “I like to think it’s uniquely me. Why did you ever join public school if you have such disdain for it?”

“I don’t have disdain for it,” Kanan corrected her. “I just think that there are some big issues with—you know what, I’m not going into this rant right now. Anyways, it wasn’t really my choice to go to public school.”

“I think I’ve got it,” Hera said, reaching up and flipping a few switches. “Why did you have to go, then?”

He went quiet, and Hera wondered what she’d said, if he’d even heard her. Then the lights finally burst to life, and she could see his face. Serious and…sad, holding an old grief that Hera instantly recognized.

“My mom died,” he said. “And my stepdad had a full time job, and my grandpa was working as a sergeant in the LCPD back then, so…there was no one else to teach me. So into public school I went.”

Hera stared at him, shock slicing at the inside of her chest. “What—how did I never know about this?”

Shrugging, Kanan switched off his phone flashlight, pocketing it. “We weren’t exactly close back then—and I didn’t really know what to expect in public school. That first year, I…didn’t really tell anyone. Believe it or not, Severide was the first person I told.”

“What did he say?” Hera asked, finding herself dazed in the wake of his words. All this time… Looking back, she remembered him bringing his stepfather or grandfather to school events, but never his mother. And the day she’d found out that her mother was dying…he was there. This is why.

Kanan’s smile was bright, but still sad. “Offered to buy me a beer. We were seventeen at the time, as I recall.”

Hera snorted. “Sounds about right.” She paused, rallying the words she wanted to say. “I’m so sorry. That I didn’t know, and that—that I was so awful to you back then.”

Kanan laughed, and it was a real laugh. “I mean…a little, yeah. But I was awful, too. Such is the way of being a teenager sometimes. And having an archnemesis really helped take my mind off everything. So seriously, don’t worry about it. I’ll just be happy if we can be friends now.”

Friends with Kanan Jarrus. Somehow, it…didn’t sound terrible. Hera of an hour ago would scarcely have believed it, and yet? “Friends it is,” Hera agreed.

“Good,” Kanan said.

They closed up the breaker box and headed out of the room and back into the hallway. Even from a distance, Hera could hear relieved voices and the sound of music starting up. “Looks like everything’s up and running again,” she observed. “We should probably get back to the others.”

“Yeah,” Kanan said, and Hera knew the tone in his voice. She’d heard it a hundred times in high school, when he’d been about to pull some insane stunt, when he was about to figure out some way around the rules in the classroom. It was a tone that tended to herald mischief and ignoring the rules.

Spinning around, she squinted at him suspiciously. “What?”

“Nothing,” Kanan said, holding up his hands in surrender. “Just—honestly I don’t really want to go back to the party. Severide’s been driving me crazy, and I’m just…” he trailed off, and Hera saw the smallest flicker of the sadness from earlier cross his face in a heartbeat. “Not in the mood for it all,” he finished.

“Fair enough,” Hera said. “Do you have any better plans?”

Kanan’s startled gaze flicked up and met hers. “Are you saying you’re in?”

“Are you saying you have a plan?” Hera countered.

The corner of his mouth tipped upward. “I’m saying I have a mechanical engineer with a tool kit, and…” he trailed off, pointing at a nearby door.

Hera glanced at it, reading the sign on it. Roof access: employees only. “You’re crazy.”

“Maybe a little,” Kanan said, his grin widening. “Well?”

Kriff. How was it that over the course of an hour or so, the idea of hanging out on a roof with Kanan Jarrus had somehow become appealing? But…she wanted to spend more time with him. Ask him more questions, see him smile more.

She’d definitely lost her mind. “Let’s do it.”

~~~

The roof of the building wasn’t too far off of the ground, which did cut down on the appeal a little. But when Kanan finally got the door open, a fresh breeze cut across his face and it was worth it.

(somehow, having to admit what had happened to his mother had locked iron bands around his chest, and Kanan couldn’t bring himself to go back to laughing and joking with the others. He needed to breathe, to be away from everyone else.

Well. Almost everyone else.)

Crossing her arms, Hera shivered a little as she stepped out onto the rooftop behind him. It was already getting dark, the last of the sunlight bleeding away behind the horizon. “Remind me why I went along with this plan?”

“Well, you never went along with any of my plans in high school,” Kanan pointed out. “Consider this an opportunity to make up for all that.”

“I still think most of those plans were nuts,” Hera said, pulling her arms tighter to herself as another breeze whisked past them.

Snapping his fingers, Kanan said, “I knew I should have worn that suit coat after all. Could have done the chivalrous thing and given you my jacket.”

“And I knew I should have worn the jacket I actually brought with me,” Hera quipped. “And yet it’s sitting safely inside where I don’t need it.”

“We all have regrets,” Kanan said, and Hera rolled her eyes at him. “Come on—I bet we can get out of the wind over there.”

The roof was crisscrossed with big silver vent shafts, and they headed to the far side of one, settling on the roof behind it to shelter themselves from the wind. Letting his head drop back against one, Kanan squinted up at the sky. “Shouldn’t be too long before the stars come out.”

Hera dropped down next to him. “Why in the name of the Force did I think it was a good idea to wear this dress?”

Kanan couldn’t quite resist a glance toward her— skirts tucked around her legs, one of her lekku resting on her bare shoulder. How could she look so perfectly at ease, yet stunning at the same time? “You look amazing.” The compliment slipped out before he could think better of it, and he didn’t really want to.

She flicked a glance at him, and Kanan’s heart skipped a beat. Then she rolled her eyes. “It’s too cold for me to deal with you making fun of me.”

She wasn’t wrong about the cold—it was early autumn, but there was already a nip in the air that promised frost on the way. Even in long sleeves, Kanan was cold. But it was worth it, in his mind.

“Just think,” he mused. “Ten years ago around this time of year, we were probably already a month or so into school. Determined to destroy each other at all cost. Those were the days.”

Letting out a snort of amusement, Hera shifted a little closer to him. When Kanan glanced at her, she scowled at him. “You’re warm, and it’s freezing out. Don’t judge me.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Kanan said, holding back a laugh. “You’re yelling at me—now it really feels like high school.”

Hera scoffed. “Oh, we never would have hung out like this back then. Not without me trying to toss you over the edge of the building.”

It’s true, Kanan thought. They never would have sat like they did now, arms brushing, Hera’s fingers nearly touching his. Suddenly, he didn’t miss high school at all.

“So,” Hera said. “I don’t think I ever heard why exactly you just disappeared from our college.”

“And you must have missed me so much,” Kanan teased, and Hera rolled her eyes. Turning serious, Kanan explained, “I got into a really good fire academy I’d applied to across the country. It was leave for the training sessions then or wait for the next class, so I went. Finished my degree online, got certified as an EMT when I was done with that.”

“You’re an EMT, too?” Hera said, raising an eyebrow.

“Not professionally, I’m just certified.”

Shaking her head, Hera said, “Between the two of us, we might have enough random skills to fix the world.”

“Nice,” Kanan said. “Now we just need a friend willing to take over and put us in charge.”

Hera laughed. “Brilliant plan. Oh—look, the first star!”

For a moment, they fell silent, watching the stars slowly flicker to life in the darkening sky. Kanan felt Hera shiver next to him, and, after a moment of indecision, lifted his arm and slipped it around her shoulders.

He felt her stiffen a little, and paused. “Is this okay? I just thought—”

“It’s fine,” Hera assured him, settling a little closer to him. Kanan felt his heart skip a beat, then start pounding harder than ever as her head settled right next to his shoulder. “I grew up where 60 degrees was cold, and I’ve never really been able to shake that,” she told him, letting out a sigh. “Not exactly convenient.”

“I can imagine,” Kanan said, unable to tear his eyes away from her. Even in the dim light, he could see the patterns on her lekku, could smell her soap. “Hey,” he said. “Remember like an hour ago when you hated me?”

He felt the warm chuckle Hera let out before he heard it. “Yeah, well, you’re warm and this rooftop isn’t. So don’t read too much into it.”

“I wouldn't dream of it. You want to go back inside?”

“Not yet.”

The sky grew darker, and the stars multiplied. Staring up at them, Kanan said, “Remind me, you had an astronomy phase, right?”

“You could say that,” Hera agreed. “Why?”

“Just wondering if you remembered any of the constellations. My mom taught me a lot of them,” he told her, wondering why even as he spoke. As a rule, Kanan talked about Depa to exactly three people—Mace, Gray, and his therapist. But here he was, reliving memories with a woman who’d hated him for years. A woman who he found it all too easy to talk to. “We borrowed a telescope from a family friend once, and looked at all of them, at the moon. I dropped it when we were bringing it inside, and broke the lens. But Mom—” Kanan stopped, feeling his throat tighten. “She said it was fine. Told the friend she broke it, so I wouldn’t feel bad. She always had my back, even if she made me help pay for it.”

Letting out a shaky laugh, he pressed his eyes closed against the blurring stars. “Sorry. I don’t know why—you’re easy to talk to, I guess.”

Hera didn’t say anything for a moment. “I get it,” she said quietly. “It sneaks up on you. My mom’s been gone since college, but I—I still miss her. I still want to tell her everything. I’m not really as close to the rest of my family—my brother’s been in Europe for a long time now, and my father is…difficult to get along with. I miss having someone I can tell anything to without worrying I’ll be belittled or made fun of.”

“Anyone who belittles you is out of their mind,” Kanan said heartfeltly. “You can and always have done everything you set your mind to. Except beat me in that math final.”

“Don’t make me rethink being friends with you,” Hera warned him.

“Oh, we’re friends now?”

“Not if you keep pushing it.”

“Understood.”

They fell silent again, watching the stars for a while. “Thanks for listening,” Kanan finally said. “I don’t…really talk about my mom with people that often. Most of my coworkers and friends didn’t know her, and I’m not sure if that makes it better or worse. I don’t think I’ve even told my grandfather that story.”

“Your secret’s safe with me,” Hera told him, and Kanan smiled.

“Thanks, Hera.”

“Anytime,” she said, and there was something in her voice that Kanan didn’t quite understand. 

Glancing at her, he squinted, trying to read the emotion on her face in the darkness. “You okay?”

“Fine,” Hera said. “Just—oh, kriff, I cannot believe I’m telling you this.”

“Telling me what?” Kanan asked slowly.

Her grimace was obvious even in the shadows as she squared her shoulders. “I’m thinking about applying for a job at NASA.”

Kanan’s eyebrows shot upward. “NASA?”

“Yeah,” Hera said. “I originally applied to be an aerospace engineer, but I…okay this is stupid. But when I was a kid, I wanted to be an astronaut and it still sounds like it would be an incredible career, and if you’re going to laugh at me just get it over with—”

“I’m not laughing,” Kanan told her immediately. “You’re talking to the guy who grew up to become a firefighter, remember? Being an astronaut sounds incredible, and you’d be amazing at it.”

Hera sent him a skeptical sideways glance. “You just saw me again for the first time in eight years, and you already know that?”

“You’ve always been good at whatever you set your mind to,” Kanan told her, hoping his sincerity came forth in his words. “Even back in high school. Except, of course—”

“Do not bring up the math test.”

“Shutting up now.”

Hera laughed, and was silent for a moment. “I haven’t told anyone about this,” she told him. “Not even my roommate, Omega. I don’t know why I told you.”

“I’m glad you did,” Kanan told her, and caught the flash of white that was her smile.

They stayed like that for a while longer, watching the stars and just…talking. Catching up on pieces of the past eight years, and slowly getting to know each other as friends. Not enemies, not teenagers bent on destroying the other.

Just friends. Mostly. Because when they got up to go inside, driven in by freezing cold wind and a dozen increasingly dramatic texts from Severide, Kanan offered Hera his hand, helping her to her feet. And when she took it, she didn’t let it go until they finally reached the door and stepped inside.

~~~

Usually, Hera hated it when she was wrong. Generally it was for work stuff, and she had to redo something she’d been working on for days now.

But right now, heading into the parking lot with her hands tucked into the pockets of her jacket, she was more than happy to be wrong.

It turned out Kanan wasn’t an insufferable jerk. Not any more, at least. He was…a friend. Who’d encouraged her, teased her, and maybe made her blush a little bit when he told her she looked nice.

If younger me could see me now, Hera thought wryly. She was okay with that, though. After all, what was growing up but readjusting your perspective time after time? Now Kanan was in her life again, even as a friend, and—

Wait.

He was in her life. But how exactly were things supposed to stay that way? She knew he worked at the same firehouse as Matt, Gabby, and Severide, but not how to contact him. She certainly didn’t have his phone number, and it was shocking to admit that she wanted it. And a little embarrassing.

But sometimes you had to be a little embarrassed for a good cause.

Turning, Hera stared across the parking lot. The gathering had broken up not long after they came in, and she’d lost Kanan in the crowd. If she remembered right, he’d come with Severide. You’d think I could spot one ridiculously tall firefighter in a crowd…

But there was no sign of him, and Hera pushed back an unreasonable pang. She could always reach out to Gabby or one of the others if necessary. It certainly wouldn’t be eight years again, not if she could help it.

Pretending she wasn’t still looking for any sign of him, she turned and headed toward her car.

She’d made it to her car, and was digging for her car keys when she heard a shout behind her. Instinctively, Hera spun toward it, her hand slipping into her purse—and then someone crashed into her.

She stumbled, nearly toppling backward, but a strong arm around her waist caught her, pulling her upright and face to face with Kanan. “Sorry,” he said, breathing hard. “Thought I was gonna miss you.”

“So the solution was to barrel into me at top speed?” Hera asked, lifting an eyebrow and pretending like a smile wasn’t struggling its way to the surface.

Kanan must have been able to tell, though, because he grinned back. “It worked, didn’t it?” He seemed to realize he was still holding her, and let go, stepping back a little. “Look, last time we went our separate ways, we didn’t talk for eight years. I don’t know about you, but—”

“I don’t want that, either,” Hera told him, and a brilliant smile spread across Kanan’s face.

“Good. Then, uh, can I ask for your number?”

“After all that, I think it would be heartless to say no,” Hera said dryly, digging inside her purse. Producing her wallet, she pulled out one of the business cards from the mechanic shop she worked at, and a pen, and scribbled down her number. Presenting it to him, she said, “Try and use it wisely.”

“I wouldn’t dream of doing otherwise,” Kanan said gravely, accepting the card. The smile he wore and the way he studied the card undercut the tone somewhat, and Hera couldn’t hold back a chuckle.

“It was good to see you again,” she told him, and meant it.

“It was good to see you, too,” Kanan said, and smiled at her in a way that made her heart flutter. You really are crazy, Syndulla. First astronaut school, now this.

But who knows? She thought as he strolled away, a spring in his step. Stranger things have happened.

[littleplushyprincess]

I'm 21. She/her. Bisexual 🏳️‍🌈. Lover girl. Virgin </3. Mostly a sub. l like it gross :) I don't tag individual posts but general warning on my blog for fauxcest, (mostly soft) cnc, age play-ish. I also reblog/post personal + random sfw stuff. New to this side of tumblr, still figuring things out. ❣️ (Much) more about my likes and dislikes below!

Put your age on your profile ! Minors DO NOT interact. Misogynists DO NOT interact and kys instead.

Back-up is @happytrail-enthusiast ❗️

Very happy to receive pervy asks (or just friendly ones lol), especially from older guys 🩷 I’m happy to make mutuals, both as friends or something else :)

I don’t reply to dms if you don’t even follow me, you aren’t respectful or if your blog is empty. More dm rules below ⬇️

(a lot) more about me:

🔞🔞🔞

name: you can call me kiddo, kid, bunny, puppy, sweetheart, princess, angel etc — you get the idea 🤭 unless you just wanna be friends then i can give you an actual name in dms :)

instructions: i require lots of attention with a daily dose of nasty asks 🦋 handle with care!

what i’m doing when i’m not touching my pussy to your posts:

i’m an English literature and linguistics master’s student

i’m a yapper first and foremost (if i don’t yap to you i probably don’t feel comfortable (yet) or feel like you’re not interested)

i’m from the UK but live in Germany (CET)

a few random interests of mine are: marvel (deadpool, wolvie and spiderman are my favs), challengers, linkin park, silly pop punk from the 2000s, ACNH & sims 4 (wicked whims and me 🤝), i collect funko pops and plushies 🧸 i love the colour pink 🩷

i love Game of Thrones & House of the Dragon (and not just cause of the !ncest)

also i’m probably autistic lmfao

if you wanna know anything else about me just ask :) i love talking lol

what to imagine when you’re jerking off to me/ what i look like:

i’m 5’2/159cm

i’m slim but not skinny, with D-cup boobs (DD when I’m on my period🤭), and my legs are my fav body part on myself <3

i have (dyed) red, curly hair and cute nose piercings and a few tattoos and i def want more!!

i’m quite girly but half of the time i live in my comfy pyjamas that usually consist of some oversized graphic tee and cute panties and socks 💖

my type:

i don’t have a specific type in men but i do like em tall (and i’m short so that’s easy)

i prefer older guys but someone my age is definitely good too and who knows younger might work :) in fantasy i’d go up to ~55 years but in reality i can’t imagine texting anyone over 40 tbh, but you can try

i go insane over big (natural) muscles but don’t mind skinny or slightly chubby guys at all :)

i loove body hair on guys but i like the hair on the head mostly short

i like confident (not cocky!!) guys but i’m also into shy, awkward nerds

intelligence in men is so sexy to me (because frankly there aren’t that many of you </3) but i can’t lie I’d let a himbo fuck me silly...

relationship status / a slut in theory but not (yet) in practice: i’m single and i’ve never been in a relationship or dated (or had sex 💔)

dm rules 💌:

dms are always open to mutuals

dms are open to other people too but if you’re not interesting I won’t respond

practise proper communication and consent

i hate having to text first 🥺 and i get shy sometimes but that’s easily resolved if you show actual interest <3

i know we’re all here for the same reason but don’t reduce me to something purely sexual

i’m not looking for a relationship on here but i do prefer to get comfortable with you and hope we’ll have an actual connection :)

i don’t like when people take themselves too seriously so even if we have a nsfw convo we can still talk normally lol <3

all i ask is that you have more than one braincell and can actually hold a conversation 🙏🏼

if you ask nicely before sending them then i’ll probably drool over your 🍆 pics (or less explicit pics too)🤍 (but pls don’t be delusional, no need to ruin the fantasy if you’re ugly because i will not continue the convo)

obviously i have the right to not reply to you or block you if i feel uncomfortable

don’t mention other women you’re texting on here? (that should go without saying but apparently not)(i’m not expecting to be the only woman you’re talking to on here and that’s fine but keep it to yourself)

i like girls too but that’s not what i’m on tumblr for but i’d love to make girl mutuals/friends 🥰

i’m into:

fauxcest fauxcest fauxest!!! pls someone be my dad or big brother i’m begging, praise (makes my heart and pussy go 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫), dd/lg, being a liittle bit of a brat, being lightly slapped, piss (slightly), being spanked (ass & pussy), creampies and everything to do with cum and sweat and spit, (fake) breeding, primal play, mmf threesomes or a bf watching me and another man have sex and liking it, this sounds obvious but i love dicks and balls so so so much i will die over them i love nothing more than watching men jerk off in all types of ways 🩵 i also like mlm/mxm stuff and like to imagine being one of the guys (don’t ask me what that says about my gender identity because i don’t know)

bsdm test:

quite vanilla i think🍦 but i’m addicted to ¡ncest fantasies 😋🤤

❌ i don’t like:

mom x daughter fauxcest, toilet stuff, nappies/diapers, feet, the word ‘cunnie/y’?, choking, genuine violence, rough degradation without any praise, master/slave dynamic (compared to general dom/sub stuff which i obsess over), traditional gender roles beyond sex, bondage, actual pregnancy, c*rpse stuff, anything beyond a few drops of blood although period blood is fine, food/weight stuff

(i don’t mind if you like any of these things pls still feel free to interact but these kinks are not for me and understand that i might not follow back if you post about them <3)

💕 if you read this entire post you’re legally required to send me any type of ask or dm, ask me something about myself, tell me something about you etc etc 🤭

[ivys-thick-juicy-thighs]

vessels-two-front-teeth -> ivys-thick-juicy-thighs

+18 only! Minors do not interact.

Introduction post!

Must reads before proceeding:

Rules for sending DMs and asks

How to piss me off in one easy step (hint: don’t do this)

Masterlist

All under age, ageless, and blank blogs will be blocked on sight.

I’m Sid. I am 28 years old. I’m non-binary, trans masc, and pansexual. Definitely polyamorous, but I’m still figuring shit out. They/he pronouns. Canadian. I am autistic and have ADHD and CPTSD. I am currently extremely burnt out.

Tags and additional information under the cut ⬇️

My art tags: [#vtft art tour] is where you’ll find all of my non fandom related art posts. [#vtft fan art] is where you’ll find all of my fan art. [#my photography] is where you’ll find all the pictures I have taken.

My lore theory tag: [#vtft lore theory]

Announcements, random talking, etc. tags: [#Sid talks to themselves, babbles, Sid becomes an encyclopedia]

Feral behaviour tags: [#I’m such a simp, the feral saga continues, hey yo what them hands do???, what a lovely necklace, what them hips do??? Murder apparently, I’m normal, I’m so normal, I’m fine, everything’s fine, them thick juicy thighs, hands hands h a n d s.] It’s exactly what it sounds like. It’s me losing my goddamned mind over painfully attractive people. Proceed with caution, it gets wild in there.

Bonus feral tag: [#you’re such a simp, the simpening] for other people simping over me. Boggles my fuckin mind, but thank you. Y’all are too kind.

Straight up horny and explicit tag: [#Sid’s horny time] seriously proceed with caution. I’m not joking when I say I get explicit in there. This is the one to block if this isn’t something you enjoy seeing. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

Sleep token category tags: [#bassy boi, the chaos ballerina, fancy vampire man, evil clown man, mad scientist] all tags referring to III. Bassy boi as well as the default [#sleep token iii] are for generic III pics. The chaos ballerina is for any pics where he’s being particularly…well chaotic. Fancy vampire man is for all pics where he’s dressed as a fancy vampire man. Evil clown man is pics where he looks like he’s about to murder the shit outta someone. Mad scientist is for all the pics where he looks like he held onto an electric fence for about 5 seconds too long.

[#sir numerals/pinstripe the fourth, Ivy, ivyyyyyyy, Mr. Squish, baby boy, I will never be sane about him] all tags referring to IV. Sir numerals the fourth has become the default as well as [#sleep token iv] for all pics of him. Ivy I used for a lil while but I don’t really use it anymore. Same goes for ivy with increasing numbers of Ys. Mr. Squish is for all posts where I just wanna snuggle him for all time. He’s so squish-able. Baby boy just started happening. I guess for posts where I’m particularly proud of him or concerned for his well being. “I will never be sane about him” is more of a feral tag, but I need to be honest with myself; I’m only ever going to use it for IV. Sir pinstripe the fourth has been adopted for all pics of his new suit.

[#lemon boi, pocket king, mini evil clown man] all tags referring to II. Lemon boi is the default, as well as [#sleep token ii] for generic pics. Ones where you can see how smol he is get pocket king. Mini evil clown man is when he’s doing to thing that iii does, where he looks like he’s about to murder the fuck outta someone. But make it smaller.

[#sleep token vessel] is default. [#the ski-daddler on the roof] is for videos where he does something then just fucking disappears somewhere on stage. [#(emotion) poetry man] for posts that show vessels different emotions. Example: sad poetry man, angry poetry man, happy poetry man, etc. [#the porcelain mask] think “a mask tells us more than a face.” Saved for magazine shoots. [#happy smily boy, vessels two front teeth, teeth appreciation] are all for posts where he’s either smiling or showing teeth in general. Thank you 🪽⚫️ for your help with these, I appreciate you.

[#the goddesses, sleep token espera] tags referring to…you guessed it, the espera. They remind me of the triple goddesses, so yeah.

[#the boifrienns, smooches, cutie patootie(s)] posts where the boys are being affectionate towards each other…in various ways. Use your imagination.

Now for some additional information about this blog and my goals with it.

Yes this is a Sleep Token themed blog, but I listen to a very wide range of music, like almost all genres. The only songs I don’t like are ones that are objectively bad.

I am currently working on my debut novel, and I just started my very first fanfiction, In The Low Light. I like space and science, spirituality and history of different religions, as well as history in general, and psychology. Just a general rule of thumb, I’m a fucking nerd. There’s a lot going on up here in this brain mush of mine.

As for stuff about Sleep Token, their identities will not be discussed here. If you send me anything with their information, I will delete it and block you. I do know their information, unfortunately, because I was jump scared in the comments of a TikTok and now it’s burned into my brain. I will not post about it. Ever.

I found Sleep Token through The Summoning in January 2023 when it went viral. Almost instantly, they became my favourite band of all time.

As for my plans for this page, I will continue to complete the mask portraits for Sleep Token, in the order shown below. Other than that, my goal is to keep this page as free from political subject matter as possible. I want this page to be an escape for everyone, myself included. I will try my best to keep it light hearted and fun.

I will go in order as follows:

1. IV ✅ watch here: part 1 • part 2 • part 3 • Details •

2. III

3. II

4. Vessel

5. The Espera

Each painting will include their mask in the centre, surrounded by flowers/plants that I have selected based on their symbology. With each painting, I will be counting the total number of hours spent on each one and will go in instalments until each is completed.

I may in the future do portraits of other artists, though at the moment the only ones I have solid plans for are Sleep Token. There are other art ideas that are related to ST, but are essentially (free) commissions for friends. If there is enough demand/interest, I may in the future sell digital prints of my art, however this is dependent on your interest levels.

I do not consent to the sharing, reposting or plagiarism of any of my original works on any outside platforms or social media. If you see my works tell me so I can look into it.

All in all, I am excited to be working on this project and to make friends with all of you lovely people.

As long as we keep the focus on the love of the music, and respecting the boys and each other, I know that this will only become a beautiful thing.

Thank you for joining me on this journey, I love you all.

WORSHIP ❤️🖤🤍

[terraliensvent]

https://www.tumblr.com/terraliensvent/762628974139637760/httpsdocsgooglecomdocumentd1hedsgxllpfwh2z

You know, as much as I very much dislike Gin/Shark and think that they seriously need to get the hell off of the internet, this whole document really just feels like you’re exposing a heavy conversation that was told to you in confidence. It also has absolutely nothing to do with Terraliens other than the screenshots at the start of the document (which have no relation to the main points being made in the body of the doc).

Yes, it’s a lot to unload onto a 16-year-old, but OP reached out to Gin/Shark first to ask them if they were okay. And then continued the conversation / showed no signs of asking Gin/Shark to stop or let them know they were uncomfortable with the topics at hand. Which would give Gin/Shark the impression that it was fine to vent to you. If you truly didn’t want them dumping all of those things onto you, you should’ve told them that! Or nicely let them know that they should be telling this to a professional and not you: a 16-year-old stranger on the internet.

Also, Gin/Shark is only 19 iirc. As someone who’s in their late 20s, you don’t just automatically mature and become a grown ass adult once you turn 18. Y’all are pretty close in age, so trying to pull the “uuuuuh uh I’m a minor they shouldn’t be talking to me about this” card doesn’t quite work here. You just look like an asshole “friend” for betraying their trust and publicly airing out all the dirty laundry of their relationship with Coy that they vented to you privately. I sincerely hope Gin/Shark doesn’t find out that you posted this online because this is the last thing they need if they really are going to get better mentally.

If you’re gonna make a Google doc exposing them for something, this isn’t it. This just looks shitty on both OP and the mod of this blog’s part for not thinking that through.

post related

in MY opinion, 16 and 19 is a weird gap to be dropping all your incredibly heavy baggage on, at worst this is like a high school sophomore talking to someone who graduated 2 years ago.

also i find it weird you say "OP reached out first," especially since the ORIGINAL screenshots in the doc (and assumedly the first of these "vent" convos) is them reaching out and saying "are you ok? do you wanna talk about it?" and civ immediately jumping to "i stopped taking my meds and im coping with alcohol." thats an insane leap to make. i also find it weird that veal had to manage the emotions of civ, checking their college schedule and making sure they do their morning routine and whatnot, and the spam in dms when they were in class and away for an hour. these are weird behaviors between two people of any age.

im also gonna add this reply i grabbed from the snugzi blog (who also posted the doc):

its weird youre putting responsibility on the younger person to manage the emotions of the older person while also saying "if they didnt want to talk they should have said so," instead of saying it was incredibly irresponsible of civ to traumadump onto them, and its THEIR responsibility as the older person to check themself.

and as an additional note, from this screen you can infer that civ would primarily talk to veal to vent. you can see a prior conversation form a week before where veal is reassuring them again. im not saying this is rock solid proof, but from this you can ASSUME that civ might have just been using veal as a vent dump. again, assume, so take it with a grain of salt.

my conclusion is that its not the responsibility of the younger person who is being traumadumped on to say "you should see a professional about this instead of a 16 year old on the internet!!" that should be the responsibility of the 19 year old who is dropping incredibly sensitive info on them and spamming them every 10 minutes when they dont respond for an hour. and thats not even mentioning the power dynamic possibility.

when a friendship causes one of the members to reach out to a completely anonymous blog saying "I don't know how to get out of this relationship now just realizing what the extent of their actions is, I don't know what to do and it's scaring the fuck out of me," maybe that's not really a good friendship

[midnightfire830]

Blog Boundaries

I am ok with:

- People drawing my AUs and characters as long as you either @ me or mention that it belongs to me. (Hell, I’ll even reblog and help support ur drawings)

- Asks about my AUs and characters in general are ok. From questions about how an AU works/aspects, questions directed to my characters, or even if you wanna give something to the characters

- I don’t mind if you draw your OCs in my AUs or with characters. Just don’t expect me to make it canon or draw it into canon.

- If there was an ask that didn’t fully explain something or you wanted to clear something up then by all means go to the comments I don’t mind. Or put in another ask. That’s another way to do it. DM’s are fine too.

- I don’t mind people putting in drawing requests or ideas in asks. Tho there’s a chance I won’t do it if I’m not too motivated by the request.

Things I am NOT ok with:

- Asking me or pressuring me to draw your AUs, characters, or OCs. Even for asks. Any kinds of other OCs or AUs I draw would only be for my close friends.

- Spamming me with the same asks. If you sent in an ask and I didn’t response don’t send in the same ask again. (That includes reiterating the same ask) I can see all interactions with my blog and posts. I see your asks, replies, comments, reblogs, and likes. If I do not respond to your ask it is for a good reason. Sometimes I’m trying to answer other asks, I’m drawing up a response (that takes time), I’m holding on to it for a later date, I’m lacking motivation on answering or I just don’t want to. Pressuring me to answer your ask Doesn’t. Help. Just because you put in an ask doesn’t mean you’re entitled to an answer.

- Being aggressive or pushy with asks. I’m ok with playful aggression targeted towards characters (say for example someone expressing they hate Dice from Royalty) that’s ok. But there’s a line. And some have started to toe that line. Please tone it down a bit.

- Please don’t include me in any kinds of drama. Both internet and off. This includes political topics, wars, events, gossip, etc. I seriously don’t want anything to do with it. The purpose of this blog is to share my AUs and ideas and support other artists. Not for drama. If you’re gonna tag me it should be about art, AUs, and fandom related. I’m not gonna waste my energy, time, or stress on other stuff like that.

- And ig in terms of topics I want to avoid things like: NSFW, incest, p*dophilia, r*pe, proshipping, permanent disfiguration (like chopping off limbs stuff outside of I guess whatever I have built into the lore of my AUs), outright physical torture or major character death. (The usual things)

Warning: if you cross one of these boundaries I will give you some (2-3) warnings. If you continue to cross boundaries I will block you.

I’m sorry to be harsh about this but I really have to put my foot down on this. I can’t tolerate people who won’t respect my boundaries.

This post might be subject to change and updated as time goes and as I interact more with viewers/readers. If you are wondering if something you’re doing might be crossing a boundary, you can use this post as a reference. I’ll pin it to my blog so anyone can find it.

If you are still not sure or want clarification, or you have a specific circumstance in mind, you can jump down to the comments section of this post, send me an ask, or even go to my DMs (if you want to ask privately). I will more than likely see your question and I’ll try my best to answer as soon as possible. It might take a bit depending on if I’m busy IRL. So please be patient.

Anyway, thank you guys for taking the time to read this and respecting my boundaries. Your support with my blog and art so far is greatly appreciated im excited to continue to interact with y’all going forward!

List of my AUs!!!

This link will take you to the AU guide I had pinned previously!

I will update it as I go with talking about my AUs!

Thanks again,

Midnight/Sanity

Last updated: 06/24/24

[getonite]

hiiii! seen a couple of people do this, plus i realized i don't appreciate my mutuals as much as i should. and since the year is ending (literally today), i thought i'd appreciate y'all for a lil bit.

→ if the tagging irritated you, i apologize 🙏🏾. if i missed you, lmk, i was 100% half asleep while making this! (this is actually so embarrassing ngl. but i luv yall 🫶🏾)

(🎧 : avian) → @sensivs

starting off with my pookie with a beautiful (horny) brain. im dead fucking serious i have zero idea how we became mutuals (🧍🏾‍♂️). i just remembering talking to you one day, and the we were having full conversations in dms lmaoo. an emoji ring, helios, an unborn baby (??), and multiple fic ideas...now we're at the end of the year. i really appreciate you and all of your chaotic energy, it made me laugh! and all of your prompts are immaculate (🤌🏽). i await the days you post more fics or drabbles so i can support you the way you have me! :) luv u pooks, i def wanna ramble u more about hcs!

→ (i sound like im about to die omg)

(🎧 : snail/seraph) → @flimsyichigo

again, zero fucking idea when we became mutuals (i don't remember shit). we don't talk too often but i be seein you likeing my horrendously down bad and chaotic thoughts...i appreciate you bro (🙏🏾). i love your fluffy blue lock sruff, and your overall vibes are (yes, through the screen) amazing! thank you for dealing with my bullshit.

→ (as i type this, i realize just how many mutuals i have jeez, (half of which i barely talk to but still))

(🎧 : ame) → @pastelclovds

ameeeee, number 1 ive always loved your writing (iterally giggling and kicking my feet as i press the like button). your themes r so fucking gorgeous omg. we don't talk as often, but i love when we do interact. i hope we can more (im just easily embarrassed).

→ (i sound like a teenager leaving a love letter in a locker. omggggg)

(🎧 : ace ) → @acefantasyy

another person who puts up with my horrendously down bad bullshit takes. i applaude you for dealing with my ass lmaoo. but, on another note, i smile when i see you in my notes (no, i didn't originally mean that 2 b a joke). i really appreciate the reply you made when i went on a little break, thank you! i hope you continue to deal me, and i hope we interact more!

→ (i really gotta start talkin 2 yall more)

(🎧 : riri) → @pynkkgeto

we're friends irl. i don't have 2 say shit 4 u (luv uuu 🫶🏾)

(🎧 : rome) → @satocidal

yet another person who delt with my nonsense lol. you're quite busy, so you won't see this for a second. but thank you for being awesome and making me laugh with your naobito jokes. thank for the reply you left when i was the one going on break. hope all goes well for you!

(🎧 : idk ur name TvT) → @infrunamie

i feel so bad omg. but i wanted to appreciate your writing for a sec. whether its a drabble, headcanons, a fic, or just 100 words, your brain is miraculous when you write cuz it always leads to me wanted more. seriously, i love it. i was actually shocked you followed me, literally looked up to your writing ong (🙏🏾). i love it when you show up in my notes even if it's just a like. thank you for your reply when i went on break, trust, all of them got me through those shitty ass exams! ty!

→ (im sure this isn't what my therapist meant by being outgoing but im gunna do ts anyway)

(🎧 : spirit) → @spiritfrvr

literally the best vibes on earth i swear. your blog is like a fluffy hug omg. and (imo), you kinda bring that over to other blogs. i'd really like to talk to you more and ramble about random shit! :)

(🎧 : arlan) → @asuyaka

your drabbles r so cuuutee! i love them so much omg. especially the taking care of suguru one! i was surprised you liked my writing sm, and i love yours the same! i really appreciate the little reply under the break post and the christmas tree! seeing notifs of u makes me smile!

(🎧 : qi) → @yaekiss

i don't think we've been mutuals for too long, but omg we reeally should speak more!! i loved your message on the christmas tree! i love the vibe and look of your blog omg. i hope we can interact more!

(🎧 : juno) → @arlertdarling

hi junooo! ty for the message on my christmas tree, and i agree! we really should interact more! you seem like a realllly cool person, plus im on my fucking knees for your writing, dead serious. hope we can talk more, i hope you have a great 2024!

→ (srsly, y tf do i sound like im moving far away or smth TvT)

(🎧 : najma) → @honeybleed

ilysm ong. number one, we cousins (😔✊🏾; im joking pls help), number two, your theme was downright gorgeous (still is), number three, your writing it delicious. i haven't had too much time lately, buuut, i love how you post content that isn't completely smut (as a smut blog that fails at angst lol). its nice to get a break and see fluffy or angsty stuff in the tags instead of the same repeated material. you know you what you like and you stand firm in what you say (i need 2 b more like u fr), and your overall vibes are amazing! i love seeing your anime takes omg. i hope we can interact more in 2024!

→ (that kinda rhymed...and unrelated, but im listening to the mean girls soundtrack or 4 hours of sleep writing this)

(🎧 : yoru) → @dilfverz

number one, thank you for the messege on my christmas tree. number two, your so cool (😭). i love your themes and your writing, how you interact with ppl and anons is funny lol. literally look up to your writing ngl. i super appreciate your for explaining genshin impact to me, cuz im definitely not playing that damn game lol. your reblogs and likes in my notes make me wanna cry ngl. thank you for being so cool! (🙏🏾)

→ (am i over using emojis? i am so tired omg)

(🎧 : sy) → @wrizzesley

we just became mutuals like a week ago lmaoo. but i love your writing so much. and your themes?!?! (:O). i know damn well that shit is time consuming and exhausting, i applaud you, i could never lol. but anyway, i hope we can interact more in this new year. i think your really cool!

(🎧 : astro? idk im so sorry) → @astroknottt

i love your writing holy fuck. but other than that, i love it when you reblog my stuff! esp with those little comments, they've given me a bunch of motivation. and seeing you write such toe curling shit, that gives me motivation too! hope we can interact some more in the new year!

→ (pls ignore my silent pleas for help in these notes, but my vision is wonky. i promise im going to sleep in a second)

(🎧 : ) → @naee0

your probably locked out of tumblr again lol. but if you see this, thank you for your chaotic energy! and even if it was one sentence, what you sent on thr break post, i really appreciate it! even if you or me aren't on tumblr much, i hope we can interact a bit more! you're pretty cool! and i loved those drabbles. i hope your doing great!

PRODUCER MESSEGE: "i think that was all. again, if i missed you, please lmk. i might have been blind (my eyes prolly look like that squidward meme). but i appreciate all of you! thank you, and pls dont hate me 🙏🏾"

[soukokumychildren]

I. ABSOLOUTLY. ADORE YOUR IDEA WITH YOUR AU SO MUCHhhhhaaaaah!! ✨✨✨✨🖤🖤

Chuuya having WINGS!!? Even though he could in somee way fly before already, it feels so different with wings!! Like really cool!!

(( I have always Liked wings -

Is your AU going to follow the main time-line of the show? Like, the illustrations you've posted sure does look like it-- (love them- love this idea-) ((Soukoku Reunion where Chuuya has feathers!!? ✨)

Wait, wait, wait, No- dont spoil anything..! (maybe just a little yes or no- that wouldn't really spoil anything—) I will find out as I read—!

I mainly wanted to say I'm really looking forward to reading this!!

It's my first BSD AU where it follows the main time-line - just differently- as well! A thing I really like!!

Well, if it really does ofc, but It sure does look like it—Arg, I gotta just continue reading soon——

Even if it don't this seems really interesting already!!!

Ahem, anyhow, this became a bit long- I wanted to expres my excitement about this-especially after, you even looked at some of my BSD stuff after I followed you!!!!

Thank you soo much!✨ That became the last push to write this little too long text, that isn't really a question, but more like a thank you-ahh im excited for this-- that I had already considered writing to you after I started reading😅😅👍

This entire post just made my day and while I could I'd rather not risk dying from lightheadedness from spinning too fast in excitement in my spinny chair XDDDDD THANK YOU SO MUCH

I can't express how embarrassed I am just fshfhsgshgsghshg I have been CRAZY for wings for AGES now, and I just saw soooo many posts about how "what if Chuuya could fly Dazai" I thought, fuckers, I can make that REALITY And it is going to follow the main timeline of the show just...alot differently but at the same time trying really hard to stick to the normal plot In hindsight that means I must suffer with all my energy to watch the first season of bsd (When I first watched BSD, the first episodes were for setup, and rightfully so. That all made sense, it really put the characters together. But I watched it a second time and it dragged ON and ON and I COULDN'T STAND IT UNTIL CHUUYA CAME TO GRAB DAZAI gARgHHrhgh). I must admit I'm confused on the "Soukoku reunion where Chuuya has feathers" bit though 🤔 And currently during the plot I'm writing I have to improvise ALOT from what I know, and really this fic is also whatever the fuck I wanna write with whatever writing style I have on hand slapped into each 1K chapter so I'm really trying here LOL Also the fact when [undisclosed plot device] will be introduced, I'll be writing seperate smut for [undisclosed plot device] because I can then do WHATEVER I want wITHOUT any repercussions Hopefully I can add in [undisclosed plot device] just in a way that people will understand. Though I hear that Beast Dazai also came across [undisclosed plot device] at one point :D

I'm going SO offtopic here LMFAO And seriously? Really??? I'm surprised! I'm sure theres alot of fics that go by the timeline, I especially have run into cough ones which I liked which are specifically smut related..... and I go back to off topic I'm sorry LMAO But I'm sosoosososo glad you like it! It just means alot to me you wrote alot and now I'm just ranting because you've shown genuine interest without going off the rails (as far as I've seen) so this is pretty cool for me too!!! And I do usually look to peoples accounts who follow me (especially those who find interest in a SURPRISING amount of my stuff XD) so yeah, that's why and I found some GOOD stuff on your account too, so that's REALLY awesome. Talk to me any time! Dm me, reblog and talk to me that way, use replies, whatever the fuck! I love talking to people, and this was genuinely fun to write. :]

[sunflowersteves]

I did a lot of reflecting with myself and my very wonderful and lovely mutuals on an anon I received about confusion on my fic.

And I just wanna say, first, that my response was a very nice one, and also me defending some of the choices that I made (again, v nicely). But I realized after thinking about it that the reason I responded in the first place was that I felt as though it was my fault. The entire tone of the ask felt extremely accusatory, and not once asked kindly for any help.

No author should be torn down and ridiculed from your own confusion. Even if we look past the blatantly rude and entitled tone, the anon didn’t say hi, didn’t ask for any clarification, didn’t point to any specific passages or quotes, and didn’t ask if they could send me a dm. They didn’t give me anything to work with.

They just ridiculed me. They asked if I was serious—if I could “get things straight.” They told me every single issue they had rather than actually engaging with me on any confusion.

I have no problems if someone is confused about dialogue or plot or character decisions and asks, kindly, for clarification. Please, understand that. I encourage you, very much so, that if you are confused, please let me know. I will gladly help, and I have in the past.

And! I have no problems if you don’t like the choices I make regarding the plot points of my fic. that’s okay! You don’t have to. You’re not obligated to enjoy every single fic you read.

But when you tear my fic, limb from limb, and make me feel extremely discouraged, to the point where I thought any and all problems were my fault when it was yours? Especially as the pieces they complained about are in the warnings. All of them. Yeah, that’s not okay.

Here’s a bullet point list of some of the “confusion” they had and how I know their ask in my ask box was bullshit:

Joel was mean (in the warnings)

Joel is jealous (in the warnings and the literal plot of the series)

reader gets mad at Joel, Joel gets mad at reader (in the warnings)

smut after a six-week coma/hygiene (we’re literally talking about a post-apocalyptic reality, and others have confirmed with me that the reader is heavily implied to be bathed)

Joel is jealous (referenced again; THE PLOT & IN WARNINGS)

Ellie is two doors down from the smut happening (she is not, use context clues)

My point in responding and breaking down their “confusion” is to point out two things.

One? Read the warning tags. For the love of god, read the warnings all the way through. I promise you, you will not only understand more about the fic but you also won’t be surprised by anything.

Two? Please don’t do this to writers on this app OR anywhere at all. This is not how you ask for help when you need it. This is an extremely rude, arrogant, and entitled way of telling a writer you’re “confused.” I seriously doubt you would tell a writer this irl, in my opinion.

If you actually want authors, especially on this app, to engage with you, write the fics you want them to write, etc., DONT ACT LIKE THIS.

But also, it’s my fanfiction. It’s my writing. Every ridicule they placed on my fic was given to me as if my particular plot points were awful, and it felt as though they were insinuating that I should change them.

And you know what? I’m 21. I’m a college student. I’m still learning to write because it’s a skill. And that’s okay! It’s okay when fanfics lack clarity or have rough grammar. It’s okay if the plot doesn’t make entirely a lot of sense. It’s okay!

Now, I’m so happy to have grown from that experience, as well as have an amazing support group of people on this app. So, I will continue to be writing the series. I will continue to be writing for that character. I’m not changing a damn thing in my fic for clarification.

Again, I want to thank my mutuals for yanking me back up and helping me understand the depths of the ask they sent me. And big, big thanks to @honeystevie for helping me see that because without her initial reply, I’m sure I would’ve been in a very large discouraged writing hole. love you, rika <3

tagging some wonderful mutuals as a thanks and I’m giving a big hug: @moonlight-prose @cocoamoonmalfoy @tarrenterror25 @themarcusmoreno @fleurfairie @indouloureux @ghostofskywalker @iraot @dearest-readers @fxllfaiiry @fluffyprettykitty @targaryenvampireslayer @galatially @navybrat817 @rae-gar-targaryen @saradika