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mymelodyheart · 4 years ago

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Miles Between Us Chapter 12 ~Obstacle Course ~

Previously in Suspicious Minds ...

Caught up in the awkwardness of the moment, Claire bit her bottom lip. "Well, I guess that's settled then. We best get going before Mary does something like bite some poor soul's head at the airport." Claire's attempt to sound cheerful lessened the tension in the air but not the one on Jamie's shoulders. She turned to him and tried to take her bags off his hands, but he couldn't seem to let go. "Jamie ...my bags," she whispered, her hand running up and down his forearm as if to tell him everything was going to be alright.

But instead of giving Claire's bags back to her, he begrudgingly handed them to Christie. They had a few seconds of stare off until Claire's hands on his face forced him to look at her.

"Jamie, kiss me, goodbye?"

He didn't hesitate at her request and sucked on her bottom lip as she made a sobbing noise. That wee noise she made jolted something free inside of him, and he, too, wanted to cry. He couldn't remember wanting to openly cry before. Not like this. He couldn't control it, stealing oxygen from his lungs, but Claire's touches soothed him.

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"The monster is only scary while it is in the closet.

Once in the light,

you can see its many flaws

and weaknesses.

And often,

we end up laughing,

at what we shield our eyes from

no more."

-Tom Althouse

Meticulously scanning the busy vicinity, Claire stopped in the middle of the airport's arrival area and whirled on the spot, impatiently tapping her phone against her thigh. Come on, Hawkins, where the bloody hell are you? Though she and Tom were painfully late, she didn't want to blame their tardiness on Jamie, so instead, she held the gridlock on the motorway and the rain responsible. And whyever not? If it hadn't been for Mary coming to Inverness unannounced, she would be with Jamie right now, making up for lost time and talking about his therapy from this morning. Why in heaven's name had the responsibility of Mary landed on her shoulder of all days? She sighed. It must be another perk of being John Grey's ultra-reliable and never-can-say-no star employee, she reminded herself with an inward groan.

On the way to the airport, Claire had been quiet throughout the drive and was grateful to Tom for not prodding about what happened. To her relief, he'd just given her an understanding smile and drove. Thinking of Jamie's tortured face when he'd arrived at the cottage, it had taken a lot of willpower on her part to get into the car and leave him by the roadside looking after her with a forlorn expression. His words had played on repeat until she had to do a mental scold to remind herself she had work to do and assured herself she'd see him soon enough. She'd wanted him to be alright before she left to ensure him she hadn't changed her mind about them. Though she'd hurt not hearing from him after he'd disappeared, she knew his actions had been done in consideration of her, and that notion prevented her anger from taking over. Her feeling of abandonment over what he'd done was also tempered with her annoyance at Jenny. Jamie's sister's meddling was just so wrong on all sorts of level. In the middle of Jamie leaving her, Willie checking to make sure she was alright, and Jenny coming this morning, she'd gone back and forth between a place of strength and feeling like a lamb in the eye of a hurricane. But now, as she attempted to find the anger, the rage she'd felt after discovering the newspaper clipping about her house in Jenny's possession and the interference with Jamie's love life, she couldn't find it anymore.

Sensing Tom approaching, she recentred herself and smiled in his direction. "There you are.".

"Any luck?" he asked, coming to stand next to her and looking around.

"Nope," she replied, pressing her fingers to her forehead and massaging a sudden ache as she was reminded of the reason why they were there. "How did you get a parking space so quick?"

"I have my ways." When she arched an eyebrow, he grinned at her. "I have a disabled parking permit."

Claire stopped and glared at him. "Tom!"

He ignored her disapproving expression and shrugged. "So, who are we looking for?"

She shook her head and looked around for Mary once more. It shouldn't be this difficult to spot her because she usually stood out. "An overdressed, attractive petite brunette with loads of attitude," she replied, absentmindedly. "And probably with a trolley full of luggage."

More people walked past them making their search more difficult. She was about to make another phone call to Mary when Tom whistled under his breath. "Weel, weel," he murmured, his gaze ticking past her shoulder and turning thoughtful. "I wonder if the lass walking towards us is yer Hawkins." His lips twisted into a smile. "She looks mighty pissed."

"Wot?" She spun around and drew her brows together as she saw a familiar figure approaching them. What the hell? Is that Mary? It could only be her. The woman struggling with an oversized suitcase on wheels stood out like a mini bolt of lightning in her designer four-inch heels, pristine, skinny white jeans and black fur-lined down jacket. But there was something different about the way Mary looked, and it took a few seconds before Claire realised she had done something to her hair. She nearly gasped out loud. But as soon as Mary made eye contact, Claire immediately braced herself for some telling off for being late. Mary stopped, her mouth opening and closing as if she couldn't find the words to voice her displeasure. Claire schooled her features and met her leaden glare without flinching. "Mary? I hardly recognised you."

Mary's brown eyes prettily widened, and her expression softened as some kind of realisation dawned on her. "Oh! Of course ...you couldn't have." A sound of delight puffed out of her. "I had my hair done in Paris. Now we have the same curls. If only I was as tall as you, we'll probably be mistaken as sisters." She missed Claire's intake of breath as she ran her delicate fingers through her locks. "Do you like it?"

No, I don't! What have you done to your beautiful hair? You look like a poodle! Claire swallowed hard, tilted her head to her side, and contemplated the best way to tell Mary the truth. But she didn't have the heart to say it. Instead, she opted for something closer to the truth. "Well, for starters, it looks unusual. I'm so used to seeing your beautiful straight hair. I guess it will take time getting used to," she admitted. But when a slight frown drifted across Mary's face, Claire felt bad. Taking a deep breath, she laughed nervously as she fluffed her own hair. "Look at these ...after all these years, I'm still not used to mine, and I have a bit of hate relationship with it, especially when it gets humid or when I looked at the mirror first thing in the morning. So bear with me if I'm not much into curls."

It took Mary a long time to respond. "Oh, well," she replied with a subdued smile. "You should have seen John's face when he first saw my hair. He looked shocked." She shrugged. "But in the end, he did say it was beginning to grow on him. I guess everyone's used to my limp, lifeless hair."

Ah, bless John. Claire knew his expression wouldn't have been able to hide what was on his mind, and it wouldn't have bode well for him if Mary had been able to read his face. Mary was their star author whose new book could likely save his publishing company from potential financial ruin, and anyone pointing out her disastrous new hairstyle would probably only result in tantrums and more delays in publication. She sighed. "It wasn't limp, Mary. You had beautiful, straight hair. You have no idea what I would give to have manageable straight hair like what you had." And that was the truth.

Mary perked up a bit and rolled her eyes. "Oh, God, don't make me like you even more."

They shared a slow smile, and Claire was about to make a different compliment that didn't include Mary's hair when Tom cleared his throat and stepped forward, giving them a charming smile. "Ladies, sorry to interrupt, but shall we get cracking? My car is not parked in the most ideal of places."

"Oh, of course, I'm so sorry ..." Claire had almost forgotten about Tom, too fascinated by Mary's new hairstyle. She gave him an apologetic look and turned to Mary. "Oh, by the way, may I introduce you to ..." she trailed off and stopped.

Mary's expression looked like the heavens had just opened up and bestowed them an angel. Her lips moved, but no sound came, but when she did finally found her voice, it sounded raspy. "Is this your Jamie that John was talking about?"

Claire pried Mary's hand from her suitcase. "No, this is Tom. He's offered to drive me here to pick you up."

Tom grinned and offered his hand in greeting. "A pleasure to finally meet ye, Mary. I've read a couple of yer books, and I must say, not only are ye a talented writer but a beautiful one too."

Claire mentally groaned but kept the frustration from her face at bay. Tom must have noticed Mary's reaction and had taken his flirting a notch higher. When Mary continued to stare, Claire gently nudged her with her elbow. "Mary. Shake Tom's hand, and let's go."

Mary shook her way out of her trance and smiled. "Oh, I think this is going to be a very, very interesting visit," she gushed, finally back to her being her old self again. But instead of shaking Tom's hand, she hooked her arm into his, leaving Claire with the suitcase. "So Tom ...can you recommend a perfect place to eat? I'm quite famished and can't work on an empty stomach."

Tom obliged and patted Mary's hand. "Dinnae fash, I ken just the place."

With that, Mary looked over her shoulder and winked. All Claire could do was smile back and hope they would be able to get some work done. Because if not, and there's any more cause to delay Hawkin's books, come hell or high water, she's quitting Dreamweaver.

...........

Two Days Later

Stepping out of the shower, Jamie immediately zeroed in on his phone just in case he'd missed a call from Claire. They'd briefly talked last night, and she'd reminded him of uncle Lamb's arrival, which should be between now and the evening. If all goes to plan with Mary Hawkins, Claire should be coming back too. Hopefully, tonight, he thought with a sigh. It was already late Saturday afternoon, and his work was done for the weekend. Plenty of time left to get his shit together.

Since Claire had left for Inverness, he hadn't had time to think. His brother had kept him busy with tasks and paperwork, and, on top of it all, he'd been distracted trying to comfort a distressed sister. Jenny had told him what had transpired between her and Claire. And how she'd been out of her mind, thinking she'd ruined their relationship. He'd consoled her, and in turn, she'd apologised profusely for her meddling. Her sincerity had touched him, but moreover, he couldn't help feeling amused at the thought of Jenny finally meeting her match. Though Claire was a gentle and thoughtful soul, he knew she was not the type to be bossed around. And in as much as he loved his sister, he was glad Claire put Jenny in her place and hoped after everything had been said and done, they can all move on from that incident and forgive.

Despite barely having time to be alone with his sometimes chaotic thoughts, he'd still managed to feel anxious about Christie. Jamie learned he hadn't returned to Broch Mordha, which led him to ponder if Christie was spending time with Claire. It was a lapse of insecurity, and that notion had been rubbished straight away since he knew how important Claire's work was to her. So there should be no pressure on his chest or icy tingling along his spine.

There shouldn't be, but somehow there was.

Jamie was just shrugging into a fresh sweatshirt when his doorbell rang. He glanced at the wall clock and wondered who it was. Claire hadn't given a specific time for Quentin's arrival, and if it had been her at the door, she should've let herself in with the spare key he'd given her.

"Coming!" he shouted as the doorbell rang once more. He took a deep breath expecting uncle Lamb to be standing out there. Bracing himself. he flung the door open and was surprised to see who it was. "Ge- ... I mean Dr Dunsany!"

"Hi, Jamie!" Geneva greeted. "You may call me Geneva, you know ...since we're not in my office. May I come in?"

Jamie narrowed his gaze and looked past her shoulder. He could see Mrs Fitz from across the street pretending to fuss over some leaves in her garden when really he could tell she's prying into his business. There were talks already surrounding Claire being seen with Tom, and it wouldn't do him good if words of Geneva coming to his cottage got around, no matter how innocent the visit was. He gave Geneva an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry, I'm kinda busy," he withdrew, glancing casually at his watch. "I ... there's... I'm expecting a visitor. "

"Oh! But this won't take long." She stood there with laid back confidence that lured most men to look their fill. He neutrally eyed the slim-fitting turtle neck that hugged her breast and tight jeans that hung low, her scarlet painted lips pursed in a pretty pout. "I wanted to talk about the session we had the other day," she added quickly.

Jamie crossed his arms across his chest. "Couldn't this wait until our next appointment?"

She took a cautious step closer, her expensive scent drifting in the air. "I'd rather talk about it now. This is just not about your therapy." Her blue eyes seductively landed on his lips. "I want to discuss something personal too."

"Sorry, personal won't do, I'm afraid. Ye're my therapist."

"Jamie, how long have we known each other?"

"Long enough ..."

She smiled, her hand brushing something away from his shoulder. "What's wrong? Surely your girlfriend won't mind your therapist coming over to check up on your progress, will she? We live in a small place, and we all know each other here."

"Her name is Claire ..."

"And I heard she's with Tom? Is that right?"

He smothered a sigh as he could tell what this was all about. Though Geneva was an attractive lass, he'd always only felt a minor buzz for her, which paled to the mind-blowing reaction Claire caused with just a single look. Where Claire was never more than anything but herself, Geneva always tried too hard. And it wasn't just all physical with Claire. It was their connection to each other's mind and soul. The way she made it easy for him to allow her to see his vulnerability and the way she'd let him in when no promises had been made on his part when they first met. Thinking back to the other day, he shook his head. He'd known the steaming anger that had risen within him when he'd first heard of Claire meeting with Tom and how that rumour almost made him lose his sense of judgement. He could not allow room for any gossip to go around, especially when Claire was away. Geneva should definitely not come in.

"Look, as ye can see, I'm fine. I dinnae think it's a good idea us meeting like this. Let's keep personal stuff away and keep this professional, aye?"

She took a while to accept his dismissal. Sheer frustration swept over her face before she managed to compose herself. He tried to offer any semblance of an apology, but she cut him off. "I'm the one who understands your condition and how tough it is to live a normal life with your PTSD. And I know better than anyone else right now how to handle it."

Irritation coasted down his back. "There's no doubt you're a brilliant therapist, Geneva. But I am much more than a textbook scenario. Something Claire has always understood."

"But for how long, Jamie?"

"That is none of your concern," he said cooly. "Now, please go as I have things to do."

Her back straightened with steely dignity, and Jamie could tell every movement was measured to create the most dramatic effect. It was another detail he found unattractive and probably why he'd never acted on Geneva's crush for him. "Here's my theory," she began in a low voice. "You're just with her because you needed to fix someone, and she fits the bill. That's what you've been doing all your life - fixing everyone's problem. You'll never be happy, Jamie, if you keep repeating the same pattern over and over again."

He swallowed his anger. "How I choose to live my life is my concern, and if it means repeating the same pattern, then so be it. Forcing me to see things the way you want me to will only piss me off. So while I still have patience, please go."

He took a tentative step backwards, waiting for her to leave so he could close the door. Instead of walking away, she took him by surprise and threw herself against him, looping her arms around his neck and pressing her lips against his.

Christ! Repelled by the assault, he grasped her shoulder and pushed her away. "What the bloody hell was that?" he gritted angrily.

Face red, she squared her shoulders and looked him straight in the eyes. "Mark my words, it's just a matter of time before Claire is unable to deal with your PTSD anymore. I know the pattern, and I've seen it a million times. Most men with this condition end up alone because no one fully understands the extent of what they go through. Oh sure, the people in their lives say they understand but do they really? It's a scary thing for most and an uncomfortable situation to live in. As for me ... I know, and I understand, and I can handle it because I've studied and worked with people like you. And when that day comes, and she leaves you for good, know that I'll be here waiting."

"Just because you know my history, it doesn't make ye an expert in knowing how my life will turn out to be. And ye don't know a thing about Claire, her heart, her resilience ..."

She snorted in disgust. "You just wait and see." With that, she turned around and walked off.

He almost choked. Has the lass gone mad? His skin crawled with icy foreboding as he glanced across the street, his eyes searching for his neighbour. To his relief, Mrs Fitz was no longer stood in the garden to witness Geneva's kiss. A sudden ugly thought came to him, and he wondered what Claire would do if she'd been in his position. Jamie shook his head and immediately dismissed the notion. Tom wouldn't dare. Jamie had already made sure, loud and clear, that Claire was off-limits.

When Geneva's kiss drifted back to the forefront of his mind, he grimaced. His first impulse was to ignore the whole incident. But on second thoughts, he should tell Claire in case words of it reached her before he could explain. He wasn't a hundred per cent sure no one had witnessed that weird occurrence, and if someone did, it would surely be tonight's topic on every dinner table in Broch Mordha. Worriedly, he glanced up and down his street and only saw an unfamiliar car and driver on the phone. Probably Mrs Fitz's new guest, he figured. Satisfied with that thought, he shut the door.

Attempting to get his composure back before he called Claire, he headed for the sideboard in his dining area, grabbed a bottle of whisky, and poured himself a measure. He threw back a shot, his eyes watering slightly in deference to the burn that slid down his throat. He was about to pour another one when the doorbell rang. Again.

What does she want now? He slammed the glass down on the dining table and made his way back to the door. This time he was going to tell Geneva to cancel his therapy appointment. The lass was mad, and he hadn't known the extent of it until today. He'd always thought of her crush for him as a harmless fancy, but obviously, with Jenny's meddling, she'd set her hopes up. This time, he's had enough. With irritation simmering in his guts, he opened the door ...

And was met by an imposing figure obstructing the daylight.

Jamie heard an unintelligible grunt in greeting, and the smell of tobacco invaded his nostrils. He peered at the face, but it was shadowed by a wide-brimmed fedora hat and several days worth of stubble. He blinked to rid the cobwebs threading patterns on his brain and forced his body to straighten to its full height.

"What's that on your mouth?" the man growled.

What the ...? "Quentin?"

"You got lipstick on!"

Horror swooped in as Jamie realised he was still exhibiting the evidence of Geneva's kiss. He immediately swiped the back of his hand across his mouth and instantly felt nauseated when he saw the smudged scarlet on his knuckles. Jesus! "It's not ... it's..."

"It's not my niece's," the older man finished with a cock of his bushy eyebrow.

"It's not mine either," Jamie retorted without thinking. Ah, bloody fuck! "I mean ... it's not what ye think."

"I would certainly hope it's not yours." Quentin narrowed his eyes at him, taking his measure. Jamie did the same to him. He wondered what the man was thinking, but Claire's uncle spoke again before he got a chance. "Well, are you letting me in, or are we just going to stare at each other like a couple of dafties?"

Who the fuck does he think he is? But he quickly reminded himself this was Claire's uncle, so he slightly softened his stance. Swallowing the sour taste in his mouth, Jamie took a step back and motioned Quentin into his home. "Come in."

Ignoring Jamie's dark look, Quentin strode into his cottage, but he's brought up short when he saw the whisky and shot glass on the dining table. He plopped his sling bag onto the chair, opened it, pulled out a tequila bottle and placed it on the table. Then he turned around and slid his hands into his pockets. "You and I, lad, are going to talk before my niece arrives."

Jamie shut the door and eyed Quentin, carefully pondering his words. As he'd suspected, Quentin was very much like Harry but with broader shoulders, an intense darker face, and eyes that seemed to flash with diabolical laughter. It was a face that had probably seen too much in his lifetime. All his mannerisms were large, confident and perfectly balanced, like those of a wild cat, and when he stood in his space like this, he appeared to be a wild animal held in a cage too inadequate for it. His features might be similar to Harry's, but yet, their difference was like night and day.

A scoff rasped his throat. "I've had enough forced therapy for the week, thank ye very much."

"If I didn't know you any better, I would have bloodied your nose after seeing that lipstick on your mouth."

"If ye're dying to punch me on the face, then give me yer best shot. I dinnae have to explain anything to ye. I've done nothing wrong."

"No, you haven't," Quentin sighed, nodding his head. "I saw what passed."

Jamie absorbed that while keeping his features impassive. "And yet ye're still judging me."

Quentin's mouth twitched, but his eyes remained serious. "I'm not."

"Right from the start, it felt like ye've been giving me the first degree."

Quentin disregarded his words with a shrug. "I was just making sure Claire's in good hands. She's all I have."

Jamie understood the sentiment. He would have probably done the same if he'd been in Quentin's shoes. Christ, hadn't he felt like committing murder when he'd first found out about Tom?

"We've met before, you know?" Quentin interrupted his thoughts.

Jamie's head shot up.

"Way before our video chat," the older man revealed. "But I figured you don't remember."

He didn't, so he shook his head.

Quentin took off his hat and slapped it against his thigh before placing it on the table. "Claire recently told me she just found out that it was you and your godfather, ...Murtagh...I believe his name was, who saved her from the car accident. She asked me if I knew." Quentin paused to discern Jamie's expression. When he couldn't seem to read anything, he proceeded. "I admitted I did and ..."

"Ye knew who I was?"

"No. Not until you told me your family name and mentioned Lallybroch near the end of our video chat. I thought Claire would be angry for not telling her, but she didn't say much else except that both of you have been clueless all these years. So if you have any questions about what happened, I'll fill in the void for you if it'll help you move on."

Jamie shoved a hand through his hair. Feeling suddenly restless, he went to the drinks' cabinet to retrieve shot glasses. He grabbed the tequila bottle, uncapped it, and poured two equal measures. "So now you want to diagnose me? Is that it?"

"Diagnose you for what?"

Jamie realised Quentin knew nothing of his condition. Claire hadn't told her uncle. He ignored the question and handed the shot to Quentin. "Why bring it up now?"

Quentin took the offered glass, raised a silent toast with Jamie, and simultaneously threw back the shot. They both flinched at the heat. "I owe you the truth," Quentin replied, placing the shot glass on the table. "Take it or leave it. I've been silent about it for years. Tell me what you remember, and I'll tell you everything you want to know."

Did he really want to know? The past would eventually catch up and come out, that much Jamie knew, so he might as well have it out in the open. Taking a deep breath, he paced to the window and with his back to Quentin, he began recounting what he could remember from the accident. He waited for the white noise or the torture to start swarming in his head, but to his astonishment, they never came. Though the memory of that fateful day was more vivid than ever, its power to hold him in a choke was diminished. The words flowed with ease, and it began to feel like he was describing someone else's story. When he was done, he turned around and saw just in time a shadow passed across the older man's face. He looked like ten years have been shaved off his life.

Quentin took a seat and clasped his hands together. "I lied to you the day when we first met."

Jamie stilled and looked at Quentin. "What do ye mean?"

"I was in Cairo when I heard the news of the accident. I immediately took the first plane out and headed here. I was told Claire was being taken care of by your parents and that both of you were inseparable. When I arrived at Lallybroch, you were holding Claire in your lap like she was the most precious thing." Quentin paused and smiled at the memory before descending back to that sad place in his head. "But when you laid eyes on me, that's when you lost it and started screaming. Claire screamed along with you ...God, it was awful. At that time, it hadn't truly sunk in what happened to my brother and his wife, and it was torture to see you kids in such pain." Quentin shook his head. "You were shouting something like ...I should be dead and that you've seen me go up in flames. You see, I've been told beforehand you'd witnessed the accident, and that's when it occurred to me you thought I was Harry. So I did what I thought was best at that moment ...I knelt before you and fibbed. Only because nothing could calm you down, and I wanted to ease your distress. I pretended to be Harry and told you I wasn't dead, and when you asked how I got away, I made up some story like managing to crawl out the last minute. Somehow that little white lie quieted you down."

"I honestly don't remember that part," Jamie whispered, taking a seat across from Quentin. "But in saying that, all the memories of that day are just beginning to resurface. I'm just starting to remember again. It all began when ..."

"When you met Claire for the second time," Quentin finished for him.

Jamie nodded with a small smile as he watched Quentin stood up and poured them another shot.

Quentin gazed at him with all the seriousness. "May I ask you a question?"

"Ask away."

Quentin pushed the shot glass towards him. "What if, instead of Harry, you were the one that died that day?" He paused and looked directly into his eyes. "What do you think would you have missed in the years that came after?"

Jamie frowned. "Why would ye ask such a thing?"

Quentin sighed. "Because lately, I've been asking myself the same question every day. I've searched for the answer going back through almost twenty years, and I've come up with almost nothing. Besides Claire coming into my life, I have nothing to show. Of course, there were a few memorable moments when I was granted an acknowledgement of merit for my work. And then there were a few rare occasions I got to spend time with Claire. But between those scraps of time, there's only a grey empty void. The rest of my days were spent going through the motions, keeping a barrier between me and the world. I realised, ever since my brother died, I've been living in fear that the same fate could befall me ... that's why I've never married. So you see now, Jamie, I haven't been living at all. And I don't want you to make that mistake."

Jamie gave a wistful smile. "I see that, and with everything happening, I'm just starting to understand. We all have to walk around lugging a past, getting from one step to the next. Just need a healthy way to release it, as Claire often reminded me enough." When Jamie saw Quentin nodding in agreement, he saw an opportunity. He cleared his throat and straightened himself. He'd just bonded with Claire's uncle, so surely that should mean something. "So ....Quentin," he began nervously, "does this mean ye're fine with me being with Claire?"

Claire's uncle went back to looking like he wanted to rip a head off. "No. I've just arrived after a long flight, and you haven't offered me anything. I haven't eaten in the last six hours, and you're asking me if I'm okay with you being with Claire? So far, all you've done is open the tequila bottle without thanking me for it and nought to impress me."

Ah, shite! Hearing that, he pushed himself to his feet. "I ken a few good places that serve excellent pub grub," he said rapidly.

"Do you not have food in your kitchen, lad?"

"Aye, I do, but since ye're starving, I thought it would be easier if we got something out," Jamie reasoned. "So, what do ye have in mind?"

Quentin glowered at him before slugging back the rest of his shot. "Somewhere where they serve greasy food."

Jamie stopped. "But Claire said yer heart ..."

"The greasier, the better," Quentin growled.

It was clear to Jamie he's still miles away from wholly winning over Quentin. He reckoned he's probably not going to win that battle today, and one plate of greasy food was not going to kill Claire's uncle. Ah, hell! Didn't his ma once said that the way to someone's heart is through one's stomach? There's a chance that this could still work. But before he could say anything, his phone buzzed, and he almost knocked over the chair, trying to grab it. "It's Claire."

Quentin rolled his eyes.

Jamie quickly read Claire's message and smiled. Ah, there's a God after all! He glanced up at Quentin. "She's coming back home tonight."

"I knew that! Now, how about that nosh you were on about."

"Aye ...right ...I ken just the place."

..........

Five Hours Later

"This is a shithole!" Quentin grumbled, slurring his words and shoving his unfinished plate of Bangers and Mash away from him.

Tough shite! Jamie glanced out the window and then looked back at the time on his watch. Damn it! A plate of food each, five pints of lager for Quentin and three pints for him later, still no word from Claire, and if she didn't come home soon, Quentin would drink him under the table. As it was, he's feeling rather tipsy already.

"You know what?" Quentin tipped the bottom of the pint glass in his direction. "Since we arrived here, you kept looking out that window every few minutes. Am I boring you, or is there something interesting out there? If so, care to share?"

Jamie blew out a breath. "Just wondering when Claire's coming home. Haven't heard from her since her last message.."

"Is that why you're looking outside? Does she know we're here?"

"No! Christie is bringing her back from Inverness."

"Who's Christie?"

"Some bloke."

"So what's outside? You keep looking out there."

Damn, so many questions! Jamie pointed his finger towards the window. "See that red door over there? Christie lives in that building, first floor, window facing the street. We'd know when they've arrived."

"Is that why you brought me here so you could check every once in a while if Claire's arrived?"

The older man was on to him, but Jamie wasn't about to admit it. "You wanted greasy food, did ye not?"

Quentin shrugged without answering.

Jamie checked his phone again and agitatedly rubbed a hand behind his neck. What's taking them so long? Wicked thoughts were beginning to seep in. Has Claire, by any chance, heard about Geneva's visit and kiss? It wouldn't be an impossibility as rumours tended to make their way out of Broch Mordha. A part of him knew that the alcohol was dulling his reason, so he mentally shook himself. He should have called Claire earlier, right after Geneva left and told her what happened, but of course, Quentin's arrival had interrupted him from doing just that.

"Stop fidgeting. You're making me nervous."

"I'm just worried Claire would hear about that kiss ye witness earlier before I get to explain myself."

A heartbeat passed. For the first time since Jamie had known Quentin, his tough demeanour slipped, and something akin to amusement flashed through. "Don't worry. If she's heard about it, she would have given you her two pennies worth by now, and that's putting it mildly. Of course ...worst-case scenario, you'll end up with your ears ringing for days after she's done telling you off." He smirked and raised his pint to his lips, his actions revealing he was only teasing. Jamie reined in his frustration and let it go without comment.

Obviously emboldened by Jamie's silence, Quentin leaned forward. "So, have you bought flowers for Claire for when she returns?"

"No."

"Why not? It would help your cause in case Claire heard about that kiss."

Jamie glared at Quentin. "Thanks for rubbing that in. But I dinnae have time. I was too busy entertaining ye. Besides, I bought her fruits. She loves fruits. I even bought her a variety of them."

The older man's eyes bugged out. "She's got you eating healthy too, huh?"

"Nothing wrong with that," Jamie muttered. "She likes chocolates too. I got her a big box of it. Lindt."

Quentin glanced out the window to his side and perked up. "Hey, someone just went through that red door. I don't know what Christie looks like, but it could be anyone."

Jamie followed his gaze, and sure enough, the red door was just closing. He glanced back at his phone on the table, and though he knew he would hear the sound of notification, he still needed to look to assure himself. There was still no message.

"First-floor window light just went on," Quentin observed in a low voice. "That's Christie's place, right?"

His head snapped up. "What?"

"Oh, look, that's Claire, looking out. I know that hair anywhere."

Jamie looked and saw Claire just in time before she moved away from the window and pulled the curtain. He swallowed the odd lump in his throat. What the hell is she doing in Christie's place? Then it all came rushing in, in full force. He'd left Claire on her own because of his stupid panic attacks, and when he'd finally come to his senses, it was probably too late because Christie had already entered the picture. And now everything that Geneva had told him earlier was coming to fruition. No, no!

A split second later, Jamie burst out the pub's front entrance and ran across the street, Quentin not far behind him.

This cannae be happening. This is the worse nightmare ever. Ach Christ, please dinnae let this be true. Please. She's my lass. Mine. No, no, no. Oh fuck, I need her.

Thunder roared in his ears, and he'd only vaguely managed to process Quentin's remark on his overreaction and something about alcohol consumption. But all he could think of was how he and Claire needed to talk, now. He couldn't accept their relationship was over when it hadn't had a chance yet.

Jamie stopped in front of Christie's building and looked up the window, shouting Claire's name, while Quentin manically pressed the buzzer for the first floor. A few passersby eyed them warily, and a voice called from somewhere, "what the bloody hell, Fraser!" probably thinking they'd gone off their nuts, but he couldn't give a fuck. His heart hammered wildly, unable to think straight. All he could see was Claire with Christie, together. He groaned miserably, the very thought chilling him to the bone. Oh, please, God no!

No one responded to Quentin's incessant buzzing, and when he tried to yank on the knob, it didn't budge. It remained lock.

Jamie gathered a few stones that he could find on the cobbled street and started pelting Christie's window, roaring Claire's name on top of his lungs. His effort was rewarded when the curtain slid open, and he saw Claire looking down, her hair all wild and loose. But by now, they've also attracted a wee crowd that stood in a semi-circle behind him. He didn't take notice and focused his attention on the woman above.

"Claire Elizabeth Beauchamp! Don't ye dare leave me!" He shouted. "We love each other, remember? I was a prick for leaving ye on yer own when ye came to Scotland to be with me. I promise ye this will never happen again. And whatever problem we have together, we can fix this. Ye understand me?" He fell on his knees, grateful for the pain shooting up his thighs because his heart was breaking into thousand pieces. "I ken I could be a selfless arse, but I'm working on being a better person for ye ...for us. We've only known each other for a short while, but it's enough for me to see that ye're the one for me. Forever. I love ye with all my heart, Sassenach, and I cannae imagine life without ye."

Jamie paused to get his breathing back to normal and give Claire a chance to respond. But she remained immobile and continued to stare down at him. The crowd behind whispered and tittered, probably thinking he'd finally lost all his marbles. He even heard someone murmuring about him having had a bit too much to drink. But he didn't care even when he saw Quentin's shaking head, most likely in disgust at him. A hand touched his shoulder, but he shrugged it off, only focused on getting through Claire. "What do I need to do to make ye, believe me, Sassenach? Ye ken, I'll do anything to prove to ye how much I love ye. Does he ken the things I do? Like ...like what song makes ye smile? I can sing it for ye if that's what it would take." When the silence lingered, except for the hush sounds from behind him, Jamie puffed out a silent curse. "Christ ... I'll do it. For ye, ye hear me? I'll sing that damn song. Just so ye ken, I meant every word I said."

Then he stood up from his kneeling position and gave Rick Astley a run for his money.

..........

Hands on her chest, Claire stood inert behind Jamie, listening with interest as he belted out Rick Astley's Never Gonna Give you Up in a scratchy voice. She tilted her head to the side and watched in fascination his stiff, sparse hip movement that went with his song. She'd wanted to alleviate Jamie's suffering and save him from further embarrassment, but midway through his moving speech, she'd caught a glimpse of her uncle. He'd given her a warning shake of his head, telling her to let Jamie finish pouring his heart out. So with a sigh, she stood back and waited.

Oh, Jamie, Jamie!

This beautiful, rugged giant of a man and former SAS soldier was singing to her as though his life depended on it. How could he think she'd left him? She needed to put her arms around him and reassure him that he's the one for her too and that there's been nobody else but him.

"Jamie!" she rasped. When he didn't hear her, she cleared her throat and tried again. "Jamie! It's me, Claire!"

Jamie stopped and whipped around, his eyes taking her in, in total disbelief. "Sassenach?" he whispered. "It's ye."

Her throat constricted. "Uh-huh."

His head jerked back up to the window and then back to Claire. He looked as though he wanted to believe he was really seeing her but could not see past his fear just yet. "To whom the bloody hell was I proclaiming my love to then if ye were stood here all along?" he asked, throat working with emotion.

"You were singing to Mary Hawkins, Jamie," she croaked. "The star author of our publishing company."

"And what the hell is she doing up at Christie's place?"

Claire grimaced. This was really a sensitive subject, and they were talking about a public figure, and a small crowd was watching them. So she stepped closer and spoke in a low voice. "I think Mary and Tom have a thing for each other. And I have a sneaking suspicion ..." she glanced up at the window above where Mary still stood. "Tom is not going to be please when he finds out it was you who interrupted whatever they're up to."

"James Fucking Fraser!"

It was Tom, wherever he was shouting from. Jamie didn't wait to find out because, in one quick movement, he took Claire's hand and made short work of getting them into the dark alley to the applause and cheers of the bystanders. Laughing, they ran and ran until they were far away enough from prying eyes. And there in the darkened path, its only illumination coming from the full moon above, they found one another once again in each other's arms.

Dear Readers,

Firstly, thank you all for your feedback in the previous chapter. I'm going to keep this short as I still tire easily.

As I've mentioned before, I haven't been well the last few days; hence the delay for this instalment. I hope you enjoyed this one. If there are any inconsistencies and grammar mistakes, I blame them on my medication. Haha!

So that said, thank you all for the messages on my Tumblr, your feedback and kudos on AO3, and mostly for your patience. Take care always of yourself, and keep spreading the love vibe! X

#melodyheart #wonderwall #milesbetweenus #ClaireBeauchamp/JamieFraser #claire beauchamp #jamie fraser #outlanderfanfic

81 notes · View notes

kim-seungmine · 5 years ago

Text

dream the night away

title: dream the night away

characters: (fem) reader x hwang hyunjin of stray kids

genre: slice-of-life, romance, angst, best friends to lovers au, idol au, idol!hyunjin, hyunjin centric, inspired by 3racha’s cloud 9 but not really?

warnings: minor character death, sometimes heavy, slow burn (aka i wanted it to be but i wasn’t patient enough), i tried to proofread, i gave up trying to format text convo on tumblr, i think they kiss a lot.

word count: 11.6k i’m so sorry

synopsis: one night, hyunjin wonders how he long can stay floating on cloud 9 before he loses his balance and falls all the way down to the pits of hell. After that, nothing feels right.

disclaimer: this is idol!hyunjin so i just wanna say that this is not how hyunjin is in real life and im not trying to convince you that he feels the things in the story. some parts are inspired by the things they’ve said but everything that happens here is pure fiction... which actually goes without saying since this is a fanfic, but i just feel the need to say it. for my personal long ass author’s note, you can read it below.

Hyunjin is met with darkness when he steps into the dorm. It used to be more packed, it used to be messier, and it used to be really loud. Now he only shares the dorm with the 00z who are surprisingly quiet if you think about it. Seungmin sleeps early, Felix has his headphones stuck to his ears and plays games until the sun rises, and Jisung is snugged somewhere watching movies. On busier days, Seungmin and Felix are at the company for lessons and Jisung spends the night at the studio with Chan and Changbin. Hyunjin, meanwhile, usually has some photoshoots.

However, tonight feels unnaturally quiet, especially since Hyunjin has just won his first Bonsang as a solo artist. He switches the lights on, and his friends are soundlessly huddled together by the fridge, Jisung holding a small cake.

“Surprise!” Seungmin exclaims rather flatly as Hyunjin drops to the floor out of shock, shouting profanities. Felix proceeds to grab some candles from the kitchen counter and lights them up. “Come on, blow the candles."

Hyunjin lets out an amused sigh, rising to his feet before blowing all the candles out. “Please tell me these aren’t those candles that stay lit n—what the hell.”

He continues blowing, his friends giggling while Seungmin groans. “Why did you have to curse? I was about to post that on Instagram Story!”

“Why are we doing this anyways? We’re not 18 anymore,” Hyunjin protests half-heartedly. He can’t really remember the last time they gave each other a proper surprise. It feels like ages ago. Jisung scoffs, searching for a knife inside one of the kitchen drawers. Slicing the cake, he retorts, “Your dramatic ass loves surprises, stop denying it.”

“Anyone has anything to do tonight? The hyungs want to come over,” Felix informs while typing on his phone. Hyunjin’s vibrates after a few seconds; everyone on the Stray Kids group chat must be congratulating him.

Seungmin opens the chat, frowning. “Where’s Jeongin?”

“He hasn’t been replying since hours ago. That brat probably fell asleep. Just ask his bro if he’s home,” Hyunjin suggests, about to reply to Chan’s message when another message pops up.

y/n: sorry i couldnt watch the show

y/n: but i saw the news! congratulations!!

y/n: so proud of you, as always!

Hyunjin’s eyes light up at your messages. It’s been months since he saw you; he’s been busy with his solo debut and you’ve been busy with school. When both of you were children, you often pictured how life would be. Hyunjin would be a famous soccer player for Manchester United and the captain of South Korea national team. You would be studying to become a doctor.

He finds it funny that you’re doing the exact same thing while he’s doing something he never even imagined before. Hyunjin is always amazed at how well you planned your whole life and executed every single plan, albeit not always instantly.

After all these years, though, he dares to say that both of you turned out okay. Amazing, even.

“Order whatever you want. I’m eating outside but I’ll be back soon,” Hyunjin tells his friends, bombarding you with messages before you turn your phone off, the thing you always do when you’re about to cram.

Seungmin arches an eyebrow. “Y/N?”

“Yeah. I asked whether she wants to eat gopchang with me.”

“You should really be careful.”

“Everyone knows we’re best friends. No one will make a weird rumor or anything.”

Jisung clicks his tongue. “Well, do you?”

Whenever someone talks about you, it always leads to this very conversation. Hyunjin decides to let Jisung’s question (sarcasm) hang in the air, but he knows the answer. Yes, he knows you and him are just best friends. Does he like it that way?

Hyunjin knows the answer to that too. He only pretends that he doesn’t.

You’re already slurping your soup when Hyunjin says hi to the restaurant owners, Mr and Mrs. Jang. “Oh Hyunjinnie, I just watched you on TV. You won something, right?” he asks. His wife ushers him to sit down, putting extra servings of kimchi on the table.

“Why didn’t I get extra kimchi?” You pout, shooting a jealous glare at Hyunjin who’s busy explaining what a Bonsang is to the owners.

“You did a good job, then,” Mrs. Jang coos. “You don’t need to pay today. It’s on us!”

You quickly put your spoon down. “What about me? I barely sleep thesedays, and I’m not as rich as Hyunjin!”

“Aigoo, you started eating before your friend came then demand for free food. You’re lucky we love you as much as we love Hyunjin.”

The couple laugh at your reaction, jokingly scolding you for being whinier than Hyunjin when it used to be the other way around. He smiles, remembering all the times he forced you to eat his eggplants for him and the times when he begged you to help him study because he needed to beat all of his friends.

“Eat,” you scowl. “You only have half an hour to brag. I have a night shift.”

Out of the times you’re being petty towards him, you were only seriously petty once: when he beat your English score in ninth grade although you were the one teaching him. He had to bribe you with a week’s worth of Haribo jellies before you stopped ignoring him.

Hyunjin giggles. “When’s your exam? Tomorrow?”

“Next week,” you whine. “But I have so many things to do! And I think someone stole my notes, I can’t seem to find them anywhere. Do you even understand half the pain I’m going through right now? All I need is one solid hour of sleep.”

“Hmm,” he hums. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

You widen your eyes, eyeing Hyunjin from head to toe. “Sometimes I forget you’re Stray Kids’ Hyunjin.”

He pretends to stab himself on the chest. “That h-hurts,” he fake-groans. “Then who do you think I am?”

“My neighbor,” you answer. “—who doesn’t even live at home anymore.”

“To be fair, you’re practically holed in hospital now.”

“Yeah but I go home every two weeks? You go home twice a year.”

“Excuse me?! I went home on your birthday… in the middle of a tour! I could’ve been sleeping or practicing, but I came home!”

He always “argues” with you until both of you are out of breath, clutching your chests because it somehow feels hilarious. You drink the last few drops of the soup right from your bowl, setting it back on the table and empty your glass in one go.

“I don’t have enough energy for this,” you sigh dreamily, prepping your head on your arm. “Tell me about everything. Your first Bonsang.”

Hyunjin can still hear his fans’ voices chanting his name and cheering for him as he delivered his speech while sobbing (this is what he hates from solo promotions, nobody else is there to stop him from crying or taking over the mic from him so he could calm himself down). He remembers every single word he said and the proud faces of his fellow artists. The thrill, the triumph, the satisfaction, the love… it’s making him emotional all over again.

He grabs a tissue to blow his nose. “I was surprised when the company said that I was invited. Our group hasn’t made a comeback this year, and although my song did chart quite well, I never expected they would even invite me.”

“They gave me a 5-minute stage! I was so happy, I sent you my rehearsal videos, right?”

You nod, imitating one of the moves in his dance break.

“Everything was even more amazing on stage, with Stays watching me. I think I was possessed during the performance… I was goddamn nervous though.”

“Yeah, I watched it on the way here. You kept licking your lip, I don’t care if your fans think that’s hot. To me you’re just a nervous mess…”

Hyunjin has started to pout when you add, “… who did a very great job nevertheless! It’s just that I’ve known you so long. You can’t hide anything from me.”

He notices how you’re holding your breath, waiting for him to respond. After years, Hyunjin thought he would take negative comments much less seriously, but apparently it didn’t become easier. It became harder, so hard that he had to take a 3-month hiatus last year.

With you, everything is different. You can tell him that he sucks big time and he’ll take it seriously, but he never gets offended. There are a lot of times when people treat him like he’s made of glass (or a snowflake, Seungmin once said), but you treat him the way you’ve always treated him and he loves it. None of his other friends understands, but your honesty is priceless. It’s what keeps him going; he knows you’ll never cherish him less no matter what you say about the way he dances and raps, or the way he looks and behaves. And he’s sure that his honesty also means the world to you. You are each other’s toughest critic, but it will never change anything.

“Hyunjin.” You place your hand over his, eyes wide. “I’m sorry. It just slipped out of my mouth.”

He chuckles, flipping his palm to squeeze your hand. “You idiot. You just stated the facts.”

You squeeze his hand back before pulling away. “I’m looking at Hwang Hyunjin of Stray Kids who sold over 100.000 copies of his first solo album, who won Bonsang for the first time, who gets worshiped by everyone he locks eyes with—except for me of course. I’m a very proud friend.”

“Stop it.” Hyunjin rolls his eyes, but unable to hide his smile once he sees you grinning like a happy child. “How much time do we have left?”

You glance at your phone, sighing when a reminder for you to study pops up. “5 minutes. I have to go back to the hospital soon.”

“Can you even study during your shift?”

“I have to,” you mumble. “Anyways, thanks for dragging me out. I did miss you after all.”

“I missed you too,” Hyunjin says, probably too quick for his own good but he doesn’t regret it.

“I’ll be going now.” You stretch your limbs, grabbing your bag and slinging it over your shoulder. “Any last words before I go to war?”

“I should be the one asking you that.”

“Oh, right.”

Chan is the only one awake by the time Hyunjin gets back home. He huffs in regret, knowing that the hyungs decided to stay over to celebrate his Bonsang win. The leader greets him with a bear hug, carefully avoiding Felix and Minho who are fast asleep on the floor. “We’re so happy for you!” he whisper-yells. “How was Y/N?”

Hyunjin returns his hug with an even tighter one. “Thanks hyung. You composed the song after all! And sorry I came back too late.”

Chan shakes his head. “Nah, it’s fine. At some point we forgot why we were here and just started playing mafia.”

“Y/N is fine, anyways, just tired.”

“She’s always tired, isn’t she?”

“Yeah. It turns out that medical students are probably more tired than us.”

Hyunjin leads Chan to his bedroom. Each of the 00z has their own bedroom now. It’s much more convenient and they can arrange their stuff however they want to (they avoid entering Jisung’s room as much as possible), but Hyunjin misses the mess at times. The old dorm was cramped, either too hot or too cold, and way too noisy, but it was home for quite a long time.

Chan seems to be having the same thought. “We miss you kiddos sometimes,” he laughs. “But we fixed that sliding door. It closes properly now.”

“As long as Changbin hyung keeps opening it with too much force it will be broken again in no time. Trust me.”

Both of them are lying on Hyunjin’s king size bed, staring at the sideboard table he dedicates for his music show—and now, music award—trophies. “The kids don’t really say it but they’re all so proud of you. I’m proud of you. I raised you well, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, you kinda did.”

“Kinda?!”

“I’m joking.” Hyunjin scrunches his nose. “You raised all of us. We raised Jeongin. And we raised each other.”

“3racha are almost finished choosing the final songs, you have 2 weeks to relax then we’ll start production right away. Our next tour won’t start until May, so we have plenty of time to prepare everything.”

“Ohhhhh I can feel my bones breaking already. We’re getting old,” Hyunjin whines.

Chan pats his thighs, cracking his knuckles before jumping out of bed. “You’re getting old,” he teases.

“I’m glad, though. Everything finally works out the way we wanted to. I guess we can say that we’re doing well now, right?”

Chan doesn’t wait for Hyunjin to answer and leaves the room right away. The latter ponders the rhetorical question for a while, recalling the goals they have reached for the past few years. Entering the Melon chart (and staying on Top 20 for a week), having one of the most successful world tour, winning prestigious awards at prestigious music awards, 3racha getting acknowledged as the industry’s top composers, 00z winning music shows for their unit debut last year, Jeongin getting drama roles, and last but not least, Hyunjin’s successful solo debut.

Feeling nostalgic, he scrolls through his phone, looking at old photos and silly videos. Looking at the lyrics he wrote on his note app. Then he goes through @realstraykids’ posts on Instagram, from when Jeongin still had braces until tonight. The latest selcas on his own official account are still getting likes, the fans showering him with praises.

Hyunjin has ticked off everything from his wish list. He has reached every goal he set a few years ago. They are doing well. He’s doing well.

He looks at his surroundings, immersing himself in the space and peace of his room that he once craved desperately. He’s supposed to be at peace now, but his mind won’t stop buzzing, asking himself what to do next.

For the very first time, Hyunjin realizes that he’s now floating on Cloud 9. Everything is perfect, he’s living his dream life. But at the back of his head, he can hear the clock ticking, ready to push him over the edge the moment he loses his balance, watching him fall all the way to the pits of hell.

Everything is perfect, but why does his heart feel so empty?

Hyunjin’s brows furrow as he tries to catch some comments the fans are posting. When he was a rookie he couldn’t get used to how fast the comments come in, and it’s something that doesn’t quite change. Probably he got used to it at some point, but they kept gaining fans that the comment section is always extremely active.

“Hyunjin oppa,” he pronounces the words slowly. ”Spo-spoiler please!”

He lifts his head to give the viewers a secretive smile. “Nope.” He wiggles his forefinger. “You have to wait for the teasers!”

“Ohhh the comments! You guys are so excited I can’t keep up!”

More comments flood in, and Hyunjin has to press his phone screen in order to read the one comment he’s been trying to read. “Recommend me a song, please!”

“Uhhh—” He takes some time to think of the songs he’s been listening to, tapping his fingers against the surface of the table while the comments keep coming in, but this time he spots words that stab him right on his gut. With trembling hands, he lifts his phone, clicking the report button as subtle as possible. His vision grows blurry as he reports every single comment that has the word “fuck you”, “die” or “talentless” in it.

The pause has become too long and too awkward, so he stops himself from reporting more and stares at the lens. “Ah, song recommendation!” he exclaims. “I have quite a lot but thesedays I’ve been listening to 00z songs a lot. We had so much fun promoting together.”

Hyunjin feels his other phone vibrating in his pocket, probably his mother checking in. It gives him a boost of energy, and he tells his fans he’ll stay with them for 10 more minutes. “When we’re just talking like this, I’m always reminded that we’ve come so far,” Hyunjin says, a smile on his face. “It feels good to know that all of you are making time for us, for me, after your busy day. And no, I’m not sleepy. Don’t worry, everyone!”

He reads some more comments, mostly cheesy pickup lines to cheer himself up as his brain is still trying to get all the hurtful words out of his system. “Ah, I think I have to go now,” Hyunjin announces lowly. “I have to go back to practice, if not Chan hyung will barge in and drag me back to the practice room.”

“What? You want me to get scolded by Chan hyung? Why are you so mean?!”

Hyunjin ends up staying for 20 more minutes before finally ending the broadcast. Conversation with his fans is something he values a lot; it gives him strength and makes him laugh. It makes him feel loved and he wants his fans to feel the same.

But it’s equally tiring. He has to brace himself for some less-than-nice comments, sometimes they are way too severe for him to handle that the company sues all the commenters. You’ve told him over and over again that those people aren’t his fans.

Everything could’ve been worse. Hyunjin still considers himself very lucky that he has much more fans than haters. Still, he often imagines how it will feel if he has no hater at all, since he does have some friends who seem to only hear pretty words.

Hyunjin stays inside the room for a few more minutes, replying to Seungmin’s messages and assures him that he’ll be back soon. He idly plays one of their songs he hasn’t heard for years, the song that was always included in their setlist before being replaced by some other songs. Hyunjin initially thought he wouldn’t need that song anymore, but tonight, he needs it. Maybe he needs it more now than before.

After making a mental note to ask the other boys to add the song back to the concert’s setlist, Hyunjin leaves, cursing himself for taking too much time to regain his composure.

Should I stop or not? Should I give up or not?

“Hwang Hyunjin, stop coming into my room without my permission! You literally trespassed into someone else’s property!”

Hyunjin groans into his pillow, instantly regretting his decision to pick up your call at midnight. “I didn’t!”

“Don’t lie to me. You took Gureum with you!”

He takes a quick glance at the rabbit plushie he placed on top of his pillow. Last night, he did go home because Kkami (everyone calls him old man now) got a little sick. “I miiiiight have made a quick detour next door when I was about to leave.”

“You’re pathetic. You got soooooo many plushies and toys and cute headbands from fansigns and you stole my Gureum.”

“Stop guilt tripping me! I missed Gureum, okay? Why didn’t you take him to your dorm?”

Hyunjin senses your hesitation as you clear your throat. “Well, sometimes seeing Gureum only makes me miss everyone more, so I just left him at home.”

Now he feels guilty. Your parents are currently staying overseas to take care of your sick little sister. He pictures you coming to an empty home every two weeks, exhausted and not having anyone to welcome you.

“Do you want me to come over?”

“Our superstar isn’t busy?”

“I am, but I’m willing to sacrifice my precious time for my best friend.”

You scoff over the phone, but telling him to hurry up before ending the call. Hyunjin packs his clothes and toiletries, along with Gureum—his birthday present for your 11th birthday. You almost never sleep without it, yet the plushie still looks brand new.

Unable to hide his smitten smile, Hyunjin grabs his keys.

The apartment complex where Hyunjin lives has changed a lot over the years. The soccer field he used to play at is now a playground. The little bookstore you loved so much is now a bakery. Now there’s a big shopping mall right across the building. After saving up for a while, Hyunjin asked his parents whether they wanted to move to a bigger place. He kind of hoped that they wouldn’t want it because he wanted to stay close to you (although coming home is a real challenge for him). Luckily, his parents said no.

He enters your door password leisurely, recalling the time when your parents told him to take care of you.

So far, you’ve been the one taking care of him.

Hyunjin heads straight to your bedroom, opening the door and sees you curling on your bed. The mattress he sleeps on whenever he stays over is already laid on the floor.

“Gureum!” you yell when he throws the squishy rabbit to you. Hyunjin drops his bag and settles himself on the mattress, staring up at you.

“How’s your sis?”

You scoot towards the end of the bed, showing him a photo on your phone. Your sister is smiling; she looks much better than before, but still very pale and thin. “I haven’t called her,” Hyunjin admits. “But she got the albums I sent to her. Sent the ones signed by the others too. That kid loves Jisung, do you know that?”

“I got her into Jisung.”

He sits up, looking almost offended. “Your bias is Han Jisung?”

“This world doesn’t revolve around you, superstar.” You flash him a cheeky grin. “I wanted to ask you to let me go to the backstage again last tour, but I restrained myself. As your kind best friend, I shouldn’t abuse my privilege.”

“You know that he never cleans his room, right?”

You hum, “Nobody’s perfect, Jinnie.”

“Oh come on!” Hyunjin protests. “If it’s Jeongin I understand although he also never cleans his room. But Jisung? And you’re calling yourself my best friend!”

“He’s funny!” you argue. ”He has a nice voice—it’s really sexy when he raps, he dances well, he wrote all my favorite Stray Kids songs, and he actually had the balls to fight you. A real champ.”

Hyunjin rolls his eyes, making a gesture to snatch Gureum away from you. “And at the end of the day, you love him,” you add. “He makes you laugh too.”

Well, it’s a fact he can’t refute. You ask, “Do you think I should hit on him or something? Will people call me out? Does he have someone?”

“We are not having this conversation Y/N. I don’t care if both of you are my best friends, you’re not dating Han Jisung. What happened to that ‘hot senior’ Jung Jaehyun? The last time we called, you were so in love with him.”

The mention of Jaehyun’s name causes you to slump into your bed, covering yourself with your thick blanket. “I sort of blew it up,” you mumble. “He asked me on a real date and I said no.”

You seem to hit realization that’s way too late, and now you’re hollering, “I said no to Jung Jaehyun! Oh my God Hyunjin… I’m such an idiot!”

Hyunjin can’t contain his giggles. Relief washes over him; you and Jaehyun seemed rather serious and while he wished you well, the thought of you being with someone else always pains him. He knows he’s not allowed to feel that way just because you’re best friends.

Most of the times, he can’t help it.

“He’s a real gentleman and he said he was into me. ME. Everyone would throw themselves at him but he came up to me and I flat out rejected him. What the hell is wrong with me?!”

You’re rolling on your bed, whining and kicking at the air. “I tried not to think about it but… it was just a date? Even if I didn’t end up dating him at least I could tell my grandchildren that I went on a date with Jung Jaehyun!”

“Is he really that great?” Hyunjin asks, out of curiosity but laced with jealousy he hopes you can’t see. His words sound distant to his own ears, triggering his fear of losing you.

“Yeah, I guess?”

You nudge his legs when he doesn’t respond. “How about you? Everything’s fine? You don’t look happy thesedays.”

Hyunjin never lies to you. You have a full access to his heart; he lets you in on his happiest days when life feels like the shiniest summer. He also lets you in even after the messiest thunderstorm when he feels that everything is fucked up. This time, he wants to lock you out. There’s nothing to see, there’s nothing to fix.

His heart is empty—he is empty, and he wants to protect you from the bleakness of it.

“I’m fine, just been arguing with Felix and Minho hyung over the song we’ll perform. It feels too monotone for me, but they think it’s perfect,” he explains, not completely lying. “I don’t know if I’m being selfish but somehow I just can’t let it go.”

“Have you tried explaining to them? Not how you feel, but how the song is. You can always go technical, you don’t need to worry just because Minho is more experienced.”

Hyunjin sighs. “I did, but probably it’s just me.”

“Do you wanna talk things out?” You yawn, squishing Gureum into your chest. “Or do you want to just sleep?”

He glances at the clock. “We both need sleep. It’s almost 3A.M.”

“Alright. Good night—I mean good morning!”

Hyunjin stretches his neck to look at you, your eyes are already closed. He relaxes his body and tries to sleep, but his jumbled mind keeps him awake. Hyunjin waits until you’re fast asleep before scooting closer, softly taking your hand in his before closing his eyes once again. He did it a lot when he was younger, holding your hand until he fell asleep. You nagged at him because it woke you up, but you never told him to stop doing it.

Tonight is no different.

“Hyunjin?”

“Sorry.”

You turn to him, “It’s okay.”

He mumbles a thank you, ready to go to sleep when you move to the mattress. Hyunjin gulps at the close proximity, it’s been too long since you slept on the same bed as him.

“Hyunjin, I missed you.”

Hyunjin heard a theory somewhere: 3.A.M-conversations are the most honest. It’s a little over 3A.M now, and he doesn’t how much of that theory is true, but your words fuel something deep within him. The feeling so strong he has to tear his gaze away from you. Hyunjin slowly pulls you into his arms, patting your back in rhythm with the clock.

He grazes his lips on your shoulder, mouthing his reply quietly, “I missed you too.”

You nod against his chest, pulling your hand out of his grasp so you could circle your arms around his torso.

Hyunjin falls asleep almost immediately, succumbing to the warmth and comfort you radiate.

He’s going to be alright.

“Do you think I’ll ever debut?”

Hyunjin takes off his SOPA jacket, plopping onto the bed while you’re munching on a pack of jelly. “Let me sleep for 10 minutes. I have to go to the company after this.”

You slap his thigh. “Why do you always sleep in my room? If I got a dollar everytime you sabotage my bed I’d be really rich now. Get out, you have practice!”

He reaches for your knee, using it as a pillow. Hyunjin feels you soften as you card your hand through his hair. “Is it hard? Are those mean hyungs still bothering you?”

Hyunjin shakes his head. “Changbin hyung told those motherfuckers to mind their own business.”

“Stop cursing!” you hiss. “It’s not cool, and what if you accidentally curse on broadcast later? You have so much to learn…”

Hyunjin opens his eyes and smiles when he meets your gaze. “Do you think I’ll ever debut?” he repeats his question.

“Have you seen yourself dancing? You’re better than most of the trainees I saw at the open showcase. Plus you have so many girls screaming your name. No offense, but that is definitely a plus point.”

You give his head a little smack when you notice doubt flashing through his orbs. “I believe in you, Hyunjin. Don’t doubt yourself,” you tell him softly. “And if you need someone to give those ‘motherfuckers’ a lesson, just call me. I know some people who can shut them up.”

He lets out an obnoxious gasp. “Are you a gangster now?! Your parents are going to be so disappointed in you. Looks like you have to say goodbye to medical school now…”

You sigh, now it’s your turn to look at Hyunjin with doubt in your eyes. “I’ll get in, right? What if I flunk my results later?”

“This is why I hate smart people,” he bemoans. “You rank first in the whole school, stop saying nonsense.”

Both of you a few more minutes lying in silence. When he waves you goodbye, Hyunjin feels like he can soar.

He’s safe with you, and you’re safe with him.

“Hwang Hyunjin, get off me!”

Hyunjin wakes up to you trying to untangle your legs from his. He catches your flailing legs, removing his before examining your face. “It’s almost noon. Aren’t you running late?” you pester, pointing at the clock.

“Lunch?” he asks.

This is supposed to be awkward. Hyunjin can’t recall what happened a few hours ago before blushing—he’s never been that intimate with you before. You two have had a fair share of platonic cuddle sessions, but last night felt different.

“Not yet,” you mutter. “I just woke up. Oh God my back hurts.”

He wants to know whether you feel the same, but you’ve made your way to the bathroom before he could ask anything. “What do you want to eat?” you yell, almost incoherently due to the toothpaste in your mouth.

“You’re not going to shower?” Hyunjin playfully shrieks.

“It’s my day off!”

“My mom must’ve cooked something. Gimme 10 minutes.”

Although he’s done this at least a hundred times, it’s still hard for Hyunjin to leave home. Seeing his he’s never able to stop his heart getting heavier at the sight of bidding his family goodbye until God knows when.

“Please come home more Y/N,” his mother asks you, raising her eyebrow. “Hyunjin seems to randomly pop up whenever you’re here, so please, come home more.”

You smack his back loudly, causing him to let out a choked groan. “I’ll teach him a lesson, don’t worry.”

Hyunjin gives his mother a sheepish smile, knowing all too well what she meant. He pulls you out before she starts grilling him for information, yelling one last goodbye before closing the door. You search for something inside your bag, stopping him from pressing the elevator button.

“You left something?”

“My dorm key,” you answer, walking back to your own unit. “You should just go,” you say. “It’s in the middle of the day anyways, we shouldn’t be seen together.”

Hyunjin follows you inside, watching you rummage through one of the buffet drawers. He notices how your shoulders are slumped and the way your eyebrows furrow. As his mind wanders to last night once again, you jab at his stomach lightly. “Hey, you’re spacing out.”

“Oh,” is all Hyunjin can say. He takes a good look of you, something he always does before he parts ways with you. Before he can stop himself, Hyunjin has wrapped his arms around you, letting you hear his erratic heartbeat. He still misses you, even after spending the whole night together.

Eventually, you pull away. “I’ll go first.” You ruffle his head. “See you when I see you?”

“See you soon,” he corrects you.

You smile, taking your bag from the floor and when he blinks, you’re gone.

Hyunjin still misses you now, even when you were just in his embrace a few minutes ago, burying your head into the crook of his neck. The empty space in his heart seems to expand whenever he thinks about you.

It hurts.

Minho ends the dance practice and everyone collapses on the floor the moment the music stops playing. Hyunjin immediately restarts the discussion they had before practice started.

“We used to sing both Grow Up and You Can Stay, why do we have to choose one now?” he demands while all of them are sprawled on the floor. “Our fans miss it too, I think it’s the perfect chance to bring it back.”

Chan takes a deep breath, nodding at Hyunjin. “I can’t see why not,” he says with a chuckle. “I don’t even remember why we abandoned it in the first place.”

Hyunjin does, and he knows Chan does too. It was simple, really. The song that once gave them comfort turned into this big monster made out of their worst nightmares. Each member had cried to the song during some of their concerts, and now performing it in front of everyone always brings back the painful memories.

“Yeah, we should sing it again,” Felix adds, kicking Jisung’s leg so the latter would sit up and voice out his opinion. “Well.” Jisung scratches the back of his head, “I’m cool with it.”

The rest of the group mumbles similar answers and Chan claps, giving Hyunjin a thumbs up. “Hyunjinnie is all grown up,” he praises before gathering his things and leaves. Hyunjin snorts at the leader’s compliment, but his sparkly eyes can’t fool anyone.

He pulls out his phone to relay the happy news to you, but the sparks in his eyes quickly fade when his messages from hours ago are still unread.

“What time are we leaving tomorrow?” he asks.

Seungmin checks his phone. “5A.M.”

Hyunjin wipes his sweat, chugging his water. Their American tour starts in a few days, and while he’s ecstatic because they’ll be performing at LA Staples Center for the first time, he also feels uneasy.

He takes out his phone, opening his contacts and stops when he sees your name. He stares at the number he remembers by heart.

“You okay?” Seungmin asks. “If you’re worried about District 9’s formation change, don’t. You nailed it today.”

“District 9…” Hyunjin trails off. “We’re getting too old for District 9.”

Jeongin grunts in agreement. “Whenever we finish my head always spins for like a minute. It’s been too long.”

“Yah,” Seungmin scolds him. “You need to get it checked. What if there’s something wrong with your head?”

The youngest does an exaggerated head banging, earning a kick from the puppy-like boy. Hyunjin chuckles at the two’s antics; some things never really change, and he’s grateful that this is one of those things.

Seungmin throws a playful punch at Jeongin’s stomach one last time before focusing his gaze back on Hyunjin. “Seriously though, did something happen?”

Hyunjin’s brain has a lot of template answers to questions like this, but the cliché words on tip of his tongue feel burning. His friends wait patiently as he fumbles for words, blinking his tears away when he fails to find the right words.

“I don’t even know if there’s anything,” he finally concludes. “It’s just—ever since Bonsang, it’s been hard. It’s been… nothing. Empty.”

Seungmin and Jeongin only nod, as if they understand how he feels. They probably do, Hyunjin thinks. Maybe he’s not the only one. Maybe all of his members have experienced it at some point, although at different times. Hyunjin feels slightly relieved at the thought. I’m not insane.

When he was a trainee, he thought everything would be fine once he debuted. It was, to some extent. But he was young and naïve, and when things beyond his control happened, Hyunjin barely managed to stay afloat. People told him how to handle stress, how to voice out his concerns, how to manage his body, mind and soul. He knew how to survive, theoretically.

No one actually taught him nor the other boys, and for an 18 year-old boy, feelings got intense quickly. After some trials and errors, everyone figured that it was best not to bottle up their feelings. Once again, it sounded easy in theory. In reality, with so many things happening at once, most of them eventually created a space in their own heads to seal everything in. They endured.

Jeongin looks at him with hesitation, rubbing his hands together. “It happens,” he reassures him. “It’s okay to worry about it, hyung. But worry about it with me, please!” Jeongin raises his tone. “You can barge into my room anytime. You can annoy the hell out of me, but stop suffering alone, will you?!”

Seungmin can’t miss the chance to tease the maknae. “Says the one who cried alone all night long in the bathtub after losing his voice.”

“If I hadn’t found you, you would’ve passed out,” Hyunjin adds. Jeongin lifts his hands in defeat. “Whatever. But I meant what I said.”

“Our Jeongin is so dependable,” Hyunjin coos.

“You say that all the time.” Jeongin rolls his eyes. “And then still baby me.”

Seungmin takes Hyunjin’s phone from the floor, passing it to the owner. “Call Y/N.”

Hyunjin panics a little. “Why?”

Seungmin shrugs. “Better days start after meeting the person you want to see the most!”

“Speaking of you and Y/N,” Jeongin quips. “You guys aren’t in high school anymore, stop flirting with each other and date already.”

Hyunjin gets a surge of bravery and dials your number, but immediately regrets his decision with each passing minute. He almost ends the call when you finally answer. “Hyunjin?”

“H-hi,” he stammers. “Busy?”

“Kind of... What? What happened?”

“Can we meet? I only need a couple of minutes. You’re in Seoul, right?”

“I am. Hyunjin, what’s going on? You’re scaring me.”

It’s scaring me too.

“I want to tell you in person. Where are you? I’ll come to you.”

Hyunjin isn’t sure when the lines between best friends and something more started to get blurry. The worse thing is, he realized it way too late and things got complicated before he could do anything about it.

“It’s too late to back out,” he mouths to himself while opening the stairwell door in the hospital you’re currently at. You’re sitting on one of the steps, dozing off as your head hits the wall every now and then.

Hyunjin runs his hand through his hair, guilt consuming him. He sits beside you, pulling your head to his right shoulder. The two of you always attended the same school until high school, when he decided to enroll in SOPA instead of a regular school. Since then, he never really knows what’s going on in your life. You told him about your close friends, the small fights, medical students’ inside jokes, the good looking boys, all the knowledge and experiences you’re grateful for despite the never-ending suffering and constant lack of sleep. You told him everything, but he’s never actually seen you in your world.

You’ve seen enough of his world—you’ve gone to his concerts, awards shows, even fansigns (as a prank because you wanted to see him getting all flustered while pretending not to know you). Hyunjin never has the time or makes an effort to do the same, and while it’s completely understandable due to the nature of his job, he feels like he’s going to lose you.

As he brushes your hair out of your face, Hyunjin asks himself whether he’s good enough for you.

“Whoa,” you suddenly whisper, straightening your body. “Did I fall asleep?”

Hyunjin stops you from getting up. “You must be tired.”

“So are you.” You remove his hand from your head. “So tell me. What’s going on?”

You’re here, sitting beside him, only wanting truth to come out of his mouth. Hyunjin bites his lip, the urge to just let go is eating him up, his soul begging him to get some answers. The familiar hollowness is back, and tears start to roll down his cheeks.

This isn’t the first time he cries in front of you, so you just pat his head, waiting for the tears to stop. “I’m sorry,” he groans. “I’m so sorry Y/N.”

You lift his head, eyes looking straight into his. “What for?” you mutter. “Hyunjin, please tell me.”

Hyunjin makes a silent plead at himself to toughen up, but it’s hard when you’re staring at him like this, wide eyes filled with raw concern and sincerity that never fail to touch the deepest part of his heart. “Hmm?” you prompt, still patting his head ever so softly.

“It’s been hard,” Hyunjin sniffles. “It’s hard to look forward to the future. I feel restless all the time. I have nothing to fight for. It’s…,” He makes gestures with his hand in attempt to explain it better. “… empty.”

You wipe his tears with the sleeve of your white coat. “Do you know why you feel that way?”

Hyunjin nods. “We’re doing well, we really are… and that’s probably why. Everything is going too well I don’t know what thrills me anymore. I thought I’d feel content once I reached all of my dreams, but that’s not the case.”

He examines your face, rehearsing the next lines in his head again and again. You cock an eyebrow, encouraging him to continue. And the last bit of Hyunjin’s defense crumbles with every blink of your pretty eyes.

“And you… I miss you all the time. Even when you’re right here with me, I still miss you. I have to hold back whenever I’m with you because I don’t want you to run away from me. I love you, Y/N. I don’t know when it all started but maybe I’ve always loved you and it hurts me not being able to tell you that. The emptiness… it gets worse whenever you tell me we shouldn’t be seen together or that you have to go or when you have other boys like Jaehyun who are clearly better for you than I am because they can be there for you. I love you so bad you don’t know how hard it is to go through days without you, without kissing you good night, without hearing you laugh for me. I keep thinking, ‘what if you’re suddenly gone?’ Maybe you’ll leave me someday, maybe you’ll tell me that you can’t be my friend anymore, but I need you, Y/N. I love you and I need you here with me to keep going. I—”

Hyunjin watches you slowly—very slowly—retract your hand from his head as words fail him, and he feels as if his guts are being hammered to pieces. He can’t read your eyes, can’t even try to define what your gaze means.

You eventually stand up, pulling him up with you. “I’m not the answer, Hyunjin,” you mutter. “You can’t expect that you’ll never feel empty again once I say that I accept your feelings. It’s just—it’s not fair. This isn’t just about us not being together.”

“But—”

“I know,” you cut him off, your body start shaking due to all the tension. “I know. That’s how you feel, and I can’t dictate you what to feel and not to feel. Think about it like this…”

You pause to check if he’s still listening to you. He nods, weakly.

“… you spent years working your ass off to get recognition from everyone, and you did it. Don’t ever forget that, I’m begging you. So all of your dreams have come true and you feel lost now… it’s okay. You have a lot of time, Hyunjin. You can always have a new dream, you can have a thousand more. Don’t make me the answer to everything just because you haven’t found any other answer.”

You wait for him to respond, but Hyunjin is frozen to his spot. His world is now upside down, and he doesn’t know how long it will take to fix everything.

Your phone rings, snapping him out of his trance. You look at him apologetically. “I have to go.” Those damn words again. “Ask Seungmin to help you ice your face, you don’t want to show up at the airport with swollen eyes, do you? Call me before you take off, okay? Hyunjin?”

He can only nod, trying his best to give you the most reassuring smile. He feels everything all at once: shock, shame, sadness… but mostly regret because you’re right.

You always are.

“Have fun on tour! Send me all the photos you take!”

Now it’s turn for Hyunjin’s phone to ring as you make your way out, leaving him alone. He’s about to press the green button when the door opens once again. Hyunjin lets his phone ring, watching you fidget with your hands.

He’s still pretty much tongue-tied, but forces himself to ask, “Did you ever… love me? As more than friends?”

To his surprise, you take quick steps towards him, tiptoeing to press your lips on his. Your eyes are closed, your hands are tied to your sides and it takes Hyunjin his whole willpower to refrain himself from pulling your body closer, wrapping his arms around you and kissing the life out of you. He closes his eyes and just stands there, accepting whatever you’re willing to give him because there’s nothing he yearns more than your love and trust.

Hyunjin almost whines when you pull away with red cheeks and teary eyes. “Come back to me when you’re ready. I’ll wait for you. Only you.”

It’s Hyunjin’s 10th (or 11th? He can’t really remember) visit to New York, but he’s still as excited as a kid with his lollipop. After years of traveling from country to country, Hyunjin realizes that he just doesn’t get bored, ever. Each place holds a special memory he keeps close to his heart, something sentimental that motivates him to go back every chance he gets.

“Stand there,” he motions at Seungmin—the only one who’s willing to accompany him walking around the Empire State Building for the nth time—to stand at the spot he points at. Seungmin follows his instruction, smiling when Hyunjin starts counting. They examine the result and Seungmin shoves his leg. “I guess you finally learned something.”

Hyunjin feigns hurt, setting his camera’s focus on a group of kids, holding his breath before pressing the shutter. “As if you taught me anything.”

He glances at his bandmate who’s busy taking photos with his own camera. Photo hunting with Seungmin is always in Hyunjin’s “limited free time” itinerary. They’ve strolled around so many cities together, sometimes it takes the whole day if time allows them. Strangely, Seungmin never gets bored of it either and although it’s no surprise since he loves photography more than anything else, Hyunjin is grateful.

“You never say no whenever I ask you to take photos with me,” Hyunjin states. “Why?”

Seungmin frowns. “What kind of question is that?”

“Just wondering,” Hyunjin mumbles. “We do pretty much the same thing everytime. Sometimes I force you to go to the places we’ve been to… don’t you get bored?”

“It’s always different everytime, I thought that’s why sometimes you take photos at the same place? It’s never exactly the same, don’t you think?”

Hyunjin goes through the photos he took in New York last year, smiling at some of them as he recalls the funny anecdotes behind them. When he slips his phone back into his jeans pocket and lets his eyes wander… yes, nothing is exactly the same.

“You truly are a photographer. When’s your next exhibition, Photographer Kim?”

Seungmin snaps his finger. “Ah! Exhibition! I forgot to ask you, why don’t we held a joint exhibition this time?”

“You want to show your photos along with my photos?”

“Why not? Yours are amazing too! And you’re my best friend, it’ll be fun.”

Hyunjin imagines having his photo framed on the wall. Small placards pinned underneath, containing the words he constructs to explain each of them. The fans will come to feel how it feels like to be here behind the lens. Maybe people who don’t even know him will come too, and get a chance to actually know him.

He reaches his phone to relay the idea to you, smiling to himself when he finds messages from you instead.

y/n: [sends a picture]

y/n: ahreum finally woke up today! isnt she pretty?

me: everyone is prettier than you

me: you must be happy!!

y/n: ??????

y/n: oh. she asked me to recommend boygroup songs

y/n: i made her listen to every single skz song

y/n: and your solo songs!!!!

me: awwwwwww

me: and you cant be doing this for free right?

“Is that your best friend slash girlfriend?” Seungmin is suddenly standing behind him, reading over his shoulder. “You guys are so cute it’s making me feel sick.”

Hyunjin sighs, gazing at the busy street upon him. “We’re not dating. At least not yet.”

“What happened? Just realized that I never really asked.”

“She asked me to come to her when I’m ready.”

Seungmin looks at him quizzically, but decides not to press him further. “Are you ready now?”

They’re flying back to Seoul next week, and while he thought he wouldn’t be able to enjoy the tour, he truly did. He thinks of all the good things that have happened: the sold out shows, the happy tears, his improvement, the upcoming exhibition with Seungmin, and lastly, you—the one who’s patiently waiting for him.

There have been a lot of times when Hyunjin feels like he’s everywhere but nowhere at the same time. It sounds scary, but now he realizes that he only needs to admit that he’s indeed everywhere, but never nowhere.

“Almost.”

The instrumental of Grow Up starts to play and all the boys rush back to their designated positions. The atmosphere turns a bit more sentimental as the bridge approaches, they’re just looking at each other while Minho is singing his part. In the past, they often teased each other during this very part, afraid that they would break down if they let their emotions overtake them. Hyunjin averts his gaze to the audience, watching the beautiful color of their lightsticks light up the huge stadium. As he gestures at some of the fans to stop crying, Hyunjin thanks himself for convincing the others to add the song back to their setlist.

The song comes to an end, and Chan gathers everyone to make a circle. Hyunjin feels pats on his head and back, Chan’s voice drowned by the fans who are still singing. He can’t resist the urge to turn around, so he does just that, and what he won’t trade what he sees for anything.

Their fans are standing there, eyes focused on everyone on stage as they sing each syllable perfectly. Changbin follows his gaze, and soon all of them are facing the audience again, listening to every wish, every hope, and every message relayed through the lyrics of the song.

Hyunjin lifts his mic, eyes darting to Chan who gives him a nod of approval. “Thank you,” he begins. “This is our last stop for this tour, and I can’t be any prouder and thankful to all of you.”

He lets the translator translate his speech before continuing, “I had a lot of worries before the tour started. I honestly thought I wouldn’t be able to go through everything.”

“You made our dreams come true,” Hyunjin continues. “You made my dreams come true and I naively thought that was the end of everything. But I learned a lot during this tour, and once again, you made this happen. All the pretty words you told us, they mean a lot. They always will. I realized that this will always be my dream, no matter how many times this has come true. I want to make you, who stay with us throughout everything, happy. I want to be here for a very long time. I want to be with you, to be with the members and our family, for a very long time.”

He stops when he feels he can’t continue anymore, letting the others take the spotlight. He gives each of his bandmates with a loving gaze, stopping at Minho who lets tears roll down his cheeks this time. Jeongin is giggling beside him, walking over to wrap the tsundere hyung in a firm hug.

Hyunjin thinks they’ve really come a long way.

Being back home usually gives Hyunjin a peace of mind, but when he sees no notification on his phone, he feels weird. He dials his mother’s number, his heart grows even more anxious when she picks up.

“Oh Hyunjin-ah, did you just land?”

“Yeah.”

“Can you come over here? Or do you have an important schedule?”

“No, we get 2 days off. What’s going on?”

“Y/N’s sister passed away. Sorry we didn’t tell you sooner, we didn’t want you to panic.”

“Eomma! How could you?”

“I’m sorry. This is Y/N’s request as well. She’s been here for 2 days and no one can make her eat anything. Can you take her home?”

“I’ll be there soon.”

“You’re going to live in Germany! You’re such a lucky kid!”

The little girl smiles bashfully as you pout at her. “The luckiest girl on Earth,” you add, fixing her messy hair.

“If you’re so jealous of me, why don’t you come along?”

“Are you kidding?” you exclaim. “I’m on my way to be the greatest doctor in this country. You can’t change my mind.”

“Alright, it’s time to go,” your father interrupts, giving you one last hug before whispering things into your ear. Hyunjin steps back to allow you say goodbye to your family, tearing up at the painful sight. Your father, a doctor, accepts an offer to work in a hospital in Germany and takes the whole family with him since your sick little sister needs more intensive treatment.

But you’re staying to become a great doctor like your father, hoping you’ll get a chance to cure your sister later.

“Please take care of her, Hyunjin. We trust you,” your mother tells him. Hyunjin nods, enveloping your hand in his. “Don’t worry, I’ll be here monitoring her every move and drag her back home whenever she spends too much time at the academy.”

Your sister laughs, bowing to Hyunjin. “I also want a boyfriend like Hyunjinoppa! Please take care of our unnie.”

You yank your hand away from him. “He’s not my boyfriend!”

Hyunjin seems unbothered by your statement, bowing to your family to annoy you more. “Our family will take care of her, you can trust us.”

Your sister’s smiling face greets Hyunjin as he enters the funeral home. He stares at the photo then closes his eyes to pray, whispering strings of apologies that’s always too late. I’m sorry I never visited you. I’m sorry I failed to take care of your sister. I’m sorry I didn’t call you enough.

He bows to your family, the first bow since years ago, and he wishes he could turn back time. Hyunjin turns to you, gazing into your tired eyes. Your mother pulls him towards you. “She hasn’t eaten at all. Can you please bring her home, Hyunjin? I hope you’re not too busy. I’m sorry that we meet like this.”

“Hyunjin just landed in Seoul. How could you force him to come here?” you snap, returning his gaze. “Go home. I’ll call you later.”

Hyunjin almost yells in frustration, but swallows everything before dragging you out, only tightening his grip on your wrist when you try to pry his hand off of you. You keep shouting at him, yelling at him to stop, but Hyunjin doesn’t budge. He drags you all the way to his car, opening the passenger door for you.

“Get in the car, Y/N.”

Without waiting for you to move, he lifts your body and sits you down, fastening your seatbelt. “Please don’t push me away,” he pleads. “Why do you always tell me go home, go back to practice, to leave… why?! I promised your parents to take care of you. I promised your sister, why aren’t you letting me do that?!”

“I never asked you to do that,” you mutter through gritted teeth, causing Hyunjin to grip your shoulders.

“You only said that to hurt me,” he replies. “Even now you’re still trying to push me away. I want to be here Y/N. Don’t you want me here?”

You avoid his eyes, keeping your gaze on your clasped hands. “Tell me,” Hyunjin challenges. “Tell me that you don’t want me to stay with you, and I’ll leave.”

He waits for you to respond, letting out a relieved sigh he doesn’t bother hiding when you shake your head. “Want you here. Thank you.”

“Have you cried?”

After your sister was born, you were told not to shed tears in front of her. Your parents always scolded you if you started crying when you saw her in pain, and after some time, it became a habit. A habit that Hyunjin absolutely despises since it makes you suppress your feelings, as if punishing you for having feelings.

“I don’t know… maybe I haven’t.”

“You lost your sister, you can cry. Your parents cried a lot too, it’s fine.”

You nod, resting your head in the crook of his neck when tears start to well up. Hyunjin presses a kiss on your temple, finding himself tearing up the moment you start sobbing, something he has never witnessed although he’s known you for almost his whole life.

“Is this your Armani suit?” you manage to voice in the middle of sobs and snorts. He takes you into his embrace, chuckling, “Yes, but you can ruin it however you want. Another privilege as my best friend.”

“Can I abuse this privilege?”

“Ruining my expensive suits?”

“No,” you laugh airily. “Crying when you’re with me.”

Hyunjin cups your wet cheeks, gently pushing your hands away when you want to wipe your tears away. “Anytime. You can cry, laugh, curse, get angry, get drunk… you can do anything when you’re with me.”

And that’s all it takes before you start sobbing into his suit again. Hyunjin is standing there for the longest time, sandwiched by the passenger seat and door of his car with you in his arms. He doesn’t care, he will do it all over again, and he will do much more. For you, and only you.

“Where are you? It’s past midnight already!”

“Hwang Hyunjin, you’re lucky I’m willing to go home when I have a morning shift tomorrow,” you scold him over the phone.

“It’s my birthday! Wait, it isn’t even my birthday anymore!” he whines in an obnoxious tone that never fails to upset you. He giggles when he hears you huff, the sound of the elevator signaling that you’ve already arrived.

“You asked me to buy you a cake right before I left,” you hiss. “Now open the door, I’m outside.”

The call ends and Hyunjin rushes to the door. You’re carrying the red velvet cake he requested, the candles already lit and Hyunjin tries not to melt at the way you look at him. He did ask you to buy him a cake and “surprise” him at your apartment, but he is nowhere near ready to see you like this: all smiley and cheery for him despite sounding annoyed over the phone.

“Happy birthday,” you sing song, your smile growing wider as he blows the candle. Hyunjin returns your smile before taking the cake from you, pulling you towards your room. “Go get changed, I’ll slice the cake for you.”

A few minutes later, both of you are seated on your couch, talking about every little thing while enjoying the cake. Hyunjin tells you about Stray Kids’ upcoming comeback, a very special one since Minho choreographed the title track. You tell him about various cases that happened in the hospital while wondering if you’ll ever finish medical school and actually be a doctor.

Everything feels the way Hyunjin expects it to be, until you put your empty plate on the table and look at him straight in the eyes. “Hyunjin…”

He quickly swallows and places his plate on the table as well, never breaking eye contact with you. “What?”

You gulp. “Do you remember when I asked you to come find me when you’re ready?”

“Feels like yesterday.”

“Well,” you murmur. “I’m just wondering if you’re… ready.”

Fire lights up in his stomach, and before you can continue, Hyunjin is already trapping you between his body and the couch. “I am,” he says. “Are you?”

You brush his fringe with your fingers. “You were waiting for me?”

“You told me to start dreaming again, so I did,” Hyunjin recalls. “And I realized that all of my dreams are right in front of me—you, my family, the hyungs, Jeongin, the fans… keeping you guys with me is something I’ll always dream of although all of you are already here.”

You pout at him, but Hyunjin doesn’t miss the proud gleam in your eyes. “Then what’s taking you so long?”

He pinches your nose. “I waited for you to be ready, as you said before, it wasn’t just about us being together. I don’t want you to choose me only because you feel like you need me. I want you to… want me… to love me with a clear head. Just like what you wanted me to do. I want to give you the world, but only if you allow me to.”

You circle your arms around his neck, sighing happily, “You gave me the world, Hyunjin. You listen to me, you console me, you give me a shoulder to cry on. You’re the only one I’ve ever waited for, and I’m so glad that you came back to me.”

Hyunjin is sure that his whole system has stopped working, the words you just uttered feel like the strongest, yet the sweetest liquor he’s ever tasted. He is drunk on the love you offer; he’s drunk on your touch, your smile and everything you want to give him. You’re driving him nuts, completely nuts, but it’s the only thing he wants to feel. You are the only one he yearns to feel.

You seem to sense his burning gaze and start nibbling on your bottom lip. “So this is the part where you kiss me…”

“This is the part where I kiss you…”

You shake your head. “This feels weird. You’re my best friend.”

“You kissed me,” Hyunjin reminds you. “It’s not like we’ve never done it before.”

“No, but—” You pause to let yourself breathe. “I kissed you. This is different, I’m not going to survive you kissing me.”

“For the love of God Y/N, just—”

You point at your lips. “And I still have my lipgloss on!”

Hyunjin is caressing your reddening cheek now, trying to destroy the last bit of your defense. “And what’s wrong with that?” he asks softly.

“It’s sticky! Our lips will get stuck and it won’t be romantic.”

“So what do you want to do? Go into your room and wipe it off with a cotton pad or something?”

“Yeah, let’s do—”

Hyunjin doesn’t let you finish as he finally dives in, capturing your lips in a searing kiss that set both of you on fire. He hums when he feels your body relax in his hold, allowing him to savor you with so much longing and want. Hyunjin lets his heart take the lead, kissing you harder whenever you tug the ends of his hair and making him putty under your touch. It never feels enough, it feels like he only gets hungrier everytime you return his kiss, the feeling of your lips moving against his almost destroys him.

Nothing is stopping him now, he came back to you and you welcomed him with open arms. Hyunjin leaves one more open mouthed kiss on your lips before pulling away with a loud pop, taking in the sight of you trying to breathe. You slowly meet his eyes with flushed cheeks, eyes mirroring his own and Hyunjin tries to remember every single detail. “God I love you so much,” he hears himself whisper.

You smile, lifting your hand to trace his face delicately. “I love you.”

“Are you mine now?” Hyunjin knows this is childish, but he wants to hear it. He longs to hear it.

Thankfully, you’re willing to play his game tonight. “Only yours.”

“No more mourning over Jung Jaehyun?”

“Jesus Christ, do you need to stoop that low.”

“Yes.” Hyunjin pecks your nose. “He doesn’t listen to K-pop, right? Introduce him to me.”

You roll your eyes. “I love you, why the hell are we talking about Jaehyun now?”

“Then what should we talk about?”

“Since we’re on a competition to ruin the mood, lemme burst your bubble: my parents are moving back in next week so we need another place to do... this.”

“Okay,” Hyunjin answers. “What are we gonna do now?”

You wrap your legs around his torso, making him gasp. “I don’t know, kiss me again? I’m gonna tell you this just once, but I, along with thousands of other people, have always wanted to kiss you. It made me feel pathetic, but it is what it is.”

Hyunjin blushes, but refuses to lose to you. “You tried to make me not kiss you a few minutes ago and now you’re desperate to kiss me. Was I that good?”

“Hmmm I guess so,” you hum.

He swiftly lifts your body, grinning when you tighten your hold around his neck. “Well, I’m yours to kiss now,” he teases, trying to walk into room without knocking into things. You leave soft kisses all over his face, prompting Hyunjin to walk faster so he could just kiss you already.

When your back hit your bed, Hyunjin stops to admire your face. “I kissed you a long time ago, don’t you remember?”

Your eyes widen. “You? Kissed me? With those plush lips? When?!”

“You don’t remember? But it was our first kiss!”

You spend the next few minutes racking your brain before nodding. “Ah, it did happen a long time ago.”

“It’s okay, maybe you wanted to forget that moment. It was your darkest time, and I probably shouldn’t have done that.”

Shaking your head, you run your thumb along his lip. “Thank you for staying with me all these years.”

Hyunjin closes the gap between you once again, hoping to chase away all the sorrow inside your soul. You pull him closer, making him practically lying on top of you, feeling your chest rise with each touch of his lips on your skin. “Thank you,” a kiss on each of your eye, “for,” a kiss on the tip of your nose, “making me,” a kiss on your lips—this time he lets it linger, “dream,” a kiss on your chin, “again,” and a kiss on your neck.

It took Hyunjin so long to understand the world, and now he still hasn’t understood even half of it. But in the middle of his journey, he met you. He learned to dream, he learned to love you.

And he learned to love himself.

The door opens with a bang, revealing an incredibly panicked Hyunjin. He just finished training when he received a call from you, who said nothing but, “I won’t let you walk home alone.” You wouldn’t end the call throughout his way home, but refused to say anything else and almost making Hyunjin dash to the police station.

Hyunjin sees your shadow, letting out a small scream when he spots you lying on the floor in the dark. He runs to you, about to carry you back into your room when you stop him. “I feel like crying,” you rasp, choking on your saliva. “I can’t stop it.”

It’s been a month since your family left, and while you’re trying your best to be a big girl and live the way you always do, it’s not easy. Hyunjin lies beside you, eyes locked on the tears rolling down your cheeks. You never cry loudly. You never sob nor wail. You just cry silently, mostly in the dark so you can’t see yourself crying.

Hyunjin takes your hand in his, hovering over you before tracing your tears with his lips as if it can stop them. He pecks every wet spot, slowly getting to your lips. He leaves a chaste, barely-there kiss before wrapping his arms around you, whispering comforting things until you start falling asleep on the hard floor.

Hyunjin hopes you’ll allow yourself to cry however you wish to someday.

a/n: i was so happy writing this that i almost cried when i finished because i know i’m going to miss writing this one. this story feels so sentimental, happy and sad at the same time and probably that’s why i feel so attached to it. ive wanted to write this since last year, even before “give my heart a chance”. i always wondered what would happen after we reach our dreams and i hope you’ll feel a little better after reading this (especially if you’re experiencing the same thing). this story is a long journey, but i hope you’ll enjoy it.

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logical-little-lies · 4 years ago

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{Chapter Three- Not A Baby}//Soft, Cute, and Far Smarter Than You (Sanders Sides Agere/CGLRE)

A/N: Before we begin with this chapter, I want to show some art that @english-chips made for this fic! The first one is inspired by the last chapter, logan the science kid!

And this next one is based off of Teenspace!Logan (which is officially introduced in this chapter). Don't ask about the braces, that gets tied into the story later.

Anyways, enjoy the chapter!! feel free to leave comments/send asks (Wattpad/Tumblr) with any questions you have or your reactions+thoughts on the chapter/story in general! I also wanted to credit the people from my discord server for a lot of the ideas used throughout this fic, so I will probably be repeating this a lot bc they’re creative and help me a lot when it comes to this story!

"I mean, I personally only really go to baby and toddler ages. From less than one to five. But you're still figuring your range out, right?" Virgil was talking to Logan as they washed the dishes. Virgil and Logan were getting into the habit of mentioning age regression related things in normal conversations, so they could normalize it even when they weren't in the headspace.

"I guess so. There's sometimes where I don't feel little, but I'm not exactly an adult either? I don't know how to explain it." Logan was honest with him, taking the plate he handed to him and putting it into the dishwasher.

"Maybe you're a middle?" Virgil suggested.

"Middle?" Logan repeated him, a confused tone laced in his voice.

"A middle is someone who regresses to pre-teen and teenage ages. It's still regression by definition as long as it's younger then your bio age," Virgil explained, rinsing out a bowl before handing it to him.

"I didn't know that was a thing. I sorta thought age regression was just baby, toddler, and young kid. I never really considered the fact that people might regress to an older age then that..." he trailed off.

"I don't know a ton about middles, or middlespace, but I know that some just find comfort in acting younger. That doesn't always mean a cute baby voice and stuffed animals, that can mean video games and they're old favorite books. Whatever makes you most comfortable." Virgil shrugged, using a sponge to scrub at a plate.

"That's kinda cool, actually. Um...anyways, what did you do today?" Logan changed the subject, keeping the term in mind. The idea that he could regress, but just to teenage years, made sense to him. He felt as if he might've been in that headspace before.

He'd want someone to look after him, but only to a certain extent. He'd be moody and get frustrated easier, he would want to indulge in old dorky hobbies, like video games or reading comic books. When he got like that, he told himself he was just being immature, and that he wasn't little, because it wasn't the same feeling. But now, knowing that regressing to teenage ages was a thing, he'd have to rethink things and maybe let himself indulge in this new feeling.

Not bad, just different.

"Good morning, Logan!" Patton knocked on Logan's door, waiting to hear a reply before opening it.

"Morning, come in." he remarked simply, seemingly distracted by something.

"Virgil isn't little right now, but as always, I just wanted to check up on you to check if you were." Patton closed the door behind him, coming over to Logan's bed and sitting down.

"I'm not little," he replied quickly, flipping a page in whatever he was reading. Upon closer inspection, it was a comic book. When Logan saw Patton looking at it, he shut it and pulled it closer to him. "Can you get out of my room? I'm busy." he said, speaking in a very annoyed tone.

Patton looked shocked, and a bit hurt. "Oh, I'm sorry. Yeah, I'll leave. Um, breakfast will be ready soon, let me know if you need anything..." he got up, going to leave when Logan spoke.

"Sorry for being rude, or whatever. I didn't mean to make you sad." he promised, speaking softer and in an apologetic way.

"It's alright, Logan. Are you feeling okay?"

"Why wouldn't I be, I'm fine?" he questioned.

"You're acting a bit..different? It's not bad!" Patton defended quickly before explaining himself, seeing Logan's skeptical look, "You're just...acting younger? But not quite little, y'know?" he tried to explain what he was thinking, but it was difficult.

"Patton! Come help me do this!" Roman called Patton from the kitchen before Logan go the chance to respond. Maybe Logan should've told his carer that he had a teenspace before going into it. Right after he heard about it from Virgil, connecting the dots was easy. So letting himself do what he wanted, and act slightly 'immature' was easier, because he knew it wasn't some weird thing. It was just a part of his personal regression.

But just because he accepted it himself, didn't quite mean that he wanted to explain it to his caregiver. Once Patton was gone, he made a motion with his hand and the door slammed shut.

You'd think he wouldn't break his own rule, but a lot of things you wouldn't expect were happening recently. Logan made a rule for the core sides, avoid using powers (both summoning and physical) because apparently it made them more "realistic". He had claimed that if they lived a life that was closer to an actual persons, in a mind palace designed to mimic the real world, they'd understand Thomas's problems and emotions more.

Roman hated those rules, and the fact that creating the realistic town and staying there sort of made it so that he couldn't escape to the mindscape for fantasy adventures. Logan even went so far as to make it so they got a limited allowance each week, as pay for doing your job for Thomas. Big Logan managed this whole system, but he said that if they just continued to be able to buy things without limited money, there was no point in trying to live more like people.

He groaned, shutting the comic book and abandoning it on his bed. He went over to his closet, looking inside of it for something to wear. Some things were to adult, and some things were to childish. He didn't have anything for in between, and that was frustrating. He almost considered summoning something for himself, when he was actually fourteen, they still lived in their separate rooms and just summoned things they wanted or needed.

He knew that he shouldn't, if he starts breaking his own rules regularly, then everyone else will and it'll be chaos. He looked through the part of his closet that had pajama shirts. Most of these were random t-shirts with graphic designs that adult Logan would never wear in front of the others (without the excuse of "it's an old shirt that I kept for sleeping."). He found a dark gray shirt that said "Game On", with a white game controller on it. He deemed it acceptable and he tossed it over to his bed, looking for jeans to go with it.

"Aha!" he cheered when he finally found simple dark blue jeans, taking the outfit and disappearing into his bathroom.

"You said that he's acting weird? Is he small and trying to hide it?" Roman suggested, passing Patton a plate to set on the table. Virgil was serving the food, dividing it between their plates.

"No, I don't think so? He said he wasn't little, but he just seemed really annoyed and...I don't know." Patton seemed confused, taking the cluttery Roman handed him and going around the table, setting it down. Patton was the one who suggested that they start eating breakfast, along with other meals together when possible. It was common that someone would skip out on famILY meals, but that didn't meal he wouldn't put the effort in to made the meals for everyone.

"You think he's just stressed and he needs to regress?" Virgil spoke up, setting a bottle of syrup on the table.

"I don't think he was stressed, just annoyed."

No one got the chance to reply because Logan came down the stairs, clad in a dorky t-shirt, dark blue jeans, and a beanie. Virgil seemed to have a realization upon seeing him.

"Hello?" he broke the silence after a few seconds, "Why is everyone staring at me?"

"Oh, um..." Patton spoke first, trying to come up with an excuse.

"Did I walk in on you guys talking about me?" he immediately questioned with suspicion.

"pshh! No, surely not!" Roman lied, Logan giving him a look.

"Hey, Logan? How old are you, like mentally, right now?" Virgil asked hesitantly, Patton seeming confused.

"He already said that he wasn't little?" he restated, looking over at Logan, who blushed a bit.

"I never said that I wasn't regressed at all..." he trailed off, stratching the back of his head awkwardly before looking at Virgil. "And um, fourteen." he replied quickly, shuffling over to the table and taking a seat.

"Oh! Why didn't you tell me that when I asked you if you were little?" Patton asked, taking his seat next to Logan.

"Because I'm not little. Little is like, baby and toddler, y'know? I'm just...not an adult for now." he explained, not looking at his caregiver much.

"Oh...I didn't even know your range went that far, sweetheart." Patton seemed to be processing this, lightly grabbing his fork as Roman and Virgil took their seats.

"Sorry I didn't tell you, Dad." he apologized quickly, starting to eat his food.

Patton smiled, both from the fact that Logan called him "dad" while he wasn't six years old, and as a source of comfort. "It's alright, Lo." he assured. Logan gave him a little awkward smile, going back to eating.

"So...what is everyone planning on doing today? I'll probably work on brainstorming for Thomas's next project." Roman tried to start a conversation.

"I'll probably just chill, I finished the work I had to do yesterday." Virgil replied, looking to Patton and Logan to talk next.

"I might play video games, or watch something. I don't know," Logan shrugged a bit.

"Have you ever really been in teenspace before? Do you know what you want to do?" Patton asked in curiosity.

"I..um," he paused, thinking. "I kinda have been before, but I thought it was weird so I pushed it down..."

"Regressing to teenage ages is not weird, at all! I actually think it's fitting for you, because you can regress without having to be babyish, which is what you're most shy about when you do go little!" Patton immediately defended, Logan holding back a small smile.

"I knowwww, but I thought this was just me being immature. Not like, a part of my regression. It feels different then when I'm a toddler or a kid." he explained, seeming like he didn't want to be talking about this. He'd felt like a teenager, and addressing the fact that he was simply just thinking like one made him second guess him choice to allow himself to go into that headspace.

"Okay, okay. Would you like me to spend the day with you, sweetheart?" Patton offered. Logan quickly shook his head in rejection.

"Nope, I'm good. Actually, I'm gonna head back to my room now." he scooted his chair back, standing up before pushing it in.

"Bye, Logan!" Roman called after him. Logan didn't respond, but you could hear his door shut from upstairs. Patton simply pushed his plate forwards, putting his head down on the table in his arms.

"You good there, padre?" Roman questioned.

"I'm fine, kiddo." he replied weakly.

"Hey, kiddo! I just wanted to check on you," Patton knocked on Logan's door, opening it after a few moments. Logan wasn't on his bed, so he shut the door and found the boy at his desk. There was sort of a dip in the wall where his desk inserted, perfectly fitting. There was white shelving above the desk, with mostly books on it. Under the desk, there was a portable dresser with black and gray drawers.

He was watching youtube on his laptop, leaning back in his office chair with headphones on. Patton realized Logan didn't hear him, tapping on his shoulder. Logan flinched, quickly pulling his headphones off. "Helloooo? What's up?" he questioned, reaching forward and pausing his video.

"I just wanted to check on you, that's all." Patton replied, coming closer to him and standing behind his chair.

"Well, I'm fine. Just watching youtube," he shrugged, motioning to his screen.

Patton read over the channel name, along with the video title. "Markiplier, who's that?" he asked.

"Just a youtuber, dad. Do you need something?" Logan reached forward, shutting his laptop and looking up at Patton.

"Not really. I just wanted to know what you've been up too,baby."

"I'm not a baby." Logan replied simply, sounding a little annoyed.

"But you're my baby," Patton teasingly. Logan's face went pink, and he gave a mostly-playful glare. Patton was glad he was getting him to be playful to some extent, because so far it felt like Logan just wanted to isolate himself while in this headspace.

If he was going to be Logan's caregiver, he wanted to know at least a little bit about how Logan acts in each part of his headspace, so he knows how best to care for him. But it currently seemed like Logan didn't want any care.

"No, I'm a teenager. Not a babyyy," he whined, not in a baby voice, but in a 'dad you're embarrassing me please stop' type of voice.

"Yeah, yeah, okay. I'll stop teasing you." Patton smiled at him. Logan crossed his arms, but both of them knew he wasn't actually upset.

"Are you sure you don't want to go watch a movie in the living room or something? You said you might play video games, I know you can't do much on your laptop." Patton was silently pleading to spend some time with him, but Logan shook his head.

"I think I'll stick with Markiplier vids. But I'll see you at dinner!" he reminded, which did cheer Patton up a bit. Patton nodded.

"Alright, Littl-" Logan gave him a look, "Not little. Uh, bye Logan!" he corrected somewhat awkwardly, leaning down to kiss Logan's forehead quickly before leaving. Logan rolled his eyes, slowly opening his computer back up. He pressed the space bar button, and readjusted his headphones on his ears before leaning back in his seat.

Maybe this wasn't so bad after all.

"Dinner's ready, baby." Patton peeked his head into Logan's room, to see him watching something on Netflix at his desk.

"Kay, Dad. I'll be down in a sec," he replied, without missing a beat. "Also, not a baby."

"Alright, sorry Lo. Just head down soon, okay?"

Logan nodded,already starting to pause his show and log out of everything. Patton gave a slight smile, leaving his door open and heading back down stairs.

"So...how's teenage Logan?" Roman asked quickly as he came downstairs, already sitting down for dinner. Virgil looked at Patton.

"He keeps getting embarrassed when I call him baby. But I think he's good, he seemed pretty content with just hanging out in his room and doing whatever." Patton replied, pulling out his chair to take a seat.

"Oh, Logan! Hey!" Roman called when he saw Logan entering the kitchen. He held his phone in his hand.

"Hey. What are we having?" he asked, pulling his chair out and sitting next to Patton, as usual. He glanced down at his phone screen and tapping it a few times. Virgil came and sat some containers on the table. "Oh, spaghetti. Question answered."

"Can you put your phone down at the dinner table, sweetheart? Dinner is time for us to spend time as a family," Patton tapped his shoulder softly, instructing him to turn it off. Logan rolled his eyes, shutting off his phone and hovering it an inch above the table before dramatically dropping it. The attitude wasn't appreciated, but at least he listened.

"So..Logan, what did you do today?" Roman asked after a few moments of silence, reaching forward to server himself some food. He grabbed a piece or garlic bread at Logan started to respond.

"I watched Youtube and Netflix." he replied, quickly loading his plate with food. He seemed somewhat tense, like he wanted to leave.

"That's cool! What did you watch on Youtube and Netflix?" Virgil asked. Virgil was picking up on Roman's tactic of asking simple questions to hopefully start a conversation.

"Markiplier and The Floor is Lava." Logan kept going like this to every curious question they had, responding in short sentences before going back to eating. Soon enough, his plate was clear and he attempted to leave.

"You didn't even ask to be excused, young man. Sit back down." Patton instructed, Logan immediately listening and sinking back into his chair.

"C-can I go?" he asked, looking at Patton with a nervous look now. He didn't mean to upset him, he just wanted to go back to his room and be by himself again. This was a new headspace for him, and being around other people for long periods of time made him anxious. What if he did something stupid? What if they thought he was weird?

Patton didn't mean to scare him, so he softened up his face before talking again. "How about you tell us about your day, sweetie?"

Logan shifted from nervous to annoyed in maybe two seconds. "I've already told you everything! I watched Netflix and Youtube. There's nothing to talk about, dad!" he snapped, grabbing his phone from the table. Patton's eyes went wide, he definitely did not expect Logan to snap at him.

"Hey, kiddo..." he spoke softly to the annoyed regressor, who just want an escape. Logan took a few breaths while Virgil and Roman watched in silence. Patton hesitantly put his hand on Logan's arm in a simple attempt to comfort him. "Why don't you just walk me through what you did after breakfast, whatever you remember?" Logan looked at him now, nodding. He seemed a bit nervous, he did not mean to snap or shout or anything. But it seemed as if Patton wasn't upset with him.

He thought back to that morning, beginning the story. "So I went up to my room after breakfast. I read comic books for a little bit, and then-"

"What did you read about?" Roman interrupted. This didn't seem to annoy Logan, just shock him. He wanted to hear about whatever dorky comic book he had read? The last of dinner went on like that, Logan walking through his day up until the meal, and the other three inturrupting to ask curious questions.

Logan would go on side rambles about whatever it was. A question as to what The Floor Is Lava was about lead him into a ramble about how the game works. But no one else minded, because learning about this part of Logan, neither a baby, nor completely big, was really nice. Every few minutes, he'd stop his rambling, and ask if someone else wanted to talk.

But every single time, they'd share a few thoughts and assure that they didn't mind his excited rambling. He revealed that he also watched documentaries and information youtube videos, so he started sharing a bunch of random facts.

The anxiousness, the awkwardness, and even the extreme want to go away, faded as they encouraged him to keep dorkily discussing his favorite teen-ish things to do.

They hoped teenage Logan would come back again sometime soon.

#ts agere #logan agere #littlelogan #lillogan #little logan #middlespacelogan #middlelogan #middle logan #teenage regressor logan #cg patton #cgpatton #logicality slowburn #logicality agere

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blakeylikestowrite · 4 years ago

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I don’t want a soulmate. (Prinxiety Oneshot)

Fandom: Sanders Sides Pairing(s): Prinxiety Word count: 2,893 Summary: Virgil isn't very fond of the whole soulmates thing. His parents are expecting his soulmate to be a woman but Virgil knows better. But he isn't ready to tell them. Naturally when he meets his soulmate, he tries to push him away. Warnings: small mention of an anxiety attack Genre(s): Fluff, a little bit of Angst AU(s): Human AU, Soulmate AU (the one with the tattoos that say what the first thing your soulmate will say to you)

Virgil was sitting on his bed just staring at his wrist. He knew he was going to meet his soulmate eventually. But he really didn't want to. His parents were obsessed with this whole soulmate thing. They were contiously asking him if he had finally met "her". Not once did they consider his soulmate might be a man. He wasn't so sure if they would be as excited as they currently were if they found out that his soulmate wasn't a woman. Virgil didn't like having a soulmate. He wasn't sure whether that was because his parents were annoyingly obsessed with this mystery person he had yet to meet or that he wasn't ready to come out as gay. He spent more time staring at the black words on his wrist than he'd like to admit. He seriously didn't want to meet his soulmate. But at the same time he couldn't help wondering what kind of person he was. "Sweetie! Time for school!", his mom called from downstairs. Virgil got up from his bed and picked up his backpack. "Coming!", he replied. He took his time going downstairs. He wished his parents a good morning and hurriedly made himself a sandwich, so he could eat on the way to the bus stop. "I'm leaving now. See you later.", he let his parents know and hit the road. Today was one of those days again. He wished he could have just stayed in bed. When he was close enough to the bus stop to be able to see it, the bus was already there. "Shit...", Virgil muttered to himself and started sprinting towards the bus. He almost made it in time. Almost. When he arrived at the bus stop the bus' doors closed. Virgil watched the bus drive away. "Of fucking curse. Just my fucking luck.", Virgil cursed. He sat down on a bench. After all, all he could do was wait for the next bus. He saw a tall guy running towards him from the direction the bus had driven off to. He stopped in front of Virgil. Before he could say anything, Virgil told him: "The bus is gone if that's what you were going to ask.". The guy looked really startled for a few seconds before replying: "Darn it... Well, at least I have such cute company.". Virgil's eyes went wide. It couldn't be. He quickly rolled up the sleeve of his hoodie, revealing the words that guy had just said in black cursive writing. He looked up at the guy again. "You're...", he started. The guy showed him his wrist. He had hoped that it was just a coincidence but his wrist said "The bus is gone if that's what you were going to ask". "I'm Roman and you?", his soulmate introduced himself. "Virgil.", he responded. Roman sat down next to him. "Do you know when the next bus will arrive?", Roman asked. "In like an hour, we'll be incredibly late.", Virgil replied. "But look on the bright side! We have an entire hour to get to know each other!", Roman exclaimed. "No, thank you.", Virgil huffed. Roman was extremely caught off guard by that response. This was his soulmate after all. Why wouldn't he want to get to know him? He had just met him and already managed to screw it up somehow. "Why not?", Roman asked. "I... I'm not into guys.", Virgil lied. "Nonsense, you're my soulmate. There's no way you're not into guys.", Roman said, "So what is this really about?". Virgil sighed. "Look. I'm not a big fan of this whole soulmate thing. My parents are super annoying everytime it becomes a conversation topic. Plus they expect my soulmate to be a woman. I don't want to disappoint them. So I guess I'm just scared? I don't want to have to keep a relationship from them because I don't want to come out to them. And you know how this thing goes. We will fall in love if we get to know each other. It's our stupid destiny.", he explained. "Oh... That's understandable... I was so excited to finally meet my soulmate. I kept fantasising about our future together and what you might be like. This isn't anything like I expected it to be. But if you don't want anything to do with me, I can't change that.", Roman replied. Virgil felt extremely guilty seeing the frown on Roman's face. "I thought about what you might be like a lot too..", Virgil admitted, "I wish I wasn't such a coward, so we could make this work...". "You're not a coward! Coming out is very scary. I didn't come out to my parents until 3 years after I figured out I wasn't straight. Does that make me a coward?", Roman argued. Virgil shook his head in response. "Then you're not a coward either.", Roman insisted. "I guess you're right...", Virgil muttered. "I know.", Roman chuckled, "Tell me a bit more about yourself. What do you like to do in your free time?". Virgil - despite not wanting to talk to Roman earlier - replied: "Well... I love listening to music. I'm really into Emo. I love singing and I spend most of my time on tumblr.". "Oh, I adore singing!", Roman declared, "I listen to Emo sometimes too. I can't deny that the music is good. I also love drawing and acting! Or any kind of creative work for that matter ". "We should sing a duet some day.", Virgil suggested. "I would love that.", Roman replied without any hesitation. "But no lovey-dovey pop songs, we're definitely not at that stage of our relationship yet.", Virgil said jokingly, "I'm talking Mcr or Panic!.". "That's alright by me.", Roman said, "So... Do you still want nothing to do with me?". "I would be lying if I said yes.", Virgil admitted. Roman started beaming with joy. "Fuck, why are you so cute?", the emo muttered. "You think I'm cute?", Roman laughed. "Well yeah... Especially with that look on your face.", Virgil grumbled. "I think we already established that I think you're cute, right? Cause I think you're cute.", his soulmate said. "No, I'm not.", Virgil protested. "Yes, you are. You're really really cute.", the other insisted. "Whatever.", Virgil scoffed. He turned his face away, so Roman wouldn't see that he was blushing. "I'm sorry, my chemically imbalanced romance. I didn't mean to embarass you.", Roman said. "Don't call me that.", Virgil retorted. "Sorry. I like giving people nicknames. I just came up with that one.", Roman apologised. "It's okay. It's kinda endearing, actually.", Virgil admitted. They went on to talk for a while before the bus finally arrived. They got on the bus and sat down next to each other. "Do you mind if I listen to some music on one ear?", Virgil asked. "I have a better idea. Give me the other ear bud. I wanna listen too.", Roman suggested. Virgil shrugged. He took his phone and his headphones out of his backpack and plugged in the headphones. Then he put one ear bud into his right ear and gave Roman the other one to put it into his left ear. He put his playlist on shuffle and Come Home With Me from Hadestown started playing. "You like musicals?", Roman asked. "Did I forget to mention that?", Virgil responded with another question, "Yeah, I do. Hadestown is currently my favorite.". "Mine too!", Roman exclaimed. They spent the entire bus ride gushing about their favorite musicals. Virgil really liked Roman. He was good-looking. He was really nice and they even shared a few interests. It scared him how much he already liked Roman. They arrived at the school and hurried to their classes. But not before exchanging phone numbers because Roman insisted. A few weeks passed and texting Roman quickly replaced being on tumblr as Virgil's main activity. He didn't tell his parents that he had met his soulmate. He didn't like lying to them but he was too scared to tell the truth. It was a sunny afternoon and Virgil had gotten home from school 2 hours ago. He saw his phone's screen light up because of a notification. He became really excited when he saw that Roman had texted him. "Wanna meet up at that park near your house?", he mouthed as he read the message. He typed in: "Why, of course I do.", added a red heart and sent it. Oh no. Was the heart too much? He didn't have a lot of time to freak out because Roman immediately replied: "Great! See you soon." with a red heart at the end. He went from freaking out about the red heart at the end of his message to freaking out about the red heart at the end of Roman's message really quick. He hurried downstairs and told his parents: "I'm meeting up with Patton.", while putting on his shoes. He didn't even wait for a reply. He rushed outside and went to the park as fast as he could. Roman was already there when he arrived. "We really need to talk.", he said and held a beautiful bouquet of roses out to Virgil. It would be an understatement to say that Virgil was a little taken aback. He hestitantly accepted the roses while fighting the urge to hide his blushing face. "Thank you..", Virgil said, a small smile forming on his face, "What did you want to talk about?". "I wanted to talk about us.", Roman replied. Virgil felt panic rising up inside him. "What is it?", Virgil stammered. "I know you said you didn't want to date me because you don't want to have a secret relationship behind your parents back but...", Roman started to explain. He took Virgil's free hand and looked him straight in the eyes before softly uttering: "I fell in love with you, Virgil.". Virgil's eyes went wide and he kept looking back and forth between their touching hands and Roman's face. "Are you serious?", he asked, a part of him hoping he wasn't and another part of him ready to celebrate if he was. "Yes. Why wouldn't I?", Roman responded. "I... I fell in love with you too.", Virgil confessed. Upon hearing that, Roman was bursting with joy. "You did? Then... Do you think we can make this work?", he asked. "I don't know... I really want to.. But my parents-", Virgil said. He was interrupted by Roman exclaiming: "Don't worry about your parents! Right now you're here with me. So how do you wanna go on from here?". Virgil put the rose bouquet on a bench next to them and took a few steps closer to Roman. They were standing so close to each other that the noses were almost touching. "What are you waiting for?", Roman asked with a cocky smile on his face. Virgil playfully rolled his eyes and placed his hand on Roman's cheek before crashing their lips together. Roman closed his eyes and let out a sigh of contentment. They didn't kiss for a very long time. It was as short as it was sweet and loving. They felt themselves yearning for their lips to meet again as soon as it was over. "Wow.", Roman said. Virgil chuckled. "Couldn't have said it better.", he replied. They sat down on the bench Virgil had set down the bouquet and Virgil cuddled up to Roman. They spent the rest of the afternoon cuddling on that park bench. Eventually Virgil had to head back home. "One last thing! Are we a thing now?", Roman asked. Virgil simply nodded. "So... You're my boyfriend now.", Roman stated. He suddenly became very giggly. "I like how that sounds. My boyfriend.", he said in between the cutest giggles Virgil had ever heard. "I like it too.", Virgil replied, "I really need to go now.". He gave Roman a peck on the lips and they said their goodbyes. Then Virgil hurried back home. "Hi, sweetie! Did you have fun?", his mom greeted him. "Yeah, I-", Virgil started his sentence only to be interrupted by his mom gasping. He shot a confused look at her. "Your mark!", she squealed. His dad came running and grabbed Virgil's arm. He rolled up his son's sleeve and had a similar reaction to his wife. And then Virgil realised. That stupid mark changed color after you shared your first kiss with your soulmate. He had kissed Roman, so of course his soulmate mark had changed color. And of course his parents just had to notice it. "You finally met her!", Virgil's mom cheered. "Tell us everything.", his dad added. "I-", he croaked. He slowly felt himself losing control over his breathing and his fight or flight reflexes took over. He turned around and sprinted up to his room. He barely managed to lock the door before falling to the ground. He rocked back and forth and started hyperventilating. His parents were knocking on the door but he could barely hear them. He was losing his grip on reality. Then he heard his phone buzz. He took his phone with shaking hands and saw that Roman had texted him. Perfect timing. He had noticed the change of color of the mark too and asked if Virgil was alright. Virgil typed in what happened - many typos happening due to his shaking hans - and sent a reply. He got a little spooked when he saw that Roman was calling him but he picked up anyway. "Virge, can you tell me 5 things you can see?", Roman asked. "I see... My phone. My bed. My lamp. My Mcr albums. And my headphones.", Virgil counted out. "Good job!", Roman commended him, "Now tell me 4 things you can touch.". "My phone. My legs. The floor. The door.", Virgil did as he was told. His breathing started to even out again. "You're doing good so far. Now three things you can hear.", Roman continued. "My parents, the knocking on the door, you.", Virgil was slowly calming down as he spoke. "Good. Now two things you can smell.", Roman had memorised this routine for moments like this. He wanted to be able to help. "The food downstairs. And for some reason you.", Virgil was almost completely calmed down now. To him it felt like Roman was right next to him even though they were just talking on the phone. "And one thing you can taste?", Roman asked. "A bland taste in my mouth.", Virgil replied. "And you did it! Congratulations!", Roman cheered, "How are you feeling? Do you want me to come over and cuddle?". "I'm feeling a lot better. Thanks. I would love to but what about my parents?", his emo boyfriend answered. "Maybe they can handle the truth?", Roman suggested. Virgil sighed. "This is gonna go horribly wrong. But I really need your cuddles. And I'll have to tell them soon anyway.. I know they won't let this go.", he said. "I'll be at your door in 5 minutes!", and with that Roman hung up. Virgil unlocked his door and opened it. He looked at his confused parents and said: "Someone is coming over.". "Is it her? Your soulmate?", his dad gasped. Virgil didn't say anything and went downstairs. He waited for Roman and ignored all of his parents' attempts of talking to him. Finally the door bell rang. Virgil tore open the door and pulled Roman into a tight embrace. "Who is this?", Virgil's mom asked. Virgil let go of Roman. He took his boyfriends hand, took a deep breath and said: "Mom? Dad? This is Roman. He's my soulmate.". After getting over her initial shock, Virgil's mom greeted Roman: "Hello, dear! Would you like to stay for dinner?". "That's very sweet but-", Roman protested. He was interrupted by Virgil's dad saying: "No, we insist. Please stay for dinner.". Virgil looked bewildered. "You don't mind?", he asked his parents. "Why would we?", his dad responded with another question. "I always thought... you really wanted my soulmate to be a woman.", he admitted. "Oh my gosh... I am so sorry..", his mom said and hugged him, "Is that why you didn't want to tell us about your soulmate?". Virgil nodded. "Honey, I am so so so so sorry.", she apologised. "I'm really sorry too, Virgil.. I never wanted to make you feel like you couldn't tell us about this.", Virgil's dad apologised as well and hugged him. "See? They can handle the truth.", Roman whispered. "You were right, you were right.", Virgil admitted. "Does the offer of staying for dinner still count?", Roman asked as he intertwined Virgil's and his hands. "Of course!", his boyfriend's mom replied. And so they went to the kitchen and sat down. The dinner was wonderful. Roman was being his usual flamboyant, confident self and Virgil's parents adored him. It was like all of Virgil's fears about coming out to his parents had washed away. Like they never existed. Virgil was happy. He was happy that his parents accepted him. He was happy that they liked his boyfriend. He was happy to have Roman by his side. And most importantly, he was happy that he would soon be able to show the world how much he loved the man holding his hand without having to worry about what his parents would think. Maybe - just maybe - having a soulmate wasn't so bad.

#prinxiety #ts prinxiety #sanders sides fic #sanders sides #sanders sides prinxiety #ts virgil #ts roman #virgil sanders #roman sanders #prinxiety fanfic #sanders sides fanfic #sanders sides fanfiction #oneshot

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hitsuackerman · 5 years ago

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A Different Hashira (Giyu x Reader) pt 5

Here is the part 5 of A Different Hashira

You can click here for part 1 :)

You can click here for part 2 :)

You can click here for part 3 :)

You can click here for part 4 :)

- - - - -

Attempted Conversations

Despite the fact that you failed in extracting knowledge as to what his favorite food was, the two of you still enjoyed the simple lunch of tempura and soba. It was a miracle that you knew just how much spices you needed to put since Giyu had such particular taste.

"Are you in the mood to talk, Tomioka-san?"

"Mhmm."

Taking your eyes off of the tempura, you stared at the messy haired hashira. He was wearing a white undershirt and his pants. Though this time, he was barefoot.

"How was your mission?"

"It was successful. I met up with Kochou and she assisted me." He slurped his soba and proceeded "A dog bit me as well."

"Huh?" Putting your bowl down, you scooted towards him and extended a hand. Half expecting he would reject it.

Staring at you with stuffed cheeks, he placed his chopsticks down and gave you his bandaged hand. Inspecting it a little, you saw the messy of a job was done in wrapping up the injury. Knowing that Shinobu would never make something that horrendous, you could only deduce that it was him who did it.

"This was done... very badly, Tomioka-san."

Taking his hand from yours, he grabbed his chopsticks and continued eating. You sighed and stood up. With big steps, you went to your room and grabbed your first aid box. Though you were not as skilled as Shinobu when it comes to medicine, you were an expert at wrapping bandages. Admittedly, it had been a while since you last bandaged your hand. Hopefully, your hands still remembered what to do.

Seeing you carrying a first aid kit, Giyu stopped eating and waited for you to begin the small procedure.

Carefully unwrapping the bandage, you felt how calloused his fingers were. You didn't know how old he was but your estimation was around 18 or 19 years old. Asking him would be pushing it and he might just stand up and leave you alone.

Seeing that there was a faint bite mark, you couldn't help but giggle at the picture of an emotionless man being bitten by a dog.

"What?"

Your thoughts were cut when his voice cut the silence between you.

"I was just thinking how you looked like when the dog bit you." A smile escaped your mouth. Looking up, you saw him staring at you with such dead pan eyes. He looked annoyed but in reality, he looked like a child. Your smile only grew even larger causing him to sigh in defeat.

A few minutes passed and you were pleased with your handy work.

"There you go! Much better and definitely cleaner too."

"Thank you."

Crawling your way back to your seat, you picked up your bowl and continued to eat. A slight breeze found it's way to the two of you. Instantly, the two of you relaxed. The two of you had been on long journey's and the breeze was a much needed energy booster.

"Your left palm? What happened?"

"Hmm?" You replied with food in your mouth this time.

"I noticed a healed laceration on it."

"Very observant. Yes, it is a healed laceration. As to how I got it, only time will give you the answer, Tomioka-san."

Now that the two of you finished sharing lunch, Giyu silently offered to wash the dishes once more. Thanking him, you cleaned the table and set it aside. Now that the receiving area was empty, you lazily flopped to the ground and inhaled the fresh air passing through the engawa.

"Care to join me?" You invited Giyu to lay down on the tatami mats.

"No."

"Suit yourself."

Hearing his footsteps go up the stairs, the tranquility was cut by the caws of your raven and his crow. Landing beside you, the two birds looked at each other and nodded.

"(F/N) (L/N) and Giyu Tomioka. Head northwest. Village with reports of demon. Leave tomorrow. " Karasutori announced.

"So much for peace, ey?" You hummed while petting the head of both birds. Both of them responded by bowing their heads even more. Telling them to wait, you went back inside the kitchen and gave them each some bread crumbs. The moment they left, you headed to your room to get ready for the mission to come.

As the sun was setting, you had just finished preparing the necessary items. Hoping that there would be a Wisteria house there, you only brought some bandages and cash. Any more than that would become a hindrance when fighting off demons.

The question now was, which sword you would have to bring with you on the mission. With zero details to go on, it would be a risk to bring a jagged sword. Telling yourself to pay Tecchikawahara a visit, you stored the blue Nichirin blade and brought out the black sheathed one from your closet. Taking a cloth, you wiped off any traces of dust and placed it beside your futon.

Hopefully, this demon would have no need to let you use any breathing techniques. It did cross your mind that this would be the perfect time to show Giyu what kind of pillar you were, but you made a pact with yourself. Only use it in times of need.

Standing up, you changed into your uniform's skirt and a plain white shirt. Too lazy to cook dinner, you headed to the butterfly estate. There you killed time till you fell asleep

- -

Going back to your estate in the early hours of your dawn, you savored the chilly morning breeze accompanied with all of nature's sound. Regretting not bringing along your haori, you walked a pace faster till you saw the familiar building emerge from the wisteria trees. A carving of tidal waves were now visible on the wooden gates.

Opening them, you were greeted with a meditating Giyu with tea cups beside him.

Walking up to him, you sat on the engawa. Your eyes focused on the steaming cup of tea. Sipping on it, you felt energized and ready to start the mission. Comfortable silence engulfed the two of you. Thanking him for the tea, you stood up to ready yourself for the mission.

Moments later, the two of you were now walking towards the Northwestern village.

Inside you, you were dying to initiate conversation. You were so used to having Misturi or Kyojuro talking their hearts out as you headed to your assigned places. The person you were teaming up with gave you nothing but silence. Would he be annoyed if you kept talking about random things till you reached the village? Would an exchange happen? Or just nods and hums? Sulking it up, you began to tread the waters.

"Uh, what kind of demon do you think we'll find?"

"Not sure yet."

"When did you start learning water breathing, Tomioka-san?"

"A few years back."

"What was it like, training with Urokodaki-sensei?"

"Never let him drink alcohol."

"Wait, what?"

You stopped walking as you processed the tidbit of information you had just received. In all your years with Urokodaki, you had never once seen him drink anything other than tea and water. A mental image of him drinking was harder than learning your own 10th form of breathing. Catching up to Giyu, you matched his pace once more.

Regretting that you stopped the momentum of the conversation, you stared at him once more. You noticed how his cheeks were a little bit more fuller. The dark circles around his eyes were still there, though. He had his fair share of sleepless nights, too. Mentally, you took note to buy some lavender to help him get some goodnight's rest.

By the time the two of you arrived in the village, the sun was now setting. Looking for an inn or a Wisteria house, you stumbled upon the latter. The family gladly took the both of you in but only had one room to offer. Graciously accepting it, the two of you sat down on the only futon available and rested your legs after a day's worth of walking.

"Shall we take turns in patrolling the area?" You offered.

"That's fine. Rest for now. I'll start."

Before you could say another word, Giyu vanished. Not bothering to get up, you plopped onto the futon and took a nap. Just as you felt your body give in, there was a knock on the door. You sat yourself up as you told them to enter. Upon seeing their smiling faces, you were greeted with 2 sets of mouth watering food.

With no one else to talk to, you invited the woman to sit down and chat.

"Do you have any idea what kind of demon is running lose?"

"Very faint, but I heard that the demon only eats those in their teens and late twenties. Some people also report that they find large holes around the forest. Holes enough for a full grown person to hide in."

"I see. When was the last time there was a sighting?"

"About 3 days ago. By the ramen shop."

"Around what time? Would you know?"

The girl touched her chin and tried to think about the conversation she had.

"They say it was around 10pm."

"Alright. Thanks for the information, uhh, may I have your name again?" You scratched your head awkwardly at forgetting the name of your host.

"Ayumi." She replied with a smile.

"Thank you, Ayumi-san. You should rest now, I'll be patrolling in a few minutes time."

After you finished eating, she took your set of bowls and dishes. Leaving Giyu's meal in case he would feel hungry when he returns. Laying back down on the futon, you yawned and waited for the return of your partner. You closed your eyes to make use of the time.

You woke up with start when you felt the futon move slightly. Giyu had returned. Examining him, he looked clean and calm, as always.

"Anything happened?" Rubbing your eyes as you asked him.

"None."

"Aight, Imma head out now. You- oh you already ate, good." Standing up, you took your blade and bid farewell.

- - - - -

a/n:

so... this was... yeah xD sorry if this chapter sucks but author-chan still has to build things up a bit ;) doncha worry, there will be action in the next upload. i also hope that ya'll felt that this chapter was quite awkward since its usually awkward around our bibi boi Giyu~ (save if your Tanjirou because, yeah he's who he is 😂 )

Also... I tend to update this late here in tumblr so if you guys want the link to the story :) feel free to message me :D this is actually chapter 5 out of 16 (currently)

#tomioka giyuu #giyuu tomioka x reader #tomioka giyu x reader #reader insert #kny tomioka #kny giyu #kny x reader

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darklymelanatedstories · 4 years ago

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So this is another story I wrote a while ago and just wanted to share with you Tumblr maniacs. Don't mind the terrible title. I'm lazy okay.

Part 1 of 4 part weirdness series.

Nameless crush (ft Piccolo)

Part 1: Curiosity

So beautiful. I found a perfect spot in the forest. A beautiful view of the sun resting on the horizon. Gohan took me her a few weeks back when we were trying to escape fangirls and paparazzi cause I asked to take a picture of him in his Great Saiyan Man outfit. I chuckled at the memory off Gohan almost being stripped naked by a bunch of fan girls.

I stared at the horizon as the fresh breeze hit my face. I enjoyed every minute of it. The peace, the fresh air, the view, nature. You couldn't find any of these in the city. Other than that there was something else about this place that drew me in, I don't know if its just the beauty of mother nature but something in me keeps telling me to come back. Like I'll find something more.

But every time I came back there wouldn't be anything out of the ordinary. I took out my earphones from my pocket and placed them in my ears. A song was already playing, probably because I never turn my music off. I listen to music more than I listen to people so I like to something playing just incase I need to tune out someone.

I laid there on the grass and looked up at the semi dark clouds in the sky.

"Hmm, could rain soon."I said to myself. Though I didn't really care if it rained. I don't mind getting wet. I closed my eyes and dozed off. Drifting into my secluded dream world.

I felt a wet, icy drop hit my cheek, though I dismissed it and went back to sleep. It wasn't until I heard a sound of someone moving, that I shot up and looked around, scanning my surroundings.

"Probably just another animal walking past."I said to myself as I let out a breath of relief. Though I couldn't help but feel like I was being watched. It started raining harder. I took out my earphones, my I've already went through my whole playlist so my music stopped playing a while ago. I looked up at the sky, letting the water stream down my face.

"Shouldn't you be indoors right now?"asked a deep, male voice from behind. It startled me but I didn't show it.

"I could ask you the same thing."I replied, my face still enjoying the cool rain. "Its raining cats and dogs out here, why aren't you inside?"

"I like training in the rain sometimes."the man said. "Whats your excuse?"

I stood up and cracked back, my back still facing the man.

"I like the rain out here and I don't feel like going back to the city. Its so peaceful here."

"Don't earthlings usually get sick from sleeping in the rain though?"he asked. "Earthling?" I thought.

Is this guy one of the aliens I've heard of or just weirdo. I heard him take a few steps closer. With my guard up, I turned quickly turned around to face this strange man.

I jumped back in shock to see him right in front of me. His chest so close to my face. It looked like...is he green? His purple gi that stuck to his green, wet, toned body and a white cape that gently flew in the breeze.

"Ok so he's clearly an alien. Dare I look up at his face?"

I slowly lifted my head up at the green man...alien. His dark, ivory eyes looked down at mine. I tried my best to hide my nervousness but I guess he could sense it becuase he took a few steps back.

I stared at his face, his features for a while. He didn't look that bad, actually pretty handsome.

"So are you gonna answer my question or just keep staring?"he questioned with an annoyed tone. It snapped me out of my thoughts breaking me out of the trance I was in.

"Oh yeah, sorry. I was just-"

"Staring at the hideous monster before you?"

I waved my arms frantically in the air, with an embarrassing blush on my face.

"What!? No, no. I mean I was staring but," I trailed off. "You're not hideous, you're actually pretty handsome for an alien. Gah! Not that I'm saying aliens are ugly but-"

He raised his hand, cutting me off. "Its fine. I understand, most people react this way when they see me",he said. "At least before running away screaming. Which I believe now is your cue to do so."

"Why would I do that?"I asked.

"Why not? Most earthlings do." He seemed curious.

"Well I'm not most. Thats stereotypical."I said, glaring at him. His dark, cold eyes staring back.

We glared at each other for about a minute until...I sneezed. He chuckled a bit before going back to his stoic state.

"Whats so funny?"I asked.

"I guess that answers my question."he teased. "You should head home, before it gets worse." He turned and flew up a few feet in the air.

"Hey wait, you can fly? Then why not give me a lift!?",I yelled out. He stopped mid-flight and turned to me with a grin on his face.

"I don't pick up weirdo's who like sleeping in the rain.",he responded. "Sorry but you're on your own. I also noticed that you didn't come here with a car, better start walking."

He then flew off, leaving me here.

"Why you big green–ugh!",I yelled, stomping my foot on the wet ground.

"Guess its my fault anyway. But he could've been a little helpful."

I walked back to the city, it wasn't to far from where I was. Plus it wasn't that bad since the rain lightened. Everything I had on was soaked and the uncomfortably wet clothes made it almost unbearable. But I made it nonetheless.

I opened the door to my apartment, tracking water and mud all over my floor. I stripped and got into the bath. After what happened I didn't feel like another shower. After the 20 minute soak I got into my fuzzy PJs, and slippers and made myself some tea while binge watching My wife and kids. I didn't pay attention to most of it as I was busy thinking of that alien guy I met. I silently cursed when I realised I didn't get his name. My God he was handsome. I needed to take a picture of him next time.

I couldn't sleep. My thoughts of this guy kept me up. Question after question hitting my brain whenever I tried to sleep. I needed to know more, to see more, to hear more. I got up around 3 in the morning and packed all my stuff. I wore my favourite black and yellow hoodie, dark jeans and purple sneakers. I left the apartment and headed to the same spot. Multitasking trying to tie my hair and eat a chocolate bar for my "breakfast".

I headed to the spot, the sun started rising in between the moutains. Letting nice warm light hit my face.

"Oh, it's you again." That deep voice, it was definitely him. "Though I didn't expect you to be here so early.",he said, he sounded intrigued. "Or do you always do this every morning?"

"Nope, I couldn't sleep so I decided to come here and explore the forest.",I said.

"Oh really. There's a lot of places to go to but you decided to come to this exact spot. Why?"

I wanted to turn around and look at him but fear of staring into those eyes stopped me.

"I just wanted to enjoy the view first.",I said nervously.

"Ok let me not stop you. Enjoy.",he said somehow knowingly. I heard him walking further away from me with each step.

"Wait.",I said. He stopped. "What's your name?" I turned to him. His back facing me. He glanced over his shoulder, his dark pupils got a glimpse of me.

"Piccolo."he said.

"Piccolo." His name felt sweet when I uttered it. Leaving my lips tingling.

"Nice name.",I happily said.

"Aren't you gonna tell me yours?" He came closer but this time I showed no nervousness. I tried to keep a neutral face but a smile crept out when he took his final step.

"Nope. I don't go around telling my name to strangers."

"You're a weird one."

"Really? Thank you, I was always told I wasn't normal. Now here an alien is, proving everyones point by calling me weird."

He gave me a small smile before levitating with his legs crossed. His eyes never leaving mine. Like he was observing me.

"Didn't anyone tell you its rude to stare?"I asked.

"Thats funny coming from someone who couldn't take their eyes off me yesterday."

I couldn't say anything. I just stared at him as a light blush appeared on my face. A soft chuckle escaped his lips, like he found this amusing.

I let out a fake cough. "What?"

"Why are you nervous?",he questioned. I snapped myself out of it and stood confidently.

"I'm not. Why would I be?" I folded my arms and turned to the side avoiding his gaze.

"Your face."

"What about my face?" I then became self conscious. Was there something on my face?

"Nothing. So you're not going to tell me your name?"he asked, changing the topic.

"No, why do you wanna know anyway?" At this point I was just trying to distract him with questions so he'd stop staring.

"Just curious."

The sound of his feet touching the ground made me quickly turn to face him. He glanced down at my bag for a second before looking back at me.

"Guess I'll see you tomorrow then.",he said before walking away.

"How do you know I'll be here tomorrow?",I asked suspiciously.

"I know you will.",he stated before taking off.

I sighed. Sweet breath of relief. His charcoal coloured eyes stopped staring into my soul. At least I knew his name now.

"Piccolo."

#piccolo #piccolo x oc #curiosity #piccolo Fanfic #part 1 of 4

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atlasishere · 5 years ago

Text

Deck the Aisles

A/N This is a very late Christmas gift for @watchoutforthefanfics, she is a gift that has let me take an extra month to finish this labor of love

Word Count: 6700 words

Warnings: Swearing, Deceit( as Emerson), Remus, a couple of alcohol mentions as well (feel free to let me know if I need to add any)

Relationships: Prinxiety, Logicality, Moceit, Remile(background)

It was 5 in the morning and Virgil Poe was in a Bed, Bath, and Beyond. Who knew how he came to this point in his life, but it kind of sucked. It was Black Friday and Virgil had decided maybe he can get a good deal on a new Crock-Pot for his mother, hers had broken. As he walked through the crowded aisles, he found it, the last crockpot. Speed walking towards it, Virgil realized that someone else was also reaching for it. Virgil grabbed it just before the other man did. As the other man began to reach for the box, Virgil yanked it out of his reach. The two spent a bit of time reaching and grabbing for the crockpot when Virgil realized it really wasn’t worth it. So after deciding this, he handed the man the crockpot and left the store hoping to find one at another store. After going to two other department stores, he found one and went home, wondering about the man he had almost fought for a crockpot. I will probably never see him again and if I do, he most likely won’t remember me.

A week and a half later, Roman Darcy was walking through the mall. He had some more Christmas shopping to do for his mom and his two roommates. He knew Logan wanted a new Rubix’s cube since his old one had been lost by Roman, but Logan doesn’t need to know that. He knew he wanted to get Patton some new fabric and yarn for his side business of selling clothes he made. He got his mom a crockpot already, fought a man for it, but knew she might like some nice chocolates from the candy shop, so he walked over to buy some. As he walked out, Roman noticed a flash of purple and looked up surprised to see the man from Bed Bath and Beyond. The purple clothed man had apparently sensed someone staring at him as he looked up from his phone and looked around. Turning his eyes and head, he finally noticed Roman.

The thoughts of both men were along the lines of “FUCK!!! Does he recognize me? Shit, I think he does.”

Both were having a mental breakdown, but Virgil is quite used to them so he was able to be done quicker than Roman and began to profusely apologize for his immature behavior while Roman kept trying to reassure him that it was fine. Eventually, Virgil heard Roman and began to breathe a little bit deeper.

Then Roman opened his mouth, “How about if I buy you lunch since I got the crockpot?”

And all hell broke loose as Virgil began to argue. “Hell no. I am buying your lunch since I started the “fight”.”

Well, Roman was passionate and couldn’t back down if he tried and said, “You gave me the crockpot, I am returning the favor!”

This continued for a few minutes and while there wasn’t any yelling, people around could tell they were irritated with each other. Eventually, Virgil’s anxiety kicked in because people were taking notice of him, which is not good, and said, “Fine you can pay for lunch, let’s just go now.”

So, Roman took Virgil to Wendy’s in the mall food court and told Virgil to order whatever. Once he had ordered, Virgil decided to send a text to his roommate that he would be out later than expected and that he would see him later.

After the two obtained their food, they found a table and sat down. The conversation began with Virgil thanking Roman and Roman brushed it off, it was not a problem for him. After they began to eat, Roman finally sparked a conversation, “So what do you do for a living?”

Virgil swallowed his food and responded, “I am a therapist at Dr. Picani’s office. I also will do art and writing commissions for people for a bit of extra cash. You?”

Roman smiled and answered “I run a children’s theater, direct the plays, and offer art classes, often in painting. I also act a little bit myself.”

“Cool. I used to do tech for that theater a few years ago. I had to stop after I picked up commissioning and Dr. Picani’s business expanded,” Virgil said as he remembered the fun he had doing lights and sound. He also remembered the cute assistant director who also had to help backstage and help with the writing.

“Oh, that’s really cool. Yeah, I have been working at that theater for close to a decade now. I had apprenticed as an assistant director so that when the previous owner and director retired, I would have experience and could take over,” Roman shared.

At that moment, his words sunk in and were comprehended as Virgil realized, “Holy Shit this is the guy I thought was cute when I did tech.”

As Virgil quietly continued his meltdown, he really looked at Roman and if he was blatantly honest with himself, he would say he wasn’t disappointed but Virgil also knew that this “attraction” was purely an appearance-based one so he didn’t feel flustered as he said, “Yeah, we worked together. You did backstage while I ran sound and lights.”

The realization seemed to dawn on Roman as he said, “Oh that’s cool. I believe that I remember our shows running smoothly when you were in the tech tower. I hope you can eventually find time to help us again as we could really use the help.”

All Virgil responded with was an almost optimistic, “We shall see.”

The two finished their lunch with very little conversation and bid their farewells, Virgil heading to a store and Roman to his cousin’s coffee shop.

Roman walked into the coffee shop and greeted his cousin who was working behind the counter and said, “Remy, holy heckerino you will not believe what just happened. Do you remember that techie that I had a small crush on?”

“I remember a techie that you had stated ‘He is the light of my life, the night and his dark clothes have hidden him from me. I have gazed upon the face of an angel’ and some other romantic shit. So if we are talking about the same techie, that was no small crush,” Remy responded with, sarcasm soaking his tone.

“Did I really say that?” Roman questioned.

“Yes. I have the whole speech recorded on my phone if you wish to hear it all.”

“Not preferably, why do you have a recording?” Roman asked curiously, expecting a zinger.

“Two reasons, to laugh at you and if you get married, for that techie to hear you gushing about him,” Remy replied, chuckling as Roman started to pout, “Anyway, so what does he have to do with anything? I thought he stopped doing tech work for some reason.”

“He did, but I recently bumped into him and had lunch with him,” Roman said, attempting to be nonchalant.

“Oh, okay. Did you get contact information for him at least?” Remy questioned, already knowing the answer ready to exit from his disaster cousin’s mouth.

“No, I did not get his phone number or address or Tumblr or Snapchat or anything,” Roman wailed out, sounding like he was 4 and denied a second cookie.

Remy just mumbled something about a disaster and shooed Roman out before any customers came in.

Virgil arrived at his apartment complex and walked into his apartment and in an instant, Virgil was bombarded with questions and accusations. His roommate, Emerson, was apparently curious about where Virgil had been, that or worried. They had just moved a week before Thanksgiving and Emerson was definitely a mom friend who wanted to make sure his friend was okay and able to not get lost, which is commendable but annoying. So, after explaining what had happened, Virgil volunteered to go down and get the mail, since he had forgotten to.

Roman pulled his car into his parking spot and got his mailbox key out. As he walked to the mailboxes, he swore he saw that dark-clad angel of a human that vaguely looked like Virgil. As the dark cloud got closer, Roman realized it was Virgil. So he decides to strike up a conversation, “Hey,”

“Hey yourself,” Virgil replied, snickering.

“Stop laughing at me. I am trying here. I swear everyone is mean to the hot person in the area,” Roman said jokingly.

“Well, I mean, I could help you get better at it, the whole talking to people. We could exchange contact information,” Virgil said.

“I mean, sure. Give me your phone,” Roman said, taking his out and opening the contacts app.

“Man someone is pushy,” Virgil stated, doing the same thing.

“So, I didn’t know you lived here,” Roman said while entering his number.

“I would certainly hope, I don’t just give my address out and I would hope you weren’t stalking me,” Virgil said sarcastically, “But in all honesty, I moved here about a week before Thanksgiving, So I haven’t lived here long.”

After the two exchanged phones again, Virgil got his mail and left.

Roman watched him go before grabbing his own mail and heading to his apartment. Once he had walked in, Roman's roommate, Patton, bombarded him with questions on where he was and what he had been doing. So he began to explain what had happened.

“So, you worried me because you were making a new friend,” Patton said cooly despite the obvious frustration in his features, “You said you would be home by 1:30 at the latest, it is 3:30. I was concerned and stressed.”

“I’m sorry Pat, I had meant to send a text and must have forgotten. I didn't mean to make you worry,” Roman said, very obviously upset from his mistake.

“It is fine, I keep forgetting we aren’t college students and that you can take care of yourself. I am sorry I got upset, I had no right,” Patton said, realizing his mistake. It was sometimes hard for him to let go since he lived through college with Roman and his occasional dumb decision and saw him live through the pain because of how easy he loves. But he knew he needed to let go.

Patton walked into the kitchen, where his boyfriend Logan was, looking at options for dinner. As soon as Patton had entered the small kitchen area, his boyfriend looked up at him and smiled. The two hugged, both knew Patton was trying to work on his “smothering” tendencies.

“Go ask him how his lunch went. I know you don’t want to be overbearing but I think he will want to talk about it,” Logan said, attempting to comfort his partner. When he saw Patton attempting to protest, he cut him off, saying, “No buts, he knows you didn’t mean any harm and I know how curious you are. I may not be good at emotions but I am good at reading body language, he wanted to tell you. Go talk to him.”

Patton nodded and went to find Roman in their small apartment.

Roman heard a knock on his door and looked to see Patton in the doorway, so Roman let him in.

“So, how was your lunch date?” Patton queried.

Seeing the opportunity to mend things, Roman told Patton everything, including the almost fight on Black Friday.

When he was done, his friend said, “Well we have a game night in a couple of days and you should invite him.”

“What if he says no?” Roman asked, obviously anxious.

“I doubt he will, and if he has a roommate then invite said roommate as well. You said he was new here right? Say it is a welcome to the building event,” Patton said, giving Roman not only an excuse but a cookiecutter way to deal with his nerves about asking him over.

“Alright Patton, thank you,” Roman said, gracious he had such an intelligent friend.

After Patton had left to help Logan with dinner, Roman pulled his phone out to text Virgil.

Me: Hey, this is Roman, so my roommates and I are having a game night and since you are new, Patton thought of inviting you and your roommate(s)

Emo Knightmare: I know who you are, dingus. When is it?

Me: friday @ 8

Emo Knightmare: I will ask my roommate and get back to you

Virgil got up off the couch and went to the kitchen to start making dinner, deciding that spaghetti was a good option. As Virgil began boiling the water and getting out the sauce ingredients, his roommate Emerson walked in. Once he saw what Virgil was doing, he joined by helping with prepping the vegetables. As Emerson was cutting the tomatoes, Virgil cleared his throat and said, “So remember the person I was eating lunch with today?”

“Oh, you mean the one that totally didn’t cause me to worry?” Emerson asked, obviously remembering who he was.

“Yeah, well, he lives here and invited us to a game night on Friday at 8 at his apartment with his roommates,” Virgil said, “I was going to go, but the invitation was open to you as well so… up to you.”

“As long as I am not busy. Besides, I want to give this boy a piece of my mind,” Emerson responded.

“You are such a dad, Em,” Virgil responded.

“Shut up. At least I can take care of myself beyond basic skills,” Emerson said.

“Do not even speak of self-care to me, Mr. I only eat when I am forced,” Virgil snapped, enjoying the banter.

“That’s you, dumbass,” Emerson stated, correct of course.

“Shut up and cut the vegetables,” Virgil said, ending the banter.

After the two made and ate dinner, Virgil went to his room and texted Roman that they should be able to make it Friday. While Virgil’s intent was to simply send that text, it didn’t end there, he failed miserably. He failed because he ended up texting Roman until midnight.

On Friday night, Virgil and Emerson walked over to Roman's apartment with brownies and some chips. When the door opened, Virgil didn't see Roman, but a man with freckles, glasses, dark curly hair, and pale skin. The said man began to introduce himself, "Hi, my name is Patton Campbell," then he opened the door and introduced the other two near the door, "And this is Logan and Roman Darcy."

"Hi, I am Virgil Poe and this is my roommate Emerson Croft," Virgil responded, gesturing towards his friend as he introduced him.

Then the tall man with glasses, presumably Logan, spoke up and said, "Are you by some chance related to Edgar Allen Poe's cousin since the man himself didn't have his own children?"

"Sadly, it's not very likely but you definitely know your stuff," Virgil replied, impressed.

After that comment, Patton opened the door wider to let in his guests. As they walked in, Patton studied them. Virgil was lanky, of Asian descent, with dark hair that was dyed purple. Emerson was tall with light brown hair and what appeared to be scars on the left side of his face and neck. As he stared, Emerson asked with a flirty smile, "Like what you see?"

Patton looked at his feet, feeling the blood rush to his face as he fumbled to say, "Sorry I was, uh, I was curious about your scars. I apologize for being rude."

Emerson chuckled and said, "I was just messing with you. If you're really curious, when I was a kid there was a fire in our kitchen and I ended up getting burned. It left more than these scars on my face and neck, I had lots of therapy but I'm good now. If anything, the scars remind me not to be dumb."

Emerson watched Patton look at him with pity? No, more like empathy. It confused him but he didn't question it. Emerson walked into the apartment and looked at the roommates of Patton. Logan was tall and fairly thin, he wore dark square-framed glasses that were similar to the common nerd glasses. Roman was only about an inch shorter than Logan, likely Hispanic due to his darker skin and accent, and had a more organized curl to his dark hair.

Emerson walked in and deposited the pan of brownies and bag of chips on the counter where Logan had gestured for him to put them.

After the five shared a dinner of pizza, they moved to the living room with snack food and board games. After going through several games including Fluxx, Uno, Sorry, and a very long game of Life, Emerson shared that he had brought his own game to share with the group called "Coup". He pulled the game out from under the brownie pan and took it out to the laundry room.

After he finished explaining how the game was played, Patton spoke up and queried, "So, you're supposed to lie?"

"Well, it makes the game more fun if I'm truly honest," Emerson responded.

"Ok, but how are you fine with that morally?" Patton challenged.

"Simple, I don't necessarily see a problem with small lies. Honesty can be nice for some things, but to be fully honest is a delusion set by society," Emerson said, cool as an ice cube.

"But how will people know if you're being honest about something? If you're known to consistently lie, people can't trust you," Patton challenged.

"If you truly know someone, you know when they lie about it and I know plenty of people who trust me, I mean look at Virgil," Emerson stated, continuing the discussion.

" I see your point. Can we agree to disagree and maybe discuss this later?" Patton requested.

Emerson smiled and responded, "Sure, get some good points ready. Alright, let's play Coup."

As Patton played Coup and got the hang of it and lying, he sensed feelings forming for Emerson and very readily decided to bury them, him being polyamorous has only caused the problem in the past.

Later that night, after Virgil and Emerson had gone home, Logan approached his boyfriend to talk to him about their guests. He cleared his throat and said, "So, I'm a figurative fan of our guests. Also, I think Roman might be falling for Virgil."

Patton chuckled as he said, "Yeah, you're not alone in either of those thoughts. I liked them, Virgil was fun and Emerson was interesting. If we do the Christmas party I'd like to invite them."

"That would be enjoyable," at that moment Logan looked at Patton and queried, "Hey are you alright?"

"Yeah, just a little drained," Patton lied, knowing he had no right to judge Emerson for lying.

Logan was aware that Patton was lying, but also knew that he wouldn't push, and stated, " Then let's get to bed dear."

That night both had a troubled night's sleep.

Virgil did not, that's because he was up late texting Roman. He went to bed around 2 which is not abnormal for him and he didn't have to work until 1 so it was fine. He had fun at the game night and would have definitely wanted Patton and Em together if it wasn't obvious that Patton was with Logan, so not likely. But then again what did he know. Virgil was truly grateful that Picani had hired him and didn't always have him come to work early since their office was still smaller but it was nice. As he walked in, he waved to their receptionist Elliot and he walked back to his office to look at his scheduled patients.

After a long day of back to back sessions, Virgil finally closed the office for the day at 9 pm. As he walked out to his car, he saw that Emerson had texted him saying that he had ordered pizza and needed Virgil to pick it up. Since Virgil had eaten a late lunch and no dinner yet, he was very grateful his roommate had a similar schedule.

Virgil arrived at his apartment and carried the pizza in, calling for Emerson. He walked in as Virgil sat the pizza on the dining room table. As the two sat down to eat, Emerson decided to spark a conversation, "So, how was the office?"

"It was nice, good steady stream and I got to meet a couple of new clients that I hope to continue seeing us," Virgil answered, it was pretty obvious how much he cared about these patients, "How was managing today? Any new Karens?"

"Thankfully no. Only interacted with two today and they weren't the worst," Emerson responded.

The rest of the pizza was eaten in a quiet space with little small talk made, it was comfortable and they were okay with it.

After Virgil finished his share of the pizza, he loaded his dishes and went to his room to work on a couple of commissions, he had to pay off his loans somehow. While he was working on one, he received a text from Roman. Virgil checked it and told Roman he was working on a commission so texting would be scarce. A few minutes later Roman responded and said he could Facetime if Virgil agreed. Virgil figured it couldn’t cause any harm, so he called Roman.

Roman answered Virgil's call, not knowing what to expect but was still definitely thrown off guard. Virgil was in slacks and a purple dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up and his hair wasn't falling over his eyes, the only makeup that Roman could see him wearing was the foundation. Roman was surprised and definitely swooning.

"Hello, Sir Roman, like what ya see?" Virgil teased when he saw Roman was starting to stare.

Roman snapped into reality and fumbled to say, "I'm just surprised to see you looking so professional."

"Oh I take offense to that Princey, better watch out or I may start crying. Wouldn't want to be the cause of gay hate crime now, would we? " Virgil teased.

"First off, I'm not straight so take notes. Secondly, aw pobrecito. Go cry me a river, build yourself a bridge, and get over it," Roman countered.

Virgil was a little bit impressed but Roman didn't need to know, it would go straight to his ego. As he turned back to his tablet as he said, "we can keep talking but I want to get this commission finished, so I'm not ignoring you, just working."

Roman chuckled as he countered, "Now who is a homophobe?"

Virgil very lightly blushed but his it well and responded with a simple 'touché'.

To say they had a productive phone call would be lying so hard that Emerson would even call bullshit. Roman mostly stared at the cute Virgil and occasionally made small talk while Virgil mostly paid attention to his tablet. Roman definitely wasn't complaining, that just meant he could watch and slowly fall in love like he was living in a fucking fanfiction.

After a while, Roman decided to say good night so he could sleep since he had to be at the theater earlier because they had a performance tomorrow. When Virgil heard this, he asked, “When is it? I’ll come to see it if Dr. Picani is cool with it.”

“Oh, we are doing two performances. The first is at 4:00 and the second is at 8:00,” Roman answered.

“Aren’t you kind of overworking them? I mean, these are passionate theatre kids, they put everything into their performances and you are making them do two performances on the same day and a mere ten days before Christmas. I may have never acted, but I also did tech and I have a feeling these kids are going to crash,” Virgil said, clearly passionate about these kids and their health.

“I get that, however, we couldn’t find two days in a row that worked for everyone and they were all cool with it. On top of that, I am providing them with dinner at about 7:00 and also have the backroom set up for them to nap. I am going to take care of these kids, I promise,” Roman said, trying to assure Virgil.

“Well, on Sundays I work until about 5:00, so I can come help with feeding those kids and maybe go back to the tech tower,” Virgil responded.

Soon after that point, Roman hung up then went to get ready for bed. As he stared at himself in the mirror, Roman began to realize that he was starting to feel romantic feelings for Virgil. Not that Roman was necessarily complaining, but it was unexpected. Then again, Roman was always the romantic one. Roman went bed, contemplating what he was going to do new feelings.

Virgil was walking out to his car after work and got in as he received a text from Roman. It was telling Virgil where to get the pizza from.

Virgil walked into the theater with the pizzas and was met with a slightly frantic Roman. Virgil walked in, set the pizzas down and decided to calm Roman down. "What the fuck is wrong, Roman?" Virgil questioned, slightly concerned.

"Our mic guy got sick like 20 minutes ago so I need someone to work mics and by golly, I can't get anyone to help," Roman responded, starting to breathe like a french bulldog that has been walking for more than 10 minutes or hyperventilating.

"I can run mice so if you don't start breathing normally in the next ten seconds, you're bloodline will end," Virgil threatened.

"My bloodline is going to end because my twin and I are both gay so you made an empty threat," Roman countered, breathing deeply.

"Ok, that's fair. So tech tower still the same?" Virgil questioned.

"Wait, you're actually going to help me?" Roman asked, dumbfounded.

"Yes, you idiot. Now, what do I need to know?" Virgil asked, itching to be in his place.

"We don't need music, just mics. I'll send a backstage person up to help with mic checks. You are literally a lifesaver," Roman answered gratefully.

Virgil ran to the staircase that led to the tech tower, ready to be back in his element. Virgil always knew if being a therapist didn't work out, he would've done tech for theaters.

Mic checks happened and cast lists were given and before he knew it, Roman was on stage and introducing the play. And Virgil would deny it to his grave, but he definitely thought Roman was pretty cute with the light shining on his face and Roman's passionate tone introducing the play.

After the play, Roman profusely thanked Virgil who shrugged it off. The two decided they were both tired and Virgil helped Roman clean up and they headed home.

Roman walked into his apartment and was bombarded with questions on how the play went, if someone showed up to help with sound, and who did. Roman answered them with ease. Despite it being close to midnight, Logan and Patton decided to plan their Christmas eve party. Patton started with invites, “So who do we want to come?”

Roman started, “Well, I think we should invite Virgil and Emerson, along with Remus, since we haven’t seen him in a while.”

Logan nodded in agreement and said, “I also want to invite my cousin, Remy and his fiance Emile.”

Patton nodded as he wrote them down and asked, “What about Thomas? Also, do Virgil or Emerson have partners they would like to bring?”

“Virgil is single,” Roman chimed in.

“So is Emerson,” Logan added.

“Cool, quick question, Logan is your information on Emerson accurate, I just want to make sure,” Patton added.

“Yes, I saw him at work dealing with, what I believe Roman would call, ‘a Karen’. Afterward, we struck up a conversation about life and I happened to ask him,” Logan replied, confident in the information given to him. Logan also pretended not to see the light in Patton’s eyes when said information was supported.

“Ok, so what about Thomas?” Patton questioned since he had never gotten a direct answer.

Roman looked offended as he said, “Of course, why would we not invite him?”

“I didn’t want to assume. So we are at nine people, are there any others that we want to invite?” Patton questioned.

“I think that Thomas can bring a couple of people if he wants, he is your brother Patton, you talk to him. I don’t care who comes, I trust you guys,” Logan said, hoping that Patton saw the deeper meaning in the statement about trust. Logan thinks he did, as realization dawned on Patton soon after Logan said it.

The three finished planning quickly and afterward, Logan dragged Patton down next to him so they could cuddle. After a bit, Logan finally decided to bring up the figurative elephant in the room, he cleared his throat as a warning and started with a question, “Patton are you okay?”

“Of course, why would you ask that?” Patton asked, defensively.

Logan sighed at the lie and said, “Because I know you are lying. I am not going to force you to tell me but I really wish you would.”

Patton got really quiet as he realized he had been caught doing what he had criticized Emerson for. After a bit, he finally said, “I am polyamorous and I am pretty sure that I am falling for Emerson.”

Logan breathed a sigh of relief and said, “I am glad you told me. Now, we need to talk about this. Do you want to pursue a relationship with him?”

Patton nervously chuckled as he asked, “You are okay with this part of me?”

“Of course, I love all of you, even what society thinks is unconventional. Now can we talk about this?” Logan asked.

“Sure and to answer your previous question, yes I do, if he wants to,” Patton admitted.

“Can we discuss boundaries then?” Logan asked.

“Absolutely, I am willing to listen and discuss,” Patton answered.

Logan smiled at how excited Patton was for the obvious support that he had never been given, then he got a little mad about Patton’s previous partners. He brushed that off and said, “It’s obviously not a lot and I think if Emerson agrees, we still need to talk to him. For me, all I ask is, if you guys ever do it, use protection, please don’t make fun of me or gossip, and if you feel that one of us isn’t working, don’t be afraid to talk or end a relationship, even if you’re guilty because it is with me.”

Patton nodded and said, “I can definitely handle those. Two questions, Do you want this to be a 3-way relationship? And do you care if I talk about him?”

“For now and this is subject to change, no. Secondly, I don’t care and if it makes you feel better, I will let you know if I get uncomfortable,” Logan answered.

December 22, 2019, will be forever ingrained into Virgil’s brain, to be specific, 11:32 pm on December 22, 2019. That is because it is the Virgil realized that he was falling in love with Roman Darcy. It was a normal night of texting and suddenly the man decides he can just sleepily Facetime Virgil. Naturally, Virgil answered and was met with a freaking cute, sleepy Roman and it was over for Virgil. Roman had called to invite Virgil to a Christmas eve party and Virgil agreed. Afterward, Roman proceeded to ramble about Beetlejuice the Musical and how it really fits Virgil’s aesthetic for about fifteen minutes until Virgil says he needs to sleep because he has work early in the morning. After Roman said goodbye and ended the call, Virgil did not sleep, he wrestled his emotions.

It was Christmas eve and Emerson and Virgil were knocking on the door. The door was opened by Logan and when he questioned why they were here so early, Emerson answered, “Patton texted me to come a bit early and I decided to bring Virgil along because I can. You can send him home if necessary.” Virgil smacked Emerson’s arm with that statement and Logan chuckled.

“Patton is in the kitchen Emerson, Virgil, we could get to know each other better,” Logan offered.

“Well Mr. Darcy, you drive a hard bargain but I shall accept,” Virgil drawled.

The two moved to the living room while Emerson walked to the kitchen only to be met by an obviously nervous Patton. Patton dragged Emerson to the hall and back by a bathroom, took a deep breath, and started, “There are two things I need to tell you. Firstly, I am polyamorous. Secondly, I am starting to care about you in a romantic sense.”

“I like you too, but what about Logan?” Emerson questioned.

“Logan and I have already had a basic conversation about this and if you want to do this, he wants to talk to both of us,” Patton answered.

“Ok, let’s talk about this first,” Emerson said.

While those two were talking, Logan and Virgil were discussing the party and who would be there.

“Well, Roman’s twin, Remus will be there, Patton’s brother Thomas, my cousin Remy, along with Remy’s fiance, and possibly a couple of other people,” Logan said.

“Wait. Is Remy not Roman’s cousin too? I assumed you two were related,” Virgil responded, confused.

“Well, Roman and I are stepbrothers, my father married their mother when I was younger and adopted Roman and Remus. They took the Darcy last name. Roman claims Remy as an honorary cousin though,” Logan answered.

“Oh, that’s fun. Has Roman always been this extra or stubborn?” Virgil asked.

“Sadly,” Logan sighed, “Although, some would say that I am the same as him.”

“I guess it’s definitely possible. But I have only seriously talked to you like twice,” Virgil said.

“Yeah, that’s fair,” Logan admitted, “Anyways, this party is more like a get-together. We get pizza and snack food, some alcohol, unspiked punch, and other beverages. We occasionally play party games and such. It is pretty laid back.”

“That’s good. Did we need to bring a contribution?” Virgil asked.

“No. We are good,” Logan answered.

Right after Logan said that Roman emerged from his room. He was obviously unaware that Virgil was there and Roman was not at his finest. Logan chuckled and when this happened, Roman exclaimed, “What are you laughing at, Jester?”

“Well, Virgil is here and you are quite obviously unaware. I just find that amusing,” Logan said bluntly.

“Alright, Microsoft Nerd. I will have you know that even if Virgil were here, which he isn’t, I wouldn’t care,” Roman exclaimed, still not looking in the living room.

“Hey Princey,” Virgil said, teasing Roman.

Logan would treasure the look on Roman’s face forever and hoped he never forgot it because it was a figurative gift.

Soon after Roman’s cruel jumpscare, he noticed that Patton and Emerson walked into the living room and whispered to Logan about something. Roman decided to grab Virgil, not literally of course, however, he called, “Hey Virgil, I need to show you something in the hallway.” Virgil got up and followed Roman, obviously reading the situation.

The two went to Roman’s room, looked around at Roman’s stuff, bonded, pined hopelessly, and shared memes until the party.

At the Christmas Eve party, Virgil mingled with the people at the party. He met Remus, who was interesting, Patton’s brother Thomas, and a few of Thomas’ friends. He also found out that his boss, Dr. Picani, was engaged to Logan’s cousin Remy; not that Virgil didn’t know that the doctor was engaged or the name of said fiance, but Virgil just never connected the dots. Turns out that Remy works in a coffee shop where Virgil tends to get coffee. He also enjoyed some food and by later in the evening, Virgil was a bit tipsy but still in control of his mind and body, just a less anxious and inhibited. So when Virgil ended up under the mistletoe with Roman on accident near the end of the party, he didn’t resist as much as he might have if sober when Roman said they should keep the tradition of kissing. So they did and as soon as Virgil realized what he had done, he calmly moved on and went to tell his roommate he was leaving early. So after interrupting Patton and Emerson and alerting his roommate where he was going, he left, calmly and quietly.

Once he was in the safety of his own apartment, Virgil broke down. He started to hyperventilate and cry. He felt like he was dying. Somewhere in his brain, he thought of his grounding techniques, and by think of them, he means he saw the paper on the wall that Emerson had made him tape there in case Virgil had a panic attack alone. While he would never admit that his roommate was right, Virgil was grateful that it was there. After Virgil calmed down, he decided to shower and get some sleep that he desperately needs.

Roman was majorly confused. Not just the normal amount of confusion that he dealt with, that most people experience, but majorly confused. He figured that Virgil wasn’t more than a little tipsy since he had only drunk a little bit of champagne. Maybe Virgil was more inebriated than originally thought or maybe Roman was wrong about Virgil liking him. He would never truly know unless he approached Virgil. However, he couldn’t do that since he couldn’t find Virgil. Roman had planned this the night of the play. His plan had backfired and he needed to do damage control. Roman looked around, asked Emerson, and found out that Virgil had left and gone back to his apartment. Roman decided to listen to the logical voice in his brain and wait until the next day to talk to Virgil, so he mingled until everyone was home and went to bed, troubled.

Emerson was very happy, he’d even go as far as ecstatic. The guy he likes is attracted to him too. They are going together. Things were looking up for him. Everything except Virgil, and in turn, Roman. The thing is, Emerson knows that Virgil likes Roman, he has known for a while because Virgil is not really inconspicuous. Emerson also saw what happened last night under the mistletoe and figured that Roman felt the same. So Emerson sat at the table, awaiting Virgil.

When Virgil emerged from his bedroom, ragged and tired, Emerson knew his friend had a rough night dealing with everything. Pushing coffee towards him, Emerson said, “You look like you need it.” He knew Virgil would talk about it when he was ready.

Virgil sipped some coffee, cleared his throat and said, “I made a major mistake as you probably saw.”

“Well, Patton just texted me sharing Roman’s state. Not great, fix that,” Emerson aggressively shared.

“Why do I have to do that now? It’s still raw and how do you know it’s my fault?” Virgil asked defensively.

“It isn’t just your fault but some of the fault is on you. You are an adult, you need to communicate with him and fix this. At least before the new year,” Emerson parented.

“Fiiiiiiiiiiinnnneeeeeeee,” Virgil groaned. Virgil did intend on talking to Roman, just not today. He would tomorrow since Roman likely wanted to spend Christmas with his friends and family. So tomorrow would work for him.

Little did Virgil know, that tomorrow would turn into the next day, and the day after that, and the day after that, until almost a week later he saw Roman getting mail and decided that he needed to say something. Clearing his throat, Virgil spoke up, “Hey Roman.”

Roman turned around and saw the man who had captured his heart and ripped it to pieces. Close to tears, he responded with a simple hey.

Virgil could tell that Roman was upset and said, “We definitely need to talk. Are you free now?”

“Not sure I want to talk to you honestly. However, I figured it would happen eventually so let me text my friends and let them know so they don’t worry,” Roman agreed reluctantly.

“Ok, I need to do the same,” Virgil replied.

They both sent their texts then decided to walk through the walkway in their apartment complex. Roman didn’t want to be the first to say something but in the time that Roman had gotten to know Virgil, he knew Virgil wouldn’t start.

“So about Christmas Eve,” Virgil started.

Ok so Roman was wrong, he could accept that. In fact, more than happy to accept it right now. So Roman continued with a simple reply of Christmas eve.

“I shouldn’t have taken advantage of you, I felt and still do feel really bad about it,” Virgil blurted.

“What? Why do you think you were taking advantage of me?” Roman yelled, questioning what the heck had gotten into his emo nightmare.

“I had seen you with alcohol and assumed. Plus, who would want to be with me,” Virgil reasoned.

“Firstly, you also drank alcohol. Secondly, I want to be with you,” Roman confessed.

“You barely know me,” Virgil countered.

“I know enough, we can get to know each other when dating,” Roman argued.

“I am not sure you would want to stay with me if you knew me and I don’t need to get hurt,” Virgil admitted.

“So, you don’t know that, you obviously like me a lot and don’t know enough about me. No one wants to hurt but it is part of life, once we can accept that, life gets easier. And to paraphrase the 11th Doctor, happiness is important because it can help with sadness later. I would prefer to have happy memories even if we don’t work out,” Roman said, wanting to reach this boy that he had grown to love.

“Can I think about this and let you know on New Year’s?” Virgil questioned.

“Of course, you can even let me know at the New Year’s Eve party,” Roman offered.

Virgil gave a simple alright as he walked back with Roman. Roman was happy he had talked with Virgil and figured some stuff out.

Roman walked into his apartment, lighter and happier than he had originally been. Patton could tell that something good had happened. As he sat in the living room with his boyfriend who had ended up falling asleep during their movie session, Patton smiled and texted his other boyfriend that things may have worked out.

As Virgil walked into his apartment Emerson decided to speak up with a comment, “Maybe I should stop sending you to get the mail. You take a long time.”

Virgil jumped a bit then looked and saw it was his idiotic roommate. “Dude, I hate you. I finally talked to Roman, like you suggested. So there you go,” Virgil said.

“Good for you on listening to me, also I knew because Patton texted me thinking some progress was made,” Emerson replied flippantly, “You two finally together because I am sick of watching you two pine for each other.”

“No, we aren’t, I need to think about some stuff first. Also, stop gossiping about me with your boyfriend,” Virgil whined like a teenager.

Virgil left the living room and went to his room to work on commissions and think about his feelings towards Roman and a relationship.

An hour and a half later, Virgil had finished a project and decided what he wanted to do about Roman.

It was New Year’s Eve and Logan was sick of watching his stepbrother try to perfect the arrangement of their alcohol and decorations. He could tell Roman was nervous to hear about Virgil’s decision about a relationship. Of course, Logan knew what Virgil had decided, he had received a text asking for details about the party and Logan had asked. After swearing to secrecy, Virgil had told him. If Logan was honest, he found it quite humorous watching the mini freakout that Roman was watching. Eventually, Patton tapped Roman on the shoulder and told him to go relax and breathe.

Virgil knew that the party had started at 10 pm, but Virgil knew he wouldn’t be able to avoid Roman for two hours so, he was showing up at 11:30. Virgil knocked on the door and saw that Emerson had answered it. Virgil asked a quick question, “Roman’s location?”

“Kitchen,” was the only reply that Virgil needed. So he walked into the living room and began talking with his coworker and friend, Dr. Picani for a few minutes and proceeded to move on. He followed this cycle until about five minutes to midnight when Roman found Virgil. Virgil finished his statement and excused himself, very aware that Roman was anxious for an answer. They were barely in the hallway when Roman asked, “So, what’s your decision?”

“Wow Princey, no ‘Hi, how are you’ just straight to what I can do for you,” Virgil teased.

“Hi Virgil, how are you?” Roman asked flippantly.

“I am great, how are you, Roman?” Virgil said, continuing to tease.

“Very nervous,” Roman said, clearly irritated.

“Oh, why is that?” Virgil said, feigning innocence.

“Well the boy I love is refusing to tell me his decision,” Roman stated. Right as Roman had said that, the countdown to midnight started.

“Well here is the answer you so desperately want,” Virgil said, and when the countdown hit zero, Virgil kissed Roman, when he was done, Virgil asked, “Did that answer your question?”

“Yes, it did,” Roman said and kissed Virgil again, “Want to go out next Saturday night?”

“I should be free,” Virgil teased as he grabbed the hand of the boy he had fallen for.

“All of this over a crockpot too,” Roman commented.

Virgil smacked him and said, “Are you complaining, cause like give me the crockpot and I will go.”

“Just kidding,” Roman teased and kissed the very happy emo.

56 notes · View notes

vanchlo · 5 years ago

Text

The Assistant / Chapter Twenty Seven, “Meet Me in the Hallway”

New to the story or want to catch up? Find all chapters HERE! :-)

Ok I didnt forget this time :/

* SNEAKYYYYYYYYY PEEK TIME *

“Why’re you annoyed I said that? Is it ‘cause that’s what you want? Did I expose your secret fantasy? ‘Cause ya know you can still go and date him, maybe it’s even easier now that you don’t work for him anymore.”

“Robbie, stop.”

“I can keep a secret. Scout’s honor.”

“No, you can’t! You always say that and it’s never true. And you were never in Boy Scouts,” I scoff, holding onto tufts of his jean jacket.

“I was too! Now, stop avoiding the question. Why won’t you give Harry another chance?” Robbie continues, veering back to the topic I so conveniently changed.

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

“Hmmm, I don’t think I believe you, Ree,” Robbie tsks. “But I’m going to get the truth out of you one of these times.”

P.S - I apologize for any spelling/grammar errors or stuff that should be bolded/italicized that I missed, I already edited this chapter on here a few times and Tumblr kept losing it ugh.

Enjoy!

“I don’t know,” she replies, yanking at the corners of my heart. A sigh escapes my lips when I feel my heavy head fall into my hands. “M-my dad,” Becky continues, but her words collapse into tears before too long.

I almost tell her that I already know, but my lips stop just in time. I don’t want her to get mad at Asher. And if I’m honest, our secret elevator meetings to talk about her are the highlight of my week. But my lips search for something to say. The sound of her tears is all I can hear, no matter how badly I ache to take them away.

“He has c-cancer, Harry,” Becky says, her words tumbling out sloppily. They pull at my heart again, making it fall another notch.

“Fuuuuuuuuck . . . . ’m so sorry, Becks . . . . Are ya okay?”

“No, w-why would I be? How could I be?” she responds, her words falling out fast.

“Becks . . have ya been drinkin’, love?” I ask tentatively, wincing when I hear her groan.

“I don’t wanna ‘ear it. Imma grown woman. I can bloody drink if I want t’ and-,” she argues, her voice steely. I’m caught off guard by the confrontation, and it only makes me feel worse.

“Tha’s not what I meant, love. I jus’ . . . ,” I try, my train of thought fleeing me. All of my thoughts do, because I wasn’t expecting this. I don’t even know if I’d have any better idea of what to say if I’d had notice she was going to call. That she was going to remember who I was for the first time in 9 months. “Are ya atta pub? Cuz I jus’ wanna know yer safe. I can leave an’ give ya a lift home if ya need,” I finish, unsure of how she’ll take my words.

She’s quiet and it only makes the scary thoughts buzz louder in my head.

What if she gets the idea to drive herself home?

What if some drunk bloke bothers her and she can’t fend for herself?

What if she tries to walk home in the rainstorm?

What if she keeps drinking, not knowing when to stop?

What if-

“No, I’m at home. In me bed. I’m not st- dumb, Harry,” she slurs, showing me a side of her I’ve never seen. We’ve had drinks together before - in my office or rarely at a pub. But she never got drunk before.

“I don’ think ya are, bug,” I counter, the nickname falling effortlessly from my tongue. “’m really sorry ‘bout yer dad. D’ya know how bad it ‘s yet?”

“Noooo, other than that ’s somewhere . . . like in uh Stage 2 . . or somefiing,” Becky answers, her words all over the place. “It’s t-the prostate. Ya know that fing that uh . . . is . . where ‘s it ‘gain?” One of her many words that don’t make much sense.

“Ya I know what it ‘s an’ where. I uh have one of ‘em,” I finish for her. I’m rewarded by hearing her decadent laugh. A sound I’ve craved and missed for so long. I missed it more than I thought I had, I realize as a smile pulls my cheeks upwards.

“Oh ya. I uh kinda forgot ‘bout dat,” she titters, encouraging a chuckle from my now smiling lips.

But her laugh fades first and mine follows. Because she didn’t call to laugh at my lame jokes, or to catch up on things we’ve missed in each other's lives. No, not really.

“He’d been ‘aving pains. So bad he can’t eat, or use the uh loo . . He told me when we was there wit’ Robbie and . . . . he looked baaad,” she tells me, her voice catching on the last word. I feel my heart shudder in pain again, and suddenly I realize the validity of the second-hand pain phenomenon. “And I jus’ dunno ‘ow I’m gonna do dis. I wanna help him and take care o’ him . . . But I’m t’ree hours ‘way and . . . I just dunno how t’ do dis.”

“There’s no real setta rules, love. No guideline or brochure fer how t’ handle it . . Ya jus’ gotta do yer best, an’ love him . . ‘m sorry,” I tell her, not knowing what else to say.

“You’re sorry?” she laughs, pulling my eyebrows into a knot. “Tha’s a firssssst.”

I listen to her laugh some more, savoring it. But I’m also confused and a little offended. But then it stops abruptly and I hear her sniffle. “I’m the one whoooo should be sorry,” she begins, tears lacing into her words. And taking all of mine with them. “You’re just trynaaaa help, and I’m bein’ mean and rude just like I always am to ya. Ughhhh, I dunno why I even called.”

“No, ‘s okay. Yer goin’ thru a lot an’ . . . I appreciate ya callin’. I jus’ hope ‘m helpin’,” I say quickly, dropping a hand in defeat. It finds its way to my pants and I pick at the loose thread that’s been bothering me all day.

“But I am, Harry! I’m mean and I make no sense a-and I’m jus’ loadin’ onto ya. But I dunno who else t’ call, cuz ’m tryna t’ be strong forrrrr Robbie. And not worry Skye, an’ I jus’ dunno what t’ do, Harry,” Becky says, the last of her words dissolving into sobs. Biting my lip at the sound of her crying into my ear, I keep biting and biting as she cries. I yank at the thread and feel it dig into my skin, but I don’t let go. “I don’t wanna lose me dad afta I already lost you.”

It takes a few seconds of telling myself, but I slowly release my bottom lip. I huff, swiping my tongue across my lips. I taste the metally blood coming from the stinging cut. And then the warm taste of salt joins it on my tongue. Pressing my lips together, the pain only intensifies. But I let it stay as tears roll down my cheek. My finger burns, but only for a few short seconds when I finally rip the thread from my pants. It doesn’t compare to the pain I feel inside of my chest, like a vice around my heart. Tightening and throbbing.

The line grows silent, but I know she’s there. Because I hear her shallow breathing, and the occasional sniffle. And I know that she’s still crying, because I hear the whimpers that she tries to hide. Even if she is drunk. And the pain only keeps coming, because I hate that I can’t do anything to stop hers. Nothing at all.

“I miss ya so much, Becks,” I whisper, not believing the words coming from my mouth. But they feel good. Freeing. Almost exciting.

“I . . . I do too, b-but I can’t go down that road ‘gain, Harry. I- I can’t do this,” she rushes. I hear noises on her line, but I can’t get out the words before the it goes dead. Silence.

I feel my phone slide from my hands slick with tears. It falls to the floor with a thud, but I hardly hear it. Because her voice is drowning out the sounds of everything else.

The thunder.

The rain falling harder by every second.

I press the pads of my fingers into my eyes and let my own rain fall. My fingers grow wet with every tear. Every single one I held in as her voice graced my ears. The tears that grew from the pain I heard in her voice. From when I heard about her dad’s diagnosis. And I think the ones I’ve been pushing away for a long time.

The rain welcomes a friend, and I join the drops drilling against the glass until the storm passes. But I know that although the storm inside of me passed for a little while, that it’s only come back stronger. The velvety sofa cushions and pillow welcome my tired body. I fall into a fitful sleep with her comforting voice dancing through my head. The only place I can see her again, and where I didn’t fuck everything up.

“Don’t worry, Becky. We’ll get this all figured out. You just do your best and take care of yourself and your father. Keep me updated on what you learn, and if you need extensions. Alright?”

“I can’t tell you how grateful I am,” I reply emphatically.

He nods before patting my arm and telling me to have a good day. I return it before leaving his office and feeling the slightest weight leave my shoulders. That was the easy part, I think to myself as I find my way through the twisty halls.

Looping my arm through my other backpack strap, I turn a corner and keep walking. I feel my heartbeat start to slow down after that nervous meeting with Professor Alcott, finishing up my afternoon of meeting with my professors. I couldn’t even believe the words leaving my mouth to grace their ears.

My dad was diagnosed with Stage 2 prostate cancer recently. We still don’t know a lot, but I wanted to let you know. I plan to still stay enrolled in the program and I’m committed to my courses. At the same time, I’m going to do what I can to take care of him. I will keep you updated as I learn more, but there are still a lot of unknowns at this point and . . . , I think, pausing the track I had on repeat for the last few hours. I had to figure out what to say, then rehearse it, and then say all of those words to the stern-looking expressions of my professors. Two of whom I’ve never even met before, because I’m taking their classes online. But my advisor, Sally, told me it would be best to meet with them in person. It’s more personal and shows your commitment blah blah, she said.

I’m just glad to have that part over with, I sigh inwardly.

The first fallen leaves of Fall crunch under my lace up purple Vans. The crisp air welcomes me. For a few seconds, I lose myself in the beginnings of the changing colors of Autumn. But the incessant worrying thoughts that have plagued my mind sit at the back, ready to pounce. I was rather numb for the first several days. I didn’t know how to function normally. Let alone inform my professors professionally and in person about the events that just rocked my life. I’m relieved that they were all very accommodating and kind to me about the news. But I know that the hard work is just about to begin.

A U2 song pours from my speakers as I back out of my parking space and start my journey home. I try to lose myself in the beloved lyrics, but it’s hard. When they become too relatable and too nostalgic, I skip it and the stereo player whirs as it thinks. My Spotify chooses a song at random - a favorite by Vance Joy. I roll my windows down and try to sing along.

I close my apartment door with my foot, sifting through the mail.

A bill. An advert for Skye. Another bill. Another cosmetology advert for Skye. An advert from my uni. Something Skye ordered from Amazon. A random magazine subscription that I most definitely don’t want to subscribe to. A sheet of Domino’s coupons. And a square periwinkle envelope with my name scrawled across the front. No return address.

My feet stop in the middle of toeing off my shoes. The one falls to the floor with an echoing thud. I swallow and pad slowly over to the kitchen island. Pushing Skye’s mess over, I let the pile of mail fall with a slap. With one shoe still on, I soon find myself sitting on the arm of the sofa. Backpack still heavy on my shoulders. Keys still hanging around my finger. But all I can focus on is the periwinkle envelope in my hands. And that familiar handwriting.

I hug it to my chest and tap my fingers along it as I think.

I know what it feels like, but I don’t know if I want to open it.

Because I know what will happen if I do.

But I can’t deny the first bubbles of excitement rising in my chest.

The first feelings of happiness I’ve felt in 11 days.

11 days since my dad announced that he has cancer. The dreaded C word.

My thumb does the first rip without me barely registering it. My excited heartbeat eggs me on. I try to rip it neatly, and leave the pretty envelope intact. But I’ve never been good at opening mail neatly. It’s just too exciting. I see the cursive word on the back first. The card company’s name.

The card is a periwinkle purple, like the envelope. He remembered it’s my favorite. My eyes fall closed without warning when I feel the hard square inside of the card. A sigh escapes my lips. It only grows longer when I feel the tiny imprints the pen left from pressing down hard in the author’s hand.

Exhaling slowly, I flip the card over and find a saying that I glance over. The cursive words made permanent by gold lettering tug at my heart. But I know that’s only the beginning. My finger pries at the opening and runs along the inside, feeling the bumpy impressions of the ink words. I rip the bandaid off and open it. But before I read anything, I grab a hold of the plastic square. I place it behind the card in my grip.

One step at a time.

The inside of the card is painted with sloppy black writing. At the sight of it, I watch my sight grow hazy. Starting at the beginning, I blink and feel the first tear fall when I see my name.

Harry’s name for me.

Dear Becks,

I saw this card and thought of you. The little bunny on the front just screamed your name, and well it harassed me during my whole shopping trip to buy it. Isn’t it just adorable? It made me think of the story you told me once about the baby bunny you found with your dad that was hurt. You both nursed it back to health before it hopped away back into the woods. Or your Dad called the animal services to take it to rehabilitate it. You said you couldn’t remember. Anyways, it made me think of you and the unimaginable pain you’re going through. You and your family. I never had the pleasure to meet your Dad but I wanted to extend my sympathies. He must be a pretty incredible man seeing how well you and Robbie turned out. You always spoke fondly of him. I know you’re very close to him, and because of that I know this is even harder for you. I’m so sorry. I’ve been thinking of you and your family often, and wishing there was something I could do to help. I’m so sorry, Becks. I really am. I don’t think there’s much else I can say to comfort you right now, or if there is I don’t know what it is. I’d just suggest doing what you can to be with your father during this time, and although it may be difficult to see him in pain, I think you’d be happy if you were there. No matter how things turn out, I think it would mean a lot to the both of you. I’ve experienced grandparents and loved ones passing, and it’s the shits but whoever said that it’s better to suffer together than by yourself was right. But please take care of yourself too. I don’t know what your plans are, but please don’t load your plate too full. Okay? I’m sorry, but you won’t be much help to your Dad if you’re giving yourself too much work. I’m so sorry that this is happening to you, Becks. It pains me more than you could know to know that you’re going through this. You and your family will be in my thoughts and prayers during this difficult time. Please let them know that. Take care of yourself, please. For you and your dad. If there is anything at all I can do to help please don’t be afraid to let me know. In the meantime, I hope that this Visa gift card will help. I recall you said you’re from Madley and your dad still lives there, which is quite the trip. I hope this money will help pay for petrol, meals, hospital bills, and anything else that may help make you and your dad comfortable. Myles’ brother who’s a doctor knows of some good docs at The Royal London Hospital where he works - if you’re interested, just give him a ring. I’ll be praying for a hopeful diagnosis and outlook for your dad, and that he recovers from this. I hope you’re hanging in there, Becks. Just take it one day at a time.

Harry xxxxx

My chest shakes with a sob as I breathe in, but it’s so hard. And it hurts. Closing the card, I cover my face with it. And feel the warm tears paint my cheeks. I don’t know where they come from or how I haven’t ran out of them yet, but they keep coming. Without knowing it, I find myself sliding off the sofa and down onto the floor to rest against the sofa. Ugly sounds leave my lips and my body shakes with each sob. For the first time in days, there’s a feeling inside of me stronger than sadness for my dad.

Longing.

Missing.

I miss Harry. And I let myself feel all of it. Like I haven’t been letting myself for months. I forgot how much I missed him.

The way he could make me laugh.

How he always knew what to say without worrying it being the right thing.

His sunshine smile.

His molasses like voice - deep, rich, and syrupy sweet.

And most of all, the way his hugs fixed me like a bandaid. I feel my heart wrench with everything I miss, but it especially hurts when I think about how much I miss his hugs. And how badly I crave one right now. No, I need one.

I cry harder at that, because apparently things can get worse right now, I think inside the chaos that is my mind.

I miss my dad, even though I saw him yesterday when I went back home. And then I miss Harry, even though I kicked him out of my life. Even though I heard his molasses voice the other day when I mistakenly called him after drinking a bottle of wine.

I miss him so much and it hurts.

I didn’t know that I could even hurt more than I already was.

And I wouldn’t have guessed that his card warms my heart, and breaks it at the same time.

My thumb wavers over the keyboard of letters, indecisive and lost. I groan and walk away, padding out of the room and into our main living area.

“You better be getting a snack since you didn’t eat dinner,” Skye calls out to me from her perch on the sofa.

“Okay, Mom,” I retort, searching the shelves of the fridge. It sounds bad, but it only took Skye a major life event to do a decent job at grocery shopping, I recount. Grabbing a yogurt from the drawer, an apple, and a spoon from others, I leave with my dinner in hand.

The food falls to my desk with a clatter as my attention diverts to my phone. Waking it back up, I see the words I had typed out before. Without another thought, I press Send. With wide eyes and a shaky hand, I lay my phone face down away from me. I’ve only gotten settled and read a few lines from my textbook when my phone chimes. With teenage jittery excitement, I stare at it for a few seconds before daring to pick it up. My heart does a somersault in my chest at the sight of the name.

Harry.

I read over my text first, and then read his.

Hi. I can’t thank you enough for the incredibly sweet card. The gift card was more than generous. I don’t know which I cried more at. Just THANK YOU. A lot. I don’t know how many times I can say that. It was so kind of you to think of me and my dad.

Harry

hi! stop it youre more than welcome. im glad you liked the card. i wasnt sure if it was 2 dorky. u better not have cried at it. im here if u need anything. have a good night xxxx

My thumbs dance around on the screen. But before long, I set it down and try to immerse myself in my textbook. But it’s hard, because all I can do is think about him and our texts. I was texting him and we were talking, my over excited teenage-like mind thinks. But the adult part of it sweeps it under the rug, or tries to. Those two parts fight each other as I struggle to make sense of the chapter I’m reading. Because the teenage girl side wants to text him back, but the adult side argues there’s nothing to say. And that won’t I just get hurt again? I find myself nodding at that. Or more so, the argument it makes about there being no point in it. But the teenaged side reads into his words and grows excited at some of them. Talk about distracting.

“Oh my god, just stop!” I mutter aloud, covering my ears but it doesn’t work. Groaning, I flip the page and read on.

He helped and his card stands on my desk now, but I need to focus on my dad. And school. And this fricken boring chapter that I have an upcoming quiz on.

Voices carry down the tiled hallways. The sounds of footsteps sound like ghosts around me. So do the memories I have of these halls. Ones that stab at my insides as I walk further into them. I turn a corner and find the light at the end of the tunnel. He senses me and looks up. He shows a small smile as he crosses his arms over his chest. He’s continued to ignore the the circle of chairs in the waiting area. Instead, he leans against the wall nearby the door we’ve been staring at.

“Is he done with his labs yet?”

He shakes his head no, narrowing his eyes at me. “You said you weren’t going to go and cry in the bathroom, you liar,” Robbie jokes, but I don’t laugh. He purses his lips and holds his arm out for me.

I walk into them and rest my head on his chest. “Yeah well, you tell everybody that you’re the older twin when you’re not,” I quip with a sniffle. A laugh rumbles underneath my cheek.

“That’s ‘cause I am.”

“No, you’re not. Dad only said that when we got in fights to make you feel better,” I reply, closing my eyes and listening to his heartbeat. For some reason, his hugs never fail to calm me down. After a fight we had whether we were 5 or 15, when I snuck into his bed at night when mom and dad were fighting, after a pet died, even after a bad day at school, and especially lately with dad’s diagnosis. It only strengthens my belief about the whole twin thing.

He scoffs in reply and my lips find a laugh. “I want to see our birth certificates and settle this once and for all.”

I giggle into his warm chest and close my eyes. But then the thoughts and not longer after, the tears arrive. Robbie squeezes me and tickles my back with his fingers.

“They sounded hopeful at least,” he says quietly.

“Yeah, but they want to do chemo before and after surgery.”

“I know, but they said they have to be sure. If things look good when they’re doing the surgery, like clean margins or whatever it was, then he might not need chemo afterwards,” Robbie points out and I nod, feeling the damp spots on his shirt from my tears.

“He seems like he’s holding it all together pretty well.”

“Yeah he’s always had super strength. Remember in primary when we wrote that dad was our hero-.”

“And mom got mad,” I finish for him, adding my laughter to his.

“Yeah. And even though we made that superhero poster about him, I never stopped seeing him as a superhero,” Robbie says, slowly trailing off when the emotions steal his words.

“Bee, stop, you’re gonna make me cry even more.”

He laughs for a second, but then I hear him start to cry. His chest trembles underneath me. I give up and cry with him.

“Harry sent me a card in the mail,” I sob, hiccuping in between words.

“He did? I always knew I liked that guy. What’d it say?”

Something half-scoff and half-laugh is my response before I take a big breath. “I don’t know, it was just so sweet and kind. He said that he’s thinking of all of us, and told me to take care of myself. He said he knows it’s hard to see people you love suffering, but that it’s better to suffer together than on your own,” I choke out, tears drowning my words. “The card had a bunny on it. He said he got it because I told him the story of how Dad and I saved that hurt bunny. I wish he could’ve met dad when I still worked there . . And he sent a $150 Visa gift card to use for bills, petrol, and food.”

“Wow, that’s crazy generous. Wait, what? You two didn’t save it, the animal control people did,” Robbie argues and I just shake my head. “And don’t say it like that. Dad’s too stubborn to die, you know that. And with how much you talk about Harry, I’m sure you guys are gonna get coffee one day and fall in love and get married,” he continues, his voice quickly turning mocking and girly. I laugh and shove him, stepping away with a laugh.

“What?” he laughs. His voice is still under water, as is mine. “Why’re you annoyed I said that? Is it ‘cause that’s what you want? Did I expose your secret fantasy? ‘Cause ya know you can still go and date him, maybe it’s even easier now that you don’t work for him anymore.”

“Robbie, stop,” I reply, laughing with emotions fighting in my voice.

“C’mere,” he says, pulling me into his arms once again. “Ya know you can tell me. I can keep a secret. Scout’s honor.”

“No, you can’t! You always say that and it’s never true. You blabbed to the whole 1st grade I had a crush on Johnny Turner. Then, when I gave you a second chance, you did the same thing again in 8th grade with Willie. And you were never in Boy Scouts,” I scoff, holding onto tufts of his jean jacket.

“I was too!”

“Being it for one week and quitting because you went home in the middle of the first camp doesn’t count!”

“I still think it does. I have the outfit, sash, hat, and everything still. I made dad proud, and you know it. Now, stop avoiding the question. Why won’t you give Harry another chance?” Robbie continues, veering back to the topic I so conveniently changed.

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

“Hmmm, I don’t think I believe you, Ree,” Robbie tsks, his scratchy chin resting on top of my head. We hear the click of a door open, and I frantically wipe my eyes. “But I’m going to get the truth out of you one of these times.”

I roll my eyes at Robbie as I peer up at him. He winks before sloppily kissing my head.

“Come on, you rascals. Let’s get outta here before they try to poke me with any more needles,” our dad says, walking out of the room with his jacket folded over his arms.

I know he knows we’ve been crying, but he doesn’t mention it. I think another secret language is already starting to form between us. With Robbie’s arm around my shoulder, I grab hold of my dad’s hand. He turns to flash a tired smile at me, before placing a kiss on my forehead.

“Thanks for coming, guys,” he hums quietly as we stop in front of an elevator. His smile tugs at my heart. I’m just thankful to be able to still see it.

Stepping onto the elevator, he squeezes my hand hard, just like he always has done. “Dad, don’t!” I yelp and he chuckles under his breath.

After pressing the button for the lobby, I see Robbie’s lips bend upwards. This can’t be good. “Hey, dad, when we get home can you pull out our birth certs? I need to know the truth of who’s really the older twin.”

“Oh god. You two are 25 years old, when is this going to be over?!” my dad huffs, rubbing at his eyes, but with a smile. “Maybe I won’t take you with the next time, since it’s giving you existential crises,” he threatens, and we all fall into easy laughter.

“I’m gonna have an existential crisis if I found out you’ve been lying to me for my whole life,” Robbie exclaims and we all only laugh harder.

My backpack and coat fall to the floor with a heavy thud. With a yawn, I bend over to grab my things. The sound of chattering surrounds me. It slowly grows in volume as I sit there tiredly with my head down. I hear footsteps, laughs, and the scuffling of moved objects.

“Wake up!” a voice nudges at me. I groan angrily in response and hear laughter in response. I peek through a crack in my arm to find Ruby’s crazy red hair bobbing next to me. My newest friend from Criminology. “Just ‘cause we have a guest speaker today, doesn’t mean you can sleep.”

“Oh, that’s today?” I reply excitedly, returning to the warm cocoon of my arms.

“Yeah, but we still have to take notes. Ya know like last Wednesday when we had our first guest speaker? We had to write down questions for them, even if we don’t end up asking them. Alcott just wants us to get thinking and to well, pay attention. And not fall asleep like somebody! And then we have to write down 8 things that interested us, so get unpacking,” Ruby replies, her chipper voice drilling into my ears.

“Noooooo,” I moan, scrunching my face in secret.

I hear the door to the lecture hall close with a loud bang and Alcott laughs. “Alright, you lot, look alive. Our guest speaker has arrived and is ready to dazzle you this rainy Wednesday morning. Remember to be working on your page of ‘Ahas’ whilst he’s speaking. You’ll be passing it in at the end of class which is in 50 minutes,” Alcott announces. His Southern accent coming out in a few of his words.

“Shitttttt. I think I might like this guest speaker. Look at him, Becky. He is fineeeeeee,” Ruby whispers, elbowing me hard in the arm.

With a whimper, I sit up with a secret stretch. Combing my hair back, I rub at one of my eyes as they both struggle to focus.

“What, who’s fine? What’s fine?” another voice blurts out. I squint and look over to find Simon taking the seat on the other side of me. The little Criminology trio back together again.

“Not you being tardy, that’s not fine,” Ruby retorts with a smirk in her voice. I can’t help but smile. Simon flashes one at me as he combs a hand through his sandy hair after digging in his backpack.

“So without further ado, I’d like to introduce our guest speaker today. Harry Styles from Styles and Lawson. Let’s welcome Mr. Styles with open arms and give him our undivided attention, please.”

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” I mumble under my breath, coaxing a confused ‘what’ from Ruby and Simon’s lips .

“Hullo, class. My name ‘s Harry Styles, but ya can call me Harry. Ummmmm as Professor Alcott said, ‘m from tha London law firm Styles and Lawson. Me mate, Myles Lawson, makes up tha otha half o’ tha firm. This year it’ll be 5 years since we started tha firm togetha, which ‘s bloody crazy t’ me. Before, it was his dad’s firm, and long story short, Myles an’ I got togetha an’ here we are. Anyways, I make me rounds in London talkin’ t’ law classes. I’ve always enjoyed speakin’ t’ tha incomin’ lawyers an’ tellin’ some o’ me stories. An’ me favorite part - answerin’ questions. I thought ‘d start with how I got into law, tho’.”

Shit. I really should’ve known this would happen.

“Nothing,” I reply. “J-just hand me a piece of paper and a pencil, please,” I say briskly to Ruby.

The last thing I want is to make a single sound that will bring attention to me. But it seems like the universe doesn’t really care lately what I want. I’m already trying to figure out my odds of him spotting me in the sea of 50-so students. Amongst 35 or so ogling girls. Typical.

But the more my eyes focus and my ears attune themselves, I lose myself. I knew it wasn’t a dream when I heard the first word from his mouth. I’d know that voice anywhere. But when my eyes finally focus on the towering figure standing at the front of the room, my eyes struggle. Gone are his long curly locks, and replacing them is a short and curly quiff. I try to ignore the somersaults my insides are doing, but it’s terribly difficult.

Taking a deep breath, I savor listening to the words fall from those smiling cherry lips. In that slow, calming voice. Never being able to remain in one place, he paces around the front of the room slowly. Clad in a gray suit with a black button down, I slowly melt next to Ruby. Who from her choice of words, is doing about the same. Just in a less graphically described way than her. I can’t blame her, because somehow he has only gotten more handsome over the last year.

“Isn’t he just so nice to look at?” she croons.

“Oh yes,” I reply without thinking, and she sighs happily.

Simon groans in disgust, shaking his head. I see him out of the corner of my eye playing with the lead in his pencil. He tries to take it out in one piece before putting it back in. Rinse and repeat.

I bite my lip and somehow tear my eyes away and to the paper sitting in front of me. I scribble my name across the top. Numbering my page, I write down the first ‘aha’ I have.

1. Renowned lawyer with his own firm at 28. Almost unheard of.

Tapping the pencil absently at my thigh, I return my attention to the front. Playing with the rings donning his hands, Harry continues with the story of how he came to be a lawyer. One I can’t say I’ve heard before. Stuffing his hands in his pockets, he starts to walk again. Changing his focus from somebody in the front row, it suddenly floats up.

And lands on me.

Not only am I surprised, but so is he. The pencil between my fingers halts and altogether falls from my fingers. He stops mid sentence when his eyes lock with mine. My insides grow bubbly as a sparkle gleams in his eyes. I watch a grin unfold on his lips before he composes himself.

Clearing his throat, he asks, “I-I’m sorry, can somebody uh remind me what I was sayin’?”

Nervously, he combs a hand through his hair. Laughing, he thanks an eager girl in the front row when she reminds him. And soon enough, he’s back on track with a new nervousness to his voice, or excitement. I’m not sure which. And his eyes trail back to me after a few words, making a smile tickle at my lips.

Although hard, I look away and pretend to think of something to write. Feeling another pair of eyes on me, I look over and find Ruby’s hot on my cheek. I shrug at her jealous look and she just shakes her head. I laugh under my breath and she kicks me under the table.

I lose myself in Harry’s words for the rest of his talk, his maple syrupy voice like music to my ears.

He talks about starting his law firm with Myles.

Some of his favorite cases.

His first case.

His worst case.

His hardest case.

And then he goes on to answer questions. Ruby and I aren’t the only ones fawning over him, because most of the class is as well. Some girls are really flirting it up with Harry. He just relishes in the flattery, to no surprise. I try not to notice the few times he peeks at me when he looks for somebody to call on with a question.

“Why does he keep looking at you?” Ruby whispers to me as I write down another ‘aha.’ Some random takeaway from another story of his.

“How am I supposed to know?” I reply, twiddling with my pencil when I’m done. “Why don’t you ask him a question already? I can see the ants in your pants, Rube.”

“I don’t know, I think her question would be if he was single,” Simon jokes, garnering a few curse words from Ruby. I quietly laugh between their hushed argument.

“Well, ‘m gettin’ tha eye from Alcott, so I reckon that my time’s up with you lot. Thanks fer havin’ me an’ hopefully I wasn’t too boring t’ listen to,” Harry concludes at the front of the lecture hall.

I pretend I don’t hear Simon’s griping next to me. I can’t help but smile as I slide my backpack onto my shoulders.

“Not so fast, everybody. What do we say to Mr. Styles for speaking to our class today?” Professor Alcott pipes up. I join in on the class-wide thank you as I hand Ruby her pencil back.

“I bet you’ll be awake and ready for Wednesday lectures from now on,” she says, winking at me.

I roll my eyes with a grin as I start down the steps beside her. “Like you’re any better. I saw you both drooling from the corner of my eye,” Simon remarks.

“Maybe,” I say quietly, stuffing my hands into the pockets of my pullover quarter zip. The last syllable falls from my lips as my eyes pan over to find his head of dark curls.

Nearly at the uppermost row, my view wasn’t the best. As I near closer to him, his features sharpen and with the realization, my heart squeezes in my chest. Light stubble coats his dimpled cheeks as he smiles talking to a classmate of mine.

I’m only a few footsteps from the bottom now, following the slow line of people who are leaving. The angel and demon, for lack of better words, argue inside of my head. Should I go and say hi?

Yeah, why not?

No, why would you?

It would be rude if you didn’t.

It would be weird if you did.

But there are a handful of girls around him probably already flirting with him.

With an indecisive sigh, I clench my fists inside of my pockets. The two opposites inside of me clash, and I truly have no idea what to do. His card the other day was so kind and thoughtful. But I was a bitch the last time I saw him. I can’t believe it’ll be a year in two short months since I quit. Wow.

“I dunno why they’re bothering, it looks like he’s taken,” Simon snickers, earning a flick on the head from Ruby. “Don’t be a bitch just because I pointed out the truth. Can’t shoot the bloody messenger, Rube.”

I don’t intervene when Ruby chases after Simon to the door. Suddenly my feet stop around the corner from the stairs. Only a few more steps and he’d be out of my sight.

Again.

For who knows how long until next time.

I can’t take my eyes off of him. He really looks like he’s enjoying himself talking to law students. Up close, he really has grown more handsome over the last 11 months. I never thought that could be possible. Smiles crease his cheeks.And light up his eyes.

But when his left hand habitually goes to fix his quiff of curls, I see the gold ring Simon saw. He wore rings, but never that one. It’s like my heart is brought up from the bottom of the lake where it’s been, and takes another nose dive back down.

“Becky!” somebody calls for me. I blink and almost think it’s him. But when I look around for the culprit, I find Simon walking up to me.

I find it hard to squash the disappointment weighing inside of me. That it’s not Harry.

“Sorry, Si. W-what’d you say?” I reply, tearing my eyes away from Harry.

“Don’t look so sad he’s taken,” Si jokes quietly, putting an arm around me and squeezing my shoulder. I force a smile and walk to the door with him. “Wanna go get a coffee? Maybe that’ll cheer you up,” he suggests happily, his voice echoing in the hall to the door.

“Yeah sure,” I respond slowly, unsure of my words. I let him guide me out of the lecture hall and into the busy hallways.

Wow, Harry, you moved on from Amber that quick, huh? I think to myself with knitted brows and self-doubt. Swallowing, I try to push the nagging thought away. But I can’t, and I find myself barely able to carry on a conversation with Simon.

I thought seeing Harry in my lecture was one of the sweetest surprises. Instead, it feels like a happy dream that turned into a nightmare at the end.

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mdelpin · 5 years ago

Text

The Red Dragon - Chapter 22

AO3 | FF.Net | Tumblr: Ch1 | Ch21 @ao3feed-gratsu

Natsu had left the cave with no clear direction in mind. He'd just needed to get away. He'd meant what he'd said, he absolutely understood why Sting had done it, but that didn't lessen the pang of betrayal any. Sting was the only one he had trusted with his secret, it wasn't like he hadn't known what could happen.

He could almost hear his father in his head telling him there was no point in dwelling in things he couldn't do anything about, but after everything that had happened in the last few days, he wasn't capable of much else.

With nowhere else to go, he flew towards Drak Aast, trusting Atlas to get Weisslogia there on his own. Upon his arrival, he was greeted eagerly by all the dragons before getting flooded with problems that required his attention, grateful for the distraction they offered. He set to work on them, promptly ignoring Belserion's concerned expression at seeing him there at all.

By the time Atlas arrived a few days later, Natsu was on the other side of the island, mediating a dispute between the earth and rock dragons.

He spent months on the island immersing himself more and more in his duties, happy to see many dragons had already begun nesting. He was excited about the possibility of seeing plenty of hatchlings when he returned on his next visit. If they had a successful season, they might be able to bring their numbers up sooner than expected.

Natsu never stayed in any one area of the large island for long, moving along to the next one as soon as things had settled, and he had too much time to think. But no matter how much he did to try to keep himself busy, he could never escape his thoughts of Gray completely. The continuous physical ache was a consistent reminder of what he'd lost.

After entering a mating bond, a dragon needed to remain close to his mate for a full year. Any extended separation within that time was painful and to be avoided at all costs, with the intensity increasing every day. It was one of the reasons he had decided to wait when they had first confessed to each other, knowing he might have to leave at any moment.

While he was on the island, he could keep himself busy, but Natsu knew he should go home eventually. He'd only meant to be gone for a month or two, just enough time to process what had happened and accept his fate. But he could feel a pull at his bond, and he knew that it was Gray calling to him. He didn't know what to do, but he also knew he couldn't ignore it much longer.

0-0

Gray wiped the sweat off his brow with the back of his hand, taking a break from cutting wood with the saw he'd fashioned out of his ice. He had taken off Natsu's scarf so as not to get it dirty, setting it down neatly on top of his shirt. Lyon had taken off his shirt as well, the strenuous work making them both uncomfortably hot despite having set up the sawhorses by the lake.

After making sure no other nearby villages had been attacked by the black dragon, they'd set about rebuilding Talos to the best of their ability. Everyone chipped in as best they could, from the village guards all the way down to the orphans in Anna's care. Together they'd managed to get the village back into livable shape, forging a closer community along the way.

Gray noticed Erza and Juvia coming over carrying what looked to be two large picnic baskets and sat down, willing the breeze to pick up so he could cool his body without having to resort to magic. He looked forward to taking a break after a long morning spent doing construction work.

Things with Juvia had improved somewhat after that first disastrous night. He had apologized for the necklace incident, although he still didn't understand what had prompted it. It had not responded that way to anyone else. In return, she'd toned down her advances, which had made her a lot more pleasant to be around.

Lyon waved at the girls and hurried over to take the basket from Erza, taking a moment to kiss her in greeting before setting up a blanket where they stood.

Juvia kept walking towards Gray, giving the two lovers some space. She sat down next to him and smiled shyly.

"Juvia thinks Talos is beginning to look nice again," she remarked, absently grabbing some water from the lake and turning it into a cool mist she let fall on Gray, who smiled at her in appreciation.

"Thanks, it's murder out here."

Juvia nodded and stared out at the water, "It's so hard to believe how quickly everything was destroyed."

The dragon fight had ruined many buildings and caused many injuries, but miraculously no lives had been lost. Gray had been the one to suffer the most wounds, and since his memories had yet to return, he had no idea how bad they had really been.

He'd returned to the field in daylight, hoping it would trigger something, but outside of dismay at the large patches of blood splattered grass, there had been nothing.

It was a constant hum in his brain that he couldn't quiet. Where had he gone? Had he been alone? But no matter how much he thought on it, the answers still evaded him.

All he could remember for sure was that he had begun walking to Talos full of a feeling that something good was going to happen. Then he'd woken up in the field. As soon as the village repairs were done, he planned to return to the village where he'd taken that last job. Maybe if he retraced his steps, it would give him some sort of clue as to what had happened to him.

"How are the repairs to the orphanage going?" Gray asked, mostly to make conversation.

"We're almost done," Juvia assured him although her expression got a little teary. "Anna is a lovely woman, Juvia wishes there had been a place like that for her when she was younger."

"Yeah, she took care of most of my friends before they were adopted by… uhm before they were adopted." Gray caught himself before he revealed they'd been taken in by dragons, a fact that as he understood it, was not generally known.

"Are these the dragonslayers that left to fight in the war?" Juvia asked cautiously, her eyes searching his face for a reaction, suggesting she knew she was getting close to a forbidden topic.

"Yes," Gray replied and immediately opened the picnic basket to see what was inside, not wanting to invite any further discussion, but Juvia seemed to be on some sort of mission.

"And the scarf you wear belongs to your partner?"

Gray's head jerked as he heard those words, his eyes widening in panic before realizing much too late that Juvia was referring to the fact that Natsu had been his guard partner. And even as he bravely tried to answer noncommittally, he knew he'd given himself away.

"Uhm, yeah."

"Oh," Juvia remained silent for a moment, her cheeks reddening slightly as she grasped what his reaction to her innocent question meant. But then she rallied, gazing at him intently.

"Juvia is sorry for her actions, she should not have made assumptions," she grabbed his hand, squeezing it gently before letting go and smiling at him, "Juvia is sure he will return to you."

"I wish I was," Gray muttered as he absently fidgeted with his necklace.

0-0

Natsu flew home with Atlas, who had shown up to retrieve him a few days earlier. They hadn't spoken since he'd left the cave Sting and the others had been staying in, and although he could tell Altas was working hard to remain quiet, he could also see that the effort wasn't easy for him.

They slowed down as soon as he could pick out Gray's scent, and Atlas finally spoke.

"I didn't tell Igneel what happened. I will leave it up to you whether you want to do that or not."

"Thank you, it's probably best he doesn't know."

Atlas grunted, although Natsu wasn't sure if he agreed with his decision, "How are you feeling these days, Kid?"

"About as expected, I figure if I'm near him, it might be enough to help."

They arrived at the cave, and Natsu spent a few days catching Igneel up on the goings-on of the island. Each day his curiosity and need to see Gray grew incrementally until he finally gave in.

He found a perch atop their mountain where he could sit and have a clear view of the village without being seen. Natsu was relieved to see the repairs had been finished, remembering with some guilt how much damage he'd caused during his fight with Acnologia.

Throughout the day he got peeks of Anna as well as Lyon and Erza and some of the other guards he recognized from his time there. But it wasn't until the third day that he got a glimpse of Gray. He was doing his patrol sweep, a route Natsu remembered well.

He'd been expecting to feel something when he saw him, but he hadn't anticipated the overwhelming need that came over him at seeing Gray so close.

Natsu watched him eagerly at first, noticing all the small changes the last few months had wrought. All he wanted was to hear Gray’s voice and know his touch. To share his bed and feel his love. Images he'd spent months trying not to think about played in his mind, each one stealing his breath and shattering his already damaged heart further.

And as the scent of what he wanted most but could never have again filled his nostrils, he imagined that this was what hell would be like. No blazing inferno, but having his heart shattered over and over again. He steeled himself for what would surely be several months of this torture, swearing to himself that once the required time had passed, he would make his way back to Drak Aast, never to return.

0-0

Gray glanced around his apartment in the dim light of the early dawn hours, trying to make sure he had everything he needed before he left. He was getting ready to go when he was startled by a noise behind him.

"Aren't you even going to eat anything?" Lyon complained, exiting his room with his travel bag slung on his back.

"Where are you going?" Gray asked, puzzled that Lyon hadn't mentioned leaving on a job.

"Where do you think, dumbass? With you." Lyon walked into their kitchen, opening their refrigerator in search of something to eat and throwing a piece of fruit at Gray. "Or did you think I was just going to let you leave on your own?"

"How did you —?"

"Know you were going to leave?" Lyon smirked, "Erza told me you asked for leave, it didn't take much for me to figure out what you were up to. Knowing you, there were only two possible choices. You're either going to go retrace your steps, or you're going to go off in search of Natsu. Or both?"

Gray stared at his brother, and while his first inclination was to tell him he wanted to go alone, the truth was he was somewhat scared of what he might find. Having Lyon around would be a welcome distraction, not to mention his brother had always been very observant. He could be a lot of help on this journey, but more importantly, it had been a long time since they had done anything just the two of them.

But it wasn't fair, Gray had no idea where this trip was going to take him. If something happened to him, no one would miss him all that much, but if something happened to Lyon, Erza would be devastated. She'd already had too many people leave her behind, it wasn't fair to her.

"I'm not taking no for an answer," Lyon insisted, arms crossed across his chest in stubborn defiance.

"Erza?"

"Already knows I'm leaving," Lyon remained in the same posture, but the way his eyes strayed away from his face let Gray know he'd had similar thoughts.

"I don't know what's going to happen," Gray cautioned, trying to give him one last chance at an out.

Lyon sighed, putting his arms back down by his sides, "Look, I'll admit the thought has occurred to me that we might not return, but I understand you have to do this. The truth is, if something like this had happened to me, I'd want to do the same. I'm your brother, let me help you."

"Alright, but don't say I didn't warn you."

Lyon grinned in triumph, moving forward to give him a quick hug before opening their door and stepping out into the chilly morning air, "Let' s go!"

Gray immediately followed, locking their apartment door behind them. They made their way to Gray's last confirmed location slowly, neither knowing what it was they were looking for but hoping they'd recognize it when they found it.

The first few days were filled with a lot of talks, and Gray had almost been enjoying himself, despite the lack of progress. It had been a long time since he'd gotten to spend time like this with his brother outside of a few hikes into the mountains, and he'd missed the closeness they'd shared before Lyon had begun dating Erza. Not that he minded, he felt they were right for each other.

They finally reached the town, and even after two days of asking questions of anyone who would listen, they had come away with zero answers. Gray had sort of expected that, though. After all, Erza had mentioned Lyon and Juvia had already investigated when he had gone missing.

So they began their search for Natsu and the other dragon slayers, heading towards the last location where they had heard there had been fighting. But after a week of finding nothing but destroyed scenery, Lyon had become very quiet, and Gray didn't know what to make of it. He was almost startled when Lyon finally spoke.

"When we return, I'm going to ask Erza to marry me." Lyon declared, his words filled with a strange determination that didn't quite vibe with their message.

"That's great!" Gray replied with a smile, and he meant it. He was glad things had worked out for his brother and his friend, and he refused to let his own perpetual misery mar that.

"Thanks," Lyon smiled briefly, walking alongside Gray with his hands stuffed into his pockets, once again seemingly deep in thought. He remained silent for a few more minutes before starting a line of conversation that Gray hadn't seen coming.

"It's been almost three years, Gray," Lyon began, stopping amidst a particularly charred area in the forest they were currently traveling in, "I don't think they're coming back."

Gray could only gape, his brother's words going straight through to his heart, for they were words he thought often but refused to believe.

"He's coming back, he's too stubborn not to. You said so yourself."

"I know what I said, but look around you," Lyon pointed at the remains of the once lush forest, "The things they were fighting were capable of all the destruction we've seen, they didn't stand a chance."

"You don't know that for a fact," Gray argued angrily, "All of them were more powerful than us, and their magic was meant to fight dragons."

"Then, where are they? If the war has ended, why aren't they back yet?" Lyon debated, his voice remaining collected even as Gray's began to rise. "Don't you think he would've already rushed back if he could?"

"Shut up."

"This is Natsu we're talking about here, he wouldn't keep you waiting. I think you need to accept the fact that he's never coming back."

"SHUT UP!"

"Gray —"

"If he were dead, I would know it," he felt that with every cell in his body. His bond had felt muted since he'd woken up in the field, but it was still there.

"How? That spiritual bond you talked about? It's a child's story, Gray, a pretty tale he spun when he romanced you. Things like that don't exist in real life."

"That's not true, I've felt it. I've heard Natsu in my mind since I was a child, and I've been able to reach him a few times too."

"Alright fine, let's assume for the sake of argument that you're right. When was the last time that happened?" Lyon peered at him, not needing to wait for a response when he saw the way Gray's shoulders slumped at his question.

"Look, I will be with you on this journey for as long as you need me to, but I want you to promise me that if we don't find anything, you'll give up on this," Lyon pleaded, "You need to move on, Gray. While you insist on living out this fantasy, your life is passing you by. We both know that's not what Natsu would have wanted for you."

"Stop talking about him as if he were dead!" Gray snapped, feeling angry and scared. He didn't want to listen to any of the things Lyon was saying.

"Gray —."

"Natsu is out there, and he will come back to me when he can."

He could see the pity in Lyon's eyes, but he didn't care. He refused to believe he'd never see his mate again. They continued to search for an additional week before returning home, and Lyon wisely never brought up the topic back up, but Gray could still feel the weight of his worried stares.

He ignored them, the trip had been a complete waste of his time, he hadn't retrieved any memories or found any sign of Natsu, but even so, Gray refused to give up hope. He would see him again.

0-0

Natsu woke up slowly, eyes still closed, enjoying the warmth of the sunlight and the late spring breeze as it blew in through the window and caressed his body. He whimpered, knowing this dream well. Gray would be lying beside him, their limbs tangled up in each other as they always did when they slept together.

Natsu would move his blessedly human body slowly to face his mate and just stare at the ice mage as he slept. A soft smile playing on his lips at the sight, and his heart would soar with the knowledge that they were now one. That they would spend the rest of their days fighting together and loving each other. Nothing would ever tear them apart.

But then the dream would inevitably change. Natsu's body would transform into his dragon self, causing Gray to pierce his heart with one of his ice swords, even as Natsu cried out that he was still the same. He knew the whole thing was ridiculous, Gray's swords couldn't hurt him, but that did nothing to lessen his anxiety.

Natsu waited for the dream to shift, but to his surprise, there were only the sound of a soft sigh as long fingers threaded through his hair in a way that he instantly recognized. What kind of cruel dream was this? He sniffed the air in disbelief.

How could this be? He recalled flying down to the field to reminisce on some of his earlier times with Gray. He must have fallen asleep, but when had Gray gotten here and why wasn't he freaking out? And wait, hair? What the hell was going on?

"You still can't control it when you're asleep, can you?" Gray teased him softly, his voice fond and full of craving. Natsu found himself wanting to cry in response. He'd missed Gray so much, the time they'd been apart had been agony for him both physically and mentally.

"Why didn't you come find me when you got back?" Gray continued, his fingers stopping their gentle petting and thwapping him roughly on the head. "I wouldn't have cared if you woke me up. Are you back for good?" Natsu heard the hope in Gray's voice and wished he could reassure him, but he had no idea what to say. He was in unchartered territory at the moment.

Natsu opened his eyes and was instantly accosted by a pair of deep blue eyes staring down at him, donning too many emotions for him to track. Even so, those emotions were assaulting him through their fractured bond, overwhelming him with all of Gray's worry and pain and, gods, so much love, and this time Natsu did cry. From relief, from anxiety and from a joy he hadn't felt in so long.

Maybe he was getting a second chance, perhaps it had just taken him much longer to turn back this time. If that was so, he promised himself he would never transform again, it wasn't worth it. He didn't want to move from this spot, from this moment, afraid that it would somehow break whatever this spell was that had turned him back into his human self. He looked around to see he was indeed at their field, he'd fallen asleep at the very edge of it beneath some trees that would have usually hidden his body but now afforded them some privacy.

"Hey, are you okay?" Gray fussed over him, checking him over for injuries and rediscovering scars all over Natsu's torso he didn't know he'd forgotten. Not finding any open wounds, he grabbed Natsu and enveloped him in an embrace that threatened to take Natsu's ability to breathe away, yet Natsu found he didn't care.

"I thought I'd never see you again," Gray whispered into his ear, "Lyon told me to give up hope, that if you hadn't come back yet the worst must have happened, but I knew--" Gray swallowed around the lump that was threatening to drown them both in his tears. "I knew that if you'd died, I would know."

"I told you I'd be back," Natsu managed shakily as he attempted a smile. He touched Gray's face reverently and used his thumb to gently wipe away the tears. Now that Gray was in front of him, he wasn't about to waste any time. He wanted to hoard every second he was allowed, still not daring to believe this could be permanent.

"You did," Gray agreed readily enough, releasing Natsu from his embrace before growling, "But nearly three years is a fucking long time to go without any word."

Natsu felt guilt flood him as he looked at his mate and rushed to mask it, not wanting Gray to realize anything was amiss. He still felt terrible for removing Gray's memories of their six months together, but he knew he'd done the right thing.

The knowledge that they'd been so happy before it had all been wrested away from them in such a cruel manner killed Natsu a little more each day. He didn't want that for Gray. No, it was best Gray didn't remember, he'd already suffered enough. Natsu was only thankful he'd had enough magic left to heal the worst of Gray's injuries after Acnologia's attack.

"We should go back to the village, I'm sure everyone would love to see you," Gray said, but Natsu could tell it wasn't what he really wanted, and he had no desire to see anyone else at the moment either, just Gray.

"Not yet, it's been so long, I don't want to see anyone else, I just want to be with you." He looked at Gray, eyes pleading with him.

Gray smiled at him and leaned forward to capture Natsu's lips with his own, and Natsu was embarrassed by the needy moan he heard himself utter as he returned the kiss with a desperation born of separation, but Gray only wrapped his arms around him tightly.

Natsu had yearned for this, to believe his mate still loved and wanted him. He could feel their bond healing, reforging, and that worried him a bit, but it was so hard to think when his body's desires were raging out of control. The almost constant pain he'd experienced since leaving Talos had dissipated the moment Gray kissed him.

He wanted, no, he needed to claim his mate again, and the raw urgency of that thought scared him. But Gray's hands were soon straying from the embrace, beginning to explore Natsu's body as he continued to kiss him. His touches were tentative as his hands touched every part of Natsu they could reach in this position, reminding Natsu of the first time they had made love, both of them fumbling in their desperation to join together after so much time spent apart.

Natsu's heart ached at the memory as his body responded to the familiar touches. Gray's kiss grew more demanding, and Natsu didn't want to stop, his hands already returning the touches with an urgency he couldn't deny.

"Natsu," Gray's voice dripped with desire, a heat so intense that it melted through all of Natsu's quickly dwindling resolve and caused him to moan in anticipation, "If you want me to stop, please tell me now."

Natsu shook his head, and that was enough for Gray to begin undressing him, his mouth soon following his fingers. Natsu's back arched as he felt cold lips touch his skin, the perfect complement to his heat. He went to return the favor, only to realize Gray had already lost his shirt at some point. Was Gray even wearing it when Natsu first saw him? Natsu couldn't remember, but he also didn't care as it allowed him immediate access to the broad chest he was already covering with kisses. It had been so very long since he'd been able to touch his mate in any way.

"I love you," Natsu blurted, having only been able to recite the words in his head for too long.

Gray stopped for a second and peered at him in wonder, "You've never said that to me before."

"I never got the chance to," Natsu lied, memories of all the times he'd told Gray that very thing in those six months flitting through his mind. He'd said it often, sometimes in fondness, sometimes in ecstasy and sometimes just to remind himself from within his frustration or anger, but every time it was told with the same honesty that his feelings for Gray demanded.

Gray remained still, hands no longer roaming as he seemingly absorbed Natsu's words, interiorizing them. He flashed Natsu a smile that would forever become engraved in his heart, it was beatific and full of a tenderness that Natsu knew Gray never showed anyone else.

"I love you too," Gray's words nourished Natsu's soul, healing it from all the pain he'd experienced since Acnologia had shown up on their doorstep.

"I haven't said that to anyone since my parents died," Gray sighed at the realization that he'd never even uttered those words to Ur, although he thought that she'd known all the same.

Gray kissed Natsu again, and although this kiss was tender and full of promises, it had lost none of the earlier passion. There was no going back at this point, they were too caught up in their emotions and desires to rein themselves in. They spent the next few hours exploring each other's bodies slowly and repeatedly, neither bothering to muffle their cries of ecstasy. Though at first the noises of the forest stopped at their intrusion, they soon became complicit, masking them in their chatter. That noise, in turn, lulled them into a deep sleep as both their bodies and souls had now become sated. The last thing Natsu saw before his eyes closed was the radiant glow of Gray's necklace, and he smiled, knowing it meant their bond was whole once again.

O-o

Gray awoke to find Natsu watching him, and although he couldn't quite figure out his expression, it still brought a smile to his face. He'd missed waking up with Natsu, it was something that had been snatched from him just as he'd begun to get used to it.

"See something you like?" Gray grinned at the flustered expression on his lover's face at being caught staring, thrilled he could still affect Natsu that way even after all this time. He was a bit surprised that he felt so comfortable being naked around the other, but considering what they'd just shared, perhaps it wasn't so surprising after all.

"Always," Natsu replied, his gaze adoring as he leaned towards Gray and kissed his forehead gently before moving to kiss his lips. "Good afternoon, or whatever time it is." Natsu scratched his head as he looked up at the position of the sun in the sky, trying to figure out how long they had slept for. It looked like the sun was beginning to set.

Gray took advantage of Natsu's distraction to look at his body, really look at it. It was covered in faint scars, some that looked like the wounds had been quite severe. He started to shake at their enormity, he could've lost him to any one of those wounds. Just what had Natsu been through while they were apart? Natsu noticed his gaze and tried to cover the worst of them with his arms.

"Don't," Gray scolded, "I need to see them."

"They're nothing," Natsu shrugged, but he stopped trying to hide them and remained uncomfortably still as Gray traced the scars with his fingers.

"Dragons did this?" Gray growled angrily, every scar burned into his memory, adding fuel to his hatred.

"No, most of these were done by people," Natsu said, and it was true, Acnologia had once been a human before he had devolved into whatever he was now. "Most of the dragons are gone from this world."

"People did this? I find that hard to believe," Gray retorted, unwilling to let go of his earlier assumption.

"Why? People have always killed each other. Why would war be any different?"

Gray knew there was truth to Natsu's statement, so he changed the topic, not wanting to argue so soon after joining together. "Are the others back too? They are okay, aren't they?"

"They're alive," Natsu responded, and this was true enough, " I don't think any of us can really be expected to be okay, though,"

Gray studied him, quickly recognizing a lot was hiding in that statement but not precisely grasping how to pursue it without ruining the moment further. He felt like he needed to know, he'd worked and played with the dragon slayers since his arrival in Talos. He considered them all friends, and he'd worried about them too, but maybe now was not the time to push the subject, so he began a hasty retreat.

"Do, do they look like you?" Gray asked worriedly, fingers once again tracing Natsu's scars.

Natsu shook his head. He didn't want to talk about this, about them or the war or any of his other failures. The other dragon slayers were bruised, and they were definitely not the same, but they had survived, and maybe they would choose to return someday, but even if they did, he knew things would be different. Still, he felt he had to say something.

"They've chosen to stay with their dragons for the moment, I don't know when they'll be back."

Gray hastily switched subjects, this Natsu was different than he remembered, almost fragile. He supposed that was to be expected. Gray had no idea what his mate had been through in the last three years, but he was starting to realize they'd be sorting it out for years to come. The thought was daunting, but he didn't care because that meant that Natsu was home to stay. They could finally begin to build the life they'd wanted, together.

"Are, are your dragons, okay?"

"They're alive," Natsu responded, but Gray could tell that once again, a lot was being left unsaid.

He was getting frustrated by all of Natsu's non-committal responses. Gray was trying to understand what had happened, what things Natsu had been through so that he could start the healing process, and he pushed more than he should have, "What was it like?"

"I don't really want to talk about this right now," Natsu snapped, his voice loud and angry, startling Gray. He immediately looked chagrined, and he softened his tone, "I don't want to waste whatever time we have rehashing all of that."

"Whatever time we have?" Gray looked confused and disappointed, " What do you mean by that, do you have to go back?

Natsu looked away, not knowing what to say, he had no idea how long he had, but he could already sense the change coming. Had felt it the moment he'd woken up, and no amount of trying to fight it off had made any difference. He wouldn't be able to stay in this form for much longer, and he was trying to hide his despair at the fact that he would soon have to say goodbye to the man he loved. Again.

If only they hadn't wasted so much time sleeping.

"Are you hungry? Cause I'm starving," Natsu got dressed and tossed Gray's clothes at him, trying to conceal the way his hands were shaking, "How about we go find a place to clean up and hunt down some food?"

"Natsu," Gray grabbed his clothes and put them on. "NATSU!" he repeated louder when Natsu seemed to be ignoring him. He grabbed Natsu by the hands and forced the fire mage to look at him. "What aren't you telling me?"

He'd expected a fight, a denial, anything but the broken look on Natsu's face, and that's when he felt it, despair so deep Gray lost his balance for a second. It was enough for Natsu to escape his grip.

"Natsu, what's wrong?"

"I'm so sorry," Natsu said as his fingers instinctively moved towards his neck, searching for the scarf he hadn't worn for years now.

It was no use, his transformation was beginning. Natsu could feel the scales start to cover his body. He was out of time. He hoped Gray could forgive him for leaving him without any answers. He tried to contain his tears, not wanting that to be the last thing Gray saw of him. "I'll always love you," he said one last time before running off into the wooded area that led away from the mountains.

"NATSU! Natsu, come back," Natsu heard Gray's yells below him as he managed to take to the skies unseen, but try as he might he couldn't ignore the deep, unmistakable hurt in his mate's voice. He'd done it again, only this time he'd managed to make things even worse.

Dammit!

Natsu flew towards his cave, hoping Atlas would know why he'd changed and if it was likely to happen again. A/N: Sorry I'm a little late with this one, I've had a lot of family obligations with the holidays. This will be the last chapter update until mid-January. I am putting this story on hiatus briefly as I need to fulfill other obligations for holiday exchanges and events. The next chapter is probably one of the most important to the story and I don't want to half-ass it because I was trying to spread myself too thin. I might switch to weekly updates for a bit once I return to try to get back on schedule. That said I hope you enjoy this one! A special thanks to @oryu404 for their help when I was stuck! Happy Holidays to everyone, however you celebrate it, and thank you so much for helping make this year a great one for me. I love you all!

#fairy tail #gratsu #ftlgbtales #update #fairy tail big bang 2018

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boogiewrites · 5 years ago

Text

Choking On Sapphires 81

Characters: Alfie Solomons x Genevieve (OFC)

Title & Song: Mardy Bum

Summary: Alfie is dealing with Gen's condition in his own way, by being an overbearing arse. Being blind to his behavior and the problems it's causing for everyone, the women of the house decide to do something to make him improve his coping techniques. Song is Mardy Bum by The Arctic Monkeys.

Warnings/Tags: Language. References to assault and violence. PTSD. Suffering/Physical Pain. Fluff. Mad Alfie. Grumpy Alfie. Tommy Shelby. Soft Gen. Aggie getting angry. (Like a teddy bear with a knife she is.)

Click on my icon then go to my Mobile Masterlist in my bio for my other works and chapters. (Had to do this since Tumblr killed links, sorry.) Please like, comment and reblog if you enjoyed it! It helps out us writers A LOT!

Aggie stands in the doorway and sees Alfie nodding off again while sitting up in bed. He had done this constantly the past few days, his body and mind begging for sleep, but his heart not allowing it. He wouldn’t let Genevieve out of his sight. He wouldn’t sleep, wouldn’t eat or do anything but hold watch over her like a dragon guarding his treasure. He was scaly and red just like the comparison, his words equal to fire as his mood was poorly to understate its severity.

He kept her company through her fits in her sleep, the same cycles of active dreams, both good and bad and the latter only increasing in frequency. Every time she would become restful, he became fearful. He worried her lack of upset was a sign she was slipping away again and he’d move to hold her if he wasn’t already, waking her and causing her pain. But despite the unhealthy paranoia he was revealing in this situation, every time Gen would be awake for a few moments, she would meet his gaze and gently touch his face before resting her head back against him with a smothered sigh. Never had so little of an acknowledgment given him so much feeling.

Aggie could see the signs of him breaking, knowing he would only get worse if he kept up this grueling schedule. It wasn’t only him she was worried about. Once Gen was well enough to get up and move around, and she was hoping that today could be the day for it, she knew he wouldn’t be in any state to help her much. The lack of rest had taken its toll on his body, looking and moving like a much older man. He needed to be strong for her in all aspects. Two people falling apart simultaneously would do no good to anyone. Especially with how Gen had responded to similar trauma in the past. Aggie was worried she’d act out. Alfie would have to serve as a hand of the law and hold fast rules of the house as a man if she did. If he was weak and desperate it would only lead to trouble.

With the appearance of Tommy, Arthur, and the children in tow that morning Aggie saw her chance to get Alfie back into working order.

“Morning Agatha.” Tommy’s cool voice coasted out with a nod of his head. Claire was already distracting the children with the maids and Arthur as they led them to the nursery.

“Forgive me for not exchanging pleasantries Mr. Shelby but as you can imagine things have been terribly tense around here as of late.” Aggie's tense face tells him all he needs to know.

“I do not have to imagine it Agatha, I’ve been through it myself.” He gives her an empathetic hand to her hunched shoulder.

“Might I ask you for a favor sir? One that might make Mr. Solomons angry but I’m at the end of my rope with him truth be told.” she lets out an exhalation, a bit of pleading in her eyes.

“You would not be the first and you will not be the last.” He muses. “What do you need?”

“Mr. Solomons is being most difficult. He won’t sleep or eat or leave. We’re more than capable of caring for Genevieve here but he refuses to let anyone near her, save Claire and me. Even to us, he won’t meet our eyes. Just watches over her like some gargoyle.” She answers with clear exasperation. “I was wondering if you thought you could talk him into letting us handle her and get her out and have him get some much-needed rest? He needs to be able to function as he had been. This seclusion is doing neither of them any good. I am relieved that you showed up as I was going to try to get her to the garden today.”

“I will make no promises Agatha but I will try. He’s a most stubborn man.”

“Thank you Mr. Shelby.” She responds with a bow. “Now I’m going to go check on the children.” She dismisses herself.

As Tommy makes his way down the hall toward Gen's room, he hopes she will be in good enough shape to argue with Alfie on the point of leaving her. He knew deep down that he also wouldn’t be leaving if he were in his position. He’d be drunk off his arse and just as mad as Alfie. But he didn’t have to know that.

He opens the door slowly, finding Alfie glaring directly into his eyes from across the large, gilded room. Tommy keeps his characteristic cool and walks towards him, not breaking his attempts at defended the sleeping woman next to him. Tommy blinks once, a polite bowing out and looks to Genevieve. She did look better. Under two weeks past since the incident and her color was coming back slightly in her cheeks, the bruises not as deep but now a vast array of colors and shapes all over her body.

“She looks better.” Tommy states with a flat delivery.

Alfie says nothing, only turns to look at her himself. Did she look better? All he saw was the hand shaped bruises on her body, the marsh and sea colors growing across her skin as they healed. But only superficially. It was hard to call her better when he’s spent the last few hours holding her hands to the bed to keep her from hurting herself.

“But you look like shit, Solomons.” He says with no smirk, eyebrow set in a nonaggressive stance.

“Oi you can fuckin’... piss off mate.” His low and ragged voice growls as he points a red, splotchy hand to the door.

“Might I suggest something? From a man that’s been through this... from both sides?” He tries a gentler approach, seeing the anger in his business partners eyes that he knew was only hurt disguised.

“Fuck no. Get out with ya so called fuckin' help. I’ve got her, yeah? Don’t need your fuckin advice. Ya couldn’t keep your wife alive why would I wanna listen to you?” He spits venom and Tommy sees now what Agatha was talking about. If he was in his right mind he wouldn’t have said that, but it didn’t help the upset it made bloom in Tommy’s chest.

“Look Alfie. You acting out isn’t going to help anyone. Certainly not you yeah? And not her.” He points to Genevieve laying with a flinching face in her sleep. “You think you’re taking care of her but you’re not. You’ll break soon. Mark my words. If you keep this up. Men, those like us weren’t meant to live this way. We can’t become obsessed with the things we swear we’ll protect. There has to be a line of self-preservation.”

“‘At’s fuckin rich comin' from you, Tommy.” He scoffs.

“When she needs you, truly. Her mind and body feeling not her own, you will need to know yourself with no room for question to help her. I’ve been where she is... where she’s goin’. It’s going to be a different sort of difficult now. And you need to be on your fucking toes for it. She was a hellcat before and it will only be worse with this medicine and her head.” He keeps his words stern but even. Wanting to show his seriousness but not have Alfie pull a gun he was sure was waiting just out of sight.

“I am bloody here. Ya got eyes innit ya?”

“Agatha has told me the truth whether you will or not.” He quirks an eyebrow at the man with a brow so low and hard his eyes were almost out of sight.

“None of them know anyfing. They let this happen, why the fuck would I trust them now?”

“No one LET it happen Alfie. It just happened. You were the one who pointed out the hypocrisy to me for us to be upset over things we deserve, things that happen to men like us. This is one of those things.”

Alfie is quiet and is eerily still, staring into Tommy.

“I believe you should let her out of your sight and get some air today. I’m here, Arthur and the children. Do her a world of good to see them.”

“Why does she have to be out of my sight?”

“Because you need to fucking sleep, Alfie. You look like hell and at least one of you need to have it together. And you’re fuckin’ fallin’ apart. I say that as a friend, as someone who cares about Genny. I don’t want her being looked after by a mad man who can’t even take care of himself. You need to get your life back in order Alfie. Falling apart helps no one. I’ve fuckin' done it. Didn’t help a fucking thing.” he says with an aggravated shake of his head.

Alfie huffs and then lets out a long sigh.

“I know she’s got her little potions and that, yeah? Take one. It’ll give you a few hours. She’ll be with us. She won’t be out of anyone’s sight.”

“Why are you tryin' to put me under? How do I know you aren’t trying something ya bloody gypsies.” He mutters with narrowed eyes, showing his growing paranoia.

“Because I went after her that day too. Because I was here to support your fucking proposal. Because I helped your men burn down half the bloody city.” He replies with an expression now showing his thinning patience.

“You weren’t there. I dinnit see you do nuffin'.” He retorts purely to only be difficult.

“Take it or fucking not Alfie, I don’t care. You’re being a right pain in the arse to everyone around you and will have everyone hating you again soon if you don’t recover. So get some fucking sleep yeah?” Tommy tells with a tight jaw and clear exasperation.

“I won’t be able to fuckin' sleep without it.” He grumbles and admits. Alfie blinks slowly, still glaring. “But you betta fuckin' swear it. If ANYFING happens to her you wake me!” he says angrily. Deep down, in his not sleep deprived functioning of his brain he knew Tommy was right. He didn’t have to admit it aloud though.

Gen stirs at the raising of his voice. “Mmmph.” she lets out, brow furrowing.

“Go on and get the old birds then.” Alfie pushes towards the door to send Tommy on his way. “Mornin’, love.” he says with a tone so distinctly opposite of his words with Tommy that the other man knew at least it was love that was causing him to act so out of character.

------

He had helped her get up and bathe, her sleepy face showing an acute lack of reaction to her environment that left him uneasy. But he knew the medicine was still in her system, her not having grown a resistance to the dose. He sends her off with her freshly washed hair and in a new gown before doing as he did her, and try to take care of himself. He takes a short bath, a quick scrub in all the ripe places before pulling on a loose shirt and trousers to lie down in, just in case he was needed he’d already be dressed.

Alfie begrudgingly takes the tonic. Not even a full dose, just enough to let his mind shut up long enough for him to get to sleep. Tommy had only convinced him because, despite his onerous behavior, he knew he was right. Alfie wasn’t above taking advice when it came from someone who knew what they were talking about. He knew Tommy most certainly knew the situation he and Genevieve found themselves in. As he lay alone in the dim light and quiet hush of the room, behind the closed ornate door to the bedroom, he finally allowed himself to exhale. With a face that still said, piss off despite being alone, his deep crows feet, the rolling hills of his forehead and brow settle as he shuts his eyes. He should’ve expected the dreams to find him as they did. All bad, all bloody and bitter. There are the fields of bodies, the trenches in sight as the explosions and gunfire whip by him as he dives among the duckboards for cover. The muddy mazes and the makeshift wooden slats turn into a hallway as he scrambles. The screams and explosions change to the sounds Genevieve made the day they rescued her and he searches desperately for her in the dark. He hears her and cannot find her, he screams for her and fights against the nothingness that surrounds him. Suddenly the cries stop, he’s in his home int he city, charging up the newly varnished stairs to his room to find their mutual friends standing over an empty bed.

“I’m sorry.” They all murmur and look at him with pity.

He tastes blood in his mouth, still covered in the filth of the trenches from earlier, hands on the bed and hitting it as if it would make something happen.

“She fought so hard.” Aggie says, sobbing into Claire’s shoulder.

“It was so sudden.” Claire whispers, shaking her head.

“If only you’d been there.” Tommy says, glaring into him.

“We’ll never forgive you for this.” Arthur growls.

“I told you to treat her better.” Polly sneers.

Alfie pants and growls, looking at them with wild eyes and sweat soaked skin.

“She’s gone Alfie. She’s dead. Because of you. It’s all your fault. You miserable old cunt.” Claire spits at him. “You were supposed to protect her.”

“Why didn’t you save me Alfie?” he hears her voice from behind him as he pivots and stares, sprawled on the bed as she’s in the doorway. One of her indulgent long sheer gowns in white, flowing and light around her body, lit up like the sun. Her face is solemn and hurt, her voice so timid it burns his chest to hear it.

“I did. I tried, love. Fuck Genevieve, I tried. I’m sorry.” he rushes out as he scrambles to her and his hands go through her.

“I’m gone, Alfie.” she shakes her head.

“No, no, you can’t be.” his hands reach out to nothing as she starts to fade.

The accusations and reminders of Gen’s demise are all shouted at him as he keeps desperately grabbing and calling out for her. His body pushed so hard against the hurt that he wakes himself, half in and out of sleep, still heavy underneath the effects of the tonic. He finds himself thrashing and yelling in her bed, through instinct he looks for her near him, and when she is not there his half woke mind panics.

“No.” he chokes out, her absence telling him just like earlier that she was certainly dead. -------

The edges of her world were fuzzy. The pain in her body could be felt, but it was as if it were far away. She moves slowly, Arthur's arms on her gently as they make their way to a stone bench in the garden. He’s personally thrilled with her progress, recalling the state Tommy was in and how couldn’t even move in the beginning. Granted, she hadn’t had so many obvious injuries, but Polly had explained to him that the injuries inside someone can be far greater than the ones on the outside when it comes to the mind. That he knew what it was like to have your mind out to get you, and he had always looked at those suffering with pity and empathy ever since. His eyes for Gen were no different in the afternoon sun. He says sweet praise as she moves with a limp, her ankle on the verge of healing now.

“There she is now.” he declares with outstretched hands her hands rest over her thin white robe on her thighs as she sits up on her own. She was a bit wobbly, granted, but she was managing. Aggie stood behind her and kept watch that she would stay upright. Once they saw she was stable enough, Tommy brings out Charlie by the hand as he oh’s and ah’s at the seemingly giant pieces of the garden.

“There’s Auntie Genny now, eh?” Tommy says with a soft tone, holding the boy back from charging at her as he normally would. With a happy squeal, Gen raises her head towards the boy's noises and as he approaches she slowly recognizes her favorite small human. Arthur beams as a smile slowly comes across her face, albeit a sleepy one, but it was a good sign to be getting anything out of her at this point. After a brief kiss of cheeks, Tommy suggests Charlie pick his Auntie some flowers, eager to please and get his hands on the overwhelming amount of color surrounding him he happily bounds away. Gen watches him shrink and disappear behind a hedge, her smile faltering as she recalls her dream, a wrinkle of her nose and a mood swing takes her as she rests on her hand with a pained sigh, her eyes once again vacant.

“What is it Genny?” Arthur gruffs out, taking her hand and gently rubbing her back, stimulating her enough to meet his eyes.

“She can’t talk yet, dear.” Aggie says, pulling the pen and paper out of her apron pocket. “Here you go darling, would you like to try to talk to us a bit?” she asks with kind eyes, putting the pen in her hand for her. Her grip is shaky at first, but it does respond and Arthur doesn’t hide his relief that she’s able to do such a thing. At least her brain was sending out the orders, even if her body was slow to follow them.

“The children.” she writes, looking into the distance.

“They were excited to see you, eh?” Arthur happily chirps in his deep comforting voice. “Little Ruby is down for a nap, long drive ‘n that. Linda has Billy up at the farm, he wasn’t feelin’ up to it poor lad.” he explains.

Gen shakes her head, her eyes not meeting his.

“Oh don’t feel bad about it, love, he’s just got a bit of stomach upset. Probably got into the sweets behind our back again!” he says happily with a laugh.

Gen slowly reaches out and puts a weak grip on Aggie’s forearm, the other hand lifting the paper and pushing it towards her again.

“She’s been asking about children after waking up.” Aggie says quietly, her hand tender on Gen’s face as she sees an unexplained pain behind her unfocused eyes.

“What’s she on about?” Arthur faces Aggie, but keeps his eyes on the disheartened Gen.

“We don’t know.” Aggie let’s out a sigh.

“Look here’s little Charlie. Here’s the boy now.” Arthur says trying to distract her.

Charlie had been blessed with his mother’s patience, as he surely hadn’t gotten it from his father. They sit in the garden, Charlie babbling to a reluctantly willing participant in Gen about flowers. She takes them one by one into her hands, forming a bouquet slowly, Arthur watching her receive and follow commands from the enthusiastic boy and rubbing her back as she was able to grip and respond with nods as the child spoke.

“She’s doing better.” Claire says, standing at the foot of the stairs with Aggie, watching the picturesque scene go down, Gen with a peaceful look on her face, Charlie happily babbling and tottering around in the high grass and jumping after butterflies.

“She’s asking about children again.” Aggie frowns. “But other than that yes.”

“The doctor told us there would be confusion and even hallucinations. For what she’s been through the subject doesn’t surprise me. Tommy mentioned it to me in confidence as well. Says he saw all sorts of things.”

“Well, that’s just wonderful.” Aggie says with heavy sarcasm that she doesn’t usually explore. “How are we to know if she’s doing any better in her mind if she’s bloody hallucinating.” she groans.

“It’s still too soon to tell. Once she’s off the medicine we’ll be able to know for sure.”

“But when will that be? Maybe never!” Aggie huffs.

“Don’t let Alfie’s poor mood rub off on you Ags.” Claire chuckles and pats her back.

“My apologies dear this whole situation is just a bit... overwhelming.” she admits her hands wringing together with worry despite the clear progress being made in front of her.

“I know. But we can do this.” Claire nods confidently. “Let’s try to enjoy it moment by moment shall we? Look at her, not pained in appearance or sound, following commands, responding, sitting like a little flower in her lovely white robes among her favorite things.” Claire’s hand sweeps out. “Our friends are here, she’s here, Alfie has finally shut the fuck up and went to sleep.” she laughs and Aggie grins.

“Thank Christ for that.” she rolls her eyes. “Bloody menace that man is. I thought he’d be the one to be the most helpful but I feel as if we’re babysitting him as well.”

“I believe he’s unaccustomed to such emotions. Despite his insistence that this is something that happens to people like them, I believe he’s racked with guilt. With rest, I believe he’ll get better. He loves her. Let’s try to remember that. It’s out of love and even if he is a clever one, he’s still just a man.” Claire says with a sigh.

“Not to us. He’ll be her husband, father of her children, man of the house. His name will be on everything. I just want him to be strong enough for her is all.” She rubs the bridge of her nose. “I pray he is but-“

Just then a roar erupts from inside the house. The unmistakable boom of Alfie echoing off the halls and out of the wall of open windows and patio doors to everyone in the garden.

“Fucks sake.” Claire groans, already having to eat her words.

“MR. SOLOMONS!” The girls inside call out over and over. “SHE’S ONLY IN THE GARDEN SIR!”

“WHAT DID YOU DO WITH HER? WHERE DID YOU TAKE MY GENNY?!” his voice shouts with malice spat at the innocent and fearful faces of the maids.

“SHE'S NOT DEAD SHES IN THE GARDEN!” One squeals, being shoved out of the way as he barges through every door in the house.

“Fucking hell.” Claire moans, moving fast up the stairs. “What the fuck is going on?” Claire demands from a scurrying maid.

“I don’t know!” She says with watery eyes from what were surely hurtful words from Alfie. “He took the lady’s tonic and laid down, then he started screaming and fighting in his sleep when he woke up and kept doing it! I don’t know! It’s like he’s on drugs!” One answers with shaking hands.

“The vial.” Aggie replies and hitches up her skirt to chase after the sounds in Genevieve’s wing of the house. “The man only drinks ceremonial wine and he’s gone and taken belladonna.”

With understanding clear on her face Claire laments and posts up on the back patio, ready for him to come her way. He’s either taken too much or doesn’t know he’s awake she assumes. Of course, he’d freak out when he woke and she wasn’t there.

“Alfie! She’s in the garden. GARDEN, ALFIE! GEN IS IN THE GARDEN!” Aggie shouts as he turns to see her in the doorway of Gen’s studio.

“SHE’S DEAD, WHAT DID YOU FUCKERS DO WITH HER BODY?!” he charges towards her.

She moves out of the way wisely. “GARDEN!” Aggie says and shoves him down the hall. “I see why he doesn’t bloody drink now.” she murmurs to herself, chasing after the stumbling lion as he slides down the hallway in his socks.

“C’MERE ALFIE!” Claire shouts, getting his attention, seeing in his face that he wasn’t all there. She herds him down the hall to the back patio where he sees her. Same as in his dream. All white and fluffy and soft, a face of confusion as their eyes lock across the path.

“Genny.” a whine escapes him as Arthur moves to protect her, he didn’t know what was going on, just that Alfie was acting like a rabid animal.

“Ah-?” she whispers, slowly moving towards him, holding her robe up and her face full of concern, the most alert anyone had seen her all day.

“Gen...Gen..” he says, powering down, his feet hitting heavy against the light stone landing, the vison of her, what he thought was a ghost making his head spin. The race of his blood, the haze his mind was in, the lack of sleep and the culmination of stress, thinking his love dead all hit him as he takes one more step and collapses against the ground like a tranquilized beast. Everyone stops and stares.

Claire is the first to get over the shock and rush his way, motioning her arm to Aggie as she comes through the doors. “He’s passed out the absolute ninny.” she rolls her eyes.

“What the fuck is this?” Tommy says rounding the corner and Arthur is still by the hobbling Gen’s side.

“Bad reaction to the sleep tonic I imagine.” Claire sighs, rolling him and propping him up, one of the male staff members coming to help her hoist him up.

“I’d say.” the maid's murmurs amongst themselves.

“Get her back into bed with him. I’ll not have this circus erupting again.” Claire orders.

“I only wanted him to get some rest.” Aggie pouts.

“You didn’t know he’d react this way, Agatha. It’s fine. As this beast likes to say, these things happen.” Claire grunts as she helps carry him back to their bed. “If he can’t handle a little of bubbies potion I see why he doesn’t drink now.” She snarks.

-----

Genevieve sits up in bed of her own accord for the first time since coming home. She sits with timid body language, hands in her lap as she keeps her eyes on the snoring man next to her.

“Perhaps opium would’ve been a better choice.” Tommy smirks as he stands with his hands in his pockets, Claire and Aggie rolling their eyes his way.

“At least he wouldn’t have broken the vase if he was on opium.” Aggie protests.

Claire grins at Aggie who was entirely over Alfie’s wild antics the past few days. “Best he stays away from anything now. Except her I suppose.” Claire pats Genevieve’s leg covered by her plush duvet as she ignores the conversation around her and watches the nuance of Alfie’s lip blubbing in his sleep. She reaches out, having grown impatient to touch him even though they had all been keeping watch only a matter of minutes. Everyone watches her with bated breath as her hand reached out, body turned just slightly which was a feat in itself, as she touched his face.

“Ah.” she whispers, leaning closer to him, fingers carding through his now fluffy and unkempt hair, long pieces across his forehead that reminded her of the feelings he used to bring out in her with his moments of unintentional boyish charm.

His strong sloped nose twitches, hearing his back crack and pop as he arches it and grunts. “Pet?” he murmurs, hand reaching up to touch hers, wondering if everything had been a bad dream for a blissful moment in time before opening his eyes. But when he accepts that he is in indeed in the less than perfect reality when Gen’s watercolor splotched soft face comes into focus. Neck still wearing a necklace of bruises, braces on fingers that he now felt under his hand as he gently kisses her palm and sighs. “What are you doin’ up, love? What ya need?” he begins before slowly sitting up himself.

Her face smiles and he gives her a sleepy one back, finding brief solace in her happiness to look at him still despite being a man, and men had done those terrible things to her. Once he sits up his eyes move away from her, and his eyes go wide, chin pushed into his neck as his face moves into a sharp scowl. “What in the fuckin' hell is this?” he asks looking at the people surrounding the bed. “Some fuckin' rest I’ll be gettin' with the lot of you fuckin hoverin’ like fuckin’ fly’s.” he complains loudly, lips pursed as he meets their eyes.

“He doesn’t remember.” Claire smirks.

“Remember what?” he barks.

Gen lets out a small huff of a laugh that takes all his attention.

“Was that a laugh? Ya havin’ a laugh are ya?” a falsely threatening brow but a smile on his face for the happy sound from her makes him put his arm around her and let her lie against him. “What’s your old man done so I can do it again if it makes you laugh, love.” he chuckles into her hair as she resumes her kitten-like behavior and nuzzles into his side.

“You had a bad reaction to the sleep tonic you took,” Claire explains. “You didn’t know what was a dream and what was reality and you stormed through the house shouting about her being dead and then passed out when you saw her in the garden.” The superior feeling Claire had to finally have one over on Alfie was clear in her taunting face.

“I fuckin’ wot? No I dinnit.” he denies, shaking his head, voice gruff and defensive.

“We all saw it.” Tommy adds.

“Well it’s your fault innit!” he says with a broad swipe of his big paw of a hand towards the smug looking man.

“How was I to know you couldn’t hold your drugs?” he gives a subtle grin.

“I don’t do that shite for a reason, yeah? It’s fuckin’ awful that stuff.”

“Well don't take belladonna again.” Aggie scolds with a shake of her head. “You scared the wits out of the maids.”

“Eh.” he shrugs. “Best they get a backbone yeah?” his tone was still defensive and everyone could see it on his face. He was a bit embarrassed. Gen puts her hand on his stomach and rubs the softness that lies beneath the linen of his shirt as she listened to his voice, that boom, and power that made her shut her eyes and know things were okay.

“You best get a backbone.” Aggie retorts, crossing her arms.

“Excuse you?” Alfie laughs.

“I’m serious! You’ve scared Genevieve, screaming and then passing out and calling her name. Then the maids, and us with your loud arse stumbling around the house like a bloody bull.” her voice has bite and Alfie’s tilted head shows his surprise.

“Agatha, love, I didn’t know you were so bitter.”

“Not bitter just tired, Alfie.” she murmurs. “I don’t want to have to worry about you. You’ve been a fucking mess since she’s been home and I don’t want you acting like a boy. She needs a man. We all need a strong man to be there for her. And you’ve been nothing but another burden in your behavior. Acting like everyone is out to get you in this house. Acting like you’re the only one that cares about her or can care for her. You aren’t the only one affected by this and it’s time you realized that.”

Alfie blinks slowly, Claire wearing a proud look on her face. “Language Aggie.” he chuckles.

“Well I’m very fucking serious!” she says with straight posture and furrowed brow.

“Thank you for sharing your feelings then Agatha.” Alfie gives her a nod, trying not to grin at the entirely nonthreatening angry face the older woman was wearing.

“I also agree with that. You can’t stay here holed up as you have been. There’s proof it’s making you mad now.” Claire snarks.

“What do you think, love?” he softly asks Gen, a scapegoat for his behavior he thinks. But she’s already asleep on his chest. “Oh fuckin’ ‘ell look at her.” he sighs, fingers stroking her hair softly. “How can I want to leave this?” he mutters before kissing her hair.

“You don’t have to want to. You have to. You have a business. People are going to talk if you just fuck off to stay at home. They’ll think you’re weak, Alfie.” Tommy says.

He knew he wasn’t wrong. “Fuckin’ up me arse the lot of ya.” he grumbles.

“We’re going to be if you don’t start getting out of this bed and work on being yourself again. She needs you to be you so she can remember how to be herself.” Claire says, leaning forward and speaking intensely with eye contact to Alfie’s still hesitant eyes. “Your fucking legs are going to stop working if you stay in here with her much longer like this.” she says with more humor, pinching his shin.

Alfie sighs, kissing Gen's forehead. “I’m not doin’ it because ya tellin’ me to. Let me make that fuckin’ clear.” he points at each with a low brow. “But for her. She needs someone out there to control things. People are gonna talk 'bout her. She’s got more to lose than me right now. And I will admit though, right, that I don’t wanna be shoutin’ and actin’ like some fuckin’ drunk in me own house in front of people.” he grunts.

“Whatever you have to tell yourself, Alfie.” Claire groans. “We just need you to trust us and let her have her space. She can’t become dependent on you either. It’s not good for either of you.”

“Yeah.” he mumbles. “Not no little pups no more are we love?” he sighs and kisses her head. “Can’t stay in the love bubble forever as you say.” he continues speaking to her despite her state of consciousness. “She’d want me back out there.” he admits.

“Yes. Yes she would.” Claire nods enthusiastically. “She would want you healthy, handling your business. She wouldn’t want you to decline because of her.”

“‘N today was fuckin’ decline, innit?” he groans and rubs his head.

“Most certainly. You really showed your arse today Alfie.” Aggie says still pouting and peeved.

“Alright Ags. Christ.” he chortles. “We’ll take it slow today, yeah? Call up Ollie and have ‘im over for tea. We’ll figure this out.” he answers quietly with authority as he looks down at Genevieve. “We’ll get back on track tomorrow. ‘Cause I feel right pissed wif ‘is in me system still. Fuckin’ embarrassin’.” he admits and shakes his head. “One day at time, yeah?” he speaks softly, kissing her hair again and taking a deep breath of her lavender scent. “Same as you little flower. Not gonna block the sun for ya to bloom with my big loud arse around all the time.” he beams and shuts his eyes and she mewls under the contact, nose mushed into his side. “One day at a time, love.”

Please like, comment and reblog if you enjoyed it! It helps out us writers A LOT!

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lifeisntafantasy · 6 years ago

Text

Depressed Deceit

Summary: Deceit has a bad week and it ends up getting him hurt

Tw: Mentions of past self harm, self harm, minor panic attack

3rd person p.o.v.

Everybody has their bad days but for Deceit, it's been a bad week. Monday, he woke up at like 3 am really sad and started to cry for no reason. He made sure to be quiet because he knew one of his boyfriends were awake and probably scrolling through Tumblr.

So he cried for about an hour, before he was too exhausted to stay awake any more and he passed out. He stayed sleeping for most of the day until 8 pm. He got out of bed and quietly went to the commons (not before making sure he didn't look like he was crying for an hour) and saw that all of his boyfriends were sitting in the kitchen, laughing and having a fun time without him. He felt the tears rising so he quickly went back to his room, accidentally slamming the door shut, locking it, sliding down on the door, and crying for a while. He ignored the banging on the door and the worried voices. He soon passed out again.

Tuesday wasn't any better for Deceit. He didn't leave his room. He wasn't hungry, he didn't want to bother his boyfriends with his negativity, he was light headed (probably from not eating or drinking for two days), and he just didn't have any energy to get off the floor in front of his door.

Throughout the day, his boyfriends tried to get him out of his room. They would knock on his door and ask him if he was okay and to come out, to which he would reply, "'M fine.. And ,here, I'll come out.... I'm gay."

They would try summoning him but he would just ignore them. They would also try to make Thomas summon him, which took a little more energy to ignore, but he managed. They would try to pop up in his room but they didn't know there was a way to block that (all you had to do was a special knock on the inside of the door).

They also tried to make him eat but he just ignored them. He didn't want them to worry but he just didn't have any energy. He was exhausted from crying on and off throughout the day but he couldn't fall asleep. His head hurt a lot. So did his arms from his constantly scratching at his faded scars.

Wednesday was probably the worst day of the week for Deceit. He felt numb. He didn't have much energy to do anything. His thoughts were loud. He wanted to make them stop and he knew there was only one way to make them stop. So he summoned something he promised himself and his boyfriends that he would never summon... His old pocket knife..

After a while he started crying again because he broke his promise to his boyfriends and now he thought they were going to hate him. So he just let his arms at his sides and cried on the floor, letting his arms stain the floor. After a few minutes he passed out from either exhaustion, blood loss, or hunger, he didn't know.

When he woke up, he didn't know what day it was or where he was and he started to panic because that meant his boyfriends probably summoned him while he was passed out and they found him. He started looking around and he realized who's room he was in: Patton's.

He started to cry because, one, his boyfriends found out, and two, they left him here alone and probably hate him. They would probably make sure he got better and then shun him like they did before. He didn't want that. He started to have a panic attack. Deceit started sobbing and his breathing was ragged. He didn't know how long he was there for, could've been a few seconds or a few hours, but then he felt someone wrap their arms around him gently and brush their fingers through his hair.

"Hey, hey, it's gonna be okay.. Can you try to breathe for me? In for four, hold for seven, and out for eight. Can you try?" The voice was soft and soothing.

Deceit tried to do the breathing technique but failed and it made him panic more because he couldn't breathe and his chest was burning he managed to stutter out, "I-I c-c-can't."

The source of the voice didn't leave like Deceit thought it would, "Yes you can. I believe in you. Come on, we'll try again. In for four." Once again, Deceit tried to breathe in for four seconds. This time he succeded. "Good," The voice said softly, "Now hold for 7 seconds."

Deceit tried to hold for 7 but only got to four. The source of the voice just kept trying. After a few more tries, Deceit got it right. Deceit looked up and saw who was the source of the voice and it was Roman.

"H-Hey Ro.. Th-Thanks.." Deceit mumbled looking at his arms, which he just realised were bandaged.

"No problem, Love. Are you okay?" Roman sighed. He didn't like that his boyfriend was hurt and didn't tell anyone about it.

Deceit sighed, "I... Do you guys hate me? I-I b-broke my promise..."

Roman looked shocked, "My love, how could we ever hate you? We just want to make sure you're safe. We love you, even though you broke your promise. We know you probably had a good reason to break your promise. We love you either way."

Deceit felt his heart figuratively melt, "O-Okay.. C-Could you summon the others so I can explain what happened..?"

Roman smiled, "Of course, my love." Roman flicked his wrist and their other three boyfriends appeared in the room. Once they all saw their boyfriend was awake, they all said something at the same time.

"Are you okay?"

"You had me so worried!"

"Don't you dare do that again or I'll murder you."

Deceit laughed softly at his boyfriends, "Yes, I'm okay now; I'm sorry I worried you; We all know you won't murder me." That's how he responded to them. "The reason I made Ro summon you guys because I need to tell you what happened this week.. First of, what day is it?"

They all opened their mouths to respond, but Logan spoke first, "It is Friday. You been unconscious for 2 days.."

Deceit nodded, looked at his hands, and sighed, "First off, I'm sorry I shut you all out.. I should've talked to you but this week has been difficult for me.. Monday started off with me waking up at around 3 in the morning and just full on sobbing," Virgil went to interrupt him but he put his hand up, to indicate he's not finished, "but I kept my crying silent because I knew Virgil was awake. So I cried for about an hour then passed out.

"Then I woke up at like.. 8 pm and quietly went to the commons. I saw you guys all laughing and having fun without me and I ran back to my room. I don't know why I didn't just join you guys.. My head just told me you guys were excluding me on purpose, that you didn't care that I was passed out for most of the day.. I cried for a while and passed out. Tuesday I didn't have energy for anything.. When you guys kept summoning me it took so much energy to ignore it.. I should've gone to you guys but I didn't want to annoy you with me being negative.. I'm sorry.." Deceit looked up from his hands and saw Patton and Virgil were close to crying, Logan had some tears in his eyes and Roman just looked sad. He felt tears come to his eyes as he was about to talk about what happened on Wednesday.

"O-On Wednesday.. I-I felt numb.. I had no energy.. And my thoughts were too loud.. I o-only knew one way to make th-them stop.. I-I'm sorry.. I summoned m-my old p-pocket kn-knife and started using i-it o-on m-my arms.. A-After a w-while I realised w-what I-I did and s-started t-to c-cry again and I p-passed out.. I'm sorry.." Deceit looked back at his hands when he finished.

Then he felt three more pairs of arms hug him. He also heard a bunch of sniffling which meant they were crying. He started to fully cry along with them.

After a few minutes of crying and hugging Logan, Patton, and Virgil all stood up. Roman was still laying next to Deceit on the bed. They were in silence for a bit while Deceit looked at all of them: Roman had tears rolling down his cheeks; Patton was silently sobbing still; Logan's cheeks were damp from crying; Virgil had makeup running down his face from crying.

"H-Hey, Racoon," Deceit chuckled, "Y-Your makeup is messed up." They all laughed as Virgil wiped his makeup. After a few minutes, Patton stopped sobbing and went over to Deceit.

"Hun, if you ever need to talk to us or if you ever feel like hurting yourself, come to us. No matter what, we'll be here for you. Even if we are doing something, we'll help." Deceit felt more tears come as he looked at his boyfriends, who were all nodding in agreement.

"Th-Thanks.. I-I love you g-guys.." He smiled.

"Aww! Love ya too, Kiddo!"

"I love you, too."

"You as well, Love!"

"Yeah, ditto."

"How about we all watch a bunch of movies and cuddle?" Logan suggested, much to Deceits surprise because usually Logan never suggested cuddling or anything. They all nodded and decided that the best place to do this was Roman's room since he had the biggest bed and T.V.

Roman smiled and picked Deceit up, bridal style, "C-C-C-Come on!" They all laughed at his reference and at him as he ran with Deceit. When the got to Roman's room, they all cuddled with Logan and Patton on one side, Deceit in the middle, snd Virgil and Roman on the other side.

"What movies are we watching?" Deceit asked. They all started shouting different movies.

"Harry Potter!"

"Disney!"

"Horror!"

"Cartoons!"

"How about we watch the third Harry Potter movie, Beauty and The Beast, live action version, It, then the Phineas and Ferb movie?" Deceit suggested.

"Sounds great!" Patton kissed Deceit's head, being next to him on the left.

Soon, they started watching the movies. Patton fell asleep during Beauty and The Beast and Roman fell asleep during It. Virgil, who was next to Deceit on his right, turned and looked at Deceit, "We love you, ya know?" He gave Deceit a small kiss and went back to watching the last movie. Deceit smiled.

"Yeah, I know. I'm goin' to sleep. Night Lo and Virge."

"Good night," Logan smiled.

"Night." Virgil yawned.

Deceit smiled with one last thought before falling asleep:

I'm loved

#ts patton #ts roman #ts logan #ts virgil #ts sanders sides #ts deceit #deceit sanders #sympathetic deceit #tw deceit #virgil sanders #sanders sides virgil #patton sanders #logan sanders #romantic dlamp #roman sanders #i dont know how to tag this #how do you tag #how do i tag this

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paladinpeterparker · 6 years ago

Text

Your Last Words // Tyrus

Summary: Everyone has the last words they'll ever hear their soulmate say written on their wrist. For some, the words on their wrist are pretty mundane for last words. But, for Cyrus Goodman and TJ Kippen, the words on their wrists are not normal. Both Cyrus and TJ fear that they'll never find their soulmate. Then, one day, Cyrus finally realizes that his soulmate has been there all along.

[Hope you all enjoy this fic! This soulmate AU idea is based on a Tumblr post that I saw, so the credit for this idea goes to whoever came up with this idea. Also, on a side note: my apologies if my stupid fucking “keep reading” isn’t working and you have to scroll all the way past this. I can’t seem to get the “keep reading” to function. I think I’m cursed, I swear. Anyways.]

“Cyrus, I’m in love with you.” The words had been on Cyrus’s skin for as long as he could remember. That’s how it was for everyone. Everyone in the world had a sentence on their wrist. For some, it was a short sentence, even just a word. For some, it was a long, wordy sentence, full of beautiful words and memories. These words weren’t random. Each person had written on their wrists the last words that they would ever hear their soulmate say. Most people choose to keep the words on their wrists a secret. Some people choose to share them with close friends or family. Andi, Buffy, and Cyrus had all shared their words with one another. Andi’s was pretty normal. It said, “Thank you for everything.” Buffy’s was less normal: “I’m so, so sorry.” Cyrus’s was the one that confused all three of them. His didn’t seem like a person’s dying words. It didn’t seem like something that had been planned or thought out. It wasn’t anything really mundane, either. The words had confused him since the day he understood what they meant. What they really meant.

All that Cyrus knew was that no one had ever said those words to him, so at least he was sure that his soulmate was alive and was out there. Somewhere. He hadn’t really been confident that he would ever find his soulmate, though. At first, he had thought that Jonah could be his soulmate, but, over time, as he and Jonah grew closer, he realized that the idea of Jonah being his soulmate was completely far-fetched. After this, he was back to feeling as if he would never meet his soulmate. Then, TJ walked into his life. Cyrus wasn’t sure that TJ was his soulmate. He couldn’t be, anyway. He didn't know if TJ even liked him back. He didn’t even know if TJ liked boys. He figured that the idea of TJ being his soulmate was just as out-there as the idea of Jonah being his soulmate. But, he still had hope, and, the more his crush on TJ grew, the more he hoped that TJ was his soulmate. The words on Cyrus’s wrist unnerved him, though, especially if he thought that TJ could be his soulmate. Did that mean that he would never get to have a relationship with his soulmate? Would they die right after confessing their feelings? Part of Cyrus wanted TJ to be his soulmate. Then, part of him didn’t, because he knew that he may never get to fully love his soulmate -- they would probably die right before he got to say that he loved them, too.

—

“TJ, look out!” No one was sure what to think of the words written on TJ’s wrist. They didn’t seem to have any deeper meaning. They were just...ominous. TJ, of course, had nightmares about them. He would dream about his soulmate telling him to look out, then him getting shot. He would dream that he would hear his soulmate yell these words, then he would slip off a ladder and fall to his death. Sometimes, he would even dream that his soulmate would yell those words, then push him out of the path of a car or a bus, and they would end up dying just to save his life. TJ wasn’t sure he liked the concept of knowing the last words he would ever hear his soulmate say to him. He often wished that he could just live without knowing that he may lose his soulmate before he even knew that they were his soulmate. TJ’s words sometimes interfered with his daily life, too. During basketball, whenever a basketball came close to hitting TJ, he would hear someone yell, “TJ, look out!” and, instead of moving aside or ducking, he would look frantically for the source of the voice. While TJ may have been paranoid about the words written on his wrist, he wasn’t confident that he would ever find his soulmate. A year ago or so, TJ had had a crush on Marty, which hadn’t gone anywhere. He had thought that maybe they could be soulmates. But, it became obvious that Marty was into Buffy, and, after that, TJ moved on, and moved back to being sure that there was no one out there for him. Who knows? Maybe his soulmate was already gone. He was confident that he would never find a soulmate until that day at the swings when he got to know Cyrus. He didn’t let himself feel too much hope, though. Cyrus might not be his soulmate, and it would be foolish to think otherwise. As they grew closer, TJ tried to keep from hoping. He tried to keep from thinking that Cyrus could be his soulmate. Every time Cyrus smiled at him, every time they laughed together, TJ found it harder and harder to keep this hope at bay.

—

This hope was dangerous, at least, to TJ. Everyday, mundane moments with Cyrus could make his blood run cold just at the sound of three words.

One day, TJ finally saw how dangerous this hope was. The sun had just set, and TJ and Cyrus were sitting on the swings. They had gone out to eat to celebrate TJ getting a B on a math test, and had wound up on the playground.

Cyrus was swinging high on the swings, and TJ was simply watching him. Seeing Cyrus’s face lit up with laughter was somehow better than any math grade that he could have received. As TJ was looking at Cyrus, Cyrus glances over at TJ and caught him staring. For a brief moment, their eyes met, then, flustered, TJ looked down at his watch. “It’s getting pretty late, underdog. We should get going.” “Alright,” Cyrus said. “Just another minute of swinging. Please?” TJ rolled his eyes, pretending to be annoyed. “Fine.” He stood up and stretched. Without looking where he was going, he stepped forward, right in front of Cyrus’s swing. As Cyrus swung towards him, he yelled, “TJ, look out!” TJ jumped out of the way, moving before the words had a chance to set in. When they did, he felt the blood drain from his face. He looked up at Cyrus, who was watching him with a quizzical expression on his face. “What’s wrong?” Cyrus asked. “You look like you’ve just seen a ghost.” Seeing that Cyrus was okay, TJ felt his panic shift to anger. “Cyrus, what the hell?”

—

Cyrus wasn’t sure why TJ was reacting this way. He had simply told TJ to move out of the way so he wouldn’t get hit by a swinging Cyrus. Now, TJ looked simultaneously like he wanted to pass out and he wanted to scream. Cyrus wasn’t quite sure which he would do. “I’m sorry,” Cyrus sputtered. “I really am. I didn’t mean to offend you or anything.” Cyrus stepped closer to TJ, who was looking down at the ground. Cyrus reached out and put a hand on TJ’s shoulder; TJ was shaking. Concerned, Cyrus asked, “TJ, are you okay?” TJ shook his head. “I don’t think so.” Cyrus frowned. “Wanna talk about it?” “Not really,” TJ replied. The two boys were silent for a moment, then TJ spoke up. “Those words, Cyrus, they...” TJ trailed off. “They...what?” Cyrus asked. “What about them?” Before he spoke again, TJ reached down and pushed up the sleeve of his hoodie, pointing to the words on his wrist. “They’re the same words that are written here.” Without thinking, Cyrus stepped forward, closer to TJ, and examined the words on his wrist: “TJ, look out!” “Oh, yikes,” Cyrus said. “Sorry, then, for saying that.” “You don’t have to be sorry,” TJ said. “It’s not your fault.” Cyrus was still looking at the words scrawled on TJ’s skin. “Why did you freak out though, when I said it?” He paused, thinking. “It’s not like we’re soulmates or anything.” The words had come out before Cyrus could think them through. Before he could apologize, TJ had pulled his wrist away from Cyrus and had turned and begun to walk away. “TJ, wait!” Cyrus said. “I’m sorry!” He tried to catch up to TJ, but it was like a bad math problem: TJ’s speed was just fast enough that Cyrus couldn’t seem to catch him at all. As the two of them reached the road, where the park ended, TJ’s pace slowed. Cyrus finally caught up to him and grabbed TJ’s arm so he couldn’t run away before Cyrus could apologize. “TJ, I’m sorry,” Cyrus said, still slightly out of breath. “Then why did you say what you did, Cyrus?” TJ crossed his arms. “I don’t know, okay? I just…didn’t think—” TJ cut Cyrus off before he could finish. “Yeah, you didn’t think. Cyrus, why wouldn’t I freak out about hearing you say those words?” Cyrus shrugged. “I just...didn’t think we could be soulmates. You’re you, and I’m...me. I didn’t think that you thought we could be soulmates.” At that, TJ turned away from Cyrus again, wrenching his arm from Cyrus’s grasp. He began to walk closer to the road, as if he was trying to get as far away from Cyrus as he could. Cyrus felt like he was going to cry. He just kept saying the wrong things; he was messing everything up. He didn’t know how to say what he was feeling to TJ, because he knew that TJ might not feel the same. Finally, TJ turned back around and spoke. “Cyrus, I don’t just think we could be soulmates. I want us to be soulmates. And maybe you don’t feel the same. That’s fine.” “I-I…” Cyrus didn’t know how to respond. He felt frozen, as if he was in shock; he hadn’t expected TJ to say that. “You...like me?” Exasperated, TJ ran a hand through his hair. “Cyrus, I don’t just like you, okay? I...I love you.” “What?” Cyrus asked, still confused about why TJ was saying all of this, and why now. TJ looked at Cyrus, his hair reflecting an odd yellow light that Cyrus hadn’t seen there a moment ago. His gaze softened, as if all of the anger had gone away. “Cyrus, I’m in love with you.” Cyrus felt his heartbeat quicken. TJ felt the same way about him. TJ had just said that he was in love with Cyrus. Wait. TJ had just said he was in love with Cyrus. Cyrus couldn’t breathe. The words on his wrist seemed to prick at his skin. Before he could think, before he could move, before he could breathe again, Cyrus saw the headlights. He saw a car, speeding down the road, heading right for TJ. It was all happening too quickly. TJ didn’t seem to see the car, he was too focused on Cyrus. Cyrus felt rooted to the spot. He couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t do anything. Finally, he managed to scream, “TJ, look out!” A bright light. A scream. The squeal of brakes on the road. Cyrus’s head began to swim. He heard voices, yelling, crying. Then, everything went dark.

—

25 years later. Nothing was the same after that night. It was something that Cyrus knew he would never forget. It haunted his dreams, every night reminding him of what he hadn’t done. When he walked down the street, he sometimes saw TJ’s face among the crowd, young, still full of life, and with a wistful smile on his face, just like he had been the last time that Cyrus saw him. Then, Cyrus realized that it couldn’t be possible — TJ was dead. They had all tried to move on. For Andi and Buffy, it was a lot easier. They tried to support Cyrus, but they didn’t know how. They hadn’t lost their soulmates, so they didn’t know how it felt or how to help Cyrus. They were all sure that Andi ended up with her soulmate, as surprising as that was for everyone. Cyrus had attended the wedding just a few months ago. It lifted his spirits to see that Andi and Amber had found happiness with one another. Buffy’s was a different story. She found her soulmate, then she lost him. She had found out that Marty was her soulmate when it was too late. They had been dating for a few years, and everything had been going well. Then, out of the blue, they had a fight over something small, something so insignificant that Buffy had forgotten what it was about. Everything they had built together began to break down. One night, after a particularly bad argument, Buffy asked Marty to leave. He did leave, but on his way out the door, he turned and gave Buffy a final look, and said, “I do love you, Buffy. And for all of this, I’m so, so sorry.” Then, he turned and walked out the door. Marty didn’t die, of course, but those were the last words that Buffy ever heard him say to her. After they broke up, they never spoke again, and Buffy realized that she had lost her one true soulmate. Cyrus tried to be happy. He married a guy that he had met in college, and the two were happy together. And Cyrus was happy. But, then came the nights when TJ’s face appeared in his dreams, drowned in a sickly yellow light. The days when Cyrus tried to catch up to him on the streets, only to realize that TJ had never been there at all. There were the days when Cyrus would glimpse the words on his wrist, which had faded from black to a scar-like white, and think of what he had lost. But he was happy. That’s what he told himself.

[Sorry that this fic is a little angsty! But not really. Hope you all at least kind of enjoyed?]

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