#so like i just threw some shit together haphazardly since im not really wanting an internship rn and figure i can fix it later

[ocpdzim]

potential employers looking at my handshake profile:

[zevlors-tail]

Can you plz make a one-shot with Midoriya and his crush cuddling him because she is sad and Deku tries to calm her down. She ends up telling her feelings for him and tells him how much she loves him. I thought it would be cute.....

This is super cute! I love it! Thanks for requesting! :) I hope you like it. <3

You sighed as the rain drummed against your dorm window, soft thundering sounds echoing in the distance. School was over for the day, your training was canceled no thanks to the rain (though it more likely had to do with the fact that things were rough lately for everyone including the teachers at UA, so maybe this was their way of giving everyone a small break), and it was a drab Friday night with nothing else to do. Well, that wasn’t necessarily true, seeing as you’d been invited to the impromptu movie/dinner night that your class had thrown together at the last minute. You were sure it would be fun; Mina was probably already setting up her laptop for the movie, you could practically smell the delicious food that Bakugou would be making for dinner, and you imagined your best friends Asui, Iida, Izuku, and Ochaco sharing a huge bowl of popcorn, some drinks, and the large cuddle pile they were probably heaped in already. It wasn’t that you wanted to miss out on all of that...in fact, you wanted so desperately to be down there with everyone else. But...

You couldn’t help yourself as you pulled your knees to your chest, your face pressing into them to hide the hot tears streaming down your face. Sometimes, you just felt sad. You didn’t really have a reason for it- nothing had happened out of the ordinary, had it? You wracked your brain for any and every reason you could find, but honestly...there were none. This happened occasionally. You never told anyone, but sometimes the world just felt like it was caving in, and for no good reason either. You didn’t understand it, but you weren’t particularly concerned about it since it didn’t happen often and it usually didn’t last very long (a day at the most). However, it could get in the way of seeing your friends and family, just as it was now. There was no way you were going to go see them all looking like a complete train wreck with your red puffy eyes and tear stained cheeks. You’d been crying since the moment you got back to your dorm, and it showed.

Your phone pulled you from your thoughts as it made a dinging noise, the familiar text tone you picked out for your best friend Izuku sounding throughout your room. You ignored it at first, tears starting to come faster as your sobbed harder and took shaky breaths. You missed your friends. As selfish as it was, you wished they were here with you and not watching a movie with the rest of the class in the common area. Your phone dinged again for a second time, and then a third and a fourth, maybe even more. Eventually you silenced it after hearing it so much, then finally wiped at your eyes before letting out a small whine and picking it up in your hands. If Izuku was texting you this much then you should answer him, even if it was about wanting you to come down and watch the movie with them. Otherwise, he would probably come up and get you himself, and then you would have a hell of a time trying to explain what was wrong and why you were crying your tired eyes out. It would be hard to convince him you were okay after that, and you didn’t want to bother him or anyone else for that matter with this.

Izuku Are you coming down to watch the movie? 5:37pm

Izuku Y/N? 5:50pm

Izuku Are you okay? Please text me back so I know you’re alright. Everyone’s worried about you. 5:52pm

Izuku I’m worried about you... 5:52pm

Izuku If you don’t text back in the next 5 minutes I’m coming up to check on you. 5:55pm

You glanced at the clock in the upper lefthand corner of your phone.

5:59pm

Shit!

You typed out a hastily made response, your thumb hovering over the send button for a moment as you debated whether it was even worth it to do so. What was the point? Nothing was going to change how you were feeling, and the text you had come up with sounded nothing like you. In your saddened state you had typed out a mess of jumbled words, misspelled and haphazardly thrown together; he would know something was wrong from the text anyway. You deemed it better to just ignore the whole thing and go back to wallowing in sadness for the night. So, you lay your head down on your pillow, threw the blanket over yourself, and turned towards the window to stare out of it while you cried silently, your gaze focused on nothing in particular.

Not even a minute later you heard a soft knock at your door. It’s probably Midoriya, you thought, ignoring the growing headache the knocking was causing. If he would just leave you alone to suffer in peace, then you would be fine. It would pass, and you would go back to normal the next day, and no one would ever have to know about this. Another knock resounded, this time louder, and you groaned quietly so he wouldn’t hear you on the other side of the door.

“Y/N...? Are you awake? Please, let me in.” His voice carried in from the hallway, and even though it was muffled by the wall, there was evident concern and fret in it.

Despite the boy’s efforts to get you to let him in your room, you ignored him and continued crying to yourself. You willed him to go away and stay at the same time; you wanted to be left alone, but you didn’t. Wanted him to be there for you and talk to you about it, but you wanted him to leave. Wanted to have support, but didn’t want to ask for it yourself. Feelings were a double edged sword. 

Your phone lit up next to you, illuminating the dark room with a brightness that made you screw your eyes shut for a second. It was another message from Izuku.

Izuku I know you’re in there, and I know you’re reading my messages. What’s wrong? 6:01pm

Izuku was no idiot, and he knew you were ignoring him. At this rate he was likely to barge into your room, and you didn’t want that. You just had to convince him to leave, then. But how? Your voice was hoarse from crying all night, and you weren’t sure that you could give a proper “I’m fine” if you tried, anyway. You’d probably end up botching it and crying again halfway through. If you couldn’t verbally tell him you were okay, then what...?

You unlocked your phone with a shaky hand and opened your messages before deleting what you had previously typed, then slowly typed out a short message before finally hitting send.

Y/N Im fine jst tired slepying sorry 6:02pm

Luckily for you, Izuku knew better. You two had been best friends for a long time now, and he knew you like the back of his scarred hands. He knew what could bring a smile to your face, how you liked your tea, what subjects you struggled and excelled in, and which of your friends you were closest to (he especially liked to pride himself in knowing he was number one on that list). Fortunately for you both, the list of things he knew and understood about you included the little mannerisms that you had when something was bothering you. 

So when he finally received a response from you with no punctuation and grammar mistakes, he knew something was wrong. That, coupled with how you had been ignoring his texts earlier and then how you suddenly sent back a response in such little time told him that you weren’t okay. It seemed like such a small thing to pick at...such a small thing to overlook. But Izuku had long since learned that sometimes the little things in life could make a world of difference to someone else. Those little things he learned about you were the most important things he knew, because in times like these, they helped him determine what to do for you. He wasted no time in trying your doorknob, and upon finding it unlocked, he let himself in to your darkened room with the excuse that something just didn’t feel right about your situation.

The door shut behind him as he spoke, “I’m so sorry, I know I shouldn’t just let myself in, but you-”  He stopped mid sentence as he heard a sniffle, and then a muffled sob coming from the misshapen lump under your covers. “Y-Y/N?” It only took him half a second to figure out that the noise he was hearing was you crying, and by then he was already rushing over to see if you were okay. “What’s wrong? Are you not feeling well? Did I do something? I’m sorry I barged in like that! I was just worried-”

“No, no, no,” you shook your head and denied his apology with more tears, your hand coming up to wipe at your face. “You...you didn’t do anything, so- so please don’t apologize-!” you choked out. “I didn’t want you to see me like this...” 

In an effort to hide your ashamed face, you pulled your covers over your chin and buried your face in your pillow so he couldn’t see the damage done by hours worth of crying. The darkness of the room helped a little, shadows dancing on your bed as the stormy weather raged on outside. However, Izuku wordlessly sat next to you on your bed and reached over to your night stand to tug at the cord to your lamp, and suddenly light was illuminating your bed and your figure...including your face. Izuku let out a small gasp at the proper sight of you, concern for you winding his stomach into knots. 

“Y/N...” he sighed softly. “Why didn’t you say anything? Have you been crying this whole time?”

You said nothing, only giving a slight nod of your head at his words with your eyes screwed shut, fresh tears welling up. Izuku held back a sniffle himself (always the sympathetic crier) before unexpectedly pulling back your covers and sliding under them next to you. The next thing you knew, he was spooning you from behind with an arm draped over your side, his thumb rubbing soothingly against you while you cried it all out. Any apologies attempted on your behalf after that were hushed quickly by your best friend, and you found yourself quieting down, albeit slowly. You weren’t sure how long the two of you stayed like that, cuddling in your bed for comfort. The movie you were supposed to be watching with everyone else was long since forgotten about, and you were starting to regret not eating dinner- your stomach was protesting in growls and rumbles at the worst times, but you stayed where you were, afraid to disturb your cuddle buddy if you moved at all. And when your cries turned to small sniffles and your breathing evened out a bit, Izuku finally broke the comfortable silence between you both.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

You pondered the question for a moment before responding. “What’s there to talk about, really?” It wasn’t like you had a legitimate explanation for him; you were sad without a reason. It happened sometimes. There wasn’t much you could do about it.

But Izuku, interpreting your statement in a different way, immediately pulled you closer and nuzzled his face to the back of your neck in reassurance. “You can’t bottle everything up like that. Something is clearly wrong with my best friend, and I’d like to know what so I can help. Please just let me in.”

“Oh, no, that’s not- I didn’t mean...” You tried to explain the best you could. “I appreciate you trying to help, Izuku. I really do. Sometimes I just...get sad. That’s all there is to it. I know it’s stupid, but there’s just no reason behind it. I just...feel sad. Maybe there’s something wrong with me...”

“It’s not stupid,” he rebuked firmly. “It’s more common than you’d think for people to be sad without a reason. We all have days like that, and that’s okay. It doesn’t mean you’re any less of a human being because of it, or that there’s something wrong with you.” 

“...really?” You rolled over to face him, your eyes meeting his as you looked up at him.

“Of course. But I wish you would have told me sooner so I could have been there to help you through it, Y/N. That’s what I’m here for. You can lean on me for support and ask for help, it’s okay.” He brought a hand to your face and tilted your chin up towards him so he could have all of your focus and attention, and suddenly you were aware of how very close his face was to yours. “I know it might be a lot to ask, but...can you promise me something?”

You stared into his deep emerald eyes, admiring the sincerity and ferocity you saw in them. “Anything,” you murmured. For Izuku, you would give your entire world up and more. Being this close in proximity to him reminded you of your giant crush on the boy; you’d liked him for a long time, ever since you’d met him back in middle school in fact, but you had never mentioned anything to him or asked him out because you didn’t want to ruin the friendship you had. There were times where you thought maybe he returned your feelings, but then you would doubt yourself and brush it all off with the excuse that he was like that with everyone; he loved all his friends, was touchy with all of his friends, would go to great lengths to make all of his friends happy. You were nothing special.

“Promise me you’ll tell me when you’re sad next time so I can help you.”

Of course he would ask that of you. And of course you promised you would do so, because this was Izuku- your best friend, current cuddle buddy, and your obvious crush. “I promise.”

“Good.” He patted your cheek playfully and smiled down at you in content. “I heard your stomach grumbling earlier, by the way. You never came down for dinner, did you?”

“No,” you answered simply. You had been too upset to even stop in the common area to greet anyone or say anything before you had headed up to your dorm for the night.

“Then let’s go get you something to eat; I’m pretty sure Kacchan saved you some of what he made for dinner.” 

He moved to get up from your bed. You weren’t sure what compelled you to do so, but you were filled with brazenness all of the sudden, unafraid of the consequences of your actions if even just for a small moment. You grabbed Izuku’s arm before he could leave, pulling him back a bit and earning his undivided attention.

“Actually...there’s something I want to tell you first.”

“What is it?” 

He looked at you curiously as you bit your bottom lip and thought about how you were going to say this. It was usually best to be direct, right? Well, that’s what you were going to go with then. And if things didn’t work out...you didn’t really want to think about getting rejected. There was a lot you were putting on the line by doing this...your friendship included. You were tired of holding yourself back though, tired of keeping your feelings inside for so long. Maybe it was the cuddling, maybe it was how close your faces had been to each other, or maybe it was the soothing sounds of the rain pouring down from the heavens. Whatever it was, something had made you feel closer to him, and you wanted that all the time. You wanted a warm fuzzy relationship with him full of affection and love and care.

“Izuku. I love you.” Awkward silence filled the room, and before you could be rejected, you started to explain yourself, as if that would help your situation. “I’ve always really liked you, and you’ve always been there for me, and you’re so kind and caring and amazing! But I didn’t want to say anything because I didn’t think you liked me back, and I was afraid to ruin our friendship. And now I’m afraid I have...agh, what did I do? I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything, but I just couldn’t hold it in anymore and-”

You were interrupted with a kiss as Izuku quickly pressed his soft lips to yours, and just like that, he was pulling away as fast as he had swooped in.

“S-Sorry! I should have asked fir- Mmph!”

If he thought he could get away with kissing you and not being kissed in return, then he was sorely mistaken. No way in hell were you letting him go now that you knew he returned your feelings.

“I don’t mind at all.” You smiled at him as you pulled away, and he gave you a lopsided grin in return. 

“You know I love you too, right?”

“I do now.” 

“Don’t you forget it! Now come on,” he said, tugging you up and out of bed gently. “Let’s go fix you some dinner.”

[pechebeche]

been thinking a lot, again, about st judas and cleaning the slate. im finally at a point again where i can think abt it without having an immediate panic attack, which is nice. and much as the d20 fandom Pulled Some Shit on me - that fic was an important part of my life for so long.

much as accidentally losing everything on my blog was a nightmare, i am really enjoying the newfound fandom anonymity. part of me doesnt want to update the actual fic on ao3 to explain how it was planned to go, because it could mean those people finding me again. but i also want a record of it somewhere. i loved this story. all of the little plot twists and foreshadowing are going to be lost to time. accidentally deleting everything ive made since 2012 threw it back into perspective how important it is, to me, to archive my work.

so, in the interest of meeting in the middle, for anyone whos managed to stick around: here’s the final scene of st judas - in the spirit of this scene i posted a while back, because riz’s existential dread after dying and finding no afterlife was going to form the crux of the second- and third-act conflicts. and i’ll talk abt it, because i loved this fic, and i still think about it all the time. but im done working on it. im not touching it anymore. i have to let it go.

here’s to closure and happy endings, yall. <3

“What if when I die, it’s still like that?” Riz whispers. He’s sitting up in the darkness, his eyes doing that weird nightvision glint, eerie, catlike. His body is collapsed on itself, like he’s got no bones, or maybe like he’s all bones, just a pile stacked haphazardly imitating human form, fingers clenching in the blanket. “What if I stop existing?”

Fabian rolls over. “It won’t be.” 

“You don’t know that.” 

Fabian props himself up on one arm. When he tugs, Riz comes over easily, lets Fabian pull him over to lay down. “Then I’ll go to wherever you’re not-existing,” Fabian says, firm. He wants his voice to be all daring and adventure and I-can-do-anything-adventurer-naivety, but it’s coming out too soft to hit right. “And I’ll re-exist you.” 

Riz fuzzes out of his gloom, a little, fixing Fabian with a raised eyebrow, lips quirking – hesitant, half-making himself. “You might not be able to re-exist me,” he says, gentle and teasing and mourning at once. 

Fabian shrugs. “Then I’ll unexist myself so that we’re not-existing together.” 

Riz laughs out loud at that, burying his face in Fabian’s shoulder as he snorts, embarrassing and weird-sounding and irredeemably charming. “That’s so morbid,” he giggles, “don’t do that, oh my god, that’s so sad sounding - “ 

“Nah, I’m gonna.” 

“Don’t - Fabian, what the fuck, absolutely not.” 

“Hmm, too bad.” Fabian throws an arm around Riz. Riz yelps, flails, but settles into the grip, still half-smiling, curled up against Fabian’s chest. Fabian thinks, I would follow you anywhere you go. He thinks, You asked me to stay. I want to stay. “If I can’t bring you to me, I’m coming to you. That’s just how it is.” 

Riz isn’t smiling, but his expression is still fond, soft, slack against the pain and fear that had dominated it only a moment ago. “Thought the whole point was to live forever,” he says. “You don’t have to do that.” 

“Maybe - maybe that was the wrong point.” Fabian hesitates. He focuses his gaze on his thumb, rubbing circles into Riz’s shoulder where the hand is resting, so that he doesn’t have to meet Riz’s eyes. “Maybe the point is...is not living forever. Maybe. Maybe living forever is not the whole thing.” 

Fabian can’t look at Riz’s face, but he can still tell, peripheral, and maybe instinctive, that Riz’s face has gone impossibly soft, that Riz is proud of whatever breakthrough he’s stumbling his way through right now. Somehow, he still doesn’t see Riz’s hand as it comes up to cover his, doesn’t realize until it’s there, running smooth over his knuckles, a grip on a grip. “Maybe it’s not about living forever,” Riz repeats, watching careful. 

“Maybe...” Fabian swallows. “Maybe it’s about – about living good. Or happy. Or – I don’t know. Maybe it’s about...something else. Not living forever.” 

“You don’t have to know,” Riz whispers. “Maybe it’s about finding out what it’s about.” 

Fabian’s mouth twitches, an instinctive huff of laugh. He meets Riz’s eyes again. “Maybe it is,” he says. “Maybe not. But – whatever it is. I want to do it with you.” 

Riz pulls Fabian’s hand off his shoulder, up to his mouth, kisses each finger. Fabian’s breath catches. “Fabian,” Riz says, sincere, from the gut, “that’s kinda gay.” 

[maybeebeee]

The Instance of the Curry Cup

Hi! I haven’t written and posted something in quite a while, but Pokemon SWSH has absolutely consumed my life so here’s a little thing while I’m writing a much bigger thing!

A group chat leads to a party that leads to a curry cooking competition. Piers relentlessly teases Gloria for having a crush on Hop. Hop has a crisis. Just another day in the life of some of Galar's most prominent figures.

As a note for the group chat section of this fic, here are the nicknames to note which characters are who!

Hippity Hop = Hop Eat Sand = Raihan Champion Time Snr = Leon Croon Toondra = Gloria Mermaid = Nessa Big Tiddy Goth GF = Piers Flame Dad(dy) = Kabu Wooloolooloo = Milo Kung Fu Fighting = Bea Rocky Horror = Gordie Baby Goth = Marnie

Rated G, some mild language use | Hop, Gloria, and the other rivals are around 15/16 | Read on AO3 or under the cut!

It had all started with a group chat.

Not long after becoming Champion, Gloria had been added to the gym leader group chat. Leon, Piers, and Opal were still in it and she had learned quickly that Piers, Gordie, and Raihan were the instigators of most of the chaos in that chat. Marnie seemed to encourage her brother a little too much on that front, but overall it was fairly controlled chaos.

Then the second group chat came about.

Raihan had started it, mainly to avoid Melony’s constant reminders to be aware of the language being used with Allister around on the other chat. Subsequently, neither Melony nor Allister were on the new chat.

Nearly everyone else was, though, besides Opal. Even Hop and Sonia had been added, given that it was more of an open chat than the “official” gym leader one. Given that combination, however, it was far more of an ordeal to try and deal with that group, and with Piers and Raihan apparently never sleeping at all, it felt like Gloria’s Rotomphone was constantly buzzing with notifications at even the most insane hours of the night.

It had been just over a year since she’d won the Champion Cup, and Gloria now found herself standing in the kitchen of Leon’s sizable flat in Wyndon, surrounded by the physical embodiment of the most ridiculous parts of that second group chat.

Raihan had suggested the party-but-not a few weeks back, and after a fair bit of negotiating schedules, it had been decided that tonight was the best night to do it, so here they all were. Gloria was glad for the reprieve from her neverending Champion duties, and she’d been absolutely over the moon to see Hop again after what seemed like forever.

And now here she was, knocking elbows with her rival-slash-best friend as they and a bunch of their partially tipsy adult friends battled it out in what had been dubbed the Curry Cup by whoever had suggested the stupid idea in the first place. Probably Raihan.

“Two minutes left!” Slurred Sonia from across the bench. She was just about completely relying on Nessa to stay on her feet at this point, yet somehow still had it in her to decide how much longer those of them competing could cook for. Coming to these gatherings had certainly been an eye-opening experience for Gloria, seeing so many of the most well-known figures in Galar coming together and getting completely sauced for the hell of it.

“You said ten minutes literally thirty seconds ago!” Hop whined, haphazardly throwing in some extra ingredients to finish off his curry when Sonia simply waved him off. Gloria wondered how much of Sonia’s hangover her friend would have to deal with at the lab in the morning, or if the young professor simply wouldn’t show up at all.

It certainly wasn’t two minutes before all of the participants were ushered away from their curries, but Hop still seemed quite confident with his final product. Gloria couldn’t say the same for her own, especially being so used to taking her time with cooking when she camped out with her Pokemon. Not that she had much time to do that anymore, really.

“Sorry to say, but I’m definitely crushing you in this competition, mate, I can just feel it!” Hop said as he slung a friendly arm around Gloria’s shoulders, watching intently as Sonia, Nessa, and Bea walked along the row of curries on the bench to judge them all. Gloria tried to ignore how warm her face was suddenly feeling, but the look she got from Piers told her she wasn’t doing a great job at hiding it.

Damn her own big mouth for blabbing to him about her crush on Hop, the one time she couldn’t sleep and happened to be awake at three in the morning, with Piers being the only one she could think to message at that hour. It had been a good conversation, actually, but still.

Every time she’d seen him since then, it seemed like he was teasing her about Hop. Even directly in front of Hop. It was constant, but Piers claimed it was because Marnie didn’t get crushes on people, so he was using her as a stand-in when it came to teasing about that kind of thing.

Ignoring the ex-gym leader’s very obvious silent mocking, Gloria turned her attention back to Hop and lightly elbowed him in the side before wrapping her own arm around him in return. “As if,” She laughed, “Who’s the undefeated champion in this room? I’ve got this in the bag.”

As it turned out, neither of them were destined to be crowned the Curry Cup Champion, and the competition ultimately went to Leon. Hop decided that it was all rigged because the judges weren’t sober, and had wandered back into the living room with a dramatic huff as most of the other guests went to congratulate his brother.

Piers seemed to take the opportunity to suddenly appear next to Gloria with a ridiculously smug look on his face. “Seems you’re ‘aving fun. Said anything to ‘im yet?”

She folded her arms and pouted crossly. “No. Cannae say anythin’ with you nearby anyway, you’re such a pest.”

Piers scoffed. “Please. I’m doing the both of you a favour, bruv, since ‘e won’t say it and neither will you. The two’ve you are gonna go crazy if this keeps up. I’m gonna go crazy if I ‘ave to watch you idiots keep dancin’ around each other for the rest of time!”

“Shut up, he’s obviously not got anythin’ to say on the topic. Do ye know how much he talks? Surely he’d have said something by now if there was somethin’ to say.”

“Do you ‘ave any idea how much he talks to me? ‘E always messages me at times kids your age shouldn’t be up, sayin’ how he doesn’t want to bother you but can’t sleep and keeps thinkin’ about you so ‘e decided to message me and blah blah blah. Please just tell ‘im so that he actually messages you when he’s thinkin’ about you, there’s only so much more of his sappy shit I can take.” Piers practically begged, seeming like he was mere seconds away from pulling out his phone to show her the evidence. Gloria didn’t doubt that Hop had messaged him plenty, but she still wasn’t convinced that he reciprocated her feelings, even though she knew she had no reason not to believe Piers.

Still, she pulled up the collar of her cardigan to try and hide the bright blush on her face at the thought of Hop being all sappy about her. The question still remained, though, “Why doesn’t he just tell me that himself? Not like he hasn’t messaged me at four AM before sayin’ he misses me or whatever. Gotta say I’ve done the same, prob’ly more sappy than him too.”

Piers gave a dramatic sigh and turned back towards the kitchen. “I need another drink. You’re ‘opeless, the both of you.”

Gloria let out a huff of her own, but decided now would be a good time to retreat after her rival, hoping that maybe now they could actually catch up a bit more now that she’d gotten Piers off her back and everyone else was still preoccupied in the kitchen. Only, she got to the living room and found Marnie and Bede, with no Hop in sight. The other two weren’t sure where he’d gone, only giving a vague direction to “outside.”

With that clue in mind, Gloria headed for the balcony, recalling how Hop had mentioned once that he liked to stand out there and see if he could spot Postwick in the distance, past all of Wyndon’s bright lights and vast expanse of the Wild Area even further past that. It seemed like a good place to start.

True to her assumption, Hop was leaning against the railing and squinting out into the night, so she casually sidled up next to him and prodded his shoulder. “Thinkin’ about something, Hopscotch?” She questioned, a gentle teasing note in her voice.

Hop shrugged. “Nothing to worry about, mate. Just the usual.” His tone was flatter than Gloria had been expecting, so she raised an unconvinced eyebrow at him despite the fact that he wasn’t looking at her yet.

“The good usual or the anxiety usual?” The teasing was gone now, replaced with concern as she let her hand rest on Hop’s shoulder. Many late-night phone calls over the past year had made Gloria well aware of the fact that her best friend still suffered greatly from the many untruths and insecurities that his mind threw at him, even though he seemed to be doing better than he ever had before on the outside, and it was always heartbreaking to watch when he got like this.

“Stop calling me out like that.” Hop joked halfheartedly, his weak smile quickly falling back into a frown, “But really, don’t worry. Just me getting all upset over something stupid again, which is the usual.”

Gloria squeezed his shoulder. “I’ll bet my hat it’s not stupid. Is it the competition?”

He nodded sheepishly following a moment of silence, as if he knew he wasn’t getting out of this now. “It is stupid. Who gets worked up about losing some stupid curry contest that Raihan came up with anyway? It was supposed to just be some fun thing and I ruined it for myself by...by doing what I always bloody do, you know? Losing, and then getting upset about losing, and then getting upset because I know I’m never going to be number one at anything, and then beating myself up for being so stupid, and--”

“Hey.” Gloria interjected, “You’re not stupid, you hear me? Losing doesn’t make ye stupid. Being upset about things doesn’t make you stupid, and your brain lying to you about your worth doesn’t make ye stupid. You are not stupid, alright? You’re strong.” She encouraged, shifting to settle her arm properly across Hop’s shoulders and pull him closer to her side. Their height difference was making it a little harder now that he’d suddenly sprouted almost half a head taller than her since the last time they’d seen each other, but Gloria didn’t care.

Hop didn’t say anything, but leaned into her a little more, so she continued. “You wanna know a secret? You’re my number one. Always have been. So don’t go sayin’ you’re not the best at anything, because you’re the best to me.”

There was nothing but the sound of Wyndon's bustling streets below for a long moment, but suddenly Gloria was being pulled into a tight hug, with Hop's head resting atop hers. "Thanks. Really." He breathed into her hair, "For the record, you're my number one, too. Undefeated champ or not." The soft laugh he let out that time was genuine, and Gloria couldn't help the smile that came to her face in response. Never would there be another sound as sweet as Hop's laughter, she thought. 

When she finally leaned back just enough to look at Hop properly, Gloria had to take a breath to compose herself, suddenly noticing the lack of space between their faces. She hadn't intended on that happening, so she tried to ignore it, like she always tried to ignore her feelings for him. "Say, I was thinkin' about going camping in the Wild Area tonight, wanna tag along? We could make some curry together with our Pokemon, no competition allowed." That wasn't exactly the usual way one went about ignoring their feelings, but at this point she figured it didn't matter. How many times had they camped out together anyway? No big deal.

Hop beamed. "Sounds brilliant! Shall we go now?"

Gloria laughed, but was already reaching into her bag to find Flygon’s pokeball. Since becoming Champion she’d realised she needed to be extra careful about keeping her Pokemon as close to her as possible, especially given that she now had Zamazenta as a trusted member of her team. She didn’t want anything to happen to any of her dear Pokemon friends, which was why these days she always kept her bag on her, or at least within arm’s reach no matter where she was. Just in case.

Flygon let out a happy trill as it burst from its pokeball, setting down expectantly on the balcony behind Hop and Gloria as if it already knew their plan. The two young trainers quickly climbed aboard the eager Pokemon's back, and Gloria's heart began to race when Hop settled in behind her and curled his arms around her waist. We're about to take off, you daft bastard, of course he's gotta hold onto something, she reminded herself. 

“Alright, Flygon, let’s get goin’. To the Wild Area!” Gloria announced. The Pokemon didn’t hesitate to take to the sky once again, both of its passengers whooping with delight once the initial jolts and jerks had passed. Maybe a Flying Taxi would’ve been a smoother ride, but there was something so much better about trusting your own Pokemon enough to transport you safely to where you wanted to go, and it was certainly cheaper than paying to get all the way to the Motostoke side of the Wild Area from Wyndon in a Flying Taxi.

It had already been reasonably dark when they’d left Wyndon, being a little while after dinner time by then, but by the time they made it to North Lake Miloch it was well and truly night time outside. Gloria had actually started to doze off at some point when there had been a pause in conversation, and she awoke with a start as Flygon landed back on the ground. Thank goodness for Hop being able to direct Flygon as effectively as she could herself.

Still, the heat rushed back to her cheeks when she realised that she’d been leaning almost entirely back into Hop’s chest as she’d fallen asleep, but by that point she could only hope that he hadn’t taken too much notice of it. They’d fallen asleep on each other plenty of times, anyway, why should it matter now? Catching feelings was annoying.

If Hop had thought anything of it, he didn’t mention it, and the two of them went about setting up camp with as much friendly banter as usual. Gloria had a handful of berries and half a bag of mushrooms in her supplies, while Hop had some other berries to contribute as well as a few potatoes. They figured it would all mix well enough together, so they let out all of their Pokemon and set to work.

“Maybe letting twelve Pokemon have free reign of the camp wasn’t the best idea.” Hop commented when Gloria’s Flareon came up for the third time to try and taste some of the curry before it was ready. 

“I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about,” The Champion said coyly, gently shooing away her meddlesome Pokemon, “They’re all such angels, they’re not doing anything wrong at all.”

Hop laughed. “You’re right, it’s just Flareon. And also our Dubwools chasing each other around everywhere. And Zacian and Zamazenta looking like they’re about to murder anyone that dares get too close to the camp.”

Gloria shrugged as she fished around for a few plates to get ready for serving up. “At least they’re looking out for us. I feel better having them ‘round, just in case.” 

“Fair call.”

Not long after that, the curry was served and most of the Pokemon had been settled down by the offer of some food. Hop and Gloria sat close together by the fire that Flareon and Hop’s Cinderace were keeping an eye on, and chatted idly about this and that, all sorts of things that they’d missed in each other’s lives since the last time they were able to meet up, or even have a long conversation on the phone. 

There were neverending topics to cover. Hop being able to do research on some of his own projects now, Gloria’s latest exhibition matches, silly things they’d caught their Pokemon doing...it always felt as though they’d never missed a beat when they saw each other, like no matter where they left off they could always pick it right back up again.

“You know,” Hop said after a while, once they’d both truly lost track of time and could only guess that it was some time in the middle of the night by now. Gloria was leaning against his shoulder, with his arm casually draped around her in return as they both lay up against their Dubwools. “I really wish we got to do this more. I mean I know we’re both really busy and all now, but…” He sheepishly glanced away, “I dunno. I just miss you, mate. A lot.”

Gloria gave a gentle smile and leaned into Hop a little more. “I know the feeling. Seems like we went from seeing each other every day when we were growin’ up, to once or twice a week during our Gym Challenge, to now...what, once a month if we’re lucky? It’s stupid, I just wanna see my best friend all the time.” She sighed.

How long would it be after this time that they’d be able to spend an extended period of time together like this again? Sure, Gloria had tomorrow as well, but after that she had to head to Kalos for Arceus knew how long for all manner of exhibition matches and photoshoots and advertising campaigns. It was unfair how little time she got to spend at home anymore, she still didn’t know how Leon managed to do it for ten years straight, and from an even younger age than her, for that matter! 

Hop’s next quiet comment cut her out of her spiralling thoughts. She could’ve sworn there was a slight blush tingeing his cheeks, but it could’ve just been the firelight. “Best friend, huh?”

She quirked up a brow in surprise and sat up slightly. “Aye? Always have been, always will be, you know that. Is...something wrong?” Surely this wasn’t going where her lovestruck teenage brain was hoping it would. There was no way Hop liked her like that as well. Piers could not be right about this whole thing.

The boy in question kept his gaze trained on his lap, but Gloria felt his fingers tapping a nervous pattern on her shoulder, where he still had his arm around her. “I, um.” Hop started, rather eloquently, “I...like you. As in, like like you. And I think I have for a really long time but I just never wanted to say anything because I figured you wouldn’t like me back since we were always just best friends, but...sorry. You don’t have to like me back, I just wanted to let you know. Just in case, I guess. I’m sorry. Shouldn’t have opened my big mouth.”

Gloria could’ve sworn her heart stopped in that moment. She felt like she was acting on autopilot when she reached over to grab Hop’s free hand, only hesitating for a fraction of a second before pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek as well. His skin was soft and warm under her lips, and she felt so giddy as she drew back to look at Hop’s adorably surprised expression, his wide golden eyes and slightly parted lips. An irrational part of her mind wanted to lean in and kiss him properly, but now certainly wasn’t the right time for that.

“Of course I like you back, Hopscotch. Honestly cannae believe you didn’t notice how unsubtle Piers was being about teasin’ me literally every single opportunity he got, he’s an idiot.” Gloria laughed, giving his hand a squeeze as he seemed to still be processing what had just happened.

Hop managed to sputter out a laugh of his own a second later, pulling Gloria closer to his side and planting a little kiss of his own to her head. “Are you kidding me? I thought Piers was teasing me about it constantly. I had a three AM crisis to him months ago about it, I can’t believe it.”

Gloria snorted in her laughter, causing a few of their nearby Pokemon to look at her with concern. “I did the exact same thing. Arceus above, I really thought he was havin’ a laff when he said you were messaging him about me!”

“Serious? With the way he said it I was sure he was kidding when he said you were doing the same thing as me! Maybe he was right, we really are dumb.”

Somehow they ended up in a bit of a tangle as they laughed, unapologetically clinging to each other now that they were both apparently on the same page with what it all meant. Maybe nothing had really changed that much with their admissions at all, maybe - much to both of their dismay - Piers had been right, and they’d just been subconsciously waiting for someone to say something this whole time. 

Either way, once they had finally composed themselves enough to focus, Gloria leaned in to press her cheek up against Hop’s. “So...Hop, my dearest best friend and favourite rival.” She teased, “You wanna...be my boyfriend as well?”

Hop grinned, his eyes crinkling up with glee. “Gloria, mate, my number one and favourite champ, obviously yes.”

Gloria beamed. “Great. Brilliant.” She whispered giddily.

The following morning, a photo of the two of them in close quarters surrounded by several of their Pokemon was sent to the group chat, accompanied by a short message.

Hippity Hop [7:48AM] :

sorry we disappeared last night lads, spontaneous camping trip! also we’re dating now. have a great day :)

Eat Sand [7:49AM] :

wait...you weren’t already dating???

bloody hell my life is a lie

leon why’ve you been lying to me

Champion Time Snr [7:53AM] :

this is news to me mate i thought they’d been dating since they started the gym challenge

Croon Toondra [7:54AM] :

WHAT?!?

....you’re havin a laff right

Eat Sand [7:54AM] :

no lee really said he thought hop was your boyf

Croon Toondra [7:55AM] :

canny believe ye lee

thought we were friends

Champion Time Snr [7:55AM] :

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Mermaid [7:58AM] :

honestly i agree w/ the boys i thought you were bf + gf for ages

sonia said you were

she can’t defend herself rn she’s still passed out hungover so

Big Tiddy Goth GF [8:00AM] :

bout time innit

felt like reality tv at this point

congrats tho took you ages

Flame Dad(dy) [8:03AM] :

Congratulations, although I have to say I was also under the impression you had been together since the Gym Challenge.

Wooloolooloo [8:04AM] :

Same here! You two are right cute though so congrats :)

Kung Fu Fighting [8:07AM] :

yeah rai told most of us that lee told him ages ago so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ good job anyway you cute

Rocky Horror [8:10AM] :

think we can all just agree someone was wrong and we’ll leave it there

that someone was lee but we’ll ignore that

reckon he’s just tryin to get us off his back about him and rai ;)

Champion Time Snr [8:11AM] :

thanks everyone appreciate it

also gordie please shut up

Hippity Hop [8:12AM] :

I forgive you lee!

at least for the sake of this group chat >:)

Big Tiddy Goth GF [8:14AM] :

get him hop it’ll be funny

lee watch out bruv

also you’re literally as bad as the kids with your feelings it’s disgusting

Baby Goth [8:15AM] :

Ignoring piers i’m happy for you two :D

Also thought it was a thing but that’s coz it just seemed like you were

No one actual said anythin to me

Croon Toondra [8:17AM] :

love ye all but i’m also fookin over ye dkjafhf

lee just go sulk and cuddle your boyf

Eat Sand [8:18AM] :

who’s lee’s boyf???? >:(

oh wait i see

fml

[nosferatyou]

New Tune: Chapter 4 (Jake Kiszka x Reader)

WC: 3.9k

Warnings: Cursing, Alcohol, Moshpits, Rock and Roll, and general dumbassery.

Summary: Two guitarists meet at a Rock Festival, only having a week with each other before they have to return to their own lives. The bond they create is unfeigned and resolute.

I stir awake, in an incredibly uncomfortable position on the.. Couch? A blanket that I definitely don't remember getting was laying on top of me. I look up at the clock to see that it was 1 PM, and let out a groan. I move the blanket off of myself and trudge to the bathroom. I look in the mirror to see what I can only describe as a gremlin. My hair was a rats nest, my makeup had smudged off onto my face, and my clothes were untucked and wrinkled. The weirdest part was the sticky note posted to my forehead. I grabbed it off and scrawled onto it said

 “Y/N, Left to go get coffee even though it's practically the afternoon. Anyways will be back soon. -Jake.

 PS I would've moved you into a better position, but I didn't want to wake you.”

Shit, he’s going to be here any minute, and I look like straight up trash. Going for a different look, I grab a very cut up Black Sabbath shirt (with a plunging neckline), simple high-waisted black shorts, fishnet tights, and finally my docs. I quickly combed out my hair, and applied some darker makeup. By the time I was done I heard a knock at the door, I opened it to reveal a sweaty Jake with two coffees in his hand.

“Ah so you finally woke up?”

“Oh hush it, get in here I need coffee.”

He walks on and hands me the cup before splaying himself out on the couch.

“So what's the plan today.” He asked.

A smile grew on my face, I already had plans for tonight, but now I'm definitely dragging him along.

“Okay so.” I grabbed a seat next to him, practically buzzing with excitement. “Did you see the headliner tonight?” 

“I honestly wasn’t paying attention.” He took another sip of his coffee, still relaxed on the couch.

“Well.. I already planned on doing this since we got here, but this may be a little out of your comfort zone. I don’t know how wild you get.” 

He sat up a little bit, interest peaked.

“And I don't know if the band will be up your alley, but…. Anthrax is playing tonight and they put on some of the most fun shows I’ve ever been to. Anyways I honestly live to be in the pit and was gonna sneak in and have some fun.”

He really doesn’t strike me as the mosh type, but definitely the partying type, so this is all really a gamble.

“You know what, fuck it. The boys and I never went to heavier shows, so I've never moshed, but this place seems as good as any to do it. You also seem like a good mosh pit spiritual guide.”

An even bigger smile grew to my face, and I hopped up off the couch.

“The show starts at 7, that gives us like 5-6 hours of pregame and prep. Up you go, we have work to do.”

I grab his arm and try to pull him off the couch. He just laughs and goes along with it.

“Take me to your bus.”

“Not that im complaining but why?”

“That outfit is completely unacceptable.”

He looked down at himself and then back up to me.

“Wait what, why?”

“Well first off you’re wearing the same clothes as yesterday, and your toes are definitely gonna get squished in those flimsy boots.”

“Hey! They aren’t flim-”

I grabbed his hand again and dragged him off the bus.

“Lets go, Rockstar. Lots of work to do.” 

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He suddenly stopped me before entering the bus, putting a hand on my shoulder.

“I’m going to be frank with you. They are weird as fuck, especially Sam and Josh, but seriously, watch out for Sam. He’s especially weird.”

I laugh and mimic his hand on my shoulder with my own on his. 

“This’ll be fun then, I'm sure we will get on just fine. “

“Alright, Y/N. Just wanted to let you know ahead of time.”

“Whatever you say, Rockstar.”

I open the door and waltz up the stairs to see an odd scene to say the least. Josh, who I had met nights before, was sitting on the couch playing guitar. It seemed like his first time, but two tall boys were standing over him. One yelling at josh, and very aggressively might I add, trying to fix his positioning. The other was trying to calmly explain it to him, the two boys both breaking their instructions with bickering between the two of them.

“Josh, darling, just use your thumb to steady your hand on the neck. Barre chords are 100% easier that way.”

The two taller boys whipped their attention over to me, but Josh just tried what I suggested instead. He produced a much clearer sound and gleefully yelled because of it, then looked up to me.

“Y/N! Thank you, darling. These two imbeciles couldn't pick a way to teach, and it was nothing but confusion.”

Shortly after Jake clomped up the stairs, taking a place next to me. Josh quickly ran over to his twin to seemingly go in for a hug, instead all Jake got was a hefty punch in the arm.

“You bastard, where have you been?”

Jake rubbed his arm and said “Well we went out for a little smoke sesh and then fell asleep on her bus by accident. Sorry man.”

Josh raised his eyebrows in surprise then said, “Ohhh, well that's all you had to say, little brother. We get it.”

“Don’t be gross, Josh. There is a lady here. Plus I’m only five minutes younger, we've been over this.”

I suddenly burst in.

“By all means, Josh. Be gross. I could barely be described as a lady.”

“She already loves me, Jakey.”

He just let out a sigh and said “Don't forget about the others. This is Sam, the actual little brother” 

Sam stuck out his hand and gave me a firm handshake. “I feel like this friendship between us will stick.”

“Very bold, Sam. I completely agree.”

Jake continued. “And this is Danny, not blood related, but is basically family.”

He also went in for a handshake, this one a bit softer.

“Pleasure to meet you, Y/N.”

“Pleasures all mine.”

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The boys and I instantly hit it off the bat, maybe it's my chaotic personality, or maybe it's theirs. Either way they grew very comfortable around me quickly, and so did I. Jake was a bit more laid back, he mostly just watched us all interact with a smile on his face. It was oddly endearing. 

By that point it was Six and they helped us pregame for the night ahead. Many beers and a couple shots in, and Josh and I were in a heated game of the floor is lava. Well we were but that was until Sam grabbed the chair out from underneath me, causing me to fall onto the couch. Which poor Jake happened to be sitting on, so I partially crushed him, but we were all so tipsy that both of us didn't care. I was too comfortable to move, forgetting about the game.

“Danny, my love. What's the time?”

He checked his watch and said “About 6:30”

I sat up from my reclined position on Jake’s lap and yelled “Shit!”

I quickly got up and yanked Jake up a well, causing him to spill some of his beer.

“We gotta get you better shoes or else your toes are gonna be crushed.”

He laughed and started to push me to the back of the bus. “Well we can't have that can we?”

He led me to a tiny closet near the bunks where he stored his clothing. His shoes were also haphazardly stuffed in there as well.

“Damn this is how you live?”

“Is it not the same for you?”

“You got me there, Rockstar.”

  I looked through all of them, stopping on a bright red pair for a moment because they were just so damn fun. But tucked away were some older and heftier leather boots. I grabbed them and stuffed them into his hands. 

“Did you bring any normal shirts? Cause button ups won't do, man. Gotta have room to move.”

“Yeah I think I have an old Zeppelin shirt back there somewhere.” He said motioning back towards the closet. 

I found it and threw it over to him. I turned around to face him staring at me with an indistinguishable look on his face.

“What are you waiting on? I'm not gonna help you, go get dressed and lets go.”

“Aw what a shame.” He teased.

He dumped his stuff into his bunk before unbuttoning his shirt and taking it off. My eyes slightly widened, and heat rose to my face. I coughed and pulled out my phone as a distraction. A multitude of texts from Sam, my boyfriend, as usual. I ignored them and simply stared at my homepage, just trying to direct my attention from the very tanned shirtless man in front of me. 

He tapped my shoulder, pulling me out of my haze.

“Ready to go, little bird?”

“Ready, Rockstar.”

We said our quick goodbyes to the boys before heading off. Josh quickly called out behind us, “Don’t lose an ear!”

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

In our drunken state we tried and failed, many times, to hop the fence to the venue. The pit was much harder than expected to get to. Jake tried to lift me over, I tried to lift him over, all ended with one of us almost crushing the other. We were hot, sweaty, and about to miss our chance to join in the fun. Well that was until Jake thought of a different plan of action.

“Y/N!”

I had my hands joined together to grab his foot and lift him up the metal slats, I about dropped him when he yelled my name. Putting all my strength into lifting him, concentrating on a response was hard but I choked out,

“Jesus, Jake. Don’t do that or I’ll drop you again. What is it?”

He scrambled out of my grasp and almost took me down with him.

“I have the best idea I’ve ever thought of.”

“I doubt th-”

He cut me off and grasped my shoulders, shaking me as he spoke.

“We can just jump into the pit!”

I swatted his hands off of me and said

“We’ve been trying that for 20 minutes, dumbass.”

“No!” 

He grabbed my hand and practically dragged me toward backstage.

“We are artists, we just go to the wings backstage, sneak onto the stage real fast, jump off into the pit, then join in!”

“Oh my god that is the best idea you've ever had!”

“I know!”

At this point we were in a full on sprint towards the venue, people were giving some strange stares, but we were way too drunk to notice nor care.

We finally reached the inside, laughing as we ran through, navigating through crew members and roadies. When we reached the edge of the wings we stopped for a moment to catch our breath, we both looked at each other for a moment. A look of excitement and adrenaline crossed his face, and i'm sure mine as well.

“Ready, Rockstar?” I asked.

“Let’s go, motherfucker!”

We both ran onto the stage, jumping off the ledge into the space between the barrier and stage. The people at the barrier very quickly noticed us, all very confused by our actions.

“Help me over!” I yelled to them, holding out my hands.

A couple of men grabbed me and lifted me over, I quickly thanked them and looked back over to Jake, still inbetween.

“What are you doing? Get over here!”

He laughed and lifted himself over, pushed close next to me.

“This is quite tight!” He yelled.

“What’d you expect?”

He just shrugged his shoulders and leaned onto the barrier. 

“Oh no, Rockstar. This isn’t where we will be.”

He gave me a puzzled look, and I simply responded by grabbing his hand and dragged him away from our spot. I took us deeper into the pit, more and more to the middle. Both of us tightly pressed up against each other. The band wasn’t on stage yet, but the crowd was buzzing with excitement.

“You nervous?”

He looked excited, very drunk, but obviously a bit hesitant about it all.

“A bit. I have a feeling the moment it starts i'll fit right in.”

“Good! It'll be-”

The crowd erupted into cheers and we both looked up to see the band entering the stage. I looked back over to Jake, who’s nervous demeanor had increased substantially. I grabbed his hand, and he looked over to me. He squeezed my hand in response, a smile appearing on his face.

“Don’t let go until you feel ready.. Or if we literally get torn apart.” I yelled to him, barely audible. 

“Oh jesus.”

Jakes POV

For the first couple of songs the crowd stood still, well not still, but what I assume is still for this crowd.  The music was loud, really loud, and gritty, but the lead guitarist was damn good. Had a clean tone for the genre. It definitely wasn't my crowd, that's for sure, it was a lot of very tall men in tank tops, all older than you'd expect. Y/N definitely stuck out in the crowd. Though she was very much in her element, Dancing with the others, getting a bit rowdier than the rest actually. She knew how to hold her ground in a group like this no doubt about. The music definitely not what I ever ventured into, but I definitely could appreciate it. The band was having fun on stage and messing around, something i'm definitely no stranger to.

 Then the band introduced the song “Indians” and all hell broke loose. Y/N’s grip tightened on my hand.

“Get Ready!” She yelled.

The guitars harmonized with a simplistic riff, no other instruments joining in, but boy when they did, the fun began. People around me started to basically push and shove me, basically just running their bodies into me. Jumping into each other and me, Y/N jumped into me at one point. It was tamer than expected, Y/N Joined them as well, pushing into me and jumping into others. It was definitely something I could have handled, I don't know why she hyped it up so much. Everyone took a mutually agreed upon break during the chorus and second verse. Still pushing but just keeping to their spots. Y/N had a huge smile on her face, and looked over to me, her hair wild and her face flushed. 

She leaned over to me and tried to yell, “Get ready!”

“Get Ready? Wasn’t that the mosh?”

She threw her head back and laughed before returning to her space. The singer screamed “War Dance!” and the crowd lost it. They were jumping into everyone basically using shoulders and elbows to bounce off of each other.  I felt my arm jerk and I looked over to Y/N, and everyone in front of her was.. Running? She tightened her grip and started running with them, and in town, I was dragged along. They all were basically running in a circle in dancing, screaming the lyrics to the song. When we got into a groove something in me grooved with it and I lost every nervous feeling in body. I let go of her hand and ran next to her, jumping into her at some points. She threw her head back with laughter and reciprocated by almost pushing me over. At some point we stopped running, but we slammed and jumped into each other until the song was over. And by that point I was so out of breath it burned.

“Holy shit.” I breathed out.

As the show went on the more into it I got and the more wild Y/N got. Alcohol still very present in our systems, along with adrenaline. Y/N screamed the lyrics with everyone and danced all night, causing a ruckus with the neighboring people, and of course I joined in.

She suddenly clamped her hand on my shoulder in the middle of the song “Antisocial”, surprising me.

“Jake! I have my phone on me, but if I don't make it out, we meet where we jumped in!”

“Don't make it back?” I yelled in confusion.

“Don’t worry ill be right back!”

She leaned over to the taller guys next to us and did her best to talk to them. They both high fived her and she grabbed onto their shoulders. They grabbed her legs and lifted her, passing her forward. The people in front of us very quickly took notice and passed her along. She was having the time of her life, yelling and milking her performance. I would be lying if I didn't say she was cool as fuck, and that I didn't envy her lust for life.

The guy next to tapped my shoulder and yelled “Dude your girlfriend is dope as hell!”

I simply responded “Don't I know it.”

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Y/N’s POV 

Eventually I did make my way back to Jake, it just took me awhile to push through, and not get distracted by the crowd, as nice as it was to get recognized, I was worried he got swept away.

I found him attempting to headbang with the guys who helped me crowd surf, it was honestly cute to watch. 

“I lived, Bitch!”

He stopped and locked eyes with me, the already huge smile on his face grew bigger, 

“I don't want this to end!” He yelled, grabbing me and sweeping me back into my old spot.

“Well I’m sad to inform you we probably have one more song left, Rockstar.”

He gave me an over exaggerated frown and threw his arm around my shoulder and said 

“Well I guess that means we have to make it count!”

“I guess it does!”

The crowd gave too much energy in too early on and tried to  put everything into the last song, but it didn't compare to earlier. All of our bodies heavy, our breath hard, and sweat was everywhere. Compared to earlier, Jake now looked like a pro. Pushing everyone around him, keeping his balance, a huge smile stuck on his face. Near the end of the song I was completely exhausted and my balance is getting harder and harder to keep. They guy next to me just about pushed me over, except Jakes torso kept me from getting very far. He quickly caught me and wrapped his arms around me looking down at me, stopping for a brief moment. I looked up and our eyes met, our faces were closer than expected, our noses practically touching. The both of us not attempting to move away. Heat rose to my cheeks and I held my breath, unable to move. The relentlessness crowd was ever moving though, and the guy in front of us knocked the two of us into the men behind us, moving us from our position. 

“Well that was close, you almost took me down there.” He laughed, relieving the tension.

“You wish, Rockstar.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The walk back to my trailer was silent, it wasn’t a bad silence, just contempt. We both just felt oddly comfortable around each other, and could just live in the moment, not having to force conversation. Comfortable silence is rare, and you've met someone truly special if that can be achieved. Even though it was last night i'm still confused as to how he got me to open up. I make it seem like i’m open with people, joke about my insecurities so they can’t hold them against me. Rarely does anyone ever see past that. I haven't even gotten the chance to throw those jokes around, I haven’t felt like I needed to around him. I've known him all of three days and he makes me feel something. I don't know what it is, its past romantic or platonic, I guess I just feel some sort of kin to him. That scares me. 

We were in no rush, taking as much time as we wanted on the walk back. The both of us occasionally just staring at the sky. Crickets and a seldom guitar could be heard, bouncing from bus to bus. A different tune from each player, and even if it was 11, they all seemed to be saying goodnight. 

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Jake glancing at me every so often. When I turned my head to look at him he just stopped trying to hide it. A small smile played at his lips and the stars almost reflected in his eyes. He seemed at peace. Still, I could see that he had a question he wanted to ask playing through his mind. 

“What's on your mind, Rockstar?” I asked.

He seemed taken aback that i’d noticed.

“Oh uh, I was just thinking of asking if maybe you'd like to join me and the boys during practice tomorrow? I mean we played last night, but I what to see what you can really do.” He paused for a moment, a smirk appearing on his face. “Plus I can finally Woo you with my guitar playing. Gets all the ladies.” He finished off his sentence by very animatedly wiggling his eyebrows.

“You wish, I've been playing since I was three, bet you I can do everything you can, and then some.” 

“You're on, little bird. You don't know what you're getting yourself into. Lets just say i’ve been playing for a little while.”

“You don't even know what you're getting yourself into.” I mimicked the smirk he gave me and said “Gets me all the ladies.”

He cocked an eyebrow in confusion “ You're taken.”

“Well when I wasn't… Let's just say I never had a shortage of fun.”

“Ooh look at you go.”

I just simply laughed and threw an arm around his shoulder, both of us returning back to our silence. My bus seemed to have snuck up on us because suddenly we were standing at the door. I reached for the door handle, stepping away from him.

“Wait.” He said suddenly, grabbing my hand.

I turned to him seeing that same expression as before, he had something to say.

He hesitated for a moment, his eyes searching for something in mine. I almost waited for him to step closer to me. He didn’t.

“No goodnight for me then?”

I stepped closer and left a lingering kiss on his cheek. He froze for a moment before relaxing under my touch.

I leaned in and whispered “Goodnight, Rockstar.” in his ear.

I moved away turning away for him to reach for the door again, opening it as quietly as I could. His hand slipped out of mine and I stepped onto the bus, but before I closed the door I turned around one more time. His eyes softened when they met mine, and a smile played on his lips.

“Goodnight, Little Bird.” He said softly, before turning around and walking away, humming a familiar tune.

Chapter 5

[1dffexchange]

Uncomfortable Silences

To: Vicki @angstarella​

From: Liv @midnightcities​

Summary: It’s been 927 days since Rowie messily ended her two year relationship with Harry. 659 days since Harry Styles bared his soul and shared it for the world to hear in the form of a best-selling debut album. 173 days since his number had flashed across the screen of her phone. But finally, Rowie was starting to feel her sense of normalcy return.

It was any other Saturday morning. A half eaten piece of Marmite toast lay forgotten on the kitchen counter along with the dregs of my morning coffee. There was a haphazard pile of trousers at the foot of my bed that I had created when searching for my favourite black pair. My 10 minute snooze turned into almost 25 minutes and I was now on a time crunch to pull myself together for my Saturday shift. Despite promising myself that I would go to bed at an acceptable hour last night, I fell prey to my best friend’s masterful coercing and stayed out far longer than I originally intended. You think by now I would know better.

I was in my bathroom, scraping my hair back into a bun, when I heard the buzz of my phone. Jules, the aforementioned best friend I’m sure, checking in to either complain about her killer headache or to help fill in her hazy memory. This had become a bit of a ritual for us.

One last glance in the mirror and I deemed myself suitable enough to face the horde of Saturday shoppers. I flicked the bathroom light off and grabbed my phone that I had earlier tossed onto my unmade bed. The phone screen lit up as I brought it to eye level. I immediately dropped the phone back onto the bed when I saw the notification:

+44 7106 555555 iMessage

I had finally deleted that number almost a year ago; that’s the best way to move on according to all the break-up articles and books I have pored over the past 2 and a bit years. They don’t tell you how to delete a number from your memory though. I haven’t seen it grace my phone screen in quite some time, the longest stint yet actually. And still, it made my heart stutter erratically and my palms clammy.

What does he want now? Has something happened? Work. I haven’t seen much of him online lately. Who was that last girl he was linked to again? Work. Is this going to be some half-assed, drunk apology again? I need to go to work.

I broke myself out of my impending trainwreck of thoughts, forcing myself to throw all my effort into moving my body. I snatched up my bag and grabbed my phone once again. My eyes squeezed shut, not wanting to see that damn number as I shoved it to the depths of my bag. Out of sight out of mind, right?

****

Waterstones was a staple part of my childhood London visits, so landing a job here in my first year of studying was a dream. I was lucky enough to take up residence at the Gower Street store. It always was my favourite, with its twisting shelves and hidden nooks, and it’s a bonus that it’s only a 5 minute walk from main campus for those days when I have class. As a child I always thought this would be the perfect place to play a game of hide-and-seek. And on days like today where I would rather do anything than enthusiastically suggest a middle-aged woman some egregious romance novel, the labyrinth nature of the store was appreciated.

I was tucked away on the third floor, shelving some second-hand Philosophy books. I studied each title intently, skimmed each books synopsis, and threw all my mental energy into deciphering what the philosophical knowledge each book was actually trying to impart. The upper levels of the store are the perfect study sanctuary; I have spent many hours holed up in here writing last minute essays. But today the comfortable silence was not good for my current mental state.

I had thrown my bag into the designated employee locker out the back, my phone remaining ignored in the depths. I’m sure I felt it vibrate again when I was on the tube but it stayed unopened and unchecked. I can’t do this again, I really can’t put myself through… that again.

“Um… Excuse me…” A quiet voice caught me off guard.

I turned, book still in hand, to see three girls standing awkwardly near the W-Z section of Social Sciences. They looked a little young to be browsing up here, but I reserved my judgements. “Yes, how may I help you today?” I flashed my customer service smile.

The girl in the middle opened her mouth before snapping it shut again. The one on the left nudged her, giving her a look of slight impatience. Odd.

“Are… are you…” She attempted again.

Now the one on the right shook her head and pushed herself forward. “Are you Rowena Porter?”

I felt my heart begin to stutter, my stomach clench. “Excuse me?”

“Rowie…” the girl in the middle whispered, “she likes to be called Rowie.”

“Whatever,” she shrugged, “are you Rowie Porter?”

“I’m sorry,” my cheeks felt hot and I could feel my hands starting to shake, “but I’m afraid I can’t help you with that.”

The girl on the right took a couple steps toward me, clearly she was the most confident of the three. “Harry Styles has been seen coming here a lot lately. And then I remembered reading on Twitter that you work here. Has he been visiting you? Are you back together?”

My breath hitched. Harry was here? When? Why? Was it to see me? Surely out of all the Waterstones in London he wouldn’t choose this one for his bookish needs. It can’t be a mere coincidence.

The three girls stared at me expectantly, as if I was about to really about to reveal some intimate, albeit non-existent, love-life details. I placed the book in my hand on the shelf adjacent to me and took a steading breath. “I’m sorry girls, but Rowena quit working here a while back. I’m afraid I can’t help you any more than that.”

“Oh, so you just happen to look like her?” The girl challenged.

“Coincidence.”

“But--”

“Look,” my tone had become considerably more clipped, “if you have any book related questions I am happy to help you out. Otherwise I need to continue on with my job.” I picked up the half-empty box of Philosophy books that still needed unpacking and headed down the aisle and away from the girls. I prayed that they weren’t following me. It took every ounce of my self-control to not completely blow up at them and tell them, in the nicest way possible, to sod off. But now I was throwing all my focus into not breaking down in the middle of the Greek and Roman Classics section.

I pounded down the three flights of stairs, determined to hold myself together to at least the back storage area. My head was swimming, like I had just thrown back five consecutive shots of Jäger, and my face prickling with sweat.

Just as I was about the push past the registers, my unstable hands got the better of me and I dropped the box, the books tumbling out. “Shit.” I scrambled onto my knees to pile the books back up but tears began to blur my vision and I could feel the stares of customers. Keep it together. Keep it together. Keep it together.

“Rowie, are you okay?”

A pair of hands shot out and began haphazardly throwing the books back into the box. The hands belonged to Will, one of my co-workers and probably one of the only people I considered an actual friend on staff. I sat back, letting him collect the last few books, and willed my hands to stop trembling and for my tears to not spill over. Will stood and lifted the box up and behind the counter before offering me his hand. I hoped he couldn’t feel the stickiness of perspiration on my palms. “Alright?”

I shook my head. “I need to go.”

His eyebrows furrowed in obvious concern. “Do you want me to call someone? You look shaken up… What happened?”

Again, I shook my head. “Who’s on today?”

“Mara.” One small win, she was the kindest of all the store managers. I’m sure she wouldn’t mind my early departure.

“Can you please just tell her I had a family emergency or something. I really need to get out of here.” I pushed past Will, past the registers, and burst through the back storage area doors.

“Is this because of Harry?” I hadn’t realised Will had followed me.

I whirled back around meeting his worried gaze. “What?”

“He was here... A few days ago.” He spoke cautiously, he could clearly tell I was on the verge of breaking. “He asked for you.”

“And you didn’t tell me?”

“Rowie, why would I? Look at the state of you right now, I wasn’t about to do that to you.”

I squeezed my eyes shut, counted to 10, and forced myself to take some calming breaths. Anything to stop the rising panic. “You did the right thing,” I spoke finally. I could see Will let out a small breath in relief. “I still need to deal with this though, please tell Mara for me.”

“Row--”

“No,” I cut him off before he could go on his usual tirade of why my ex is not worth my time, something that I normally do appreciate. “Just… Let me deal with this. I’ll talk to you later.”

Will pursed his lips, I could tell that he was struggling to keep his opinions quiet. He merely turned and walked back out to the store front. I knew he wasn’t happy, but that was something I needed to push aside for now.

I turned and made my way to the staff locker and retrieved my bag. Time to face the music. I grabbed my phone. The screen lit as I brought it to view. Four messages. All from that same number. My thumb hovered over the notification, my stomach churning at the thought of what could be contained in those four messages. I unlocked my phone.

+44 7106 555555

(7:42 am): Rowie, I know you don’t want to hear from me but can you please give me a call. Harry.

(8:09 am): Please Row

(8:47 am): im desperate

(8:48 am): i need you.

I stared at the four little blue bubbles, unable to process them. A weird sense of calm had blanketed me. My previously hammering heart had slowed, my hands were still, my breath even. Almost robotically, I dropped my phone back into my bag and made a beeline straight out of Waterstones and into the chaos of Gower Street.

im desperate. i need you. im desperate. i need you. im desperate. i need you. im desperate. i need you.

The words flashed over and over in my mind with my every footfall. My thoughts wandered to every possible scenario as to what he could need. A jostle from a stranger awoke me from my abstraction and I realised I was already on the Euston Square platform. A train had just pulled up, my train I confirmed when I glanced over at the schedule. I quickly slipped on just as the doors closed and found a free seat. I sat rigidly, the sway of the carriage slowly pulling me back into my spiralling thoughts.

****

It felt like time was moving funny. My usual 25 minute journey felt like it was over in less than 5. The encounter with those girls this morning felt like it happened hours ago when it has barely been over an hour. That weird sense of calm I felt earlier was ebbing away and I could feel the panic begin to nestle it’s way back in. And the crowded train platform wasn’t helping me to keep my impending panic attack at bay. I needed a voice of reason, someone to help guide me through. I needed Jules.

I moved with the commuters but reached into my bag for my phone, praying she would be awake. Just as I unlocked my phone though, it began vibrating. Jules’ name appeared on the screen; what are the chances. I answered immediately.

“Oh, Rowie. Thank god,” Jules’ breathless voice greeted me, “I thought you wouldn’t pick up because of work.”

“Yeah, I was there but I left. I was just about to ring you actually. Is everything alright with you?” I tapped my Oyster card against the scanner, keen to get away from the claustrophobic nature of the London Underground.

“Wait, where are you now?”

“Just got off the tube, heading home. There was… An incident at work.” I finally stepped out on the street, the fresh air felt good.

“Home?! Oh god. Listen Rowie, I’m so sorry but I didn’t know what to do.”

Jules sounded truly panicked now, enough for me to stop my brisk walking pace and throw all my attention into the call. “What do you mean you didn’t know what to do? What is going on?”

“It’s-- It’s Harry.”

My stomach dropped, for the umpteenth time today. “Is he okay?”

“I don’t know! He rang me, I don’t even know how he has my number. He was asking for you, but he didn’t sound right. He had been to your flat, your old one though, didn’t even know you had moved.” Of course he doesn’t, he wouldn’t know anything that has happened to me in the past two years. “I wasn’t sure if it was an emergency, I didn’t know how to help.”

“It’s okay, you did the right thing by talking to him.”

“No, Rowie I-- Oh, I told him where you live now. Row, I think he’s waiting for you there.”

****

The last time I counted, it had been 643 days since I had seen Harry in person. That’s just over two years. And it has essentially taken me up until now to feel that sense of normalcy return which I craved back when I first ended our relationship. But seeing him sat on my flat’s front step, even from a distance, made me realise that no amount of time is going to stop that visceral, all-consuming feeling he has always given me.

He was hunched over, a beanie pulled down tight over his curls. It wasn’t even cold out yet, but I assume he’s wearing it to stay somewhat hidden. He fiddled with his phone and then tucked it away, tugged at the sleeves of the black sweater he was wearing, clasped and unclasped his hands. I could tell he was nervous. And judging from the twitches of my hands, so was I.

I crossed the street and approached him cautiously. He was so consumed with his thoughts he didn’t even hear me approach. I cleared my throat, crossing my arms in a way to steel myself.

Harry’s head jerked up, recognition immediately flooding his muted green eyes. “Rowie…” He stood. I forgot how tall he was.

“Hello, Harry.” I spoke quietly. I was surprised my tone hid my tumbling emotions so well.

“It’s…” he exhaled, “it’s so good to see you.”

I rolled my lips and nodded slowly, unsure of what to say.

“Can I come up?”

No, no, no, no. My flat was one of my only Harry-free zones. No memories were attached. Everything had been removed that reminded me of him. Seeing him up there now would bring up a slew of problems. “I don’t think that would be best,” I spoke carefully. I was still trying to gauge where he was at mentally right now; he seemed off.

“You know I wouldn’t normally insist but I think it would be best. If someone spots me here you’re gonna be dealing with… Well you know the routine.”

He was right. And especially after what happened this morning, the last thing I need is more obsessive fans waiting outside my flat. “Fair enough.”

I unfolded my arms and grabbed my keys from my bag. Harry followed me up the few steps and watched as I unlocked the door. My hands visibly shook as I twisted the key. I know he noticed but he said nothing. In silence, we walked up the four flights of stairs and down the hall to flat 408. I let us in, promptly locking the door behind us.

My current flat was quite different from the one Harry had known. Paying my way through a Masters degree and some other unexpected financial problems at home had forced me to downsize, coupled with the fact that I was desperate to leave those walls which were filled to the brim with memories of us.

I watched as Harry’s eyes scanned the space - the cramped kitchen with the leaky tap, the speckled counter that doubled as a dining table, the IKEA sofa I had picked up on sale last winter. I knew my living space was a stark contrast to what Harry was likely used to and I couldn’t take his scrutinising gaze any longer. I knew my somewhat cool exterior was beginning to crack, the unwanted feelings of anxiety pushing to burst through and consume me. I needed some relief.

I left Harry standing awkwardly near the doorway and stepped into the kitchen. Dumping my bag on the counter, I began searching through the drawers for what I knew I needed. I was beginning to feel light-headed again, my whole body falling prey to the shakes. Tucked snuggly next to a half-used pack of Panadol and some Strepsils was the bottle I was searching for. The safety cap proved too difficult for my unsteady fingers though. I let out a small groan of frustration.

“You need a hand?” Harry carefully took the bottle from my hands, expertly twisting the top off. He handed it back, but not before peeking at the label, something I wish he didn’t do. “Alprazolam? Isn’t that--”

“Xanax, yes.” I tossed back two pills dry, desperate for their calming effect.

“Oh. Uh, you should be careful with those. They can be addictive and--”

“Yes, I know that Harry,” I snapped. “Not that it’s any of your business but they’ve been prescribed and I only take them when the situation calls for it.”

My abrupt tone took Harry by surprise, judging from the way he shifted away from me. I could see he was chewing on the inside of his cheek, unsure of what to say. I felt a twinge of guilt at my unwarranted outburst.

“It helps with my panic attacks,” I said quietly after a few moments. “I haven’t had a full blown attack in a while though. I’m good at knowing the signs now. Shaky hands, erratic heart rate, feeling faint.”

He nodded slowly. “I didn’t know… How long have you been dealing with them?”

I sighed heavily. I knew Harry wasn’t going to like my answer. “I had my first one in 2015. They were at their worst in 2016 though. That’s when I got medical help.”

“2015… Wait…” I watched as Harry connected the dots. I moved out of the kitchen and towards the sofa, as if putting some distance between us would soften the blow of seeing his reaction. “That’s when we were together. You were having panic attacks and didn’t even tell me?!”

“They weren’t a big deal, I didn’t want to worry you.”

Harry ripped his beanie off and slammed it down on the kitchen counter. I jumped, both at the sound and Harry’s sudden, extreme mood change. “God, Rowie,” he spat bitterly, “I was your fucking boyfriend. I was supposed to worry about you. To help you!”

“It was almost 4 years ago Harry—“

“So?!” He cut me off. “I had some right to know what you were dealing with!”

I could feel my face heating up, not due to panic but because of anger this time. “What I was dealing with? What I was dealing with? You wouldn’t have been able to understand Harry.”

“Try me.”

“You were born for this life Harry, an entertainer at heart able to bounce through life without worrying about what millions of people around the world think of you. But not me. Seeing my name, my personal life, splashed across social media and in news articles. People commenting about me, online and in person. People saying I don’t deserve you. I couldn’t handle it anymore.”

Harry’s hands were clenched on the counter, frustration radiating off him. “For two years I have sat and analysed every facet of our relationship, wandering what I did wrong. Repeated that day you ended everything over and over. I wrote a whole fucking album for you.”

“I didn’t ask you to,” I interjected harshly.

“And if you had just told me these things at the time I could’ve helped you through it. Together, like a couple is supposed to!”

I shook my head. “I did what had to be done. It was the right thing for us. And for you.”

“No, it wasn’t. You broke my heart, Rowena.” His voice broke and I felt the sting of tears in my eyes. I was rendered speechless. My full name hung in the air between us, an uncomfortable silence smothering the room. It seems silly to be caught off guard by my own name, but I’ve never heard him say it. I’ve always been Rowie, his Rowie.

As we both stood there, kitchen counter separating us, staring but remaining unmoving, I felt as though I was truly seeing Harry for the first time today. With the beanie off I could see his hair looked unusually unkempt, his curls limp as though they needed a good wash. His skin had broken out, which I knew only happened when he was stressed, and the dark circles under his eyes confirmed that suspicion. His hands which were always adorned with an assortment of rings were bare. Even his clothes looked disheveled. This wasn’t the Harry I knew standing before me.

“Harry…” I said softly, breaking the silence, “what’s really going on? Why did you need to see me?”

I watched as he hunched over the counter, resting his head in his hands. His fingers twined into his hair, gripping at the root. As he ran his hands through the flat curls, he brought his gaze up to meet mine. His eyes had filled with tears and I felt that immediate pang in my heart.

Without inhibition, I joined Harry back in the kitchen and gathered him up in my arms, bringing his head down to the crook of my neck. As I stroked the nape of his neck, I felt his arms twist around my waist and pull me tight. I knew he wasn’t crying, but I could feel every ounce of emotion through his embrace. And suddenly I felt at peace, and not because of the meds. I hated that it felt so right to be here in this moment, that the one thing that could stabilise me was the thing I drove away years ago.

Harry loosened his grip and I took it as a sign to pull away slightly. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

I furrowed my brows in confusion. “For what? I’m the one who should be apologising for being shitty and leaving without a proper explanation.”

“I should’ve seen it, the struggles you were having. You’re right, this life can be hard. And it was silly of me to just assume that you were coping with it fine. You say that I don’t worry about what people think of me, I don’t. But that’s after years of me being so caught up in it. I had to learn to ignore and move past the crap.”

“I should have told you though…” I said softly.

He drew his hands away from my waist, instead clasping my own hands in his and bringing them up to his chin. I felt the softest graze of his lips as he stared down at me, my heart skittered ever so slightly. “I really miss you, Row. Everyday.”

I nodded, unsure if I could trust myself to string together a coherent sentence.

He sighed heavily, dropping my hands and taking a step back to lean against my oven. I immediately missed the contact. “In 47 days I’m supposed to be announcing my upcoming album. Which means I have about 42 days to get the tracks laid. The first instance of them anyways.” I watched as he rubbed his eyes with his thumb and index finger. “And I am so fucking lost.”

I still stood quietly, unsure of what I could really say. Words of encouragement from me right now would surely feel superficial to him.

“God, last time I struggled to cut down the track list. I had such a backlog of material, it was mental.”

I knew I had some role to play with that. Breaking up with someone just as they were about to embark on launching a solo career would result in an abundance of inspiration.

“And this time I have nothing…” he continued on. “Everything I write is utter shite, and the pressure from the label isn’t helping.”

“Push back the announcement then,” I finally spoke.

He laughed, without humor though. “If only it was that easy Rowie. You remember what it was like when I was in the band, the label asking for a new record every bloody year. That was considered feasible as there were five of us. Now according to them, going beyond a 2 year break between records is ‘not recommended’.”

I snorted, and Harry looked at me questioningly. “Seriously? That’s crap. How many artists have been MIA for years and still come back with another best-selling album. Harry, you’re underestimating your talents a little I think. This isn’t like your early years of One Direction where you guys had to pump out content in order to stay relevant. You’ve put in the hard yards and made your mark, you are here to stay.”

A flicker of a smile appeared on his lips. It gave me the confidence to continue on.

“You could literally release an album that consisted primarily of whale and dolphin calls and it would number one on release day.”

That got a laugh out of him. “Not sure if the label would like that though.”

I approached him slowly. “Well, I would love it. In fact, I’ve already got it pre-ordered on iTunes and saved on my Spotify.” I stood toe to toe with Harry, my fingers reaching out to the hem of his sweater. It was taking all of my self-restraint to not stretch up and trace his jawline, to comb back his hair with my fingers.

Instead, Harry seized the opportunity. Cautiously, he placed his hand to the side of my face. I melted into his touch. His lips parted ever so slightly before rolling them together, his telltale sign that he wanted to kiss me but was unsure.

“It’s okay,” I barely whispered out. I rolled up onto my toes, bringing my arms around his neck before pressing my lips against his. It felt as though no time had passed; we were in sync immediately, our mouths moving with familiarity. I raked my nails up through his hair and he mirrored by running his down my sides.

But as sudden as we had fallen back into routine, Harry pulled away. I couldn’t help a small sound of detest escape my mouth. “Shit,” he mumbled. He unlatched my arms from around his neck and pressed them back into my chest. “I shouldn’t… I know this isn’t what you want.” He sidestepped me and moved as far away from me as possible, which was only a few meters as that’s all my flat would allow.

“Who are you to say what I do and don’t want?” I challenged.

“You just told me the enormous toll our relationship had on you mentally. And I didn’t come here to try and win you back.”

I suddenly felt like I had been used. “So, what? You have no inspiration to write some songs so you come and see me, dredge up old problems, and then run off to the studio? Is that all I am to you now? A muse of emotional trauma?”

His eyes widened. “Jesus Rowie, of course not! I needed to see you because I knew you would be a voice of reason for me. Every person that I have spoken to about this album just doesn't get it. They’re all too… I don’t know. Too close to the project? They all just think I have a bit of writer’s block. My mum told me to clear my head by taking a walk in a bloody forest or something!”

I leant back, taking up the same position against my oven that Harry held minutes earlier. “How can my opinion even mean anything? I don’t know what’s gone on with you for the past 2 and a bit years.”

“And yet, I’ve felt more at ease here with you this past hour than I have for the past 6 months.”

“What, my 3 sentences of encouragement have instantly filled you with the creative juices you’ve been craving?”

“I wish,” Harry chuckled. “But your sense of assurance helps.”

I was about to respond when the buzz of a phone interrupted me. It sounded muffled, so I knew it was coming from my bag which lay forgotten at the end of the counter. It was most likely Jules, checking in to see if I’m alright.

“That’s probably a sign that I should go.” He collected his beanie that he had thrown down earlier and shoved it back on his head, paying no attention to the way it smushed some curls flat against his forehead. “Again, I’m sorry to barge in on you like this. I appreciate that you gave me the chance to talk though.” He jerked forward, unsure if we should hug goodbye or if he should just leave. I made the decision easier for him by crossing the kitchen and wrapping my arms around his waist. Pressing my ear to his chest I could hear the steady thump of his heart, a sound that I have fallen asleep to countless times. I felt Harry press his lips to the top of my head. This hug felt different, like a proper goodbye hug. Not ‘see you later’, but goodbye.

We pulled apart, locking eyes for one last time. “Good luck with everything,” I murmured.

“I’ll let you know when the Harry Styles featuring Whale and Dolphin album will be dropping.”

I let out a shaky laugh before moving around him to unlock the door. He stepped out, gave me one last smile, and turned to walk down the hall. I watched him walk until he disappeared from view, he didn’t turn back once.

That goodbye felt like it was the final closure we both needed, that now we could finally move on with our lives and be relatively happy. Maybe now I could hear and see his name and not feel a clench in my stomach. Or have those cluey fans find me and not dissolve into a puddle of panic.

But despite all these prospects, I knew it wasn’t the ending I wanted. Or the ending I really needed. My feet moved without warrant. I picked up speed, pounded down the stairs almost tripping over. I saw him, he had just stepped out of the building and down the steps. I burst through the door and he spun around, eyes wide with surprise.

“Stay.” I puffed out.

He blinked. Once, twice. “What?”

“I’m asking you to stay,” I descended the front steps and joined Harry on the footpath. “I just did the most cliché, rom-com thing and chased after you to ask you to stay. I mean, all that is missing right now is some rain and we would have the perfect scene.”

He laughed.

“Please, I’m serious.”

“Rowie, after what you said we can’t get back together. We--”

“After what I said we should be getting back together.”

Harry looked at me puzzled.

“I’m not going to be a prat now and try to shoulder all the pressure. I was stupid to not trust that you could help me in the first place. And I’ve gotten better at managing the anxiety.”

He was quiet for a while, staring down at me. I was desperate for something, even just a graze of his hand for reassurance. I was about to revoke the offer, feeling that maybe I had misread the situation, but he finally responded. “Are you sure? I don’t want you… I don’t want you to get hurt again.”

“So sure that I ran down four flights of stairs and almost broke a leg for you.”

We both grinned before Harry pulled me in for a kiss. It was short and sweet but felt like home all the same.

“Let’s go up.” I said once we had broken apart.

“Oh… Uh... Actually,” Harry stammered. Oh god, have I suddenly been to forward or something? “I really need to swing by the studio. My phone has basically been in airplane mode all day and I was supposed to be there for a session at 10 am. I’ve been off the grid without even telling anyone.” He bit his lip, obviously unsure of how I would react.

“Go,” I said with a smile. Sure, the timing was crappy but I knew he would be back.

“I’ll be back,” he said as though he had just read my mind. “I’ll bring dinner tonight. Some thai food? Panang curry with fried rice?”

I smiled. He remembered my order. “Don’t forget--”

“Extra green beans in the curry.” He placed his hand on my cheek, bending down slightly to press a kiss to my forehead. “I’ll see you soon.”

And with that, he turned and began walking up the street, his phone pressed to his ear. No doubt he was finally responding to some very concerned people on his whereabouts. I watched him until turned the corner at the end of the block. I continued to stand there on the footpath outside my flat feeling calm, finally feeling at peace.

It almost seemed silly that this morning Harry Styles was the catalyst for a tumultuous amount of negative emotion, and yet my Harry was the one that was able to calm the storm and ground me.

I suppose I should thank him for that. I’ll do it when he comes home.