#someday perhaps i will find a way to break the second date curse I am under

[rubenesque-as-fuck]

So the guy who rainchecked on Monday saying that he wasn't feeling well wrote back after I'd already gone to bed last night, saying that he was feeling better and apologizing for not replying for a bit. I wrote back mid-morning today and now once again... nothing. I think if I don't hear back from him by sometime tomorrow I may just unmatch and move on. As always, I'll lie to myself and say it was his loss 🙃

[fallinfl0wers]

love stories with some genshin boys i thought of while listening to my playlists

includes: aether (210 words), xiao (261 words), scaramouche (277 words) and albedo (307)

warnings (?): spoilers of ‘we will be reunited’, english is not my native language and uhh idk what else, idk really know what these are, headcanons ?? snippets ?? also not beta read and not edited.

it’s long so uhhh i’ll add a cut somewhere

anyway enjoy!! ...whatever this is i guess

Aether

Falling in love with Aether is like a fun adventure. He, being always the center of attention and the protagonist no matter where he goes, is a free spirited, kind and hardworking man. 

Throughout your time travelling and being in a relationship together, you’ll find that your relationship with the Honorary Knight is one of sweet kisses under the sunlight; innocent handholding while thinking up of what to make for dinner tonight; of easily talked out arguments and finding ways to compromise; of softly pushing each other to become a better version of themselves and, most of all, of supporting and having each other’s backs no matter what.

And when Aether confronts the Abyss Princess face to face for the first time and his world comes crashing down on him, this trait of your relationship shines like no other, as you hold him in your arms after everything was over during the night, Paimon sleeping soundly next to the both of you inside your improvised campsite.

“Even though I’m not sure what -or who- I should believe anymore, I... I know I want to see this journey to the end, and I want you to be there with me for it. Let’s be together until the last moment and beyond.”

Songs:

Snow Fairy - Funkist

Snowing, be honest with yourself and smile When two people are getting closer, time overlaps Fairy, where are you going I will gather all the light and shine it on your tomorrow

Still Lonely - SEVENTEEN

This cursed popularity. Why won’t it leave me? But why am I getting lonelier The early morning chill makes me feel Even lonelier today I feel completely empty, as if I’m empty

Kanpeki Gu~ no ne - Watarirouka Hashiritai

I'm at a loss for words, with this and that, I'm totally in love with you Someday, I want do the same to you: Watch you flounder, At a loss for words right back to me!

Side by Side - The8 from SEVENTEEN

I want to hold hands with you but I don't know what to do what to do oh baby I want to give all my heart to you but You still don't know what's in my heart

Hope - Namie Amuro

At the end of this blue, wide world there's a place I want to aim at with you We chose this long ago for eternity

Xiao

Falling in love with Xiao is like living a bittersweet dream. The Vigilant Yaksha is far from human, or so he says, and thus is out of touch with the way we mortals experience feelings, both the negative and positive ones.

Your relationship with him is one of compassion, mutual understanding, appreciation and patience. So, so much patience. Of intertwined pinkies and soft stolen glances, of shy smiles and comfortable silence sometimes filled with your voice chatting time away and his short responses to your talks.

I mentioned patience. He knows you’re making an enormous effort to try and understand him and be patient with him and his slow learning process of how relationships work, so it’s only fair that he makes a true effort to understand you and your feelings.

Xiao is well aware that he could hurt you without wanting to, be it with his blunt phrasing of his thoughts or his Karmic Debt, as much as he is aware that you will eventually pass away and leave him behind to go somewhere he can’t follow, and that undeniable truth haunts him every second of every day he gets to spend with you. And still, he wishes and wants and does cherish each and every warm, kind feeling he gets every single second you’re together nonetheless.

“I might not know what to make of these new feelings you gave me. But I’ll learn. I promise I’ll learn, so please... don’t go, not yet. Let me treasure you and carve you into my memory for as long as I can.”

Songs:

Euphoria - BTS

I don't know what this emotion is Perhaps this is also the inside of a dream A dream is the blue mirage of the desert Deep inside of me, a priori I become happy to the point of being unable to breathe The surroundings, bit by bit, become clearer

Fallin’ Flower - SEVENTEEN

While flower blooms and falls, scars cure and buds shoot We are living our first and last moment So I won’t take you for granted Because you loved me as I am

Fear - SEVENTEEN

Get out my mind I can't handle it, I'm afraid of myself The truth has me tied up My heart is tainted I'm afraid it'll eventually change you too

The Truth Untold - BTS, Steve Aoki

It’s my fate Don’t smile to me Light on me Because I can’t get closer to you There’s no name you can call me

You know that I can’t Show you me Give you me I can’t show you a ruined part of myself Once again I put a mask on and go to see you But I still want you

Tiny Light - Akari Kitō

Because you colored my unchanging monochromatic days Even the blurred darkness gained meaning

Still, hidden in this heart, these feelings of preciousness so strong that they hurt I just want to convey these feelings to only you before they disappear someday

Scaramouche

Falling in love with Scaramouche is like constantly playing a game. He’s strict, demanding, disagreeable, and widely disliked by enemies and allies alike. Still, he has a heart too; and he holds desires and hopes deep inside of it, although most of them are fueled by the unchanging curiosity he has towards the world around him, curiosity to know what he can get out of whatever the world wants to throw at him.

You were no exception to that rule, at first.

When he met you he wanted to get something from you. And you knew it from the start, just as he knew that you knew. And that didn’t change anything, at first.

Your relationship with him is one of dangerously playful, yet still light-hearted games of seduction, teasing and deceit; of secret kisses exchanged in expensive private rooms in restaurants or the cozy warmth of your home, of an unspoken shared respect and, most of all, complete, mutual devotion.

You know Scaramouche is not a good man. He has done many, many unspeakable things in his life as one of the Eleven, and he knows he’s far from being the perfect charming prince you could aim for, but he will never let you go. Because behind those hardened walls of egocentrism and pride, you saw what no one else bothered to see. You saw him, not the role he was playing, you saw him and fell in love with him.

“To be honest, I don’t think I could find anyone else who understands me as much as you do. And no, I’m not saying this because I want something, give me some more credit, geez...”

Songs:

soldier game -  µ’s

You'll come with me, yes? You've grown curious about my touch, yes? Then it's already love Since you're someone I must meet in battle someday, That might just be your reason It's soldier game Though we've met again, I'm soldier heart

Kowareyasuki - Guilty Kiss

Just stop it already and show your heart only to me I love your eyes that are about to cry And your defenseless, clumsy way of living too (...) The hesitation you convey makes my chest hurt Some people just don't know what such kindness is But then I discover the truth When we got together, you don't have to endure anymore Right now, show your grief only to me I like that you think too much The complete opposite of me

Shhh - SEVENTEEN

Don't think of all these as your mere illusion They're not lies that follow the moment No one can underestimate it, my feelings are an ignition 'Cause I'm always the same Me and you, we got hurt by the lies that we won't ever work But it's fate

(...)

So I can cover you from danger A consented dedication

(...)

It's as natural as breathing An everlasting dedication

Good to me - SEVENTEEN

Yeah, when you were making that sign in my heart It was a long time since my firewall broke down Pass with the password What in the world do you know about me? Are my deep feelings seen by you?

Hiraishin - Keyakizaka46

(To trust is to be betrayed, to open one’s heart is to get hurt So to avoid being struck by lightning-like sorrow…)

Which side am I picking? Ah, these values are hard to handle That’s why I won’t stop watching over you Positive positive positive You should just be yourself… I can forgive whatever absurdities you pull off I’ll support you without being noticed Even when you get nitpicked I’ll be your companion Let us now promise to live an unremarkable life hereafter What we have here is the lightning rod of love

Albedo

Falling in love with Albedo is a fairy tale-like experience for both of you. His attention had always been focused on his research, everything else fading into the background save for a few exceptions, until you came around. You, who stole all his attention by just existing. 

As an alchemist, he’s naturally the curious type. He wanted to know what about it had caught his attention, what was so special about you that had him clinging to your every word and movement every time you interacted with him. Still, human relationships are hard for him, and he figured you might go away the second he started to feel burnt out from your interactions. But you didn’t. Instead, you stayed. You stayed and took interest on what he did, asked questions, gave your insight, and dragged him to sleep when he needed a break. In exchange, he did the same for you.

Your relationship with Albedo is like one of those awkwardly sweet first time crushes. Of carefully calculated movements, dates and compliments, of soft kisses on lips, hands and cheeks, of mutual support, understanding and mature compromising and commitment.

The Kreideprinz, like everyone else, has his own fears and insecurities, especially regarding his... nature, but he does his best not to let them affect the relationship he has with you. Each moment spent by your side, even when he’s not actively doing any research, is considered perfectly spent, meaningful time.

“A long time ago, I was tasked with finding out the meaning of this world. Though I have directed my efforts and resources to looking for the answer through alchemy, ever since we met I... think, I’ve found an unexpected conclusion to said issue. While it’s likely that this is not the answer expected from me, I’m positive that, at least personally, I finally have the answer.”

Songs:

Futari Saison - Keyakizaka46

In the wind blowing through the city’s streets, even though I caught whiff of something’s scent, I had no interest in looking back

In a 1m radius around me, I formed an invisible barrier to another world And yet, you took someone like me out of it

What made you do that?

Home - SEVENTEEN

What can I do? Without you I’m just an old robot, my heart stops and it’s always cold What can we do? Without me You’ll struggle just as much, so what can we do?

Baby, I want to cherish our warmth So no one can come between us

Flower - SEVENTEEN

You taught me, you showed me You’re my only reason If you can forever remember me I can get hurt, I can get hurt

My heart that’s engraved with your light Makes me stronger Give me your sharp thorns Cause you’re my flower

Oh my! - SEVENTEEN

Sorry for repeating the same thing But this is all I can try using hard words But my true feeling is this, every everything

(...)

How about you? Is it hard for you to sleep because of me too? If you keep making my heart flutter What do I do?

Naze koi wo shite konakattan darou? - Sakurazaka46

Why hadn't I fallen in love? I've been making fun of it all this time I mean everyone keeps saying 'I love you' just like cats in heat But after falling in love I realized what people live for To meet, to love, to the point of nothing but... I'm not myself, I want to find my true self.

[vindicatedvirgil]

only fools rush in / part eight: of flowers and freeing words

part one | part two | part three | part four | part five | part six | part seven

TW: sexual innuendo (thanks, Remus), mention of hospital visit, mentions of cancer/chronic illness, VERY vague mentions of domestic abuse, vague mentions of sex, cursing, anxiety attack

chapter summary: Patton reflects on his relationship with Remus, his friendship with Logan, and just... everything.

---

Like a river flows surely to the sea

Darling, so it goes

Some things are meant to be

-

Patton wasn’t sure if he believed in fate. Sure, his mom would read him fairytales as a kid and he hoped that someday, he would find where he was meant to be. But he had worked hard to get where he was, taking care of his mom when she got sick, helping to run the flower shop all throughout high school and helping when he could now that he was in college. Everyone he had dated in the past always felt… like a background character, or one of those characters in video games that you only really deal with for one quest and then you don’t see them ever again. A part of his journey, yes, but not someone to join him on the rest of his journey.

And then he met Remus. Remus, who was so unlike anyone he had ever dated, who looked at Patton like he held all of the stars in his hands, who held him so gently after their moments of intimacy that Patton almost felt like a porcelain doll, so fragile, so ready to break in the hands of the person who he loved so dearly, as long as Remus was happy.

It had all happened so quickly; from the moment they met, Patton was in it. Their first date was unlike any other he had ever had, because they both broke down their walls. And as they grew to know each other more, as they progressed physically and emotionally, Patton wanted more and more to believe that Remus was the one he was made for. That, perhaps, Patton Hart, in his mother’s womb all those years ago, was being crafted just so that he could be held tenderly by Remus Creative. 

He didn’t want to lose that. He couldn’t bear the thought of it falling apart; perhaps that was why he reacted so negatively to what Roman did during the power outage. For the first time in his life, Patton had something that he was terrified to lose other than his mother, Logan, and the flower shop. And even though Roman was one of his best friends, maybe especially so, he couldn’t bear the idea that the theater major would get in the way of what was, in Patton’s mind, meant to be.

It haunted his every thought, though. When he curled in Remus’ arms, the fresh afterglow settling above both of them, when he sat in his child development classes, when he cut the stems off of the flowers in the shop, it was all he could think of: Roman’s letter. And now he felt guilty for holding this grudge over him, but he didn’t know how to resolve things; until he realized that opening night of the musical was coming up.

-

“Hi, Mama,” Patton said, stepping into the flower shop, Remus in tow. “How are you today?” She swept him up into his arms, pressing kisses into his hair and on his cheeks.

“Much better now that you’re here, darling.” Her eyes fluttered over to Remus, who smiled, holding his hand out, but she pushed it aside and brought him into the hug as well. “Remus, you look very nice.” Remus glanced down at his outfit; he was wearing his dark green suit and had his hair brought back into a bun; it was the opening night of the play and they were making a quick stop before going to see it.

“Thank you, Ms. Hart.” He pressed a kiss to her cheek before stepping away to look at some roses, allowing time for Patton to explain what he needed.

“Yellow roses, Mama. For friendship,” he said thoughtfully, glancing at the vase he had dropped off with her the other day. “The usual fillers are good, though.” He fidgeted with the ends of his pink skirt a little bit. He had also dressed nicely; it was almost like he and Remus had decided to cosplay as Elphaba and Glinda. Patton wore white pumps, a white shirt with a sparkly bow tie was tucked into the skirt, and some sparkly tights. Remus had nearly dragged him into the bedroom when they met up at the apartment earlier. That would have to wait until later, though, because Patton didn’t want to miss a single moment of the musical. 

-

Patton cheered louder than anyone for Roman, even louder than Remus (which… seemed impossible, but he managed to do it). The only person who rivaled his deafening cries was Janus, who beamed with joy and proudness whenever Virgil was on stage. And even Logan had to brush a few tears from his eyes at the end of the musical, when the entire audience stood and cheered as soon as Roman stepped out into the curtain call.

After the curtain call ended, Janus, Logan, Remus, and Patton stood expectantly where they knew Virgil and Roman would be coming out. Janus held the bouquet for Virgil, and Patton had the one for Roman. They stood there for a while, watching as families and friends greeted the actors and then left, and soon it was quiet.

“Where are they?” Patton asked hesitantly, and he shared a worried look with Janus. “Do you think Virgil had another anxiety attack?”

“They’re probably just fucking,” Remus muttered, his hands snaking around Patton’s waist, leaning down to press his lips to his earlobe. “Exactly what I’ll be doing to you later tonight, little flower.”

“Re!” Patton flushed hard, batting away Remus with his free hand. Janus smirked, a low chuckle escaping as he watched the encounter with the two. “You keep making moves like that and you’ll get nothing but a door in your face tonight.” Patton was teasing, of course, but Remus stepped back, a hand clapping on Logan’s shoulder as the two discussed a project they had in a mutual class.

Finally, Roman and Virgil stepped out of the green room, their hands intertwined. They were both cleaned of their makeup and costumes, and it occurred to them all that since the two were dressed in intricate costumes and makeup for the tin man and the scarecrow that it would take them a little bit longer to finish cleaning up. Janus moved first, scooping Virgil into a big hug, murmuring how proud he was and complimenting his work. Patton stepped up to Roman hesitantly, holding out the bouquet of flowers.

“You did amazing, Ro,” he said quietly, smiling up at his friend, whose eyes brimmed with tears. Roman took the vase with flowers, then set them on an empty table before hugging Patton tightly, sobbing into the smaller man’s shoulder. “Hey, shh, it’s alright. We’re okay, Ro.” As the two hugged tightly, he felt a pat on his shoulder, and glanced to see Logan, smiling brightly, but shaking his head, as if to say ‘you idiots, I love you.’

“Get in here, nerd,” Roman muttered before pulling the smartest of the three into their hug. Patton didn’t know how long the three stood there for, but when they pulled away, Janus was still hugging Virgil tight. Remus gave Roman a brief hug.

“Proud of you, bro. Though I still say the medieval play in high school was your best,” the mustached twin said, and a look of realization crossed Roman’s features.

“You… saw that play?” he asked, and Remus nodded, confused. “Mom and Dad said you didn’t want to go.”

“I sat in the back corner, but I was so proud of you, Bro-man.” Remus smirked at the nickname he had used in the past for his brother, and Roman laughed, pulling his twin in for another hug. “You did awesome tonight.” Patton apparently had snapped a photo of the pair hugging with his polaroid camera, and thus entered the struggle over who would get to put it on the fridge.

Janus won that fight.

-

Patton sat alone at one of the tables in the schoolyard, his brown paper bag full of goodies that his mom made sure to include. It was scary, starting in a new school halfway through the year, and all of the other kids made fun of the flowers he brought in for his new teacher. Then they made fun of him for wearing a pink sweater, for his big round glasses, and for having long hair that his mom had put into a bun for him that morning before he got on the bus.

So, there he was, second grade, sitting all alone. He didn’t mind, because he knew that when he got home, he’d see his mom, and they’d be safe.

“What are you doing?” A voice said from beside him. He looked up to see a boy with square glasses, neatly combed hair, a polo shirt, and a tie. Patton remembered him as the boy who answered all of the questions during the science part of their class. “This is my table.”

“O-Oh… I’m sorry. I just… didn’t have anywhere else to sit.” Patton looked down, trying to hold in his tears. He didn’t want to be known as the kid who cried on his first day at the school, and his mom always knew when he’d been crying. “I’m s-so sorry…” The other boy sighed, sliding into the seat across from him and setting a book down.

“It’s fine, just stay quiet so I can read, okay Patton Hart?” he asked, and Patton looked up at him through teary eyes.

“Y-You know my name?” His voice was shaky, and he slid his glasses up to sit in his hair so he could wipe his tears with the sleeve of his sweater. The other boy nodded.

“You’re the new kid. You have a frog backpack and a notebook with a kitten on it,” the boy said matter-of-factly. “A little bit frivolous, but if it’s what you enjoy, then there is no harm there.”

“Fribolous?” Patton asked, giggling. “You use a lot of big words.” The other boy sighed again, adjusting his glasses.

“Yes. Frivolous. F-R-I-V-O-L-O-U-S. It’s something that does not have any serious purpose or value,” he explained, and Patton nodded, face deep in thought.

“You know that underwater sea animal, porpoise?”

“I am aware of them, yes. Why do you ask?” he asked, and Patton giggled, having thought of the perfect pun.

“So… if I put a porpoise with serious guy glasses and a tie on my notebook… would it stop being fribolous?” He giggled all the way through his joke, and the other boy groaned.

“That was… awful. Why did you do that?”

“I thought it would be funny,” Patton said, sinking down a little. “D-Do you not like jokes?” He thought about his father, who never made any jokes around him. Who glared at Patton whenever the jokes came out of the small boy.

“I do not think that they lead to important discussions, is all,” he explained, and Patton nodded, taking a bite of his sandwich. Then realization struck.

“What’s your name?”

“Oh. I’m Logan Crofters.”

-

As the weeks passed, Patton stayed sitting at Logan’s table, dishing out puns whenever necessary but mostly asking Logan about different kinds of science-related things. He liked the way that Logan explained things; he made a lot more sense than their teacher, sometimes.

“Am I bothering you?” Patton asked one day. He had slid over his grapes to Logan, who was munching on them between reading paragraphs from a book about frogs. 

“What?”

“Am I annoying?”

“No, Patton. you’re not annoying.” Logan seemed a bit exasperated with the question, but he answered it anyway.

“Are we friends?” Patton’s eyes were focused on Logan, it had been so long since he had a friend that wasn’t his mom or one of his many stuffed animals.

“Oh. Um… I don’t know. I’ve never had a friend before.” Logan’s response was curt, and Patton’s jaw dropped.

“What!?” He jumped up from where he was sitting, then ran over to sit next to Logan. “Can I be your best friend, then??”

“Um. Sure?”

“Yay!” He wrapped his arms around Logan tightly.

-

Logan ran into the waiting room of the hospital, finding Patton sitting on a chair, his head in his hands. He approached him quickly, a hand instinctively going to his best friend’s back. “I got here as soon as I could, is she okay?”

“She collapsed, Lo. I just… She went into the back to rinse off the new roses, and when I went to check on her… she was on the ground.” Patton leaned into Logan’s shoulder, tears staining the polo shirt he was wearing. “The doctors say... it might have come back, but they’re running tests.”

“She’s in good hands, Pat. I’m going to text my parents and let them know that I’ll be here with you until she goes home, okay? And then I can be there for you.” Logan’s phone was in his hand, and he sent a quick text.

“Tell me something logical, please,” Patton whispered once the two were seated together, hands twisted together, Patton’s head on Logan’s shoulder.

“Are you sure?” he asked, and just got a nod in return. “Well… logically speaking, a bee should not be physically able to fly–”

“Lo!” Patton was giggling, his grip tightening on Logan’s hand. “You know me so well. Thank you.”

-

The morning after opening night of the musical, Patton entered the apartment, yawning. He didn’t get much sleep thanks to Remus, and he was hoping to take a nap before delving into studying for his final exams. When he entered the apartment, he found Logan sitting at the kitchen table, papers spread out in front of him.

“Hey, Lo. No Janus?” he asked, glancing around. Logan shook his head.

“He went home a while ago. Roman and Virgil are still in bed, though,” he explained, stretching his arms up. “Did you have a good time with Remus last night?” Patton’s face reddened at the question, and he nodded. “Does Hannah like him?”

It still caught Patton off guard whenever Logan referred to his mom by her first name, but they had been friends for almost fifteen years, so of course it made sense. Logan could call her mom, too, if he wanted to. He was there whenever Patton needed him, whenever she had a doctor’s appointment that Patton couldn’t drive her to because someone needed to look after the store.

Patton wondered why Logan did all of this. Sometimes he thought back to that time when he asked him if they were friends, all the way back when they were first getting to know each other. And Patton, little Patton, just… proclaimed them as best friends. Did he shoehorn Logan into their friendship so that he could never branch out?

No, that couldn’t be true, because Logan joined debate and chess and academic decathlon in high school, but still spent all of his free time with Patton. And even once Roman and Janus and now Virgil and Remus entered their lives, he still regarded Patton as one of his best friends.

“Hey, you look like you’re having some troubling thoughts, Patton. Want to talk about them?” Logan’s voice was pulling him back into the present, and he nodded, sitting on one of the stools. He was quiet for a bit, though, and Logan kept writing some notes down until Patton finally started talking again.

“Are you just my best friend out of convenience? Because I claimed you so early on and never really had any other friends? Do you just… stay my friend out of pity?” Patton was looking down until he felt Logan’s hand on his back, and then a laugh came from the usually stoic man.

“Patton, you’re my best friend because everyone else is annoying. If I didn’t want to be your friend I wouldn’t be, you’re a lot to deal with but I’ve been dealing with you for fifteen years and I plan on dealing with you for many more.” Logan’s voice was serious, and Patton could tell that he meant what he was saying. He leaned into Logan, wrapping his arms around his best friend.

“Thanks, Lo. Love ya.”

“Love you too, Pat.”

-

Patton’s arm burned, but in a good way. Underneath the plastic he could see the vibrant colors of his very first tattoo, his mother’s favorite flower and a bee sitting on its petals, to remind him of Logan. He didn’t tell anyone that he was getting it, not even Logan, so when he got home to find Logan sitting at the kitchen table doing homework while talking to his mom, he was surprised.

“Lo? What are you doing here?” he asked, putting his arm behind his back so neither of them could see. He kissed his mother on the cheek before sitting on one of the chairs beside them.

“I came by to study but Hannah said that you went out for something,” Logan explained, pushing his glasses up further on his nose.

“What did you do, baby?” his mother asked, glancing at him carefully. He was still hiding his arm, but he smiled and brought it out, settling it on the table.

“I uh, I got a tattoo, Mama,” Patton said hesitantly. She looked at it carefully, smiling a little bit. “A sunflower. Your favorite.” Logan eyed the tattoo as well, nodding in understanding. “To celebrate you beating the cancer again.”

“Patton, will you take me to get a tattoo?” Logan’s voice was there suddenly, and the two Harts looked at him with surprised expressions.

“Lo, you… want a tattoo?”

“I want to get a constellation tattooed on my shoulder. The one that was in the sky on the day we became best friends.”

-

Patton leaned into Remus’ side, the taller man’s arm wrapped around his shoulders. They were at the cafe, the others having gone home long ago to study or sleep, but the couple stayed long after, chatting with Remy whenever he brought them over refills on their drinks or small pastries. Remus’ grip got a little tighter around Patton each time he shone his signature bright smile at the barista, earning a soft thigh squeeze from the smaller man and a kiss on the cheek. Maybe that was why he did it; not because he was worried about Patton flirting, but because his boyfriend always comforted him with those delicate touches and sweet kisses. 

The bell above the door to the cafe rang gently as a few men stepped in. Remus glanced out of the corner of his eye at them, and he thought his heart would stop. “Shit,” he muttered, looking down, earning a confused squeak from Patton. “Shit, we need to go. Right now.” Patton glanced over at the group of men, all dressed in leather, covered in tattoos and piercings, evil smirks on their faces as they noticed Remus.

“Do you know them?” Patton asked softly, and Remus buried his face into the other’s shoulder, a small note of truth escaping his mouth. “Are they…?” He didn’t need to finish the sentence. Patton wasn’t a fool; he could tell by Remus’ body language and the way he tensed up that this was the group of boys he had spent time with in high school. “I’ll go pay our tab, will you be okay?” Remus said nothing but gripped onto Patton tighter, shaking his head.

“Remus Creative,” one of the voices said, dark and gritty, and Remus cringed, looking up at him. Him. “Looks like you found yourself a precious pansy, hm?”

“Fuck off,” his voice was weak, trembling, and the memories of those eyes tore through him. 

“Aw, don’t worry, kitten, he’ll tire of you soon enough and you won’t have to deal with his voices and crude comments,” another one said, and Patton considered lunging at him, but held back, because Remus was trembling beside him. 

“Everything alright, babes?” Remy was there, thank god, and Patton smiled sweetly at him, taking his debit card out of his pocket.

“Can we pay off our tab, please, Remy? We have to get going,” Patton said, his eyes flickering from the barista to the men, and a wave of understanding seemed to cross Remy’s face, who nodded and took the card, going back to the counter speedily.

“Running away again, Remus?” That voice asked again, and the mustached man shuddered, unable to look away from the grimace on his face. “You were always so good at that.” Patton’s frown deepened, and he glared at the man. “Aw, are you going to try to defend him, little kitten? Trying to be so cool with those floral tattoos–”

“I TOLD YOU TO FUCK OFF!” Remus was standing, his fists clenched, glaring at the men. Patton scrambled to his feet, a hand gripping the back of Remus’ jacket. Remy reappeared, handing the debit card to Patton, placing himself between Remus and the group of men.

“Alright, boys. Get out. You’re not welcome here if you’re going to torment some of my best customers.” His voice was firm, and they all glanced at the ‘Manager’ title on his name tag. “I don’t want to have to call the authorities. Get. Out.” The group scrambled out the door, the bell clanging almost annoying to the three, and Patton’s arms were around Remus.

“Hey, you okay, babe?” he asked, feeling his taller boyfriend shaking, his head low. “Shh, it’s okay, everything is okay, we’re okay.”

“Are you babes gonna be okay?” Remy asked, still standing there, arms crossed as he watched the group of men outside in deep discussion. 

“Thank you, Remy,” Remus finally spoke, his voice still low. “If you hadn’t stepped in… I might have done something I’d regret.” Remy smiled, setting a hand on his shoulder.

“Hey, no one messes with my babes like that,” he said before going back to behind the counter. Patton’s lips were against Remus’ cheek, grounding him.

“Let’s go, Re.”

-

Remus woke up, feeling Patton’s arms around him loosely. The smaller man was snoring softly, and Remus smiled, carding his fingers through the fading pink hair. When they got back to his bedroom last night, he needed to be grounded, and Patton was there, being gentle and soft, his hands and lips all over his body until Remus felt relaxed enough to fall asleep. 

Patton groaned a bit in his sleep, stretching his arms and legs, his eyes fluttering open to meet Remus’. “Hi,” he said softly, his voice heavy with sleepiness. “Morning, little flower,” Remus said, leaning down to press a stinky-mouthed kiss to his boyfriend’s lips. “Thank you for last night.”

“Oh. Of course, honey. Anything for you,” he said quietly, but Remus could tell something was on his mind. “What did they mean by… you tiring of me, or running away?”

“Before you… I never really had a… committed partner. I’d run at the first hint that things were getting serious, when they said those words, I ran,” Remus explained, looking down. “But… that’s not going to happen with you, Patton. You mean so much to me, you’re… everything to me.”

“Everything?” Patton asked, a smile appearing on his face, his lips pressing to Remus’ cheek and then his neck.

“Patton,” he started, his heartbeat speeding up, and he wondered if the other could hear it because soft blue eyes met his green ones. “I love you.” Patton blinked, absorbing the knowledge, and then his arms were around Remus’ neck, their lips pressing together joyously. 

“I love you too, Remus.”

Remus smiled into the kiss. He wasn’t afraid anymore. Patton was there, he was with him, and everything was good. And if things came up, they’d work through them together. They were a team, and they always would be. He kept repeating those words between kisses, the weight from his mouth lifted, and he wished he could have said those words to Patton weeks ago, because it felt so right to say them.

---

teaser for part nine: and the dark one is soft for the sunshine one

Roman wanted to object, but he knew that Virgil would just remind him of their nights practicing for the auditions, their super early mornings running lines, the way Roman was always there to watch Virgil’s scenes. Virgil was there too, always supporting, always smiling, even when his anxiety got the best of him, even when it was hard to focus.

part nine will be (hopefully) posted on Sunday, September 6 at 12PM PDT

---

part nine | part ten

---

taglist

@winterrose42

@are-you-even--real

@lallyphant

@deceits-left-glove

@aricana8

@pixelated-pineapple

@starstruck-xavier

@thiel

@sophiexteresa

@cemmy

@toadink2005

@eeveeeclair246

@i-cant-find-a-good-username

@pansexualpuppet

@morgan-leaf

[wolfpawn]

The History Books Forgot About Us and the Bible Didn’t Mention Us

Summary - While reading a detailed summary of Tom Hiddleston's past lovers, his first one finds herself reminiscing. Based on the song “Samson” By Regina Spektor, lyrics are at the bottom. 

She didn’t know why she did it. Usually, she avoided any mention of him, it was easier that way. But this one time, she did and it still hurt to see those gorgeous blue eyes looking back at her. He had become far more distinguished and bespoke, not the floppy-haired goof she fell in love with. She flicked through the words, the names of many beautiful and famous women and pictures to boot sprawled on the page in front of her, there was even two or three names of people that were not famous, his long arm around them, both canoodling together. She looked as the dates went back to the mid-2000s, then stopped. No mention of her. She never thought there would be and would not like to be known to the world, but it hurt too. She had existed, she was part of his life, for three and a half years, they were together, happy and in love, now, she was nothing. Biting her lips together, she looked at the box on her wardrobe. Getting up from her seat, she walked over and got out the decently sized container and opened it. It was covered in dust. She put it on there when she moved in four years previously and never put anything on it, so dust settled over time, something there was a slight irony in. She brought it to the bed and wiped off the dust before gently opening it. 

The contents were just as she had left them. Their years of not being used or touched meant they were in good condition. In part, she was glad it was before the more computerised era, when photographs still were more popular. She smiled at the fuzziness of a lot of the pictures, taken by drunk students on college nights out, some at family events, two even were attempts at selfies before they were even called such but there was one common theme to them. They were of her and Tom. 

They met in Cambridge on a quiz night. She and her friends had arranged it to pay for a society trip. It was in the closest bar off-campus and a lot of other students went for something to do. Cambridge had a lot of students wanting to show their knowledge over a pint, it meant everyone and everyone was there. She was in charge of collecting the answers between rounds. There were guys everywhere, from sports teams to the quieter societies. She was collecting the answer sheets when her fingers touched those of the guy handing her the page. There was a spark before she ever looked at him through their touch. She had been already looking to the next table in hopes of getting them to ready their sheet, but the tingle up her hand made her turn to see the most gorgeous blue eyes she ever bore witness to. His auburn curls bounced as his head moved and his smile was beaming. It startled her. ‘Oi, Hiddles, let the lady get on with her job, she won’t like you if you tease her too much’ one of his friends, Mark, she would later learn had jested. Tom let go of the card with a soft sorry before looking, less than subtly at her, his eyes showing his approval of what he was looking at. For the rest of the night, the pair eyed one another any time they were within view of one another, their friends urging them both to talk to the other. When he approached her at the end of the quiz, chosen from his table to collect their second prize, his friends urging him to do so. 

“Your prize.” She handed him the £50 voucher for the local off-licence.

“Thank…” He read the voucher. “That’s an interesting prize.”

“We’re students. The only thing more valuable than booze is books.” She joked back, unable to stop herself blushing as his voice made her feel more lightheaded than she would care to emit. 

“I...well, that’s true yes.” He chuckled. His laugh was different but she liked it. “I can hardly argue that when I am half sloshed. Listen, I don’t mean to sound rude and you can tell me to toss off if I am being a twat but…” He watched as she added another piece of paper to his voucher before walking off. 

From their vantage point, her friends informed her that the guy she had been oogling all night had taken her number smiling.

It was not long before the texts started, Tom Hiddleston, commonly called ‘Hiddles’ by his friends. Studying classics, Eton educated, sweet, a bookworm and an avid lover of theatre. It was no surprise he was on the DramSoc team. They met, not for drinks, which startled her slightly, but for lunch. He stated he wanted to get to speak with her more and the college bar was loud and busy. He also wanted to be sober, to not make a twat of himself, he later informed her. 

Before long, they were officially dating. He spent considerable time in her apartment and her in his. Their friends, though two different groups, got used to seeing them together. They rarely got home at weekends, but when they got home for Easter holidays, they spent so much time texting and talking, it was clear to their families they were smitten. She was Tom’s first. First girlfriend, first time, not his first kiss though, but at nineteen, that was hardly surprising. 

Summer came and they forewent going back to their families and went and found an apartment that they shared with Mark, his girlfriend and Sam, another girl from her course. They juggled shifts in different small jobs to pay to stay there, their parents helping with the rent. For the rest of their time in college, they always were seen together outside of college-related activities. When she needed to go to France for six weeks for her course, they missed each other no end. After four weeks, the loneliness became too much and he surprised her by coming over. She remembered him walking up behind her in the street and terrifying her. Sam told him where they were staying and where they would so he could surprise her. That, Sam told her, was revealed years later by Tom in an interview. He never mentioned her name but he did mention it was his first girlfriend. She didn’t know what to think about that. 

After college, they moved into a small dingy apartment together in London. It was tiny and less than perfect but it was their first place that was just theirs. They spent most of their time there but also wandered into the countryside for some time in silence and calm. There they lay on blankets and looked at the night’s sky, stars glistening above them. 

When Tom applied to RADA, he sat looking at his computer, wondering if it was the right thing to do. She told him it was right for him, she pushed him to follow his dream to go on stage and help him to prepare to speak to his stoic father on his less than approved choice of further education. She did everything she could to help him all through it. The night before he was due to start college, he got in late from his waiting shift and cursed that the barbers were closed when he finished. She took his hair and cut his curls a little just to neaten them. Tom was topless, a slice of toast in his mouth as she did it with a pair of scissors entirely unsuited to the task. When he turned his head for a moment at the sound of a bang from a neighbouring apartment, he caused her to snip a long curl too short. For a moment, the pair stared silently at the curl before they both erupted in giggles. It was not possible to see the short strands in the mess of curls. In jest, she took the snipped curl and placed it in a small plastic bag that housed a spare button in one of her jackets. Tom, who had a polaroid camera as a result of a joke present, took a snap of the two of them. She taped the hair and the date to the back of the photo. ‘Wait and see, this will be worth a fortune someday. You are going to be as big as Branagh or Stewart, I know it.’ She meant it fully. She knew he was something special, that was why she pushed him so much. Tom brought her to him and kissed her. For the rest of the night, they were in one another’s arms, small whispers of love and copious kisses swapped between them. 

But life started to show them that perhaps they were not meant for the same things. Tom got a few small parts in productions. He was starting to get attention from other girls. She knew she could trust him but she also knew that it hurt her more than she could admit to see him pretend to be close to other women. It started to play on her slightly. When the auditions started, she pushed him to go, then secretly wished he would not get certain ones. Looking at herself in the mirror one day, she realised it was hurting too much. There was never a chance she would ask Tom not to continue to pursue his dream. Her problem was hers. It took another week but she finally spoke to Tom. She knew she had to ensure he never thought he was at fault. Seeing his eyes show his emotion as she spoke the words she wished she did not have to say broke her heart all the more. They both cried that night. He begged her to not leave but she knew she had to. He pleaded with her to tell him what he could do to change it but she said more and more that it wasn’t him, it was her. She tried to break down her hangups, but she couldn’t. Tom asked that they just spend one last weekend as a couple. They did. In one another’s arms, she swore it was not him, that she wanted him to wow the world with his talent. 

Moving out her things crushed her. Tom was busy with college so he was not there for the worst of it. Some of her favourite moments they shared, she put carefully into a box to bring her. The box she was looking into sadly at that moment. The polaroid in her hand. On the back, the curl still there. 

She tried to find happiness through time after. She dated multiple men but 99% of them never got past the first date. No one could fault her for trying, but the longest lasted only four months. No one mentioned it anymore. She had tried but no man ever made her feel like Tom did. Her career was good, she spent her life going around the world, translating for all sorts of things. She had seen everywhere she ever wanted to see, though some places came with a pang of sadness having previously been there or planned to go there with Tom. She wished sometimes that they had stayed in touch but she needed the clean break. She wanted to show him the places she went but she didn’t have the means to contact him again. She regretted that now. 

Placing the box back on the wardrobe, she knew the day would come that she would need to get rid of that box but she couldn’t, not yet. Maybe someday. She looked at the article again. The extensive dating history of Tom Hiddleston, from confirmed girlfriends to rumoured flings and hookups, all of them listed, many worthy of a photograph. But nothing of her. 

She glanced over the words of the article, all filled with an adoration of this English Gentleman, polite, respectful, handsome. This wasn’t news to her, she knew it from the start. The hoards of adoring fans who loved him without falter were mentioned. 

But she loved him first. 

Samson Lyrics 

Lyrics You are my sweetest downfall I loved you first, I loved you first Beneath the sheets of paper lies my truth I have to go, I have to go Your hair was long when we first met Samson went back to bed Not much hair left on his head He ate a slice of Wonder Bread And went right back to bed And the history books forgot about us And the Bible didn't mention us And the Bible didn't mention us, not even once You are my sweetest downfall I loved you first, I loved you first Beneath the stars came fallin' on our heads But they're just old light, they're just old light Your hair was long when we first met Samson came to my bed Told me that my hair was red Told me I was beautiful And came into my bed Oh, I cut his hair myself one night A pair of dull scissors in the yellow light And he told me that I'd done alright And kissed me 'til the mornin' light, the mornin' light And he kissed me 'til the mornin' light Samson went back to bed Not much hair left on his head He ate a slice of Wonder Bread And went right back to bed Oh, we couldn't bring the columns down Yeah, we couldn't destroy a single one And the history books forgot about us And the Bible didn't mention us, not even once You are my sweetest downfall I loved you first

[slvtbible]

I should’ve walked away | pt. 2

[In which he says everything he needs to say]

Warnings: mentions of terminal illness, tears, curse words

[If this sucks i’m sorry:/ i have never been good with part twos unlike some other talented writers out there, who are killing it lol]

[But anyways, i hope you guys like this. Sorry for taking this so long!]

**

You thought that heartbreak will only last for a couple weeks. But you were wrong about that.

The night after you left the party was also the night you went back home to your small apartment. You blocked his number right after you reached your home, have no absolutely intention on rekindling the relationship,

You called your mother and told her about everything whilst your cried. She tried to calm you down but it didn’t work. You weren’t crying over the fact that your relationship with Harry had ended, but you were crying over how completely different Harry was that night. And how his friends were no better than him. That broke your heart to pieces, because you had been together for three years and expected that Harry was the guy that everyone talked about on the media. Yet, they proved you wrong.

Sobs were uncontrolled as you cried to your mom, cursing him over and over but surprisingly, although you told your mom how disrespectful Harry and his friends had been to both of you, she only sighed to herself and smiled softly. Knowing that this would happen either way, because your family were never been blessed with good wealth and people will always look down on you no matter what. She knew that already so she wasn’t disappointed nor hurt.

But she also knew Harry is a good person. Though only had a chance of meeting him once, he was the most polite and kindest man you have ever dated. She told you herself and she remembered how pink your cheeks were when you blushed, it was truly the most heartwarming and cutest thing your mother ever had to witness.

Now, those days were over. To you. You swore to yourself to never ever fall back to the arms of a man who is disrespectful towards your mother.

It is four months later after your break up with Harry and you’d be lying if you say you didn’t miss him. During work or during your sleepless nights, he would always manage to find his way to sneak in to your mind and it’s hard for you to get rid of those thoughts.

Harry is suffering just the same as you. Perhaps even worse.

He is not himself anymore. After he spat those terrible things towards the only woman he’s ever loved and he’s ever going to marry, he could never forgive himself. He blames himself for your departure, he curses himself for using your insecurities against you and that was not fair.

He’s very much aware of how privileged he is and so are the people around him, yet he decided to go and rub it on your face. Even made fun of your mother’s income. His mother would be livid if she finds out how terrible he treated you. Anne favours you very much, she always have.

**

This year, turns out to be a not pretty good year for you. Your mother had informed you four months ago that your sister, have been adapted with cancer. Both treatments and surgery costs $30,000 combined and you have no idea how to earn that much money in less than three months to pay for them all. Especially when you only have one job while you have classes to attend to. 

But you made up your mind. You decided to drop out of college and started to take three jobs—which are not really helping at all, the money aren’t enough just yet— to pay for the surgery. The university offers you to pay for all of your tuition including the living costs, in order for you to stay because you’re one of the best students and they don’t want to let you go.

However, you declined. It’s not fair and you have always been taught by your parents to work hard on your own. Earn your money and one day all of your blood, sweat and tears will pay off. Someday.

“Want me to close this one up, darling?”

Your lovely co-worker, Maria asks. She’s a couple years older than your mom and have been nothing but nice to you ever since you applied for this job. She knows all about your problem as well. Harry, his friends, the money, everything and she doesn’t judge you. You’re grateful for that,

With a smile, you nod your head softly at her as your eyes starting to get heavier. “Are you fine with that? Don’t wanna be a bother”

Maria scoffs, waving you off as she locks the cabinet. “You were never a bother, Y/N. Go get some rest, you do have another job to work at tomorrow don’t you?”

Again, you nod. Untying your white apron and fold it neatly, putting it inside your tote bag. You hug Maria as you thank her and kisses her cheek before walking out of the shop to walk home,

You see, for the past four months you work as a bartender on Monday, Tuesday, and Thursday, from 11 am - 3 am. A waitress at a diner on Wednesday and Friday, from 6.30 am - 12 pm and babysitting on Saturday. So the only day you don’t have work is Sunday, where you spend it almost everyday just sleeping. Wether in your bed or the couch.

Tired is the perfect description about your daily life. Though your friends are all dying to meet up with you, you know you can’t. You have absolutely no social life and you’re just waiting for all of this to end. But you’re not sure when.

As soon as you step inside your small apartment, you lock the door and throw your keys on the counter before walking upstairs and run yourself a bath. You decide to spoil yourself for a few moments then go to bed,

**

Harry is suffering.

His days are supposed to be the days where he should write new songs for his next album. But the papers are only filled with dozens of messages he wanted to say to you. Crumpled and ruined. In which he have no slight intention on throwing them away because the paper is the only source he gets to say what he wants to say. And he can’t no longer say them to you,

He knows you’ve blocked his number, he’s hurt to say at least. Numerous voicemails and messages he sent were left unopened. The thing that drives him even crazier is that he doesn’t even know where you live! He needs to know wether you’re okay or not, are you eating well enough, drink enough water or not. Or have you found someone else that can love and care for you the way he does?

The thought of you finding someone else hurt his heart but he understands why. He has to. You’ve put up with his shit—his friends included— longer than anyone else does. That’s why he loves you.

His tears hasn’t stopped either. Everyday he wakes up, and finds himself crying over you, wanting you back in his arms. Every night he falls asleep with the thought of you on his mind makes him cry while he hugs your perfume scented pillow tightly against his chest. If he can’t hold you close to his heart then maybe your pillow will do.

“You want anything, mate?” Jeff swings the door open, voice fills with concern and fear. Ever since that night happened, Harry has done nothing but cold to his friends. Except for his band.

He shakes his head, rubbing his slightly red nose with his eyes glued on the journal. “No.”

With his one simple worded answer only leaves Jeff to nod his head, grabbing his black coat from the sofa and walk out of the studio.

Mitch looks over at Sarah for a split second before settling his eyes back on the piece of white paper,

“Have you... tried to talk to her? Perhaps, reach out to her again.” Mitch asks, carefully looking up.

Mitch learns that whenever he or anyone for that matter mentions your name, he gets aggressive then cries. So he reminds himself everyday and to everyone to be careful everytime they want to speak with Harry. He’s a fragile human being right now,

Harry lets out a small sarcastic laugh, closing his journal and lean his back against the couch. “Of course i did. Many times. But she never even answered my call or text. Her friend Jenna left me on read when i asked her to tell me about how Y/N is doing. It’s hopeless, besides it’s months ago. I bet Y/N has already forgotten about me.”

His voice cracks as the last sentence comes falls from his lips. Grabbing a water bottle from the table, he takes a slow sip as his eyes begins to water and he has to inhale deeply to keep them from falling,

Sarah looks down, sighing to herself. “You’re saying that as if it’s her fault for forgetting about you that fast.”

“I wasn’t-“

“Need i to remind you that you were the one who compared her to Kendall. From her appearance to her income. Her job wasn’t fancy or popular, yeah i get that but she was struggling, Harry. Did you ever learn that your girlfriend was an immigrant when she came here? Finding a job with such a reputation was hard for people like her! They don’t immediately give you the chance to work as models, fashion stylists or musical producers like us! Think about that Harry. Or were you too wrapped up around Kendall’s or any Victoria’s Secret models fingers that you had the audacity to bring your ex girlfriend down like that!”

“Sarah” Mitch tries, trying to keep her calm,

But she isn’t having any of it. “No, Mitch he needs to hear this!” She protests as she looks over at Mitch then back again at Harry. “You out of all people should know that! You were her boyfriend for fuck sake! And she didn’t need any of you snobby asses to remind her where her insecurities lay! She already knows she don’t fit in! She knows her place Harry, and she knows she’s not as pretty as Kendall Jenner, Camille, or Georgia or Nadine. Stop moping around and hope that people will have sympathy for you because you don’t deserve mine!” She snaps, breathing in heavily and stands up to walk away, trying to calm her down,

Harry is struck. Sarah is known to be one of those people who rarely gets angry because she seems to be walking in a ray of sunshine everyday, a sweet smile never leaves her face. As if there’s nothing can bring her down.

But today is completely different, Harry watched Sarah as she outed everything she had deep down in her heart. You and Sarah have always been so close, you two are like one of those two best friends in high school. The Betty to her Veronica. And to see Harry broke your heart, played a insecurity against you made her cry too. She was disappointed in Harry.

Still, Harry can’t accept the fact that Sarah put all the blame on him when you were the one who chose to walk away.

“I love her, Sarah. What makes you think that i would intentionally hurt her like that? That night, she was the one who walked out on me. I told her that i would help her, support her, financially and emotionally. She was my girlfriend but she left!” He bursts, looking up at his bandmate with his nose flaring in anger,

Sarah looks at him in disbelief and lets out a sarcastic laugh. “And have you, really?” She questions, crossing her arms over her chest. “You know, she thought about leaving you for a long time Harry. Way before we celebrated your victory win at that club. But she stayed. Did you know? She fucking stayed. Because to her it didn’t matter if the world was against her, if the fans hated the two of you together, or even if your exes stared her down like she was a peasant. All she ever needed was you. You and Y/N against the fucking world.”

Sarah leaves it at that, before walking away from the two of them. She needs to cool down before she completely loses it,

Harry looks down on his lap, taking each and every word of hers and input them in his brain. He bites down his lip trying to contain the tears that are threatening to spill from his eyes. He presses the home button of his phone and see a picture of you laying on the bed, wearing nothing but a white duvet to cover your naked body. A toothy grin stretches over your pretty face with your eyes closes a bit,

He smiles sadly at the memory. He remembers taking the picture on the next morning after making love to you all night. It was the best night of his life, he got to hold the woman of his dreams and the dimpled smile never leave his face. He wishes he never let you walk away. He should’ve beg you to stay that night. He swears that the day after he met you, he would leave his career and dreams behind if it means being with you forever. Yes. He thought of forever and it doesn’t scared him. But it’s all too late is it?

“I miss you” he whispers, tracing a finger over your picture on his wallpaper. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m really sorry.” He gives a small peck on his phone where your lips are, imagining that you were also there with him.

It doesn’t matter if it hurts him. Because nothing compares to what he has done to you few months ago

**

“Here are your hot cakes and coffee?” You smile sweetly at the customer, placing her orders on the table,

“Thank you, can i have a napkin please?” The customer smiles back, reaching over for the coffee and take a sip,

You nod your head, telling her that you’ll be right back before going over behind the counter and grabs a pink napkin, handing it to her.

“Is lover boy coming today?” Maria asks, as she places the order on the tray and giving it to you,

Rolling your eyes, you tell her to knock it off. Earning a loud giggle falls from her lips,

“What? That man has done nothing but come here to see you. And he only comes to your shifts! Don’t tell me that he’s not in love with you”

“Maria, no!” You laugh, picking up the tray full of food and handing it to the other waitress, “he’s just been so... supportive of me. I mean-he’s been helping me taking care of my mom and sister. Did you know that he offers to pay Beatrice’s surgery?”

Maria gapes, halting her moves as she stares at you. “That’s amazing!”

However you give her a look and a slight chuckle. “Don’t get too excited, i turned that offer down.”

The answer you give, wipes the bright smile off Maria’s face. “What? Why? Y/N! A kind and handsome man who’s been there for you through these past difficult months offers you to pay your sister’s surgery and you said no? Are you kidding me, honey?”

Nope. You aren’t. Sure it sounds good to have someone pay for something so important and urgent but you can’t let him do it. Not when this man is associated with your one and only former boyfriend who has the same circle of friends that will tear you apart all over again. You can’t go through the same thing twice.

Yes. Former boyfriend as in Harry Edward Styles. Dean is his right hand when it comes to writing the lyrics. He participates 80% on his first solo album, meaning that he plays a big role on his music and that’s very important to him. Dean is one of Harry’s good friends as well, though you had never seen them hang out that much.

The two of you have become close after your messy break up with Harry. Dean reached out to you and sent his love, and truly you didn’t expect that. You’ve never interacted with Dean before then to found out that he called you by his number, left you surprised. In a good way.

Ever since, Dean has been very kind and supportive towards you. He takes you home sometimes, whenever he gets the chance. He brings you food at late night though you tell him numerous times that you weren’t hungry, he knows you’re lying so he did it anyway. He knows that you don’t have the best place to lay your head since months ago. The small and crappy apartment that you only managed to afford for now, isn’t exactly the best one yet. People are selling weed and hardcore drugs in the building, you’ve gotten sick of it but you have to hold on.

And again, he offered you to stay at his place because he can’t stand to see you at that state. But you were so head strong that it makes him upset and admired you than he ever did before, you truly are a gift.

You’ve come into a conclusion where Harry prefers to keep his toxic friends closer to him than the ones who actually brings positivity. Dean is obviously the most positive out of them all, well apart from Sarah, Mitch, Adam and you haven’t seen Clare that much.

Dean decides to keep this friendship of yours a secret between the two of you. He can’t risk of getting caught by Harry and neither can you, Harry will tear him to limbs if he finds out that his best friend is talking with his ex who he still loves dearly.

Harry does talk about you to him all the time. How he cries at night for hours and how stupid he was to let go the only good thing in his life. Sure, Dean feels guilty about it but Harry should’ve known better than playing the victim in front of him. You were the one who got walked over by Harry and his friends, the one who puts up with his shit despite the hate and the judgemental looks, you’re working your ass off to earn money though it’s not one of those jobs that you can be proudly show them off.

Dean maybe his best friend but he disagrees with everything that Harry had done. And he just felt so bad that he wasn’t there that night to stopped them.

Rolling your eyes again, you give her a lopsided smile. “I’m not kidding, Maria. I’m gonna work to get that money, by myself. I admit, i would be glad to take the money from Dean but it’s not fair. So I won’t do that.”

Maria sighs, but a smile is playing on her lips. She completely adores you, the hard work you have given throughout these past few months she has seen you, never fails to make her heart melts. The love you have for your family is completely indescribable. And she prays that you’ll hold on to that,

“Okay, then suit yourself. Now, go ahead and brings this order to the coupl right over there.” Maria points with her thumb, sliding the tray to you. “I think there’s someone outside would love to meet you”,

In confusion, you turn your head around and spot a familiar young man with brown hair smiling softly at you. He gives you a gentle wave as soon as you turn around, mirroring his smile.

You hold your finger up, telling him to wait for a minute before taking the tray off the counter and place it on the couple’s table next to the window. Maria glances at you and gives a playful smile which you silently tell her to knock it off,

Dean is leaning against his car with hands in his pockets when you walk out, smiling over at you before regaining his posture to stand straight. A shy smile casts over your lips when the two of you greet with a friendly hug,

“Hey. What are you doing here?” You ask soon as the both of you pull away from each other’s embrace. “My shift is almost over.”

He nods, shrugging. “I know, that’s why i’m here.”

You stare at him with a sketchy look on his face, baby blue eyes staring at your brown ones and you can’t read what is going on his mind. “Okay...? what is it?”

“Was just thinking that maybe... you can swing by at the studio today.”

After he mentions the word studio, your face fall. Does he really thinks by bringing you over to the studio where your ex-boyfriend works at is a really good idea? You are not ready to face him nor will you ever be.

You let out a small laugh, “you’re crazy Dean. The answer is no. I don’t want to see Harry”

The way his name rolls out of your tongue feel so strange, considering you haven’t spoken his name for months. And honestly, that name used to give you goosebumps and the cause of your blushing cheeks. But now it doesn’t anymore.

“You don’t have to interact with him! Just stay with me. Besides, it’s not like you will be all alone. Sarah is there, Adam and Mitch are too.”

“They’re Harry’s friends” you state with an obvious tone,

“at the moment, not really. They’re giving him cold looks lately. Won’t speak to him unless for rehearsals and songs writing. Apart from Jeff, Lucy, Don, Annie, Jordan, Kel-”

“Why am i not surprised? Those people are the ones who trash talked about me. Wether it’s in front of Harry or not, and he had no interest on defending me whatsoever.” You cut him off before he can finish, breathing in deep as you recall the last moments you had together with him. “i just-- don’t want to get hurt anymore Dean. And they are not even his friends! They’re using him. They use his name to get into clubs, restaurants, after parties, you name it. As much as he had hurt me, i don’t want him to get hurt. He’s sensitive, you know that.”

Dean only nods, he knows that his friends are nothing but utter scums. He has been observing them for months and he cannot believe that Harry is gullible enough to think that they actually cared for him. They don’t and they never did. It was always him or Mitch who looks out for their green eyed friend, but he shoves him off and tells him to mind his own business. So he left it at that.

Then to see how frustrated you are at this time, he can feel a tug at his heart. You have condoned so many things lately, seeing you’re drowning yourself in bills, taxes, jobs, sweats, tears, makes him want to take your pain away but he doesn’t even know how. 

Harry has hurt you deeply, yet he can’t understand why you still care about him. 

“You don’t have to if you’re uncomfortable.” he says after five minutes of silence. “If i had an ex who treated me like dirt, i wouldn’t want to see her ever again. Probably would run for my life if we were in a room together.”

You let out a small laugh, it’s not really funny but you think that he’s doing that to only lighten up the mood. You gotta give him credit for that.

“I’m sorry Dean, maybe next time yeah?”

**

Harry is now sitting on his car, parked in front of your mother’s house as he thinks about what to say as soon as he walks towards the small house.

He tries so hard to get rid of the redness that is clearly visible on his green irises, but it’s no use. The tears are still falling from his eyes, no matter how many time he tries to get rid of the thoughts when he had hurt you. Seeing you cry was the most heartbreaking sight he could have ever seen, and to know that he was the cause of your tears few months ago he could never ever forgive himself.

Before stepping out of his Range Rover, he takes a deep breath and looks over at the mirror to make himself look presentable. He doesn’t want to look gross or disgusting when meeting your mom. And he definitely doesn’t want her to think that he’s looking like this because of you, he doesn’t want to play the victim. He’s the one in the wrong,

Harry takes long steps towards the house, his body is clad with sapphire blue sweater and a beanie thrown over his head, so that the fans won’t notice that Harry Styles is around.

He doesn’t want to be that guy at the moment. He wants to be just Harry this time. The Harry that is about to ask your mother’s forgiveness in less than few minutes.

His heart beats louder as soon as he hears your mother calls after he knocks on the door. Leg is bouncing rapidly as he waits.

“Just a second!” She calls out, shuffling inside

He can hear her steps getting closer and he feels his palms are sweating. Bottom lip is taken between his teeth, waiting for her to open up the door.

The door swings open suddenly, and your mother’s exhausted face comes into view. Messy dark brown hair is pulled into a bandana, he can tell that she’s about to leave judging from her choice of clothing.

As soon as she looks up, her eyes are widen and her body freezes as she stands in the doorway. Taking in Harry’s appearance, glancing him up and down before letting out a shaky breath.

“Harry... what are you doing here, my love?”

His heart wrenches. After all this time. The talks, the looks, the whispers that had been thrown at both you and her, she still calls him an endearing nickname and nothing breaks him even more than that. He doesn’t deserve that, at all and he should be ashamed of himself

With a soft smile, he nods at her. Pulling his beanie off slowly. “Hi, Mrs. Y/L/N. Can i come in?”

Your mother is struggling what to say, and wether it’s a good idea for her to invite him in. But she knows that what happened in the past, stays in the past and she can never hold a grudge against him. 

Harry is a good man, is what she always says to you. Despite everything, she knows damn well that he is not a bad guy. And she believes that he has a good intention on coming here, she can’t reject that.

She softly nods, a smile pulling into her lips as she opens the door wider to let him in. “Of course, make yourself comfortable.”

He thanks her before stepping inside carefully, his eyes are observing the small place she called home. To say that he’s hurt is an understatement, he pays attention to every small details in the house and noticing that they aren’t in a very good condition. The ceiling has a hole on it and there’s a leak in it too, a big pink bucket sitting on the corner to capture the drops.

The kitchen is a mess. Vegetables are sprawl all over the counter, cups are messily falling over the place as well. He sees there’s a few papers laying on the coffee table, and his heart almost drops when it says ‘Eviction Letter’. There are five of them, and he doesn’t know where your mother will go from there.

He wishes he could help you and your family, but he knows that you won’t approve of him doing so. This hurts his heart more than it should be, he imagined it if it was his mom in this state. He knows damn sure that he will fills her bills with his money,

Your mother motions him to the small dining table, gesturing him to take a seat. “Here you go, mijo. Sit down” She smiles as she takes a seat as well. “Sorry if it’s a mess. Have no time to clean it today.”

Harry waves his hand off, telling her it’s completely fine before taking a seat beside her. Setting down his beanie, he clears his throat before opening his mouth to say something. But nothing comes out.

“What is it Harry? Are you okay, my dear?”

He flinches when her knuckle makes a contact with his cheek, seemingly concerned as she stares at the bags under his eyes and puffy nose which she can only assume that he had been crying for days.

Now, she knows why he’s here,

Looking up to meet your mother’s eyes, he takes a deep breath in as he reminiscing the words in his brain before pulling himself together to speak to her. He doesn’t understand how you mother treats him like her own child this moment, yet he let his friends talked shit about her and you. The love of his life.

“I’m sorry” he croaks out, sniffling as he feels his nose starting to get runny. “i shouldn’t have done it. I love your daughter more than anything in the world and i’m sorry for treating her like shit while we were together. I couldn’t find a reason on why i said all the things to her because i wasn’t thinking. Then i let my friends talked bad about you and that was completely unacceptable.”

Your mother closes her eyes for a while, sighing as she nods. She listens to every word he says to her. Her hand coming down to rub his arm slowly as he cries, fresh tears are running down his soft stubbled cheeks and he cannot stop them. No matter how many times he tries to wipe them off,

“She’s an amazing woman. And you are too, Mrs. Y/L/N. I’m sorry for being such a coward. I’m sorry for not defending you and Y/N. I’m sorry that i had the nerves to let my friends got away with the words they had thrown about you. Words cannot express how sorry i am because my mother would be livid if i treated the both of you this way.” He chuckles sadly, remembering the times where Anne would just love to give him lectures and scolds about how to treat a woman right,

‘You’re a handsome boy. Don’t go around breaking girls’s hearts, yeah? Because that will break mine too.’

“But, i hope you can forgive me Mrs. Y/L/N. I know i have no rights to say it but i hope you can.” He whispers the last sentence and lean his back against the chair, fiddling with his thumbs with his eyes looking down on his lap,

It takes a while for your mother to process all of this, and it’s not easy. She appreciates every word he had just said and she knows that Harry meant every word of it. She believes him. He’s a very good and well-mannered young man and sometimes she feels sorry of how his friends treat him like he doesn’t matter, how they can just use him for their own pleasure then discard him like a piece of garbage.

She can’t lie to him if you don’t love him anymore. You still do, but you just don’t want to admit it. Every day your heart breaks a little when the thought of not having him by your side anymore.

“I believe you, Harry. I do.” She speak with a soft smile. He looks up to her with eyes brimming red, face looking skeptical because he can’t believe the words just comes out of your mother’s mouth. “And... Y/N, she still loves you too.”

For the first time in months, his lips pulls into a genuine smile as he no longer bother to cry again. He sits up straight, leaning forward to place his arms on the table. “She does, huh?”

Your mother gives him a wide smile as she nods. “She’s just a little stubborn to admit that. You know how Y/N is, right?”

Harry lets out a small laugh, nodding his head eagerly as he remembers how hard-headed you were while the two of you were together,

“Classic Y/N” He shakes his head, suddenly missing you more than ever. “Are you going out, Mrs. Y/L/N?” He asks, changing the subject,

Your mother checks her watch and curses before standing. “I am, thanks for reminding me Harry. I appreciate you coming in here, Harry thank you.”

He hugs your mother and kisses her cheeks before pulling away from the embrace. “Where are you going? I can drop you off.” He offers, grabbing the keys from the table,

Your mother is quick to shake her head, grabbing her brown coat from the rack as she slips in on her body. “No need my love, i’ll walk.”

And in that time, she also panics. Panic because she can’t just say that she’s going to the hospital to see your sister. He’ll freak out and ended up insisting to drive her there,

“Nonsense, I’ll take you it’s fine. Just tell me where to go.”

She learns that Harry is stubborn as well. He looks at her pleadingly, and she thinks that it doesn’t matter how many times she’ll turn him down because it won’t work. He just keeps on asking and asking until she says yes. 

“To the hospital, my love.” She whispers, opening the door so the two of them can walk out,

But before Harry can take a step, the colour drains from his face and his rosy lips tremble soon as the word hospital fall from your mother’s lips. Thoughts are running on his mind as he thinks the worst possible reason on why your mother is going to the hospital with a sad look on her face.

Is your mother okay? Are you hurt? Were you in an accident or sick? Why didn’t you just tell him? Why did your mother invited him in when she was going to the hospital?

Smiling sadly, she extends her hand for him to take.

“I’ll explain in car, okay?”

**

“Maria! Can i take a rain check?” You call her out from the kitchen, busy dropping the dirty plates on the sink as you hurriedly pull the strings of your apron,

Maria barges in minutes later, her nose puffing as heavy breathe emerges from her mouth. She grabs her small towel and wipe the sweat that is forming on the crease of her forehead and down to her neck,

“Why? What happened?” She asks, eyes looking at you concerned with her hands settle on her hips. “Was it the landlord again? What was he saying?”

You shake your head, pulling your hair into a messy bun fast before checking your phone again to see if there is anymore messages from your mom,

“No. My mom told me to come to the hospital quickly. I don’t know why but it could have something to do with Beatrice. I have to get there quick.” You stumble with your words, thoughts are running through your head as you panic. Small tears starting to prickle from your brown eyes, you have no idea what to do if your mother is about to hit you with bad news. You can’t cope with that,

Maria rushes over to you and places her palms on your cheeks, trying to get you to look at her as she sees how much of a mess you are right now. “hey, hey. Stop it. Don’t over think something, Y/N. Everything is going to be okay, alright? Don’t stress this much. Your sister is fine, your mom is fine. She’s probably asking you to come over because Beatrice asked her to. You haven’t seen her in a while, right?”

You sigh, nodding your head slowly as she wipes off your tears. “yeah. Been so occupied with work i never got to see her in a month, i’m such a terrible sister.”

“You are everything but terrible! I have never seen a woman worked so hard in her life to help her family. I have never seen a woman sacrificed her school just so she can work to pay her family’s bills and sister’s surgery. I have never seen a woman so independent that she does not need a man to take care of her because she knows, she can handle herself well!” Maria snaps, eyebrows furrowing as her eyes stare at yours.

“Now, you’re going to take back everything you just said to me and get your ass to the hospital, sweetheart. Your family needs you more than this diner does. i’ll cover for you, don’t worry” She says, kicking her chin up to get you moving so you don’t have to take long.

She grabs your purse and jacket, shoving them to your hands then scrambles around the kitchen to find your house keys because she knows how clumsy you are with them. Good thing you don’t have a car, or else you would lose both of them.

“Here. Don’t rush okay? Take your time and let me know.” She softly says, kissing your forehead,

The love you have for her is indescribable. You look up to her after your dear mother, you rarely gets to see her these past few months and the only person that has the personality and mind as close as hers is Maria. 

With a nod, you hug her tight closely to your body. “Thank you so much Maria. I’ll pay you back, i promise.”

Maria rolls her eyes playfully and shushes you, “aish! No need to dear. Go on now. Don’t forget to text me!” She reminds you again, pointing her red manicured nail finger at you,

Without doing anything else, you swiftly turn around and head towards the exit to haul a cab. You usually prefer to take the bus than a cab or uber, but the station is 20 minutes away from the diner you work at and you have no time to reach there. 

Your mother has been blowing up your phone with dozens of texts, adding exclamation marks at the end of every sentences and nothing worries you more than that. Well not really. You’re scared that something already happened with Beatrice and then it would already be way too late to save her. Maybe that’s why your mom is sending you texts every minute...

To be honest, you have no idea why out of positive things that you can think of, the horrible thoughts manage to make their way to your brain and causes you much of a distress and nerves. You can’t contain them.

You’re pulling and tugging the strings of your jacket then switches to play with the hem of your diner uniform because of how nervous you get. Haven’t even realised that you’re biting down your soft lip too hard until your tongue manage to swipe your lower lip and taste a familiar metallic liquid, making you stop.

The driver parks the vehicle in front of the hospital lobby, and you’re way too deep in your thoughts that you really have no idea, you have arrived at the building. Pulling out a ten dollar cash, you shove the crumpled money towards the driver before stepping out of the car and rushes over to the receptionist and asks where your sister’s room is. 

And for Heaven’s sake! Can they go any slower?

“Room 187. Just straight towards the hall and the room is on your left” The middles age woman gives you a tight smile before resuming to type obnoxiously on her keyboard,

Muttering out a faint ‘thanks’, you fasten your pace quickly towards her room as you feel your heart beats louder and a small sweat forming on your neck as well on your forehead. You pray to God that nothing will happen to your sister.

She’s just a baby,

You waste no time to swing the door open when you spot the room already and soon your mother figure and your paled sister comes in view, they shifts their eyes to you and breathes out a sigh of relief. Your mother smiles at you and gives you a hug, letting it lingers for a while before pulling away.

“Thank God, you’re here.” She sighs, looking at you in the eyes. “What took you so long?”

Pulling your jacket off, not once your eyes leaves your mother’s neither on your sister’s. “What happened? Is she okay?”

Beatrice looks over at you and smile weakly before coughing furiously, lifting her arms slowly at you. “Y/N” She croaks, holding another cough in her throat. “I’m so glad you’re here”

Tears welled up in your eyes as you smile back, taking slow steps closer to the bed and gently wrap your arms around your baby sister’s fragile body. Sobs breaks out of you when you pull away from the embrace, but your hands still tightly wrap around hers, not wanting to let go.

“I’m sorry for not being around much. How are you feeling?” You softly ask her, moving your arm a little to not nudge her injected dorsal palm. 

She nods, eyes turning into slit and you can only assume that she’s pretty much exhausted. Perhaps from waiting for you and the dozens of medications they keep giving her. “I’m okay. Was just... waiting for you.”

You reply with a smile, gazing at her with much love and admirable in your eyes. The moment soon cuts off when your mother brings up a topic that had your eyes nearly pops out of their sockets.

“Pay her surgery? What? Who” You demand an answer from your mother, though you can see how she struggles not to say any word. But it’s too late to back out, your mother chooses to say it. “Tell me, who mama. Was it--was it, Dean?”

She’s quick to shake her head, moving her seat closer to sit by the bed so she can talk better with you. You watch as few strands of her dark brown hair falls to cover her eyes, causing her to push the hair back behind her ear.

“No, chica. it’s not... him. It was someone else” She speaks, hands intertwining as her voice gets lower, as if she’s afraid that you will break into a rage once you finds out who it is.

Feeling frustrated and annoyed, you give her a cold laugh. Eyes moving back and forth to look at her then back to your sister, who’s breathing is heavy and slow. You wish you can take the pain away from her.

“Are you just going to keep me waiting or what?” You ask with a rough tone in your voice. You don’t want to be mad or pissed, but you have sworn to yourself and to your family that you will pay your sister’s surgery with your own money. it’s a risk but she finds it better than to have herself rely on someone else’s cash.

The silence is driving you crazy. Because you try to get her to say what she wanted to say yet she can’t seem to find the courage in her to say it. Your mother looks down on her lap, debating on wether she should say it but mostly, she’s mentally beating herself up for speaking out too fast.

“It’s Harry.” You mother says at least, eyes looking up as she waits for you to burst out any second.

Then your face paled, brows furrowing as you retreat your hands from your sister’s causing her to whimper at the sudden contact. You cannot believe your ears! Is your mother insane or hallucinating?

“Harry? What the hell are you on about, Mom! This is not funny.” You snap, eyes burning in anger as you think to yourself how stupid and inconsiderate her mother is that she can pull out a joke at the time like this. “Come off with it, mama! Don’t fuck around!”

Suddenly your mother’s fear and concern turns into an anger soon as she hears you spoke the word. She sits up straight and lean forward. “Listen here Y/N. You will not talk to your mother with that kind of tone and words. You’re still my daughter and i’m still your mother. Respect me as your own or so help me God, i will kick you out of our lives!”

She finishes with a heavy breathing, glancing at Beatrice for a moment as she pleads to her to not start any fight. Your mother feels guilty afterwards, she shouldn’t have done it at the hospital. That’s just going to hurt your sister alot more.

You take a deep breath, nodding at your mother but still you’re upset and confuse of how your mother could bring up Harry this moment. You want to know why.

“I’m sorry. But please, explain to me what’s going on. What are you talking about? He didn’t even know you exist mom!” you jokingly add the last one but still manage to keep your tone firm. “Just tell me the truth. I won’t get mad.”

“He came to my house earlier. We... talked about something. Then he offered to drive me here and i told him why i had to go to the hospital. He broke down as soon as i told him what happened to Beatrice, my love. He cried... extremely hard and asked me how i was going to pay for all of this.” She explains, voice gentle as she traces her thumb over Sofia’s palm. “I told him that you’re paying. And that you had to quit school just so you can have three jobs to pay her surgery. He didn’t like the sound of that, chica. He knows how much you love your studies, so he can’t bare it. He wanted to pay for it all.”

“He’s a good man, Y/N. Please, you need to give him a chance.” Beatrice pleads, voice breaking as she speaks but you ignore her.

You sit there speechless. How dare for him to came to your mother’s house, asking for forgiveness and pay for all your sister’s medical surgery then hoped everything will turn out fine! That is not how it should goes and you can’t believe your mother would believed that man after he lets his friends said about your family. Your mother forgives way too easy and it has always been a trait of hers you particularly dislike.

“What the-” You stand up quickly, going to the other side of the room, pacing back and forth because you have no idea how to fucking deal with this. “How did he even find you? Mom, we can’t trust him okay? This has nothing to do with my break-up with him but who knows what he will about to say next! He would probably rant this shit out to his friends and i will no-”

“Carmen, i got you the caramel macchiato hope you like it. The espresso ran out. The line was super long.” A familiar voice cuts you off with a small chuckle follows after. 

It’s Harry.

His eyes moves from your mother’s figure to your eyes and shock is evident on his beautiful face. Breathing stops and mouth parts open as he struggles what to say next. He can sense that he’s about to loose his grip around the coffees.

You’re here. You’re really here.

“Y/N, y-you’re-” He says, still looking at you,

You scoff, not in the mood for any of this. “Save it. I’m gonna get some fresh air.” After that, you quickly move towards the door and shoves him with your shoulder, walking out of the room as you runs to exit the building.

Tears starts to stream down your face. After not seeing him for months, he’s finally there standing in your sister’s room. Thoughts are running on your head, not knowing how to face him nor your mother at this point. You should feel happy and grateful that Harry offered to pay but you don’t want to be someone else’s gossip anymore. This is completely bullshit and you refuse to even stand near him after your break-up.

“Y/N! Wait!” He calls out, you crane your neck briefly to see him running to you, nearly knocking a few people. “Slow down, please! I want to talk to you”

You don’t listen, you keep walking and walking as you finally walk out of the building. Breathing out a shaky breath, you pull out a pack of cigarette from your purse as you struggle to take one stick out.

You heart someone’s panting from behind and you don’t doubt for one bit that it’s not Harry. Hand running over his brown hair as he tries to get closer to you, a frown on his face after he sees you holding something that he hates.

“Y/N, love. Please listen to me.”

Shaking your head, you turn your head about to leave. “No. Leave me alone.”

You haven’t even take a step because Harry has already marches his way towards you and grabs your fore arms, turning you to look at him as you squeal and struggle to let go from his grip.

“Let me go! You don’t deserve to be here. Just go, Harry!” You shakily says, sniffling as your eyes meets his green ones. The eyes that you adore throughout your relationship.

“Not until you listen to me.” He states again, and he hasn’t notice that he’s crying until he sees you. Here, standing close to him with his hands wraps around your delicate ones. “I’m sorry.”

Closing your eyes you look down, shaking your head as you continue to struggle so he can let go of his grip. You don’t want to heart this. You had enough. He hurt you badly that the thought of you talking with him again had not once crossed your mind. 

You miss him but you don’t want to talk to him ever again.

“I was a fucking asshole to you. I was a terrible boyfriend and i let those people got into my head. You were so perfect for me that you’re willing to give up everything including your classes. But i was so blind to see that.” He whispers, sobbing but he keeps maintaining his posture and say what he needs to say because he does not want to lose you again.

“You have done everything for me. Sacrificed nearly everything as well and i didn’t give a single damn about it. They--they were wrong about you. They were wrong about your family, they were wrong about your mother, they were wrong about your background and it pisses me off that it’s all they care about.” He continues, hands slowly falling to rest on your hips and his heart moves a little to see you’re not pushing them away.

“It doesn’t matter, Harry. It doesn’t matter now, you’re too late. I-- i refuse to let you or any of your friends talk like that about me. You have no idea what it’s like okay?!” You yell at his face, hands on his chest to keep him from coming closer. “You have no idea what it’s like to have a mother who doesn’t have a decent job, a father who went to jail for something he didn’t do, a sister who’s life is on a line because i have no fucking idea if she will survives or not!”

You break out into sobs, pouring everything you haven’t got the chance to say to him. He looks hurt. Hurt because he had no idea about everything that has been going on in your family and he’s a fucking dumbass. Why? Why would he hurt you like that?

“People look down on me many times. Including your friends. But i stayed because i loved you, Harry. I loved you fucking much and you didn’t care.” Tears are blurring your vision and it’s pointless to wipe them away, knowing they just keep on coming. “We won’t work. We won’t ever work.” 

He shakes his head, hands grabbing the either side of your face as he forces you to look back at him again. “No. No, no, no, no. We will work. We will, okay? I-- i love you, Y/N. I never stopped, i missed you laying next to me and i missed seeing you looking at your laptop for God knows how long because of school’s paper and it breaks me to hear it from your mom that you quit. I can’t let you do that, i want you to do something that you love. That’s why i’m offering, Y/N.” he reasons, thumbs wiping the salty liquid falling from your eyes.

“I care about them and i care about you. I love you.”

There’s a million reasons why you should give him up at this moment. You can’t bare the thought of getting hurt again in the future, that would be a huge risk. Heartbreak is something that you had overcome for numerous times and you can’t say that it wasn’t a big deal. Because it was. And you don’t know how long you can pull this through. You’ve lost so many good thing in your life and you can’t ask to God to give them back to you.

But, you still love him. Despite everything he had put you through, you still love him. The love in his eyes is undeniable, it’s all for you and not even him can’t deny that. He’s a beautiful person, inside and out. He would never ever had the intentions of hurting someone on purpose. Especially the one he loves. And that is you.

Your mother always says, ‘beautiful person deserves second chances. But remember it’s not the beauty of appearance you should see. It’s their hearts.’ She always reminds you of that with every chance she got.

And maybe... you should.

“Harry... i would be lying if i say i didn’t miss nor love you” You watch as his eyes lights up a little but he knows deep down that he can’t get his hopes up. “I’m not sure how we’re going to do this but... i’m willing you give you a second chance.”

He breathes out a small laugh, nodding his head rapidly as he feels the butterflies erupts his stomach. He truly can’t hide the excitement over the fact you still love him.

“Okay, baby. Okay. I’m just, so glad to have you back. Also i wanted to let you know that i’ve cut ties with all of them. Told them to never speak to me again or there would be a hell to pay.” He assures, biting down his lips trying not to smile hard because he knows for a fact that his cheeks will hurt.

You nod, stretching your lips into a happy smile. “Okay. I’m-- glad to heart that but you shouldn’t hav-”

“No. I should. And i’m glad i did. Fuck them. They have no rights to say that about you.” He scoffs, cursing them over and over in his head. “You’re the love of my life, Y/N. Thank you. Oh my God, thank you baby”. He whispers, slowly leaning into your lips and presses his rosy ones to kiss you,

It catches you off guard but you kiss him back nonetheless, and you feel him smile against your soft lips because you decides to. Nothing truly makes him happier than this. Nothing.

As the two of you disconnect your lips, smile is adorn on both of your faces. Foreheads leaning against eachother, unable to contain the small giggle that escapes from your lips.

“Welcome home, baby”

[arazialotis]

Profile Picture Not Included

Pairing: Jensen x Reader

Word Count: Around 3000

Summary: The reader has been single for a while and has had trouble with dating, even online matches. But with her sister’s need to meddle, giving up may not be as easy as it sounds.

Warnings: Language

Special shout out and thank you @misguidedconqueress for always being there and helping me out!

Obviously I intend no hate or ill wishes to him or his family. This is purely just for writing and wasting my time.

This is purely for a hobby and my enjoyment. Maybe some of you will enjoy it too. I apologize in advance for any mistakes or grammatical/spelling errors. I appreciate any feedback or suggestions!

—–

Online dating… Is that what your life had come to? It was mostly your sister that had convinced you. She had been hounding you since your last breakup; trying to set you up with her friends and coworkers, scheduling get togethers and ‘forgetting’ to mention she was bringing along a male friend or prowling for bait anytime you stepped foot in a bar. So you set up the account to appease her need to dabble in your love life. Even went on dates with a few matches, but ended up only with a couple free meals and disappointment. Needless to say, it had been a few weeks since you pursued other matches.

Your phone buzzed, your sister was ringing. “Hey, Sherri what’s up?”

“I just thought I should tell you, I scheduled a date for you tonight.” She blurted out.

You rolled your eyes. “Sherri, come on. I need a break from divorced attorneys and college bros.”

“Just hear me out. This guy seems really promising, like a 94% match.” She babbled.

“… Wait, you were on my profile?” You accused her.

“What?” She defended. “I thought it could be pizzazzed up a bit.”

“Oh my god.” You logged on to see what damage she had done.

“Well, maybe if you used a password unrelated to Jensen Ackles, perhaps it wouldn’t be so easy for me to hack in.” She argued.

Thankfully, she hadn’t messed around too much. She just updated the profile picture and added some extra information to your bio. You looked through your recent matches. “Okay, so who’s the guy?”

“His name is Jay Akens… I thought it sounded similar to Jensen’s name so you might have a slight interest.” She hinted.

You scrolled down to the match and clicked on his profile. “Ugh, he doesn’t even have a picture.”

“Listen, you can’t afford to be choosy. If all you’re hung up on is unreachable celebrities you’re never going to find anyone because your expectations are set to high.” She lectured.

“Well, I have a photo op scheduled with him in two months, so technically he is reachable.” You argued back.

“Yes, I’m sure in all of five seconds, he’s going to fall madly in love with you.” She teased.

“Shut up. I am a rational person, you know. I do realize that something like that would never happen. I just don’t want to fall for the first guy I have the slightest connection with. I’ve done that before…” You started explaining.

Sherri interrupted. “And you got hurt, and you need space to breath, and you want to think about your choices before making a commitment, blah blah blah… Honestly Y/N, you’re becoming a broken record.”

You sighed but didn’t respond.

“It’s not an actual date, just a phone call.” She urged.

You pulled up the conversation Sherri had wrote in your place. “It says he’s in the film business and with no profile pic, you know that means? He’s some pervert living in his mom’s basement and exploring options in the porn industry.”

“It’s just a phone call…” She repeated.

“… Fine, but that’s all I’m signing up for.” You gave in. “And I’m changing my password to something unrelated to Supernatural.”

“So something to do with Doctor Who.” Sherri laughed.

You hung up on her. And kept reading through his bio. Interests include country music, golfing, physical fitness and sports, playing guitar and outdoors. How the hell was this guy a 94% match?

——

Jared bounded across set from the makeup trailers to the bunker where they were shooting most of today’s scenes. Jensen was pacing back and forth reading through the script. The crew started to filter in from a lunch break and got into places.

“Hey.” Jared greeted Jensen.

Jensen immediately picked up on Jared’s odd mood, knowing instantly he was hiding something. “What the hell did you do?”

Jared sat down on the library’s table and raised his hands in defense. “Nothing, nothing… Actually…”

Jensen rubbed his hand on his forehead. “How many people are we going to need to apologize too?”

“It’s not that bad.” Jared whispered.

“Places!” The director yelled.

Jensen and Jared got into position, as the costumes team came in and quickly altered their appearance.

Jared talked over them. “I got you a date.”

Jensen rolled his eyes. “I’m not interested in a date.”

“She’s super cute.” Jared pulled out his phone and handed it to Jensen.

“What the hell is this?” Jensen scrolled through the app.

“It’s your dating profile.” Jared chewed on his lip.

It’s a good thing the director called action, otherwise Jensen may have socked him right there and then. Jensen quickly slipped the phone into his pocket and rolled through the scene.

“Reset! Five minutes!” The director called.

“A dating profile? Are you fucking kidding me?” Jensen whispered to Jared.

“It’s been five months dude, you need to move on.” Jared instructed. Jensen wasn’t buying it. “It’s just a phone call, no sitting down or booty calls required.” Jared assured.

Jensen pulled out the phone again, looking over your profile.

“She has gorgeous eyes, and look at the smile.” Jared nudged him with his elbow.

Jensen couldn’t deny Jared’s comment. He slightly smiled as he read over your profile; Physical Therapist, artistic, avid reader, loves all four seasons, and a little bit of a dork with a side of nerd.

“See…” Jared encouraged. “Just give it a chance. She’s your highest match.”

Jensen scoffed, thinking those formulas were simply made up and selected at random. He clicked back and viewed the profile Jared had set up for him. “Oh come on, you made me sound like a complete douche.” He complained. “Jay Akens?”

“Well, we couldn’t put the real you out there… otherwise every girl would match themselves to you.” Jared explained.

“There’s not even a profile picture, she probably thinks I’m some creep still living in my mom’s basement.” Jensen grumbled.

“Just think of it of it as an opportunity to get over this hump… A way to stimulate the appetite.” Jared teased.

Jensen whacked his shoulder before the director yelled action again.

—-

Your hands were clammy and your heart was racing. ‘Just a phone call. Just a phone call.’ You repeated to yourself over and over. It was 7:30 and he was supposed to be calling you. A few more minutes had passed and you finally released your clutch on the phone and set it down on the counter thinking how amazing it would be if he forgot to call. Not two seconds later the phone buzzed and you silently cursed to yourself.

“Hello?” You sheepishly answered.

“Umm, Hey is this Y/N?” You heard a deep voice ask.

“Yeah, Jay?” You responded.

“Mmhmm.” He confirmed followed by an awkward pause.

You broke the silence. “So, I’m just going to be completely honest. I’ve really slowed down on this whole online dating thing and it was my sister who set this call up.” He softly chuckled. “That is too weird. My friend set up my entire profile and this call, so we’re pretty much in the same boat.”

Maybe that’s why there wasn’t a profile picture, you thought… or he’s still a creep and lying through his teeth. But his voice did sound awfully nice; deep and sexy. Stop imagining things, you scolded yourself trying not to set expectations high as your sister so willingly pointed out earlier in the day.

“So if your friend set up your profile, was he pretty accurate?” You asked.

“I guess so, I kinda sound like a trust fund brat, which I’m definitely not.” He explained.

“Well, what else are you interested in then?” You questioned.

“Umm… Sailing, Clint Eastwood movies, horseback riding… I’m not really helping myself here, am I?” He kicked himself mentally.

“Not really,” You laughed. “But hey, to each his own.”

After another cumbersome pause, Jensen tried again. “So how do you want to do this, alternate questions that each of us have to answer?” He purposed.

“Sure, I have to report something back to my sister so that would help.” You agreed.

“Okay… previous relationships?” He started.

“Jeez, jumping in hot and heavy…” You gritted your teeth.

“Yeah, you’re right, that was a stupid question.” He rubbed the bridge of his nose.

“No, it’s good, let’s just get it all out there now.” You said. “I have been out of a relationship for about a year and a half now. We were college sweethearts, never engaged or married or anything like that. We just got bored and fell out of love I guess. So I’ve been on dates here and there but nothing has really stuck… So now you answer?” You asked, confirming his proposed agenda.

“Yeah… I ended a relationship five months ago. I found out that she was cheating on me repeatedly and was more interested in chasing status and wealth than an actual relationship.” Jensen explained.

“God, that sucks. I’m sorry.” You tried to empathize.

“Don’t be, I was an idiot by not seeing it in the beginning. Your question.” He directed.

“Any kids?” You asked.

“Nope.” He answered.

“Me neither.” You responded.

“Do you want kids?” He questioned.

“Ummm…. If I find the right guy, it might be nice. I guess I’ll figure it out down the road. If the road ever goes that way, that is.” You explained.

“I’ve always wanted a family. White picket fence, dog in the front yard, you know, the American Dream.” He expanded.

“Oh no! Not a dog.” You disagreed.

“Well, the dog isn’t a requirement. I was just trying to paint a picture… I’m pretty indifferent to pets at this point but I’m assuming you are not a dog person.” He slightly chuckled.

“Yeah, not at all. I definitely would want a cat someday.” You confirmed.

“Come on, why cats?” He argued.

“Well, because dogs just love you unconditionally, no matter what you do. With cats you have to earn their trust and respect, and even then it’s not guaranteed. So when a cat loves you, they chose to, it just means more.” You defended.

“That’s kinda weird. Unconditional love is still love. And with that, you know it can never be lost, even if you screw up. ” He disclosed.

“But it you screw up bad enough, perhaps you need a bit of punishment and not just forgiveness so you can learn from your mistakes.” You argued.

“So you’re a masochist.” He giggled.

“What?! Gross. No! Maybe… I don’t know…” You began to blush.

“Okay, I’m sorry, it’s your turn anyways.” He directed.

“Then different topic… You said you’re in the film industry, what does that entail?” You asked.

“Well…” He chewed the side of his cheek wondering how much he should disclose. “I travel a lot between home and Vancouver where we shoot. And yeah, just do a little bit of everything on set.”

Supernatural was shot in Vancouver, you thought. “Do you work on anything I would know?”

“Probably not,” He lied. “Just B horror stuff, I’m hoping to work my way up the ladder though.” “Yeah, definitely nothing I would know then. The last horror movie I saw was the Exorcism of Emily Rose and I couldn’t sleep for like three months.” You confessed. “I can handle the basic spooky tv stuff though, like the X Files.”

“The truth is out there.” Jensen said the tagline. “I want to believe.” You smiled back.

“So what do you do then?” He asked.

“I’m a physical therapist. I do outpatient so typically my patients are well enough to be outside the hospital living at home and have some functioning back. Our goal is just to increase their capabilities.” You explained.

Jensen lightened up. “You know, if I wasn’t going to go into film I wanted to go into physical therapy/sports medicine. I even was accepted into the University of Texas.”

“Oh fun! Deep in the heart of Texas.” You quickly sang and did the clap afterwards. “You know I’m never sure if you are supposed to clap before or after singing Texas.” “No!” He laughed loudly. “You’re supposed to clap before you sing the line altogether.”

You chuckled a bit to before clapping and then singing it over in your head “Are you sure? It doesn’t sound right.”

“I’m fairly confident.” He assured.

“Okay, good to know; even though I’m not sure when I’ll use that again. What made you pick the Longhorns?” You asked.

“Family’s originally from there. I even still got some of that southern drawl, ya’ll.” He slipped into a thick accent.

You laughed. “Alright, I’ll make sure to greet you with a good ‘Howdy partner’ next time we talk.”

“You’d like to talk again?” Jensen hesitantly questioned.

You thought about it, realizing the words had slipped out of your mouth. “Yeah, I guess so.”

Jensen smiled. “Me too.”

“Okay. Well, I guess I’ll talk to you soon?” You timidly asked.

“That’d be nice. Same time next week?” He suggested.

“Sounds good.” You confirmed.

“It’s a date.” Jensen said putting it down in his calendar.

“It was nice talking with you Jay.” You added.

“You too Y/N, have a good night.” He ended.

—-

A month and a half had flown past, your weekly calls with Jay had turned into practically three nights a week. The more you talked with him, the more things seemed to click. You both understood each other in a way you hadn’t with anyone else. And your sister had definitely taken notice. Your coffee get togethers had turned into interrogations.

“Do you just want me to record our conversation next time so you can properly psychoanalyze it?” You proposed.

“That would be very thoughtful, thank you.” She didn’t pick up on your sarcasm.

“I mean, I don’t know what else to tell you. He’s sweet, he’s playful, he’s genuine. He presents himself like he’s the full package.” You explained.

“Then what’s holding you back, take it to the next step.” She urged.

“Well, I’ve told you. He’s mostly in Vancouver, so it would be an expensive trip.” You threw out an excuse.

“Then what’s next, your three hour phone conversations are going to turn into five?” She challenged.

“Did Mom tell you? God, I need to get off the family plan.” You sipped on your coffee.

“And so what, it would be expensive. I happen to know for a fact that you have built up at least three months of PTO and you get paid decently. With hardly any expenses other than rent and loans, you should be rolling in dough.” She accused.

“But he hasn’t even sent me a picture or anything yet, for all I know he’s still just a creep and making up this fake persona.” You reasoned.

“Have you even asked him for one?” She knew you all to well.

“No, but I’ve strongly hinted.” You defended. “I can’t even find him on Facebook or anything. It’s like he doesn’t exist.”

“So the only way you are ever going to know, is if you set something up.” She pressured.

“If he was truly interested he would suggest it first.” You argued.

“Y/N, wake up! It’s the 21st century! It’s okay for you to make the first move.” She argued back.

“Just call me old fashioned, I would like to be pursued a little bit.” You explained.

“Wait a minute! You’re just waiting for that Supernatural thing, aren’t you.” She tested.

“I’d like to have my options open when the time comes. I can be very convincing in five seconds; if Jensen would just hear me out, I think I could get him to go on a date.” You played, no real seriousness behind it.

“Don’t you pass up something great, for these silly fantasies of yours.” She warned.

Later that night you received a call from Jay. He typically was the one to do the calling as he had explained his schedule could be irregular.

“So, I have a confession…” You began.

“Shoot.” He was eager to hear.

“I’ve slowly started listening to some country music and it’s not all that bad.” You shared.

“Haha! Everyone has a bit of grassroots in them somewhere. And now I can finally say, you convinced me a few weeks back and I purchased some Odesza tracks. You should have seen the looks on the crew’s faces when I started playing them, they were completely shocked.” He laughed.

“You know… I’ve been thinking…” You started.

“Uh-huh.” He encouraged.

“I mean, it’s really my sisters fault for putting the idea in my head, and I know she won’t let it go until it happens…” You backed down, losing courage.

“What is it Y/N? Maybe I’ve been thinking something similar…” He confessed.

You sighed before jumping back in. “What are your thoughts on meeting in real life? Like actually sitting down over dinner….”

“I thought you’d never ask. I’d love to! You have no idea.” He said much to your surprise. “You know, I’m actually going to be out in Indianapolis like in two weeks. I’d be close to you, well closer than Vancouver is to you anyways.” He suggested.

“Like the week of the 23rd?” You asked shocked.

“Yeah.” He confirmed. “… For a business convention.” It technically wasn’t a lie, he told himself.

“That’s so weird, I’m going to be out in Indianapolis that weekend… for a conference.” You fabricated.

“Oh cool, what kind of conference?” He questioned.

“Umm, continuing education, for work.” You expanded the fib, not wanting him to know yet how geeky you really were.

“We should totally meetup! Want to get together that Sunday night?” He suggested.

“That would work perfect. I’ll be there overnight, leaving back to town Monday morning. Oh, but the conference runs pretty much the full day. It’d probably be like a late dinner, like 8:30 or so.” You explained.

“Seriously, it has to be fate. That fits perfectly with my schedule.”

“You’re not going to a conference on lymphoma are you?” You deepened the lie, trying to pull out more information from his end.

“Ah crap! I passed that one up. If I had only known before you were going to be there.” He joked.

“I think dinner will be great though, maybe we can text more details closer to the date.” You suggested.

“Sounds good Y/N. Can’t wait for it. Good night.” “Night Jay.” You ended.

You flopped down on your bed, chewing your lip in anticipation for a very exciting weekend.

— 

Click Here for Part 2

Tags:

Forever Tags: @nanie5 @sea040561 @crushing83 @mogaruke @deanwinchesterforpromqueen @ginamsmith @jotink78 @fallen-castiel @sup3r-pott3r-lock3d @dancingalone21 @li-ssu

JensenxReader: @girl-with-a-fandom-fettish @jensen-gal @be-amaziing @mizzzpink @akshi8278 @beatlesobsessionlove @tiffanycaruso @mywillfulwinchester @boxywrites @its-not-a-tulpa

[hedgiwithapen]

Antumbra

Antumbra: noun. The area outside the darkest shadow of a solar eclipse.

It was sheer luck that the wide space, part desert, part prairie, sand and sagebrush and yellowed grass, was currently being used for tactical practice when, on a clear summer morning, someone sounded the alert. A bright streak arced across the sky, flaming as it crashed. The D.E.O. agents reached the small pod in minutes.

“What is it?” One asked, peering at the singed metal. “An opportunity,” the squad leader replied. “Call base. We need to get this thing underground. Move it, people.” He watched the pod, the way it lay still, a snake waiting to strike. Not if he could help it. He recognized a few of the symbols, soot streaked from entry into Earth’s atmosphere. They would take no chances with the creature inside.

It wasn’t until after the pod was secured in the nearest D.E.O. base, the occupant sedated and locked away without ever seeing sunlight, that news came that a second ship had crashed, this one larger.

Hank Henshaw glared at the man who’d brought the news. His work was never done, but it would be, eventually. It might take years, but Earth would be safe from alien influence under his watch, someday. Until then, he had calls to make, recruits to replace, and assets to acquire. This new Kryptonian had brought disaster, but perhaps it would be useful as well.

(Roughly three years later)

J’onn J’onzz had worn this form--this face-- for months now, but it still felt strange, foreign. Like he was stretched too thin and squeezed too tight, like one of the large earth snakes from the forest he’d hidden in, growing against dying scales. He wanted to shed it, but he didn’t dare. He’d run out of escape routes.  Even in solitude, he could not risk being J’onn, not anymore. Hank Henshaw. That was his name, who he had to be. The problem was, Hank was only skin deep. Even with all the time he’d had trying to train his thoughts, his gate, to turn skittish fear into anger, he had to remain conscious of the role he played. No part of who he had been could leak out, green tint under dark skin.

But he wanted to, especially here, in this work space underground that seemed to sing to his deepest instincts to run, to fly. He knew without doubt that there were no allies here, not any with power. If his deception, his disguise was ever revealed, even the few analysts that seemed like they had a grasp of ethics wouldn’t dare side with him, and the soldiers never would. The captives, the alien criminals kept under lock and key, would be no better, and J’onn knew that even to save his own life he would never release the murderers from their cells. One of the Faceless Hunters, other creatures from planets far beyond the furthest reaches of Martian travel and creatures closer in, nightmare monsters. He was no fool. He knew he was not the only refugee who had come to this place, but those in the cellblocks were not mere travelers who had lost their homes. These were aliens who had taken the fresh start they might have had and thrown it aside for greed, for violence. He would never allow himself to make that same choice, and he could not risk the lives of innocents by using them as cover. He would just have to be careful. He could not afford the cost of being discovered.

It was exhausting. Being Hank Henshaw was so much more than hiding under human skin, behind human eyes and trying not to flinch at open flames. But he learned. He read the files on the computers, feigning memory lapses courtesy of that last failed mission to bring in the Manhunter. He learned what he could, walking the same path into the facility that Hank had, heavy boots and chin up, as if he feared nothing. This was his fortress, his. That meant, to stay safe, he had to act like it.

He had to honor the sacrifice of the man who had died to save him. Jeremiah. He had been an help to another Alien, another peaceful one.  Superman, the press called him, but J’onn had not yet met him--the same alien that had been the cause, he learned, for the D.E.O’s founding. Peaceful or not, hero or not, J’onn was unsure he wanted to get involved--it was far too risky. And his life was no longer his own. He had promised Jeremiah that he would protect his daughter, and an oath sworn as a life-debt to a dying man was not something that could be taken lightly.  In a few years, the girl would be grown, and if she were as smart as her father had claimed, that one night in the jungle, there might be a place for her here.

This would have to be the goal. To slowly fill the ranks of the DEO with those like Alex Danvers, like her late father, perhaps even like he himself--people who wanted to help, not to seek out and destroy. It would take years, but then, J’onn had time, assuming he mastered the part. He was certain he could.

A few weeks after being fully cleared, fully recognized in this second identity, this false name, J’onn’s careful planning almost fell apart.

He had taken to exploring, having little else to occupy non-work hours. He needed to make muscle memory know each corner of the DEO’s underground base, erase any doubt that he was not fit to lead the organization. He read files, histories that only went back a decade or so, and walked the hallways in his heavy boots that reminded him he had to be human. That flying was never again an option.

He wasn’t certain why he had not been aware of one of the cell blocks on the lowest level, deep in the earth until then, but he found it almost by happenstance, drawn to the thin red light. As he approached, wondering what creature was so dangerous that it would be kept here, what crime it might have committed, he saw a small figure trembling in the corner.

He may have worn a human skin, too close and itching to be shrugged off. He may have pressed down the use of his powers, for fear of become dependent upon them. But he did not need anything beyond human eyes to see the small form flinch, to hear whimpering (Ieiu, Ieiu)  in a language he was certain he had heard before, but could not place.

He left just as quickly, his stomach acids protesting what his mind translated. It was a child. The prisoner in the cell was a tiny child, pale and thin. He had not needed to read her mind or understand her words to know she had been terrified. K'hym. T'ania. The memory of the last time he had seen his daughters seared like flame in his mind. Was some parent out there wondering for the fate of their own child? Had his children huddled, alone and terrified in a dark prison cell?

He wanted to vomit, and so he ran, slowing only to a halt when he reached the upper levels and the risk of being seen.

What crime could that pathetic creature have committed to be left in almost total darkness? What if she was like himself? Not one who had chosen this planet in malice but in desperation, alone and frightened, with no Jeremiah Danvers to chose her life over his?

“Sir? Director Henshaw?” a young woman asked, voice clipped. An intern, of sorts, the lowest ranking of the already highly ranked officials and agents permitted to work here. “Are you well?”

“I am fine,” he told her firmly. “I need to check our records for any discrepancies. There’s another audit coming up.”

She winced. That meant budget reviews, an endless stream of meetings if not everything was perfectly documented. “Of course, Sir. Understood.”

He waited until she had scurried off, no doubt to let everyone know to be careful with their paperwork, before sinking into his chair and digging deeper into the files. And there it was, plain text. Project KR Eclipse.

A Kryptonian pod had been found, only miles from the crash site of Fort Rozz, with a lone occupant. Unlike the being that had been labeled the ‘Man of Steel’ by Metropolis’s reporters, this one did not seem to possess that same invulnerability, or strength. Notes from Director Henshaw, the real Director, whose face J’onn now twisted in revulsion, filled the screen, conclusions drawn from what files had be salvaged from Fort Rozz and from tests they had run on the child. Blood tests, brain scans, pages of lists that dated even during the time Henshaw had been dead. Nowhere did it list a crime committed, and the mugshot showed only a pale face, dirt marks on her cheeks, dishwater hair mussed and tangled. J’onn closed the files, closed his eyes, and cursed inwardly. He could not compromise his cover. He could not show kindness or weakness (or the weakness that was kindness in the eyes of humans) without risking being discovered. Then what would be his fate, to die on a steel lab table or languish for centuries in a dark cell until he forgot even his own name? His oath--.

He had abandoned platitudes like “everything happens for a reason” when the White Martians had torn his beloved from his arms. Now he wondered, if this was the reason he had been spared the fate of his people, if this was why the old Director himself had been the one to confront him, if this was why he still breathed when Jeremiah did not. Was this how he was meant to pay forward his debt, a life for a life, one refugee to another?

He had lived more than 300 years, his family was dead.

He took his coat from the hook, and started for the exit.

~~ break ~~

J’onn knocked on the door of the large house, feeling awkward standing on the white-painted porch without his uniform on. As much as he loathed wearing it, being Hank Henshaw with all his weapons, it was a measure of safety. Security. But he stood on the porch in civilian khakis and waited for the door to open.

The blonde woman, whiter than she had seemed in the photograph on file, looked at him, the exasperated smile folding into a tight frown, fear and anger lining the creases around her eyes. She paused, as if trying to find words. He spoke first.

“Mrs. Danvers. May I come in?”

“Doctor,” she corrected as if out of habit, and then realized. “You--No. Get out, get away, leave us alone.”

“Dr. Danvers,” he said, formally, no emotion slipping through to the mask he wore. “It’s urgent. I need to speak with you.”

She shook her head, moving to close the door. He stopped her, but only because desperation demanded it.

“It’s about your husband.” It was, in a roundabout kind of way. “ You got my husband killed.” She did not stumble or stutter over the word. J’onn nodded, solemn. “This is not a conversation for your porch and neighbors to hear, Dr. Danvers,” he said, though there were no neighbors near enough to hear or watch the confrontation.

She opened the door wider. “Come in, then.”

As soon as the door was closed, J’onn closed his eyes. He could not back out now. He needed this woman.

“Your husband was not the only expert on Kryptonians, was he, Dr. Danvers?” She stepped back, shaking her head. “No. No, I will not work for you and your sick organization. I won’t. You took my husband, isn’t that enough for you? That you took him from me, from us, that I had to lie to our daughter, about why he never came home? Now you want me, too? Jeremiah gave you his research, and I don’t know any more than that. Now, get out, Henshaw.”

“My name is not Hank Henshaw,” J���onn said softly. Even if he managed to free the little Kryptonian, he could not give her a home, not when it was so certain he would be trading his own life for hers. She would need someone trustworthy, someone safe. Someone who would protect her.  “Your husband died to save my life. I have to pay that forward, and I need your help. Please.”

He held out a photograph, the one he’d risked printing out. Eliza Danvers took the picture, looking at the girl’s tear and dirt smudged face, then up at J’onn. Slowly, she nodded. “What do you want me to do?”

~~ break ~~

J’onn had done his best to get most of the agents out of the underground facility, dispatching teams as far as Ojai on carefully laid trails after more Fort Rozz escapees--perhaps finding some of them would delay the discovery of a betrayal and an empty cell. More agents he had temporarily assigned to the other bases, or loaned to the military to assist on various projects (and spy on the new General, Sam something or other.) Only a skeleton crew remained, and now, in the hour or so before sunrise, was the best chance there would be. He had done what he could. The rest would be up to H'ronmeer, or Rao, or fate.

The cell door opened under his hand, and the disheveled figure flinched, scrambling backward until she hit the wall, arms raised in defense. In the dim light and shadow, J’onn’s vision faltered for a heartbeat, the Kryptonian girl’s face replaced by T'ania’s before reverting back to her own, bone white, with wide, dark eyes.

"Zha,” she whispered, “Khap zha sem, eiahm sem rraop.” He didn’t understand, exactly, but he didn’t need to to see how terrified she was.

He crouched and held out a hand. “Voi,” he said, the word Eliza had told him meant “safe.” She startled, looking at him, trembling. The fleeting glimpse he had had of her, the picture, had not been much, J’onn realized. She had not just been locked in, but chained, like an animal. Like a monster. Her bare feet looked cracked and bruised, but it may have only been the poor lighting. She looked to be perhaps fourteen, if that, thin and pale. Her eyes were haunted, but she kept her head up. She was brave. A fighter. She would have had to be, to survive here, for so long, but she was tired, leaning against that far wall for support as much as for protection.

She chewed her chapped lip, then whispered, “Voikirium?”

“Voikir--voikirium,” J’onn hoped it meant the same as ‘Voi,’ that she would trust him. They did not have much time. He stepped into the cell, and she did not flinch as he used his master key to undo the manacle at her ankle, watching him silently. He gestured to the door, holding out his hand again. She took a breath, and then his hand, her skin icy against his. He led the way up the least used stairs, the narrowest hallways, grateful for his determination to know every inch of the base. It may not do him much good after today, but that would be alright. The girl stopped short as they reached the last doorway before the final stretch of hall that lead out. She looked up at him, and again he could have sworn that the fluorescent lighting gave her his daughter’s features. He opened the door, and walked quickly, tugging her along. Eliza Danvers would be waiting just beyond the perimeter. He only had to make sure that the child reached her.

No one spotted them as he opened the doors, predawn light spilling in. The girl gave a tiny squeak of fear, but he squeezed her hand. The air was dry, smelling of rabbitbrush and sage, as familiar to J’onn as the scents of the rainforest in Peru had been. But she stopped, breathing in as though her lungs would never be filled, staring up at the pearly sky, her mouth open, her ragged clothing shifting in the faint breeze. Tears glimmered on her cheeks, but she did not move to rub them away, only let them fall.

Over the lip of the mountain in the west, the sun started to rise, golden and warm.

~Fin~

~

The following are loose Kryptionese translations, I did my best with a limited dictionary and grammar rules I tried to learn in like 30 minutes so)

Ieiu - Mother Zha - No

Khap zha sem- I do not want (literally ‘want no I’)

eiahm sem rraop - I beg you (literally ‘beg you I’)

Voi- safe, secure, all right Voikirium - deliverer, rescuer, savior