#somewhere deep in the subconscious the feelings settled ready to be stirred up by sleep

[slavhew]

dreaming of friends

[pose reference: Reunion by Salman Toor (2018)]

[tobealostwanderer]

Padawan

Grogu and Din introduce Luke to a friend

-

Again, I wrote this late at night and I haven't proofread. I am not a great writer but I thought that this was adorable so I wanted to write it down. Slight DinLuke mentions. This story can also be found on Wattpad. Enjoy!

It was a peaceful day at the temple. The padawans had the day of so in turn, Luke had some time to relax. Grogu's adoptive father, a Mandalorian called Din Djarin, would come and pick Grogu up in a few hours to have a father-son day.

Luke knew that the Jedi of old didn't agree to attachments with other people, including parents. But something stirred in him when he first picked up Grogu all those months ago. The Mandalorian and Child had a deep connection that wasn't easily broken. Grogu was practically unmanagable when he joined the newly established Jedi temple, and it wasn't until he got his metal ball, a replacement from what he used to play with on his father's ship, and the promise that his dad would visit him soon that he cooperated in the lessons.

Din visited once every two months and Luke got to know the man behind the helmet a bit. After all, the Mandalorian gave his name to him, which he knew was not commonly done. A tiny smile krept on the Master's face as he remembered that day..

Shaking out of the memory, Luke got up from his desk chair and made his way to the sleeping chambers of his pupils. It was about time he got Grogu ready. There weren't many pupils in Luke's temple. His own nephew wouldn't join until he was old enough to show the signs of the Force, but he was certain that he would grow up to be a powerful Jedi.

Knocking on a wooden door at the end of the hallway, a happy coo was heard. Luke opened the door to see Grogu play with his metal ball. The metal was starting to look less polished because of the creature's clawed, green hands. This obviously didn't bother the little alien as he couldn't be parted with it. Through the Force, Luke could feel Grogu's happiness. He knew what today meant.

As if on cue, the loud rumbling of a spaceship could be heard. Grogu squealed and hobbled to his tiny window as fast as he could. The familiar form of the Razor Crest landed closeby. Luke picked up the green baby and smiled down at him.

"Let's go greet your father, little one" he said with a tiny smile. His robes whooshed as he turned around, his leather boots clicking on the tiles as he powerwalked to the entrance. He too was happy to see the Mandalorian again. He was like a friend to him, although not in the way Han is a friend to him. It felt like... more. Luke had to surpress it though. Some people still remembered the Jedi of old, and remembered their customs. Even though most had forgotten, he still needed to be an example to the galaxy.

As the black-clad man and baby stepped outside, the hull door of the spaceship lowered to the ground. A cloud of dust sprang up as the metal hit the ground. The beskar clad man was quick to make his way to the two people in the yard. Happy to see Grogu for a bit. Grogu, in turn, cooed loudly upon seeing Mando.

"He has been behaving very well. He is slowly picking up his lessons. Every day his connection with the Force grows stronger" the sandy haired man said as he stopped in front of the metal clad bounty hunter. "I'm happy to hear that" the bounty hunter said, stroking the baby's green ears affectionately.

Luke handed Grogu over to Din. "I hope to have him back by dinner-" "Actually," Mando interrupted the Jedi Master. "I was wondering if you would like to join us.. Just for today. I think Grogu would like it" to which the Child indeed cooed loudly, raising a clawed hand towards Luke. "I understand if you are busy but he- we would very much like it"

It wasn't often that he saw the beskar clad man in a nervous state. In fact, he can't remember if he ever got nervous before. But Din was moving his weight from one leg to the other and looking around anywhere but at Luke. It was kind of cute...

Luke stowed away his thoughts for now and just grinned at the tall man in front of him. "I would very much like to. I don't go on many adventures anymore. Let me inform my second in command and I shall join you" he said, staying professional even though there wasn't really any reason to be this professional to the man.

Din nodded and turned to his ship, carrying Grogu to it as Luke made his way to his second in command. He quickly relied the message that he would be gone for the afternoon but would hopefully return before midnight. As he finished instructing the Twi'lek female, he made haste to join the father and son on the ship.

It didn't take long for Luke to be settled in and Mando to start the ship. The planet on which he build the new Jedi temple becoming smaller until he felt the familiar lurch of lightspeed. It took a few seconds before Luke was comfortable enough to talk to the Mandalorian.

"Where are we going?" He first asked. He knew he could look into the Mando's head for answers, but he had too much respect to infiltrate the man's mind. "A planet called Corvus. It isn't the most comfortable planet, but we want you to meet someone." Din responded. Grogu gurgled happily and Luke could vagually make out what he was saying: "Very nice, she is. Helped us, she did".

"Who is 'she'?" Luke asked, more to himself than to the two other beings in the cockpit. But nonetheless Mando responded: "You will see, no need to ruin the surprise".

It took exactly two hours when they started to lower into the atmosphere of Corvus. Luke looked at the fires that spread through it. Like it was never meant to be a forest planet, but trees grew anyway just to burn down because of the drought. As they landed close by a walled village, the white mist was almost omenous as ashes hung in the air.

Luke sensed her. She was somewhere inside the village. She almost seemed familliar even though Luke was certain that he never felt such a Force signature before. Whoever she was, was powerful, and most likely has trained like a Jedi. He wondered if she was interested in joining the Jedi again.

Before he realised it, the trio was decending from the Crest and started to walk into the village. Luke followed Din like an uncertain puppy. Because even though he was strong, he felt very out of place on this planet.

It seemed like the crackling of far away forest fires were always heard. Other than that, and the trio's footsteps, the village was quiet. Not many people were out and about and those that were slunk into the background. Luke had no idea why but he had a feeling that Din has scared these people a little.

It wasn't a big village and soon they were met with double doors. They were already opened, seemingly jammed and melted into place by a familiar weapon. Luke's fingers subconsciously stroked his own Lightsaber as they passed through the beautiful garden and to the last and biggest home in the village.

Before Din could knock, the doors flew open and a Togruta woman stood in front of them. Luke could make out a few wrinkles in her face. Her eyes shone wisdom and loss and on her belt she had two 'saber hilts. Even though he had felt her presence before, he was surprised to see the two powerful weapons hanging from her belt.

"Mando, Grogu. It is very nice to see you again. I see you have found a Jedi to train him? Please, do come in" the woman's smooth voice said. The trio stepped into the home and followed their host to the living room. As they all sat down, Grogu playing with a piece of fabric on the floor, Din introduced the two.

"Luke, this is Ahsoka Tano. Ahsoka, Luke Skywalker." As the words left the Mandalorian's lips, the two people looked at eachother with wide eyes. "That's why you are familiar.. It is a pleasure, Luke, to finally meet you. I knew your parents..." She drifted off, thinking back to her Padawan time, thinking of 'her' Skyguy.

Mando had quietly taken Grogu with him outside to let the two Jedi talk. The moment Ahsoka had spoken, he felt like the two needed to speak in private, and havinf a babbling kid around wouldn't help them get to talking. This was a private moment, he knew.

Back with the two Jedi, Luke carefully placed his hand on Ahsoka's. "I have never met them.. truly met them. But I know they cared for you, miss Tano. Ben told me about you" he said, trying to comfort the Togruta woman. "Please," Ahsoka said "call me Ahsoka. And.. who is Ben, if you don't mind me asking? I don't think I've met one" her mind fluttered through memories, trying to remember a 'Ben'.

"My aunt, uncle and I knew him as Ben Kenobi, but his true name was Obi-Wan Kenobi." Luke said calmly. He could see one hundered emotions go through Ahsoka's eyes. Her Force signature seemed to pulse with the same emotions. Happiness, sadness, admiration, respect, hope, love and grief. "Master Kenobi... I... I felt him join the Force a while ago.." Ahsoka swallowed thickly. "He was a nice man. A very good General. Caring, but he never truly understood Anakin" Ahsoka smiled at a few memories that fluttered through her mind. So strong, that they were projected in Luke's mind. Visions of the start of the Clone Wars projected in his mind. A young Ahsoka standing next to a tall, dark haired man he assumed to be his father, Anakin, and a slightly shorter man with an auburn beard that looked very much like a young Ben Kenobi.

"Sorry" Ahsoka said, as the memories stopped playing. "I don't think back a lot to.. that time. I wish you could've met your father... I still cannot believe he changed to the Dark Side" Ahsoka sighed. She was about to stand up as Luke responded to her: "That is the thing, I have met him. In the end, I got to see him. The real him. Anakin. And though our moment was brief, his love was real, and I am glad to have met him" his words shocked Ahsoka. Tears pricked in her eyes as she looked around the room. "I want to believe you-" she whispered, the tears now streaming down her face.

"He is telling the truth" a voice behind them said. Turning around, the two were met with the blue Force Ghost of Anakin Skywalker. "My son is telling the truth, Snips" a smile formed on Anakin's face as he looked at his old Padawan with fondness.

"Skyguy..."

[shiversdownyerspine]

8. Warm

BEHOLD.

18+...kinda?

The last twinkles of dawn have faded as morning balances on a pin, almost ready to fall into day. It is at this edge that you finally rise and shine.

Except there is no rising and shining, no. There is no wakey wakey eggs and bakey. Why?

Because you are stuck. Stuck between slipping into the waking world or letting yourself drift back into blessed sleep. It's the strangest thing, you can't quite decide what you want so...you'll just have to float among the cozy clouds of indecision for the time being. 

At least for five more minutes.

You're not the only one having trouble. Otto is still stretched out on the sofa with you on top of him, holding him captive. Not that that's what he'd consider to be the problem, however.

As it just so happens, after he had updated his brothers about your condition, he had shifted his position a little. Nothing much, just slipped a leg from its resting place on the cushions and the sofa arm to the floor below. Your furniture was just a little too short for a man of his height to stretch out properly on without his feet dangling off the edge.

This is when his little problem popped up; after he moved, you adjusted your position as well. Still settled between his legs and on his chest, you subconsciously decided to slide your leg up and over his thigh. Settling the pressure of your pelvis right into his.

Thank goodness his brothers were preoccupied; Axel was still in the kitchen cleaning up breakfast, and Oscar was distracted with the kittens on the other side of the coffee table. The cover that the thick quilt provided was also much appreciated.

He tried a couple times to shift his hips away, but you would follow him with every movement. Or more accurately, you had no choice but to follow with your leg hooked over his like this. The gentle rub and slide of your lower body against his was starting to become...distracting. 

On his third valiant attempt you let out a soft sweet little sound into his chest, forcing the poor man motionless under you. While another part of him stirred.

That's it.

Determined, Otto grips the back of your bent knee with one hand while the other dips to grab the back of your thigh just under your rear. With a firm pull, he drags you further up his chest, away from his hips.

Your lungs fill with a deep breath as the abrupt movement has you tensing, your hand sliding up over his collarbone and back down to his chest as sleep pulls away from you.

Otto grunts, "Awake now?"

Groggy, your head lifts sluggishly from your living pillow, eyes half-lidded and hair fittingly tousled. 

Your nose crinkles cutely, "...somethin' like that.

Large fingers brush some errant locks of your hair from your face before the man asks, "Still tired? Better?"

Pushing yourself up a bit on your forearms, you take a moment to hide a yawn in your shoulder before returning your attention to Otto, "...Both. It's expected; it usually takes a day...maybe?...for my sleep schedule to go back to normal."

The heel of your palm rubs carefully at your eye, "Bad cold spells aren't very common, but they pop up more around winter. Last longer too."

Otto's brow furrows as Axel interjects, "Still had weeks of cold, but it's different?"

Peering sleepily around the living room for the surly man with the slicked-back hair, you realize his voice drifted in from the kitchen.

"Well..during these weeks the cold spell was inconsistent. Most are. What's the phrase thing...like a roller coaster? Boat on the waves?"

The tallest brother nods his understanding, "Up and down."

"Mhm. Some nights I'm warmer and get more sleep, it's more manageable. Winter spells are more...constant. Less changing..."

Your head droops, "..and a lot more aggravating for it."

Somewhere during the conversation, Axel finishes up in the kitchen and takes a seat in the armchair next to the sofa. Meanwhile Otto's arms have returned to rest lightly on your back. Warm for the first time in weeks, your body refuses to even consider the thought of slipping away from the man. You're staying right where you are. 

The fear prickles in the back of your mind that if you do move away, you'll find the cold waiting to cut right through the warmth and pick up where it left off. Of course you know it doesn't work like that, but the thought stubbornly lingers.

From across the coffee table, lying sprawled on the carpet with napping kittens, a hidden Oscar asks, "You deal with winter how? 

With a jolt you glance around the room, fingers curling in the warm material of Otto's long johns while the man himself gives an amused huff.

"...Uh..It's..pretty much the same with the cold spells...but I wear more layers during the day and..and lots of blankets at night."

Still not able to see the youngest despite your efforts, you have to ask, "Oscar what are you doing down there?"

Silence.

As you lift yourself up more to see past the coffee table, you're greeted with nothing but carpet. 

"...Well that's spook-" 

Before you have a chance to finish your sentence, dastardly digits slip into your hair from behind and wiggle against your nape feathers, courtesy of a certain sneaky bastard. It's been a while since Oscar's last sneak attack, but this one takes the proverbial cake.

With a muffled squeal you duck back down to Otto to escape his mischievous brother, yanking the quilt up to buffer the back of your neck. Oscar smirks and leans back up, steadying the kitten that was slipping off his shoulder. Axel side-eyes him but pays little mind to his antics, his focus is mainly on the conundrum that is his empty mug.

The youngest grunts, "Revenge, du liten retas."

A single word in Oscar's declaration catches your indignant attention, "Revenge? For what you fiend?"

Axel stands to stroll to the kitchen to rectify his coffeeless issue, reminding you on the way. 

"Babysitter."

Otto lightly rubs your back, nodding as if it was a necessary evil.

You grumble, "...Ah. Right. Well I hope everyone's thirst for vengeance has been sated."

With your righteous fury briefly mollified, you pout up at Oscar and his little accomplice. Thing 1 wobbles a bit, clinging to the fabric of his shoulder. 

You allow yourself a moment to admire the man's slim turtleneck sweater paired with his button suspenders. The long-sleeved garment appears to be on the older side, as much of their apparel seems to be, but the deep pewter color doesn't appear to have faded yet. The form fitting material molds quite nicely to the brawn of his arms, showing off muscles earned from a life of hard work. 

Really all three men can boast of possessing a certain physical prowess, of which Otto himself had demonstrated for you last night. You're not sure what had made your heart pound more, being carried by the man or being snuggled up against him to sleep.

With these thoughts rattling around in your head, you become slightly more conscious of the situation; of the feel of his body pressed to yours, of his hands at your back. That's one way to wake yourself up.

The tiny precariously perched feline serves a decent distraction from the attractiveness of these men. You sit up, rear hovering over Otto's lap to give some attention to Thing 1. Steadying yourself with a hand on the top of the sofa, you reach up to the kitten to give its tiny forehead a rub as Oscar leans down a bit to accommodate you.

"I don't think the kittens are quite ready to become official shoulder cats. They're not the most coordinated yet."

You can't help but be a worry wart with such itty bitty animals in your care.

Oscar broods, tilting his head to observe his cargo, "..Too small?"

With your little roller coaster metaphor still on the brain, you reply without thinking, "You must be this tall to ride the Oscar."

You hear a slight clattering in the kitchen as Oscar's eyes widen in surprise and naughty delight. Otto's hands twitch as he swallows thickly. Both brother's eyes trail the slope of your body from different angles.

The larger man's drifting thoughts backstab his good intentions and leave them to die in the gutter; admiring your legs spread either side of his hips, his gaze rests on a certain part of your anatomy that is hovering above a certain part of his anatomy, taunting him with possibilities...

One such possibility being you bare and ready, perched astride him just like this but waiting to be guided down to swallow up every inch-

The snicker from Oscar thankfully breaks the spell Otto is under, the big man scowling as he watches the smaller lean slightly towards your arm. He wouldn't...

Oscar dips his head, lips brushing your skin as his eyes flick to Otto before settling back on you. After finding the two of you cuddled up together and his brother getting handsy? Oh, he absolutely would.

He grins, "Warning, will get wet."

With that, his teeth press gently to the inside of your wrist in a loose open mouthed bite as something wet and warm flicks over your skin.

You pull your arm away from his mouth with a yelp, face resembling a tomato as you stutter, "Oscar! That's-I...W-what, do I need a spray bottle for you?!?"

The man's face is radiating satisfaction and a playfulness that has your stomach somersaulting. You've never sprayed your animals, finding other methods more beneficial for behavior correction, but at least it could have offered you some form of retribution in this unexpected scenario.

You squeak when Otto grasps your waist to remove you from his person and settle you on the cushions and quilt. His feet plop down on the carpet as he stands at his full intimidating height, glaring down at his brother from where he stands behind the sofa.

Eyes locked on his aggressively posturing brother, Oscar slowly removes the kitten from his shoulder and offers him to you to take. Which you do, gaze flicking between the two men as tension builds.

Oscar snaps that tension with ease, growling, "Hon smakar söt, som honung."

And with that mysterious sentence, the youngest brother's instigation is successful. He bee-lines for the kitchen in a sprint, presumably to escape out the back door to the garden as Otto's heavy gait follows close behind.

Taking a moment to calm your racing heart, you juggle your choices of getting dressed or grabbing some food and coffee. Your rumbling stomach and lingering sleepiness makes the decision for you. Forming a makeshift nest with the quilt, you plop Thing 1 down, smiling as he settles in contentedly. You don't even need to look for Thing 2 as the kitten quickly scrambles up the side of the sofa to join his sibling for more naptime.

Tiptoeing to the kitchen, you peep in to find Axel standing at the screen door, sipping his mug of coffee. Watching his brothers' antics no doubt. Not wanting to startle the man, however unlikely given his occupation, you murmur, "Axel? Please tell me there's more coffee."

The man looks over his shoulder, nodding and gesturing to the table where a full steaming mug waits just for you. A hearty plate of some sort of breakfast scramble consisting of eggs, tomatoes, sausage, potatoes, cheese, and herbs sits beside your drink. Touched by his consideration, you shyly express your gratitude and take a seat.

Before you dig in, something itches at your senses and you peer up to see the man still watching you with a small smirk. Your eyes narrow, looking down at the offering and back up as a feeling of familiarity pokes your brain.

Waaaiiit a minute...

"...I'm being bribed aren't I."

The smirk that spreads on his face is all the answer you need. You cover your mouth as giggles struggle to break out. It takes a second or two to compose yourself...at least to some degree.

"I'm guessing you have some questions for me?"

Probably some harder questions, given the new information you've revealed. You stubbornly hold on to your good mood, not wanting to let it spoil.

At the sound of Oscar's hollering, Axel returns his attention back to whatever unfortunate fate has befallen his kin. 

He suggests you finish breakfast first. You don't need him to tell you twice.

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Revenge, du liten retas- Revenge, you little tease. Hon smakar söt, som honung- She tastes sweet, like honey.

[afewmarvelousthoughts]

Falling Ch. 2

Master List: @afewmarvelousthoughtsadmin​

Pairing: Bucky X Reader [and a few more to come]

Summary: For a moment you had something good, something wonderful. But moments pass. Now, left with nothing but the ashes of a life and a love you fought so hard for, you find yourself in a free fall. Who will you be once you hit the bottom? [Sequel to Only For A Moment but can be read independently.]

Warnings: Loss, grief

A/N: Honestly, idk what to say. I 100% made myself cry with this one. So there’s that. Also, I love Steve Rogers. 

Hope y’all don’t hate me too much. 

TAGS ARE OPEN

It feels like falling. You wonder if the very ground beneath you is crumbling as he did. When your knees crash into the solid earth you realize that isn’t the case. 

Still, the feeling persists. 

Plummeting. Untethered. A free fall you can’t stop. 

Until Okoye’s cry cuts through your consciousness like a knife. 

Sucking in a breath you return to yourself. But… Everything feels wrong. 

The pain that had burned through your body and mind has faded to a low hum replaced with the distinct feeling of drowning as you become acutely aware of everything around you.  

It feels like your perception is being pulled in a billion directions. Your power had gotten out of hand before - causing you to be hyper aware of even the salt in your own sweat - but this… It was as though you could feel the composition of creation. 

Shuri told you, after studying your ability, that your brain erected subconscious buffers to regulate your ability, preventing you from going too far. It explained the headaches that plagued you when you used too much of your power and, you supposed, your newly hemorrhaging eyes. Just your body doing all it could to force you to self preserve. 

Clearly, those barriers had been blown to hell. 

You don’t speak - the way sound shakes the air, the particles undulating like ripples on water, was honestly unbearable - but on shaky legs you rise to find Okoye.  

Gently you lay a hand on her trembling shoulder, trying not to feel the rush of blood through her body or the tiny innumerable particles that made her. Just like you felt Bucky before- 

She rounds to look at you and that falling feeling returns, pulling you from those dangerous thoughts. The shocked, horrified woman before you isn’t the Okoye you know, something has broken inside her, a thought you cannot bear. 

“The king,” her voice, barely a whisper, still makes you flinch. Her eyes begin to search behind you, a bit frantic before returning to meet your gaze. “Buck-” You cut her off by shaking your head. 

She doesn’t move to embrace you, doesn’t try to offer comfort, and you couldn’t love her more for it. All you’re both able to do is stare, immobile, for several beats as the weight of what has happened settles over you. 

“Shuri,” she hisses.

Immediately you both bolt, sprinting full speed for the lab. 

You chose to ignore how far behind you Okoye is, or how your feet are hardly touching the ground. Just as you choose to ignore the sounds arising from the battlefield, or the tangible feel of ashes on the air - of ashes in your still clenched right hand. 

There’s only room for one thought. Shuri. 

The madness on the landing deck is the only thing that draws you up short. Running feet stir piles of ash, sending the fine substance up in plumes that make it look as though a low fog has settled in. Making it worse, shouts and cries roll through the air like thunder. You never knew sound could be so heavy. 

You feel Okoye run up behind you, somehow recognizing the space she occupies almost on instinct. It makes you think of the void that remained after-

“Bast,” she says in a voice dripping with horror. A glimmer of the Okoye you know shows as she squares her shoulders marching forward into the chaos. Determined to not leave her side you follow, focusing on planting your feet one before the other lest you be swept away, lost in the feeling of the world around you. 

Stepping into the seating area outside the lab brings back the falling sensation. 

Maybe if you’d tried harder, demanded that he say back, refused to let him fight. Maybe-

A cry so heart-rending and feral blots out any other thought. It’s the kind of sound that could only come from a mother.

“No,” Okoye breathes. 

A mournful King’s Guard stands by a pile of ash. Ramonda’s hands search through it as though she could pull her daughter from the grey substance. Her cries fill the space, thick and haunting. 

“Queen Mother,” Okoye whispers, falling to one knee behind Ramonda. 

“General, where is he?” Ramonda turns, her hands covered in ash, eyes wild and desperate. 

“I’m so sorry,” Okoye’s voice breaks. “I… I couldn’t…” 

You expect Ramonda to scream, rage, anything. Her children were gone, she could scream until the end of time and be justified. Instead, she sits back on her heels, eyes on the ceiling. Some pain is so great there is no way to express it. 

After a moment her gaze falls to you, still standing frozen in the entrance. 

“Sergeant Barnes?” She asks. They’d been close, sharing many afternoons together over coffee or tea talking about everything and nothing. 

You want to honor her with the dignity of an answer. Truly you do. But something churns in your chest, trapping the words. All you can do is shake your head. 

“Bast, save us.” She pulls Okoye to her, holding tight as the tears come. Ramonda extends a hand out to you but... you just can’t. 

In a daze, you turn, walking away from the lab unsure where your feet are taking you until you stand before the door to the ready-room you and Bucky had prepared for the battle in. 

Almost. You almost make it inside. Instead, you walk past a few doors before stepping into another ready-room. With a whoosh, the door slides open and then closes behind you leaving you in blessed silence. 

Why were you here? What good was being in here? What could you possibly… Your right-hand rises, still clenched in a tight fist, holding…

Anything not nailed down begins to tremble in the small room. The mirror above the sink makes almost imperceptible creaking sounds as it splinters. A book hurtles from somewhere unseen and slams into the wall with enough force to break the binding sending pages fluttering. Then it stops. 

A page flutters up and over to you, even though the thought of grabbing one was barely half-formed in your mind. You don’t care what the page says, you just hold it with your left hand while you ever so slowly convince your right to open. 

You can feel your power buzzing around your hand, plucking away every last speck of ash from your skin, not letting one small piece fall away. With the utmost care, you guide the small grey mass to the paper and set it down. 

It strikes you that it’s such a small amount, barely a handful, and yet to you it is the most precious substance in existence. It’s him. It’s all you have-

The room begins to shake once more and you cut off your thoughts. Carefully, you fold the paper around the ashes and tuck the makeshift packet into a pocket sewn into the lining of the vest you wore. 

Unsure of what else to do you make your way back to the chaos of the landing deck. Warriors from the field had begun to return, shellshocked or enraged. 

You see M’Baku towering above a small cluster. When his eyes fall on you he scowls before looking away. 

For a moment you simply allow the chaos to overwhelm you. Each sound rattling in your bones. The feeling of that hunger you’d felt after the stones beginning to ache. You almost hope it will all drive you mad. Madness was prefferable to mourning. 

Someone grabs your arm, pulling your focus to them. Ayo. 

“There were several crashes in the city, we could use your help,” she says, voice oddly calm. You just nod and follow her, grateful for any distraction. 

-

This feeling wasn’t a new one to Steve. He knew far too well what it was to fall so deep into himself that the world around him became an echo. It was the only way he’d made it through the first leg of his life - through the sounds of his parent’s fights, the constant street scrapes, the anger in him that always threatened to crest into something as ugly and violent as his father. 

And he felt it the last time he watched James Barnes die. 

Sam would say it wasn’t healthy, that he needed to process the situation. But Sam wasn’t here, and honestly, over the last 60 or so hours he’d been deeply grateful for the feeling. 

Just like it always did, it protected him, allowed him to get back up. Or in this case allowed him to let Natasha and Rhodey take the jet to go find Clint and Pepper, let him be of some use here in Wakanda while he waited for them to return. It let him do what he needed to - eat, drink, sleep, keep moving - in order to make them all think he was ok, that he had a plan, that he could still be what they needed. 

He’d been grateful. Until he saw you on a stretcher, blood staining the side of your face. 

Maybe if he’d been present, he would have noticed that you hadn’t stopped since the battle. Maybe he would have realized that you hadn’t slept or eaten or-

“I don’t think she’s said a word since he died…” Okoye says in a small voice. Her eyes glued to her clasped hands, leg bouncing in anxiety. 

He wouldn’t know. He wouldn’t know because the couple of times he saw you it seemed you were on a mission, moving with intent, doing what needed to be done just as he was. But he should have known. 

You were his friend. You were his family. Bucky’s gal… How many times could he fail Bucky Barnes?

His chest constricts. Absently he rubs at the ache, trying to think of something useful to say. He opens his mouth to offer some banal platitude but Mosi - the medic seeing to you - saves both him and Okoye from the embarrassment. 

“She’ll be alright I think,” he says with a tired voice. “Dehydrated, so we got her on a drip. She’s still unconscious but that may be for the best right now. Her scans are… different from the last ones Shuri-” He pauses, his throat bobbing as he swallows his emotions. “The last ones Shuri did. It could be due to the head wound but it’s hard to tell.”

“What do you mean different?” Okoye asks. The tone in her voice makes Steve shift uncomfortably. 

“I…” Mosi pauses. “Honestly, I’m trying to quantify it. None of us were actively involved in the assessment of the Barnes��� enhancements, we only assisted when requested.” He sighs, his exhaustion evident. “There doesn’t seem to be damage per se but the readings are erratic. There are parts of her brain that seem to be activating her power that never showed on past scans and…” 

“And what?” Steve asks, his anxiety mounting. 

“None of Shuri’s research shows Y/N’s power remaining active in a truly unconscious state. They tried it under sedation and it was completely dormant.” He sits heavily in one of the chairs. “Right now, there is a constant flow of energy, like someone just left the tap on.” 

“Dammit, Y/N,” Okoye grumbles. Steve looks at her confused. “She pushed herself too far. You saw her eyes during the battle right?! They were bleeding.”

“Ah,” Mosi sighs, “that explains the ruptured blood vessels. If she did over use her power it’s possible that she just needs rest - like any overworked muscle.” 

Steve nods, rubbing his temples as he leans back in the chair.  

“We’ll closely monitor-” A distinct tremble pulses through the building cutting him off. No sooner does it pass than another, stronger, shake comes. 

“Earthquake?” Steve asks, getting to his feet. 

Okoye shakes her head as she stands, “No, the building’s frame is vibranium it shouldn’t-” The next tremor almost knocks them all down and sends the monitors in your room screaming in alarm. 

Whatever Steve expected to see when he rushed into your room it was not what awaited him. 

The door slides open as the thick glass shatters outward with a deafening crash. Just outside, your body floats, head lolling to the side, pieces of glass continuing to shatter about you sparkling like glitter in the twilight. He calls out to you but is helpless as you float out into the growing darkness. 

Okoye stands just behind him, eyes wide with fear and worry. 

“Keep an eye on her as long as you can and update me on where she may be heading.” Okoye nods in acknowledgment as he sprints from the room. 

Steve’s chest burns like his lungs just can’t bring in enough oxygen. Suddenly he’s a kid again, gasping for air, praying that this won’t be the time his body chooses to quit on him. 

Doubling over, once he reaches the landing deck, he rests his hands on his knees, trying to count his breaths, trying to center himself. There wasn’t time for him to fall apart. Not now. 

“Steve?” Thor asks from his perch on one of the hovercrafts. The raccoon - Rocket - sits beside him. 

“What’s wrong?” Thor’s hand rests heavily on his shoulder. It’s too much like a gesture Bucky would often make. He pulls away. 

“Y/N,” he pants, still trying to force his lungs to work. “Something’s wrong, she-” Okoye’s voice in his ear interrupts him.

“Steve, I… I think she’s heading to where… it happened.” 

There was no need to explain what it was. 

“Copy,” he answers.

“I’m on my way down,” Okoye says. 

“No, I can-”

“I’m coming.” Her tone brooches no argument. 

“We’ll come too,” Thor says, getting on the craft. Rocket just shrugs. 

When the four of them arrive at the edge of the woods it’s eerily quiet. 

“There’s no breeze,” Thor comments quietly. He was right. A slight wind had been blowing on the landing deck but here, everything was unnaturally still. “Her power…” 

Steve doesn’t like the awe in Thor’s voice. You were gifted, of that there was no question. But you’d been clear enough that there were limits to what you could do and how long you could use your abilities. 

With a pang, he remembers Wanda teasing you about it over dinner more than once. 

“There,” Okoye whispers. 

He sees you and feels a pain shoot through his heart. 

You’re standing just as you had days ago, in the same place, but your hands - palms out - are pressed to nothing but empty air. Around your feet dust swirls in a slow circle, the only movement to be seen. From here, he can’t see your face, but your head is cocked to the side, almost as if you’re listening to something in the distance. 

Part of him wants to run. Just leave you to your sorrow because he can’t bear it. Because this, this brings to gut-wrenching clarity a thought he’d been avoiding for days. 

You had tried to use your power to save Bucky. 

He can’t begin to comprehend what that must have been like. What must you have felt as your husband died…

The snapping of a stick beneath Thor’s foot causes your head to twitch in their direction though you don’t move otherwise. 

“Y/N?” Okoye calls softy. “Sister, why don’t you come with us?” She extends her hand, “I’ll take you home.”

Steve wishes it was just his imagination making him feel the tremor move from your body into the ground. But the shaking of the leaves above them in response to Okoye’s last word tells him it was real. 

He looks to the others, seeing tense faces stare back at him. Rocket’s ears twitch wildly. 

“We need to back up. Now.” Immediately he begins to put more space between himself and you. Thor nods, following his lead. Okoye looks from them to you and back, unsure. 

No. He’d failed you, failed Bucky, and Sam, and Wanda, and everyone. He couldn’t turn away from you now. 

Slowly, he makes his way to your side, his body tingling with an entirely foreign sensation. 

“Y/N,” his voice almost a whisper. “Come on, let’s-” As soon as his hand touches your shoulder he’s flung back. Thor catches him, pulling him away from you and settling him on the ground. 

Gobsmacked Steve stares, hardly able to breathe or think, only capable of gaping slack-jawed as the dust at your feet begins to spin faster and faster. 

Slowly, the air around you begins to swirl with debris from the ground. A foot, two three, the radius grows until there’s a five-foot minimum of dirt, dust, stones, and other forest refuse filling the space, up and up past the tops of the trees.  

Even so, it remains strangely quiet save for the rustling of the foliage. It could almost be peaceful. Until your scream shatters the illusion. 

He’d heard this scream before. It was the scream that rang through bombed cities in the war, through New York when the Citauri attacked, and Sokovia as buildings crumbled burying families inside. It was the sound of loss so profound that it reduced someone to their basest animal nature. 

It seems to pull every ounce of pain he’d tried to run from to the surface. Desperately, he tries to tamp it down, gritting his teeth as tears slide unbidden from his eyes. 

Thor hits his knees beside Steve, coving his face. Rocket looks away. Okoye stares, tears silently carving paths down her cheeks. 

What could any of them do? What comfort could they give?

Your cries shake the ground, cause the trees to groan, small thunder-like rumbles rise and fall as though you were ripping the particles in the air apart like lightning. Maybe you were… 

All he knew was that at this moment your pain was the pain of a universe in mourning. You expressed what they all felt but did not have the capability to release. 

A strange creaking groan slowly gets louder as the earth shakes. 

Tear it all down, Y/N, he thinks. I’m too tired to save it anymore.

His sight is blurred with tears he can’t seem to let fall so he thinks he imagines the woman stepping past them, moving serenely toward your maelstrom, her white hair tumbling down her back. 

“Queen Mother, don’t!” Okoye cries, shaken from her stupor. She grabs the woman's arm. Ramonda turns to her, a sad smile on her face.

“Let go of me, General.” Okoye doesn’t move. “Oko,” Ramonda coos, cupping her face with a hand. “It will be alright. She’s just hurting.” 

Okoye takes a halting step away from the Queen before collapsing back to the ground. 

Steve holds his breath as he watches Ramonda enter the cyclone of debris surrounding you - so sure that a rogue branch or rock would strike her down. You’d never forgive yourself if-

He shoots to his feet, ready to rush after Ramonda, pull her to safety for all your sakes but he freezes. 

Incredibly she’s made it to you unscathed. Through the haze of dust, he sees her arms wrap around you, your body still shaking with screams, and pull your back against her chest. 

Relief only has the briefest moment to touch him before, with one final groan, the ground around you gives way. 

-

Falling. 

You’re falling and you don’t want it to stop. 

The further you fall the better, the further you fall the more likely this pain will end when you reach the bottom. And that’s all you want right now. Just for the pain to end and to take this insidious hunger along with it.  

“I know child, I know it hurts,” a voice, thick with tears whispers in your ear. “I know.”

The sound cuts your scream off at the root leaving you gasping and bringing the ground up to meet you. 

It was not far enough. 

Though both of you are sent to your knees the arms around your chest do not release you. They only hold tighter. 

“Let it out.” The voice whispers. Only then do you realize your scream had morphed into a guttural sob. 

It hurt.

The salt in your tears stings your eyes so badly it feels like someone is grinding sand in them and your throat is so raw you’d think you swallowed fire. Your body feels like it was hit by a bus, muscles throbbing, a bone-deep ache permeating your whole being, and that strange hunger grinding somewhere deep within you. But you can’t stop. The tears just keep flowing. 

Gone. He was gone. And you failed to save him.

This was worse than the loss of your chosen family. Then, you were trapped, held prisoner, unable to get to them fast enough. Now…

You had him in your hands. You had power beyond comprehension at your literal fingertips. And still, it wasn’t enough. Still, you felt him leave you bit by bit. 

“Bucky!” His name trips over your lips, a desperate plea, a prayer. Again and again, you call for him knowing he will not answer you. 

Eventually, you run out of tears and slump into the arms holding you, your head on their shoulder. Forcing your eyes open you look up at Ramonda’s tearstained but serene face. A mother’s face. 

Gently she brushes the hair from your damp cheeks before pressing her lips to your forehead. If you had the ability to shed one more tear you would have. Your own mother had feared you, maybe even hated you, so this kind of care was foreign but god, you never wanted her to let go. 

Your eyes slide shut as she starts humming a low song. It isn’t something you know but the cadence of the notes sound like a lullaby. 

The presence of others presses into your awareness. She doesn’t react so you feel no need to either. 

One of her arms releases you to draw another person near. A person you know. Okoye. 

Opening your eyes the best you can you reach for her, the warm feeling of her palm in yours feels good. 

A small hand rests on your thigh. The feeling is an odd one and you look down. Rocket, the one who tried to buy Bucky’s arm, gazes at you with wide shimmering eyes - pain clear on his features. With your free hand, you cover his and he leans into you.  

With eyes half-mast you barely see Thor draw close. Ramonda reaches her other hand to him and he takes it. A soft cry comes from him. 

“I know,” Ramonda pauses her song to whisper. “Captain?” 

Steve is before you all, standing, looking away. When Ramonda calls to him he closes the small distance and kneels before you. His eyes look red from tears but he seems so solid otherwise. 

With a knuckle, he brushes your cheek, it comes away pink. Your eyes must have bled again… You must have-

It’s then that you look just over Steve’s shoulder and realize… You are all huddled in a fucking crater. 

Falling. You had felt like you were falling. You had thought about the ground crumbling when Bucky had and… You pull away from the others, pushing past Steve to the other side of the crater. 

You press your hands to the wall, about six feet high, and they come away black with fresh earth. Slowly you turn, taking in the size of the thing.

When your gaze settles on the group, most still leaning on one another, they look concerned.  

“Y/N?” Steve’s tone is cautious. 

“I did this,” you breathe in realization, voice hoarse. 

“It’s ok, Y/N. No one was-”

“No!” You snap. “It isn’t ok. I can’t do this! I shouldn’t… I can’t-” Breathe. You cannot breathe. 

Grasping your chest you heave, feeling like your heart may burst. Panic overwhelms you. 

“You just need to rest,” Okoye’s voice this time. “You haven’t stopped since-”

“No,” you rasp, shaking your head frantically. You begin to pace. “No. You don’t understand.” You lean against the wall and sink down, hiding your face in your knees as you begin to shake all over. 

Your mind buzzes trying to sort all the things it’s sensing, like trying to pick out each individual voice in a crowd of thousands. Beneath the chaos is the low rumble you remembered from before, that hunger. Your fingers run through your hair, grasping your skull. 

“Something is wrong. Wrong with me. I can’t… I can’t…”

“What can’t you do, Y/N?” Steve asks. 

“Control it!” You shout looking up at them. The soft earth beneath you shifts and you gasp covering your mouth, scared you’ll just start screaming again. The tension hangs heavy in the air. 

“It’s alright,” Ramonda says moving closer. “We are all struggling to control this grief. It must make it harder to harness these gifts.” Her soft smile makes you wish she was right, makes you want to let her mother you and tell you it will all be fine and believe her. 

But she’s wrong. You shake your head. 

“That isn’t it. I-” Your voice cracks. “Something is wrong.” You’re too tired to think but you have to say it because you know it must be the cause. 

“I touched them,” you manage. 

“Touched what?” Okoye asks. 

“The stones,” Thor whispers. “You touched the stones with your power.” You meet his mismatched eyes and nod. 

“Christ,” Steve hisses, pacing away. 

“You’re lucky you’re even alive,” Rocket says. “That’s cosmic, concentrated energy you tapped into, you should be-”

You can’t help the bitter laugh that pours from you. 

“Lucky,” you growl. “Lucky. That’s me, so fucking lucky!” You push yourself quickly to your feet. 

The world tips sideways and everything goes dark. 

When your eyes flutter open again you’re on a hovercraft, Steve’s arms cradling you tight to his chest. 

Shame thrums through you. 

“I’m ok, Steve,” you say. “You can put me down.”

“It’s fine,” his tone is hard edged, cold. 

“Really, I-” His arms flex, holding you tighter. When you get to the landing deck you pry yourself from his grasp with your power, landing softly on your feet. He tosses a look that isn’t quite a glare at you but says nothing. 

Instead of going back to the lab, you all follow Ramonda as if on instinct, to the royal residences. A line of wayward children. 

Being in Ramonda’s welcoming home threatens to send a tremor through you - and everything around you. Too many afternoons you’d come here after training to see Bucky sitting on the balcony, lit golden in the sunset, drinking tea… The thought of his smile makes some deep place in you ache. 

Thor collapses into one of the couches, looking like a husk of a man. You had seen him earlier that day but perhaps he too was reaching his breaking point. It looks like Rocket will join him for a beat but he heads to the balcony, his eyes fixed on the sky as though looking for something. 

You stand, unsure what to do. 

“Sit,” Ramonda insists. You do as she says, avoiding the large chair you usually shared with Bucky, opting for a pile of floor pillows instead. 

When Steve, Okoye, and Ramonda return with food and tea you realize, guiltily, that you hadn’t noticed their absence or even really registered time passing. No one moves for the food, lost in their own misery. 

“Eat, all of you,” Ramonda says in a maternal voice. 

She needs to care for someone, you think. 

Not wanting to disappoint her you force yourself to take some tea and nibble on a piece of flatbread. It all tastes like dust. 

At some point you lost the thread of the conversation. Mainly Okoye filling the silence with plans, Ramonda saying something about the elder council meeting. 

You kept playing the events of earlier through your head - hating that you had broken like that, hating how you likely terrified them all - when Okoye coughed. It wasn’t subtle. Neither was the pointed glance she and Steve exchanged. 

You bristle. 

“Come on,” Steve stands, extending a hand to you. Choosing to not take it you rise fluidly to your feet, your power, rather than your tired muscles propelling you. 

Ramonda cups your face in her hands before kissing both your cheeks. She doesn’t say a word, just presses her forehead to yours before releasing you. 

With no explanation from him, he leads you to the apartment he uses when he visits. You manage to hold your tongue until the door closes behind you both. 

“Were you assigned to babysit?” At any other time, the venom in his glare would have stung. “I can-”

“Don’t,” his voice is low. He turns and rummages through a drawer, pulling out a plain black tee and boxers. “Here. Go shower.” 

There’s something barely contained in his actions, a tension begging to be released. You feel guilty for your quip but don’t think an apology will be welcome. Plus, you can feel every grain of sand, every bit of dirt, the salt from your sweat all clinging to your skin, it’s unbearable.

The shower doesn’t help. All you can think of as the hot water hits your skin is that you should have showered with Bucky this morning… Two mornings ago? Three? Honestly, you didn’t know how much time had passed. 

You finish quickly. Looking in the mirror you notice the swath of scalp showing where they shaved your head around a wound. 

Vaguely you remember helping to clear the alien debris that had been left behind. Someone slipped and got pinned, you’d easily freed them but lost focus and your grip on the metal. 

You press a finger to the skin, soft and beginning to bruise but sealed with Wakandan perfection. Staring listlessly at your reflection you press harder, the pain making you feel present, reminding you this was real. 

This woman in the mirror… you don’t know her. Your fingers rub around the wound and slip into your hair pulling it tight. If you pulled hard enough… On the open shelves by the sink, you spot the clippers. That would be faster. 

The buzzing noise is almost unbearable as is the sensation of all the little whirring parts. But you push past it. 

Bit by bit your hair - grown long and thick over these past few years of love, of hope, of rebirth and rebuilding yourself from what Hydra made of you - falls to the floor. 

When you finish you look back in the mirror. You know this ghost. 

It isn’t a comfort. 

Your chest seizes. Gripping the edge of the counter you fold forward. One question screams in your head over and over. 

Shaking your head you try to clear it, feeling strands of hair slip from your shoulders. Frantically you reach for the t-shirt and pull it on before flinging the door open. 

Steve sits on the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees, head hanging. 

“Steve?” You ask in a tremulous voice. He looks up, his face a map of pain. “What do we do? What… What do we do…” Without Bucky. That was what you really meant. Without Bucky what were you supposed to do?

“I-” His voice cracks. “I don’t know.” He shakes his head, “God help me but… I don’t… I don’t know.” When the sob breaks free he almost looks startled by it, his hand flying to his mouth, eyes wide with fear. 

He keeps shaking his head, “Y/N, I don’t know… I’m sorry I-” That’s it. That’s all he has left. 

Here, away from the world, Steve Rogers breaks. 

For a beat you’re unsure what to do. You’d never seen him cry, never seen him fully lose his grip on that invisible shield he never put down. 

There is so little you can give him. Still, you go to him, pulling him to you, holding tight. It isn’t much but this is all you have.

His face presses against your abdomen, his tears soaking through the shirt fabric. Even though you thought you’d cried all you could, you feel the tears come, rolling quietly down your cheeks and landing in his golden hair as you run your fingers through it.

When your tired legs will no longer hold you up you crawl into the bed. Neither of you speak but you hold on for dear life until oblivion offers relief from this consuming grief.

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[silluuuu]

Angel Eyes, They Glow Unbearably Bright

Hi! It’s been forever since I wrote anything, and I needed to dust off the old writing cobwebs, so I wrote thing today! It’s a sappy, sweet little drabble-y thing based on this lovely piece of art that I saw by @ochako999​. Thanks to @makapedia and @guacamoletrash for being betababes eternal. Hope u enjoy!

Rating: K+ Summary: On a late summer's eve, surrounded by soft jazz, a sleeping Maka makes a confession.

Read it on FFN or AO3 or below the cut!:

It’s nearly dusk when they arrive home, the seven o’clock sun making halos out of their hair as they cross in front of the window in the entryway. Fully entering the house is a slow process, one that is stretched like the muscles in their tired legs. As the door shuts, backpacks descend from their aching arms, sliding to the floor in the silence of the house.

“...Movie?” Soul asks her. Two syllables is the most he can manage. If he has to form a complete sentence right now, he will be petitioning the Academy for overtime pay.

“Mm,” Maka murmurs back at him, noncommittal. She is no better, he thinks, eyes half-lidded as she pushes herself off the wall with a wince. “PJs,” she offers instead as she shuffles to the bedroom, using the couch as a crutch to get herself there.

Her bedroom door glides shut but doesn’t quite close, hovering open so that Soul can still feel her tiredness echoing through the crack. He feels like he’s prying, listening to her feelings when she’s in the next room. Five years into their partnership, he’s not sure either of them have gotten used to their souls being so in tune, especially in moments like this when things are… quiet.

To distract himself, he reaches backwards, his hand sliding across the wall towards the air conditioning unit. The sun may be setting later than usual, but the Nevada heat is as strong as ever, so he leans in to the on switch, letting the click and subsequent whir of machinery pull his thoughts away from Maka and instead relaxing into the sensation of cold air shooting against his back.

They’ve come to an agreement when it comes to the temperature in the apartment. This time of year, she runs hot and he runs cold. It’s because she clings to summer when he’s all too ready for fall, though he knows that real cold weather - by Death City standards, anyway - is still a couple of months away. Even so, with the air conditioning blasting, he can shrug into a pair of sweats and a baseball tee to make himself feel like it’s early September, and she can stay in her summer shorts.

It’s an accord that has taken several years to perfect, and now that they have, they can find other things to argue about.

There’s a knock at his door - slow but apathetic, which indicates that Tired and Hungry Maka is beginning to make an appearance. “... Chinese?” she asks through the wood.

“... Thai?” he counters, and her knuckles slide down the door in protest. He tries not to chuckle, but she hears it anyway.

“...Ginger beef... but with Thai spring rolls?” She’s haggling with him, emboldened by his laughter. That, or she’s suddenly getting hungry for Thai food. Because he is most definitely hungry for Chinese now.

“Ginger Beef it is,” he says with a sigh, because her longing for Chinese food is soul-deep, and it pings through his stomach. “...But also,” he adds, because he has some dignity: “Yeah. Spring rolls.”

As they wait for the food, they sink onto the couch, too tired to care about the mud stains on their shins. He wonders if they’ll both fall asleep before the food comes.

Set an alarm, Maka confirms in his mind, which gives him the permission he needs to let his eyes drift closed, and about five seconds pass before Maka’s cheek drifts against his shoulder.

There’s nothing shocking about that; physical touch has become natural for them. It’s on the same level of subconscious as Maka making her morning to-do list, or Soul reaching for the milk when he opens the fridge at 3 a.m. It’s part of who they are, as partners, and it’s more of a comfort than a sense of tension these days.

They snooze for awhile before Maka murmurs, “too soft,” and slides off the couch to sit on the floor - another common occurrence. Maka’s bed is the firmest one in existence, and the couch is always too soft for--

An impatient hand tugs at his pant leg. Thinking too loud, she grumbles into his mind. C’mere.

Again, nothing strange here. He has long been dual-wielded as Maka’s weapon and personal pillow. So he slides off the couch as well, her head re-positioning itself onto his shoulder as they drift.

When the food finally comes, they eat it in silence, aside from one slightly resentful confirmation on Soul’s part that the ginger beef is actually pretty good. Maka smiles at this, and it’s a little smug, but a little soft, too.

After dinner, they take turns getting cleaned up, as they always do. It’s a normal after dinner routine… until it isn’t.

“Hey,” she warns him as they slide back into their spot on the floor, her back propped against a pillow. “Don’t make fun of me for what I’m about to ask.”

“A tall order,” he warns her right back, stifling an on-purpose yawn. The glare she sends him calms his sass, if only marginally, because he groans and relents. “Okaaay, all right. What is it?”

She pauses, but not for long enough to talk herself out of it. “Could you… put on some jazz?” she asks, looking to the right to avoid his gaze.

He cocks his head to the side, trying his very best not to smile. “You want to listen to--”

“Yes, I do,” she says, puffing herself up as she pokes her finger into his chest. “I thought it would be nice, okay? Cause we’re tired.”

There’s something else, too, another explanation hovering behind their link, but she’s got her walls up now, so it’s too murky for him to access it. When he lets it go, she can feel it, and they both visibly relax, Maka’s shoulders sagging as Soul directs his gaze to the record player.

“What… kind?” he asks, though the triumphant return of Maka’s glare answers his question before he can fully get the words out, and he stands to better escape her wrath. “Yeah, alright. How about… something to fall asleep to?” He wrings his hands a little, hoping she’ll help him out a little.

Maka’s hand is already against the couch, eyes closed due to tiredness and frustration. “Yeah,” she agrees. “Something that feels like... ‘it’s good to be home,’ or something.”

He picks through his selection, thumbing each record as he evaluates it and pushes it aside. Ultimately he settles on Ella Fitzgerald’s Greatest Hits, and he slides back down the front of the couch and onto the floor as Ella’s voice starts to croon around them.

“Oh,” Maka murmurs when they get to the first chorus. “I know this one.” Though he can’t see it, he can feel the smile that spreads across her face.

“Yeah,” he says, leaning his head sideways to press against hers. “It’s like, a lullaby or whatever.”

“Mmm.” She’s pressing her cheek into his shoulder again as she drifts towards sleep. “S’nice.”

It is nice, he decides. Not just the music, but all of it; sitting with her, being tired as hell -- but together.

They sit like this for a while, on the verge of sleep, Maka’s head on his shoulder and her fingers twisting in the fabric of his pants at his knee as she dozes.

Just as he’s about to fall asleep as well, Maka stirs, lets out a contented sigh and, with all of her walls down, all vulnerability exposed, something echoes through her mind that he happens to hear:

I love--

Soul’s eyes lift open immediately, and he tamps down on the warmth spreading across his face, not daring to believe what he’s just heard. Before he can get carried away, he begins a full on negotiation with himself. You don’t know that she said that, and she didn’t even say your name, don’t get carried--

So she says it again, out loud, as if she’s afraid that he’ll miss it.

“I... love--”

And this time, she doesn’t have to say the rest out loud, because he can feel it from within. It’s not an articulation; it’s more like a feeling that she sends into his mind, ricocheting around in his chest, demanding his attention. She doesn’t have to say his name for him to hear it.

He can’t believe that they’re sitting on the floor, and that she says this like it’s nothing. Like it’s natural, after five years of buildup and sideways glances and fingers feather-light on each others’ palms.

Well, now he’s awake. He should wake her too, probably, but the feeling in his chest is warm and he thinks it might be okay if they sat like this forever.

After all, it’s nothing extraordinary, is it? He’s always known, somewhere, deep down. But he can’t tell her anything now, not when she doesn’t know the whole story yet.

“All right,” he says, carefully reconstructing his walls as she stirs. “Let’s go to bed.”

She protests a little, but he pulls her to her feet, his fingers finding the spaces between hers for a moment before she pulls through, wrapping her palms around his waist.

“‘Kay,” she says sleepily, cheek pressed against his ear. “‘Night, Soul.”

He wraps his arms around her as well, squeezing just a little. “Night, Maka.”

When Soul falls asleep that night, there’s a smooth jazz song playing in his soul, along with a simple statement that he’s been telling her for years without words, one that makes Maka’s eyes go wide in the night, two rooms away:

Hey. Love you too.

When Soul drifts off, he smiles into his pillow, and it’s a little smug. But it’s a little soft, too.

[sky-scribbles]

Got hit by feelings, wanted to write some sappy Flystep with Herald being lovestruck. ~1500 words, Herald POV, Herald x m!Sidestep. Retribution spoilers.

‘Bring a reader and you can browse my genetic code. Then you’d really know everything about me.’

‘Really? Does it say that the scar on your hand always itches when you're stressed?’

The first time you meet him, your eyes keep straying to his hands.

You’re not sure why. You were so eager to see his face, to meet the man behind the mask, but now he’s right here and you feel like you still haven’t seen him. Like you’re looking at another disguise, layered over the real person. He’s all smiles, grinning at Steel as if they never went seven years without speaking, looking Argent dead in the eyes without a trace of fear. 

His hands, though… his hands tell a different story.

There’s something so very real about them. Something vulnerable. His face is relaxed, handsome, unmarked, but his fingers are covered with pale streaks from old wounds and burns. Proof that he’s lived and fought and been hurt. 

Whoever the real Miles Mercer is, he shines through his hands. In how they tense when Steel speaks to him and relax when Ortega defends him. How they twitch as if they’re always only a second away from bunching into fists, ready to be raised in his defence. How his fingers scratch – subconsciously, you think – at an old scar below his knuckles when Argent calls him nobody.

You think she hurt him.

The thought is uncomfortable, so you don’t look at either of their faces. Just at his hands. His fingers may be scarred, but they’re long and graceful, more like those of a musician than those of a fighter.

(You wonder, for a tiny, confusing second, what they would feel like to hold.)

 ‘That you like petting dogs when their owners aren’t watching?’

It’s the first time you see him smile for real. Even when he smiles at Ortega, you get the feeling that he’s holding back.

He’s not holding anything back now. You caught sight of him as you flew over one of the parks on your way home, and you know you shouldn’t have hovered to watch him. But you hesitated, long enough see the smile on his face, and as soon as you saw it you couldn’t look away. The dog’s mouth is open in delight, its tail wagging furiously as Miles tugs its ears and rubs its stomach – 

And Miles is laughing. There’s a warm hum in your chest as you listen.

You wish you were close enough to see properly. You’d love to find out whether his face looks different now he’s laughing so freely. Whether his eyes crinkle at the edges. Whether his hands relax.

But you’re sure it’s wrong for you to have watched even for the few seconds you have, so you rise higher and keep heading home. It’s enough, for now, to know that not all his smiles are forced.

 ‘That you sleep too little and eat like crap?

It’s hard to suppress a smile as you cross the room, keeping your footsteps as light as you can. When you were a kid, watching wide-eyed as Sidestep took on the world, you never anticipated that one day he’d be asleep in a chair and hugging a cushion while you tiptoed around him.

You know it’s a cliché, but he really does look younger like this. Perhaps because Ortega’s told you about how he used to fall asleep in headquarters all the time – on the floor, on desks, anywhere, and seeing this is like seeing an echo of his old self. There’s a packet of gummy bears in his hand, open but untouched, as if he was about to reach into it in the hope that the sugar would keep him awake.

Despite your best attempts to keep quiet, he stirs as you set the coffee machine going. Rubs at his eyes with those damaged, elegant hands. ‘What’s the time?’

You pour out the coffee you were brewing for yourself and the other Rangers, then grab a spare mug for him. ‘Uh. About four, I think.’

He lets out a quiet groan. ‘Fucking amazing.’

‘Did you need to be somewhere?’ The words I could fly you there form on your lips, but you falter. Because you’re not prepared for how much you love the idea of helping him and being so close to him, and it startles you into silence.

‘Nah. I just… shouldn’t let myself crash like that.’ He digs a hand into the packet of sweets. ‘I’ve got shit to do.’

You’re not convinced that this is true. The look on his face when he woke up was one of relief. Maybe his constant need for sugar and energy isn’t just because of a sweet tooth. Maybe he forces himself to stay awake because the alternative terrifies him.

You swallow, and try to focus on filling his mug. You shouldn’t want to turn around and pull him into your arms, cradle his head against your chest. Hold him. Bring him somewhere safe and keep him close so that whatever haunts his sleep can’t touch him.

But you do. Oh, god, you do.

 ‘That you probably lost a front tooth in the past because your tongue keeps searching for a gap that's not there anymore?’

You really, really need to stop looking at his lips.

You’re noticing too much. The little details. The lines and scars. The way his tongue presses against his front tooth whenever he’s listening to someone speak. And you’ve memorized the way he smiles, because every time he directs it at you, it’s everything you can do to keep your mind quiet, your feet on the floor.

You need to stop letting your eyes wander onto his mouth. Letting your mind wander onto his mouth.

But you want his lips on yours and you want them on your skin and you’re not sure how much longer you can keep that a secret.

 ‘Does it say that you have friends? People that care about you?’

Ortega drags you into the kitchen by your arm, a grin stamped on her face. ‘You want to see this.’

This, as it turns out, is Miles, sitting on a counter and meeting Ortega with a glare that’s softened by the smug pleasure in his eyes. ‘I can’t believe you’re forcing me to have an audience.’

You glance around. Chen’s sitting a little way away, with the slight smile of someone who knows what’s going on, and Argent’s seated in the corner with the frown of someone who doesn’t. You’re as confused as she is, so you ask, ‘An audience for what?’ and Miles responds by grabbing a backpack from the floor, digging around in it, and pulling something out. Large, made from reddish-brown wood.

It takes you a moment to recognise it, because it’s not an item you’d normally associate with the Rangers’ headquarters, or with Miles. It’s a violin.

‘This idiot – �� He jerks his head at Ortega – ‘talked me into buying it years ago. And apparently she held onto it while I was dead, because she’s a sap, and now she’s gone and nagged me into picking it up again. Fair warning: I was shit at it then, and now I’m seven years out of practice.’

Ortega just smirks. ‘You obviously wanted to learn, and you were good at it. And I’ve missed hearing it. So get on with it and show off.’

You wonder for a moment if he’s going to protest, but he grins from ear to ear instead. And he raises the bow and plays.

He’s not perfect, but he’s definitely not bad either. Not that you’re really listening to the music. Your attention’s on him, on how his face settles into a calmness it didn’t have even when you found him asleep in that chair, or when you spotted him petting that dog. On how there’s a proud delight in his eyes when he looks up to see everyone watching, a look that does all kinds of things to your stomach.

He’s loving this, you can tell. Having everyone gathered around him. Appreciating him. He loves the way Ortega watches with pride and fondness, the way Steel closes his eyes and relaxes, the way Argent leans forward to listen.

Maybe he can tell that you’re hanging on every note. Maybe he loves that, too. Maybe he loves the way your eyes lock, transfixed, on his hands. A musician’s fingers, you thought, all that time ago – and you were right.

And maybe you don’t know his past. You don’t know why his fingers scrape against his old scars sometimes, or why he needs to escape from his own mind into the playful thoughts of dogs, or why he doses himself with sugar to keep him awake, or how he lost that tooth, or why he wanted to learn the violin.

But you think you have enough. You’ve gathered so many little snippets and you’re piecing them together, one at a time, enough to build an understanding that goes more than skin-deep. Enough to know one thing with painful, beautiful clarity.

‘Does it say that I’m in love with you?’

[fandom-collective-writers]

Bullet Holes at a Dance

Requested by: Anon

Written by: @lonelyshepherds 

Prompt: “don’t cry” & Seth 

Voices and soft music resounded along the room in the large ballroom as she turned her head every which way looking for the familiar silver hair that she loved. With a nervous gulp she reached into her hand purse and pulled out the small card asking her to come from Seth. He was so excited. She couldn’t understand why he wasn’t here. He was a good man so she knew there was no possible chance of him standing her up...right? As nervousness creeped up further into her subconscious a warm chest collided with her, almost knocking her down. Peering up she saw light hair and a small glimmer of hope rose in her chest. It instantly faded away when she realized it was only Jonah. He stared down at her in shock and surprise. Lancelot was standing beside him with a cocked eyebrow.  

“Alice?” Jonah blinked at her in confusion. “What are you doing here? This party is for members of the black and red army only.” His words were rude but Alice knew it was an honest question and wasn't coming from a mean place. Alice looked at her feet. “I know, but I was invited here.” Now it was Jonah’s turn to raise a brow. He leaned a little closer. “Oh? Who? Did he not show up…?” The white haired queen looked like he was readying himself to fight someone as his body tensed slightly. If Alice wasn’t so worried she might have laughed. Instead she gave a weak smile. “Kinda. I don’t think he would stand me up though. Seth never seemed like that type of person.”

The moment she said his name both of the men in front of her stiffened and went pale. Their eyes darted to look at each other, both clearly shaken with grim expressions. Alice furrowed her brows. “...What…? Why are you looking like that…?” Her voice came out quiet and when the two didn’t respond she almost spoke up again but Lancelot put a firm reassuring hand on her shoulder and whispered in her ear. “Do you know where the medical room is in this building?” Alice nodded. She had been to the neutral zone many times with Blanc. He had shown her most of the political buildings in the area and gave a few tours in case I needed them. Lancelot’s voice seemed hushed and urgent. “Kyle is there. Go there quietly and tell no one.” he backed away and gave her a curt nod before turning and walking to the middle of the room. Jonah looked back and forth between the two with concerned and unsure eyes before giving a hopeful nod in her direction and following his leader. Something was wrong and the way those two were acting made this feeling intensify tenfold as she began walking towards the clinic.

The tap of Alice’s heels on the tile made her anxiety rise as she walked quickly to the medical area. Being in a dimly lit hall in a building she wasn’t the most familiar with by herself wasn’t the most comforting thing but the way Jonah and Lancelot had acted sparked an intense worry in the pit of her stomach. Something was wrong with Seth. She could tell that much. A bit of relief settled on her when she saw the door to the medical room. With her resolve steeled she took in a sharp breath and knocked on the door as softly as she could. A few steps came from inside the room before the door cracked open with kyle peeking out from behind it. His eyes darted around the hallway before resting on Alice and softening as he opened the door with one of his signature carefree smiles. “Alice. Haven’t seen you in forever.” Alice almost missed the blood stains on his dress shirt as her eyes widened. “Where is Seth…?” With eyes shining with determination she stared up at Kyle who dropped his act. He looked around the hallway before pulling her in the room.

Alice couldn’t breathe because of the scene in front of her. Seth was lying on one of the beds in the room, his white dress shirt in a crumpled mess on the floor with multiple bloody stains on it. Bandages were wrapped around his torso and she could see blood stains on those as well. A tray filled with used towels stained red and medical instruments all fresh from a procedure. Alice placed one of her hands over her mouth as a hand pressed against the middle of her back. Kyle was silent beside her as she recovered, doing whatever he could do help calm her. He knew this might take her a while.

After a few moments she caught her breath and looked at Kyle again after ripping her eyes away from the nightmarish scene in front of her. “Kyle...What the fuck happened??” Kyle paused to take a deep breath and grabbed one of the chairs on the opposite wall. He sat in one and offered her another. She sat and waited for his answer. His eyes drifted to Seth’s sleeping form with a worried expression as he began to talk. “When the other members of the army and I were walking up the steps of this place, Seth stumbled out of the woods mumbling...something. He could barely walk and passed out. Started bleeding all over the place. Zero helped me bring him here without much notice from others so we are keeping him here overnight with the permission of the owner of the building. We will move him to somewhere safer tomorrow. For now he needs rest.” his voice was hushed as to not stir the wounded. Alice ran her fingers through her hair, trying to calm down as she took in all this information. “...How bad is he hurt..?” Kyle bit his cheek for a moment as his eyes narrowed. “Honestly, pretty bad. He was shot a few times. Barely missed his lungs. I did emergency surgery to get the bullets out. Seth survived that luckily, but now he just has to rest tonight and he should be fine.”

Alice took all of this in while she sat there in silence. She stared at the floor as emotions welled up in her. She knew it was was a stupid idea but somehow this felt like her fault, like if he hadn’t asked her to come he would have been fine. She had the biggest crush on him for the longest time and when she finally was greedy and accepted one of his advances; this happened. Wordlessly she pulled her chair to Seth’s bedside and rested her arms on the mattress beside him and watched the steady rise and fall of his chest. This was the least she could do.

Kyle looked at his watch behind her. He clicked his tongue in annoyance as he stripped from his bloodstained lab coat. “Alice, I need to get back to the party. If anyone notices I’m gone it might look suspicious and god knows we don’t want any angry gunmen on our tails before we pinpoint who they are. Do you mind staying here with him until the party is over? We will come back and move the both of you once it's all over.” Kyle stepped over to her and grabbed her hand to place a small communication device into her hand. “If anything suspicious happens, press the button here and it will let me know something is wrong and I will come running. Ok?” Alice nodded with determination flaring behind her eyes. Kyle smiled at this as he began to leave. Once alone Alice had time to let her mind wander as she watched Seth sleeping. She couldn’t help the emotions welling up in her. Seeing Seth like this pained her greatly. Eventually she worked up the courage to grab his hand and hold it. He did not stir. Good. She held his hand with a tender touch as she tried warming the skin up with her own, remembering all the times they had spent back at the black army headquarters. She wanted him to wake up and feel better so badly and for him to be safe.

Alice wasn’t sure how much time had passed but much later Seth let out a soft groan as his eyes cracked open. His fingers closed around her hand unknowingly as he struggled to grasp where he was, looking around the dimly lit medical room in a daze. His eyes finally met hers. He looked shocked for a moment but plastered a smile on his face to hide his displeasure. She wasn’t supposed to see him like this.

“Hey Alice~”

She stayed silent. This wasn’t good. Seth gave her hand a light squeeze. “Oh come on. No smile for me? That’s all that would make me feel better you know.” His voice was light and playful but that only made Alice feel worse and it was plain on her face. She grit her teeth. “Seth, stop it…” He frowned. Tracing his thumb across her hand he looked up at her, concerned, his wide smile gone and replaced with a much softer yet sad smile. “Alice, its ok, I’m fine. Just a few-”

“You almost died Seth!!” She cut him off. Her sudden loud outburst surprised him as he watched her, his eyes wide. “How can you be so nonchalant about this? You were shot for god sakes! How the hell can you smile like that at me when-” her voice broke and she had to pause as hot tears began streaming down her cheeks. She pulled one of her hands away to wipe them away quickly. “When this is my fault.” Her voice came out in a strained whimper that pained Seth down to his core. He watched her for a moment shocked that she was crying for him. He pursed his lips together and lifted his palms to brush her cheeks.

“Alice...look at me.” His voice was much deeper and more serious than usual. Biting her lip, Alice took her hands away from her face and did as she was told. This was the first time she had seen him this serious. He gently held her cheeks in his palms as he tenderly wiped away the tears with his thumbs just as fast as they came. “Alice, I want you to look at me... You had no part in this, ok?” His voice was stern and had a tone of finality to it as if he were telling her there was no question to it. She still wasn’t convinced but nodded anyway, too engrossed in the feeling of the warmth of his palms on her cheeks to protest. She still sniffled and tears still spilled out only to be wiped away by his gentle touch. “There, there.” Seth’s tone was much more gentle, almost a whisper now. “Don’t cry.” A patient and affectionate smile rested on his lips as he continued this for as long as she needed. Minutes passed by and she had finally calmed down. He trailed his fingers down her neck before resting them on the bed. Alice relaxed into the touch and couldn’t believe how intimately he was touching her but the bliss soon turned to panic.

Seth was making a pained face as he lifted himself into a sitting position on the bed. He was somehow still nimble even with this much pain but Kyle’s words came into her mind again as she put a hand on his shoulder. “Seth what are you doing?! You need to rest.” She put as much desperation into her voice as she could but he swung his legs off the side of the bed as he grabbed her hands, lifting them gently into his and giving her the sweetest smile. A true smile. “I took you here tonight to dance with you.” Seth stood slowly even with all of the protest from his own body and from Alice beside him.

“So Alice, will you dance with me?”

Alice’s mind was reeling. “But Seth, you need to rest!” “I can rest after our dance.” Alice pursed her lips and was considering protesting more but the soft yet determined look on Seth’s face told her he wasn’t budging. With a sigh she stood and as Seth intertwined their fingers his grin widened ever so slightly. He untangled one of their hands and ran his hand down her arm slowly, only stopping when his palm came to her back. With a slow movement he pressed her to him as he slowly began to sway. She blushed as she realized just now that he was very shirtless and very warm against her face. Pushing her embarrassment down she let her cheek rest against his bare chest and her arm slide around his back. After a moment of this, Seth took a breath and began humming a slow and romantic tune that they swayed to.

The two swayed in one of the most slow and gentle slow dances she had ever seen. Gentle steps here and there as they danced to the soft tune he sung. Alice soaked in his warmth with a hidden smile on her lips that only grew when she felt his nose and lips rest atop her head, drawing her closer to him, something she didn’t think was possible. She could feel the vibrations from his humming like this and it only made her heart beat faster. A few more heartbeats passed and she could feel him leaning on her more and more. His breathing was becoming more shallow and breathy through the humming too. Holding her a bit tighter, he took in a light breath as the final note finished the song. A long pause passed between the two before he pressed his lips gently to the top of her head. “I’m sorry that I made you cry...” She shook her head which was still pressed tightly to his chest as she slowly lead him towards the bed. “It’s ok...Thank you for the dance.” She sat him down ever so gently but he still grit his teeth and couldn’t help but let out a pained hiss. She finally lifted her head and saw the sweat beading on his head. “Seth, hold on. I think you have a fever.” She went to the sink in the side of the room and grabbed a washcloth to wet it. Bringing it back over she gently helped him ease down to laying on his back as she gently dabbed the washcloth on his head. She didn’t miss how he was intently staring at her. Suddenly he smiled one of his wide flashy grins.

“I wouldn’t mind being shot every day if it meant you could take care of me like this.”

Alice nearly snorted while holding back her laugh. “Stop that! What are you even saying.”

“I’m saying that I like you…”

His smile was much more genuine as he spoke, the words barely registering in her ears. Once it finally hit her a blush spread like wildfire across her cheeks. “Seth! I um-” She jolted when his hand wrapped around her own, causing her to drop the washcloth onto the floor. He brought her hand up to his lips and kissed her fingers ever so gently. “I don’t know if this is me or my fever talking but I do know that I do like you...a lot.” His lips moved up to the top of her hand. His other hand trailed up her other arm, her neck, and rested on her cheek as he continued softly kissing her hand, moving to her wrist. She must be dreaming. This is all too much. Her heart almost leapt out of her chest when she saw his eyes look up at her again, his face much closer than before, or did she move closer to him? She wasn’t sure at his point. He kissed her arm softly and she bit her lip. “Alice, will you go out with me?” He lifted his head as his hand on her cheek went to the back of her neck. She was totally captivated. Leaning towards him slowly, almost in a trance she began to speak. He could feel her breath hot on his lips. “I, um-”

“Alice are you ok!?”

The door busted open as Kyle, Luka, and Zero ran in, swords drawn. All three looked panicked and ready to fight until they saw the scene in front of them. Zero and Luka both blushed and looked at anything else in the room while kyle had an expression that was a mixture of disappointment and disgust as he rubbed his temples. “Alice I said to watch him and let him rest, not make out with him…” Alice had bolted away as soon as she could and now couldn’t look anyone in the eyes as she covered her mouth. Seth only glared lightly at the trio. Alice glanced over to the bed and noticed a tiny flickering light under Seth’s leg. He must have sat on the alarm when he sat back down and triggered it. As Kyle sighed and walked towards his patient to make sure nothing had opened up, Alice stood and began walking away, her blush growing.

“Yes…”

It took a moment to register for Seth but after a moment his eyes lit up at her answer, followed by a bright grin. Kyle and the rest seemed confused but she didn’t care. Somehow this nightmare of a night had turned into a romantic proposal. Taking a seat against the wall she watched as Kyle examined Seth who was giving her small glances when he got the chance. She was still so worried for him but she really couldn’t help smiling back at him with giddy excitement.

[babethepig]

you were the sweetest apparition (such a pretty vision)

Summary: There is a little light shining far away.

It's a memory.

He should be somewhere else.

The light goes out.

or dan and phil wake up inside a dream.

Word count: 3836

Rating: G

(read on ao3)

This was written for @phanfictionevents Spring Fic Exchange, I was busy on posting day and then forgot completely about it.

This was a gift for @akiranonamida

I can't thank @secretlizard enough for helping me with this story and being the nicest human in this world.

Title from Saw You In A Dream by The Japanese House

The weight on his chest is constricting, Dan tries to move but it's useless, the darkness pushes down harder.

There is a little light shining far away.

It's a memory.

He should be somewhere else.

The light goes out.

✾✾✾

Dan is yanked out of his dream, gasping for air, images of the light still dancing behind his eyelids. He sits up on his bed clutching his chest, trying to ground himself, searching his bedroom for some familiarity. Same tiny bed, same brown walls. He is home, he is safe. He thinks about lying down again but he knows it would be useless so he lifts the blanket carefully, not wanting to wake Phil up, and gets out of bed.

The house is quiet, which is odd for a Monday when everyone should be running around and getting ready. He opens the door to his brother’s bedroom and takes a look. He’s not there. It must be later than he thought.

His mother is not around either. Dan shrugs and makes himself some coffee. He still has this weird feeling on his chest but tries to brush it off. Nightmares are the worst.

Dan opens the mugs cabinet and finds it empty. That’s weird. He opens the fridge and finds nothing there, he frantically checks all the cabinets and all the drawers.  They are devoid of content, all of them. Something heavy settles in his stomach.

“Mum!” He calls, even though he already knows he won’t get an answer.

He stares at the clock hanging on the kitchen wall. No matter how hard he concentrates he can’t make out what time it is.

Something seems wrong.

Then he remembers.

Phil.

Dan  races up the stairs, bewildered and confused, tripping over his own feet., He is out of breath when he reaches his bedroom. Phil is there - Why is Phil there?- still asleep in his bed, Dan doesn’t even have time to be excited about it.

“Phil,” he shakes his shoulder lightly, “wake up, Phil. Come on.”

Phil stirs, eyes opening slowly. When he focuses on Dan’s face, a little smile blooms on his lips and Dan can’t stop himself from smiling back despite the weird situation.

“Is it March fifth already?” Phil asks, clearly confused. “I don’t remember taking the train,” he frowns.

“I’m afraid something is wrong,” Dan whispers gently as if breaking bad news to a  child.

“Wrong?” Phil’s voice pitches up in concern.

Dan bites his bottom lip, “come with me.”

He takes Phil downstairs to the kitchen. Maybe, somehow, Dan has forgotten how to read the hour, or maybe he has lost his mind. They stand together in front of the clock.

“What time is it?” Dan asks.

Phil tries to read the clock.

“I… I don’t know,” he glances fearfully at Dan. “What’s going on, Dan?”

“I’m not sure,” Dan shakes his head.

“Maybe we should get out of here” Phil suggests.

Dan takes a deep breath, he feels like going outside won’t make anything better, but the empty house is starting to fee lugubrious, and somehow the shadows seem to be taking up space. He takes Phil’s hand in his and squeezes hard, probably too hard, but Phil squeezes back and it feels reassuring so he decides right there and then that they can deal with whatever is outside.

“You think it’s zombies?” Phil asks as they walk towards the front door.

“I really hope it’s not.”

Dan pulls the door open.

✾✾✾

Deserted.

The neighborhood is deserted, there are no people, no cars, no dogs barking or birds singing. There is nothing.

“I don’t like this,” Phil says, stepping closer to Dan, almost hiding behind him as if Dan could actually offer him any safety. Then Phil gasps “Look up!”

Dan does.

The sky is pin.ot the soft degraded orangish-pink of a sunset, but a solid pastel pink. And not only that, Dan can see both the moon and the sun hanging i. It’s weirdly beautiful.e needs a moment to take everything in. This is not the real world, it can’t be.

“It’s a dream,” Phil voices what Dan had only just figured out.

“Finally!” a strange voice behind them chimes in making Dan jump and Phil grasp his arm tightly. “You are now aware you are dreaming, congratulations!”

They turn around slowly, afraid of what they might find standing there, a monster or an ax murderer or a monster trying to murder them with an ax.

Dan almost laughs at what is actually there. A cat. A fluffy black cat.

“What’s up?” It says as it lifts a paw and gives it a couple of delicate licks.

“Uh…” Phil begins, “that’s what we’re wondering?” He sounds so unsure, this whole situation is bizarre.

“Oh, right,” the cat says as it just remembered what it was doing. “Before we continue, Daniel, I would appreciate it if you stopped calling me ‘it’, my name is Marvin.”

“Can you… read my thoughts?” Dan asks, incredulous.

“I’m part of your psyche so…” The cat- Marvin says, as it made any sense.

“Marvin,” Phil says, “Can you tell us what’s going on?"

“You're dreaming, dummies”.

“Like... together?” Phil frowns. “How is that possible?”

Marvin stares at them for a second and gives a languid roll of its shoulders. Was it shrugging? Cats can’t shrug! Dan thinks.

“How do we wake up? We're already aware of the dream, shouldn't we just wake up now?” Dan questions the cat.

“I’m just a cat, I don’t know those things.”

“Oh, great,” Dan rolls his eyes, “we're stuck here.”

“Not exactly, you can get out. Just find the key.”

“What key?” Phil asks now, crouching down to Marvin's level.

“The key to the door.”

“Stop being cryptic!” Dan demands.

“The cat yawns sharp teeth on display, and flicks its tail. “Follow the blue path.”

Dan looks around, “there’s no path!”

“Look again,” Marvin purrs.

Dan reluctantly does so. There’s a blue path on the ground that leads to a thick forest. “Oh, fuck you! That wasn’t there a second ago!”

Marvin stretches his little body and starts to walk away.

“Please wait!” Phil calls after him. “Where’s the key?”

“You’ll know when the time is right,” he pauses, “And Dan, a word of advice. Don’t lose Phil.”

Then Marvin disappears, just as he came.

Dan grunts, “fuck this!” he and pinches himself on the arm, hard. “Ouch!”

Phil stares, clearly concerned for his sanity, “maybe don’t do that?” Dan squints at him. “Let’s follow the path, we have literally nothing to lose.”

“Well, apparently I could lose you.”

“Marvin was just being, come on.”

“This is so stupid!” Dan complains. “Why can’t we just wake up?”

“It’s not that bad, Daniel,” Phil takes hold of Dan’s arm and starts pulling him towards the woods.

Dan looks back then, to the place where his house was just a couple of minutes ago, everything seems to be engulfed in shadows now, slowly swallowed by darkness. The anger in him is replaced by something else, the heavy feeling returns to his chest. The only way out of this place is forwards. Dan cuts his last string of resistance and follows Phil.

✾✾✾

“But this is insane,” Phil says, he has been chatting mindlessly for a while, Dan knows that it’s out of nervousness, that he feels like he needs to fill up the blank spaces talk more so none of them can actually spiral too much trying to find explanations for the inexplicable. “Were you thinking about me when you went to sleep?”

Dan is startled by the question, for a second he just stares at Phil, his brain taking a minute to process what he asked.

“Yeah?...” It sounds more like a question and Phil laughs.

“Were you then?”

“We were talking before going to bed, I guess I was thinking about you. Why does it matter though? Is not like I didn’t think about you all the time anyway,” the statement is bold and Dan immediately feels like hiding away, he bows his head down and wonders if he can blush in dreams.

Phil knocks his shoulder against Dan’s not unlike a playful cat.

“You’re always thinking about me?” he teases Dan.

“Shut up,” Dan mumbles. “And who says it’s my fault?” He looks up then, challenging Phil who only laughs again.

“It’s no one's fault, Dan. I’m just guessing that if we both were thinking about each other before going to sleep maybe that connected our dreams.”

“I don’t think that’s possible.”

“It’s just a theory,” Phil shrugs.

“Maybe I’m going mad and you’re just a figment of my imagination,” Dan half jokes.

“You’re not going mad, don’t be silly,” Phil reaches out for Dan’s hand and interlocks their fingers. “Let’s just enjoy this virtual time together.”

Dan looks back down to the blue ground beneath his feet and grants himself the liberty to be vulnerable for a moment. He squeezes Phil’s hand and pulls him closer.

“I think I just have been missing you like… a lot,” Dan confesses

“Dan,” Phil tugs playfully at their linked hands, “I miss you too.”

“You think that we miss each other so hard that our subconscious got connected somehow?”

Phil gives him a warm smile and a little shrug, “maybe.”

“I hate not knowing what's going on,” Dan whispers Like there could be someone eavesdropping them. In a dream. In their minds.

Phil nods silently. Dan wants to be in control… of what exactly? This is their minds, after all, mixed together somehow. They must have some sort of control.

Still, there’s nothing more terrifying than being trapped in your own mind.

“Greetings wanderers,” says a posh voice.

Dan whips his head up. There is someone standing in front of a little fence that cuts the blue path in half.

The slender figure is dressed in what looks like a long and colorful garment, but as they get closer, Dan can see that they are actually covered in butterflies hundreds, maybe even thousands of living, moving little insects are poised on this entity's body. A long arm stretches out, its thin hand clutching a very big and very purple flower as if it were an umbrella. And the oddities don't cease there, the hair on the creature's head is an emerald flare that seems to dance in the wind, and a third eye blinks at them from the middle of their face.

“Hello,” Phil says as if nothing weird is going on and he is just greeting an old friend.

“You look like a clever little one,” they tell Phil, looking him up and down with their three eyes. “I have a riddle for you!” They smile a toothy smile and lean their head to the side. “Tell me, what starts with "e", ends with "e" but only has one letter?”

Phil seems to think about it for a second, goes as far as tapping his chin in a contemplative way. Dan is still trying to process all the new information that is entering his brain when Phil makes a triumphant sound.

“An envelope!” He says.

“Well done,” the entity cheers. “Now you can walk through my garden. Careful with the flowers, they like a little gossip,” they blink their third eye to Phil. Dan is only mildly disturbed while Phil looks completely delighted by the whole situation.

They start walking towards the open door on the fence, Phil leading the way but just as Dan is about to walk through, the door closes.

“Not so fast little one,” they stop Dan. “I have a riddle for you too.”

“Uhh, I-”

They interrupt him, “What belongs to you but others use more than you do?”

Dan is speechless, frozen to his place; utterly and bloody confused, to say the least. His brain just can’t analyze this right now.

“I don’t know,” he tells them.

“Come on sweetheart, you have it on you,” the butterflies on the entity’s body flap their wings as to encourage him.

Dan tries to think about it because he wants to go, he wants to wake up and apparently the only way out is He racks his brains until something lights up in his head. The thing with riddles is that once you see it, you can’t stop seeing it, and more often than not, the answer is painfully obvious.

“Your name!” Dan yells and goes as far as giving a victorious jump.

“Hurray!” The entity celebrates with him. “Now you can continue,” he opens the door for Dan. “Farewell wanderers!”

Phil waves vigorously at them and they wave back. The butterflies take flight and the entity disappears with them.

“That was so cool,” Phil says. He is excited.

Dan can’t help but smile too because… well, it was quite cool after all.

“Also, look at this place,” Phil continues his chatter. “These flowers are so pretty!”

Tall, vibrant flowers rose along both sides of the path, all kinds of them. Roses and lilies and tulips and others that Dan can't name. The most vibrant colors adorn their petals, the wind carries the fragrance of them, a scent as sweet as the feeling of getting out of the train at  Piccadilly Station to see Phil. The smell is warm and familiar and Dan finds himself at peace for the very first time since waking up inside this dream.

A strange murmur reaches his ears, it seems to get closer and clearer and after a moment Dan is able to make out what they’re saying.

“I think he drools when he sleeps.”

“What?” Dan wonders out loud, confusion tinting his voice.

“And he snores too,” there is a laugh followed by other many laughs.

“You are hearing that too, right?” Dan asks Phil.

Phil nods, “I am,” he looks puzzled too. “Umm, sorry. Who snores?” Phil inquires.

“Dan,” replies a delicate voice, “Dan snores.”

“And drools,” another voice chimes in.

“I don’t!” Dan stutters, indignant.

Phil looks around, trying to find who these voices belong to. Then Dan remembers what the owner of the garden said.

“The flowers,” he tells Phil. “They like to gossip,” he laughs.

“We don’t!” a bunch of flowers say at the same time.

“We like information.”

“Alright,” Dan claps his hands together. “We’re fine with that,” he takes Phil’s hand and drags him further along the path. Dan can see the end of the garden and he wants to get them out before the flowers drive them mad.

“Phil is messy.”

“So messy.”

“He leaves his socks everywhere.”

Dan can’t help but laugh at that, he already knows that from the times he has been at Phil house, in Phil’s rooms. He can’t say he minds that much.

“This is kinda fun,” Dan tells Phil.

Phil pouts, “I’m not having fun.”

“You are in love, aren’t you?”

“Can you believe Dan whipped for Phil?”

“So smitten.”

“They’re cute.”

Bowing his head to hide his huge grin, Dan continues walking with Phil right beside him. And the flowers continue blabbing away.

“You’re enjoying this quite a bit, eh?” Phil says.

“Can’t deny it’s funny,” Dan shrugs

“Well, I’m glad you’re not grumpy anymore.”

“I was not grumpy!”

“You were!” One of the flowers says just as they are reaching the end of the garden.

“Thanks!” Phil yells back.

Dan punches his arm lightly and Phil shoves him away playfully.

They walk, following the path in comfortable silence, enjoying the view of trees and pink skies. Dan can spot some mountains in the distance. He feels calm, maybe even happy.e allows himself to close his eyes, to breath, to forget that this is a dream. A light breeze hits his face, the ground feels firm under his feet… until it doesn’t.

A hand grips his arm quickly, Dan can barely leave out a little yelp before he is falling to the ground. He looks around, startled. There’s a fucking cliff.

“Holly shit!” Dan yells.

“Your eyes were closed?!” Phil yells back.

Dan just lets his back hit the ground again, he covers his eyes with his hands as a burst of hysterical laughter is ripped off his chest. Phil throws himself over Dan’s torso, his body shaking with Dan’s.

“Fuck!” Dan says between laughs. “Thanks for pulling me back.”

Phil shakes his head, face still buried on Dan’s chest, “that appeared out of nowhere.”

Dan pats his back gently.

They get up of the ground eventually and take a look at their possibilities.

“We can’t build a bridge,” Phil points out, “the space between the cliffs is too wide.”

As if on cue, a fluffy white cloud descends from the sky and places itself close to the edge of the cliff.

Dan looks at it, distrusting. “We’re not gonna jump on it.”

Phil seems to think about it, “it might be the only way.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Dan mutters under his breath. Phil’s probably right.

Dan accepts his fate, he runs as fast as he can till he reaches the edge and then jumps. He closes his eyes and doesn’t open them up until he feels the soft surface of the cloud under his body. Phil follows his seconds after.

“Now what?” Phil asks.

The cloud starts moving. It’s a gentle and consistent movement, it almost feels pleasant. They fly past the limits of the other cliff, furrowing the skies. Dan looks down, a purple river flows through the woods and as they move forward, the colors of the trees change from green to the softest yellow and orange and blue.

They land after a couple of minutes, and the cloud lets them down before flying away again.

But things aren’t over, Dan can feel it. The path becomes narrower and narrower, flanked by tall bushes on both sides. They reach a bifurcation, and Dan thinks he knows what's going on. They’re in a maze now. He turns around to tell Phil what he figured out, but Phil is not there.

“Phil!” He calls.

No answer.

“Phil!” He tries again.

Silence.

“Phil!!” He screams.

Phil’s not there. Dan lost him, as Marvin had warned earlier. He had lost Phil.

He runs, turning, speeding around corners,  running and running and running. He is going in circles, he knows, but he is desperate to get out. The walls seem to be getting closer and closer together, trapping him. The darkness is back, he can feel it creeping behind him but he is too scared to look so he runs. He closes his eyes at some point, as he has been doing so many times in the time he has been here, but now is for a different reason. He feels no peace, all he feels is a creaking fear that makes him shiver.

Normal dreams can turn into nightmares just as light can turn into darkness.

Dan needs to breath, to get it together, to find Phil, to wake up.

He lets himself fall to the ground, hugs his knees to his chest and rocks himself back and forth. Dan needs to find control, he needs to feel like he can stop this at any moment. If this is a dream- his dream, he wants out.

The darkness goes through him, he can feel it, his muscles going tense, all the hair on his body standing up, his heart beating faster and faster… For a moment everything is pure fear, and then it is gone.

Something touches his shoulder, Dan flinches away. He can only hear muffled noises, it’s like his ears are stuffed, but even in the distance, even like this, there’s a voice he can always recognize.

“Dan, Dan, can you hear me?”

Dan whips his head towards the voice in a manner that would have given him an instant headache on any other day. Phil is here, crouching down beside him.

“I lost you,” Dan pant, reaching for Phil, pulling him closer, making him stumble a little and almost tumble into his lap. Dan holds him there. “It was so fucking awful, I just wanted to make it stop.”

“You did,” Phil tells him, rubbing his back in soothing circles. “I was looking for you but I just couldn’t see you anywhere and then you kind of just appeared”.

“What?”

“I don’t know, it was like something shifted. I suddenly knew where to turn to find you,” Phil explains.

“Do you know where the key is?” Dan asks with a breathy laugh, not really expecting Phil to say yes.

“I think I do,” Phil says slowly.

“Do you really?” Dan pulls away from Phil to see his face.

He nods, “I told you, something shifted. I think I know the way out of the maze.”

Phil helps Dan to stand up and they walk hand in hand to prevent anyone from getting lost again. It feels like an eternity before they make the final turn. The hedge ends, and they can see the trees again. They step out of the maze and Dan feels like he could cry. Phil doesn’t stop though, he keeps walking towards a large tree, Dan stumbles behind him.

Phil drops to the ground and starts digging with his bare hands, Dan is confused but he kneels down too and helps.

Dan touches it first, “there’s something here!” He exclaims, filled with anticipation.

They dig faster and soon uncover a small box. Dan pulls it out and hands it to Phil.

The key.

The freaking key is inside.

Dan leaps up and jumps in for joy, and Phil joins him immediately. He pulls Dan into a hug. Dan is crying.

“Where’s the door though?” Phil asks after a moment.

“Turn around.” Dan knows that voice, they have heard it before.

They turn to see Marvin standing there, in front of a door that wasn’t there a minute ago.

Phil steps forward, holding the key out. He opens the door.

“Uhh-”

A black void stretches endlessly void on the other side of the door.

“It’s a leap of faith,” Marvin offers, cocking his head to the side.

Dan doesn’t even blink, “Well fuck it, we’re getting out of here.” He reaches for his hand. “Ready?”

Their eyes meet. There’s a feeling of complicity between them, Phil smiles. “Let’s jump.”

“Okay,” Dan smiles back at him.

“One.”

“Two.”

“Three,” Marvin chimes in.

They jump.

✾✾✾

Dan wakes up abruptly, He is back in his bedroom. He can’t believe it, he touches his chest and his face and pinches himself on the arm just in case, even if that didn’t prove anything when he was in the actual dream. The dream. It was just a dream. A crazy, probably missing-Phil-induced dream. Phil is gonna laugh so hard when Dan tells him, he thinks.

His phone rings, and he picks it from the nightstand.

It’s Phil.

“Dan?” He says as soon as Dan answers, he sounds excited. “You’re not gonna believe this. I just had the weirdest dream,” a pause. Dan know what he is going to say, “and you were there!”

[marmolady]

Broken Chains: Revival

Book/Series: Endless Summer

Main Pairings: Estela x MC/Taylor (f), Quinn x Michelle

Summary: Part 3: Post-ending (Endless ending). With Estela by her side, Taylor must face her destiny and set Vaanu free. But at what cost?

Word Count: 7033

Warnings: Probably rated M to be safe, for language.

Previous chapter/Next chapter

AO3

Estela descended from the elevator first, her every sense alert, and spear at the ready. Somewhere within the glowing red caverns lurked the oryctoraptor, and there was little doubt that it would respond strongly to a rare intrusion into its domain.

Following a few steps behind, Taylor was quietly grateful for Estela’s courageous and capable presence by her side. It was now down to the wire, and there was no room for emotion to dull their response to the danger they faced. She moved carefully, aware of every foot placement, knowing that a clatter of rocks could be enough to get them in hot water, fast.

Letting out a breath that she’d been holding subconsciously, Estela put a hand on Taylor’s arm. “The crystal was down that way, right?” she whispered. “It looks like we’re clear for now.”

The passageway that had been opened up by the placement of the clawprint orb remained. As she passed through, at Estela’s heels, Taylor found herself overwhelmed by the drumming of her own heart. There could be no more denial, no more delaying. She focused her mind, reaching across the island.

Varyyn.

The sleeping elyyshar’s mind connected with her own, and Taylor spoke to him.

I am returning my essence to Vaanu. Bring help to the caverns beneath Atropo; we might need it. She shared with him a vision of their surroundings, calling him. I might not be human enough to go on living. This could be the last thing I ask of anyone; get Estela home safe. Please, keep her safe.

Closing her mind to any response, Taylor trained her senses back to her surroundings, listening for the slightest hint of movement in the caves. From behind came a faint sound of disturbed rocks, and she froze, feeling Estela become still beside her, coiled up to strike.

Estela smoothly slipped behind Taylor, facing back in the direction from which they’d come. She raised her spear. With a glance, she encouraged her companion to keep moving forward. If the demon reptile wanted to harm Taylor, it would have to go through her first.

Taylor crept onwards on light feet, choosing a path that took her close to geysers in which they might hide themselves should the raptor emerge. Suddenly, she felt herself nudged towards one. Taking the hint, she shrouded herself in the spray, with Estela pressed up against her, hiding. She felt a shift behind her as Estela pulled an arm back, ready to take out the threat.

The oryctoraptor stalked into view, its head cocked, listening for the source of the movement that had drawn it in.

Taylor held her breath.

Long toe claws clicking against the hard earth with each step, the raptor came closer, slowly passing their hiding place. Then, its rump now facing them, its keen eyes trained on the movements of a small lizard on the other side of the cave, and Estela struck. The raptor shrieked as the spear connected with its thigh, driven deep into the flesh by the force of the throw. It whirled around, squalling, its bright eyes flashing with rage. With its attackers still out of view and utterly silent, it turned and fled, the spear still buried in its leg.

With a gasp, Taylor stepped out of the flume. She could only hope that the injury would be enough to keep the raptor at bay- especially as they’d now lost their most effective weapon. Joining her, Estela took out her obsidian dagger.

“If it comes back, I’ll be ready.”

Taylor nodded shakily. Focused as she was on the sacrifice she was about to make, she’d not quite been prepared for the threat that stood between her and the crystal pillar. The path forward was now clear, but it was obvious that they couldn’t linger. Her time was up.

 _____________________________

In Elyys’tel, a sleeping Diego was disturbed by Varyyn stirring around him. He blearily opened his eyes to see his husband hastily gathering supplies and squirrelling them into a satchel.

“What… what’s going on? Are you all right?”

Varyyn turned, and the fearful look in his eye unsettled Diego. “I’m sorry, Diego. There may be trouble. I didn’t wish to wake you; you’ve had so little sleep.”

“Trouble? What kind of trouble?”

“I think Taylor seeks to reunite her spirit --her being-- with Vaanu. To restore the earth and all those lost in the fires beyond La Huerta.”

Diego gave a shuddered gasp, suddenly wide awake as though someone had thrown a bucket of ice water over him. His Taylor, his best friend… she was sacrificing herself. “No! Varyyn, you have to stop her! She’ll be gone.… W-where’s Estela? She wouldn’t let Taylor do this-”

“They’re together. Diego, you must trust me.” Varyyn strode across the room in a smooth stride, his eyes filled with concern.

“Of course, I…” Diego’s voice shook. He should have known. He could tell that something was going on beneath the surface with Taylor. Why didn’t he realise? “I… I trust you.”

“I will take several scouts to the chasm. We must be prepared… the Deep Guardian will not welcome intrusion. And you… must stay here, my love.”

“Stay? No! Varyyn, I can’t!”

“Diego…” Varyyn put his hand on his love’s shoulder and squeezed.

“I trust you, but…”

“We will need to move swiftly. Taylor is fearing for her life; I may need to carry her to safety. My love, you could not be expected to keep the pace.”

Of course, he was right, but it hurt Diego’s heart to accept it. There was no doubt in his mind that Taylor run to his side if ever he were in danger. He put his arms around Varyyn. “What can I do?”

Varyyn looked down into Diego’s pleading eyes, his expression one of determination. “I will seek the mind of our chief healer if we need it, but I want you to prepare Michelle. If they’re hurt, she’ll be of help."

“Okay… okay…” Diego’s heart was hammering. That he’d been sound asleep just moments ago seemed impossible; he’d never been more alert in his life. “I’ll… I’ll find Michelle.” He staggered toward the arched door of their sleeping quarters. “Varyyn…”

“Diego, I will care for her life as if it were yours. I will care for both of them.”

A lump in his throat, Diego nodded. Deep fear settled in his belly. If Taylor was giving herself back to Vaanu, there could be nothing left of her to save.

  _________________________

The glowing crystal called to Taylor, drawing her in. The cavern seemed to ring with silence, even as she kept putting one foot in front of the other. All she could hear was the thundering of her own heart. She walked close to Estela, so that their thighs brushed with each opposing stride; a small comfort to carry her those last agonising steps.

“Taylor,” Estela breathed, barely audible. “I love you. I… I’ll stay with you, ‘til the end.”

“I love you too. I love you… I love you…” Taylor spoke in whisper, her face fast becoming wet with tears against her wife’s neck.

Estela held her tight, easing her towards the crystal pillar and crouching down in the ethereal light that radiated from it. How could something so beautiful cause so much pain? Even as she felt fury bubble up within her, she forced it down. It was unfair… horrifically so, but anger wouldn’t give Taylor what she needed.

Tears streaming down her face, Taylor crouched before the pillar, feeling an overwhelming pull towards it.  She gave a little sob. Vaanu. I’m giving you what’s yours. Let me go. Let me go. Please.

“No more crying now…” Estela roughly brushed aside her own tears and tenderly lifted Taylor’s face towards her own. “There’s all the time to be sad. But right now, you have me, and I have you. And you’re about to save everyone.”

Except for us, Taylor thought. Except for you. Under the sweet caress of her love’s fingers, she became calm.

“Estela, I’m so-“ she croaked, only to be cut off.

“No. Don’t do that.” Estela’s voice was firm, but unmistakeably loving. She ran her thumb across Taylor’s cheek, reassuring her that there was nothing to apologise for, that there was no need for regret in these last moments.

Taylor gazed into her eyes, just inches from her face, and felt them staring into her soul, burning with affection. She let the feeling, of total, blissful connection, fill her up, giving her all the courage she’d ever need. If she had to go, this was how it had to be. “I’m gonna touch it now…” Her voice came out far steadier than she’d expected. “Will you hold me… kiss me?” Kiss me goodbye…

Estela took Taylor’s face in her hands and drew it to her lips, kissing her slow and lingering, pouring the love that was breaking her heart into that last goodbye. An arm around her torso pulled her closer, while Taylor’s other hand reached out, offering herself. Finally, she could no longer hold back the tears, and she let them fall.

Even while her heart soared as she responded fervently, desperately, to the most breathtaking of kisses, Taylor kept reaching. Vaanu. Please, don’t take me away. She laid her hand upon the brilliant crystal pillar, and a familiar glow began to overwhelm her. Let me stay with her.

The light was blinding, and in its wake came pain, burning through every inch of Taylor’s body, a pain unlike anything she’d felt before. She doubled over and tried to scream, but no sound came out. Even though she knew Estela was there, she couldn’t see nor even feel her. She tried to reach out, to call for her, but she was totally lost. She felt herself slipping away, the light giving way to darkness as her body writhed in agony. Her every cell screaming, it became all too much. Taylor slumped forward and became still, falling into nothingness.

  __________________________

The night-- or rather, the early morning, had become still, blaring music, shouts and laughter having finally ceased. The revellers-- in various states of intoxication-- had returned to their homes, save for a few who’d simply crashed on the beach.

Bzzzzzzzzzzzztttt!

A phone vibrated noisily beside Craig and Zahra’s bed. Ignoring the groaning beside him, Craig reached out and tried to make sense of the writing on the screen. Easier said than done for someone who that night had come close to replacing every drop of water in his body with alcohol.

“Yo, Z--“

“Volume. Down. Or I will stab you,” came a muffled voice from beneath the covers.

Bzzzzzzzzzzzztttt!

“I think I’ve got missed calls…”

“From where? The afterlife?”

Craig’s eyes grew wide. “D’you really think…?”

“No, asshat! Just shut it off and let me sleep.’

Bzzzzzzzzzzzztttt!

“That actually sounds like a really good idea…” Craig’s words were slurred. “I feel like this buzzing is gonna make my brain explode. You’re so smart.” Clumsily mashing the buttons, he managed to turn off the offending phone before slumping over the bedside table. “Ugh… night, Player One…”

Zahra responded with just a little grunt but edged into his side of the bed so that her back was against his side and her head resting on his outstretched arm. Within seconds, she’d succumbed to a deep slumber, thinking nothing of the phone going off for no reason at all. At the very edge of humanity’s survival, a malfunctioning mobile had little meaning.

  A lone figure amid the now-deserted party decorations and discarded bottles that were strewn far and wide between Elyys’tel and the village, Diego was growing increasingly frantic. For a good half hour he’d been hammering on Michelle’s door to no response. Knowing how much everyone had been drinking, it would have been reasonable to assume that she was home but pretty much dead to the world. Doubting himself, Diego had wandered by Quinn’s place and knocked on the door there too, having seen the two of them side by side for most of the night, but still, nothing.

Running his hands through his hair, he tried to calm himself. Michelle was somewhere in the village; he’d just have to try every hut. Jeez, Taylor-- of all the nights to do this, it had to be the one where everyone was off their face drunk. He turned to head up the hill, to start searching his friends’ places one by one --surely someone would know where to find Michelle-- and was stopped in his tracks as his eye fell upon the expanse of sea before him. The orange glow on the horizon, the endlessly burning fires�� it had all gone out. Taylor had done it. And he’d lost her.

  ___________________________

The crystal pillar was gone, and Taylor lay crumpled on the rocky ground. Her heart pounding in her ears, Estela searched desperately for a pulse, but found nothing. Through her tears, she began chest compressions and mouth-to-mouth. God, Taylor, why did you have to do this?

“Come on, come on… don’t you dare leave me…”

She had no idea how long it was --it felt like an eternity-- but finally she caught a faint pulse. Trembling, Estela leant over her wife’s chest. Taylor was breathing… just. She gave her a little shake, but the body in her arms was limp and totally unresponsive.

“Taylor? Taylor! Can you hear me? Taylor!” It was like talking to a brick wall; cold and silent, and empty. “I’m gonna get you outta here… I’m gonna get you home. Just stay with me, okay? I can’t lose you… I can’t…”

Estela hauled Taylor over her shoulders, holding onto her with one hand, while the other gripped the dagger. The oryctoraptor was somewhere in the caverns, and no doubt in a foul mood after being injured. With such a dangerous threat present on Estela’s mind, placed each step with care, creeping forward in the direction that she knew would lead out towards Elyys’tel, but moving quietly was near impossible while carrying such a heavy dead weight.

After a little way, she stopped to check on Taylor. She could feel her breathing, shallow, laboured, but was nothing else… not a twitch or a flicker of the eyelids to suggest that she was still there. That face had been so full of life, but now… nothing. Panic began to grip at Estela’s core, the relief of having revived Taylor dwindling away rapidly. By all technicalities, Taylor was still clinging to life, but was there even any of her left in that hollow shell? There was no Taylor here, not the effervescent, courageous spirit who brimmed with life and love. Estela tried desperately to wake her; pouring water over her face, shaking her, slapping her, crying out for her, losing all concern about keeping quiet as a frantic need to get some kind of response --anything-- consumed her. The devastating reality hit her like a train, and she fell sobbing against Taylor’s chest.

The strangled cry of an animal in pain startled Estela to her senses. Her blood ran cold. Emotion had made a reckless fool out of her. There was no space here to feel; however strong the pull to dissolve into anguish, she had to stay sharp. She simply could not face down the beast with a limp body in her arms; the raptor had to be dealt with. Keeping one eye on the dark corners of the cavern, she hauled Taylor up onto a ledge, just above head height. There was no doubt that the raptor could scale the rockface with ease, but she could only hope that it would keep Taylor out of its line of sight.

“Hang on for me, please, just… I’ll be back… I promise I’m not leaving you…” Estela’s voice was hushed as she nuzzled close to Taylor’s face. Her protective instinct flared up, the only thing powerful enough to drag her from her love’s side. “Hold on… hold on…”

She stalked further along the ledge, back in the direction they’d come from, her dagger tight in her grip. Hissing with rage, the raptor rounded the corner. Even with a noticeable limp and a spear hanging from its thigh, it was swift and agile. Once again, Estela held her breath. From her vantage point above the reptile’s head, there was a chance she could maintain the element of surprise. In obvious pain, the raptor walked with its head down, oblivious to the whereabouts of its attacker. Finally, it moved beneath the ledge, and Estela vaulted down to its side, yanking the spear from its hide before it knew what hit it. Blood gushed and the raptor screeched. It spun on its haunches, jaws snapping. Estela masterfully leapt out of the way, but the spear was knocked down into a deep crevice by the beast’s tail as it swung through the air. It was a blow, but she still had her dagger on hand. She danced around the raptor; even with it grievously injured, she could only just stay ahead of its jaws and talons as she searched for an opening. If she could just keep it up for long enough, the raptor would surely succumb to the gaping wound that continued to pour blood from its side. The only trouble was, it wasn’t the only one that was exhausted. Even as the raptor slowed, Estela did too, and her focus waned as unbidden thoughts of Taylor slipping away, alone and abandoned, crept into her mind. She’d been away too long-- she had to finish this, and fast.

Taking a chance, she threw herself back up onto the ledge, scrambling to get a foothold while swinging at the raptor. Her aim was true, and her blade sliced open the beast’s shoulder from above, narrowly missing swiping talons that reached out, clawing the air. Enraged, the raptor jumped, catching Estela’s leg in its maw and sinking razor sharp teeth down into her flesh, ripping, tearing. She gave a single yell of shock and pain, and held onto the jagged rock for dear life as the raptor tried to drag her down. Estela could feel a wet warmth spreading down to her foot but didn’t let it distract her-- she had to keep fighting until the monster could cause Taylor no harm. The cavern appeared to swim around her, colours blurring together. No. You won’t fucking hurt her. With a guttural shout and every ounce of strength she had, Estela plunged her free hand down, driving her dagger deep into the raptor’s skull. It gave an ear shattering shriek, releasing the searing pressure on her calf, and fell away. Estela panted heavily as she struggled to crawl forward on bloodied and grazed hands, but she managed to drag herself back to Taylor, leaving a trail of blood dark against the earth. Blood loss and fatigue left her mind sluggish; she couldn’t get a sense of who or what the figures coming towards her were, whether it was the raptor returning or some new threat. Was it even real, or just her exhausted mind playing tricks on her? All she knew was to drape herself protectively over Taylor’s frail, unconscious form, shielding her with her last ebb of strength before succumbing to the darkness herself. “Tayl-…”

 __________________________

Nestled in against the soft skin of Quinn’s shoulder, Michelle was sleeping soundly when a resounding bang on the door jolted her to her senses. She sat up, realising that she wasn’t home; she was at Quinn’s place. She was sure she’d heard some idiot yelling her name earlier, but being rather hammered and with a sporting a splitting post-party headache, she’d put a pillow over her head and blocked it out. Whoever it was out there was now too loud to ignore-- and she prepared herself to give them a piece of her mind. Not wanting to wake Quinn unnecessarily, she crept to the window to see who it was that was bothering them at such an ungodly hour. Probably, she imagined, one of her friends, wasted after the party. To her surprise, the figure that peered up at her was Vaanti; the head healer, Ravyya.

“Canis and I have been searching for you. I’m afraid it is urgent, Pavo. I have received word from Varyyn that friends of yours are in critical condition. You must hurry.”

The bottom seemed to fall out of Michelle’s stomach. “What? Who-- who’s hurt?”

“The Catalysts Draco and Andromeda. We must be ready to meet them as Varyyn’s scouts return from the caverns of Atropo. They can cover the distance swiftly, but time is of the essence.”

“I’ll just be a moment- thank you.”

Suddenly wide awake, and gripped by a cold fear, Michelle hurriedly gathered her clothes and dressed herself. What the hell is going on? Tentatively, she nudged Quinn’s shoulder. “Quinn… I’m sorry, you’ve got to wake up.”

“… Michelle…” Even with her eyes bleary and filled with sleep, Quinn could see that something was wrong. “Wha-- what’s happened?”

“I honestly don’t know. Taylor and Estela are hurt, or sick…. I don’t know what’s going on, but I know it’s bad. I’m going to the med centre.”

“I’m coming with you.”

They hurried out the door met, with Diego, who’d caught up with Ravyya.

“Diego! Please tell me you know what’s going on here….” Michelle felt sick. Diego looked utterly bereft, grief-stricken. Whatever this was, it was serious.

Quinn put her arms around Diego, and he cried into her shoulder. “Diego… what is it? What’s happened?”

Ravyya spoke. “See for yourself.” She pointed a long, muscular arm out towards the sea. “Earth is restored. Time has been healed by the gift of Andromeda’s essence back to the source-- Vaanu.”

Michelle looked completely bewildered, but Quinn gasped, tears raining down in an instant, knowing exactly what this meant. “Taylor… sacrificed herself?”

Diego nodded shakily. “I think she’s gone…”

“What has come to pass is not important!” said Ravyya impatiently, already beginning to stride towards Elyys’tel. “It does not matter why we have patients, only that we heal them. If you can talk and move hurriedly, you may do so, but there is no time to linger.”

They walked quickly, with all bar Ravyya trying to wrap their heads around an impossible situation. It had been mere hours since they’d seen Taylor and Estela-- laughing, dancing, just as though it had been any other of the Catalysts’ wild parties. When Michelle looked out onto the horizon, she could see for herself that the early morning sky had changed. Could it be true? Could the world be… back? And how?

“What do you mean, Taylor’s gone?” she asked, her voice quivering. “How could she return to Vaanu? She’s… she’s human now!”

“Andromeda has never truly been human,” Ravyya said. “We expected that, having given herself to Vaanu, she would disappear, leaving with the rest of the entity to the world from which they came. But her body remains.”

Diego looked up, eyebrows knitted in confusion. “Do you mean she’s… dead? That was never supposed to happen--”

“Ack! There is no ‘supposed to’. You must have learned by now that the mysteries of Vaanu, of the universe itself, can never be truly understood. We have made guesses, predictions… that is all. And no, Canis, she is not dead. Varyyn gave message of two Catalysts found. Alive, but unconscious and in grave peril. Why would I gather healers to tend to a corpse, stupid child?”

Falling quiet, Diego dared feel a glimmer of hope. Taylor was still with them.

With the arm that wasn’t around Diego’s shoulders, Quinn reached out and took Michelle’s hand. She looked positively shell-shocked. “’Chelle… whatever this is, we’ll take care of them. Miracles have worked for us before…”

Michelle sniffed and gratefully squeezed Quinn’s hand. There was no miracle-cure Heart now. All they had was themselves; an ambitious pre-med in over her head, and the Vaanti’s traditional healers. But she’d be damned if she was to give up. As she trudged purposefully onwards, she couldn’t help herself from glancing out to sea again and again. That everything had returned after all this time… it wouldn’t sink in. It couldn’t feel real next to the friends she’d fought, cried, laughed and lived with for the past year. Compared to the overwhelming need to get to Taylor and Estela, to keep them safe, the saving of the world was almost inconsequential.

 After what felt like an age, they arrived at Elyys’tel’s medical centre. For the past months, the small facility had been Michelle’s baby. Her dreams for the future had been dashed, but her ambition was too much for her to be held back. She’d led a team to MASADA, sourcing medical equipment and pharmaceuticals from Rourke’s extensive laboratories. His fascination for medicine served her well, for the library also turned out to be a treasure trove. With Varyyn’s blessing, she’d started a small clinic, where she assisted the traditional Vaanti healers, all the while studying late into the night. Even so early in her education, her medical knowledge outstripped that of anyone else on La Huerta, and she’d grown in confidence treating the minor illnesses and injuries that cropped up in the small population. This, though, would be her first major challenge.

Between Michelle, Quinn and Ravyya, they brought out a pair of beds and gathered supplies. Not knowing what they’d be faced with, they prepared for the worst, and the room was soon set up with monitoring machines, ventilators and drips. Diego could only look on, at a loss as to how to help. As she finished making one of the beds, Quinn noticed him looking lost and reached out to him.

“Do you need a hug?”

“So much.” Diego let Quinn wrap her arms around him. Of course he’d needed a hug. He just wished it was coming from Taylor.

Ravyya approached them. “They are here. It is best you wait outside. We will let you know if they are ready for visitors.”

Hand in hand, Quinn and Diego walked out and faced the morning. It looked like any other day on La Huerta, but everything had changed.

Varyyn walked past them, Taylor in his arms, and Diego felt his stomach do a somersault. She looked like death itself….

Michelle was immediately at Varyyn’s side, helping him settle Taylor onto one of the beds. She began examining her and was alarmed by her pallor and feeble vitals. She hastily hooked her up to the monitors. “She was unconscious when you found her?”

“They both were. Her heart stopped on the journey; it was a fight to bring her back.”

Just then, Seraxa entered the room, her front stained with blood, and laid Estela down onto the other bed.

“Oh my god! What happened?” Michelle put her hands to her mouth as she saw the jagged tear down Estela’s calf. It was partially closed, but oozed blood.

“The Deep Guardian,” said Seraxa solemnly. “the most wily of Vaanu’s servants. She would not have welcomed their trespass. We healed as well as could be done with our leaves, but this is too deep a wound for the treatment to be effective.”

As Ravyya hooked Estela up to a drip, replenishing the fluids she’d lost, Michelle collected herself. She was way out of her depth-- she was just a pre-med-- but friends needed her to hold it together.

“This is gonna need stitches,” she said shakily. “If you hadn’t worked quickly, she would have bled out… this is… huge.” Michelle had not dealt with such an extensive wound before. She gave Estela’s fingers a little squeeze before taking her scissors and beginning to cut away the pants from the bloodied leg. “I-it’s okay…” she stammered, before taking a deep breath and collecting herself. “I’ve got you.”

 ____________________________

Sean strolled out his front door, blinking in the sunlight. A little hungover, he could not say he envied the headaches that some of his friends would be sporting when they woke up. Desperate for fresh air, he headed down to the beach, picking up discarded bottles and cans as he went. Just another morning after. Or at least… it seemed that way. Until he saw a small dot on the horizon. If he didn’t know any better, he’d have said it was a boat in the distance, but that simply wasn’t possible. He wandered idly, but couldn’t stop looking back to the sea, to the dot that wasn’t a boat. Humouring himself, he reached into his pocket for his phone, which for the last year had functioned only as a camera. As he glanced down at it, Sean wondered how much he had been drinking. He had reception. More than that, he had ten missed calls and three text messages… from his mother.

Tears sprang to his eyes. These must have been from when she’d been caught up in the catastrophic eruption… final goodbyes. He slumped down onto his knees in the sand and tried to find the courage to press ‘play’, to hear his mother’s final words. And then the screen lit up- an incoming call. His heart in his throat, Sean answered, and the voice that spoke to him made him break down in sobs.

“Momma?”

 _________________________

Struggling to control the nervous tremor in her hands, Michelle pulled the edges of Estela’s lacerated calf together and sutured them closed. She’d had Ravyya take an x-ray-- one of the many godsend pieces of equipment that Rourke had left behind-- and had been relieved to find that no bones had been broken by the raptor’s strong jaws. The lower part of the leg had, however, been ravaged. Muscle was left torn and ragged, a tendon ruptured, and the damage trailed down the ankle. The leaves had worked to save Estela from blood loss so far, but Michelle had needed to disturb the partially healed wound in order to effectively sew it back together. The whole thing had been an absolute mess and the pressure near overwhelming.

Sensing her colleague’s insecurity, Ravyya gave Michelle an encouraging smile- a rare thing for the stern Vaanti. “She has recovered well from bleeding. It looks as though the danger has passed.”

“If this doesn’t heal properly, she could lose the leg…:

“Nonsense! What you cannot do, our herbs will. This leg will heal.”

Michelle almost allowed herself to feel heartened when a high-pitched alarm pierced the air. Taylor was arresting… again. Frantic, Michelle put her bloodied hands to Taylor’s chest and began compressions. It was everything she’d dreaded. The cycle felt endless; compressions… mouth-to-mouth…compressions, over and over again. Tiring, she let Ravyya take over. Thirty minutes… forty…

“Pavo, I think we should stop now.”

“Let me keep going.” Michelle didn’t know how she managed to get the words out. But she had to try, just a few minutes longer. Even as her whole body shook with fear, she kept fighting. “Come back to me Taylor… come on!” she growled. Light-headed, falling deeper into a terrified daze, a voice in her head told her that it was over. She knew it, but she didn’t know how she could accept it. Taylor’s life was in her hands.

“Pavo!”

Michelle ignored the admonishment and put her mouth to Taylor’s, giving rescue breaths for what she knew had to be the last time. And the monitor’s intermittent beeping resumed, reading a pulse. Feeling as though she was going to faint, she put her hands on Taylor, checking her vitals once more. “We’ve got her back.”

Ravyya gave the smallest of smiles. “It seems your judgement was correct. But you should not let ties of the heart interfere with your decisions. Come. Finish tidying this up. I will observe Andromeda myself.”

  Mid-morning, and with both her patients finally stable, Michelle retreated into the waiting room, completely drained. She collapsed into a chair and buried her face in her arms. The path she’d chosen… sometime or another, she’d lose someone in her care for the first time; it was unavoidable. Emotion couldn’t get the better of her. But Taylor, Estela… they were her sisters. She’d been a second away from accepting that Taylor was gone and giving up. That kind of decision… it was too fucking much.

“Hey…” Quinn called to her gently, her voice sweet and soothing to Michelle’s ear. She knelt in front of the chair and let her friend cry into her shoulder. “You were amazing in there, Michelle.”

Michelle could only weep. “What the hell were they thinking?”

“They said… they said that Estela’s through the worst now, that she’s gonna be okay. You did that. That was so much put on your shoulders, but you did it.”

“I’m no hero, Quinn,” Michelle hiccoughed. “Fuck, I’m barely keeping it together.”

Quinn stroked Michelle’s dirty blonde hair, which was damp with sweat, and reached up to kiss her cheek. “Honey, you don’t have to. You’re allowed to be a human being.” She exhaled, her breath trembling. “You… you’ve always been a hero. To me.”

Tears came anew, and Michelle buried her face in her friend’s hair. She held Quinn tight, as if she was the only thing that could possibly keep her afloat.

Sometime later, the sobs became whimpers, which faded into shared silence.

“Is it really true? They’re saying we’ve had contact. They’re saying that… it’s like the world was never lost. That’s why Taylor did this… god, she did this for us, Quinn.”

The slight redhead nodded. “I can’t believe it. But… but it looks like… they’re all alive. Everyone we left back home. We’re even getting phone reception, internet, you name it, like there was no storm to begin with. Everyone’s been calling family. It’s real.”

“I just… it doesn’t seem possible.” Michelle was trembling. Exhausted from the fight to save the lives of two of her closest friends, the thought of something so miraculous was jarring to her. She’d grieved for so long, come to accept her new lot in life, built something on La Huerta that she could be proud of… and now once again the world turned on its head.

“I can lend you my phone? Is there someone you want to call?”

Her insides turning to ice, Michelle shook her head. The only true friends she ever had were there on the island. They still needed her. “We need to get a doctor out here, someone who can be discreet. I’ve got them this far, but I… I can’t shoulder this one alone. There’s gotta be a way to get someone to help; between us we can come up with whatever money we need.”

“Should we evacuate them out of here?”

“And take them where? Who knows what they’ll find if they get a closer look at Taylor? She’s not a normal human, if she’s human at all. She’s got no documents to say she belongs anywhere, and I don’t know how the hell we’re supposed to answer those kinds of questions. Even if there wasn’t any of that… Quinn, she’s so fragile. At least here she’s safe. If I make the wrong call and she….” Michelle’s voice broke.

“Hey,” Quinn rubbed her back. “We’ll take care of them right here. Where we can all stay close. I think… I think you’re right. I feel like we all need to be around Taylor. It’s almost like… she has a better chance if we’re all here.”

It should have sounded crazy, but nothing else made sense. Taylor’s being revolved around her friends; she would not survive if she were taken away.

“I’ll talk to Grace and Aleister. They’ll have useful contacts. Friends in high places.”

“Thanks, babe.” Michelle tentatively leaned forward to kiss Quinn’s brow. From somewhere in the back of her mind, she wondered where it all left the two of them. Home was another lifetime ago almost, and in that lifetime, Michelle worked to a plan… a plan that never would have included falling in love with a woman. With the world back as it was, old insecurities swooped in. No. Don’t give in to that bullshit now. “I should get back in there, sit with them.” She took Quinn’s hand in her own. “Would you… would you come with me? I don’t think I’m strong enough to do this alone.”

So much of Quinn’s young life had been spent in hospitals. She’d made friends, kids like her with terminal illnesses. And then, almost without fail, they would be gone, leaving behind nothing but empty beds and a sobering understanding of mortality. Those days, she’d been so sure, were behind her. Quinn squeezed Michelle’s hand and looked into her eyes, willing her to feel every ounce of adoration that she felt for her. Making calls could wait. “I’ve got you, ‘Chelle.”

Quinn placed two chairs between the hospital beds. She sat down, and laced her fingers through Taylor’s, tenderly stroking with her thumb. As Michelle hesitated in the doorway, clearly affected by the trauma of the fight she’d faced when she’d last stood in that room, Quinn offered her other hand, inviting her into a secure embrace. Collecting herself, Michelle sat in the second chair, her fingers entwining with Quinn’s on one hand, while the other gently took hold of Estela’s.

“Deep breath…” Quinn whispered encouragingly.

Michelle squeezed her fingers and exhaled shakily. Deep breath…

[aviationfiction]

XXV

Autumn Dupont 

A hint of the hushed hallway’s lighting filtered into the darkness of the master bedroom as soon as I opened the door to peak inside. As I expected, his lanky frame was still peacefully tangled in the midnight black cotton sateen sheeting. Once I closed the door behind myself, I quietly sauntered over to the California king bed and slithered under the sheets as carefully as I could. Once my head hit the pillow, a hint of chills slowly trickled down my spine as Dante stirred and eventually flipped over to reveal his striking face as a faint glimmer from the full and luminous moon cascaded over it. His bushy brows just about formed into one as his expression contorted into a frown and those very chills conquered my entire frame as I watched him instinctively reach over to return his arm to it’s usual position around my waist. Though I know he does it for affectionate purposes, I also know that he does it to keep me from rolling towards the edge of the bed and curling up there as I’d gotten used to doing since my time in Miami.

“Hey.” His large palm brushed against my abdomen and the warmth from his deep exhale tickled the side of my face as he leaned in for a kiss on my cheek.

“You can’t sleep?” The gruff and grogginess within his already raspy tone ignited an intensity within my core and it trickled down until a flush of moisture seeped into the lace on my lower half and left a dewiness in it’s lining. A faint whimper spilled from my lips and though he’d most likely sum that up to possible frustration about my restlessness, I quietly knew better.

After such a lengthy flight back from London, I knew I’d sleep well once we settled in and made it to bed. I purposefully remained awake the entire eight hour flight, though Dante encouraged me to nap with him. By the time the jet landed at Bluestar, I’d reached the level of exhaustion I was looking for. We were so lagged, we grabbed McDonald's on the way into New York and half of it went into the garbage once we were at his apartment. The desire for sleep also canceled the argument that I assumed we were going to have because it was Glen who drove me into New York because I couldn’t risk the possibility of someone spotting us leaving together though Isaac wasn’t on the premises. We were in bed by eleven and sleeping no later than fifteen minutes after that. I was assured I’d be resting until the sun was at it’s highest peak and yet here I am at three o’clock in the morning wide awake because I’d had yet another lustful fantasy about the man lying next to me. I left the bed for a glass of ice water and basked in every drop of it on the couch. Now that I’ve returned, he’s made that task pointless.

“Not really. You know how I get.” Insomnia wasn’t even at play here, but I’d blame that son of a bitch anyway.

“I see.” His lips pressed into my cheek again as his hand smoothed itself over me once more. It was then that my frame responded with a flinch of thrill and a trace of edginess as his fingers pressed into the tingly skin of my inner thigh.

“I want you.”

Three words. Three words ignited a ferocious heat within my core that viciously flowed through every fiber of my being and left me at his libidinous mercy. He rendered me to speechlessness with his words so I responded by tugging on his pure white t-shirt to draw him closer. It’d been somewhat of a hassle to get it over his head as he repeatedly pecked my lips but I succeeded and my hands were finally able to feel the warmth of his body as I swept them over the smoothness of his back. My heart pummeled against my chest in a wrath unlike ever before and my mouth fell agape as his body hovered over mine and his enchanting chocolate eyes pleaded for permission. I spread my thighs, allowing him to nestle his body in-between them and his hands grasped the matching t-shirt covering me and pulled it up until it slipped over my head and left me in nothing more than the flimsy dampened lace. It was me who drew back the curtain covering the vast window so the moonlight could irradiate the bedroom and allow me to gaze at him in the midst of his peaceful slumber but it was now for him and he took full advantage as he gazed down at my nearly bare physique. Our lips met again and this time it was him who teasingly sucked on my bottom lip as the tips of his fingers wrapped around the straps of the lace and tugged it down until it was lingering around my knees. Once he sat up, it was me who did the remaining work and kicked it away until it landed somewhere on the floor.

I’d never been exposed to such a capacity for any other man but the man I vowed my life to and I intended to be loyal to that for all of my days. I don’t judge or police other women and what they choose to do with their bodies and who they choose to do it with for as long as they’re safe and content but I’ve always not only protected mine but needed to feel just as protected by the man I choose to give it to. I once trusted the man I fell in love with while in college but as we fell apart, so did our intimacy. Unlike him, I didn’t have the willpower to be with anyone else physically until now. Though my insecurities are whispering in subconscious, I’m willing and ready to share myself with him in a manner that goes beyond anything we’ve shared thus far. I trust him. I trust this. I feel safeguarded and want nothing more than to be enough for him as he is already more than enough for me. I want to be beautiful for him as he is already the most beautiful sight for me. I want him to bask in my imperfections and accept my flaws and all as I’ve already done for him. I fear the unforeseeable future and the fate of our time together and yet I marvel in our now and admire my unexpected blessing.

“You’re so beautiful.” As my hand met the back of his neck, I drew him closer for yet another kiss to his supple lips. He didn’t hesitate to slip his tongue into my mouth as his hands familiarized themselves with the parts of me within their reach. When his lips met my neck, I yet again flinched at the feel of his fingers pressing into the flesh of my inner thigh and mentally unraveled as those same fingers delicately brushed against my throbbing and seeping center. Our gasps were nearly identical; mine being louder and he further enticed his own curiosity by dipping his fingers within the slit. My hips arose with my body’s plea for him and yet he abruptly pulled that hand away to leave me whimpering for more.

“Dante…”

As one palm teasingly groped my left breast, his lips wrapped around the stiffened nipple of the right and alleviated the aching I’d been experiencing since I purposefully interrupted that torturous dream. I couldn’t focus on that. No matter how much he tried to lock me in place with his arm, my hips still rolled, settling for the silent taunt of his swelling bulge.  

“Autumn…” His kisses, soft and sweet, trailed away from the spot his tongue finished marking and were now in the middle of my heaving chest.

“Please.” My pleas were transitioning into faint begging as he did his best to continue on with his mission. My impatience overpowered everything. “Dante…”

“Just wait baby. Wait…” The kisses were on my belly, lingering around my belly button and leaving me baffled at yet another rush of my bodily secretions trickling out to meet him. What I hadn’t realized is how much that was tempting his thirst; worsening his hunger. “Let me just..”

The grunt that poured from the lips I’ve become addicted to, ignited a ferocity within our souls that neither one of us could ignore. I could no longer take anything less than the cure my body needed within this moment; a cure only he possesses and knows how to administer. I could no longer wait to be one with him as he takes possession of what’s already been his in my dreams and now needs to be his in my reality. I thought I’d need a drink for this moment, to rid myself of the timidity I’d developed from my past, but I’m already intoxicated off of our passion. I’m ready. I’m yearning.

“Later. After.”

He’d finally joined me in full nudity and though it was my turn for my hands to explore, I could do nothing more but pull him closer to me, meshing our frames together as my outcry for him. Our lips tied together in a longing that could no longer be ignored as he pulled my thighs further apart.

“You promise?” His whisper filtered into my ear as the tip of his flesh began to prod at it’s haven. I’d promise him anything; my being, my all, the world. I’d give him all that I have to give. I’d hand it over without any discrepancies. My God. I’d give it all up.

“I promise.”

The writhing ceased as my lips fell apart. Prickling thrashed through and a shiver followed in reaction to his faint dive. The haziness of my eyes forced them closed as I clutched him close and did my best to receive him. My inhales were met with more of him as the exhales released the dashes of aching. He soothed me with caresses and kisses to my lips, as the angst within my mind left me pondering if I was properly responding to him. The hitches within his breathing and the groans melting my heart superseded the defeatist mindset as he split through me until I was just about filled and quivering to his touch. He didn’t move. Our stillness served as a savor to the moment and a cool down against the blistering warmth radiating between us. My eyes opened to meet his and as he bored into them I felt as beautiful as he’d told me I was just a while ago. As my leg wrapped around his waist, he withdrew from me and delved back into my depths drawing gasps of incredulity. The throbbing and uncontrollable clenching around him served as additional encouragement for his drive. My nails dug until the peaks of his back and soothed the digging with caressing in a pattern that worked for us. He aimed to get me accustomed to him in a purposefully slugged manner that I needed and steadily worked us up to a pace that met what he was in need of as my hips joined in with his rhythm.

“Shit…”

It wasn’t the first word of profanity to spill from his lips as time became obsolete and our worlds collided unlike ever before. With every thrust, there was a response from him that met mine in roars which filled the space surrounding us and played like the most divine sounds. I’d never been so assured in intimacy and its capabilities until now. I’d never experienced it so fair. This is beyond every reverie I’ve had of him and I. It’s beyond the limitations I’d put on my body and what it could do for not only a man but also myself. I don’t feel like a vessel. I revel in being made in his favor; a man who is drawing assurance in life’s journey, himself, and most of all, myself out of me with fervor and the onslaught of joy that he brings to my life. Within these two years I wondered if I’d ever get to such a point again. There were days when I thought I’d have it with the man I vowed myself too once again and there were those days when I considered the possibility of meeting someone else. It felt impossible. I’d written off my capabilities to be compatible with anyone else and silently begrudged those around me who were merrily in love and not afraid to show it. I prayed, but not for a man. I prayed for peace and left it up to God to bring that to me in whatever form he chose. I didn’t expect it to be Dante Elliott St. James. As romantic drama as it sounds I fell into his arms and he’s taken my world by a storm ever since. He’s knocked down every barrier, broke through every wall, and ripped off every bandage covering the wounds that is my heartbreak and encouraged me to heal and accept the scars as they may come. He’s taught me how to have fun again in only a manner that my deceased brother could have done. He’s shown me that there are still beautiful people out there with genuine goodness within their hearts. Now this, a euphoria that no man made words can define.

“Oh my God.”

My shrill pierced the both of our ears as he unexpectedly furthered his depth and locked his lips around a portion of my neck. My toes curled and tension filled the pit of my core as my body reveled in the ecstasy. He chose for everything to be extensive and drawn out; purposefully causing my reactions to be in sync with his and yet far more blaring. His salacious whispers about how good I felt further deepened the delirium of fervor and I utterly lost myself into his alluring world. He’d found spots to made me tick, strokes that made me gasp, and depth that left me with a mixture of shrieks and bawls. I became the soundtrack to his performance, enticing him to continue without giving me a hint of the conclusion, and allowing him to bring me near the brink of life and death. Partial sightlessness left me clinging to him and the rattling of my frame slowed his pace. My chest heaved viciously and every limb I once had control of trembled as the pinnacle of our moment ripped through me with a potency that only he was prepared for. He allowed me to bask in it briefly and left all of me in utter disbelief as he continued with his mission.

“One more.” I couldn’t take it again. I couldn’t possibly do it again.

His gruff moans intensified in unison with his drive and his finger tips dug into my skin in the same manner that mine were in his. Our lips met again and I could barely suppress myself during our kiss. His lips trailed over my face, down onto my neck once again, and returned to my lips. The heat exuding from his skin numbed my finger tips and yet again severe flutters filled me and I trembled to his touch. The thunderous gasp that poured out of him was no competition for the way his name spilled from my lips as we became undone together. The weight of his body pressed against mine as he blissfully collapsed while my legs and arms remained locked around him as my throbbing walls soaked up all he released. He soothed my shudders with kisses and rubbed the sides of my body so the goosebumps would cease. We’d been rendered to speechless.

The sound of his breathing was my lullaby as his lulling warmth coaxed me into the deep slumber that I was aiming for earlier in the night.

The gleaming sunlight beamed down on my bare upper body relentlessly and created an odd mixture of hot and cool over my skin. As my eyes threatened to open up on their own, I instantly regretted opening up that curtain to ogle over my man while he slept. As I shifted, I thought I’d been left alone in bed until his palm brushed over my inner thigh and a kiss was placed on my forehead.

“Good morning.”

“Good morning. Happy Birthday handsome.”

“Thank you.”

Morning breath was no discouragement for either one of us as our lips met. The feel of his tongue against mine served as kryptonite for my fatigued body and my thighs swiftly parted for him to do as he pleased. The teasing of his fingers was soon replaced with the stirring of my body as he filled me. Yet again, we’d lost ourselves into one another as time moved along without us. Though we could hear his iPhone ringing every five minutes or so, those birthday phone calls were nothing to stop us from having our fill of one another. By the time we finally decided to come up for air, he missed more phone calls than he cared to return. At some point during this special day, I’d have to force him to at least text responses to each and every person who called aside from his loved ones and colleagues that he actually appreciates.

“Orange juice or Gatorade?” He took a seat at the head of his dining table and glanced down at the meal he requested: chocolate chip pancakes, turkey sausage, and a vegetable omelet with cheddar cheese melted inside of it.

“Marry me?” Not only did the comment put a smile on my face, but heat flushed through my cheeks as I blushed at the combination of seriousness and playfulness in his tone.

“Shut up.” I placed the Gatorade down on the table and he raised an eyebrow at the choice that I’d already made for him. I would have gone to get the orange juice if he asked but I’m absolutely positive that he doesn’t want it.

“How’d you know I would pick the Gatorade?”

“I know you.”

The soreness in my thighs left me leaning on the table for support and I watched as he dug into the contents on the plate; transitioning from each item one after the other. I then retrieved my own plate from the kitchen and returned to the table. As I expected, he pulled my seat closer to his and I plopped down for the much needed rest my legs were weeping for.

“I’m going to get my hair done for tonight’s festivities and then I have to meet up with Stacey. I was thinking of doing something before that though.”

“Me too baby.” As soon as his hand reached for my thigh, I quickly smacked it away and watched him chuckle. Had I not convinced him to allow me to make breakfast for the both of us, we’d still be tangled in his now sweaty sheets wearing one another out for the rest of the day. That seemed to be all that he wanted to do for his birthday and I certainly wouldn’t have minded if Stacey and I hadn’t planned festivities for his day. She’ll kill me if he doesn’t show up.

“Seriously. There are two things that I want to talk to you about.”

“Like what? Tell me.”

“Well, first, are you okay with meeting Heather and her husband tonight? I invited them to come because she’s been dying to meet you and I’d like for you to meet her.”

“Of course. I’m glad that you invited her. I’d love to meet her. What else?”

“I want you to meet my mother.” I watched his eyes widened and it was then that he took his attention off of the food and turned to look at me.

“Seriously?”

“Yeah. I need to head to the house today to drop off my luggage and I need to grab a couple of things for tonight. I’m going to get ready here because everything’s happening in the city and there’s no point in me leaving from Jersey. So instead of calling Glen to pick me up from here, you can drive me home, and I know my mother’s there so you’ll be able to meet her. Are you okay with that or do you feel like I’m being too abrupt with this?”

“I’m absolutely fine with it. What’s the big deal?”

“You’re not nervous?”

“No.” He stuffed a fork full of pancakes into his mouth with a shrug of his shoulders and I couldn’t help but to chuckle at how cool he reacted to what I thought would be bombs that I dropped on him. Maybe Heather wasn’t that big of a deal, but meeting my mother on his birthday of all days? Hell, it would have left me with bad nerves if I were in his shoes. “I’m looking forward to meeting her. She birthed you, so I already know she’s incredible.”

“Save that buttering up for her sir.” I snickered at his side eye and decided to give the chocolate chip pancakes a go. I’d only had them once and wasn’t that big of a fan but I didn’t have the strength to or the desire to make two separate batters.

“So what’s happening tonight?”

“What’s happening tonight is a good time. That’s all you need to worry about. Stacey and I handled everything down to the attire that will be on your back. You just kick back worry free and allow those who love you to show you a good time. Don’t be difficult either.”

“I don’t plan to. I was just thinking about something though.” He put more pieces of the pancakes into his mouth and I watched in bewilderment as he chewed all four pieces down until he could swallow them. “You want to go home and you want me to meet your mom with your walk looking the way it does?”

“Dante…” My whimper of embarrassment was his comedy and his loud laughter filled his entire condo as I shook my head at somewhat of the truth. My walk is fine…it’s just slower than normal. The pain in my thighs is sure to ease out  at some point. Only God knows when that is.

“Go ahead and laugh at what’s your fault.”

“I’ll take the blame for that, proudly might I add. Best morning ever.” He meant every word of that though there was a smirk on his face and it was clear that he had more to add but his phone saved me from the endless blushing that would have happened from his vulgar mouth. He payed far more attention to his food than to the birthday wishes that were coming in one after another. As he talked, I cleared off the table and properly cleaned the designer dishes. He was still in the same spot when I returned them to their decorative places on the table.

“That was my sister-in-law. She said she’ll see me tonight, which means that I’ll see her husband tonight.” He glanced up at me and I quickly threw my hands up in both Stacey and my own defense. She has been and still is in charge of the guest list. I’m not familiar with his colleagues nor do I personally know his family. I couldn’t and wouldn’t handle that on my own because I didn’t want to be perceived in any type of manner if I did or didn’t invite the right people. Throughout this experience with her, I’ve learned a lot and maybe the next time around I can handle it without much help from her. I’m still not sure I’d purposefully exclude his family members though. That’s a tough spot to be in.

“It’s possible he’ll be there but I promise that no one’s going to ruin your night.”

“You can’t control what he does.”

“Trust me when I say that no one’s going to ruin your night. Do you trust me?”

“Of course I trust you.”

“Alright then. No one’s going to ruin your night.”

I’ll have to pray on that and be prepared to go at heads if anyone dared to try and do so. This is his thirtieth birthday and I convinced him to at least allow us to plan an amazing celebration for him in a deal that I’d run off to whatever part of the world he chose for five to seven days for nothing but relaxation and quality time for the two of us once it was all said and done. This has to be pulled off to perfection because not only did I make a deal but most of all because he deserves nothing less than that. This isn’t just a celebration of his birthday; this is a celebration of him and what he means to everyone in attendance. Though he deserves to be celebrated everyday, we’re going to use tonight to show him just how much we appreciate him on the days when we all may not be showing it or saying it enough.

“Where are you going?” I halted my stride and turned to look at him.

“To take a shower.”

“You made me a promise.”

“Are you kidding me? We have to go. I can’t miss my hair appointment. I was supposed to go two days ago but we extended our stay in London so that you can take me to do the whole touristy thing. I’ll fulfill that promise later.”

“But it’s my birthday.”

“And?” I laughed at the look on his face. I wish he wasn’t as serious as he is.

“So I get everything I want today. I’m cashing in that promise. I want you now.” He pushed his chair away from the table just a bit and picked up the decorative plates. He stacked them on top of another set to the right of him and pointed at the now clear space.

“Just join me in the shower.”

“Oh, I was planning to.” My mouth fell agape at that revelation as the ever present flutters began their attack on my state of being. “I’m just waiting for you to come here.”

The haziness in his eyes and the way he bit into his lip after he made that second statement was what did it. I had every intention on walking towards towards his master bathroom so that I could get in the shower, but the way his enchanting his eyes leered at me defeated my subtle resistance. As he continued to stare, I untied his Versace robe and allowed it to fall off my shoulders and onto the marble floor. Yet again he was ignoring phone calls as I sashayed toward him.

“I don’t think the table is the best idea.” My words went into one ear and straight out of the other as he easily lifted my body up until I was properly seated directly in front of him just as that plate of food I’d put there a little while ago was. “Those plates and bowls are glass. If they fall, they’re going to shatter.”

“They’re replaceable.” He pulled my leg over his shoulder. “This isn’t.”

“Who’s going to clean it up if they shatter?”

“Me.” His face inch forward and the warmth of his breath worsened the moisture that he’d already caused simply by existing. My breathing increased instantly.

“What if you can’t find the exact set of china?”

He was through with listening to and entertaining my questions. His tongue pressed against me and he wasted no time in fulfilling what I’d promised him. The slithering of his tongue and it’s attack on the most sensitive pressure point of my body caused a frenzy of waves to flutter through me and my mind entered a state of delirium as he lapped and sucked while teasingly marking his territory. With every squirm of my hips and screech falling from my lips, he either switched his pace or method to further drive me insane. No matter how many times I felt like I was near the point of completely shattering, he never allowed it to happen. He turned my promise into such an oxymoron; slow and pleasingly agonizing. The shower is where it finally happened; against the blackened wall as the cool water did nothing to simmer us down. Once my legs were no longer wrapped around his waist and my feet were planted on the shower floor, I urged him that we needed to quickly wash off and ready ourselves but that turned into irrelevancy as my back leaned against his chest and my head lazily fell back on his shoulder while he lathered me with soap. His chosen topic of conversation was what he’d done for his previous birthdays and for the majority of them, he spent them with the same two to three people with the exception of one. His mother attempted to throw him a birthday celebration that went completely left once he and his other brother nearly came to blows. What was supposed to be a casual conversation during such an intimate moment sent my mind into overdrive about tonight’s guest list. If God’s on my side, Matthew will not show up and if he does, he’ll be on his best behavior. I’d rather not be an indirect cause of enhanced friction between the two of them.

“Nah. I can’t take it anymore. It’s hot as fuck.” I was the one to ask that we ride with the windows down and though he bared it for a little over twenty minutes of the forty minute ride to my house, I laughed loudly when he rolled up the windows of his Aston Martin and turned on the air conditioning.

“I thought the heat is no big deal to you?” That New York City summer heat is no joke and the ninety five degree weather certainly seemed like a heat wave that refused to let up but I didn't mind it. It was a mixture between the memories of my brother and I and my being half naked in the cut off shorts and crop top I’d chose to wear to keep myself cool. My mate should be not. No one told him to wear grey Nike sweatpants.

“It’s not. I’m not in it. I’m in my car.” I don’t know what hip-hop playlist he had going but a bad song hadn’t played yet. Our heads were nodding in unison to every song with a mixture of our mumbling of the lyrics.

“Ugh. My husband.” Andre 3000’s famous verse on UGK’s “Int’l Players Anthem” blared from his speakers and I snickered when Dante glanced over in my direction with a side eye.

“I’ve wanted to marry him since…forever. Ask Heather when you meet her tonight.”

“Erykah Badu’s going to kick your ass too.”

“For what? She’s had two other baby daddies since him. Their son Seven is grown as hell. They haven’t been together in a decade and then some. He’s for the taking.”

“But you’re not. Sorry Andre.” I brushed my hand over his and he laced our fingers together while concentrating on switching into the lane to the right of us.

“Who is your celebrity crush? Oh wait, never mind. Nia Long.”

“Pam Grier, Sade, annoying voice aside, I thought Jasmine Guy was cute. Halle. Nineties Naomi and Tyra.” I was waiting for him to name a couple of the younger and more current famous women but much like myself, he has a liking for the older generation. All of those women are beauty icons as far as I’m concerned and they paved the way for those who are dominating now. I could appreciate those crushes.

“All great choices. I’m impressed.”

“Andre’s your only one?”

“Yeah. It gets no sexier than that…until I met you suga.”

“Yeah 'ight.” During our laughter, I stared over at his side profile and instinctively, I pulled my lip in-between my teeth. I surprisingly mean that. There’s something about his aura that draws me in instantly and keeps me captivated during every moment we’re within one another presence and lingers on my mind during those moments when we’re not. I admire him and am certainly inspired by him in all that he does. I marvel in the moments of affection and bask in the ones when I’m learning something new from his cultured and intelligent mind. His voice leaves me speechless; his touch leaves me breathless. Though he jokes about certain physical flaws that he claims to have, I don’t see them as such. They’re enhancements of what I view as the unique man that he is. He’s not your catalog beauty and yet I’d put him on every page if I owned one. His confident and secure masculinity further enhances his handsomeness and the way it exudes from him no matter what he’s doing is sure to leave any woman he encounters staring and silently vying for a chance to bed him. He’s that damn sexy.

“Are you nervous yet?”

“There’s only one person nervous in this car and it’s not me.”

“I’m not nervous. I believe she’ll like you and I’m sure she’ll appreciate me doing this the proper way. The thing is, I’ve never done this before. I’ve never introduced a guy to my mom.”

“There’s a first time for everything. Besides that, it’s just an introduction.”

“True. It’s not like I’m introducing my husband to her.”

“Oh. I thought that’s what you were going to call me.”

“You’re so aggravating. I swear.” He never fails to make me laugh. Even in our most serious conversations, he still finds a moment to throw something comedic in there just to lighten the moment.

“We’re going to be fine, even if she doesn’t love me. I hope she does though. I’d hate to have your mother wanting to put her foot up my ass every time we see one another. That sounds like a brutal life.”

“She’ll love you but her loving you won’t stop her from putting her foot up your ass when necessary.” A scolding from my mother is one that people should avoid at all costs. She’s never put her hands on my siblings nor myself because her words cut deep enough to leave you in tears and feeling like whatever nonsensical decision you made was by far the most idiotic thing you could’ve ever done. My father simply gave us a look. I don’t know about the argumentative Issac and the rebel Shane, but that look was more than enough to get me in line. Actually, no, the both of them have those vicious looks that will straighten a person out.

“I’ll take that. Everyone needs a reality check from an elder every now and then.”

Traffic was a lot more clear than I needed it to be. We were off of the New Jersey highway and pulling into the driveway of my parents’ landscaped grated property within fifteen minutes. My eyes panned over the brick colonial estate and then followed my lovers every move as he exited the car, retrieved my luggage from the trunk, and then opened up the passenger side door for me.

“You’re not going to try to run off are you?” He held out his hand to aid me in my exiting of his vehicle and I slapped it in response to his statement and then allowed him to just about pull me out of the car. As we approached the door, I rummaged through my purse for the keys and turned to look at him.

“Ready?”

“Yep.” His lack of apprehension suddenly morphed into comedic relief for me as I opened up the door and a gasp spilled out of my mouth as his large palm smacked into my backside.

“Ma!” As we stood in the foyer, I called for her already knowing that she was somewhere within her home either being leisurely or immersed into some task of fixing it up. I could smell the scent of her favorite Coco Mademoiselle fragrance and it sweetly meshed in with what I know for a fact is her famous homemade carrot cake that my father and brother loves so much. While it’s incredible, I’m more of a chocolate kind of a girl, which is why she typically bakes two cakes just to satisfy my taste buds. Don’t get me started on the red velvet cheesecake cupcakes that she bakes whenever PMS is terrorizing my life. If she didn’t know the schedule of my cycle, I’d lie and tell her Ms. Bitch is on her way so she’d bake them for me today.

“Kitchen. Stop yelling.”

I instructed Dante to leave my suitcase off to the side and we walked along the halls that are not only familiar to me but to him as well. His playful statement about me running off returned to my mind and suddenly it didn’t sound like such a bad idea as we neared the kitchen. He was just about in front of me with no concerned hindering his stride and he appeared before her eyes before myself. As her perfectly arched eyebrows flew up, I had the urge to combust into a pillar of salt. She’d already assessed the situation and I hadn’t even opened my mouth yet.

“Hey.” It was the best I could do. I usually am a bit more formal with her, but the one word greeting was far better than the silence I considered.

“Hello.” Her brows hadn’t relaxed. As Dante and I watched, she removed her apron to reveal what I know is a Roland Mouret dress. It’s royal blue silhouette clung to her curves flawlessly and enhanced every bit of sophistication that she endlessly serves. My mother is incredible. I’m forever in awe of her.

“Mom, this is…” She swiftly cut me off.

“Dante St. James.”

“Right and he’s…” Yet again, she cut me off.

“Your boyfriend.” It was Dante’s turn to raise his eyebrows and he glanced over at me with a smirk on his face. I didn’t have an explanation to give him. This is just who she is; the second all knowing after God himself.

“I don’t know why you’re so speechless. What do you think I’m stupid? I could sit here and map out all the reasons why I’ve already known this but we’d be here for a while and you'd probably be embarrassed, so I’ll give you one. Miami. The flowers and that terrible lie you told me gave it all away. Don’t lie to me again, by the way.” As she walked around the island, she stopped to hang up her apron and I listened to the sound of her five inch Jimmy Cho pumps clashing against the floor as she approached the man she’s already known about for quite some time.

“Hello Dante. I’m Lillian Dupont. I don't mind you calling me Lillian. It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’ve been waiting.”  

“Hello. I’m Dante, though you already know that. It’s a pleasure to meet you as well.” They shook hands and as the thin layer of ice melted between them I suddenly felt like a block of ice once she revealed she’d been waiting to meet him. I’m not sure if I’m handling this the right way or if I’ve gone about this incorrectly.

“It’s nice to see you home too, my child. How was London?” I wasn’t quite sure how to handle that question or how much to reveal. Should she know that we were cohabitants while there?

“London was amazing. I love it there. Dante’s from London.”

“Are you?” Her lively eyes panned back to him and he quickly nodded his head.

“I was born there. I spent three years of my life there. I spent ten years of my life in New York. I went back to London for high school and came back to New York for college. My mother was born and raised there.”

“London is lovely. I’ve been a number of times and even taught an accelerated course in women’s studies at Oxford for three weeks. You come from a good place. Do you prefer it here or there?”

“That’s hard to say. I love it there, but my life is here.”

“Where did you go to school in London?”

“Boarding school. The Westminster School.”

“That’s a great school. And for college?”

“Columbia.”

“Impressive.” Her nod and smile eased his shoulders and I felt like the odd outsider watching the two of them interact with one another.

“Thank you.”

“And now you hold two titles as the chief executive officer and the chief operating officer of one of the most successful marketing, public relations, and entertainment firms in the world.” She researched him. Oh my God. Of course she did. She's Lillian Dupont. She’s more of a detective than her husband is. If she thought she spared me from embarrassment earlier, she lied.

“Yeah. I co-own it with my father and older brother. Rick Malone’s a partner.”

“You are certainly impressive on paper. I always applaud success and I can’t help but to cheer even louder when it’s one of our own. I’m delighted for you Dante. Well done.”

“Thank you. Based upon what Autumn has told me about you, you lead an incredible life. A wife, mother, prestigious professor, chairwoman, and an activist. You’re incredible.”

That was my cue. I didn’t bother to announce that I’d be leaving the two of them alone, I just did it. I didn’t mind them fawning over each other’s accomplishments because what they’ve done with their lives certainly deserves a round of applause and praise but I felt like the elephant in the room while they did it. I was the ant among giants. Though neither one of them antagonizes me with my lack of career success like Isaac does, I do wonder how they internally feel, especially my mother. Though she won’t say it, I’ve failed her in multiple ways and I’m not quite sure of how to repair those damages. I’m trying but that doesn’t count for much.

“Now where the hell are those shoes?”

At some point I’m going to have to figure out when I’m going to put the majority of all that had been shipped to me from Miami into storage. The closet I have upstairs cannot hold even half of the contents stacked up in my parents’ basement and I’d hate to continue to inconvenience my father and the space of his man cave with all of my shit. I didn’t even know Andreas was going to have it packed up and sent to me. I figured since I walked away without anything, he’d have all of it shipped off to some charity organization or to the Salvation Army for them to do as they pleased with it. I wouldn’t admit it before, but I’m glad that it was sent to me. Though I work and do have a decent salary, I cannot afford to constantly keep buying clothing to rebuild my wardrobe. I damn sure cannot afford to frivolously spend on the high end name brands packed away in these boxes. Most of it is unworn anyway. Though it may be dated in terms of the calendar year in the fashion world, it’s still new attire for me to play in. I have my ways in making it all look anew.

It took me fifteen minutes but I’d finally found the Louboutin pumps I so badly needed to pair with my dress for tonight’s festivities and I took them and my suitcase to my bedroom. Upon my entry, I found my bed covered with the necessities my mother picks up for me monthly: body wash, deodorant, lotion, hair care products, tampons, and skin care. There’s a Victoria’s Secret bag that I’m sure contains a couple of bras and panties. On the floor next to the bed, there’s a Zara bag and along side it three Nordstrom bags. I huffed at sight. I’m not ungrateful. There’s never not a time when I don't appreciate all that she does for me, but I think she’s lost track of the boundary between being my mother and allowing me to be an adult. I feel no older than sixteen when I’m around her and I have this odd feeling that she’d like to keep it that way in some aspects.

“The Zara bag is tops. I know you adore their tops. In one of the Nordstrom bags is a couple of pairs of FRAME jeans. They’re your favorites. I also couldn’t help but to grab these cute pair of Aquazzura sandals I saw. I knew they’d be fabulous on you.” Her tranquil voice fill my ears and I turned to glance at her as I placed the box of shoes down on the bed.

“Thanks mom.” A smile graced her face as she leaned against the door frame. “Where’s Dante?”

“Downstairs having cake and milk. I cut him a piece in celebration of his birthday. I hear that you and his personal assistant have a special night planned for him.”

“Yeah, we put together some birthday plans for him tonight because he’s not much of a celebration kind of a guy. He deserves it though.”

“That’s not surprising to hear from you. You love so hard and is willing to do any and everything to make those that you love happy. You get that from your grandmother. Every morning when I wake up and every night when I go to bed I pray that all those who you allow into your life genuinely loves you and are as dedicated to you as you certainly will be to them. He speaks highly of you and he’s protective when he speaks. He loves you.”

“Did he tell you that or are you just assuming?” My head dropped towards my right shoulder and I stared at her with my all too familiar sarcastic expression. I’ve been doing that since I was a kid and I know for a fact that I learned it from my aunt Larissa.

“No, he didn't tell me that but you know that I don’t make assumptions. I like him and I’m very proud of you for introducing him to me in a proper manner. That’s all I’ve wanted. I cannot police who you date and I don’t want to. Despite what you may think, I know that you are capable of handling yourself and most of all, I’ve been wanting you to move on with your life in every single way possible. I knew you’d date again when you were ready. Though I’ll be getting to know him over time, thus far, I can say that you’ve made a very nice choice in a man.”

“Well, I can slightly breathe now knowing that you like him because if you do, then dad will as well. It’s Isaac that I’m concerned about.”

“I don’t think you should be concerned. Isaac wants to be a tough ass, but he cannot control who you date. He’ll claim it’s a conflict of interest but it isn’t as far as I’m concerned and if he gives you hell, I will step in. Don’t worry about him.”

“Sounds easier said than done.”

“As I said, don’t worry about him. I’m not going to allow him to ruin that glow you have.”

“Glow?” I snickered at that while retrieving my Harry Winston diamond studs out of my jewelry box. They were a gift from Shane when I graduated from high school and I typically only wear them during special occasions and tonight is that.

“Oh yeah. It’s there. You look like you drowned in your favorite highlighter.”

“Mom, please.”

“What did you get him for his birthday?”

“A watch and cuff links. He’s always in business attire so both will be useful to him. Oh and I got him a couple of Basquiat books for his coffee tables at home and in his office. He loves art and that happens to be his favorite artist.”

“Very nice and what did you plan for tonight?”

“He and two of his friends own a restaurant in Manhattan. This evening, it’s shut down just for his birthday festivities and there’s a nightclub under the restaurant which they own as well. We’re doing an after party there. We’re keeping it in house because that’s his personality. He’ll be a lot more comfortable that way.”

“You love so hard.”

“Mom.” If she continued say it, she’d pull it out of my mouth and I’m not ready to talk about those feelings just yet because I’m still coming to terms with them internally. I already had my fears about giving my body to him because I already know what that level of intimacy does to me and now that I’ve done so, I’m trying to cling to those three little worlds as the last bit of restraint I have left.

“Are you staying in the city again tonight?”

“Probably so. It’ll be really late when everything is over.”

“You know you have two sessions with Dr. Jill this week and you also have a doctors appointment. Will you be home or should I just meet you at the doctors?”

“I’m coming home tomorrow morning. It’s not like I live with him. We’re just celebrating his birthday tonight. That’s all. So I’ll be here. I might even work at the office tomorrow depending upon how I feel. So you won’t have to track me down or anything like that. I’ll be around. Maybe we can have a girls day this week. My treat. We’ll get manicures and pedicures; lunch after or maybe an early dinner and a movie.”

“I’d love that.” Just as I expected, she wrapped her arms around me and planted a kiss on my cheek. “And speaking of birthdays, yours is coming soon. My fall baby. Your dad and I are thinking about getting you a car. Isaac mentioned something about an apartment.”

“No and no.” My answer was swift and firm. Absolutely not. Isaac felt like giving me a job was a handout, so I’d be damned if I let him put a roof over my head. He’d throw that in my face every single chance he got and with his name on my lease, he’d have the power to threaten to have me evicted. My parents do enough for me. They’ve given me a place to rest my head without having to cough up a single payment for it. They’ve put food in my mouth, clothes on my back, were by my side during my hospital stay, and took leaves of absence from work to care for me while I was sick and shut in. I am back on my feet because of them and if anything, it should be me gifting them for all that they’ve done. There’s no need to buy me a car. I’m making enough at Blue Star and Meridian to buy some sort of a car and I will soon enough.

“You’re so stubborn.”

“No, I’m just appreciative of all you’ve done thus far and am satisfied with that. I don’t need a car. I don't want anything for my birthday other than cupcakes. Bake those for me and I’ll be satisfied.”

“Cupcakes?” Her eyes rolled at the simplistic request and I nodded.

“I have a hair appointment and I have to meet Stacey right after that. Oh, and Heather’s in town. She’ll probably drop by tomorrow since I’ll be home.”

“Mario’s with her?”

“Yeah. They’re coming to the dinner and party tonight. I invited her so she could meet him.”

“Heather too? Oh this is really serious huh?”

“And on that note, I have to go.” Our laughter filled my pure toned bedroom and I shook my head at the smirk on her face. “I’ll see you tomorrow. I’ll send you a couple of photos from the party.”

“Good. I hate having to look at pictures on that Instagram page of yours. I feel like a stalker when I do that.”

“Stop going on my Instagram page.” I planted a kiss on her cheek. “Love you.”

“I love you more.”

I returned to the kitchen to find Dante taking photos of photos inside of an old family photo album my mother allowed him to look through as entertainment while she went to check on me. He’d gotten at least six different photos of my awkward teen years and my horrible sense of style as blackmail and something to tease me about when he felt like it. Had I not protested it, she was going to allow him to take the album home to continue to glance through it. Before our departure, she cut him two more slices of cake and made him promise to join us for either a Saturday breakfast or a Sunday dinner sometime soon so he could become acquainted with the rest of the family just as he’d done with her. They were talking to one another every step of the way as we walked towards the door, laughing once we were outside, and still talking to one another once I got into the car on the passenger side. I waited an additional five minutes for him to fill the seat on the opposite side of me.

“Your mother is awesome.”

“Yes she is.”

“And she likes me which makes it even better.” “I told you she would.”

“I’m glad. Imagine if she didn't like me and then she had to look at our kids who will look just like me?” I roared in laughter at not only his statement but the possibility of that. She’d love her grandchildren despite the significant other who they were created with, but I’d never hear the end of it if I dared to have a child by a man she deems to be a piece of crap. Her snide remarks and death glares would happen well into my children’s adult years and beyond that. She’d be old, grey, and shriveled up and still scolding me for it. As much as Andreas claims to be glad that we didn’t have any children together, today, I’m just as glad.

“Look just like you huh?”

“Possibly. Hopefully they’re a mixture of the both of us.”

“How many kids are we talking here?”

“Three.”

“That’s a legit number? Three kids?”

“Yeah. Three. Too many? Too little?”

“I’ve always said I want two kids and I’d leave the door open for a third if it should happen.”

“Then we’re all set.”

“It was just a hypothetical.”

“I don’t do hypothetical thinking much. Just reality baby.”

As his hand squeezed mine, I could do nothing more than believe what he said. He’s made everything else in his life happen thus far, so I doubt his success rate is suddenly going to falter. His work ethic certainly hasn’t.

“Give me five more minutes. I’m coming.”

I can’t believe I’m the cause of us running a bit late. The process of getting my hair done in Brooklyn, meeting Stacey in Manhattan at the restaurant to view the decorations and the layout of all we’d planned, and getting back to Dante’s apartment set me back at least an hour. By the time I arrived, he was half dressed and lounging on his couch while watching ESPN and eating one of the pieces of cake my mother sent him off with. Him being out of my way while I took over his bathroom didn’t do much to speed up the lengthy process in getting myself together and now as I stand here nearly done with my make up, I’m growing more impatient than he is.

“I’m not rushing you, but Stacey will be soon.”

“I’m coming. I just have to put on my lipstick.” I finished lining my lips with favorite liner for a nude lip and used a taupe brown liquid matte lipstick from MAC in the middle section of my lips. The last step was to put a coat of gloss over it for a much needed shimmer.

“Alright. Lets get this show on the road.” I opened the door to reveal my look for the evening and nearly missed as Dante’s eyes widened when I turned to clasp my clutch bag. I’d chosen one of Julien MacDonald’s super-spangly confections for this evening. It’s silhouette exposed far more of my skin than it covered and it allowed me to flirtatiously tread on such a thin line between sexy and overtly risqué. The fringe was the pinch of playfulness it needed. It was the one item I picked up while out shopping in London that I hadn’t told him about because I wanted the reaction that I’m getting from him at this very moment.

“Holy shit. I’d rather stay home.”

“Nope.” His eyes never left my frame as I spun around in what is now one of my favorite little black dresses I’ve ever owned and he groaned in lust without regard.

“Peaches, stop playing. That’s really what you’re wearing?” I didn’t bother answering his question as I walked around him. His fingers grazed my skin as I did so and he purposefully trailed directly behind me as I headed towards his guest room. “You look fucking incredible. I’m feeling ten different things right now.”

“I want to give you your gifts now so you can wear both.” I did my best to ignore his lustful glare as I retrieved both Cartier boxes out of the drawer of the guest nightstand. I held them out in his direction before his hands began their groping of areas that would trigger me. “I hid them in here because you don’t even think about this room let alone come inside of it. I knew it’d be the last place that you’d look though I’m sure you weren’t looking for them in the first place.”

“You’re right. I would have never looked in here. Cartier though?” He grabbed both boxes and plopped down on the bed so he could properly examine each. The first box he opened was the watch. I’d chosen one from the Ballon Bleu collection because it was the perfect mesh of casual for everyday wear and elegance for a formal night. The deep blue winding mechanism was what attracted my attention and I had to have it for him.

“I love this baby. This is literally my style of watch; nothing too flashy. I love this a lot. Thank you.” He leaned his head up for a kiss and I granted it to him. I then had the honors of clasping the watch around his wrist and securing it on his arm.

“Cuff links too?” They’re sterling silver and obsidian. A perfect match to the watch. No matter what he wears them with, they’ll always be a perfect pair. “What’s crazy is I don’t even own many pairs of these. I have two pair and you’ve just made these the third and they’re better than the others.”

“Are you just saying that?” He held out his arms for me to put them on the cuffs of his sleeves.

“No. I’ll let you see them. They’re just not something that I think to purchase.” Both gifts along with Heather’s bracelet were items I purchased within the same day and I did so with that “rainy day fund” I kept untouched for the most part. That fund is money Andreas would give me and I’d put it into an account for emergencies and simply because I had no need in spending it. It continued to build up over the years we were together and now I have it. There’s enough in there to cover at least a year of school; maybe even two.

“Well, I’m glad you’re happy with the gifts.”

“I’m happy period. Best birthday ever.” Our lips meshed once more and my fingers trailed over the smoothness of his skin.

“No exaggeration?”

“None whatsoever.”

The sound of his phone ringing was our cue to rush out of his apartment and down to Marvin who’d been waiting for us. His route to Baraya involved a lot of side streets to avoid the evening traffic and it only left us thirty minutes behind the initial start time Stacey and I put on the invitations she e-mailed to everyone. Upon our entry to the restaurant, he was left baffled because we’d done just about all we could to flip the decor into his darkened and sleek taste. The waiters and waitresses were suddenly morphed into suited servers, who were handing out glasses of champagne and wine upon entry while directing attendees to their proper seat. The Cuban cigar rollers nearly knocked his socks off. They were a gift from Mike. I don’t know how Stacey pulled it off, but there was a Hennessy serving station and she’d even gotten him a bottle signed by Nas, who also happens to be one of his all time favorite rappers. Fredrick’s gift? Belly dancers. As the drinks flowed endlessly, it seemed to become a thing to learn from and impersonate the belly dancers than to watch them.

Dante’s introduction to Heather was the lighthearted embarrassment that I was spared from earlier at home. Not only did she playfully fawn over the man but she swooned over us for more minutes than I could tolerate. Camille did it as well, but it was a lot more tolerable. The lack of her husband’s presence was my blessing.

“You know, with every move you make, his eyes literally follow you. I’ve been watching him. You two are synced.” The smell of vodka slithered into my nose as I listened to Heather nearly shout into my ear so I’d be able to hear her over the music blaring throughout the club. It was yet another observation she made in the midst of her tipsiness. Stacey and I were the only ones keep it minimal with the alcohol; she because of breastfeeding and myself because of medication.

“Shut up.” Dante wasn’t too far away with a glass of Hennessy in his hand and laughter pouring out of him as he spoke with an old friend of his. He introduced him to me and explained that Jonathan used to work for A&M some years back. He was not only shocked to see him but quite flattered by his attendance.

“Where’s Rachel?” I invited her but she’d gone out of town for a Disney World getaway with her daughter. We made promises to catch up once she returned.

“Disney World.”

“Oh and by the way, I know the dust is gone. Between his hand resting on your ass multiple times throughout the night and him not thinking I noticed when his hand slithered up your dress under the table upstairs, I know for a fact they’re gone. Tell me I’m lying.” I couldn’t even look at her as I laughed. “Tell me I’m lying.”

“We’ll talk about it later. I promise.” I couldn’t relive it at the moment, not with the bit of alcohol in my system. Rather than talking to her about it, I’d be pleading with the birthday boy to take me into the office for another round.

“I knew it! I don’t want to wait until later.”

“Tomorrow. We’ll do lunch. I’ll give you every filthy detail you desire.”

“All of it?”

“Umhm.” My wink sealed the deal and her smirk signified her satisfaction.

Though I was waiting to hit the dance floor with Dante, it was Fredrick who pulled me out there to join him in what he described as the best two step anyone could ever showcase. DJ Clue’s nineties set was the perfect soundtrack to not only the party but also the era in which most of us grew up in. It drew everyone to the dance floor, even the corporate figure heads that I quietly deemed to be too snooty to do so.

“Thank you for tonight.” I’m sure we looked like idiots damn near slow dancing to Ice Cube’s “It Was A Good Day” and yet it didn’t stop us from doing so.

“No need to thank me. I’m glad you enjoyed your day.”

“It was certainly special; a kind of special that I’ll never forget.” I swept my lips over his and he took it as an invitation to deepen our kiss. If I could, I’d make all of the days we spend together just as special as this one.

“Aye, come up for air. They want you outside man.” Mike’s shouting marked the end of our moment and Dante glared at him in confusion. Though his body left my arms, he gripped my hand to take me along for whatever was outdoors awaiting him. Tension filled his body as we ascended up the stairs to be ground level and though I had no idea what was on the other side of that door, he seemed to be well aware.

As we stepped out on the West 15th Street New York City sidewalk, my eyes widened at the sight in the middle of the street. The sweeping silhouette of the grandeur sports vehicle and the bright red bow on it’s hood left me in awe. As Stacey and Mike joined us, Dante was the only one between the four of us who hadn’t shown a sign of joy. A tall and domineering brown skinned man exited the scissoring door on the passenger side and the younger version of him who I know as Matthew St. James slithered out of the drivers side.

“Happy Birthday little brother.” Dante didn’t have a response. He stared at the two men like they were strangers randomly intruding on his celebration and he didn’t budge. His only move was to slightly step in front of me. He became my shield from their gaze.

“Thank you.”

“I saw this BMW i8 some weeks back while car shopping with your mother and we both agreed that it’d be the perfect birthday gift for our boy. Happy birthday son.” Rather than opening up his arms to give the child he created a warm hug, he held out the keys for him with a complacent smirk on his face.

“Thank you.” He reached for the keys and I locked eyes with the man who has identical eyes to the ones that I’m so enamored by. The only difference is they lack genuine nature and love within them. Richard’s are frigid; nearly dead.

“Lets have scotch inside. I’d like to see this place that you and your buddies put together. Take your gift for a spin and park it.”

“I’m going with you. My guy, do you see that shit?” Mike didn’t bother to wait for a response as he dashed to the street and slid in on the passenger side. His hands began to touch just about everything as soon as he was secured in the seat.

“You’re a big ass kid!” Stacey shouted at Mike with a shake of her head. Dante’s lack of enthusiasm was disregarded by the gift bearers and yet it rubbed off on me as Richard walked around the small crowd of us and entered the door to the nightclub. The lack of acknowledgement for both the St. James men by Stacey and Mike alarmed me to the point of my nerves leaving their calm state.

“I’ll wait for you. Go ahead and park it somewhere. I’ll wait out here until you come back.” My hand caressed his back and he huffed at the directions. He seemed to want to dump it somewhere.

“Where the fuck am I even supposed to park it…”

That response was more so to himself because he didn’t bother to look at me. My hand fell to my side as he walked towards the drivers side and his agitated frame smoothly glided into the BMW and he pulled the door down to a close.

“That kid is one ungrateful fuck.” Had a cop witnessed the way the car zipped down the street, a ticket would have been the least of Dante’s worries. I’d be posting bail at some district police station tonight.

“Shut the fuck up Matt.” Stacey frowned and the scoff of disdain she exuded ceased his words as she too walked away from the negative atmosphere. She left me there in the presence of Dante’s polar opposite and his eyes hadn’t stopped burning a hole into my back as he stared.

“Does your brother know you’re fucking my brother?”

My throat tightened in unison with my chest. He closed the space between our bodies to the point of his potent cologne filling my nose and worsening my state.

“Stacey has a big mouth. I overheard her talking about you and I ended up putting two and two together. Dante’s usually a bit more…random with his selections in women. Though it’s rare to see him with one, it’s usually not someone who can easily be within reach of him. I get why he chose you to toy with though. You may be the hottest thing working over there in Teterboro, but it’s really because you’re pussy of convenience. You’re a flight attendant; his personal one. You go where he goes. It makes sense. I’ve done it.”

“You don’t know shit about me.”

“What I do know is you’re an ex-wife of a NBA coach. He divorced you. Don’t know why but I’m sure it was with good reason. You thought you’d be honorable by leaving with what you came with; nothing. That’s hilarious to me and many others I’m sure. Just know that you’re not going to come up off of the St. James name. My brother’s not about to trick on you in replacement for what the NBA guy didn’t have to spend. Know that your temporary. Dante isn’t committed to shit but business, so when he walks away, make sure you continue that honorable example you think you’ve set.”

Our bodies nearly meshed as his lips came within inches of my ear.

“And then, it’ll be my turn.” My body froze as the tips of his fingers slowly trailed up the back of my thigh and his chuckle tormented my mind as he disappeared behind the golden door.