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jungshookz · 1 year

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y/n doesn't know how to be petty & jealousy is not a good look on jimin

➺ pairing; park jimin x reader // balletteacher!jimin x ballerina!y/n

➺ genre; balletteacher!jiminiverse!! i think there’s a fairly good balance of honk honk humour and angst and fluff in here but i could be wrong!! seulgi (once again) is a pot-stirrer and you can either love her or hate her for it!! jungkook’s cute and is a really good dance partner!!

➺ wordcount; 12.1k

➺ summary; surprisingly enough, both y/n and jimin are great at acting unaffected by their devastating breakup — it’s only when they’re reunited two weeks later in class that their nonchalant, callous composures begins to crack.

➺ what to expect; “i just think the respectable move is to wait until we’re done learning, mr. park. or would you like to continue wasting everyone’s time by singling out jungkook and i just because you’re clearly in a sour mood for no reason and seem to be enjoying using us as your emotional punching bags?”

➺ currently playing on cee.fm; need you now — lady antebellum

»»————- 🥀 ————-««

the feeling of your phone buzzing rapidly against the mattress is the thing that rouses you from yet another restless night of sleep

you kept waking up every few hours and every time you woke up you’d be awake for at least another hour before dozing back off

you’re pretty sure you fell asleep close to six in the morning and according to the clock on your bed stand it’s already 1:30 but somehow you still feel so, so groggy despite getting seven and a bit hours of sleep

you peel an eye open reluctantly, staring at the bright vibrating rectangle for a few seconds before you drag your arm up lazily to grab it because something crazy must be happening if the group chat is chirping away like this

you’ve had your phone on do not disturb for the past week (except for the few times lisa clearly hit the ‘notify anyway’ button to get your attention) so you’ve kind of been out of the loop but being present and a functioning member of society isn’t exactly the first thing on your mind

people are right when they say time just melds together when you’re going through a breakup because you honest to god do not even know what day of the week it is

“okay, what’s going on…” you mutter to yourself, voice thick with sleep as you roll over onto your back and bring your phone up to your face to unlock it

it takes you a couple of tries to get into your phone because of how bright the screen is and you curse before resorting to typing in your passcode with fumbling fingers instead

you haven’t been on your phone too much because… well, you’ve just not really been in the mood to do anything but rot in bed all day with the curtains drawn — and not to mention, every time you’re on your phone you’re just waiting for a text or a call or literally anything from jimin but unsurprisingly it’s been complete silence on his end

you’ve mostly been ordering takeout and also you’re pretty sure you went the whole day without drinking water yesterday, so all in all, it doesn’t seem like you’re handling this very well

what makes things worse is that you have class today and it’ll be approximately a week since you last saw jimin and the two of you officially ended things and seven days is simply not enough recovery time — you haven’t even accepted the fact that you can no longer call him your boyfriend and that you have to call him your ex-boyfriend now (and teacher, but it’s not like that’s anything new)

i think we should end things permanently, because i want to be in a real relationship instead of whatever the fuck this has been.

jimin’s words ring loudly in your head and you feel your eyes starting to well with tears for the trillionth time in a row as you mindlessly scroll through all the notifications that have been marinating on your phone for the past seven days

the only thing you’ve been able to focus on is replaying that last conversation with jimin in your head and it’s driving you up the wall

i never said i was ashamed to be with you, jimin.

you never had to say it for me to see it.

“god…” you mutter, reaching up to pinch the bridge of your nose in a poor attempt to stop the tears from flowing

you haven’t been able to stop thinking about jimin and what makes it harder is the fact that you can’t talk about this with anyone without exposing yourself and jimin

and as much as you love lisa, you know that if you told her she would of course be concerned about you but would also have a million questions for you and you’re just not in the mood for an interview at the moment

another thing you’ve been thinking a lot about is what would’ve happened if you grabbed the phone and called lisa when jimin told you to call your friends and tell them the truth

would he have stayed?

was that really the proof that he needed to show him that you wanted to be with him?

would that have fixed everything?

you’d still have to hide your relationship — the only difference that telling your friends would make is that mr. park would be accused of playing favourites and knowing a few of the chatterboxes in class, word would spread very fast and it probably wouldn’t take long until you get an email from the dean asking you and jimin to come and speak to him

and then either jimin would get fired or you’d be expelled and both those options sound like hell

with that being said, wasn’t it an incredibly unfair move on jimin’s part to ask you to do that for him?

what if you’d asked him to call the dean to tell him that you two were together?

given the circumstances, wouldn’t jimin be hesitant to do it as well???

well, you suppose in your scenario it’s a little less high stakes because you’d just be telling a close friend, but still… you did the right thing, didn’t you?

it was irresponsible of both you and jimin to enter into a romantic relationship when you guys are teacher and student, and you had to put an end to it before the truth eventually came out and tore the two of you apart

this was the right thing to do

now jimin can continue teaching, and you can continue learning at this very prestigious dance academy that you worked very hard to get into

plus mom and dad would probably kill you if you got expelled over something as scandalous as this

sometimes doing the right thing feels bad! and it’s okay that you feel very, very bad at the moment, because feeling bad is just a normal part of the human experience.

you let out a huff of frustration, rolling onto your back as you look up at the ceiling

…but how do you know if you did the right thing or not?

you let out a slow exhale, shaking your head as you bring your phone back up to look through all your texts

you can’t help but wince a little looking through all your missed notifications throughout the week

most of your texts are from lisa and you know she’s going to want some kind of an explanation of your disappearance

from: lisa [wednesday 9:08am] — are you okay? barely heard from you all week

from: lisa [thursday 6:23 pm] — ??

from: lisa [friday 10:32am] — y/n

from: lisa [friday 11:02am] — helloooooo some kind of indication you are alive please

from: lisa [friday 8:14pm] — okay well you’re still sending me tiktoks so ik you’re alive

your thumb goes tired from scrolling through all of lisa’s texts and you finally reach the end to see that she texted you a few minutes ago

from: lisa [1:22pm] — are you coming to class today?

your fingers pause slightly as you think about how to respond and how to act casually about the fact that you’ve been a ghost for the last week

to: lisa [1:34pm] — yes!! i’m coming

to: lisa [1:34pm] — SORRY i haven’t been responding to your texts, social battery’s been weirdly low and feeling blegh bc period but i’ll see you today mwahaha

unsurprisingly, lisa doesn’t take too long to respond because she’s always on her phone and it’s never on do not disturb-

from: lisa [1:35pm] — hmmmm okayyy hope you’re feeling a little better at least? just glad ur alive! i’ll see u later ALSO read the group chat bc omg i’m dead

from: lisa [1:35pm] — mr. park

your stomach dips a little in anxiety at the mention of mr. park because the point of looking through your texts was to distract yourself from any thoughts of jimin, but then again, why are you surprised? the girls are obsessed with him and he’s always a hot topic in the group chat

one time he showed up to class wearing a pair of jeans that made his butt look really good and it was a topic in the group chat for like a week and a half straight

you switch over to look through the group chat, scrolling up the literal hundreds of texts until you get to what’s clearly the meat of the conversation

seulgi [best ballerinas 🤍] — You guys aren’t going to believe what I heard

seulgi [best ballerinas 🤍] — Rmb how I said I’m pretty sure Miss Im and Mr Park are like meant to be

seulgi [best ballerinas 🤍] — Apparently they were out on a date this weekend

lisa [best ballerinas 🤍] — wtffff NO WAYYY wait where’d u hear it from

seulgi [best ballerinas 🤍] — One of the guys from Miss Im’s class

seulgi [best ballerinas 🤍] — He slid into my DMs after their performance 💅🏼 as he should 💅🏼 and then we were texting for a bit and he just told me that he saw them walking around downtown together lmfaooooo I totally called it

you don’t even bother reading the rest of the messages but through your frantic scrolling you manage to catch a message from seulgi teasing you directly about losing your precious mr. park and- “oh, just give me a break!” you groan obnoxiously, tossing your phone aside before flipping onto your stomach and letting out a muffled scream into your pillow

great!

good for them!

good for jimin, good for nayeon, good for the happy couple! you’ll have to make sure to ask jimin if you’re allowed to bring a plus-one to their wedding and what colour they want to paint the nursery for the child they’re going to have who’ll undoubtedly be the cutest baby on the goddamn planet-

the thought of playing hooky and calling in sick so you don’t have to go to class crosses your mind briefly, but then you remember that in order to do that, you’d have to call mr. park to let him know (one time, lisa asked jisoo if she could let him know that she wouldn’t be in class because of a bad cold, and both lisa and jisoo ended up getting mildly scolded because why are you asking your classmate to talk to me for you, and why are you talking to me on behalf of your classmate?) and needless to say, the last thing you need is to talk to jimin and pretend like the only problem you have is that you’re not feeling well and you don’t think you can come to class today

and not to mention, with this new piece of information of him and miss im going out on a date over the weekend, you don’t want him thinking that he won the breakup because you’re so heartbroken that the only thing you can do in stay in bed and cry (even though technically that’s what you’ve been doing all weekend, but whatever) — as heartbroken as you are, you’re just as stubborn so you will be going to class and you’re going to try your absolute best to keep it together… you have to.

»»————- 🥀 ————-««

jimin splutters after splashing icy, ball-shrivelling cold water onto his face, blindly fumbling for the towel in his duffle bag before using it to pat himself off

he looks at himself in the mirror, leaning closer and reaching up with a finger to pull at the bags under his eyes

the last time he had bags this bad was when he would stay up all night rehearsing for his own exams

there’s not enough concealer in the world to hide the bags he has now

needless to say, this breakup has completely destroyed him and this is the first time he actually has no idea to conduct himself after ending things with someone

he’s had flings and short relationships all throughout high school, undergrad, and even at the academy, and it usually only takes him a few weeks to fully flush his ex out of his system, but he can already tell that this breakup is nothing compared to those ones

sure, he was sad after his breakup with nayeon and couldn’t even force himself to get over her for much longer than he’d anticipated, but that was then and this is now — and now, he can fully say that the breakup with you is one of the most devastating things to ever have happened to him

he’s been so out of it all week that he even ordered pizza for himself on friday night instead of digging into his usual meal of [insert choice of lean protein here], roasted vegetables and brown rice… a family sized pizza

a family sized pizza!!! a pizza for an entire family!!

the only time he went out this week was saturday afternoon when nayeon texted him to ask him if he wanted to go out for coffee and also to discuss what they wanted to do for their conjoined class today

and to be honest, jimin barely remembers what they talked about that day and he’s hoping that nayeon will carry them both through today’s class because mr. park is just not mentally here at the moment

to be honest he’d kind of been dreading coming to class (can you blame him?) and he considered calling in sick and cancelling class today, but if he cancelled today, that’d mean he’d have to have an extra makeup class next week and- well, he can’t avoid seeing you forever

it’s just that he doesn’t even know if he can look you in the eye after you basically showed him that you don’t want to be with him

it’s embarrassing

he’s heartbroken and humiliated and hurt and you’re basically the only thing that’s been on his mind this whole week

admittedly it was a little selfish of him to demand you to call your friends to tell them that you were dating him

it was an unfair move on his part and he knows he acted out of emotion, but… well, he just wished that you fought harder to keep him, that’s all

and it’s true that he always felt like you were slightly embarrassed to be with him — he was never afraid to hold your hand in public and act like a normal couple but it was always a little upsetting to turn and see you cowering down or hiding behind a pair of sunglasses or baseball hat or something to conceal your identity

he knows that you only did it to protect the both of you from being exposed, but you didn’t have to hide yourself all the time

you guys couldn’t even go to restaurants without you quietly requesting for a table at the very back to avoid being seen by anyone passing by

maybe this breakup was for the best, now that he’s had a week to think about it…

sure, his relationship with you was one of the best he’s ever had and he’s pretty sure he’s head over heels in love with you and would 100% say it back if you said it to him, but hey! he’ll get over it one day

you’re his student, he’s your teacher — it was inappropriate from the start and it was irresponsible of him to pursue anything with you, so this breakup was a good thing

it never would’ve worked out in the end, and it’s better that it ended sooner or later

this was just a lesson from the universe that he had to learn, and yes, it was a very hard lesson, but he’s always been good at learning and he’s just going to take this as a sign to not get involved with another one of his students ever again!

it was silly of him to think that it would ever work out in the first place, anyway, so if anything, he should be able to move on and move on fast

easy peasy

“easy fuckin’ peasy.” jimin clears his throat quietly, running his damp fingers through his hair as he looks at his reflection in the mirror from side to side, “i’m park fuckin’ jimin. top of my class, aced all my exams, youngest and most sought after teacher at this academy,” he puffs his chest out slightly, nodding to himself as he feels his confidence coming back to him

he’s mr. park, he knows he’s hot shit!

he doesn’t need you to feel complete

he doesn’t need you at all

he hears the voice in his head let out a laugh of disbelief followed by an all-knowing alright, keep lying to yourself if this is how you’re planning on coping with this breakup and immediately shuts it out before bending down to grab his duffle bag, swinging it over his shoulder before putting a pair of thick-rimmed, square framed glasses on

he forget to order more of his contacts over the weekend so he’ll have to wear his stupid dorky ass glasses today (the memory of you telling him how much you love it when he wears his glasses flashes in his mind and he shuts it out as best as he can, but the thought of getting you flustered today in class with these glasses makes the corner of his mouth twitch in a cocky smirk.)

»»————- 🥀 ————-««

“wow, look who’s alive!” you jolt in surprise when lisa slings an arm around you from behind, leaning her head against yours with a grin as the two of you continue walking towards the main doors, “period cramps are brutal this month, hey?”

“yeah, it’s been- ha, not great, you know how it is-“ you press your lips together in a tight smile as you pop your airpods back into the case so you can give your friend your full attention, “sorry i… barely texted you all throughout the week, i’ve just- um-“ you clear your throat quietly, pausing for a second to think about what excuse to give lisa

you feel awful for lying to her about all of this because you know that lisa would never be upset or angry with you and is only here to help you because she’s your friend, but still… the wound is a little fresh at the moment so lying will have to do

because if you rip this bandaid off right now and she gives you that sympathetic head tilt and shoulder droop and big sad eyes combo, you are 100% not going to be able to make it through this class without completely losing your mind and you are certainly not about to burst into tears in front of your classmates

“you’ve just what?” lisa nudges your side to get your attention and you look over at her, your mouth still hanging open with no fake excuse sitting on the tip of your tongue

you’ve never really been good at thinking of things on the spot

you’ve also never been good at lying so there’s that to consider as well

“i just… i don’t know! weird mood. one of those weeks, you know?” you shrug weakly, lisa’s brow raising slightly before she purses her head and nods slowly

“no, that’s okay! i was just worried about you, that’s all. but you… know you can talk to me about anything, right?” she holds the door open for you and you offer her a meek smile, swallowing the lump in your throat as the two of you head towards the changing rooms

“yeah, i know.” you respond quietly, choosing not to say anything else after that even though you know you’re acting very suspicious and you have a feeling lisa knows you’re hiding something from her

“you excited for class today?” she changes the subject swiftly and you immediately nod even though you have no idea what’s happening in class today, “i’ve been buzzing about it all week. miss im’s boys are so fine.”

“they’re- oh, we have the, uh- they’re coming to our class today, right? we’re, like, pairing up with them or something like that, right?” you clear your throat, opening your locker door up before sitting down on the bench to take your sneakers off, “yeah, they’re all very nice to look at. that jungkook guy is nice, i follow him on instagram.”

“oh, jungkook is- mmph-“ you can’t help but giggle when lisa bites her fist, “he’s more than very nice to look at. you should ask him out. he was making googly eyes at you at mr. park and miss. im’s performance.”

the reminder of that night immediately kills the vibe and you feel your mood drop, but you focus on taking your socks off instead of thinking about i think we should end things permanently, because i want to be in a real relationship instead of-

the sound of lisa’s locker door slamming shut snaps you out of it and you turn to see that she’s already fully dressed and ready to go with her water bottle in one hand and her phone in the other, “you want me to wait for you?”

“you can go in first! i’ll be a while, i-“ you look down at yourself and your sweatpants, letting out a breath because you’re already exhausted and changing into a leotard is no easy feat, “i still have to change and then i have to pee and stuff, but i’ll see you in there.”

as soon as lisa leaves, you feel yourself slump as you lean over with your elbows on your knees, your mind immediately spacing out

you are not mentally here right now and you don’t know how you’re about to go through a two hour class where the main thing you have to do is focus otherwise you get in trouble for it

“it’s a guy.”

you immediately perk up when you realise you aren’t alone and you turn to look over your shoulder, your brows knitting together in confusion as you blink up at seulgi before looking back down at your duffle bag quickly and pretending like you were in the middle of going through it, “what are you talking about? and how the hell did you get in here so quietly??”

“it’s a guy. am i right?” seulgi sighs, ignoring your second question (though you are genuinely curious how she managed to come in without you noticing, or maybe you’re just really really checked out that you didn’t notice her at all) and plopping herself down on the bench next to you before crossing one leg over the other and crossing her arms over her chest, “that’s why you’ve been acting so off all week.”

“what are you on about?” you snort, though you can’t help but think to yourself how true it is that women are very intuitive when it comes to pretty much anything but especially when it has something to do with men

and seulgi is the best at figuring things out — especially when it comes to things that are literally none of her business like this!

“you’ve been weirdly civil with me over text when you usually bite back with something.” she raises her chin slightly, her gaze never leaving your face, “you never just sit there and take it.”

your eyes flicker slightly and you find yourself unable to look seulgi in the eye for more than two seconds before looking away, and you feel the hairs on the back of your neck prickle when she gives you that one look that screams i’m not going to stop pestering you until you tell me what drama you’re swept up in

“what makes you think that me being civil has something to do with guy problems?” you blurt out, your cheeks starting to grow pink out of anxiety because now you know that seulgi’s onto you, “also, we rarely text and talk outside of class except for when we’re out with the other girls for brunch or something. why do you care about my texting style all of a sudden?”

“well, you didn’t deny anything.” seulgi points out, and your hand immediately freezes in your bag upon the realisation that yeah, you didn’t deny anything and seulgi is definitely onto you and is also definitely right because you definitely are going through guy problems right now

but how much can you trust seulgi? you haven’t even told lisa who is arguably your best friend in the class and also the entire world

“we aren’t friends, seulgi. you don’t have to pretend like you care.” you mutter, voice wavering slightly as your eyes begin to brim with tears because this is the first time someone’s asked you if you’re okay in person and clearly you’re an emotional wreck if seulgi is the one asking and it’s making your eyes tear up

keep it together, keep it together, keep it together, you remind yourself, chewing on the inside of your cheek as you pull your leg warmers on and quickly reach up to wipe a rogue tear away before seulgi sees you crying

“so it is a guy.” seulgi hums, nodding her head to herself before clicking her teeth, “knew it. is it someone we know? was it a hookup? long time situationship? did he ghost you? have you been secretly dating someone this whole time and you just got dumped by them?”

all the blood drains from your face as you turn your head to look at seulgi with wide eyes (nearly snapping your neck in the progress), your lips parting before you quickly shut then and turn back to pull your slippers on

seulgi’s eyes widen before she blinks rapidly

no way

this whole time you’ve been dating someone?!

to be honest seulgi’s always thought you were a massive prude who would crumble at the sight of a couple holding hands in public so this is actually a pleasant surprise for her

“no fucking way!” seulgi delivers a harsh slap to your shoulder and you press your lips together, your eyes fluttering shut because fuck, the jig is up and now you have to confess to your sins to someone who cannot be farther away than good and holy, “oh my god. y/n y/l/n, you sneaky, sneaky girl. who?!”

»»————- 🥀 ————-««

“are those new leg warmers?” lisa looks over at you as you stretch beside her, and you look down at your brand new (grey, with little thunderclouds on them) leg warmers before nodding, “yet another pair for your already extensive collection…”

“well, what can i say?” you chuckle, reaching down to smooth them down a little before shrugging, “i wasn’t gonna get them, but retail therapy always makes you feel better when you’re feeling like shit.” you blurt out, looking up slightly when you realise that saying retail therapy implies that something happened in which you need to make yourself feel better

…

“retail therapy? what on earth bugged you so much that you needed to buy something?” lisa snorts, pulling her hair up into a ponytail in the mirror

“probably just dealing with the fact that she knows she’ll never be as good of a dancer as i am.” seulgi butts in, letting out a sigh before shaking her head, “it’s okay, y/n. not all of us were meant for the stage.”

“thank you for the reminder, seulgi. you keep me humble.” you joke, giving her a soft smile and acknowledging her attempt at a distraction with a little nod — you ended up telling seulgi absolutely everything in the changing rooms (but not before triple checking that nobody was around to listen, because that would’ve been a disaster for sure) because… well, it was killing you having to hold everything in! and seulgi, believe it or not, was willing to lend an ear and actually listen for a change instead of blabbing her mouth off like the know it all she is

much to your surprise, seulgi told you that she wouldn’t tell anyone about this (to be perfectly honest, seulgi thinks it was kind of sick of you to break the rules and date your own teacher, because it’s very unlike y/n y/l/n to do something as taboo as that… she has a newfound sense of respect for you because she would probably also do the same thing if she was in your position because who in their right mind wouldn’t launch themselves full speed at the chance to date mr. park?? but she’ll never tell you that because she knows it would go to your head and you would try to become best friends with her and she’s pretty sure that your relationship works better when you’re frenemies who are constantly trying to one-up each other.)

“they’re a little… gloomier than what you usually get…” lisa giggles, reaching over to jab a finger into one of the thunderclouds, “still cute, though! and it matches the weather.” you turn to glance out the window, frowning at the sight of the dark grey clouds hanging in the air as the the windows tremble from the weight of chubby raindrops smacking against it rhythmically

the weather for the past week has been absolutely dreadful and definitely hasn’t made you feel any better, but you have to admit that it was kind of relaxing laying in bed all day listening to the sound of the rain

“well, the weather is shit, but what makes me feel better is knowing that in a few minutes this room is going to flooded in an ocean of hot testosterone-“ lisa wraps her arms around herself before shimmying her shoulders with a squeal, “aren’t you guys excited?! i don’t know why you aren’t more excited that we basically get a free pass to flirt with boys for the next two hours-“

“i’ve got my eye on seokjin,” ailee chimes in, “god, i would climb him like a goddamn tree.”

“you know who’s actually built like a tree? kim namjoon. you seen those thighs of his?”

“well, i’m gonna see if i can get paired with hoseok — i’ve seen him dance, he’s super good. he does hip-hop too, the man can do it all-“

“yoongi and i already spoke last time so i’m pretty sure we’re gonna hook up in class and also out of class-“

“you guys just stay away from taehyung, because i’ve been eyeing him for so long-“

“y/n, what about you?” you feel lisa nudge your back with her foot and you spin around on your bum to face the group, “well, i don’t think i need to ask you who you want to be paired up with.”

“you seem to be convinced that jungkook was making googly-moogly eyes at me but i’m telling you that he was just being friendly-“

“oh, well- yes, jungkook was definitely making googly-moogly eyes at you and i’m pretty sure he’s going to try to get paired up with you so don’t even worry about that- i was talking about mr. park!”

“wh- what?” your eyes widen slightly and you let out a nervous laugh, “i- what- what makes you think that i- why would i get paired up with mr. park?? that’s not even- that’s not even allowed, i don’t think a student is allowed to be paired up with a teacher for an exercise like this-”

“why are you getting all flustered??” lisa laughs, reaching over to pinch your thigh, “oh my god, i was just teasing you because of the fat crush you have on mr. park, i’m not actually saying you’re going to get paired up with him, dummy-“

“even if y/n was paired up with mr. park, she’d probably clomp all over his feet.” seulgi snorts, “besides, she- oh, shit-“ she immediately gets up and you turn to see jimin walk into the room, muscle memory forcing you up from the ground so you can stand with your feet in third position with your hands behind your back next to seulgi

you feel your heart racing in your chest as the familiar smell of his cologne wafts past you and you immediately look down when he walks past you

you just hope that no one can hear how hard your heart is pounding because you would’ve appreciated some kind of warning before jimin came into the room

you’re just going to keep your head down and stay in the back of the class for this lesson, and then you’re going to slip out with the girls at the end of class as quickly as you can

“good afternoon, ladies…” jimin greets lowly as he makes his way towards the front of the room, his voice slightly raspy from the complete lack of sleep he’s gotten

he drops his duffle bag on the ground as he looks out at the godawful weather, frowning slightly because no one’s responded to him and he thought he taught you guys better than that! it seems like two weeks without class has turned you girls a little sloppy…

“i said, good afternoon, ladies…” jimin tries again, emphasising his tone before turning around swiftly with a tilt of his head, leaning back against the counter with toned arms crossed over his chest, “what’s the matter, you guys forget your manners?”

“good afternoon, mr. park!” everyone fumbles to respond to his greeting, and you find yourself barely mumbling out a barely coherent ‘afternoon’ before continuing to stand in your spot obediently

“…alright, jesus, i don’t know what the hell that was-“ jimin scoffs, shaking his head with a mild expression of disgust on his face, “maybe it’s a good thing miss im and her students are coming over today so you can see how proper students are supposed to act!” he claps his hands together before reaching into his back pocket for his phone, “miss im will be leading the class today, i’m just gonna be hanging around the back as her co-teacher, but please do your best and try not to embarrass me in front of her students. she just texted me and let me know that she’ll be here on time, so just continue warming up until they get here…”

“someone woke up on the bitchy side of bed this morning. what do you think his problem is?” lisa mutters to you as the class disperses back into doing warm-up exercises, and you shrug with one shoulder and plop back down on the ground

“i bet i know.” seulgi snorts, and you shoot her a warning look before she smirks and sends a blowing kiss in your direction

you turn your head slightly to look over your shoulder, surprised to see jimin looking right at you before his eyes flicker and he quickly turns and looks down at his phone instead

»»————- 🥀 ————-««

“now, the purpose of today’s class is just to familiarise yourself with dancing with a partner — after all, it’ll be one of the things you have to do during your exams at the end of the semester!” nayeon chirps, standing tall with her clipboard held close to her chest, “mr. park and i were dance partners, as you know… it’s also important to develop a bond with the person you’re partnered with. if there’s no bond, there’s no trust, no warmth, no chemistry, and all of that will be visible on stage through your dancing, so i cannot emphasise how important it is to really strengthen the connection you have with one another.”

“well, there’s more than one way to do that-“ taehyung mutters, the class breaking into a collection of snorts and giggles before going silent again when jimin gives them one of his signature unimpressed death glares

he’s barely spoken a word since nayeon and her boys came into the class ten minutes ago because that’s how mentally checked out he is

it’s actual torture having to be here with you standing across the room as if he doesn’t have a million questions lined up and ready to go

were you just lying when you said you loved him? did you know he was awake? did you do it on purpose to get him to become more attached to you??? did you date him so that you would be chosen for the nutcracker at the end of the year?!

he made brief eye contact with you earlier (he was staring at the back of your head and wasn’t expecting you to turn and look back at him) and he swore he was going to start tearing up when the two of you locked gazes which is why he had to look away so quickly

“i’ve paired you up randomly, so i’m just going to read your names off my list. when you hear your name, pair up with your partner and stand to the left side of the room and wait quietly until everyone’s been paired up,” nayeon clears her throat, looking down at her list, “lisa and taehyung, jisoo and seokjin, seulgi and namjoon…”

jimin resists the urge to blow his cheeks out and roll his eyes out of complete boredom as he stands next to nayeon with his arms behind his back, occasionally glancing down at her list to see how many people still have to be paired up

“-y/n and jungkook-“

he immediately perks up at the mention of your name, eyebrows furrowing when it’s followed by jungkook’s name because what the hell does nayeon mean by y/n and jungkook??

“oh, uh-“ jimin nudges nayeon’s arm, “you- you paired y/n up with jungkook? we, uh, did we… did we talk about that, or…?”

“what do you mean? i asked you if you had any preferences for partners and you told me to sort them out, don’t you remember?” nayeon whispers, using the tip of her pen to trace a line down her page before tapping right next to your name and jungkook’s name, “plus y/n’s clearly your strongest student, and jungkook is mine, so i’d like to see how they work together. i think they’ll work out quite well, they already seem to be pretty friendly with each other…”

“y/n and jungkook.”

you look up when you hear your name being called and you immediately look over at jungkook, offering him a shy smile when he beams and starts to make his way over to you

what a pleasant surprise!

you actually really like jungkook — sometimes he sends you memes on instagram or he’ll swipe up and respond to your stories, so the two of you have interacted more than a handful of times and you think he’s a pretty solid guy

and you’d be lying if you said he wasn’t handsome (and it kind of gives you an ego boost knowing that he might have a teensy weensy crush on you)

“pst- make him jealous.” you hold back a yelp when seulgi suddenly burrows her fingers into your side and you turn to glare at her

“what?”

“make. him. jealous.” she enunciates through gritted teeth, eyes flickering over to jimin before she looks over at a smiley jungkook, “nothing wrong with being a little petty.”

“what- i’m not going to make him jealous, that’s not going to solve anything-“

“it won’t solve anything, but would it be so wrong to have a little fun to make yourself feel better?”

“seulgi, i don’t like being petty and- hi!” you turn your head and greet jungkook with a bright smile, letting out a chuckle afterwards, “nice to see you again.”

“likewise! i’m glad we got paired up.” he nods, standing a little closer to you as the two of you return your attention to the front where miss. im is in the middle of giving her tips for the girls

“try not to help your partner! you kinda just have to trust them — i know it’s very tempting because you know the combination and you know what step comes next, but the best thing to do is to just keep a strong core and focus on yourself! that way, your partner can- you know, kind of put you where you need to go. so, what we’re going to have you do for this exercise is, girls, you’ll make up a short combination, tell your partner what that is, and then immediately perform it on the spot.” miss. im turns to look at jimin, “so, mr. park, do you have any tips for the boys?”

“uh, i mean…” jimin purses his lips slightly, “use your palms, not your fingers. it wouldn’t feel good for your partner to have your fingers digging into their ribcages especially. also, you’ll be able to have more control when you’re using your palms instead of lifting with your fingers. just, uh… yeah, trust in your partner.” he nods, looking over at nayeon to signal that he has nothing more to add

god, he really is out of it today

“any volunteers?” nayeon purses her lips as she looks around the class, not surprised to see that majority of you are avoiding eye contact with her (it is pretty intimidating dancing with all of your peers looking at you and judging every move, but it’s something that all of you will have to do eventually), “alright, then i’ll have to choose, since no one is taking the initiative.” she chirps, smacking her palm flat against her clipboard before turning to look right over at you and jungkook, “jungkook, y/n — would you like to come up here and demonstrate for the rest of the class?”

you feel the hairs on your arm prickle in anxiety as you stand there for a second in silence, both you and jungkook exchanging glances before you turn back to look at miss im with a meek smile, “ah- yes, miss im.”

you were expecting everyone to break out and scatter around the room instead of immediately performing in front of the class, but you suppose everyone’s already warmed up and ready to go…

“bepetty.” seulgi coughs quietly, and you turn to see jungkook holding his hand out for you to take

“shall we?” he grins, clearly very confident in your guys’ ability to impress the whole class with your little routine, “don’t worry miss im, y/n and i will try our best not to completely amaze you with our routine, but no promises…” jungkook’s comment gets a couple of laughs and you giggle lightly before taking his hand and letting him lead you to the front

“that’s easy for you to say, i’m the one who has to come up with the routine-“ you add on, the corner of your mouth lifting in a knowing smirk when jungkook lets out a laugh and a nod

his hand feels quite warm in yours and your eyes widen a little when you feel his thumb rub over your skin soothingly

“do your best!” miss im smiles, flicking the main lights off and turning the spotlight ones on as you guys get to the front, “y/n, what combination will you two be demonstrating for your peers?”

ah, shit

“i….” you’ve never been good at thinking of things on the spot, and you can’t help but look over at jimin for a split second who seems to be shooting daggers right at jungkook as he stands leaning against the wall by the door, his arms crossed over his chest and his tongue poking against the inside of his cheek before he clears his throat quietly and rubs his lips together a couple of times

his eyes are lidded slightly and to be honest, if looks could kill, jungkook would be bleeding out on the floor right about now and you can’t help but feel a little pleased at the obvious fact that jimin doesn’t like that you were paired up with jungkook and definitely doesn’t like the fact that miss im chose you and jungkook to demonstrate in front of the class

“y/n?” jungkook elbows you slightly to get your attention and you clear your throat before standing up a little straighter, sorting through all the moves that you know and trying your best to come up with a quick routine on the spot

“oh! i, uh… okay, first, i’m gonna piqué attitude to the left, tombé… uh, double stepover, and then i’ll do… ah… i’ll do… échappé-echappe… passe-passe, i… suppose i’ll do a spin and then finish in arabesque?” you smile sheepishly, looking over at miss im and jimin for validation only to get a grunt from jimin and a pleased nod from miss im

that seems like a doable combination, right?

god, you hope so

lisa shoots you a thumbs up from the audience and you clear your throat quietly, taking a few steps back and waiting for your cue as miss im lowers the spotlights slightly

the last thing you see before the lights dim is jimin’s furrowed brows and clenched jaw and you press your lips together in order to suppress a grin

»»————- 🥀 ————-««

“wonderful job, you two. impeccable!” nayeon claps her hands gently along with the rest of the class, a proud smile on her face as she nudges jimin with her elbow, “see, what’d i tell you? the two of them fit together like two puzzle pieces, don’t you think?”

“yep.” jimin licks over his front teeth in irritation when he notices the way jungkook’s hand lingers on the small of your back (a little too low for his liking, and if he was grading jungkook for an exam he’d immediately dock off a point for hand placement alone) as the two of you bow/curtsey at the front to thank your classmates for the applause and he feels his blood beginning to boil when he sees the shy little smile on your face and the blush spreading across your cheeks when jungkook whispers something in your ear

what the fuck is he saying to you that’s making your cheeks red??

“you have something you want to share with the class, jungkook?” jimin blurts out right before he can even process that he’s blurted something out, his hand instinctively reaching over to smack the main lights back on

the light switching back on so suddenly makes a few of you flinch and you reach up instinctively to shield your eyes, a little puzzled by what the problem is

jimin is completely unbothered as he looks at jungkook and tilts his head, “well? if you can whisper it to y/n, you can share it with everyone.”

you and jungkook exchange glances of confusion

“oh, i-“ jungkook stands up a little taller and jimin can’t help but feel drunk on power because of how intimidated he looks right now, “i just said that she did a really good job, mr. park, that’s all. a-and that she looks very pretty when she’s focused.”

“interesting. well, i don’t think that’s a very appropriate comment to make to your peer,” jimin responds immediately, shaking his head before looking over at nayeon, “miss im, you need to control your hormonal students-“

“woah, my boys aren’t the hormonal ones here-“ nayeon scoffs, and jimin’s eyes widen in offence at the dig at you guys even though he technically made the first jab (and also, nayeon’s probably right about that because he’s seen the way you guys look at him and has also heard many of things said about him), “and it’s perfectly fine to compliment a peer! maybe keep the second half of your comment for after class, but don’t listen to grumpy mr. park, you two — again, great job, you can go back to your spots.”

awkward, scattered applause makes its way around the room as you and jungkook return to your spots, and lisa gives you a look that says “what was that??? we’re definitely talking about this later” to which you respond with a quick shrug as you pass by her

“okay…” miss im clears her throat quietly, letting out an uncomfortable chuckle before flipping to the next page on her clipboard, jimin following close behind her as the two of them head back to the front of the room, “let me see… jisoo, seokjin, can you guys come up next?”

“i’m sorry if i- if i made you uncomfortable with my comment, y/n, i really didn’t mean to-“ jungkook whispers, and you shake your head quickly as you look up at him with a frown

“no, not at all! it was very sweet of you-“ you reassure him, reaching down to give his hand a squeeze, “really, it was very kind of you to say. and you did a great job as well- sorry i almost stepped on your foot when i-”

“oh, that’s- no, it was really all you, i basically just followed you and made sure to spin you and stuff-“

“jungkook!” jimin’s voice is crisp and it makes you stand straight up as you turn your head to look back at the front, “talking again while your peers are getting ready to perform up front?”

jungkook’s face turns bright red and he shakes his head quickly, “i- no, sir, i’m- i wasn’t-“

“i talked to him first, so if you’re going to bark at someone, you should do it at me-“ you raise your hand to get jimin to look over at you before giving him a casual shrug, “my bad.”

“‘your bad’?” jimin repeats with air quotations, narrowing his eyes at you and almost daring you to continue speaking to him in such a casual tone when you know he’s made it very clear how important it is to speak to him formally when it’s class time, “well, is there something that you’d like to share with the class since it was so important you had to speak to jungkook about it right now?”

“just that he did a fantastic job and he looked incredibly handsome doing it,” you chirp, maintaining a smile on your face, “i also said that we did completely amaze everyone with our routine because i guess we just fit together so, so well and- well, the second half of my comment, i’ll say to him when the two of us are outside of class, as miss im suggested.”

your comment doesn’t get any snickers, which isn’t a surprise considering the fact that everyone is probably terrified of how angry jimin looks — but honestly, you have no idea why he seems to be picking on you and jungkook but you have a feeling it has something to do with the breakup

and when you think about that, you can’t help but get more infuriated because can’t he see that he benefits from you breaking up with him?! now he’s free to date whoever he wants to date

like he said, he can be in a real relationship instead of whatever the fuck the two of you were in

not to mention, you haven’t brought your personal feelings into the situation the same way he has (this is a lie, you are definitely acting on your emotions right now but the denial is slathered on thick today) so what makes him think that he has the right to treat you and jungkook like shit just because he’s all pissy?!?!

“i’d like to pull y/n out to talk to her for a moment.” jimin immediately turns to look at naeyon with his hands behind his back, nayeon frowning as she looks back and forth between him and you, “now please, miss im. we won’t be long.”

“well, can you wait until we’re done?” you pipe up, and that gets you a little stomp on the toes from seulgi because now you’re just doing too much but the rage that’s building inside of you from having jimin clearly picking on both you and jungkook is becoming unbearable, “i just think the respectable move is to wait until we’re done learning, mr. park. or would you like to continue wasting everyone’s time by singling out jungkook and i just because you’re clearly in a sour mood for no reason and seem to be enjoying using us as your emotional punching bags?”

the silence is almost palpable, both you and jimin glaring at each other from across the room as everyone stands silently, awkwardly, because what the absolute fuck is going on right now?

jimin’s eyes have gone completely dark and if it weren’t for the fact that he used to be your boyfriend, you would probably be terrified for basically cussing out your teacher in front of the whole class — but the scale feels balanced now because the current conversation taking place doesn’t seem at all like a mr. park vs miss. y/l/n interaction… this is a jimin vs y/n interaction.

“leave this classroom right now.” jimin says through gritted teeth, his voice eerily low and quiet as he continues staring at you without a single blink, “right fucking now, y/n.”

“no problem.” you snap, swiftly moving your way through the crowd and heading straight for the door, your fists clenched at your sides

you let the door slam shut behind you, angry tears beginning to brim at the edges of your eyes as you storm down the hallway towards the changing rooms so you can get your bags and go home

you shouldn’t have come to class today — you knew that seeing jimin would be too much for you and now look at where it’s gotten you!

openly disrespecting jimin not just in front of the girls but also in front of miss im’s boys, which probably mortified jimin because he prides himself on how well-behaved you guys are whenever you’re paired up with students from another class… you have a feeling this isn’t going to end well at all.

the thought of being grilled not just by jimin but also the dean of the school sends a lightning bolt of anxiety right into you and your brain immediately begins to conjure up an email of what you’re going to say in your apology letter because that’s the type of student you are, not whoever you were just a second ago

you just couldn’t help yourself!! you’re running on an inconsistent sleep schedule and you haven’t been eating right and you’ve barely been drinking water and you’re sad about the breakup and mad at the circumstances and also feeling a little bit like maybe you acted too hastily in the first place and should’ve communicated with jimin about how you were feeling and what you were insecure about instead of diving head first into the whole crazy jealous girlfriend act and driving him away

and now it seems to be your ego and your pride standing in the way of making you turn around and just talk to jimin because walking away and accepting that this is just the way things are is the much easier option

“so stupid,” you sniffle, reaching up to wipe away a stray tear as your bottom lip starts to tremble

you’ve ruined everything

“hey, i didn’t say you could leave-“ you glance over your shoulder when you hear jimin’s voice as you continue making your way down the stairs, but you pick up your pace when you see him starting to follow you, “y/n, i swear to god-“

“i’m going home, i’m clearly not in the right state of mind to be here right now, mr. park-“

“oh, don’t give me that bullshit, y/n-“ jimin snaps, “i think you and i both know we’ve been avoiding each other but we need to talk because your behaviour today isn’t coming out of nowhere-“

“i’m sorry for talking back to you in class, but you were clearly picking on jungkook and i and i was so fucking over it-“ you swing the main door open, sneakers squeaking against the linoleum when you come to a sudden stop after seeing how heavy the rainfall is

you contemplate staying and waiting until the rain calms down a little but the thought of having to stay and talk to jimin is just a little too much for you at the moment

“it’s raining out and you don’t have an umbrella, you big baby-“ jimin changes the subject when thunder suddenly rumbles from outside, stopping at the top of the stairs to look at you, “what are you gonna do, walk in the rain?!”

“if that’s what i wanted to do, then i have every right to do so!”

you came here by bus and you know it doesn’t come for another twenty minutes, meaning that not only are you going to have to walk in the rain to the bus stop, you’ll also have to wait in the rain until it comes and that’s just a recipe for the nastiest cold in the entire world

and the thought of having to nurse a horrible cold and nurse your poor heart sounds like a nightmare

“y/n, i know you’re upset but you’re being irrational-”

“so what if i wanna walk in the rain?!” the emotional side of your brain takes over as you glare up at jimin before storming towards the doors, “i’m an adult, i can make my own decisions-“

“i know you are, and i know you can, but, y/n, please-“ jimin grabs the back of your arm right as you get to the bottom of the stairs and you immediately fling his arm away, “just talk to me, please-“

“about what?!” you adjust the strap of your duffle bag over your shoulder, “we broke up, it’s for the better, you’re my teacher and i’m your student and we never should’ve started dating in the first place because it never would’ve worked out anyway and-“ before you know it, everything is coming out of you and you can’t find a way to stop or control the words coming out of your mouth, “and i think maybe i shouldn’t come to class for a few weeks because it’s going to be weird and i can’t- i can’t be in the same room as you, jimin, it’s killing me-“

“it’s killing me, too-“ jimin admits softly, brown eyes glistening slightly underneath the lights, “i just- i can’t stop thinking about you, and i- baby, i- i miss you so much, you have no idea-“ your eyes immediately well with tears and you shake your head quickly as you take a few steps back, pushing the door open and stumbling out while unable to tear your gaze away from jimin’s, “please, we can figure something out, i know we can. i know i want to be with you, y/n, i don’t want anyone else, i just want you-“ his voice tremors slightly and he reaches out for you, “and i didn’t mean it when i called our relationship nothing, i was just hurt and- and angry and- i don’t even know why we broke up-“

“you should be with nayeon, she’s better for you and-“ you lower your voice slightly, “i know you went out with her over the weekend, so-“

“went out with her??” jimin gawks, almost letting out a laugh of disbelief, “we met up for coffee to talk about the lesson plan for today- don’t think i didn’t hear what everyone was muttering about before class, you guys need to cut the gossiping and- oh my god, y/n, is that what this is about?? you think i want to be with nayeon? we broke up for a reason, you- this is so incredibly frustrating, y/n, why can’t you just believe me when i say that i want to be with you?!”

everything that’s coming out of jimin’s mouth makes you feel ten times worse knowing that the two of you can’t be together

“this is why we need to sit down and talk about things, be honest and give each other our side of the story, because clearly something’s been miscommunicated and-“

“it doesn’t matter, jimin, at the end of the day, even if we talk about what happened we still can’t be together-“

“we can, we just- we can figure something out-“ the overwhelming reminder that you’ll have to tell the dean and all your classmates and face judgement and be gossiped about on top of the already overwhelming emotion of seeing and talking to jimin is just too much for you to bear, and you find your heart skipping more than a few beats out of anxiety because the only thing on your mind right now is to run away and hide from all of this

“i can’t be here, i have to go home, i can’t be here right now-“ you whimper, turning around to head into the rain, “you just- we can’t be together, jimin-“

“y/n-!” the last thing you hear before you sprint out into the dark, misty rain is the sound of jimin crying out for you and you can’t help but burst into tears, covering your mouth with your hand to muffle your sobs

run away run away run away run away

water splashes up and around you at every step you take, adrenaline coursing through your veins as you keep running down the sidewalk with your duffle bag flopping behind you wildly

this is too much

everything is just too much

you just need to go home and then everything will be fine

it doesn’t matter that jimin wants to work on things with you (it does, because you do, too), it doesn’t matter that he wants to find a way to make things work (it does, because you do, too), it doesn’t matter that he’s clearly stated that he wants to be with you and not nayeon (it does, because it reassures you and now you really know that jimin just wants you and you know that you just want him too) because all that matters is that everything is too much to handle and you feel like your head is about to explode

“so what am i supposed to do then?!” the sound of jimin’s voice down the street immediately makes you stop and turn around, and you’re glad that it’s raining like this to mask the tears streaming down your face

you aren’t surprised that he’s caught up to you, and you stand still as you look at him standing across from you, all the way at the end of the block, “what the FUCK am i supposed to do, y/n, huh?!” he yells, grabbing a fistful of his shirt and pounding against his chest a few times, “you want me to stand here and act like i don’t love you?! like we never happened?! IS THAT WHAT YOU WANT?!”

“i…”

“tell me that’s what you want and i’ll leave it alone, y/n. all you have to do is tell me that this is what you want.” your feet are stuck in place as jimin jogs right over to you and you resist the very strong urge to look away from him again but he just looks so sad and you hate yourself for doing this to him

“it was wrong of me to pressure you to tell your friends about us the way that i did, i know that.” jimin nods, slicking his hair back with a hand, “i fucked up, and i’m sorry for doing that. but i meant it when i said i wanted to be in a proper relationship, y/n, because i want to be able to hold your hand in public, i wanna take you out for dinners without constantly feeling like we’re going to get caught, i- i want to show you off! i wanna show you off because i… i love you, y/n…”

jimin shakes his head in disappointment when your only response is to stand there, staring at him with wide, trembling eyes

he waits one, two, three seconds for you to say something, to say literally anything and he hates that you still have nothing to say to him

even if you said you didn’t want to be with him, that would be a better response than you just standing there staring at him

forget it

obviously you’ve made your answer clear, and now he knows that he was 100% more invested in you than you were in him

if you want him to pretend like he doesn’t care about you and that you’re just another one of his students, he’s perfectly capable of doing that

he was a little out of control today, but he’ll be able to manage it in future classes

the thought of transferring you to another teacher’s class briefly flits through his mind but he’s reminded by the fact that he’d have to talk to the dean about that and then the dean would have to ask why jimin wants to transfer you and that’d just be a whole thing

plus, the semester’s nearly over so pretty soon jimin won’t have to be forced to be in the same room with the woman he loves but he can’t say he loves

it’s going to fine

everything is going to be fine

he’s been broken up with before, and he’s picked himself up and has moved on

he can do this

“fine, y/n.” he scoffs to himself, turning on his heel to head back towards the building, “if that’s what you want, i can’t change your mind. i’m sorry. i won’t push it any further.”

“i was gonna talk to the dean!”

jimin stops in his tracks when you finally speak up, and he turns to look over his shoulder to see that you’ve taken one step forward but hesitating to come any closer to him like a scared baby deer

he doesn’t move, afraid that if he moves too quickly he might scare you off and stop you from what you’re about to say

“what?” he asks quietly, turning around to face you and relieved to see that you don’t seem like you’re about to take off again

“i was- i was gonna talk to the dean.” you repeat quietly before averting your gaze, “i’d made an appointment and everything, i was gonna talk to the dean about us because i- i love you… too.” you blurt out, looking back up at him, “i love you too, but i’m… scared.”

“scared of someone finding out?”

“well, that’s a pretty big chunk of it because i could get expelled and you could get fired, but i’m also scared because… the last time i felt this way about someone, they left me for their ex six months after we said i love you to each other.” you swallow thickly, feeling slightly ashamed and embarrassed to admit that about yourself since it’s not something you like to bring up, “i… if there is even a 1% chance of you and nayeon getting back together, i don’t want any part of it. and i know that’s unfair of me to say because life happens and i get it but-” you whimper, feeling your heart splinter at the reminder of how broken up you were over your previous relationship, “as much as i love you and i want to work on things with you, i don’t wanna be hurt again-“

“you won’t be, y/n-“

“you don’t know that-“

“but i do!” jimin drops to his knees, looking up at you from the ground as he keeps his hands firm on the sides of your thighs, “baby, i do know that- i don’t know what crazy rumour you guys cooked up but i’m not secretly in love with nayeon- i wanna be with you, please, please just give us a chance to make it work-“

“i’m still your student, jimin…” you sniffle, reaching up to wipe at your red eyes, “all of this doesn’t change the fact that you are my teacher and i am your student, and the both of us never should’ve started doing this in the first place-“

“i’ll talk to the dean about getting you transferred to another class, or- or i can transfer to another class- i will make it work, y/n, we can make this work.”

you chew on the inside of your cheek anxiously as you look down at jimin, jimin who you’re hopelessly in love with, jimin who you love waking up next to and falling asleep beside, jimin who wakes you up with kisses on the face and a mug of tea (you hate tea, you just drink it because it’s him), jimin who you know you want to be with because it’s been so long since you’ve felt so strongly and so surely about someone and… well, it’s jimin.

“okay.” you nod slowly, reaching down to cup his cheek gently before swiping your thumb against his skin, “okay, we can make it work. i wanna make this work, but i think the first thing we have to do is talk to the dean because i don’t know how much longer i can hide it from everyone-!” you don’t get much of a chance to say anything else before jimin’s shooting up from the ground, pulling you in for a kiss as your duffle bag drops to the ground

“oh my god, i missed you so much, you have no idea how much-“ jimin murmurs against your lips, his arm looping around your waist to pull you in closer, while your arms sling around his neck and your fingers curl into the hair at the back of his head

“i missed you too-“ you laugh lightly, heart thrumming happily in your chest as you find yourself pressing closer into jimin’s familiar warmth, “we can make this work.”

»»————- 🥀 ————-««

(“are we going to talk about how you were basically bullying me and jungkook?” “…no comment.”)

🎙️ ask y/n where she gets her leg warmers (talk to my characters!)

📚 why not explore the rest of the library while you're here? (full fics!)

💫 or perhaps you want something shorter to read? (drabbles and mini series!)

🌟 or something even shorter? (teeny tidbits!)

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bratbarzal · 1 month

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On Your Side (NH13) / Chapter Three

Pairing: Nico Hischier x Fem!OC Poppy Jensen*

*I say it's an OC, it's just a name and third person POV. I use minor character descriptions because I don’t get on with writing vague reader inserts/YN for long-form, story heavy fics, but I will generally try to avoid including race and body type or really any physical descriptors. I’m always open to feedback on my writing, or how to be more inclusive.

WC: 13k

Chapter Warnings: angst obviously what would this story be without it, poppy and nico having an overdue conversation, nico moping again with his big sad brown eyes, nico being jealous again, drinking, cursing, meddling friends, being stood up, mentions of controlling parents as always, a little touching maybe a little more kissing too and even more meddling friends

Summary: Poppy Jensen’s job with the New Jersey Devils was supposed to be her first big step into adulthood - a way to prove to herself and her overbearing parents that she could make her own way in life. She was never supposed to become involved with any of the players. Becoming best friends with their captain was stupid. Getting her heart broken by him was tragic. Getting knocked up with his child was just plain messy.

Series Masterlist

Previous Part (Chapter Two)

A/N: I have nothing to say honestly just hope you enjoy I really don't know why I struggled writing most of this despite knowing what I wanted to do with it I think just figuring out how I want certain conversations to go and how to get from a to b is pure stresssss I'm not entirely in love with it but what can you do also proofread her? I hardly know her

but if you have anything to say pls send it my way lmao I'd really like to hear any thoughts or opinions 💓

Poppy

Poppy was once told by her good friend, Kelsey, that she would be able to tell everything she needed to know about a guy by the way they answered one very simple question.

If you could have any superpower, what would it be?

She thinks about it more often than she really should, if she’s honest with herself, but Kelsey’s rationale behind each potential answer is actually a stroke of rare genius - and Poppy often finds herself applying the logic to most people that she encounters.

Guys who say super speed are the ultimate red flag. No one wants a quick finisher, no matter how fast they may be in any other aspect of life. Some things specifically require time and patience. Sacrificing your partner’s satisfaction all to say you can run the world record fastest 5k is the ultimate ick.

There’s an argument to be made for the endurance choosers, it sure has its perks, but Poppy thinks it’s a boring pick. To be given the option of any superpower, and to choose perseverance, of all things? Get a life.

Anyone who chooses x-ray vision is a certified pervert, obviously. The same could be said for those wanting to read minds, although most of the guys Poppy has seen in her life struggle to comprehend the things she says in plain words, never mind whatever nonsense is circling through her inner thoughts.

Those who choose flying are one dimensional, rarely able to see beyond what’s right in front of them, because, if they could, they’d choose the much better option of teleportation.

Who chooses flying when you could just think about somewhere and instantaneously arrive? With your hair in tact and no risk of bumping into any territorial birds.

Teleportation is what Poppy would have picked if anyone would have asked her a week ago, for the mere fact that commuting anywhere is the bane of her entire existence, and if she thinks too hard about it or looks to much into it, it always has been.

She associates it with sitting in the back of her dad’s Bentley as a child, a tangible, frosty silence lingering in the air between her parents after one of their many even-toned arguments disguised as discussions, the fresh pine scent making her car sick and the leather seats making the back of her thighs sticky.

Or the fragile bones of her hand being crushed by her mother’s tight grip as they rode the Amtrak over to Manhattan, Priscilla sneering at anyone who dared step too close on the crowded carriage, Poppy being dragged throughout department stores in the name of mother-daughter bonding time, and clutching to a tiny consolation Macy’s bag housing a sparkly lip gloss like her life depended on it the whole way home.

She thinks of all the hours of her life she’s wasted on the Palisades Parkway, no longer able to enjoy the scenic route whenever she has to drive back to her parent’s house in Alpine after having watched one too many crime shows where a broken down car leads to a girl’s face plastered all over the news.

Even driving to work can feel like hell when the traffic is bad, what should be a 30 minute drive sometimes turning into an hour, Poppy’s fingers cramping around the wheel and her feet itching to touch solid ground after too long.

Teleportation sounds perfect.

And, there’s even a romance element to it. Being whisked away to Paris in the blink of an eye, suddenly sitting outside a boulangerie, decadent, rich hot chocolate on a table in front of her and a plate full of pastries, all because she mentioned a slight craving for a pain au chocolat.

Teleportation has always been the only correct, green-flag answer to the question.

Until Poppy properly considered time travel, that is.

The concept of it has always been a little too much or her to handle - too many strange loopholes, too many bad examples from the sci-fi movies her brother had loved as a kid. Travelling back in time to when her parents were her age and accidentally capturing her adolescent father’s attention à la Marty McFly? Sounds like hell and horror to Poppy.

But that was before she screwed everything up.

If she could have any superpower right now, currently weighed down with the burden of hindsight - which people have always told her is a funny thing, but she thinks is actually somewhat diabolical - she would pick time travel a thousand times over.

Because if human beings have a specific part of their brain that is dedicated to forcing them to sit and stew on their every poor decision for days on end - lets them rethink and regret everything until they’re blue in the face, and can’t think of anything other than how idiotic they have been - it should also offer the kindness of being able to go back and change what they so royally fucked up.

That’s what Poppy thinks, at least, as she throws herself down onto her bed, her back hitting the duvet in a whoosh and all she can do is stare at the ceiling and wonder how and when she became such a certified moron.

There’s a part of her that suspects it’s in her genes. Inevitable. Unavoidable. Nature and nurture, she was born and raised to be a full blown fool.

Poppy comes from a long line of privilege, and while it does take a certain element of intelligence to amass the wealth her family has, it also tends to go hand in hand with ignorance in its many forms.

Behind every fortuitous business move her father makes are a million other mistakes - failed ventures, bad investments, shoddy pieces of advice accepted from the untrustworthy snakes he surrounds himself with. Hidden beneath every rung of the social ladders her mother has managed to climb, there are the ugly faux-pas’ slipping through the cracks of a former, more unsavoury life she can never run too far from. And her brother - well, she suspects he’s just an idiot, there are no two ways about it.

She knows that she needs to stop blaming her family, though. This time, it’s all her.

She can’t blame her father for the way she overthinks, the man who makes every decision in life with the littlest regard for how anyone else feels about it. She can’t blame her mother for the way she places such little value on herself, the woman who walks into every room like she owns it and refuses to let anyone make her think otherwise.

Except maybe she can.

If she had the nerve to talk to a therapist, they might disagree - might say her overthinking comes from her dad’s lack of communication skills, a part of her brain always filling in the gaps of a half-assed, other side of any conversation with him. Or they might say her insecurities come from her mom constantly putting Poppy down while telling her to be more sure of herself - stop slouching, Poppy, no one will take you seriously with the posture of a candy cane.

She’d love to know where her need to repress her feelings so deep that she becomes an impenetrable, cold, dark fortress comes from. The need to push and shove when someone tries to get too close, because God forbid anything is ever easy when it comes to her affections.

It would have made the past 4 days since Nico had walked into her apartment and kissed the life out of her a whole lot easier.

4 days spent reminiscing, rethinking and regretting every single thing she had said and done since their lips parted, since he had put his heart on the line and she’d whacked it away, full swing, as if too desperate for the victory of a last-bat home run.

If she could time travel, she’d do the whole thing over.

“Don’t go on that date, Mohn.”

She had read the words on his lips before they registered through her ears, the sound of her blood rushing throughout her body occupying every sense for a brief moment.

What the hell is going on?

Nico had kissed her. He’d grabbed her, pulled her into him, and she’s pretty sure he had made her heart stop for a good second - there’s no other justifiable reason for the way it had been reverberating against her ribcage ever since.

And then he stood before her, a desperate, pleading projection playing in his dark irises, lips still slick from where her own had just been, cheeks flushed, shoulders rising with subtle panting breaths, waiting for a response to a question she couldn’t even remember hearing.

“W-what?” She’d stuttered, blinking hard and shaking her head as if to rattle her brain into whatever semblance of cognisance she could muster.

Nico had kissed her, and then wanted to talk? As if she had the brain power left for any kind of discussion after that?

He seemed proud of the mess he had made of her, lips lifting at one side, drawing her gaze immediately to every movement they made, so focused on the memory of how pillowy-soft they had felt against hers that she didn’t notice him stepping a little closer, raising a large hand to tuck her hair behind her ear until she flinched at the contact.

“Sunday, Poppy,” he had uttered, unfazed by her skittishness, “Your date, don’t go.”

She had blinked again, completely overwhelmed on every front. She could still taste him on her tongue, he was so close she could smell his cologne, tunnel vision only seeing him in front of her and the hand that cupped the side of her face in her peripheral, her heartbeat echoing through her skull and every nerve, every slight hair on her body, standing as if trying to close the distance between his body and hers.

It was the sensory overload that made her go against all other instincts.

“I can’t.” Her voice had sounded like it hadn’t been used in weeks, croaky and unsure, her next words stammered, “I can’t not go, I mean. I have to go.”

“You don’t have to go, Poppy,”

“No, I do.” That had sounded a little surer, the fog in her brain slowly clearing only for something more tumultuous to pass through in it’s place. “I don’t understand what’s happening.”

Nico blinked once, then again, frustration clear in the furrow of his thick brows as he seemed to stew on his next words, desperate to say the right thing. There was a prolonged, tense beat, before he had asked, “Have you ever thought we could be more?”

“More?”

“More than friends.”

If her heart hadn’t stopped when he had kissed her, it must have stopped then.

His back straight, eyes looking directly into hers, a hopeful, inquisitive gleam shining from within them - he had never seemed so sure of something for as long as she had known him.

Poppy couldn’t stop the little voice in her head questioning, where the hell has this come from?

“Have you?” She had asked with a eyre of disbelief.

Not once in the years she had known him had he ever made it seem like they could be more. There had always been an unspeakable, undeniable barrier between them. They were friends. They’d always been friends. Just friends.

Friends who spent most of their free, personal time together, friends who bought each other sentimental gifts they’d never get for anyone else, who shared intimate details about their lives and their pasts, and kissed each others heads like a goodbye ritual. Friends who broke each other’s hearts, seemingly beyond repair, without explanation.

“I think so.”

“You think so?”

“I mean,” He had paused, breaking eye contact for a second as if wracking his brain for the right answer, sensing a teetering tension between the two of them. “Yeah. Yes. I have.”

She had narrowed her eyes at him, weighing up the possibility in her mind that she wouldn’t have liked any response he gave to her, every prospective answer causing a flood of doubt and uncertainty to crash in rushing, destructive waves through her mind. “Since when?” She’d asked, trying to level her bite.

If he’d ever thought they could be more, what the hell have they been doing all this time?

“Since I met you, I think,” he had shrugged.

Wrong answer, again.

“And you only bring it up when I have a date with someone else?”

She watched a series of antithetical emotions pass through his features, understanding, confusion, acceptance, denial, resilience, cowardice. He had seemed to find the small margins between all of them, when he had come back with, “It’s not because of your date, Poppy.”

“Then why?” She tilted her head as she continued to analyse him, again not sure what she was looking for, or what she wanted to find. That something tumultuous was already whirling within her, too late to be stopped, and Nico could seemingly see the warning signs.

“Why are you getting mad at me, right now?”

“I’m not mad,” she had denied, not even knowing if she was lying or not, “I’m confused. 2 weeks ago, we weren’t even talking, Nico-,”

“You said you forgave me for that.”

“I didn’t-.” She’d cut herself off before she could say something that would upset him, the conversation spiralling so far out of control from the momentary bliss he had provided only minutes ago - but she was too far up shit’s creek without a paddle, there was no turning back. She’d been wanting to have a proper conversation with Nico all week, what better time than the middle of the night on what was now his birthday? “That’s not exactly what I said.”

He had taken a step back, lips parting with an unreleased gasp, the once-hopeful glint in his eyes transforming into hurt. “You don’t forgive me?”

“I didn’t say that either,” she sighed, wanting answers, not to cause him anguish. “Please don’t put words in my mouth.”

“Then tell me what the hell is wrong? What are you saying?”

“I’m saying I don’t understand where this has come from, Nico! You come in here and kiss me out of nowhere and tell me not to date other people and I’m just supposed to blindly follow along when I don’t get what the hell is happening with you!”

“I think me kissing you makes it pretty obvious what I want to happen, Mohn.” He had tried to ease the tension, his voice level and steady, stepping forward with his hands raised in an attempt to calm her, but she had taken a slight step back, clearly unaffected.

“It doesn’t.” She’d stopped looking at him at that point, keeping an eye on his feet to watch his encroaching steps. “Nothing about you is obvious. You don’t tell me anything and all I can think about is what I did wrong.”

If he couldn’t see the tears pooling at her lashes, he had to have heard the break in her voice - a sure indicator that she was close to crying - but his steps had stopped, feet seemingly stuck to their place on the hardwood flooring of Poppy’s apartment, and she could feel her heart shatter knowing he wasn’t persisting again.

“You didn’t do anything wrong.” He tries to reassure her, but it’s no use.

Maybe she would have believed him if he’d held her while he said it, transferred the meaning through touch to her skin, gripping her with every word until she truly understood the weight of them.

“It had to have been something. You don’t just stop wanting to know a person for no reason, Nico, so what was it?” She made her way to her couch, perching on the edge of the seat with her knees pressed together, and looked over to where he remained standing.

She could feel her temper flaring again.

How could he have the nerve to do this to her - to turn her world upside down in a matter of minutes - and not have the answers she needed to accept it?

“Poppy-,”

“I need to know. I can’t drop it and forget about it, and I’m sorry that I made it seem like I could, but if you want us to move on from this, if you want to come here and kiss me like that, and tell me you don’t want me seeing other people, I need to know what happened.”

“I-,” Nico sighed heavily, shoulders drooping, any confidence and bravado he had displayed after their kiss now a distant memory. “I don’t know.”

She had an immediate, striking thought, that maybe if she asked closed questions, he could give her an answer, and so, with misplaced courage, she asked, “Was it her?”

“What?”

“Your girlfriend. Did she ask you to stop talking to me?”

It was a thought that had been plaguing her for longer than she’d like to admit - unable to shake the idea that maybe Talia had seen one of the texts she had sent, had gone through Nico’s phone and seen any of their older messages, any photos he might have kept on his phone, maybe a memory had come up from snapchat, maybe someone had mentioned Poppy and her curiosity had been piqued.

Poppy had always thought if she was dating someone, and they had a Poppy, she might feel some type of way about it.

But her and Nico were just friends.

Nico rounded the couch, sitting on the cushion beside Poppy, their knees knocking as he reached into her lap and took her shaking hands in his.

“Do you really think I’d stop talking to you just because someone asked me to?” Their eyes had met again, sadness brewing in the dark coffee colour surrounding his dilated pupils, and a glassy film coating her own. “Poppy, I would never.”

“I don’t know what to think, Nico, because you won’t tell me.”

“Because it doesn’t make sense! I try wrapping my head around it, try coming up with some kind of explanation, but nothing I say is going to change what I did to you, Poppy.”

Her question before had gotten her an honest response, had elicited something real and undeniable within him - he’d never stop talking to her because someone asked him to. So it was his own decision, subconscious or not. Maybe she could help dig further, she thought.

“Why did you kiss me?” She asked after a beat.

“I,” Nico pondered over it before rushing his answer, a wave of emotion flashing across his face before his eyes locked on hers, ready to let her in. “Because I wanted to.”

That was a start - a simple question, a straightforward answer.

“Was that the first time that you wanted to?”

“No.”

Poppy could feel some semblance of confidence coming back. Closed questions, concrete answers, she could keep this up.

“When was the last time you wanted to kiss me?”

She could have asked the first - she sure as hell wanted to know it, but if he’d thought of being more the entire time they’d known each other, there was a lingering possibility there were many times - and they would be there until sunrise if they started from the beginning.

“Finnegan’s.”

“The bar?”

“We went there when we came back after we crashed out of the playoffs, do you remember?”

She remembered.

It had only been a couple of days before Nico had left for his summer back home in Switzerland.

Their loss in Carolina had been devastating, the boys came back broken and defeated, and all just wanted to drown their sorrows before they broke for their off-season. Poppy had been out with Nia and Kelsey and a few other friends at another bar when Jack had responded to her instagram story, saying they’d be at the Irish pub that was a staple within the team, and she should come over and join them.

She had made her way over pretty late, wanting to make sure her friends were okay without her, and arrived when most of the boys were completely shit-faced, past the point of tears and moping and deep into a mass state of hysteria and loud jubilation for the successes along the way.

She had found Nico in a booth in the far corner of the bar, head slumped over the back, eyes seemingly tracing the cracks in the ceiling until she crawled into the bench behind him, leaned over with her elbows resting on either side of his head, and took up his entire view.

“What’cha doin’?” She’d asked, lips twisting at the sight of his dizzy eyes trying to correct themselves to focus on her.

He’d quickly given up, pressing his eyes closed to shut out the risk of nausea taking over, the outer corners crinkling, the sides of his nose scrunching and his eyelashes fanning a shadow over his cheekbones - her own eyes were level with his lips, so he couldn’t really hide the way they curved at the quick glimpse of her.

“Suffering,” he had muttered, squinting one eye open to catch a brief, upside down glance of her. Nico was never this down after a few drinks. He was giggly, he was loud, he was touchy and clumsy - he was never the hide away in the corner sad type. “Wanna join me?”

“Always.” She affirmed, making her way around to his side of the booth and sliding in beside him until her bare thigh pressed against the somewhat scratchy linen of the pants he wore.

“I’m probably not the best company tonight,” He remained in the same position, neck craning so the base of his head could rest atop the back of the seat, and his eyes closed - giving Poppy the perfect opportunity to properly look him over.

The few moments they’d had together, alone, over the past few weeks, he’d been pent up, stressed, overworked and on the brink of eruption, so this was the first time in a long time she’d managed to catch him without the weight of the world on his shoulders.

Only, that weight wasn’t so easy to shift.

She saw it in the bags under his eyes, in the unkempt playoff beard he was yet to shave off, in the stuttered way his chest rose and fell with his attempts at deep, calming breaths.

As she watched him, the corner of her lip tucked between her teeth in contemplation, she knew there was nothing she could say to make him feel better about this. He just had to feel it out, process it in his own way without her interference - but she wanted to be there, at least.

And as much as she wanted to tell him it wasn’t his fault, that he did the best he could, and led his team through one of their strongest seasons in recent franchise history, she wanted to provide him comfort in the quiet, too.

“I don’t mind.”

And so, with little trepidation, she placed a hand on his chest, over his heart, and rested her head next to it, glancing up to see the push of a dimple forming on his cheek as his arm stretched around her and welcomed her into his warm embrace.

“You wanted to kiss me then?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, “Didn’t seem like the right time, though,” he followed up with an answer to a question she hadn’t even asked, yet. “I was leaving too soon and I didn’t want you to think I’d just kissed you because I was drunk and upset.”

Her eyes moved to his lips, a question for herself whirling around in her head. Would she have wanted him to kiss her then? What would have happened in the aftermath? Where would they be now? Would she have thought that? Would she have spent her summer stewing over what it meant, and how his lips had felt against hers?

Before she had much time to think it over, Nico continued, being spurred on by such a distinct memory that he was rolling towards the answer she had been waiting for, and she wasn’t going to stop him to try and decipher her own feelings.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you when I went home, thinking about wanting to kiss you, or not kissing you, and what it all would mean, and I kept trying to distract myself thinking I could just figure it all out when I came back here but then I met Talia, and I felt wrong for thinking about you when I had her.”

That had made sense. Nico was always a guy that would do the right thing. If he had a girlfriend, he wouldn’t think of the prospect of something with someone else, even if that someone was Poppy, and that something was a culmination of years of pent up feelings finally coming together to form something potentially wonderful.

She didn’t quite need or want to hear the rest. Didn’t want to hear how he’d gone looking for a distraction, and found just that.

Nico was loyal, and for him to maintain that essence of himself, he had to ignore the possibility of Poppy. Some subconscious part within him saw her as a threat to the stability he had with the perfect girl from back home, and he boxed her away to make room for what could be with Talia.

It stung, but he was right. Neither of them could change what had already happened.

“Do you think you could ever forgive me?”

She’d nodded after only a second, barely even thinking about it.

Jack’s words from New Years Eve rang through her, suck it up and move on.

Nico had his reasons, she had her answers. He wasn’t bored of her, wasn’t tired of her or annoyed by her. He’d been so caught up by his unspoken, untranslated feelings for her that he twisted himself into untangle-able knots that were only just starting to loosen up enough to be picked apart.

“Could you maybe say it?”

“Yeah, I could.” she had said through trembling lips, the hurt in his voice burrowing through her eardrums, lodging itself in her own throat, and dripping slowly but surely into the depths of her chest. “I will.” She had to be more sure, needing to erase any doubt she had planted within him. “I do.”

“You do?”

He still held her hands in his from when he had sat down, palms warm and slightly perspirant from his tight grip around her knuckles.

“I forgive you.”

His mouth twitched into a shaky smile, his eyes catching the soft light and twinkling with emotion, and she definitely wanted to kiss him, then.

She had wondered if this is what he felt when he’d kissed her before, this burning need. Her fingers twitched in his hold, her heart thudded in her chest, and her lips parted in anticipation, until she could finally slam the breaks on her torpedoing thoughts.

“It’s just a lot to process, and I don’t really know how I feel.”

She had wished she could take it back as soon as the words left her mouth, and Nico’s features had folded as he took them in. He broke eye contact almost immediately, head dropping to look down at their hands until he released hers back into her lap.

“I get it.” He uttered, forcing a smile as he glanced back up at her, briefly. “I sprung this on you out of nowhere, I’m s-,”

“Please don’t apologise,” she interrupted before he could go there, knowing it would send her brain into overdrive if he let even the thought of regret fester between them, “I’m glad you did. I don’t want you to be sorry about it.”

Relief washed over the both of them in a warm, steady stream as he nodded, leaning into the back of the couch, legs spreading as an elongated sigh wracked through his torso.

He ran a hand through his hair, and Poppy’s eyes flickered to the flex of his fingers, the strain of his wrist, the flash of protruding veins where his sleeve had pulled up with the stretch of his movements.

His eyes closed, and she took him in just like she had that night in Finnegan’s bar.

She’d had an urge then, a desire even, to provide comfort - to share his burdens, make him forget the pain he had just endured, wash it all away with encouraging words, gentle touches. A shoulder to cry on, two ears to listen, and, albeit she didn’t entirely know it at the time, a whole heart that was his for the taking.

And take it, he did, held it all summer, bent it all sorts of ways out of shape up until New Years Eve, and it was still in his hands. Smushed, dented, squeezed to within an inch of his life, her heart was his.

It was up to her now to figure out what she wanted him to do with it.

“I made a promise to my mom about the date, Nico, I have to go.”

“Yeah,” he sighed, seemingly resigned to the fact he had maybe been a little too lost in the moment to make such a crazy demand of her.

“And I think maybe we both need a little time to properly think about what is happening here.”

“Time?” He practically shot up, alarm in his eyes.

“We’ve barely been apart all week, Nico, I think that might be why we’re both so,” she struggled for the right word - pent up, emotional, strung out, “Intense.”

She had known she was emotional, overthinking to the point of ruin, but maybe he was too. Maybe that’s what had led to the kiss, to the outburst of sentiment. They were both in the depths of a pressure cooker of emotions, and some space might do them good to gain a little clarity.

Maybe with a little more time to think on it, to consider what he was admitting to, have a little breathing room, and act more on something concrete than a fleeting in-the-moment feeling, he might change his mind. He deserved the opportunity to do so, she wouldn’t hold it against him.

“How much time do you think you would need?”

“I’m driving up to my parent’s house on Friday, so I would have been away for most of the weekend anyway, maybe we check back in on Monday and see where our heads are at?”

“4 days,” he muttered as if he’d just counted them in his head. “I can do that.”

“Yeah?” He had nodded in response, and there was something like hope that lingered between them, sharing small smiles and gazing through glassy eyes. “You’ll be so busy you won’t even get the chance to miss me.”

She believed it to be true - Nico had his family over, would be spending the latter end of the day with them, and had 2 big home games in a row to worry about. Poppy would be the last thing on his mind.

If she had blinked in the moment, she might have missed the way his observation slipped to her lips, lingered there for a brief second, and glanced back up to flicker between her eyes again. “Not possible.”

“Poppy, have you suffered some kind of brain injury I don’t know about?” Nia’s voice rings through the speaker of the phone pressed to her ear, already supposedly-styled hair fanned out around her as she lays staring at the ceiling, willing herself to get up and go before she’s late.

No matter how much she doesn’t want to go on this date, her mother will kill her if she hears anything other than a glowing review. On time, preened to perfection, polite and sociable.

“Maybe I hit my head in my sleep at some point,” she thinks out loud, glancing back to the sharp edges of her bedside table and wondering if she could have thudded into it in the night.

Surely she would have a scar or a bruise.

“You must have,” Nia agrees, “That’s the only logical explanation why you’d ever consider telling the guy you’ve been hung up on since you first met him that you need time to think about how you feel,”

“Ni,” Poppy groans, “I called you for advice, not a lecture.”

“If you play stupid games, you win stupid prizes, and you my friend, are a dumbass.”

“In my defence-,”

“Nope!” Poppy doesn’t know what Nia is doing on the other end, but she hears something clatter as if being slammed down on a table in protest, “There is no defence, you’re an idiot.”

“I didn’t know how I felt about it, Ni,” Poppy sighs, sitting up and catching sight of herself in the mirror. She doesn’t know why so much of her time tonight has been wasted trying to look so good when she doesn’t even want to. When she’d gone to visit her parents, her mother had practically given her a full blown rundown of the guy she was meeting.

Tucker Lyon, she can’t help to instinctively roll her eyes at just his name, works in investment grade finance for one of the Big 4 - she hadn’t cared enough to ask which one. His family are property people, her mom had said, and own enough Manhattan real estate to hold some serious power. Priscilla had met his mother years ago at some luncheon in the city, and apparently the two had been in cahoots since then to set their children up.

Poppy doesn’t want to be set up with some walking red flag, biting her tongue over a plate of food too small to satisfy her hunger while he mansplains stocks and shares to her.

She wants to be in whatever bar the guys are holed up in, tucked under Nico’s arm, side practically glued to his, sipping cocktails and celebrating him like he deserves to be celebrated.

But instead, she can admit, she has been a royal idiot.

“I still don’t know, it’s all come at me full force and I don’t understand my feelings.”

“Bullshit!” Nia scoffs, “You knew you were into him the second he first flashed those dimples your way.”

She isn’t entirely wrong.

Poppy had once harboured a slight crush on him. In the very early stages of their friendship. One small enough that when she realised it was completely one-sided - and she was being delusional to ever think his cute nickname for her and his insistence on spending time only with her was anything more than his attempt to make a friend - she could swallow it down until it was barely anything.

She trained her heart not to stutter when he approached her, told her brain to shut up when he flashed her one of those perfect, all consuming smiles, and could cross her arms to restrain her hands from wanting to hold his whenever they walked side by side.

She’d become so good at suppressing her feelings, she’d forgotten she had them.

She had forgotten all the times they had hung out alone over the years, never second guessing all the looks and the touches, the times he’d let her stay over if it got too late to go home alone, and the times he’d waltz into hers like he owned the place.

She’d forgotten when she had seen him with Talia, always claiming the feeling in her gut was one of loss and reminiscence, not envy and bitterness.

She’d forgotten when the Hughes brothers had helped her move a couple months ago, and Luke had questioned the amount of Nico he was helping to scatter throughout her apartment. Pictures on her bookshelf, pictures stuck to her fridge with souvenir magnets from Swiss gift shops, a couple hoodies, Devils branded shorts and big t-shirts of his he’d come across in the boxes.

“I didn’t realise you and Cap were so close,” Luke had picked a frame out of one of the boxes, the picture of Nico and Poppy at the Halloween party inside, and waved it in her direction as she stood with her hands on her hips, figuring out if she wanted to alphabetise or colour code the books she was displaying.

“Huh?” Poppy tilted her head towards the tall boy, watching as he shook his curls back into place and ran a hand through them. He’d worked up a bit of a sweat lugging her boxes upstairs, and now that everything was finally moved, Jack had gone to get them food, and Poppy and Luke were getting started on unpacking the easy stuff. She looked to the picture in hand, reaching over and taking it to get a closer look. “I guess we were, I don’t really know.” She wasn't a good enough actress to properly pull off the nonchalance she was aiming for.

“You don’t know?” Luke scoffed, rifling through other pictures in the box - all framed, mostly of her and Nico, some just the two of them, some of them in groups, but always side by side. Always grinning ear to ear. “You’ve got like a shrine in here, PJ,”

“It’s not a shrine,” she had argued, “You don’t keep pictures of your friends? Sounds kind of cold, if you ask me, Moosey.”

“I keep pictures on instagram and my phone like a normal person.” He chuckled.

“Generational gap, you kids are done for when the cloud goes down, you know. Physical media is forever.”

“You sound like my mom.” Luke jibed, and true to his nature, unable to stop himself before he inadvertently crossed a line, he asked with a weird wiggle of his eyebrows, “So, you wanna keep Nico forever, huh?”

“Shut up, Luke.” If Poppy had something soft enough, she would have thrown it at his head. The photo frame in hand seemed like overkill, and she didn’t want to hurt the kid, just make him stop. She didn’t much like talking about him, what they once had, what they once were. Even if he did have the wrong impression of what they were. It was upsetting, and she didn’t want to get upset - not in front of Luke. “You can keep those in the box.”

Luke had reached out for the frame in Poppy’s grasp, had watched as she hesitated giving it back, as she looked down and took in the huge smiles on her and Nico’s faces, and as she made the decision not to put this one back. Maybe she could phase it out, wait until she took a nicer, more meaningful picture with someone else before she replaced that one.

“I’ll keep this one out. I look cute.”

"Sure." His sarcasm was not entirely appreciated.

She had heard him chuckle to himself as she stood the frame on one of the shelves, placing it between a scented candle she had no intention of ever lighting and a small faux lavender plant. Not shrine-like at all.

She’d forgotten about any suppressed feelings until Nico kissed her.

Until he opened up Pandora’s box, releasing all her pent up emotions to roam freely, creating chaos and causing havoc through every corner of her entire existence.

For the past 3 days, she’s thought about him with everything she has done.

On Thursday afternoon, sat alone in her office, going over emails and wondering what he would be up to with his family. Was he happy, were they having fun, did he think about her for a second?

On Friday evening, driving alone on the long winding roads to her parent’s house and listening to the commentary for the game on the radio. Making it to the house in time for the 3rd period, and seeing the team celebrate. Was he well rested, excited for his family to watch him play at home, did he look up into the staff suite at the Rock and wish she was there cheering him on?

On Saturday, retreating to her childhood bedroom after another tense family dinner, snuggling up with the dogs on her bed as she watched the game. Was he beating himself up, had he gone straight home on his own after the loss, did he have the same urge to call her as much as she wanted to call him?

Did he, on any of those nights, lay awake thinking about that kiss?

About how right it had felt? How he had exerted his subtle dominance over her with such ease, large hands encompassing her face and holding her to his lips like his life depended on it?

Did he think about where it could have gone if she hadn’t shut him down? Where they could be if he’d made a move before?

She’s been thinking about it. Non-stop thinking about it.

Thinking about that kiss, and the possibility of others - the moment in the bar, all the other potential moments he had wanted to kiss her and hadn’t. The fact that maybe her feelings had never been one sided, and she’s wasted years pushing them down for nothing.

“Do you think I made a mistake not cancelling this date?” She asks her friend in a moment of vulnerability, her mind reeling with the possibility that she has already fucked up what could be.

“No.” Nia assures her, surprisingly. She’s been calling her an idiot all night, what does she mean, ‘no’? “I think he needs to sweat a little, let him think about you out tonight with another guy, and come tomorrow, his mind will be made up.”

“You don’t think we might be overestimating how much it bothers him?”

“Don’t make me call you a dumbass again, Pop.” Poppy can hear the rolling of her best friend’s eyes through the phone. “And send me a picture of your outfit before you leave.”

Nico

Nico has never been so physically uncomfortable in his life.

For a man who plays contact sport for a living - has played it for a good chunk of his existence, and has suffered countless knocks and injuries, slept in one too many uncomfortable positions in planes, buses, trains and even hotel beds, and who’s face has had more than enough encounters with the wrong end of a pair of skates - that is saying a lot.

But every inch of him, every fibre of his entire being, feels irritated in some way.

It’s a feeling like unforeseen static shocks passing over every surface of his skin. Like little bugs crawling all over him and he can’t swat them away. Like random strands of fine hairs that can’t be seen by the naked eye but God, can he feel them. He feels them everywhere.

From the top of his head to the tips of his toes, he feels something prickling, stinging, burning.

Itchy.

Like a scratch he can’t reach in the very middle of his back.

And it’s not like he doesn’t know what it is.

He’s felt it ever since he left Poppy’s apartment in the early hours of Thursday morning. He had hardly slept, getting maybe 3 or 4 hours in before his alarm shrilled from where it charged on his nightstand.

He has tried to use the same coping mechanisms that get him through his bouts of homesickness - where he closes his eyes and tries to provoke a memory for each sense.

He pictures the views from one of his many hikes, endless fields of green grass, crystal clear lakes, winding footpaths and mountains that stretch as far as the eye can see. He imagines gathering around a fondue table back in his favourite restaurant, and can smell the freshly baked bread, can taste the melt-in-the-mouth flavour once it’s been dipped in oozing, melted cheese. He can feel the softness of the freshly washed sheets back in his childhood bedroom and can hear the chorused chirps of the birds outside his window in the early mornings.

It’s a technique that has helped ground him in the past, and he had thought that maybe if he applies the same logic, it will dull the ache in his fingertips that yearn to reach for his phone and text the girl who has asked him for space.

If he thinks hard enough, he can still taste the sweet but subtle vanilla of Poppy’s lip balm. He can smell the fresh-cotton essence of her laundry detergent, can hear the melodic sounds she had hummed into his lips, can feel the softness of her skin on the pads of his fingers, can see, clear as day, the dazed expression etched into her features like she had gotten caught up in the fantasy too.

If it wasn’t so easy for him to mentally transport himself back, he wouldn’t have been able to make it 4 days without seeing her.

He had known it would be hard, but, thankfully, he thinks he got himself enough of a fix to make it to Monday.

He’d taken all he could with just one press of his lips to hers, had taken more of Poppy than he had ever dared to take before, and his subconscious was clinging onto it for dear life, hoping with everything in him she could decide to give him more.

4 days.

He has never known time to be so cruel. For it to drag out every minute like it was an hour.

If his life had a remote control, best believe he would be jamming the hell out of the fast forward button. 4x speed, skip to the next chapter, not wanting or needing to know what happened in the in-between.

He’s always thought himself to have patience - good things come to those who wait, after all - but this had become the ultimate test.

He had tried to immerse himself in whatever was going on each day, hoping they would pass quicker, less painfully, but it had been no use.

His birthday had passed by in a dizzying blur. He’d had a late morning skate, had come home to his family waiting for him, had gone to dinner with them, caught up over Italian food in one of his favourite spots by his apartment, and had driven his parents, his sister and her boyfriend back to their hotel with the promise of dedicating some time to them before the game on Friday.

Every single thing had reminded him of her.

Being at the Rock and wondering where in the building she might be, and if she was reminded of him with the littlest things. If she was thinking about him, what she was thinking about him. Seeing his family, imagining her place at the table as they all exchanged laughter and stories over pasta and wine. Thinking about what she might contribute to the conversation, how she would get along with his sister, how they’d gang up on him and poke fun, but she’d hold his hand under the table and squeeze to let him know it was all in good humour.

In the locker room after the win against the Blackhawks, trying his best to get involved in the celebrations but just wanting to call her, to hear that she had watched, and was proud of him and the team. And even after the loss against the Canucks, he wanted to hear the same. He wanted to go straight to her place, the passenger seat of his car painfully empty as he drove himself home in complete silence.

And he had tried his best not to get too into his head about the whole space thing.

Poppy was right, after all. Things had gotten intense.

He had been intense - marching over to her place and kissing her out of nowhere. As right as it had felt, it was stupid. It was hotheaded and impulsive and it wasn’t considerate of her feelings.

But, God, he was so caught up on her he couldn’t help himself. He should have seen in the days they had spent together prior that they needed to speak more about everything before he threw himself at her like a neanderthal.

He’d only considered what conclusion he had reached, and as much as his conversation with the guys on the plane gave him an idea of Poppy’s mindset, some words needed to be exchanged before he planted one straight on her. The whole thing could have gone so much better if he just knew how to communicate everything with her properly.

Even before the kiss. Before New Years, before Talia, before Summer - if he knew how to speak about his developing feelings for her, this whole mess could have been avoided.

He wouldn’t be sat alone in a bar, yet again, as his friends surround him, partaking in the celebrations that are supposed to revolve around him, wallowing in self pity.

He wouldn’t be thinking about Poppy, out in some fancy restaurant somewhere else in the city, with some stick-up-his-ass loser who doesn’t deserve a second of her time, and imagining her giving him one of those earth shattering smiles - the one where her the outside of her eyes crinkle in the corners, and every time he sees it he imagines the lines settling there as she ages, and it’s always a version of the two of them, old and grey, side by side, smiling together.

He imagines her taking him back to her apartment, curling up with him on the couch Nico helped her haul up the stairs after she had found it for crazy cheap off of some sketchy ad on Facebook marketplace. He sees her slowly replacing all those pictures she has of her and Nico with pictures of her and him, phasing him out of her space like she would eventually phase him out of his life.

He thinks about her taking him to her bedroom - the one he had yet to see in her new apartment, but imagines it’s just like her old one; way too many pillows and throws, a thick, plush duvet that looks like she’s climbing into a cloud, and a beat up stuffed toy her grandmother had given her when she was young.

He doesn’t want to wish that Poppy is currently welcoming someone into her life that doesn’t suit her, but he can’t help himself.

He hopes this guy is late - and doesn’t even apologise for it. He hopes he orders off the menu for her, or criticises her choice of wine for not pairing with her choice of food like a complete snob. He hopes he’s awful to wait-staff. He hopes he’s type of guy who writes a suggestion on the tip line of his receipt instead of leaving a minimum of 20%. He hopes he chews with his mouth open, spits when he talks and scrapes his knife along the ceramic of his plate as he cuts his food, causing that toe curling sound that makes Poppy want to scream.

He hopes he doesn’t offer her his jacket, because she always refuses to take one out. He hopes he doesn’t think to give her a piggy back, because she always wears shoes out she knows she doesn’t want to walk in, but always wants to walk home if it’s nice out. He hopes he walks on the inside of the sidewalk, leaving her to the dangers of walking roadside, and walks too quick for her to keep up with little regard for how she likes to take her time on a night and stretch the evening out.

He even hopes he smokes. Poppy hates smokers. And if, God forbid, they kiss, he’ll have smoker’s breath, and she won’t want to do it again.

She won’t stand in front of him, eyes glazed over, lashes fluttering, brows furrowing, lips still pouting and fingers twitching to reach back out, yearning for more.

She won’t even kiss him back.

Not like she had kissed Nico. Not like she had clutched at his shirt like she wanted to hold him close to her forever. He wouldn’t get to hear that sweet, subdued sound she had made when his tongue had swiped tentatively at hers, or feel that slight pressure of when her lips had closed around it, sucking almost at the muscle before opening back up to allow for more of a taste.

No one else can get that.

No one else will savour it like Nico has, thinking about is for days on end, replaying the moment over and over until he has perfect recall of every small detail.

It’s probably a good thing she hasn’t shared much detail about this date, Nico thinks as he swirls the ice around his empty drink, sat right at the bar away from the sectioned-off area that Timo had rented out for the party.

If he knew more about it - about the who, about the where - he probably would be in a cab by now, knowing he was crossing a line but unable to do anything about it, his will outweighing any common courtesy just as it had a few nights ago. Or he would have spent the last few days in a google deep-dive, trying to figure out the kind of man her mother would approve of. Enough to set her up, at least - he doubts Priscilla Jensen entirely approves of anyone.

Nico finally makes eye contact with the bartender, and as she starts to make her way over, he feels like a divine intervention occurs - an arm falling onto the bar top beside his, a glimmer of metal flashing into his dark eyes - the reflection bouncing from a bracelet that is welded around the base of a slender hand.

“I’ll take another of these,” he lifts his glass when the bartender arrives, gesturing to the old fashioned he’d somehow landed on over beer tonight, “And whatever she’s having, please.”

“Vodka diet coke, please,” a voice rings out from beside him, and once the bartender busies herself with the order, she asks, “Shouldn’t I be the one getting you a drink? I heard it’s your birthday,”

“Why should either of us pay when it’s going on a tab?” He chuckles, angling his body better to face her.

“Ooh la-la, a tab,” Nia mocks, “Now I feel like I’m a part of an elite club!”

“I find it hard to believe you’ve never had your drinks put on someone else’s tab before.”

“Not the New Jersey Devils captain himself, it’s such an honour!” She raises a manicured hand and presses it to her chest, a playful smile etched into her features.

“Did you come over here just to poke fun at me?” Nico asks, touching on the dynamic that has long been between the two of them. She mocks him, mostly all bark and no bite, he takes it on the chest, knowing she’s doing it from of her warped version of almost sibling-like love, and Poppy usually acts as the mostly-unnecessary mediator, dividing her attention between them both.

“Of course I did,” she affirms, “You looked all mopey and miserable, how could I not?”

“How is me waiting for a drink ‘mopey’?”

“Uh, let me think,” she taps her finger to her chin, before lifting it to point at each feature she references, “The huge pout on your lips, your giant caterpillar eyebrows all slanted and frowny-,”

“Forget I asked,” he mutters, lifting his lips into a quick smile and thanking the girl behind the bar as she brings them their drinks. “Didn’t know you’d be out tonight,”

“I’ll be sure to send you an e-vite to my google calendar when I get home later.”

Nico’s throat tightens slightly at how similar Nia and Poppy are - always quick with a response, most of the time sarcastic, most of the time able to elicit a genuine laugh to rumble from the depths of his chest. “I see why you and Poppy are so close.”

“Hm,” she hums, making a show of checking her phone, “You barely made it two minutes, but it could be a new record.”

“A new record?”

“For how long you can go in conversation without mentioning her.”

“She’s your best friend, the one person we have in common, it’s normal for me to bring her up, Nia.” He reaches for his drink to take a gulp, hoping the ice might make his throat feel a little better.

He doesn’t even know why he’s denying his lack of willpower when it comes to Poppy - 2 minutes actually seems like quite the achievement when he thinks about how long he’s restrained himself from reaching out over the past 4 days. Nia approaching him like this has been the perfect excuse to think about her - to talk about her without feeling like he’s overstepping or assuming.

He could use this to his advantage.

“Is she a good kisser?”

Or not.

He chokes on his drink, thankful the liquid isn’t coming out of his nose with how much he hadn’t been expecting that question.

“She looks like she would be. I’ve always thought about it but there’s never been a right time to try it out. Maybe I should take a leaf outta your book and lay it on thick and fast when she least expects it.”

How he even thought he could gain advantage in this conversation is beyond belief. He’s out of his depth with Nia, as usual. She isn’t afraid to call him out - she never has been - and she’s the one person in the world Poppy would confide in. Of course she knows about the kiss.

“Is that what she said, I laid it on thick and fast,”

“Wouldn’t you like to know, lover boy.” She chuckles, picking up her cocktail and stepping away from him, “Thanks for the drink, Nico, try to enjoy the rest of your birthday party.”

“Wait!” He reaches out to stop her, not wanting to let a golden opportunity slip from his hands so easily. “You would have bought me a drink before, for my birthday?”

“I think you earn about 5 times my annual salary in a month, so probably not.”

“How about you answer a question for me?” He proposes, “As a gift.”

“I could,” she sighs, sitting down in the stool beside him, “But I heard you get touchy after gifts.”

He immediately regrets asking, but not enough to let her go. He’s come this far, and he has 4 days worth of questions he desperately needs answers to.

“Funny,” he gives a condescending smile, which clearly pleases her as she gives a genuine one back, lifting her spare hand to gesture for him to carry on. As if it’s that easy to narrow down all the things he wants to ask her.

One question.

What did she say about the kiss? Did she like it? Would she do it again?

What did she say about him? About how she feels? About what she wants?

Where is she right now? What did she tell Nia about the date? About the who?

“The guy she’s out with,” he can’t even bring himself to say the D word, “Is he nice?”

The look she gives him is almost pitiful. In fact, there is no almost about it. She clearly thinks he’s pathetic, but it’s too late to retract the question now that it’s out there.

“I don’t think so.”

He doesn’t like the way his stomach turns at her answer.

He had wanted this, right? For him to be a gratuity-withholding, uncouth slob with bad breath.

But the thought of her being out with someone that has the potential to hurt her, hurts him. His chest feels tight, his head feels muddled, and that everlasting itch returns to the tips of his fingers - the weight of his cellphone becoming that much heavier in his back pocket.

“I mean,” she carries on with a shrug and reaches for her own phone, “He was a no-show, so we’ll never actually know for sure.” She swipes at her phone until she brings up her message thread with Poppy, turning up the brightness to show Nico the picture she had asked her to send earlier.

It’s a selfie taken in the overly tall mirror she had once made him pick up from Ikea, claiming it wouldn’t fit in her car and his was much bigger, and he doesn’t know why his first instinct is to scan the background just to confirm his earlier intuitions about her bedroom. Too many pillows, cloud-like duvet. He can’t see the stuffed toy, but he assumes it’s somewhere in there.

Poppy looks unbelievable.

Her dress is short, like the one she had worn on New Years, fits snug around her waist and emphasises her curves in all the best ways. Her legs seem to go on for miles, adorned in knee high boots no doubt to provide some semblance of warmth. Her hair is pulled back, and she wears gold jewellery - rings, some small hoop earrings, and he’s only just able to stop his fingers reaching out to pinch at the screen because he can see the gemstone bracelet without the need to zoom in.

“Can’t be that nice if you’re standing up a girl that gorgeous, huh?” Nia asks, suggestively, leaning her chin into the palm of her spare hand as she looks up at Nico. “Some guys just don’t know how good they’ve got it.”

He figures he actually should be embarrassed about the relief that floods through him - washes over his entire demeanour, expression changing from defeated to victorious in a matter of mere seconds.

The crease that seems to have permanently formed between his brows smooths out, posture corrects itself, and his lips even almost turn up into a smile.

There’s a childish, territorial voice within him that wants to exclaim, Thank God! But he’s grateful that he’s able to mute it.

And, despite being privy to Nia’s games - despite knowing exactly what trap he is being lured into, what he’s about to fall for - he can’t help but suggest, “You should tell her to come out.” Because, despite knowing he had taken the bait, he can’t find it within himself to care. “I think I asked her one too many times to ask again.”

The one thing he had twisted himself into knots over since first hearing her utter the word date, hadn’t actually come to fruition.

There is no date. There is no uncouth slob.

There is Poppy, dressed as pretty as she is, practically waiting for someone to show her a good time.

He can do that. He wants to do it - to be the someone that’s good to her.

“Oh, should I?” Nia asks, a knowing smirk causing her lips to twitch mischievously. She’s been playing him this whole time, and once again, he doesn’t care. “I don’t know, she seems resigned to spending the evening on her couch watching New Girl,” she sighs dramatically, clearly looking for incentive - once again, reminding him too much of the girl he longs for. “I don’t know if there’s much convincing to be done.”

“I’ll add you to the tab for the night.”

Rookie mistake, offering something up so quick.

“Is that all my efforts are worth to you, Nico, a few measly drinks?”

“What do you want?”

“I’m actually out with a client tonight,” she looks back somewhere toward the other side of the bar, Nico can’t even bring himself to follow her gaze. “Been trying to sign them to my agency for a while, and if I can fix this deal, I’m up for a promotion.”

“Nia,” he warns, not liking how long this story is becoming. Forget good things come to those who wait. He’s waited long enough. “What do you want?”

“They’re big Devils fans, I think a night with the team could really open them up to the benefits of working with me.”

“Bring them into our section.”

“And maybe some tickets, too.”

“Fine.”

Nia gives him a triumphant smile, “Great, I’ll let them know.” She salutes him as she stands back up, gathering her drink and phone between the fingers of one hand before backing away. “Nice doing business with you, Captain.”

“Aren’t you gonna text her?”

“Oh, Nico,” she jeers, using her free hand to grasp him by the chin. “Dear, sweet, naive Nico,” she gives his head a subtle shake before patting at his shoulder condescendingly, “She’s already on her way.”

If anyone asks, Nico isn’t admitting to keeping an eye on the door since Nia had made her way back over to her side of the bar, but he knows as soon as Poppy has arrived. He watches her make her way over to her friend, watches the two of them embrace and talk between themselves for a good minute. He watches and waits until her eyes meet his from across the crowded room, and it’s like everything else stops.

He’d somehow managed to immerse himself in the party spirit since he had found out she was coming, fitting back into the group, toasting along with them, engaging in conversations with his teammates, his mood vastly improved in comparison to earlier in the night - of which he’s sure Timo is relieved after his short-lived exile from Nico’s good graces — but everything fades to black when he sees her lips curve upwards from afar.

Someone is talking beside him - hopefully not to him, he thinks, he doesn’t remember being mid-discussion with anyone - but it’s just drowned out mumbling right now, and all he can do is tilt his head toward the doors that lead to the bathrooms, and wait for her to respond. When she nods and separates herself from Nia, he excuses himself from the group, edging out of their section and following her path, losing her a little in the thick crowd of people - the bar still packed from where they had played the Giants game earlier.

When he gets through the doors, he’s thankful no one else is lingering back there - no rowdy queue for the bathroom, no staff, no one but him and the girl who seems to be holding his heart like a hot potato, not knowing the best way to carry it without getting burned.

“Hi.” It’s a weak starter for a heavy conversation, but if he’s honest with himself, she’s taken his breath away.

The picture from before hadn’t done her justice. She’s a little worn into her look for the evening now, hair not so neat, skin a little shiny, lipstick faded - but this is exactly how he likes her, especially when he takes in the way her eyes gleam and her cheeks puff out with her smile.

He makes a conscious effort not to let his eyes drift directly to the smile - to her lips, which even the thought of them elicits such a vivid memory.

“Surprise!” she sings quietly, arms outstretched and hands shaking theatrically.

He steps toward her with his hands behind his back, fingers clasped together until he’s confident that his knuckles turn white, fighting the urge to curl his arm around her waist and pull her into him, needing to be closer. He watches intently as her eyes flick down to where his hands should be.

She backs into the wall behind her, not to escape his approach, but more to prepare herself for it - like she’s settling in and embracing it.

She isn’t running. She isn’t pushing.

She’s waiting.

“I’ve missed you.” Nico wastes no time in telling her the truth - telling her what she’s refused to believe every other time he’s said it, but he can tell with the tilting of her head and the rounding of her eyes that understanding has settled within her. She has no comeback, no it’s only been a few days, and he thinks she must have felt the drag of them in the same way.

“I’ve missed you, too.”

Whatever anxiety has rooted itself deep inside him for the past 4 days dissipates almost immediately.

“I haven’t stopped thinking about you.” He admits, without shame or reluctance. After Poppy had helped him overcome whatever had been censoring him before, there is no point now in holding back or beating around the bush. “You look so good, Mohn.”

A rush of confidence allows for him to close the gap, standing right before her as she leans against the wall, neck craning ever so slightly to look up at him. He still won’t touch, hands laying against the stone at either side of her hips, not daring yet to let even a sliver of his finger graze at her flesh.

“You look good, too.” She breathes, eyes glancing down to do an appreciative once over of his outfit, and he doesn’t miss the glint of pride cross through her eyes when she catches the glimpse of the gold that peaks out from the neck of his sweatshirt.

“I’m sorry about your date.”

“Are you?” Her lips twist into a knowing smile. It’s an example of one of her many traits that he loves - she can detect his bullshit a mile off.

“Mmhm,” he nods, “I’m sorry a world exists where any man is stupid enough to stand you up, Poppy.”

“I’m the stupid one,” she argues, and he misses her gaze as soon as she takes it away, eyes darting to the floor in embarrassment. “I should have listened to you and cancelled in the first place.”

“I was stupid to ask that.”

“Maybe we’re both stupid.”

“Definitely.” He probably shouldn’t be agreeing to her calling herself stupid, but it comes out before he can think too much on it. They’ve both wasted too much time.

“Did you have a good birthday?” She asks, and a slight movement between them catches his eye, her fingers twisting together as if she’s withholding her touch, too.

“It’s better now.” He smiles fondly as she rolls her eyes.

“How are your family?”

“They’re good.” He doesn’t want to go into too much detail about how shamefully miserable he has been over the past few days - doesn’t want to tell her how his mom had called him out on his lack of contribution to conversations, and he’d managed to pin it on the stress of the season. She still raises a brow at his insufficient answer, and he expands before she can tell him off. “Everyone but Luca made it out, my sister had to go back already for work, but my parents booked a trip to Halifax to visit the Phillips’, I lived with them when I played up there, they have a few friends to visit in Canada but they’ll drop back to see me again before they fly home.”

He feels the tickle of soft fingertips at the inside of his arm, slowly grazing down as he speaks, and as he watches Poppy, he thinks she must not realise she’s doing it - letting intuition take over as she’s distracted by the conversation. He lets her take the lead on initiating any touching, and it takes all the restraint he has left not to barge through the door she’s attempting to slowly eke open. She’s the only person in the world who could make him audibly hear the metaphorical creaking.

“Did they get to watch you win?”

He doesn’t even know why he finds himself grinning at the question, but the tone in which she asks it bears a hint of pride. She had watched the game on Friday.

“My dad was pretty much in the stands in full gear, everything but the pads and skates, and my mom was repping Foundation merch, she’s run off across the border with my beanie.” He likes the way her face lights up.

“I’ll get you another.” She raises her other hand to card her fingers through his hair, and, for once, he’s thankful not to be wearing any sort of hat. The soft scratch of her nails is soothing, and he just about manages to stop himself leaning into her touch and purring like a cat.

That would be embarrassing.

He feels outnumbered, both of her hands on him, and it feels unfair not to be touching her - so when his thumb extends itself on the wall just beside her hip and strokes at the soft fabric of her dress until it’s softly digging in, he watches intently for any hesitation before he lays a palm flat against her side.

It feels like things are progressing both torturously slow and overwhelmingly fast at the same time. His heart feels like it’s slamming into either side of his ribcage, and like nothing else occupies his chest, the sound of it echoing as if banging on the walls of a deep, empty cavern.

“Did I already tell you how much I missed you?” He honestly can’t remember, but he’ll tell her again if he needs to.

The hand that had run through his hair rests now on the side of his head, her thumb swiping softly at his cheek as she cups the side of his face, and before he can even make sense of what is happening, he’s being pulled forward.

He bends to her advances with quick reflexes to avoid clashing, and their noses bump just before their lips meet.

Her chest rolls forward until it presses into his, and both his hands grab at her sides to pull her flush against him, legs tangling, hips pushing together, bodies touching everywhere possible all the way up to their mouths.

He gives her all the control otherwise, allows her to determine the pace, responding to her every move and every touch with fervour and heat. She pulls at him, one hand grasping at his sweatshirt and the other cradling the side of his neck, and he quickly lifts one to stifle the blow to her head as she collides back with the wall, barely noticing the pain where his knuckles meet the stone.

Their tongues press together at the same time, and Nico doesn’t even realise his lack of patience got the better of him until their battle for dominance kicks off between their lips.

He can taste the same vanilla lip balm, can smell her signature coconut scent, can hear soft, subtle moans, can only see the back of his eyelids, not daring to open them, just wanting to feel. And he can feel everything.

He feels the softness of her hair beneath the hand that is protecting her head from the discomfort of resting against the hard surface behind her, can feel the skirt of her dress bunching up in his grip, can feel her touch, fingertips dancing at the the base of his skull, thumb pressing into his jaw, her other hand making that same grabby gesture at the thick fabric covering his torso, squished between his heart and her chest, and he thinks he can feel the thump of her own heart on the other side.

He can feel her thigh pressed between his, the friction causing a heat to build deep in the pit of his stomach, swirling and whirling down, down, down until it culminates into the hard press of his hips into hers, and a rushed gasp combined with a guttural groan causes their lips to part.

They take deep breaths in unison, their chests bumping with every inhale, and he tries otherwise not to move.

He opens his eyes to find hers still closed, scrunched shut, even, and he tries not to be selfish - ignores the need to get a good look at her, to have this version of her ingrained to his memory too - and attempts to coax her back to him.

“Poppy,” he sounds just about as breathless as he feels. “Are you good?”

She hums in response, a subtle nod given, but he needs to hear her say it, and he tells her as much with a quick squeeze to her hip. Her eyes flutter open, gleaming and bright, framed by thick lashes and crinkling slightly at the outer corners as her lips turn up into a mischievous grin. “Better now.”

His chest feels like it’s about to burst open, like there’s a bear within him that is going to break out and pull her into its clutches, dragging her back safe to her home in his heart.

“Do you want to get out of here?” He asks, because he has to - he doesn’t care if it’s rude to leave his own birthday party, doesn’t care that he’s been the most ungrateful person in the world all night.

He’ll make it up to Timo, get him something big the next birthday of his that rolls around. Throw him a party. Or he’ll take care of the tab the next time they’re out. Maybe even let him have the window seat the next time they’re on the same plane home.

Except, he won’t be doing any of that. He’ll be taking the reins on booking flights and putting Timo straight into economy, smack-bang in the middle of a row surrounded by a family of 5, screaming kids, arguing parents, the back of his seat being kicked the whole 8 hours to Zurich.

Because, just as Poppy’s swollen lips part to accept his advances - as her chin lifts, about to drop with a big affirmative nod, and he’s about to get everything he’s wanted the past 4 days and beyond - the doors to the back swing open, and his 6 foot teammate stumbles through, arms outstretched as he notices the two of them practically intertwined.

“Here you are!” He exclaims, voice booming in comparison to the soft breathy tones he and Poppy had been previously speaking in. “Poppy, you made it!”

“Hi Timo,” Nico feels her retreat, feels her legs brush past his and back to her own space, her hand on his chest now the only part of her that touches him, and he follows her lead, taking his hands back and trying not to clench his jaw or his fists as she converses with the man who was once his friend. “How are you doing?”

“I’m alright, should be back on the ice in a couple weeks.” Timo had suffered an injury in one of their games at the back end of December, and hasn’t been fit to travel, and Nico finds an unspeakably bitter part of himself wishing it was something to do with Timo’s legs that were injured so he couldn’t have interrupted their moment. “Glad you’re here, this one has been miserable all night.”

He can’t be this oblivious, Nico thinks. Why is he still here? Why isn’t he retreating back to the bar and leaving the two of them to whatever he had clearly barged in on.

And when Nico looks back to his teammate, his long time friend, he sees the oh-so-evident glint of mischief and disobedience in his grey-blue eyes.

He is getting his own back.

Nico knows he was petulant to blame Timo for Poppy not being invited, knows there was nothing he could have done to change her going out on a date, or them not speaking for months while he was with Talia.

He doesn’t need him to enact his revenge to see he was wrong to ignore his texts, or to mope around at the party he had put so much effort into.

He tries to give him a pleading look to stop whatever he is trying to do, but it’s no use.

“The guys will want to see you, Poppy, Jack’s beating himself up about his shoulder, could use a friendly face.”

“Oh,” Poppy casts a glance back to Nico, and he gives her a nod, implying that she go see to her friend. “I’ll go find him.”

He can wait. He’s waited 4 days. He’s waited years, in fact.

And, after that kiss, he knows he won’t have to wait much longer.

“You’re a real dick, you know that?” Nico mutters in their shared native language once he’s watched Poppy disappear through the doors to the bar, with a quick glance back and an apologetic smile before they closed.

“Just saving my brooding captain from being arrested for public indecency,” Timo shrugs with a shit-eating grin as he passes Nico and heads toward the bathrooms further down the hall. “You’re welcome!” He calls back in English, raising his hands and giving a patronising thumbs up.

Nico runs a hand through his hair, pushing it out of his face and wishing it was Poppy’s in its place.

It’s just an hour, maybe two, in the presence of his friends. Drinks, music, everyone in a good mood for the most part. It’s hardly like he’s walking out into a press conference after a 5 game losing streak and about to have all the blame placed upon his shoulders.

It’s a party.

Poppy’s here.

He can do this.

He can wait.

Next Chapter

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