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artificialqueens · 4 years ago

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Me and You Together, 6/10 (Taywhora) - Ortega

fic summary: The cardinal rule of having flatmates is that you Do Not Catch Feelings For Your Flatmates, because everything inevitably goes to shit and gets made horrifically awkward. A’whora and Tayce both know this, but being in first year of uni and making good decisions have never really gone hand in hand.

a/n: won't say much but i will say that i love tits and cats but i love reblogs, screaming in the tags and asks a whole lot more babes. if u like this i would love any of the former, but mostly the latter xo hope u all enjoy this chapter!!! cw for smut fam (hwfg!!)

last chapter: February- Valentine's Day saw Tayce and A'whora's cover blown as they were interrupted by Ellie and Lawrence.

this chapter: April- a lot has happened since last month, and at Lawrence’s friend’s flat party A’whora struggles with her feelings for Tayce. The trouble is, neither of them have ever been any good at sticking to the rules.

***

In front of the wooden tenement door with the music and voices muffled behind it, A’whora watches as Ellie frowns, tugs at the hemline of her green snakeskin-patterned skirt.

“Is this too short?”

“ No , Ellie,” A’whora, Tayce and Tia all groan at her in sync before giggling at the absurdity of their unison. She catches Tayce’s eye for a second before smiling bashfully and looking at the floor, electing to tuck a piece of hair behind her ear. She wordlessly orders her heart to calm down, to stop doing backflips the way it’s doing right now. A reaction like that is much too selfish, against everything they said they would be going forward.

“Ain’t short enough,” Bimini shrugs blithely, hitching the top of their own hotpants up as if to make a point but only succeeding to rip their fishnets on one of their chunky rings. “Shit.”

“Were they new?” Tayce asks.

“Yeah. A whole two quid out of Primark.”

“How is your bank account ever gonny recover?” Lawrence dramatises, clutching at her heart as Bimini sticks their tongue out at her good-humouredly. As the others snort at Lawrence’s joke, Lawrence herself turns to Ellie and pats her arm. “It’s not too anything, you look great.”

A’whora doesn’t miss the way Ellie flushes red as she thanks her friend, and in spite of herself she finds herself trying to hide a smile. If she can’t be happy, at least one of her friends looks like she’s on her way to figuring her own feelings out soon enough. A’whora just hopes it’ll all have a better ending than her own love story seems to have had.

“Have we definitely got the right flat, Lawrence? You’ve not just brought us to some randomer’s party by accident?” Tia agonises as she rubs her arms, self-conscious and cold. April’s blessed them with some sporadic day-long heatwaves but tonight hasn’t been as kind; the walk over to Lawrence’s friend’s flat party had been chilly, and they’d all needed their jackets.

A’whora supposes the temperature suits her situation.

Embittered by the cold and her self-pity, A’whora rolls her eyes. “It’s not 2010 anymore, Tia, nobody says randomers .”

“Well I do,” Tia shrugs lightly, and before A’whora can begin to bicker with her Lawrence huffs a sigh of exasperation.

“It’s the right flat, awrite?! I have been here before, you know. She’ll answer any second. Could yous all just stop the arguing and pretend to be normal human beings for once in your lives?”

A’whora raises her eyebrows pointedly. “A feat that’s going to be harder for some of us than others…”

As both Lawrence and Tia whip their heads round to scold her, the front door opens to reveal a tall girl with full lips, striking hazel eyes and a thick head of candyfloss pink hair that tumbles down over her shoulders and the straps of the tight black bodysuit she’s wearing. She’s gorgeous, and A’whora is immediately intimidated. Her eyes dart to Tayce in a small panic, trying to gauge her reaction, but she’s distracted by Lawrence’s “WAHEY!” and the girl’s excited squeal as they pull each other into a hug.

“Lads, this is Rosé, Rosé, lads!” Lawrence gestures at her flatmates flippantly, and A’whora waves a hand in an awkward hello much like the rest of the others. Lawrence turns her attention back to her friend with an apologetic grimace. “Hope you don’t mind me bringing them, babes. I know you said bring people if they’re cool, but I don’t actually know any cool people, so…”

A’whora holds back a snort as she watches Tayce’s face screw up in involuntary offence. Rosé, for her part, just laughs and ushers them all in warmly.

“Don’t be silly, of course it’s fine! Come in, baby, let’s get you and your friends sat down and you can introduce me properly, m’kay?”

Once they’ve hung up their jackets Rosé leads the six of them through a crowded hallway, forgoes the thump of the bass and the packed space of bodies all crammed together in the kitchen and instead chooses a quieter room. The multiple sofas, stained coffee table and mismatched chairs suggest it’s a living room of sorts. There’s already people on the couches but Rosé simply bats them away as if they’re flies, irritation on her face.

“Move, my friends are sitting here,” she says simply, before the others grunt and slink off like foxes, tails between their legs. Rosé pats the now-empty seats, pulling a face. “Sorry about them. They’re just girls we hung out with last year before we realised what they were actually like. Freshers friendships, y’know? Nobody really wants them to be here, but Jan insisted we had to invite them so things weren’t awkward.”

“Ever the diplomat, oor Janette,” Lawrence smiles with understanding, throwing herself down beside her friend comfortably. Ellie quickly sits beside her on the other spare space, prompting A’whora to take the other sofa that’s left.

(To her surprise, Tayce sits beside her. Not close, though. A’whora doesn’t know what she expected.)

It leaves Tia and Bimini to take the other smaller couch, and as they sit Rosé stays true to her word and introduces herself to everyone, making an effort to learn their names and appearing genuinely pleased to meet them all (although that could just be a result of the bottle she’s drinking from). When she gets to Ellie her face grows scheming, and A’whora doesn’t miss the way she digs Lawrence in the ribs.

“So you’re Ellie! I’ve heard so much about you from Lawrence,” Rosé purrs, earning a glare from her friend and a laugh from Ellie.

“Fuck’s sake, I bet you have. All horror stories, I’m sure.”

“Oh no, quite the opposite,” Rosé smiles smugly, then flinches suddenly with a hiss. It doesn’t take Poirot to figure out that Lawrence is the cause.

“SO, Rosé! Where the fuck is your girlfriend anyway? Don’t tell me she’s left you,” Lawrence says, too-quickly and too-loudly.

“Shut up. Last time I saw her she was in the kitchen talking to one of her graduate friends,” Rosé pouts faux-dejectedly. “Think it’s a girl who studied fashion design so they were in the same faculty and knew each other for a bit.”

A’whora perks up. “Oh, we’d get on then, I think. I’m studying fashion design too, and Ellie does costume.”

“I’ll get Jan to introduce you!” Rosé smiles enthusiastically, before continuing with the conversation. “Plus I totally didn’t realise she was flatmates with Nina, who was in the MT society with us last year! Small world, huh?”

“Oh my God! You guys did MT?” Tia squeals excitedly. A’whora presses her lips together to stop herself from saying anything; trust Tia to be completely unable to play things cool. “I’m in it this year! How come we haven’t met before?”

Rosé giggles, covers her mouth with her hand. “We didn’t audition this year. Not to be rude, but we wanted to give everyone else a fighting chance, you know? We’ve got a slot in the Jazz Bar with our friend every Tuesday now instead.”

Tia’s face drops like she’s been slapped, and A’whora can’t help the way her eyebrows fly up her forehead. As she looks to Tayce, though, she’s disheartened. Usually Tayce would chime in with a little whoop in response to the shady comment, throw herself right into the conversation, be the complete life and soul of the party. Instead she’s muted, quiet, practically a wallflower in comparison. A’whora knows this isn’t like her. The guilt eats her up as she knows it’s somehow her fault, but still she can’t work out exactly why.

“Kandace!” Rosé suddenly yells out into the hall, startling A’whora somewhat. “Where’s my girlfriend, mama?”

Just then a girl enters the room, her dark hair in thick braids which she flips over her shoulder dramatically. “Well damn, bitch, I never took her! Would know better than to do so, you would come at me with a big...pizza cutter or some shit. She prolly in the kitchen drinking all the punch.”

“There’s punch?” Ellie pipes up, Tia’s wide eyes and anticipative smile matching her excitement.

“Damn right there’s punch, what sort of party d’you think this is? Amateurs. C’mon, I’ll show you both. You can introduce yourselves on the way,” the girl shrugs with the efficient energy of an infant teacher.

“Oh, I like you already,” Ellie smiles as she springs up from the sofa, and A’whora doesn’t miss the crestfallen look that takes over Lawrence’s face in response to Ellie's departure.

“Rosé, if I find Jan I’ll send her through,” the girl yells from over her shoulder, as the three of them leave the room. Rosé immediately turns to Lawrence as Ellie leaves, whispers something like ‘ so when are you gonna tell her?’ before she’s hastily shushed by her friend.

A’whora always has to remind herself she’s not meant to know about Lawrence’s crush on Ellie. She only knows because Tayce told her. Tayce doesn’t really tell her things these days, not in the same way she used to. Their chats used to be deep and meaningful, shared over a glass of wine in a dimly-lit bar or in bed pressed close together and wrapped around each other like vines. Now it’s flippant inquiries into how each others’ day was that neither of them care about the answer to, the question only serving as a box-ticking exercise to maintain the illusion of friendship.

That’s what they said they’d be. So why does this friendship feel so different to the one they had before?

Well. A’whora knows why.

She’d thought this situation would be perfect- Lawrence had been invited to Rosé’s pre-exam-season flat party, and of course had in turn invited the whole flat too- and A’whora had assumed that it would be the perfect opportunity to get everything back on track with Tayce, a little bit of alcohol giving them the gentle nudge in the right direction that they needed to mend whatever had snapped between them. But as Tayce sips one of the cans of cider she’s brought with her, she only smiles at Rosé politely and laughs half-heartedly at Lawrence’s jokes.

It’s been weeks since that day in March and A’whora’s still trying to figure out what exactly happened. It’s strange for something to be over before it ever really had a chance to begin.

Her thoughts are ruptured by the arrival of two more people: a boy with black hair, an earring and a black denim jacket and a girl with tumbling straight blonde hair and warm brown eyes. She’s got a pink sash that’s squint and falling off her shoulder, and a huge pink birthday badge pinned to her purple dress. When she walks in, Rosé’s whole face lights up.

A’whora tries to remember if Tayce’s face ever did that when she came into a room.

“There’s my baby!” Rosé beams, holds out her arms for a hug. The girl instead elects to tumble down onto her lap, and the two of them giggle like Care Bears.

Fleetingly, A’whora hates them.

“Oh, fuck me, right?” the boy fakes offence, before Rosé rolls her eyes and pats the space beside her where Lawrence has scooted up.

“You know damn well I was referring to you,” she addresses him, before turning to her girlfriend once more. “Jan, Mik, these are Lawrence’s flatmates!”

“Oh my God, adorbs! Lil’ fresher babies,” the boy says, with a vocal fry to rival that of a Valley girl. A’whora knows he doesn’t mean to be patronising, but her back’s put up all the same.

She’s probably just in a bad mood over Tayce.

“I hope it’s okay I brought them,” Lawrence says, apologising for their very presence for the second time that evening.

“Hey, the more people here to get drunk and forget about the overwhelming stress of deadline season, the better,” the girl shrugs cheerfully, then waves to nobody in particular. “Nice to meet you all! I’m Jan, that’s Mik. Can I learn names? Pronouns if you want to as well?”

Lawrence slaps her thigh decisively. “Crackin’ idea, I’ll start. I’m Lawrence and my pronouns are she/her, or fat/bastard.”

The room is filled with hysterical laughter that immediately breaks any ice that had been present between the freshers and the second year students. As they all introduce themselves politely, A’whora doesn’t fail to notice the way Mik’s eyes light up when Bimini introduces themself.

“Hey, do you know if they’re single?” Mik asks Lawrence, tipsy and sloppy and in a whisper that isn’t really a whisper. A’whora can’t help but laugh as she watches Bimini blush from their position on the sofa and smile over at Mik, flattered.

“Sorry to disappoint, babes, but I’m taken.”

It’s with Bimini’s words that Lawrence gives a yell of surprise and A’whora’s jaw drops open in shock. She can’t help the way she immediately looks wide-eyed at Tayce, and her heart jumps a hurdle when she sees her looking in her direction with much the same expression. Tayce’s shock at the secret Bimini’s kept from them prompts her to lurch forward on the sofa and give a cry of surprise.

“Ex-squeeze me, Bimini Bon Boulash?! Since bloody when ?!”

Bimini shrugs, clearly bashful. “Made things official with Asttina late on last month. Ain’t a big deal.”

“And when were you going to tell us this exactly? Were you gonna leave it in your last will and testament or something?!” A’whora cries, heart jarring at the laugh her words earn from Tayce.

Bimini stretches in their own catlike way, unbothered and laid back to an almost horizontal extent. “Well, you never asked.”

“What the hell?! This is big. C’mon Rory,” Tayce suddenly turns to A’whora and clutches at her hand frantically, and in doing so sends a thousand sparks flying between them. As A’whora’s pulse leaps, Tayce does the same off the sofa. “We need to go find the others. You ain’t getting away with just the three of us on this interrogation squad, Mx Bimini!”

“Alright, Line of effin’ Duty,” Bimini chuckles good-naturedly, and A’whora allows Tayce to drag her up off the sofa and through to the hall.

Tayce is giggling as she’s weaving them both through the crowd, and for a moment it’s like nothing has ever changed between them. A’whora’s not been keeping track of how many cans Tayce has had so far but she herself has only had three (two at pres, one here so far), so she’s not attributing that to the sudden personality transplant. She’s trying not to overthink it too much but this is the most authentic interaction she’s had with Tayce for a while, and it’s silly, but it’s hard to believe it’s not too good to be true.

For a moment, she’s almost glad Bimini didn’t tell them about Asttina if it meant she and Tayce could bond like this.

“Can you bloody believe it?!” Tayce squeaks at her as they reach the kitchen and, in turn, the punch bowl. Tayce wrenches two red cups from the stack beside it and fills them up with the ambiguous orange liquid that’s inside, pouring it sloppily and messily from the ladle. “I mean they’re meant to be our bloody friend! And then they don’t even tell us about the breaking news in their own love life! What goes on!”

“To be fair…” A’whora begins without thinking, then snaps her mouth closed as her heart shudders in her chest. She’d been about to say we kept us a secret from them too but she can’t bring that up now, send them crashing back down to earth and into the broken, uncomfortable bed they’ve somehow made. So she smiles tightly at Tayce who’s looking at her expectantly, takes the cup she’s holding out to her as she finishes her sentence. “...Bim’s always been a pretty private person.”

Tayce shrugs and holds the cup to her lips before she raises her eyebrows, takes it away and holds it out in the middle between them. “Cheers, slag.”

Silly and overeager, A’whora crashes their cups together then takes a too-big swig. The punch fills her mouth like poison and she feels her eyes grow wide as she swallows and then gags, Tayce doubling over laughing at her reaction.

“What the fuck is in that?!” she cries with horror, looking at the cup with incredulity as Tayce continues to laugh at her expense.

“It’s called punch for a reason, girl! It ain’t some fruity dilutey Slug and Lettuce pornstar martini tree we’re talking about here!”

“Punch is right. Feel like I’ve been punched in the fucking stomach,” A’whora screws her face up. Tayce’s face lights up and her hand rests on A’whora’s arm as she launches into a story excitedly.

“Oh my God. D’you remember that time we made punch back near freshers week and Lawrence added that thing to it...fuck, what was it called?! She kept calling it ‘wreck the hoose juice’.”

“Buckfast!” A’whora remembers with glee, trying not to grow too animated because if she moves she might scare Tayce away like she’s some sort of rare bird. This is the closest she’s been to Tayce in every sense for quite a while, and the moment is so magical that she’s determined not to let it slip away.

“That was it! And then the next day we were all so ill we were like...convinced we’d been spiked! But it was just that bloody Buckfast!”

As the pair of them giggle, A’whora starts laughing harder as she remembers what Tayce had said.

“Sorry, but hearing the words ‘wreck the hoose juice’ in a Welsh accent is probably the funniest thing I’ve heard in weeks.”

Tayce removes her hand from her arm only to slap her on it. “Oh, because the same thing in a Worksop accent is so much better!”

“We should get Ellie to say it. She's Scottish, it'll sound the same as when Lawrence says it,” A’whora says, then scans her gaze around the room and narrows her eyes. “Where the hell is she, anyway? We still need to tell her and Tia about Bim.”

The roar of a countdown from ten down to one on the other side of the kitchen prompts both her and Tayce’s gazes to wrench in its direction, only for their eyes to fall on Tia glugging a horrific-looking brown concoction out of a pint glass and Ellie yelling descending numbers at her, along with Rosé’s flatmate they’d disappeared with and a crowd of strangers.

“Of course,” Tayce deadpans, earning a snort from A’whora. Just then, A'whora remembers some chat Ellie had told her while they were getting ready, and she turns to tell Tayce without thinking. It's just natural to tell Tayce these sorts of things by now, and she's missed doing so.

“You know Ellie told me earlier she’s gonna like...see what happens with Lawrence tonight?” A’whora relays to Tayce eagerly, before she forgets that Tayce had sworn her to secrecy about the whole thing and her mouth snaps shut. It’s too late though, because Tayce is fixing her with a single raised eyebrow and a smirk which shouldn’t make A’whora’s stomach flip over like it does.

Friends, friends, friends.

“God, wonder how come Ellie’s suddenly over Tia and open to Lawrence?” she teases her, and A’whora groans apologetically.

“Look, I know you said not to tell anyone but it was the day they had that row in the flat,” she explains, belatedly and awkwardly realising that it had been the same day that she and Tayce had had that conversation and everything had changed between them. A’whora tries to shake the feeling of regret as she carries on. “Ellie was saying how Lawrence didn’t care about her and all that and it...well, it just came out. I had to shut her up somehow.”

Tayce shakes her head and laughs, toeing the line between long-suffering and affectionate. When she takes A’whora’s hand and squeezes it the line is crossed, and a thousand fireworks go off in her bloodstream. Tayce's eyes are soft as she looks at her and it only makes A’whora’s heart hurt.

“My fault, really. Should’ve known you can’t keep a secret to save yourself.”

“Kept us a secret for long enough,” A’whora says before she can stop herself. She feels like slapping a hand over her mouth, a flimsy gesture illustrating her mistake, and from the way Tayce lets go of her hand and looks to the floor it seems she regrets it just as much as A’whora does.

Fuck.

When Tayce snaps her head back up there’s a smile on her face that A’whora knows is fake, and she sets her cup down on the counter as she looks back over at Ellie and Tia. “Right! You wait here and guard the punch. I’ll drag those two hounds over and we can give them the goss.”

A’whora nods as she takes her turn to look to the floor, and suddenly Tayce is off in the direction of their other flatmates and all she can do is sit and stew in her embarrassment and regret at having said the wrong thing yet-a-fucking-gain.

Ellie has told A’whora countless times to just talk to her! and that if you just sit and chat things through everything will be fixed! but it’s been things A’whora’s said that’s somehow got them into this mess, even though she still doesn’t really know what specifically it was that made Tayce make the decision to stop it all, to stop falling asleep together and waking up together and going on dates (because they were dates, and that’s the hill A’whora will die on) and talking to each other like they’d known each other for eight years and not eight months.

When she thinks about the ways she misses Tayce, the sex isn’t even the first thing that comes to mind. That’s how she knows she was in deep. Well, still is. But A’whora would be lying if she said she didn’t still think about Tayce when her hands are between her thighs, has to stop the memories that flood her head when she's in the shower, moans just that little bit too loudly when she uses her vibrator in the pathetic hope that Tayce will hear her through the wall.

She supposes there’s a ridiculous part of her that misses the intimacy and the closeness most of all.

“Aurora!”

A’whora’s dragged out of her thoughts and turns around to see Jan standing beside a tall blonde in a tight red dress. Even though her mind is still entirely preoccupied by Tayce, her mouth goes a little dry and her heart skips a beat because...well, she still knows an attractive girl when she sees one. She fixes the two girls with a polite smile as Jan gestures at the girl beside her.

“This is Brooke Lynn! She’s my friend from the design faculty that did fashion? Rosé was saying you wanted introduced.”

A’whora feels her cheeks flush red as Brooke cocks an eyebrow at her and smirks. “Truthfully, I’m flattered. Always happy to meet a fan.”

A’whora shakes her head and gives an embarrassed laugh. “That’s not...I mean-”

“I’m just fucking with you. Nice to meet you,” Brooke smiles lazily, leaning against the countertop as Jan slips away. “So Jan was saying you’re studying design too?”

“Yeah! I mean, it’s hell on earth just now, especially with deadline season coming up. But I do actually really enjoy it most of the time,” A’whora replies politely.

Brooke laughs in fond recollection. “God, I don’t miss that. Portfolios were a bitch.”

“Right!” A’whora agrees enthusiastically. “It’s quite nice, though, because lots of my flatmates are at the art school as well, so we kind of all have that shared bond of going through the shit together. Lawrence does textiles, Ellie does costume and Tayce does fine art. In fact, that’s Ellie and Tayce over there.”

A’whora turns to point to where Tayce has found Ellie, although she’s perturbed to see the two of them already looking their way. Ellie’s eyes widen as she gives them an awkward wave and Tayce immediately looks elsewhere, her entire body language shifty as if she’s been caught out.

A’whora’s pulse starts to race all over again. Is she…? No.

But then she thinks about that night in December when they first kissed, how A’whora had been driven so crazy by Tayce talking to so many other girls that she was basically forced to show her hand and her feelings. She knows they said they’d be friends, but this situation is being handed to her on a plate and she’d be an idiot to turn it down.

So A’whora flips some of her hair over her shoulder and exposes her neck as she tilts her head with interest. “So, Rosé was saying you graduated last year?”

She and Brooke Lynn talk for a while; A’whora doesn’t know if it’s five minutes or twenty, but with every passing minute she steps up the flirting just a little tiny bit more, so that it’s nearly imperceptible to any onlookers. Tayce is different though, because she’s not just any onlooker. To anyone else it just looks like two strangers getting to know each other at a party, but A’whora knows Tayce sees every time she tucks her hair behind her ears, every time she giggles behind her hands, every time she nods eagerly at whatever Brooke is saying.

She can feel Tayce’s eyes on her, and A’whora would be lying if she said it didn’t make her stomach flip over all the more.

She’s not getting much from Brooke, though: not much of a reaction, not much reciprocation, not much anything. So the moment she steps things up a bit and touches her lightly on the arm as she laughs at a joke she’s made, A’whora’s sure it’ll get her somewhere. Only Brooke pulls a face, moves her arm away and apologises.

“God, I’m sorry...you’re sweet, but I’ve actually got a girlfriend,” she explains, and A’whora feels herself blush, embarrassed at having been spurned but also that it was all in full view of Tayce. It’s made even worse by the way Brooke’s face lights up as her eyes fall on someone over A’whora’s shoulder. “In fact, here she is now! Hey, baby.”

Another girl appears from behind her and moves to stand beside Brooke, wrapping a protective arm around her waist. She’s small and pretty and hostile, and A’whora is suddenly regretting the entire making-Tayce-jealous endeavour if she’s about to get grief from Brooke’s girlfriend.

“And who the fuck is this bitch?” the girl says by way of an introduction, not so much a question but a demand.

“Vanessa…” Brooke looks at her warningly, but the girl continues regardless.

“Nah, I just wanna know what business she thinks she has comin’ onto my girl like this?” she narrows her eyes at A’whora. A’whora, for her part, has never wanted the ground to open up and swallow her more.

This never happened to Tayce in December, that’s for fucking sure.

“Honestly, babes, we were just talking. She’s just told me she’s taken, I would never have tried anything if I’d known,” she tries to explain, but judging from how the girl reacts she’s only made the situation worse.

“Babes? I ain’t your babe, Milkybar-Kid-lookin’ ass!” she cries, and A’whora feels her eyes darting to the punch bowl beside her, suddenly terrified that the liquid inside it could be used as a potential weapon. “Bet your damn life she’s taken, bitch!”

A’whora’s weighing up the options of apologising more or escalating this into a full-scale brawl (because really, who the fuck does this girl think she’s talking to?) when she feels a hand slip into the crook of her elbow and tug her away from the kitchen, the pint-pot Conor McGregor still yelling at her as she leaves.

“Okay, home time,” Tayce’s voice says, amusement coating her words and only serving to make A’whora feel worse. As she turns to look at her she sees Ellie on her other side, who ducks into the living room as Tayce picks up their jackets from the hooks in the hall.

“Tia wants to stay and keep drinking, think she’s found some of her MT friends here,” Tayce explains, handing A’whora her coat with a little smile. “Ellie’s gone to get Lawrence and Bim. What the bloody hell was that, girl?”

A’whora rolls her eyes petulantly, annoyed that her plan hadn’t exactly been as successful as she’d hoped. “Well, you know what they say. The hot ones are always taken.”

“Not always,” Tayce shrugs at her, a little twinkle in her eye as Ellie reappears with Lawrence on her arm.

“Bim’s gonny stay and look after Tia. They’re staying at Asttina’s tonight, anyway, so they can drop Tia off at ours or Veronica's depending on what she wants to do,” Lawrence explains, only a little unsteady on her feet. “Anyway, what’s this I’m hearing about A’whora being a homewrecker?”

As they leave the party, A’whora reluctantly tells the story and the three of them all laugh and joke in response. If she’s being honest, Tayce finding the whole thing funny isn’t the worst thing to come out of the whole situation. She’s not annoyed or ignoring her, and at least that’s some form of progress, as ridiculous as it seems.

The four of them walk home full of tipsy, carefree joy, Lawrence’s voice bouncing off the buildings in the streets as she sings Rain On Me and the others all join in with Ariana’s whistle tones. They fill the air with their horrendous, off-key yelling and no doubt awaken everyone who’s unfortunate enough to own a flat on the main road, but none of them care.

Lawrence and Ellie’s arms are still linked, the pair of them leaning into each other as they walk, but Tayce hasn’t afforded A’whora the same affection. Which is fine. They’re not what they were now, whatever the hell they had been. They’re friends, but A’whora isn’t sure that label is meant to make it feel as if a broken shard of glass is getting jammed through her heart every time she uses it.

It’s fine.

Their hands still brush against each other every so often as they walk, though, ghosts of moments when they’d hold hands in bed and Tayce would trace around her fingers silently and intimately. The sporadic contact only seems to amplify the electricity that’s already so present in the atmosphere. A’whora thinks back to the party, talking in the kitchen with the girl who was Tayce’s opposite in every way. She doesn’t know if she’s being deluded when she thinks about Tayce being jealous. She hopes she was, though. Really it’s not like she has any right to be; A’whora can do what she wants with who she wants, and if Tayce wanted her to herself then she should have…

Well. A’whora knows what she should’ve done.

If it hadn’t been for Brooke’s tiny pitbull girlfriend coming in and yelling the place down, A’whora would’ve probably tried to kiss her. Not that she wanted to kiss her. Not that she was even really hugely attracted to her like she is to Tayce. But she’s intoxicated by the idea of Tayce watching her kiss someone else and burning up with regret and hurt, wishing it was her in Brooke’s place. But Tayce clearly hasn’t been bothered by the whole thing, A’whora thinks, as they laugh and quote lines from Tracey Beaker at each other while they walk. She’s not acting as if she’s annoyed at A’whora. She’s acting as if...well, as if they’re friends.

Which is what they agreed. A’whora doesn’t know why she expected anything different.

It takes the four of them five goes at inputting the code on the door to their block, yelling in delight when A’whora manages it and then frantically shushing each other as they ascend the echoey stairwell. It’s Tayce who unlocks the door to their flat and they all stumble in, still giggly and laughing.

“Kitchen afterparty?” Tayce suggests as soon as she’s over the threshold. A’whora’s ready to agree. Pathetically, after everything that’s happened, she’d still always agree to more time with Tayce.

Ellie shakes her head though, and as she pushes the door to her own bedroom open Lawrence moves to linger in its doorway too. “Nah. Too tired. You two have fun though.”

“Speaking of you two having fun,” A’whora jokes, pointing her finger at the two girls and wiggling her eyebrows. She dissolves into giggles as Ellie rolls her eyes and Lawrence’s face turns bright pink, happy she’s managed to get her own back for the endless teasing she and Tayce had to go through at the hands of their flatmates.

“Shut up. We’re gonna watch High School Musical 3, Lawrence hasn’t seen it,” Ellie explains, a look passing between the two girls that A’whora’s endlessly suspicious of.

“Oh, I haven’t seen that either! Can I join?” Tayce says lightly, A’whora smirking at her and seeing the twinkle in her eyes as she realises exactly what she’s trying to do. The question gets the desired reaction: Ellie’s eyes shoot wide open and Lawrence’s jaw drops as she tries to think of an explanation as to why Tayce can’t join in their impromptu, cosy movie night.

Tayce puts them out of their misery a second later. “You know what actually, I think I’ll just head to bed too after all.”

The visible relief on the two girls’ faces makes A’whora stifle a laugh, and as they all say goodnight she catches sight of Ellie taking Lawrence’s hand as the door closes. A’whora’s eyes meet Tayce’s as they’re left on their own, both girls laughing softly at the situation.

“Cute. Good for them,” Tayce smiles gently, before looking at the floor bashfully. “You down, then? Kitchen afterparty?”

A’whora’s stomach twists awkwardly. As tempted as she is and as much as she wants to, she feels as if more alcohol would make the current situation worse, and if they’re going to try to be friends then they need to commit to it. So she shakes her head, watches as something shuts down behind Tayce’s eyes. “I’m gonna get some water and then head to bed. Sorry.”

“Water seems like a good idea,” Tayce shrugs, and as A’whora peels off down the corridor towards their kitchen Tayce follows behind her.

Neither of them bother to turn the light on when they get to the kitchen- filling up a glass and taking a few quick sips doesn’t take a long time- and the light from the hall paired with the glow through the window from the streetlamps outside is just enough to ensure A’whora can see what she’s doing as she takes a glass out of the cupboard overhead and fills it up, glugging at it quickly. She can feel Tayce waiting at the sink behind her, but doesn’t turn to make eye contact. The silence is tense and deafening and awkward. Friendship no longer suits them.

So when A’whora turns around from the sink and Tayce is closer to her than she thought with a sparkle in her eyes, she is immediately struck down with all the feelings she’s tried to suppress. Tayce boxes her in, one hand on the edge of the countertop at either side of her, and as she leans in she’s got a little smirk on her face.

“Tayce, wh-”

“Shhh,” Tayce whispers, before leaning in and kissing her, slow and gentle but with an underlying intensity that makes a heat pool in the pit of A’whora’s stomach. She becomes so caught up in the moment that she almost forgets about everything they’d said, everything they vowed they’d stop doing.

So A’whora pulls away, but the needy whine Tayce gives and the way she moves her hands to rest at her waist makes her have second thoughts. She smiles a little, cocks her head to mock her just a tiny bit. “We said we weren’t doing this again.”

Tayce gives another whine, pushes one of her hands a little higher to rest at A’whora’s ribcage. “I know, it’s a really bad idea.”

Tayce drops her head to rest on A’whora’s shoulder, presses light kisses to her neck that are too much and not enough all at once. A’whora hears herself gasp into the kitchen, already equal parts frustrated and desperate.

“You should probably stop kissing my neck, then,” she breathes out, hissing as Tayce’s lips hit a sensitive spot that doesn’t make the situation any better at all.

“You should probably stop acting like you like it so much,” Tayce smiles against her skin, punctuating her sentence with another kiss before adding, “Or else I wouldn’t do it.”

“Yeah, it’s all my fault, isn’t it?" A’whora giggles, looking to the ceiling in exasperation as she already knows how this is going to end.

It’s fun to let Tayce work for it a little, though.

“All your fault, you bad girl,” Tayce murmurs, pulling away from A’whora’s neck and instead keeping her eyes trained on her as she runs her hands up the sides of her thighs and under her skirt. If Tayce is looking for a reaction then she’s got one, because the feeling of Tayce’s fingers against her skin is filling A’whora’s head with all sorts of memories that’re making it even harder to stick to the rules they both set.

“You looked so good tonight,” Tayce murmurs, her eyes cast down to the floor. The praise makes A’whora’s heart race twenty times harder than it already is. She pouts, brings her own hands to rest at Tayce’s hips.

“I was so pretty, wasn’t I?" she teases, not missing the way Tayce’s eyes flutter closed at her words. She decides to twist the knife a little. “Bet you’re so gutted I wasn’t picking my whole outfit out thinking about you. You can’t stand to see me talking to other girls, that’s why you need to corner me in the kitchen to get a reaction, right?”

“Worked though, didn't it?” Tayce smirks, running one finger along the edge of her underwear and sending a shiver down A’whora’s spine. She’s so determined not to let Tayce win whatever game they’re playing though so she takes one hand off her waist, reaches behind her for the glass of water she’d poured that’s still half full.

“Hasn’t worked yet, we’re just talking,” A’whora smiles smugly, sipping from the glass whilst looking Tayce dead in the eye. She gets met with an equally challenging look, one that makes her squeeze her thighs together.

“Yeah, we didn’t make rules against talking,” Tayce says, bringing one of her hands up to brush a little piece of hair out of A’whora’s face and tuck it behind her ear. The contact makes A’whora’s whole body tingle as Tayce continues speaking. “Didn’t make rules against me telling you how much I want to fuck you against this counter and watch you have to try and be quiet.”

“Tayce!” A’whora laughs in shock, at once annoyed and turned on by the smirk that appears on Tayce’s face. She brings her arms up to circle around Tayce’s neck, pulls her a little closer so they’re pressed up against each other.

“Didn’t make rules against me telling you how all night I’ve been thinking about flipping that skirt up and touching you and feeling how wet you are,” Tayce mutters darkly, pushing her knee in between A’whora’s thighs as if to make her point. A’whora can only bite her lip to stop herself from giving a whimper of a response, because Tayce is busy reducing her to a puddle right in the middle of the kitchen and she can’t give her the satisfaction of appearing needier than she already is.

“Or how much I want to tell you exactly what a perfect angel you are while you’re riding my fingers and begging me for it-”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” A’whora sighs before Tayce’s lips cut her off and they’re kissing again, messy and hot and desperate and everything A’whora’s wanted for weeks. They can’t be friends when they’re so good like this, when they know just what the other likes and wants and needs, and A’whora needs Tayce so much.

Tayce pulls away only to murmur against A’whora’s lips. “Tell me what you want, babe.”

A’whora pulls back a little, taking a little breath of composure as she tries to form her words. “Want you to do all that. Everything you said.”

She can see she’s said the right thing from the way Tayce paws at her waist and slides a hand up the side of one of her thighs. She gives her a funny sort of smile. “Might need to beg me for it a little bit.”

A’whora pouts involuntarily at her words, moves a hand to cup Tayce’s jaw. “Shouldn’t have to beg when I know how much you want me.”

“Hmm. Sounds like something a spoiled brat would say,” Tayce smirks, leaning against her and pushing her thigh a little higher so that A’whora is pressed right up against it. When A’whora grinds down and Tayce’s eyes grow dark it sends a little thrill of delight down every single nerve ending in her body.

Tayce runs her tongue over her bottom lip before she whispers again. “If I didn’t want you like this so badly I’d take you over to those sofas and spank all this bad behaviour out of you.”

“Yeah, you want to watch me put my pretty little ass in the air for you, don’t you?” A’whora murmurs, squirming against Tayce’s thigh again. She can feel herself throb against her and it feels so good, fucking insanely good, but she hopes Tayce is going to give her what she wants sooner rather than later because she doesn’t want to end up coming just from this.

Tayce pulls her in for a kiss again, more frantic than the last, and as their lips crash together A’whora pushes her hands into Tayce’s hair, tugs on it in the hopes it’ll get a reaction out of her. Tayce gasps against her and it elicits a reaction in A’whora that’s so visceral that she bucks her hips again, the friction making her whine.

“Think you need to start begging or else you’re gonna come and I’m not even gonna get to touch you,” Tayce says as she pulls away, biting her lip and raising her eyebrows triumphantly when A’whora hisses out a fuck .

“Please, Tayce,” she swallows her pride and begs, her fingers playing lightly with the straps of Tayce’s top as she hears her hum in consideration.

“Not sure that’s quite enough begging for making me stand and watch you flirt with another girl at that party. Maybe I could just walk away and watch how you react to having nothing to fuck yourself against at all,” Tayce whispers as A’whora rides her thigh needily, but the tone to her voice tells A’whora she’s not anywhere near serious.

“You like watching me get all wound up way too much to do that.”

“I do,” Tayce leans in, rests her forehead against A’whora’s as she tugs her top up from where it’s tucked into the waistband of her skirt and skims her fingers against her bare skin. “I love watching you get exactly what you want, you look so pretty when you want to come. Hair all messed up and biting your lip like such a perfect little mess.”

A’whora feels her stomach flip over and the heat grow between her legs as she begins to get worn down. Her hands drop down to grab Tayce’s ass through her jeans, tries to pull her closer even though there's already hardly any distance between them. “Please, Tayce, want you so much.”

“Just wanna make my princess feel so good,” Tayce pouts mockingly, and it’s almost sinful enough to make A’whora disregard the “my” that Tayce drops in the middle of her sentence. It hurts A’whora’s feelings more than she’d care to admit, so as revenge she gives a self-indulgent shudder against Tayce’s thigh, lets out a moan that’s too loud and makes Tayce’s eyes grow wide.

“The girls are gonna hear,” Tayce warns her, leaning in for three short kisses which she clearly delights in pulling away from each time.

At this point A’whora thinks she’s being driven slowly insane and so she finally lets her pride crumble to the ground, well and truly demolished as she gives a desperate whine. “Fuck, please , baby, please, please, please, need you so much, please.”

Tayce smirks at her triumphantly and tilts her head. “There. That wasn't hard, was it?”

It’s then that A’whora breaks. As she loops her finger around the velvet choker Tayce is wearing and crashes their lips together again she only breaks the kiss to hop up onto the counter, spreading her legs wide and feeling a flutter of anticipation between them as Tayce immediately gets to work, gently trailing her fingers up the inside of her thighs and making A’whora’s mouth drop open. She tugs her lace underwear down so it’s sitting at her knees, rips her top and her bra off and brushes her fingers over her nipples, presses hot, wet open-mouthed kisses over what feels like every inch of bare skin. A’whora is such a panting, incoherent mess that she almost doesn’t notice that Tayce has stepped back a little. When she opens her eyes she can see her sweeping a long, slow glance down her body, her pupils blown and her jaw slack.

“You are a fucking miracle ,” she gasps in awe, and A’whora immediately feels herself growing shy, Tayce’s words making her feel more naked than the fact she’s sitting on their kitchen counter half-dressed. Tayce seems to grow a little reserved as well, maybe picking up on the reaction A’whora’s given her, and when she leans in to kiss her again it’s slow and languid in the same way that honey falls from a spoon.

There’s a pause in the kiss where Tayce hooks her fingers over the waistband of A’whora’s underwear and pulls it off of her completely, leaving her free to trail her fingers up the soft skin on the inside of A’whora’s thigh and make her buck against thin air helplessly. Tayce fans her fingers against her thigh and lazily swipes a thumb over A’whora’s slit, the moan of relief A’whora lets out and the little gasp Tayce gives piercing through the quiet of the kitchen.

“So wet for me,” Tayce breathes out all at once, dropping her lips to her neck and kissing her. There’s a second where she bites and sucks at her skin, making A’whora gasp and giggle guiltily and squirm against her touch. Tayce’s lips are hot against her skin as she continues. “I would be on my fucking knees if I didn’t want to look at your gorgeous face the whole time.”

“Tayce, please,” A’whora begs, bouncing a little on the countertop as she desperately and wordlessly tries to get Tayce’s thumb to circle her clit. She suspects Tayce is being deliberate with the contact; she knows if she holds back then A’whora will just start begging her desperately like she did before.

The little smirk that appears on her face confirms her suspicions. “What is it, baby?”

A’whora grinds down but Tayce only flicks her thumb away, the frustration she feels and the way she’s practically aching in response turning Tayce’s little playful smile into a shit-eating grin. A’whora feels her bottom lip stick itself out and she whines needily. “You know what.”

“Aww. You not able to use your words any more, princess?” Tayce pouts mockingly back at her, and in response A’whora brings her hands up under the hem of Tayce’s top and skates her nails down her back. It seems to have the desired reaction as Tayce pulls her hand away for a second, A’whora subsequently drawing in a deep, shaky breath as she feels Tayce’s fingers slide deep inside her, her thumb rubbing gentle circles against her clit and leaving her feeling so overwhelmed that she tips her head forward to rest on Tayce’s shoulder.

“Fuck, so good,” she whispers, shuddery and breathy against Tayce's neck as she rides her fingers. Going from minimal teasing to having her every need met all at once is rendering her almost speechless but as she straightens up she finds she wants to keep talking if only to see the way Tayce blinks slowly and heavily as she collects herself, the rapid rise and fall of her chest as she watches A’whora become more and more wound up. “So perfect, keep going...fuck…”

“God, I wish you could see what you look like right now,” Tayce hisses, curling her fingers and managing to hit a spot that makes A’whora squeeze her eyes shut and bite down hard on her lip to stop herself from squealing in ecstasy. She keeps her eyes closed as Tayce keeps talking to her, every word making her melt and only intensifying the waves of bliss that are racking her body. “You’re so beautiful, Aurora, oh my God, so, so, so gorgeous...perfect fucking angel…”

A’whora presses a frantic hand to Tayce’s jaw and pulls her in to kiss her again, but they’re unable to make it last all that long when they’re both breathing so heavily and A’whora is rocking so much against Tayce’s fingers it makes her momentarily wonder about how sturdy the countertops in their shithole of a flat actually are. It’s at the point now where A’whora is feeling so soaking wet and overstimulated that she can’t even form a single thought apart from just fuck , so how she manages to form a sentence Christ only knows.

“Missed getting me like this?”

“Like what, baby, a dripping wet desperate mess?” Tayce’s free hand grips her thigh just that little bit tighter in response. “Missed it so fucking much.”

Her words make A’whora shiver with lust, and something inside her curls like a tightly wound spring. She can feel her orgasm building with every passing second but there’s something different about how it usually feels; it’s all far more intense and all-consuming than normal as if every single one of her nerve endings are buzzing in anticipation. She’s completely incapable of speech now, only breathy little moans and needy whines as Tayce keeps whispering into her ear about how perfect she is, how pretty and gorgeous and beautiful, all the while fucking her gently and pulsing her fingers against that spot deep inside her and teasing her clit.

It’s because of her lack of words that A’whora can’t give Tayce much of a warning when suddenly her body seems to leap two levels at once and she’s so dangerously close that all she can do is urgently whisper Tayce’s name before her moans get increasingly louder and louder, her orgasm rips through her, and she swears she comes harder than she’s ever done before in her life. Everything is throbbing so violently that all A’whora can do is let out broken cries into the silent kitchen, completely unable to care about who could hear her. Her orgasm seems to last a few seconds longer than usual and it takes her by surprise, and her body is so racked from it that she needs a couple of seconds to compose herself. She breathes raggedly with her forehead against Tayce’s shoulder, and she can feel the other girl rubbing her back gently with her free hand.

It’s Tayce who speaks first, her voice humoured as she whispers quietly into the silence and slides her fingers out of her slowly and carefully. “Fuckin’ hell, girl. I could feel that.”

A’whora has to take two little breaths before she lifts her head off Tayce’s shoulder and replies with the only word she can form. “Shit.”

Tayce giggles, and it’s so endearing that A’whora feels her heart swell with affection and maybe a little something deeper. She’s barely got time to dwell on it before Tayce locks eyes with her, a little sparkle in them as she takes the same two fingers she’d fucked A’whora with seconds ago and wraps her lips around them, sucking them into her mouth before drawing them out and letting her eyes flutter closed. “You taste so good, fuck.”

At that point, A’whora could've just stayed silent. Or responded with something else. Or just pulled Tayce in for another kiss before returning the favour. But no- she has to ruin it by opening her mouth and saying the first thing that comes into her head, a stupid joke that’s only going to hurt her instead of make her laugh.

“I don’t think that’s something that friends do.”

Tayce’s expression falters and her palms come to rest on A’whora’s thighs. Her gaze is fixed on the floor and there's a small pause before she replies quietly. “Well maybe I don’t want to be friends.”

Every cell in A’whora’s body freezes up and she’s rendered almost motionless at Tayce’s response. She doesn’t even care about how desperate she comes across as she replies almost breathlessly. “What do you want, then?”

Tayce doesn’t meet her eyes. The seconds tick by. Her palms slip off A’whora’s thighs and come to rest at her sides.

“Tayce?”

Tayce takes a step back, casts her gaze to the ceiling this time. She seems to be looking everywhere but at her. A’whora watches her press her lips together, bring her arms up to wrap herself in a hug. The silence grows longer and more ominous, storm clouds hanging over the two of them that are heavy with rain.

And then it dawns on A’whora that what Tayce must be feeling is all-encompassing regret. She regrets it all. Everything she said, everything they just did. She’s dug herself into a hole that she can’t escape from.

So A’whora helps her out of it. The tears flood her eyes as she hops down from the kitchen counter, snatches up her clothes with her face burning from embarrassment, and her hot tears run down her face almost as fast as she dashes back to her room. She’s completely humiliated, and she’s not going to stick around to talk things out.

Tayce doesn’t yell after her, doesn’t come back down the corridor for her, doesn’t stand at her door and knock and ask to be let in. Instead there is only silence and darkness, and all A’whora can do is lie down on her bed and sob into her pillow, trying her hardest not to make a sound but wondering if she's failing even at that.

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winryofresembool · 4 years ago

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Things We Lost in the Fire, ch 31

aka Caleo uni au

Fic summary: Calypso starts studying at a new university, but to her annoyance her new flatmate is a loud mouthed mechanic who also likes to sneak his dog in whenever. But as she learns to know him better, she realizes they might have more in common than what she first thought. Eventually, even the darkest secrets come out…

Chapter summary: At Waystation, pt 4/?

A/N: Soo sorry about the long wait! This was a very long and kind of tricky chapter to write so it took me longer than I would have wanted. But in a way this is (ironically) a good day to post this chapter as it's the Mother's day in many parts of the world today. (Happy Mother’s day Esperanza Valdez ;___;)

Before we head into this chapter, I want to give you guys a warning that it (specifically, the flashback in the beginning of the chapter) talks about what happened to Leo's mother, so in case you find that too hard to read, feel free to skip it. (If you have read HoO, I think you can somewhat guess what to expect)

Thanks for all the amazing support you guys have given me so far! ♥ It's what keeps me going! Now, enjoy, and remember that I'd really like to hear what you think because there's a lot going on in this chapter!

Words: 5550 (yeah, long one)

Genre: romance & hurt/comfort

Warnings: minor character death (talked about), be aware!

previous chapter / AO3

*flashback*

There was fire. So much fire.

Leo had been tinkering with his toy tools and drawing some simple blueprints in the living room when he had remembered that he had left his hammer into his room. He went to look for it and it took him a couple of minutes to locate it from under the unfinished toys and papers he had thrown around. Unfortunately, that couple of minutes had been enough for all hell to break loose in the living room.

He started smelling smoke and ran back downstairs to see where it came from. The wooden floor and several pieces of furniture in the living room were on fire, which seemed to have started from the papers he had left near the fireplace. Leo’s mind went completely blank like a machine that had just been shut down. The only thing that he was capable of thinking was: what do I do?

His mother had put a fire in the fireplace before she had left to run some errands because it had been a cold day. She had warned Leo several times to be careful with it, even putting a bucket of water and a smothering blanket nearby in case of emergency. But it was already too late to use them; the fire had already spread too far in the room. Because of his state of panic, it took Leo a while to manage to make decisions, but finally, his brain told him: get your phone so you can call mom, and run.

What his 8-year-old brain didn’t understand: he should have just left the building right then and asked a neighbor or someone to call the fire department instead. But Leo could only think how the very thing his mother had been worried about just happened and how she’d probably never forgive him for – no matter how accidentally – burning their home. He had vague memories of leaving his cell phone that he had gotten a few months earlier on his birthday into his room, so he ran upstairs as quickly as he could with his short, wobbly legs. However, the phone wasn’t on his desk like he had anticipated, and it took him a while to remember he had thrown it under the bed after getting frustrated with his homework; the words on the textbook they were supposed to read had not made any sense to him.

Once he finally found the cell phone and went back downstairs to leave the building, the fire had already spread so much that he could barely see anything from the smoke. Coughing, he tried to cover his mouth with his shirt so he could protect himself from the smoke and dash to the door, but he soon realized it was not possible. His road was blocked, and the only way for him to get out would be through the upstairs windows.

Leo didn’t have the time to figure out how to open the windows so he ended up breaking his bedroom window with a real hammer that he happened to find nearby. Shaking, breathing heavily and trying to avoid the glass shards, he looked down. The fall would be quite big, at least 5-6 meters, but he was no stranger to broken bones. The fights with other school kids had taught him a thing or two about that. He would still be more likely to survive the fall than trying to go out from downstairs; at least there were no stones or other hard objects under the window. He was so full of adrenaline that he didn’t even notice that his hands were bleeding; they had hit the broken glass when he had peeked out.

Finally, he managed to gain enough courage to climb up the windowsill and lift one of his legs over the edge. In the process he scraped himself some more in the glass and tore his pants a bit as well, but who cared? It was a very minor thing compared to his mother’s face if she’d find him dead in the house. For a moment Leo thought about all the blueprints and devices in development in the basement of the house, how hours and hours of his mother’s work would go to waste if the entire house burned down – but that was a thing to worry about for later. It was already too late to do anything but to try to escape.

With a huge lump in his throat as he imagined how his mother would hate him when she’d find out about the fire, Leo finally lifted his other leg over the edge as well, sitting on the windowsill with his legs hanging in the air. The distance between him and the ground seemed even bigger than it had earlier, but he had to do this. Slowly, he inched himself forward, hesitating a bit more, but the sound of the fire breaking something downstairs startled him and finally, he dropped down.

After that his memories started getting hazy. He fainted when hitting the ground and when he first woke up he noticed the pain in his left ankle and some blood coming from his forehead. He was laying on the grass, not unharmed but at least alive, and suddenly he got aware that he had to get farther from the house because the fire could easily spread to the surrounding grounds. He could only hope that a neighbor or a passerby had already called the fire department because he himself would not be able to do that, not with his dizzy head and the pain everywhere in his body. Before he passed out again, his last thought was: when would his mother be back?

The next time he was conscious, he remembered trying to drag himself forward with his hands. He could not stand up, and not even crawl, so that was the only thing he could do. Inch by inch, he got a bit farther from his falling spot, and by that time he also started hearing some distant sirens and human yells somewhere, but his mind could not comprehend what all of it meant.

After that, the next thing he remembered was being lifted from the ground by a first responder. The man tried to tell him soothing words, probably something like ‘poor child, it will be alright’, but Leo didn’t care. He wished the fogginess of his brain would just fade so he could speak and walk on his own feet and find out what happened to his mother – if she returned yet – but afterwards, he wished he would have never found out.

He kept slipping in and out of consciousness for a while, not really sure what was happening around him, until finally he woke up in the hospital. One of his legs and arms had been plastered and a bandage had been wrapped around his head. Already he wished he could have just ripped them off and run away but he knew that wasn’t possible. A couple of minutes later, a nurse finally arrived at his bedside.

“Oh, good, I’m glad you’re awake,” she said, testing his forehead to see if he had a fever. “You scared us there, young one.”

“It’s not me you should be worried about! Where’s my mom?! Hasn’t anyone told her I am here?” Leo demanded in a hoarse voice.

The nurse ignored his question. “Now, what is your name?”

“Leo Valdez,” he answered grumpily, glaring at the nurse.

“Good. How old are you?” the woman asked then.

“8 years. But how does that have anything to do with anything? I want my mom here!”

“Calm down, Mr. Valdez. We are just doing some routine tests. You hit your head pretty badly. Now, do you remember your home address?”

Leo, despite still feeling quite dizzy, got really angry about the question. “Yes, I do, but it doesn’t matter! There’s probably nothing left of it anymore! Because it burned down!” The tears finally demanded to get out of his system as he added with a tiny voice: “And I don’t know where my mom is.”

The nurse looked very hesitant for a moment. “I, um… You know, I think we are gonna complete this test a bit later. There are some people who have been wanting to see you.” She looked towards the door restlessly.

“Is it mom?” Leo asked instantly.

The nurse just shook her head. “You’ll see soon.”

She let the visitors in and left the room, closing the door behind her. Leo found himself staring at a firefighter, who he vaguely recognized as the same one who had carried him to safety after his fall. With him entered a police officer whom Leo had not seen before. Why would a police officer want to meet him, he wondered. Maybe they’d sentence him to prison for burning the house down?

“It was an accident!” Leo blurted before the men had time to say anything, trying to look brave even though he had just cried.

“We know, we know,” the firefighter tried to calm him down. “That’s not why we are here. We wanted to see how you were doing, and, um…” he looked helplessly at his companion.

“We have some bad news,” the police officer went straight to the topic.

“Is it about the house?” Leo asked.

“No, it’s about your mother… she’s gone.”

It took Leo a moment to register what the police officer had said.

“What?” he yelled.

“I’m sorry, but she is dead.”

Leo couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He was already so panicked that denial was his only coping mechanism left. “Again, what?”

“It is true, young man,” the police officer stated matter-of-factly.

“But she can’t be! She wasn’t even home…!” Leo squeaked, trying to make sense of the situation in his blurry, shocked mind.

The firefighter spoke this time. “I’m so sorry, son… but he’s not lying. We found her in your house. The neighbor who called us had seen her go in before we arrived, and… when we got there… it was already too late.”

“But… but…” Leo had a very hard time getting any words out at that moment. “Why… why would she go in…? And… why didn’t anyone stop her?”

Again the visitors hesitated before answering. “This is just what we heard from a couple of witnesses, but… it seems like she had gone in to… look for you…”

Leo wished the sweet unconsciousness had returned to him in that moment, but that didn’t happen. Instead, it felt like something tried to pull his heart out of his chest. His mind was going through about a hundred different things at the same time: grief, anger, denial… and perhaps above everything else, guilt. It was his fault. It was his fault that the house had burned, and it was his fault that his mother had gone into the burning house. If he had been there to warn her… if she had known… But no, he had had to jump from upstairs to the backyard from where he had been harder to find. And then he had, only half conscious, dragged himself to a nearby trench where the humidity had protected him, being even harder to spot unless you happened to walk right next to it.

That meant that his mother had gone into the house thinking he was there… and she had died thinking he had died. All because he hadn’t listened to her, because he had left some papers on which he had been drawing too near the fireplace.

‘My fault. All my fault’, was all Leo could hear in his head on repeat. He noticed that the firefighter was trying to say something, but he could not register what. Leo didn’t ask him to repeat what he had said. Instead, he stuttered with a weak voice:

“You didn’t answer my other question. Why… didn’t anyone… stop her?”

The police officer sighed sadly. “From what we know, your neighbors had tried to tell her to not go in, that there was nothing she could do, but she refused to listen. The… smoke had already suffocated her by the time we arrived.”

Leo clenched his small fists, unable to focus his gaze anywhere. Everything around him was just a meaningless blur. All of a sudden, nothing mattered to him anymore. With his mother, Leo hadn’t just lost the most important person in his life, the only person who had ever really cared about him and understood him. He had lost his home, his safety, everything that he had loved. More to himself than to the men in the room, he sobbed:

“What's going to happen to me?”

And then everything went blank.

*end flashback*

…

When Leo woke up, he noticed he was breathing very sharply. He had to tell himself to slow it down a bit, trying to focus on the breathing instead of the dream he had just seen. Once he had calmed down a bit, he realized his face was soaked from the tears. The good feeling from the day before was gone, and suddenly he remembered all too well why he hated that holiday so much. His mother had died on Christmas day, 11 years ago.

The worst part about the nightmare he had just seen? It had actually happened. Sure, the details might have changed in Leo’s mind a bit because he had been so young when his mother had died, but most of it was true. The fire, the jumping, the people in the hospital, all true. When he had still been a kid, he had dared to hope that maybe someday the memories would start fading and it wouldn’t hurt so much. But now, 11 years later, he knew better. Thanks to the therapy and Jo, Emmie and the friends’ help, he did have moments when he managed to feel happy, focus on the future and forget the pain for a time being, but when it came back, it was always as intense. And it was especially bad on Christmas days, the anniversary of those horrific events.

‘Pull yourself together’, Leo told himself. ‘This is not what your mother would have wanted for you.’

‘No’, another, the evil voice in his head said. ‘But then again, if it weren’t for you, she would still be here.’

He groaned at himself and decided that it would be better to get himself up and moving rather than lay there listening to the voices. Sitting up, he combed his fingers through his messy hair in an attempt to tame it, with little success. After that, he wiped the tears from his face, trying to pretend it had never happened. Registering the voices coming from the living room, he figured some of his family members were already awake even though it was still rather early. They, especially Georgina, were lucky that they didn’t know what was going through in his head that day; it would have ruined everyone’s Christmas.

Trying to pull himself together and put on a happy face, he got up and washed his face in the bathroom quickly before joining the family. The moment he reached the bottom of the stairs, Georgina ran to him and hugged him.

“Merry Christmas, hermano!”

Leo patted her hair absentmindedly, thinking that Georgina was now only a year older than he had been when… no, he had to stop thinking about it. If not for anyone else’s sake, then Georgina’s. She deserved to have a happy day.

“Merry Christmas to you too, hermanita. Well, did Santa visit? Did he receive my memo on your behavior towards me this year?”

Georgina pulled away from him and folded his arms. “I’m not a little baby anymore; I know Santa doesn’t actually exist. But we did get presents! Even you, although I was kind of surprised about that.”

Leo clutched his shirt. “Ouch, Georgie! I thought you were on my side!”

The siblings continued bickering playfully as they waited for the others. They had a tradition in their house that everyone needed to be there for the present opening. Soon Josephine appeared with a tray full of coffee cups, gingerbread cookies and certain small pies she used to bake every Christmas.

“Where are the others?” Georgina asked impatiently as she started stuffing the cookies into her mouth and drummed her legs against the sofa. “I want to open the presents already!”

“Calm down, Georgie,” Jo scolded her. “Emmie is checking the cats and dogs because they also need care on Christmas day, and Calypso may still be sleeping.”

“Ugh, I told her I wanna start opening the presents early!” Georgina protested. “I’ll go wake her up if she isn’t here in 10 minutes!”

“You’ll wake who up?” Calypso showed up from the stairway. Hearing her voice and seeing her face, Leo forgot for a moment why he had been so upset earlier. Somehow her presence just had that weird effect on him. She was wearing a green holiday sweater knitted by Annabeth over her pajamas – pink with some small flower prints – and her hair was flying freely, slightly wavy because of the braids that Georgie had insisted on making the previous evening. Somehow even that casual look made her look adorable in his eyes and his throat felt dry for entirely different reasons than a few minutes earlier. Leo almost missed Calypso’s next words due to his distraction. “Sorry that you had to wait, Georgina. I was finishing up one last present because I wasn’t entirely happy with it.”

“No worries!” Georgina exclaimed. Apparently the last minute gift preparing was a good enough reason to be late in her books, because Leo knew that if he had been late for the gift opening, the little girl wouldn’t have forgiven that easily.

Calypso put her pile of neatly packed presents under the tree to wait and turned to the others.

“So, merry Christmas, everyone! If I am allowed to be honest with you, I don’t really know a lot about Christmas traditions… My family never celebrated it… But I want to learn!”

“We’ll teach you,” Georgina told her immediately. “It’s gonna be so much fun, you’ll see!”

Leo wished he himself could have been as enthusiastic about the holiday as Georgina was, but tried to keep the happy face on anyway.

“Cal, try some of those pies before Georgie has eaten them all.” He pointed to the tray Jo had brought. Calypso glanced at him suspiciously for a moment. “Don’t give me that look; I swear I didn’t make them. It’s all Jo and Emmie.”

“Fine,” Calypso agreed and took a bite. “This is really good!” she exclaimed once her mouth was empty.

“Told you. Now do you trust me?” Leo asked her teasingly.

“Hmmm. That’s still to be determined,” Calypso replied, but Leo could see her smile into her piece of pie.

As everyone waited for Emmie to return inside, they kept up a light banter as they ate their Christmas breakfast in the living room. Even Leo did his best to participate in it, and soon he did feel a bit better, although if someone had looked at him more closely, they would have noticed the smile on his face didn’t reach his eyes.

Finally, Emmie arrived together with Festus and Georgina instantly pulled her towards the Christmas tree so they could start the gift sharing. A grin spread across Leo’s face as well when he watched the little girl run back and forth as she delivered the packages to their rightful owners. This was now, he tried to remind himself. What happened in the past… was in the past and his mother would probably have wanted him to enjoy these moments.

Not that he’d ever know that for sure, the nasty voice in Leo’s head said again, and the grin almost disappeared from his face.

To no one’s surprise, Georgina got the most presents because even some family friends and neighbors had sent her something (that’s what happened when she got everyone wrapped around her finger, Leo thought), but everyone else got their fair share of self made gifts as well. Leo noticed that Calypso had three packages; one from him, one from Georgina who had insisted on making her own present, and one from Jo and Emmie. He found himself wishing she’d like what he had made; he had spent quite a lot of time on it.

Before anyone could start ripping their wrapping papers off the presents, Festus was given some treats so he wouldn’t interrupt the gift opening too much. Georgina got the privilege of getting to open hers first. She chuckled at Leo’s jokes in the photo album, which Leo took as a success, and squealed excitedly at the tiny dragon toy he had carved from wood and painted. Calypso had sewed her a detailed gryphon plushie, because Leo had told her that Georgina had recently gotten interested in the mythical creatures, a topic Calypso knew a lot about. The little girl hugged the plushie enthusiastically while Calypso promised her to tell her more about the Greek mythology later when they’d have more time. Emmie gave Georgie a tiny beginning of a plant that she’d get to raise on her own, and Jo, the practical person that she was, gave her a pocket knife for tinkering with a warning that she’d only get to use it under her supervision.

Leo and Calypso allowed Jo and Emmie to open their presents next. It was mostly practical stuff, like woolly socks, self made chocolate, and new tools (which broke the ‘homemade’ rule but Leo knew Jo needed them), but Leo had also tinkered frames for a photo of the Waystation family and asked Calypso to decorate it with her paints. The final result looked pretty good in his opinion.

Next was Calypso’s turn. Georgina had attempted to crochet a potholder for her because Leo had guiltily admitted that he may have accidentally ruined one of Calypso’s potholders while cooking something. However, since she was still a beginner in the handicrafts, the potholder had some room for improvement, but Leo could see from Calypso’s happy face that she appreciated the gesture. Leo had also told his mothers that Calypso really loved her flowers, so they gave her a white orchid in a pot that Jo had once crafted. Finally, she opened the gift Leo had made for her. He was biting his lip and tapping his fingers nervously even though he tried to act nonchalant as he watched Calypso’s reaction. Before she removed the paper, she knocked on the surface of the gift, trying to guess what was in it.

“Is this a tool box? So you could borrow mine when you lose yours?” She teased.

“Well, at least that would be useful, don’t you think? But hold your horses; it’s probably not what you think it is,” Leo hinted. Calypso gave him a quizzical look and Leo took that as a sign that she really had no idea what the gift was.

“I guess there’s only one way to find out,” she noted and started carefully removing the paper. Unlike Georgina, she made sure that the paper would still be usable on some later occasion. Calypso wasn’t entirely wrong with her guess; the gift was indeed a box of sorts. But it wasn’t for tools. Instead, it was a jewelry box; wooden, self made, painted rose pink, which happened to be Calypso’s favorite color. When she opened it, she noticed a small mirror on the lid with some text on it. The box also played one of those few songs that they both happened to like. Calypso traced her finger on the smooth surface of the box for a moment before she noticed that there was still something more in the box: a silvery bracelet with a letter C hanging from it. She took it into her hands and admired it for a moment before reading aloud the text that had been written on the mirror:

“You can’t start the next chapter of your life if you keep rereading the last one.”

“Um, yeah…” Leo was unsure how he should respond. Suddenly he got worried he had been too straightforward with that message, and Calypso wouldn’t appreciate it. “It was a quote, um, that I happened to stumble upon somewhere recently… But I thought it was quite fitting?”

Calypso looked at him straight into the eyes and for a moment Leo managed to forget that there were others in the room. It was as if she was trying to message him wordlessly that she understood the meaning of the quote.

“Yes, I think it works,” she replied slowly. “For both of us.”

Leo felt his ears getting heated and attempted to comb his hair over them with his fingers to not make it so painfully obvious. Given what day it was, he understood that it was ironic he was using that quote when he himself was struggling to let go from his past.

“True,” he had to admit, looking at the others nervously from the corner of his eye. “It’s… it’s something that we both should try to remember. Something we have in common, right?”

Calypso seemed to accept his explanation. “Right. Um, this box is really beautiful. You’ve seen a lot of trouble with it. The music and all… It’s really nice. Did you even make this bracelet?”

Even though Leo should have prepared himself for that question, he felt embarrassed to reveal the bracelet’s origins, afraid it might sound too sentimental. He rubbed the back of his neck and cleared his throat to get more time to consider his answer.

“The… the chain was from an old bracelet my mom had… My biological mom, I mean. I didn’t get to keep a lot of her belongings but this had survived… and my dear aunt didn’t want to keep it so I’ve been carrying it around as a charm of some sort. But the thing is, I don’t really need it so it was Jo’s suggestion that I could give it to someone who’d use it. She helped me make this,” he showed the C, “because I don’t really…”

“Want to forge anything,” Calypso finished for him. “Yeah. I understand.”

“Good. If you don’t like it, you can give it to someone else; I’m sure my mom wouldn’t mind…”

Calypso gave him an encouraging smile. “Oh, no! This bracelet meant a lot to you so it means a lot to me. It’s a really nice gesture, Leo.”

“You’re welcome?” he replied, kind of flustered by her reaction.

Calypso fiddled with the gift for a moment before turning her attention back to Leo.

“Would you like to put this on my wrist? I’d like to see how it fits.”

“Oh… alright!” Leo agreed, wishing he could say something that didn’t make him sound like a complete idiot. But then again, he reminded himself, wasn’t that what most people thought of him? And since when had he cared?

Calypso handed the bracelet to him and Leo took a very light hold of her wrist, as if afraid that he’d burn her skin with his hot fingers. He was so focused on his task that he even forgot that it was technically against the ‘rules’ they had set, but Calypso had initiated it so who was he to deny her request? He put the chain around her wrist with fumbling fingers and closed the lock. After that he allowed his hand to stay around hers a moment longer. He swiped the surface of the chain with his finger, also touching the back of her hand by accident (or maybe on purpose). Calypso looked up from their hands to him with a surprisingly soft expression that he hadn’t seen since that day when they had promised each other to try harder to be ‘just friends’. His brain sent sparks through his spine and he felt very warm all of a sudden.

“I… um… it seems to fit, doesn’t it?” he finally stuttered, looking down at the bracelet, Calypso’s gaze still lingering in his mind. He let her wrist go and already his hand felt much colder, as if it was missing something.

“Oh, yeah,” Calypso nodded, absentmindedly fiddling with the chain of the bracelet. “It’s small enough that it won’t fall but it’s not too small.”

“Good,” Leo said, a smile returning to his face. “Guess you’re just as tiny as my mom was.” He finally managed to bring out his more playful side.

“Have you looked into the mirror lately, Mister Super-Sized McShizzle? You’re not exactly a giant yourself,” Calypso teased back.

Georgina giggled at her response. “You tell him, Calie!”

“This Georgina here, though,” Leo grinned at her, “she must really have some giant blood in her. She uses my overalls in the garage sometimes!”

“I do not,” Georgina denied quickly. “They’re stinky.”

“Yeah? And you smell like flowers and rainbows,” Leo retorted and started tickling the little girl.

For a moment Leo was able to forget that he hated Christmas as he played with Georgina, but then someone reminded him that he still had to open his own presents. He looked at the pile he had gotten and thought briefly that he had gotten more of them than what he had expected. Georgina had drawn him a picture of him with Festus and sewed him a simple pencil case for his blueprint pencils. Jason and Piper had gotten him a book about weird mechanics facts. Percy had sent him a new orange t-shirt so Leo could return him the one that he had once borrowed after a workout (which, according to Percy, was ‘way too big for him anyway’). Leo’s moms had made him an awesome tool case where even the bigger tools would fit and baked some of his favorite goodies. Finally, it was the turn for Calypso’s present, though.

“What do you think it is?” Calypso asked, glancing at him curiously.

“My first guess would have been a pack of olives because you know how much I love those things… But this doesn’t feel like them. It’s mostly soft but there are some hard parts too. Maybe a bit like a backpack?"

“That wasn’t a half bad guess,” Calypso responded. “But I won’t tell you the correct answer; you can figure it out on your own.” She invited Leo to open the present.

“Okie, Sunshine, will do.”

He ripped the paper (which was Leo’s favorite shade of red) off notably less gracefully than Calypso had done with her presents, but his mouth opened involuntarily when he saw what was inside. It was a toolbelt, not looking like one of those belts that broke in his use after the first couple of days (Leo had a habit to load them too full sometimes), but sturdy, well made. Leo wondered where she had obtained the leather she had used in it, and hoped that it hadn’t cost her too much money. The belt had four different sized pockets for the tools and it seemed like one of them had something in it, but before Leo checked what was inside, he turned to Calypso:

“How did you know I needed one of these?”

“Probably because you’ve been carrying wrenches and stuff in your jean pockets and I’ve also seen your room and that’s enough for me to be able to tell you need a place for your tools,” Calypso smirked. Leo barely heard her answer. He didn’t want to admit aloud that one of the reasons why he was suddenly feeling so sentimental about a tool belt was because it reminded him a lot of the one his mom had made for him when he was a kid. “I hope this wasn’t too much trouble…” He noted more quietly than usual.

“It was not trouble at all,” Calypso reassured him. “I have sewed more difficult things. The leather was actually from one of my old bags that my dad got for me – which I hated – so I didn’t even have to buy a lot of the materials. Besides, you yourself made this,” she knocked the wooden cover of the jewelry box, “and I bet it was a lot more difficult.”

“Nah, it wasn’t…” Leo tried to protest and he noticed the others in the room had a hard time keeping their faces straight as they listened to the flatmates competing whose present had taken more time. “The music was probably the most complicated part.”

“Okay,” Calypso said, deciding to leave the debate there. “Hey, I forgot to mention that there is something small in one of the pockets. You could check it out now.”

“Alright, I will,” Leo told her. He reached out to the said pocket and found a small box from it. His smile instantly disappeared from his face when he realized what it was. Everyone went quiet for a while as they were waiting for his reaction.

“Why would you give me matches, especially today of all days?” He lifted his gaze from the box, his eyes sparkling angrily. Before anyone could say anything, he threw the box away and jumped up from his seat. Calypso’s sad face was the last thing he saw before storming out of the room.

#caleo #leo valdez #calypso #heroes of olympus #percy jackson and the olympians #trials of apollo #my fics #caleo uni au #finally this fic is living up to its name

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sparklingchan · 5 years ago

Text

Sun and Stars | Johnny Suh (NCT 127)

Pairing : Reader (fem.) X Johnny

Word count : 10k+

Warnings: A few cuss words here and there , gets a little suggestive towards the end. Not proof read sorry

Genre : Fluff,angst,romance , friends to lovers au ,college au.

Description: Johnny has no idea that you are head over heels for him - you intend to keep it that way.

A/N: I’ve been working on this fic for around a week now and I am sooo happy to finally be able to publish it (Johnny in a college au makes me feel a type of way ngl) This is the first time I’ve ever written a fic with more than 3k words so I’m not sure how its turned out so anyone who reads the entire thing,know that i am so,so grateful to you .

Also shoutout to my best friend @chogiwow for helping me out with writing and desrcibing and everything else. LY <3

Enjoy!

Johnny Suh has a habit of biting his nails when he is nervous, you have noticed , his eyes focused on whatever is directly in front of him and his leg fidgeting up and down continuously.

You have seen him look nervous on many occasions before - like the day of exams, sneaking alcohol to on campus events , group discussions with professors - but nothing will ever top the way he looks right now ; like he's standing on the edge of a bridge, ready to bungee jump.

"I told Professor Yun to give us at least a month and a half to organize everything properly but that man just plain refuses to listen to me because I bunked his class once !" Mark Lee has a big mouth ,that's public knowledge, but when he continues to pace inside the empty auditorium, you find yourself getting irritated at his non- stop comments .

"Has anyone else tried to talk to Yun about the extension of the date ? Someone who doesn't bunk his classes? " Lia asks, her arms crossed in front of her chest. You have seen your roommate look serious before but right now she looks almost as if she's about to go on a killing spree.

"Didn't y/n go to him yesterday? I remember seeing her near the staff room with him. " Johnny points out and suddenly all eyes are on you.

Your cheeks flush at the mention of your name from his mouth. //

The tense atmosphere in the auditorium was already making you uncomfortable enough but now , with the unwanted spotlight on you , you feel as if your body has been squeezed into a car's trunk.

"Umm.." you stutter,playing with hem of your oversized Linkin Park t-shirt, "yes. I did talk to him but he said no to me too. He didn't even let me explain our situation."

Mark groans loudly, his head between his hands. "We are so doomed. The authorities are going to remove me from the position of the president of the student body! I can feel it coming."

"I don't know about anyone else but I enjoy my position as the vice president of the student body council. And I am not going to give it up because you shitheads were too lazy to get things done quickly." Ryujin says , her eyes flaming with fury.

She's been running after all the student body members to start working on the upcoming inter college sport events for a whole week now . It's not her fault that the other members are starting to realize the urgency of the situation just two weeks prior to the event.( including the president, Mark Lee). She has the right to be angry.

"Okay ,everyone calm down. " You say, reluctantly,not wanting to be the centre of attention. You lick your dry lips before beginning to speak again, "We've wasted enough time worrying and talking okay? Let's go over the list of duties assigned and we can resume working again. "

"We just have two weeks, y/n. There's still so much left to do. We've barely started yet. " Ryujin whines, placing her head on Jungwoo's shoulder as he tries to shake her off.

"I know but if we work hard for say even ten days,we can get things done. We can stay back after college gets over and work and then rest on weekends. Exams are not arriving anytime soon either. "

"I agree with y/n. The event is next to next Monday so if we do overtime then we can still pull it off,despite everything." Johnny agrees , looking over at you with a charming smile. But instead of returning the smile, you look away ,cheeks tinted red.

Have you always been this nervous around him or does it have something to do with the sudden glow up he has had over the summer break? You don't know.

"Fine. Okay." Mark speaks out, "Jungwoo, can you go over the duties once again? And if possible take a picture of it and send it on our group chat. "

Nodding to Mark, Jungwoo takes out a sheet of paper from his pocket and starts reading it out. "So um... Mark and I are working on sending out invitations and collecting names of participants on the day of the event. Ryujin and Yuna are leading the decorating team. Lia,Taeyong and Johnny are working on the food stalls area and the packaging of free snacks for the participants. Jaehyun , Haechan and Doyoung are on the sound team for the DJ show after the events are over and lastly,Yeji, Chaeryong, y/n ,Yuta and Taeil are participating in the events so they will be busy with practice but we do expect them to manage the things overall and help us after class. "

Jungwoo looks out of breath after speaking for so long ,his chest heaving with each breath and his shoulders slumped.

"Okay, guys that will be all. Remember to do your jobs in your free periods and stay back after college." Ryujin says, clasping her hands together to symbolize the dismissal of today's student body meeting( more like a group stress out session).

You pick up your books and swing your bag across your shoulders while Ryujin pokes Jungwoo's cheeks with the sole purpose of annoying him but he flicks her fingers right away.

As you reach the exit of the auditorium, laughing at the bickering duo beside you and your hands reaching out to open the door , you see Johnny jogging up to you hastily and pushing the door open before you could.

"Ladies first." he says as he gestures for you to walk out , a sweet smile plastered on his lips.

Your heart hammers against your chest.

"Thank you." You murmur , avoiding his gaze as you walk out of the comfortable, air conditioned auditorium and into the scorching hot campus of your college.

You've always been this nervous around him, you realize, ever since you guys met in the first year of college - despite being a part of the same friend circle.

And how could you not? There are no books, no tutorials, no classes to teach you how to behave in front of your crush.

The student apartments are a good thirty minutes away from the college campus, and with the increasing velocity of Lia's car, your desire to flop down on your soft, cozy bed increases too.

"Yo ,anyone up for a girls night out tomorrow night? " Ryujin asks from the passenger's seat,not looking up from her phone. You see her fingers scrolling through the various new resto bars in town.

"Count me in. I am bored of eating Yeji's horrible food. " Chaeryong replies ,earning a punch from Yeji.

"If you're so good at cooking ,why don't you get your ass out of bed and cook?" Yeji spits back,rolling her eyes.

You laugh at your flatmates' childish tactics.

"Anyway, I'm in too." Yeji sighs, resting her head on your shoulder,sleepily.

"Yeah, me too!" Yuna chimes in.

"What about you ,Lia?" Ryujin asks her friend in the driver's seat.

Lia narrows her eyes at the road in front of her ,but you know for sure her mind is going over the pros and cons of going out tomorrow night. You've been her roommate for three years now ; you know her basically like the back of your own hand.

"I guess so,yeah." Lia says , changing the gear and turning over the corner into your appartment street.

"Okay ,that makes five out of six. Y/n?" Ryujin looks back at you , her pleading eyes drilling into yours.

As much as you want to relax and go out tomorrow night ,you have a busy schedule. Swimming practice for the sport events in the morning ,classes throughout the day, helping out with the organization and a study date with Yuta late at night. You are packed tomorrow.

That and you didn't want to get drunk on a week day.

"I'm sorry guys,I don't think I'll make it. I promised Yuta I'd study with him. " you say . Your flatmates groan out loud,throwing you dirty looks for ditching them for a stupid study date.

"Why does Yuta want to study with you anyway ? Your majors are like poles apart." Yuna mumbles.

Frankly, you didn't know why he wanted to study with you either. You were a computer science engineering student and his major was performing arts. But it's been a tradition between you two for quite a while now. Maybe you've gotten used to comfortable silence with him when you study , like music playing in background, not loud enough to distract you but loud enough to help you focus.

"Maybe it's not a study date with Yuta after all. Maybe it's just an excuse to see his roommate,right ,y/n?" Yeji teases ,nudging your ribs with her elbows.

You blush for the nth time today. "No. I'm going to have a normal study session with my best friend. Can y'all please not make everything about Johnny?" You huff.

You regret telling them about your fat ass crush on Johnny that one eventful night when you had so much alcohol that you couldn't even recognize your friends' faces as they carried you home. You should have just had apple juice or something.

Thankfully before the conversation could go on further , Lia pulls over in front of your apartment and you sigh in relief. "Yayy Home!" Ryujin chimes with fake enthusiasm as everyone gets down from the car.

Your shared bedroom with Lia is a little smaller than the bedroom that Yeji, Ryujin and Chaeryong share but you've never had a problem with that. It's cute and warm and it reminds you of your room in your parents' house .

"I'll shower first." Lia declares as she grabs her towel and walks straight into the bathroom. You sigh,too tired to compete with her for a bath. You drop on your bed, nuzzling your face into the soft pillow ,feet dangling by the edge of your bed.

And by the time Yeji walks into your room to ask what you want for dinner, you are already passed out ,with the image of Johnny's breathtakingly gorgeous grin on your mind.

Have you ever watched those cheesy rom com movies where the male lead lives in a dorm with five other boys and their rooms are so clean you wouldn't find a single piece of clothing out of place?

Well, reality is a bit different from that.

You stand in front of Yuta's apartment door which he shares with Johnny , Mark, Taeyong and Taeil , after your flatmates drop you off and make their way for their night out . You shiver as the cool night air kisses your bare arms and you can only hope someone let's you into the apartment before you freeze to death.

"Oh,hey y/n! " Taeil opens door with a welcoming smile , gesturing you to walk inside.

"Hi, Taeil. Took you guys long enough. " you say shivering , narrowing your eyes at the boy in front of you.

The smell of burnt pancakes hits your nose the moment Taeil locks the door behind you and your gaze immediately shifts to the kitchen where Mark and Taeyong are trying to desperately save some burnt pancakes.

"Well can you blame me? " Taeil shrugs , eyeing the two boys .

"Figured. " You say as you make your way towards Yuta 's bedroom . You hear Mark and Taeyong yell a few ' Hi's ' and 'wassup's ' in your direction and you reply to them without looking back at their sorry faces.

Yuta's ( and Johnny's) room is like a second home for you. You don't often hang out here but there's a homely feeling in the warm colored curtains and the smell of Johnny's favorite perfume and Yuta's anime posters.

"Wrong room. Johnny is in the other room." Yuta comments when you enter the room and you throw your notes at him,earning a fake groan in response.

You sit on the edge of his chair , putting out your books and notes on his study table, while he sits in a far corner of his bed , his study material spread out in front of him.

Studying with Yuta is always turns out to be productive for you. You both rarely talk while studying , your minds completley immersed in the hastily written notes and the only sound in the room being the scratching of pens against paper.

Maybe this was one of the many reasons why you preferred to study with him in his room (and totally not beacuse of Johnny who you are yet to meet).

After two and a half hours of being knee deep into your books ,you finally slam the books shut and stretch your limbs,relief flushing over you after looking at the many topics you covered tonight. You mentally pat yourself in the back.

"You done?" Yuta asks when he sees you scrolling through your phone, humming a song you'd heard on radio the other night.

You nod,not looking up at him.

He's about to add something when you hear the sound of shuffling feet outside the door , followed by a series of soft knocks. There is only one man in this apartment who could knock on a door as tenderly as that.

"What do you want ,dickwad?" Yuta yells as he falls onto his pillows. You glare at him. He's taking away your chances of seeing Johnny tonight. "Y/n is busy!"

Johnny peeks in through the door , his jet black hair messy and damp as if he'd just walked out of a shower. He wears a grey hoodie and a pair of black sweatpants yet he manages to look like he'd walked straight out of a sportswear advertisement. God really has his favorites, doesn't he?

"Hey, y/n. " he says ,completely ignoring Yuta's less than appropriate remarks. You feel a warm feeling spread in your entire body , adrenaline coursing through your veins. He sends a soft smile in your direction , his eyes turning into crescent moons ,and it is enough to make you feel weak in the knees.

"Hi, Johnny. " you manage to reply and smile back , unlike most days.

Johnny's heart leaps at your response ,not expecting you to be any different from other days when you would reply his enthusiastic greetings with a cold shoulder. Guess today is his lucky day.

"I didn't mean to disturb you guys ,sorry. I just wanted to know if you'd like to have dinner with us. We're getting Sushi. " he asks ,rubbing the back of his neck.

Your eyes fall on the sunflower tattoo on his forearm and you have this sudden urge to wrap your arms around his slim waist and bury your face in his chest.

"Yes,sure,I guess. " you say with a slight chuckle.

"Aren't you gonna ask me,too ,Johnny?" Yuta chimes in ,pouting and batting his eyes at him. Johnny rolls his eyes.

"Shut the fuck up ,Nakamoto. " he huffs.

Johnny looks over at you again and in a tone very different from the one he just used on Yuta, he asks, "Are you okay with sushi? We can order something else if you want."

"Oh,I love sushi! Don't worry about it. "

Lies. You hate sushi more than anything else in the entire universe.

The sushi is a lot more digestible today than those million times when Jaehyun and Yuta took you out to eat (forcefully) sushi.

It still doesn't suit your taste buds but you could eat it without wanting to throw up,thanks to the company you have .

You and Johnny sit face to face on the dining table while Yuta sits beside Johnny and Taeil ,Mark and Taeyong are in front of the television, watching a game of football.

"Hmm..this is really so good." Yuta exclaims as he takes the last piece and stuffs it inside his mouth . Fat ass.

"I know right. How are you liking it, y/n?" Johnny asks , his eyes shifting to you. You feel as if you're melting under his gaze. As if his eyes were the sun and you were ice.

"It's good. Really good. " you reply with a chuckle, forcing the last piece down your throat with a sip of water.

An achievement.

You hear Yuta's phone go off ,vibrating in his pockets along with that annoying ringtone of his.

"Yeah,what?" He speaks into the phone. You figure out it's one of his classmates by the careless tone of his voice.

"What the fuck? Are you serious?" Yuta screams , his voice now laced with urgency. His eyes widen, "We have a class test tomorrow? How did I not know about this?"

You look over at your panic stricken best friend and so does Johnny . Your gazes meet and the two of you burst into giggles.

Yuta rolls his eyes at the both of you but doesn't say anything. He gets up from his seat ,his phone still attached to his ear.

"Johnny,my dude,please walk my best friend home. I can't trust the others. Please. " Yuta says to Johnny and disappears off to his room , and you know for sure that he's going to cram his notes till the next morning.

Yuta's words lingers in the air between you and Johnny and you find a sudden interest in the hem of the table cloth in front of you. You rub the cloth between your thumb and forefinger ,the muslin cloth's soft texture distracting you from Johnny's intimidating gaze.

"So,um..when would you like to go back home?" He asks , not being able to muster up the courage to look into your eyes.

You chuckle- you didn't mean to but the bubbling laughter erupted from your throat and reached your lips before you could even stop it.

"Why? Do you want me out of your abode so bad? " you tease.

You never tease Johnny. You never even joke around with him. You don't smile at him ,you don't chuckle at him. Yet here we are.

You were being very brave today and you hated to admit it , but you liked it.

Johnny's eyes widen at your unexpected response as you once again surprise him by not giving him a cold, careless response. His heart does a backflip.

You have your lips curved up in a smile and your eyes focused on him.

This feels like a dream, to both of you.

"No, no ,of course not. You can stay for as long as you like." He replies nervously.

You shake your head with a soft giggle, " Thank you for the offer but it's very late now. All of us have a busy day tomorrow so we should get going now. "

The night air is cooler now than it had been when you arrived at the boys apartment and you regret not wearing warmer clothes.

Johnny walks along with you on the sidewalk, his eyes drifting to look over you once in a while. He carries your bag in his because he insisted that a lady shouldn't have to carry so many things when he's right there.

"Why do you never talk to me unless I talk to you first? " Johnny asks in a small voice after a few minutes of leaving their apartment.

Your body stiffens at the question, your mind desperately trying to come up with a proper reply. You want to answer him , with all honesty , that you can't do many things that you want to because of your never ending fears. You want to go bungee jumping but you're afraid of heights , you want to talk to him first but you're afraid he won't share the same enthusiasm as you.

You were afraid of attachments and afraid of the unknown, both of which were complete opposites of the other.

"That's not true." You reply,trying to laugh it off.

He looks at you with sorrowful eyes, not quite returning your laugh. You feel your heart clench.

"Have I done anything to offend you ,y/n? If yes ,then please let me know because I really care about you and I would hate to disappoint you. " he says.

The streets are quite and calm and for a moment, it is only you and Johnny in this vast universe - his beautiful black eyes and your warm cheeks , his tousled hair and your nervous hands.

"No ,you haven't disappointed me. It's just...that we're in a big friend circle and it's not possible to ,you know ,be close with everyone. "

That is a pathetic excuse, y/n, you tell yourself.

His lips curve up in a small smile now, the worried wrinkles from the corner of his eyes disappearing.

"We can be, y /n. Of course we can. Shall we start from now on then?" He replies , enthusiastically, thrusting his hand in your direction.

Your heart thumps at a speed faster than the speed of light as you decide whether or not to shake his perfectly shaped, veiny,soft hand.

You're afraid of attachments.

But you're also madly in love with Johnny Suh.

You take his hand.

It is late in the evening at your college and you know for sure that you'll be bashed the moment you step into the auditorium .

After classes got over ,you had promised Lia that you'd help with the food stalls allotation and decoration but you ended up staying back with your swim team ,discussing strategies for the final competition day , hence causing your delay.

You look over at Johnny who stands outside the auditorium door , helping the decorating team with some posters and flyers.

"Mark is mad." he says when he sees you rushing towards the door, struggling with all the books and posters and ribbons in your hands.

You sigh, " I know, goddamn it."

He opens the door without saying anything and walks behind you into the auditorium, much to your surprise.

You see Mark standing by the stage , letting out frustrated noises and pointing at random decorations which didn't need fixing but according to him they did. Oh , boy,was he mad.

"Mark, " you jog towards him, trying to get a proper hold of things you are carrying before you find a table to dump them on.

"Gosh,y/n! You are an hour and a half late! We have so much to do and only ten days are left!" He yells at you,pointing at his wrist watch.

You squeeze your eyes shut to lessen the impact of his annoyingly loud voice.

"I know, I know. I'm sorry. I was with the team and well..we lost track of time. I'm so sorry again ,okay? I'll get to work right now. " you say,standing in front of the angry,tiny man in front of you.

You arch your back, trying to hold on to the things in your arms without letting anything fall onto the ground. You had one too many things to carry and sadly only two hands.

"I'll get that for you." You feel two hands grab your things from behind,the arms going over your shoulders and taking the chart papers and ribbons from your hold.

And you don't even have to look back to know that it is Johnny. You have him memorised by heart - from the color of his eyes to the softness of his fingertips, from his soothing, honey like voice to his smell. He's like a book you've read a fair amount of times yet ,you never seem to get tired of it.

"Thank you. " you manage to reply through the loud sound of your heartbeat and gushing of blood in your ears.

You almost miss the warmth of his body when he walks away to put your things on the table .

You know what , " Mark starts. He looks like he's about to throw up. On you. "Just get back to work. Ew. Fuck. Y'all really getting handsy in front of my innocent eyes."

You look at him with wide eyes. "Hey, we were not - "

And if Ryujin had not interrupted you at that moment, you'd have beaten the hell out Mark Lee ; not because he had accused you of doing something you didn't do but because he had triggered a part of your imagination you didn't even know you had.

It is on the same night that Yeji makes you sit on the auditorium floor and color the huge college logo they had been outlining since the morning , while half of the squad goes out to buy some cheap dinner and cold drinks and the other half is working outside the auditorium.

"I can't believe you are leaving me alone in this huge auditorium. " you mutter when Yeji jogs towards the door to join the others. So much for being friends since childhood.

"We'll be back in fifteen to twenty minutes, y/n. " she replies. " or do you want me to call Johnny to keep you company in this huge ,empty auditorium?"

You roll your eyes at her,hoping she's joking about it. But apparently not because within two minutes , you see Johnny walking up towards you.

His presence as if automatically puts a smile on your face ,like flipping on a light switch. You usually tense up on seeing him but from the last few days, things have been different, better even.

"Woah,this looks so cool." He says as he sits across from you, a pen and notepad in his hands. He smiles at you with so much sincerity that it takes everything in you to not throw yourself at him and press a kiss to his dimples.

"I know. But I'm afraid my poor coloring skills are going to ruin it. " you comment. You dip the brush in your hands into the bowl of water sitting beside you.

"I'm sure it'll be good. It looks good already." He replies, his voice laced with fascination. You giggle at his words , as you stretch your hands and back, groaning from all the pent up tension in your joints. Something you wouldn't have dared to do in front of him a few weeks ago.

Johnny laughs. " I can help you if you want . You can rest till the others come back. " You don't even think twice before agreeing.

As long as he's near you , it doesn't matter.

He comes up to sit by your side ,grabbing the paint brush and starting to fill colors into the blank spaces. With his eyes focused on the picture , you sit back and take in the view in front of you. The long sleeves of his tshirt are rolled upto the elbow, exposing the veins on his forearm. There is dirt and dust on his pants from all the work he's been doing today and then your eyes fall on his face, absorbing the handsome features god had bestowed him with. You notice a few strands of longer hair falling over his forehead, covering his eyes as he struggles to remove them with his non dominant hand. And before you can stop yourself , your fingers find their way to his forehead, pushing his hair away softly.

"Thanks,y/n." He says with a shy smile, the undeniable shine in his eyes almost makes you see a ray of hope - that Johnny Suh might be harboring the same feelings for you that you do for him. Your heart swells with excitement.

And without even realizing it, you feel yourself find comfort in his warm presence.

Your middle school maths teacher had once told you that time passes in the blink of an eye when there's an imminent danger at the end of the line and truly so ,the next few days fly pass by like wind and you soon find yourself running from place to place to make sure all finishing touches are done.

"Did you check out the pool areas and basketball bleachers? " Jaehyun asks, as you two make your way to the auditorium where Mark and Ryunin were to hold a last group meeting before tomorrow's big day. "Yeah. I did. Twice." You reply, stressing on the last word. Jaehyun heaves a tired sigh and you two turn a corner to walk toward the auditorium.

Your heart rate picks up when you see a familiar face standing in front of the door, leaning against a pillar. And you find your lips automatically stretching into a smile. "What is he doing outside ? Is the meeting over? " Jaehyun asks when he notices Johnny.

You shrug , "Don't know."

Oh,but you do know why he's outside ; this has now become an unsaid tradition between you two to wait for the other during group meetings. Johnny didn't acknowledge it,neither did you, but it was there, as distinct as Mark Lee's voice.

He sees you and his face breaks into a grin, his cheeks flushed and heart racing just like yours. And it makes the light at the end of the tunnel shine brighter.

"Is the meeting over yet?" Jaehyun asks Johnny, you following close behind.

"No,not even started." Johnny replies and then turns to you, his eyes burning into yours. " And Y/n and I have been instructed to buy tonight's dinner so we I'll borrow her for a while."

Your eyes widen at the new information but you see Jaehyun shrug and walk inside as if it weren't a big deal - but it was, you will be out alone with Johnny and it was making you feel sick , in a good way.

"Shall we get going?" He asks you ,cocking his eyebrows playfully.

You nod ,trying to hide your red cheeks. And he sees them.

You've been into his car only a a few times , most of which you don't remember because either you were too drunk or too sleepy to register what was happening around you. This is the first time you are actually inside his car,mind and body, sitting in the passenger's seat and taking in Johnny's smell that lingers in every corner of the car.

You notice how tidy the car looks,the clean seats and windows, no extra tissues lying here and there, no money receipts crushed into seat pockets, his car is everything Lia's isn't. The drive to the convenient store is short and silent - except for a few glances you both steal at each other without the other knowing.

"What should we get? Instant noodles or something else?" He asks you as you two look around the different aisles, walking close together that you didn't even realise your shoulder was pressed to his arm till he stopped abruptly in front of the fridge.

You clear your throat, "Let's get instant noodles. That's what they eat always anyway."

He nods and you grab enough instant noodles and drinks for your entire squad and soon find yourself back in the car with him.

You settle yourself into the seat as he climbs into the driver's seat,looking apparently angry, his eyebrows knitted and mouth turned into a frown.

"What's wrong? " you ask him ,concerned.

He looks over at you , with a small, guilty smile on his lips. He shakes his head , "Nothing. It's a ridiculous thought I had suddenly. "

"Come on ,tell me ." You whine , hitting his arm softly, "I'm sure its not a ridiculous thought. "

His smile widens but he doesn't answer ,instead he just leans toward you, Your faces just inches apart. If you were nervous before now you are completely sure you're about to lose your mind. You had imagined these scenarios in your head many times before ,but if truth be told, it feels way better in real life. The close proximity of your bodies , mixed breathings and his intense eyes staring at you like you're his favorite pizza, like you're a sunday morning after a very tiring week , like you're a beautiful flower in the middle of a field of weeds.

"W-what?" You stutter nervously. He chuckles , stretching his hand out to reach for the seatbelt and pull it across your body and then locks it tightly.

"It is a very , very ridiculous thought,y/n." he whispers. He is still leaning so close to you and you know for sure that if you weren't sitting already ,your knees would have given up below you.

"I'm sure it's not." You mumble but you're not sure if he hears you.

When you reach the auditorium, you find your friends sprawled on the floor, some playing with their phones and some having a mid college existential crisis.

"Guys,we're back. " Johnny announces enthusiastically as he runs towards the group, all of their faces lighting up when they see the food your hands.

But you feel far away from them, like you are there but your heart is not,like your heart has been left behind in Johnny's car,covered in his scent and his intoxicating gaze.

"Y/n, why do you look like you've seen a ghost? " Lia points out that night , lying on her bed with her blanket wrapped around her body. You shrug and let out a fake ass shit giggle, "No, I'm just nervous...for tomorrow, you know."

"Don't be. I'm sure you'll do great and even if you don't, we have an after party to wash all your sorrows away. " she says with an excited smile.

"Oh wow,that's great. " you reply with another fake chuckle.

Oh wow, you'll have to be around Johnny the whole day tomorrow. You are not sure if you are ready to see him yet.

Lia narrows her eyes at you but let's it slip,and you're thankful for that ,for you wouldn't know what to tell her when she insists on knowing your thoughts.

Could anyone blame you though, you'd had an almost moment with your crush. How could anyone expect you to be okay right now?

The weather prediction for today was sunny with a few clouds , but if only anyone could have prepared you for what you were going to see the moment you stepped into the college campus.

You'd felt jealous before , no lie there. You remember the time you saw Johnny hanging out with Yeri, one of your juniors, and laughing with her like there's no tomorrow and you had never wanted to annihilate a human so bad . You hate being jealous. You hate the burning of your heart in your chest ,the accumulation of sweat on your palms, the warm,angry breaths you push out from your nostrils.

"Who is that?" You sound like a bad , jealous female character from a drama when you ask that question but you cannot help yourself anymore. Not when you see a girl from another college running into your Johnny's arms ,giggling like a little girl .

"I-I honestly don't know. He never told us about any girl ." Taeyong says as he looks at your exasperated expression and then at Johnny's excited face. Taeyong is almost angry at Johnny for hurting his friend.

"Yea,he only ever talked about you ." Jaehyun adds from beside you.

But it didn't seem like that from where you stood. You see Johnny wrap his arm around the girl and crush her in his embrace, just how he'd crushed your heart into a million pieces. Something as fragile and previous as your heart and he decided to play with it? Why did he act all nice and sweet to you when he already had another woman in his life? Why did he give you hope only to leave you in the dark?

"Come on , y/n. Don't overthink about it. I'm sure she's just a friend." Taeyong says ,softly tugging at your arm to move you away from that scene.

Taeyong and Jaehyun, in reality, were shocked too. They had never heard Johnny talk about any girl in that way but you. They were sure one day or other,you'd end up together. They were as surprised (and disappointed) as you were.

"Has he ever told you that he liked me? Even once?" Your voice cracks as you feel your eyes fill with tears. "Maybe she's not just a friend. "

Jaehyun rubs your back comfortingly, worried about how he'll have to handle Yuta when he finds out Johnny broke his best friend's heart. Gosh,its going to be a world war.

"He has never openly said anything about liking you ,but he did talk about you a lot. Even until yesterday...we were sure he liked you,dude." Taeyong says .

You shake your head, "If he did like me ,he'd have told you guys. He doesn't and that's the end of it."

And although it shatters your ego , you look away from the pair and walk toward the swimming pool complex where your team awaits you.

When you enter the pool area, Taeyong and Jaehyun immediately run toward the audience to be with the others.

And you find your gang-sans Johnny- waving at you from the audience as you walk up to the registration desk and put in your name.

Your heart feels so heavy ,like those dumbbells that Yuta uses ,but a thousand times more heavier. You have no desire or energy to swim anymore. You just want to lie in bed and cry your heart out.

But sadly you didn't have much of an option..

"Good luck, y/l/n. Go easy on the opponents." Your coach tells you with a chuckle. You force a smile as you nod. Talk about overestimating one's skills.

You enter the changing room and quickly strip off all your clothes ,leaving you in your tight Speedo swimsuit . You tie your hair in a ponytail and are about to head out when someone bumps into you ,quite roughly to be frank.

"Watch out ,girl,jeez. " you mutter to her,rubbing your sides.

The jealousy from a few minutes ago comes back but this time not in the form of drizzle, this time it's a whole storm.

It's the same girl from before, the one with Johnny.

"I'm so sorry. " the girl says ,looking back at you with an apologetic look.

She's pretty,you realize. Long black hair and a mole under her eye ,she looks like she could be a model in training somewhere. Long eyelashes , a slim waist and perfectly smooth looking skin ,she has everything you ever wanted ,including Johnny Suh. She's pretty ,prettier than you at least.

"What's your name?" You don't want to know that name ,yet those words spill out of your mouth.

"I'm Joy. From the performing arts college." She thrusts her hand towards you for a handshake. " and you?"

"I'm y/n. " you reply ,the frown on your lips never once leaving .

"You're swimming too ,right? It's going to be great!" She says.

"Yeah,its going to be really great. " you take her hand.

You can't have Johnny ,but at least you can have the trophy.

The four basic stroke races get over within the first one hour of the competition and needless to say ,by the time the relay race was announced , you had three gold medals already in your possession.

"Relax your body." Your coach tells your team of girls while you stand in line,ready for the relay race to begin. "Y/n, since you're going last , put in all your energy. We need to win this last round to get the grand trophy."

Directly in front of you, you see your two other teammates stand and stretch their arms by the pool’s edge , their faces bright with a hint of excitement and nervousness. Beside them ,you see Joy and her other pretty friend getting for the race too. With her tight red swimsuit and perfectly done forearm tattoo , she has everyone's attention on her. And you bet that everyone in the audience was rooting for her.

You nod at your coach's words while he turns around to speak with your partner as you once again look at your new mortal enemy, your teeth gritting unconsciously and your gaze turning more into a glare.

"Yayyy!!! Y/n,let's get it!" You hear your friends cheer from and you giggle for the first since this stupid day began. Mark ,Yuta and Taeyong are cheering for you on top of their lungs while the girls are holding posters with your name written on them . You wonder when they had the time to make them. And the rest of the guys are clapping their hands like there's no tomorrow.

Everyone except Johnny.

He sits in between Mark and Haechan, his eyes practically glued to your frame and your eyes meet his for an annoyingly long second, he smiles at you and mouths 'best of luck .'

You look away from him ,your body burning with rage. So now he's going to pretend to know you? Or maybe he wasn't waving at you at all,maybe he is just looking at Joy and your self absorbed mind assumed that he was looking at you? Possibilities are infinite but time is not; time is very precious.

"You guys have to win okay?" You hear the coach say one last time , before patting you on your heads and walking away.

Somewhere behind you ,you hear a stand by whistle go off and your team mates on the opposite side immediately walk up on the platform.

"On your marks."

Thump.

"Get , set."

Thump.

"Go!"

The race starts off pretty smoothly, your teammate cutting through the water as if this is everything she'd ever known ,her speed unmatched with anyone else's. And when she reaches your side,your partner immediately jumps off into the water , the steady speed still maintained.

The next few seconds pass fleet away in the blink of an eye and soon your turn comes up ,you realize, as you climb up to the platform ,bending over to take a diving position.

And when your body hits the water ,you feel all the anger ,rage, sadness, envy being channeled into strength and energy. Your body moves against the waves like that it what it was meant to be doing ; not running, not walking but swimming.

Your ears block out all noises around you,your mind focusing on nothing but the finish line.

And the very second your hand touches the wall on the opposite side , your body relaxes and your head pops out of the water like a cork. The audience erupts into claps and cheers and whistles and your name being repeated on everyone's tongue.

Panting and smiling and fist pumping together at the same time is tiring but you do it anyway.

After all,you'd just won your team the swimming trophy.

You feel a little light headed but it doesn't affect you at all ; you had proven yourself in front of your friends and teachers once again .

Johnny and His lovely Joy can go eat shit for all you care. ( you do care about Johnny , you're just being stupid rn)

"I'm so proud of you , baby !" Ryujin helps you up from the pool while the other girls engulf you in a hug ,not minding the fact that your entire body is dripping wet with the chlorinated pool water.

The guys arrive shortly after and Yuta presses a loving kiss on your head, "Congratulations, bitch."

But amongst the crowd of people surrounding you, the pats on your back and side hugs,the happy faces congratulating you, you feel almost empty. Like something was missing. Like the last piece of an almost completed puzzle .

Your eyes scan the people around you , looking for none other than Johnny and when you finally spot him, your heart breaks even more as if it already wasn't completely smashed into tiny pieces .

Joy has tears of failure running down her face and Johnny brushes them away with his thumbs, her head finding a comfortable place on his shoulders.

You'd always wondered what it must feel like to be in such an intimate situation with Johnny. You had wanted to experience it ,first hand , but by the looks of it, that might never happen.

Beacuse you winning the competition is not more important than Joy losing it.

Beacuse you are not more important than Joy.

"What do you mean you don't want to go to the after party? " Yuta has been hanging out with Mark way too much, you think. His voice is almost,if not more, as loud and annoying as Mark's now.

"I don't feel very good. Can you please drop me home? Then you guys can go and have fun." You reply, not quite looking at your best friend. You're afraid he'd be able to read through you , just how he always does.

"This is not about you , is it? It's about Johnny. Taeyong and Jaehyun told me." There he goes.

"Think whatever you want. I just want to be alone for a while, please." You say.

He pauses the music playing in the car, tugging at the sleeve of your tshirt.

The image of Johnny and Joy flash in your mind ,still fresh even though it happened a almost five hours ago. You remember how tenderly Johnny had held her and how lovingly Joy had stared at him.

“I really thought he liked me ,you know. I don’t even blame him right now. I should have known better than to get attached,break my oath of forever maintaining distance from him. “ you speak in a hoarse voice, the lump in your throat growing painfully.

Yuta stares at you for a few seconds,then shakes his head with his eyes on the car dashboard, “Its not your fault either, y/n. All of us thought he liked you too.”

You see Yuta take out the keys from his pocket and the pretty,yellow flower keychain attached with it.Johnny had given him that on his last birthday,you recall.

Your eyes drift to various places in the car, from the blue heart sticker on the mirror, to the bills stacked into the pockets, the empty cold drink bottles and the smell of lavender spray in the air, everything reminds you of the man you were trying so hard not to think about.

You start softly crying.

"Y/n, goddamnit, you won the completion! You are our swimming champion. And you helped us organize this event too. You're today's star. Would you really let that asshole ruin it?" Yuta demands,passing over a tissue to you.

The words ' that asshole ' stick with you , stinging your heart which was still in love with Johnny but you don’t say anything. Yuta was only trying to make you feel better.

Not earning a reply from you,he groans,"I don't care what you want ,y/n. We're going to the after party at Haechan's family farm house and staying there tonight. That's Final. " he declares , turning the key and you hear the car engine revving.

"I'll cry if I see him. " you pout,sniffing.

"Don't worry, if he makes you cry,I'll kill him.." Yuta replies as you drive off to Haechan's farm house.

The entire drive, your mind keeps playing the moments you were trying so hard to forget and you hated it. So,so much. You felt like a prisoner in your own mind.

Yesterday night , in the car,when Johnny leaned down towards you, you could have sworn that he was in love with you.

But now, not as much.

You wonder if Joy had felt special when he comforted her ,because you sure as hell would have. You would have held him like the earth was ending today and he was only thing that could keep you alive.

"We're here. " Yuta announces as you pull over in front of the huge mansion just a little away from your college campus.

You have been here many times before so the beauty of the house doesn't baffle you anymore but your eyes do go wide in realization of how rich Haechan's family really is. Every damn time.

As you step out of the car , your sneakers squeaking against the ground beneath you, you can already hear the loud music coming from the lawn and the smell of barbecued food and alcohol makes you almost want to enjoy the party.

"You're late,y/n!" A very drunk Doyoung walks towards you ,Taeil waddling behind him with two glasses of vodka shots in his hands.

"I know I'm sorry. I hope I didn't miss much." you say ,slightly embarrassed at the fact that you almost skipped the party.

They both hug you tightly as you wince from the strong smell of alcohol, "Congratulations ,sweetheart!" Taeil slurs while Doyoung sings, " we are the champion ~" on the top of his lungs.

"Gosh,yeah,thanks guys." you push their intoxicated bodies away with Yuta's help and make your way towards the lawn where your friends sit around a bonfire , dancing ,singing ,talking ,having the time of their lives. You find yourself smiling a little on seeing at their happy faces. Your eyes roam around the group until they find Johnny , eating roasted marshmallows from a small plate and your first instinct is almost to say ' hi ' but you remember Joy and how painfully sweet they were with each other and you revert your eyes from him the moment he looks in your direction. Your heart paces rapidly, yearning for his attention but you know you wouldn't get it ,no matter what, so you walk inside the house, into the kitchen to grab something for yourself.

"That piece of shit Yeji burnt the meat." Chaeryong complains to you as she volunteers to fill your plate with food. You wonder how many more such swimming competitions you'd have to win for your friends to be this generous with you everyday. "Thank god Taeil saved it before he got horribly drunk." , she adds.

You giggle a little.

All of a sudden, you feel a tap on your shoulder and when you turn around , you are filled with dread. But you’d be lying if you said you didn’t expect this.

" Hey,y/n. Congratulations on winning the trophy!" Johnny says with a bright smile.

As if you give two shits about it, you find yourself thinking for a split second. You look up at the tall man towering over you,smiling like he didn't butcher your heart earlier. He wears a warm grey hoodie with his favorite and probably only pair of blue jeans. His hair is slicked backwards ,exposing the forehead you'd often wait so eagerly to see. His signature cologne makes you feel weak , and if you weren't sober ,you knew things would have gone down pretty quick.

But you can't be rude to him - you could never be rude to him even if you wanted to.

"Thanks." You mutter in a small voice,taking the plate from Chaeryong.

Johnny furrows his eyebrows at your dull reaction and then eyes Chaeryong as if to ask what happened. She shrugs and awkwardly walks away from you two.

Brilliant. Now you have to face Johhny alone.

"Is something wrong,y/n?" He asks ,his concerned voice sending shivers down your body.

You shake your head, "No. Why do you ask?" You look around the place to look for your best friend. Where's he when you need him the most?

Johnny leans over closer to you. "You were ignoring me during the competition but I shrugged it off. And now you're acting like that again. " he says ,his breath fanning for against the side of your face, "I must have done something. "

You want to push him away but as shameless as it sounds , you were enjoying this attention he was giving you and even more than that, you were enjoying how physically close he was to you.

But it didn't mean you would forgive him. Or Joy for that matter.

"Why should you care," you chuckle sarcastically , "I'm not Joy. So don't bother."

Change of mind - maybe you could be rude to him if you tried really,really hard.

His face twists in further confusion.

" How do you know her? And why is she in this conversation again?" He asks,now softly pushing you against the kitchen counter , his hands on either side of you. He has you trapped ,literally.

You sigh, trying to hide the burning of your cheeks and the drying of your throat. You can't let your guard down. "I saw you...with her in the morning. Hugging, staring at each other like you saw the galaxy in each other's eyes. " you huff , your heart heavy from the pain that memory brings.

Johnny laughs , a deep, genuine laughter,erupting from his throat fills the kitchen. You feel like you were walking in the same tunnel again, Johnny waiting for you at the end with a source of light in his hands.

"Are you perhaps ," he leans in closer to your face, just like last night in the car ,"jealous?"

Of course you were jealous. You had always been jealous of anyone who was privileged enough to enjoy Johnny's extremely pleasant company ,especially in your absence.

" No. " Liar.

He presses his lips together in a line ,as if trying to suppress a smile.

"Then why are you turning red like a tomato?" He asks.

You turn your face away from him ,trying to move away from his grasp but he gently puts his index finger under your chin and makes you look at him.

"Y/n, Joy is my cousin." he says. Guilt punches you in the stomach like your stomach were a punching bag and the guilt was a boxer,strong and determined. You feel the blood pulsating in your ears ,in your throat ,in your temples. "I am not dating her or seeing her or whatever you think I'm doing with her. "

You look down at your feet but he makes you look at him again "I'm sorry." You mutter

"Do you remember last night I told you I had some useless thoughts?" He asks you ,his right hand now wrapping around your waist.

You nod your head ,the shame and guilt of falsely accusing him and Joy of something they never did not allowing you to look directly into his eyes.

"This is what I wanted to do. " he pulls your chin closer ,as you stand on your tip toes. Your faces were just so close ,you could feel his lips brush past yours, "May I?" He breathes.

You only find a small whisper to reply him with, "Yes. "

The feeling of his lips pressing against yours was something even your imagination couldn't have prepared you for. His soft, tender touch mixed with the urgency of the kiss made it feel even more surreal than it already was. Your noses glide against each other as he presses you closer and closer till there was no ' closer ' left. He held you firmly by the waist and your hands found their way around his neck as you depended the kiss,your tongues touching and breaths matching each other. You could feel the taste of the marshmallows from earlier and your stomach feels all giddy and excited.

And by the time you both pull away, you are panting, struggling to catch your breath as he supports your body against the counter.

"I like you ,y/n. I always have. I just didn't know how to approach you. " he says , brushing a few hair strands away from your forehead, "And I'm so sorry for making you upset today."

You giggle a little, confused whether to reply to his confession or accept his apology.

You decide to do both. " I like you ,too,Johnny Suh. So much. " you lean your forehead on his ," and it's fine. You didn't mean to make me feel bad ,I was being paranoid. I'm sorry too. "

Johnny pulls away to look at you ,his swollen lips curved into a heartwarming smile.

"I bet you looked cute while being jealous." He says , pecking your nose softly.

You don't reply ; instead you stare at his eyes, your heart pumping out these overwhelming emotions that you couldn't quite understand yet but liked it nevertheless. Your eyes shine like the sky on a cloudless night,making his knees feel like jelly and butterflies erupting in his stomach. At that moment , you realise that it was your eyes wherein he found his galaxy , his sun and stars - not Joy, not any other woman - it was always been you.

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alstroemeria-black · 4 years ago

Text

Lovely Plants

Read on AO3

Summary: Lily's plant grows until James' balcony. She stops by to ask them to drop the creeper down. Of course James doesn't want to do that. They talk. They're meeting each other. Muggle Neighbours AU. They're awkward and cute.

The news about the arrival of the new residents of the apartment spread among the already existing ones like wildfire. It wasn’t too long before it reached Lily Evans and her flatmate Marlene McKinnon. Now, Lily wasn’t too interested in the affairs of who came when and where and why but Marlene definitely was. That was the only reason why Lily listened as Marlene went on about the new residents, mind you. She wasn’t interested that much. Not even slightly. Really.

It’s a family of three – a mother, a father and their only son. He had a couple of friends that popped by then and now. They own a dog with a name Marlene forgot, they’re all quite amicable, and the friends are funny. That was all Lily knew about the Potters as she stood in front of their door ready to ring the bell.

Now Lily wasn’t one of those people that invited themselves over to their neighbours houses as and when they pleased for a cup of tea or a quick chat. If you’ve come across people such as that, my deepest and most sincere regards and well wishes for your kind heart that didn’t do anything rash. If you did something rash now that’s a story I’d like to hear someday. Now back to Lily.

No, Lily wasn’t one of them. Lily hoped she didn’t come across as one of them. She was only a little anxious. Just a little bit. Maybe slightly more. She had lost count of how many times she had considered going back home. But there was no point now for as she had rung the bell and heard its ringing and heard the door open and it did open.

In front of her stood a slightly short, slightly stout woman who had dark black hair with hints of grey peeking in between. She had an inviting smile plastered across her face and seemed genuinely excited upon Lily’s arrival. The thought of that seemed to calm Lily’s nerves and she didn’t feel too anxious about meeting these new people. The kind woman gestured her into the flat and Lily obliged.

The apartment was an exact replica of hers, except it looked newer and much more elegant. Lily’s flat was an aesthetically pleasing mess of flowers, books and clothes. This place was exactly like those houses on the interior design portfolios she had tossed aside on grounds of expense.

“It won’t be too long before you begin resenting this place,” said the woman. “I say you take a good look now.”

“Sorry Ma’am,” said Lily quite highly embarrassed now. All the anxiety that left seemed to surge through her body once more. “I’m here only to-”

“Ah no, dear,” said the woman moving to capture Lily’s hands in hers. “I mean to say that it won’t be too long before my son and his friends make a complete mess out of this home. I’m going to miss how pretty it looks now.”

“Oh,” said Lily calming down a little bit. The woman gave an amiable laugh and Lily followed.

“I’ll get you some sweets,” she announced. “Come on in.”

“No, Ma’am,” Lily began.

“Yes, Euphemia,” said Lily.

“What is it that brings you here?” Euphemia asked as she emptied the contents of a sweet box onto a silver plate. Lily tried to protest over the amount of sweets that had been laid out on the plate but decided against it. “Not that you are not welcome dear. I believe I still don’t know your name?”

“Lily,” she said. “Lily Evans. Thank you for having me. It isn’t too much but it’s just that I live downstairs and I grow plants. One of my plants, a creeper, found its way through my grills and reached the telephone wires. From my balcony it now reaches yours. If you don’t mind, I’d be grateful if you could just untwine the tendrils and drop it down. I’ll make sure my plants don’t trouble you again.”

Euphemia listened and once Lily was finished, she just looked at her simply.

“I can do it myself too if you’d like that,” Lily began to offer when Euphemia seemed to think it through.

“I don’t think there will be any need for that,” said a voice from behind.

There stood, Lily reckoned, the son. Lily didn’t think he was cute, or handsome, or good-looking. She most definitely did not think that he was all three. Her heart did not leap a little more than necessary when being frightened and interrupted all of a sudden. Really.

“My son,” clarified Euphemia a proud smile on her face. “James.”

“Hello,” said James grinning at Lily. “If you don’t mind, can I say something?”

Lily nodded for as she did not trust her mouth to say anything clever at the moment and things wouldn’t be too good for her if she said things she shouldn’t be saying in front of the Mother. Now you see, Lily is a clever child and I hope you learn from her. She doesn’t say anything if she thinks it might land her in trouble.

“I think the plants make our entire building look beautiful,” he said and looked at Euphemia who nodded her encouragement. “Wouldn’t it be lovely if the creeper ran over from the balcony of the first floor to the one on the second floor?”

“It certainly would,” said Euphemia enthusiastically.

“I agree,” said Lily hesitantly. “The third-floor residents aren’t too fond of plants. They chopped my tulips from the garden last month.”

“How about,” began James who seemed to be actually thinking through this entire ordeal as though it were of huge importance to him. That made him a tad bit adorable, didn’t it? Lily thought so too.

“How about we have it come over our balcony grills,” he said finally once again looking over to his mother who nodded her approval. “And it can look like a dome you know. A dome of creepers.”

He drew rectangles and squares and waves in the air. Lily understood and hoped she hid her smile well.

“I think that works, yes,” she assured looking over at Euphemia. “That would be lovely. Thank you.”

“I take it not everyone in this building like plants?” asks Euphemia and Lily nods.

“I’m glad you understood. They’re quite close to my heart,” says Lily proudly. “I would’ve pulled off the tendrils before they reached too high but it somehow didn’t cross my mind. I’m sorry for the trouble.”

“Not at all,” said Euphemia placing a hand on Lily’s shoulder and it suddenly reminded her of home, and mother. She wants to say that out loud.

“And besides, they make our balcony look beautiful. I see more purple flowers growing towards our home than yours,” says James. She wants to tell him that he’s kind and that he’s adorable.

“I’ll make a move then,” she says instead. “I must be heading home.”

“You can have a look at how the tendrils are looking from here,” he offers.

"Sure, I'd love that," says Lily and he gestures for her to follow him. Lily turns to look over at Euphemia who has a smile on her face and busies herself with an empty bowl.

Lily didn't need telling where the balcony was but still followed him on into the balcony. Her plant had creeped its way across the telephone wire until the first few grills near her feet. She looked at James offering him a smile which he returned.

"My mother loves plants but isn't the very best at caring for them," he states followed by a chuckle as he runs his hands through his black hair.

Now, Lily doesn't think he has handsome hair. She really doesn't. You would, honestly you would if you met him but Lily didn't. Really.

"I can help with that," offers Lily. "I'd love to have someone to share the sentiment with. My bestmate, who stays with me - Marlene, isn't too fond of plants too."

"Ah," says James in understanding. "I belive I've met her. Lovely woman."

"That she is," says Lily in admiration. "I must leave."

"You're lovely too," he says suddenly just as she leaves the balcony door.

Lily looks at him questioningly.

"No, no," he stutters and straightens his glasses and runs his hands through his hair all followed by the other.

You may have guessed so. Lily definitely does not find this admirable.

"I mean to say," he begins. "You are lovely, you really are and -"

Lily being the kind soul that she is, something she doesn't realise too much by herself, puts him out of his position of discomfort and awkwardness.

"I understand. You're lovely too," she says. "I'll see you soon then, Potter."

"Lovely," he says grinning, cheeks flushed from embarrasment.

"Lovely," she confirms with a smile before she leaves.

As for Euphemia, she pretends to be attending a phone call as Lily leaves so Lily waves her hand and moves out. Lily tells Marlene every thing in detail and Marlene is squealing and teasing Lily ruthlessly throughout the entire day. James' friends visit that day and Lily knows so because of all the noise they're making together and really, it should be annoying her but it really didn't. He may be adorable, just a little bit. Only a little. Really.

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musicprincess1990 · 5 years ago

Note

2 & 15 for the trope duos please! :))

Taken from this prompt list (still accepting, always accepting!)

I AM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG!! The last few weeks have been hell, between my dad getting sick and my job being stressful, I’ve been hard-pressed to find any motivation. But! You’re not here to read my sob story, you’re here for some tropey goodness! Pre-series AU, Sherlock’s slightly OOC, but it’s AU, so it works. Happy reading!

Molly cringed as a roar thundered from the room below hers, followed by a resounding thud, which she guessed was someone’s foot colliding violently with the nearest wall. That someone being her temporary flatmate, Sherlock Holmes.

With her new position at Bart’s, she finally had the funds to have a flat all her own, and was supposed to have moved into a nice little spot over a week ago. Unfortunately, the building had been very suddenly condemned, leaving her homeless until she could find a new place. She made do with kipping on Meena’s sofa, but with her friend’s frequent visitors (particularly those of the male variety), she had a feeling her welcome would soon wear out.

One morning, while having lunch in the canteen, she’d been absently scrolling through listings online, when a familiar voice interrupted her perusal.

“I would recommend steering well clear of Southall Green,” he said, startling her into dropping her fork on the table. He ignored this, and went on, “I know the landlord, an old schoolmate of mine. I also know he charges exorbitant fees from his tenants under the guise of a homeowners association, but in fact uses the money to fuel his gambling addiction. Can’t prove it yet, of course, but I will eventually.”

She swallowed the bite of pasta she’d taken before he’d turned up. “Oh, well… thanks for the tip.”

He nodded, appearing satisfied she’d taken his advice, but remained where he stood, watching her with a curious expression. Just as Molly was about to ask if he needed anything, he spoke again. “Incidentally, I’ve recently moved into a new flat myself, and there is an extra room…”

Molly’s jaw dropped. “Are… are you saying…?”

“Obviously, it would be temporary, until you find a new place of your own, but the location is rather ideal. Baker Street, just a few minutes’ cab ride away. And should I need access to a body for one of the Yard’s cases, it would be convenient to have you just upstairs.”

Of course, it was all about his convenience. Nevertheless, Molly felt a blush forming beneath her cheeks, and a swarm of butterflies in her belly. There was no denying her attraction to him—really, just look at the man!—and he was right, it was much closer to work than the condemned flat would have been. That combined with the subtle arch of one eyebrow over his mercurial eyes… well, there really was no hope of refusal.

“Well… if you’re sure, that-that would be… fine. Great, actually... thank you, Sherlock.”

He smiled briefly. “I’ll text you the address, feel free to move your things in whenever is convenient.” Sherlock glanced at his phone, then offered another smile. “Sorry, must be off, missing persons case, rather high-profile. I’ll leave your key with the landlady.” And with that, he swept off in his usual, dramatic fashion, leaving her in her usual, befuddled state.

In the week since then, life at Baker Street had been fairly quiet. In fact, Molly had seen Sherlock only twice since she’d moved in. She knew he came home at some point each day, the odd used cup added to the sink full of unwashed dishes proving he at least took tea now and again. She supposed he tended to come in after she’d gone to bed, and left each day before she woke. She’d seen him in passing while she visited with Mrs. Hudson, their delightful landlady, acknowledging them both with a smile before reaching into one of the cupboards and swiping a handful of ginger nuts. Mrs. Hudson scolded him, but made no further efforts to stop him, leading Molly to believe she was already quite fond of her new tenant.

The second time she’d seen him was perhaps an hour ago. It was her day off, and she’d spent most of the morning lazing about, but the aforementioned sink full of dishes demanded emptying, and put a brief hold on her lazing. She had just finished, and was about to settle into the new, comfortable-looking chair by the fire, when Sherlock pounded his way up the stairs, storming into the room and throwing himself onto the sofa. He scowled at the ceiling, either ignoring her or oblivious to her presence. Something about the look on his face told her not to try and make conversation, so she quietly made her way up the stairs, in order to give him some privacy.

A second thud yanked her from her thoughts, and Molly bit her lip in concern, mingled with annoyance. Really, did he have to behave so childishly? But her concern won out, propelling her down the stairs and back into the sitting room. She peered in from the doorway in time to see a cricket ball soar across the room and make contact with the wall behind the sofa. Ah, so not his foot then, she thought absently, watching the ball ricochet and land with a plop on one of the cushions.

“Molly,” Sherlock muttered grumpily by way of greeting.

“Bad day, was it?” she asked.

“I’m fine.” He produced another cricket ball—just how many did he have?—and gave it a violent toss, producing the same result. She counted four remaining on the sofa, and glanced back at him in time to see him reach into a box for yet another.

“Did you have a row with the wall?” she quipped.

Thud. “Don’t make jokes, Molly.”

“Well, something must have happened for you to abuse it like this.”

He paused mid-throw and scowled at her. “Is there a point to this conversation?”

“Well...” she floundered, her reticent nature pushing her to retreat.

“Spare me,” he cut her off, and threw his sixth cricket ball, which seemed to be the last, as he picked up the box and refilled it with the balls that had settled on the sofa. “There is nothing wrong with me. I did not have a bad day, I simply... want to practice. Never know when a good throwing arm might come in handy.”

“Bollocks,” she blurted without thinking, and his eyes shot up to meet hers. “I-I mean...” she stammered, but then, from somewhere deep within her, a burst of courage found its way up. “I don’t really... I don’t know you very well, but I know enough that oftentimes, your actions speak louder than your words.” When he made no response, just stared at her, listening, she went on.

“You try to put on this... this emotionless mask... but anyone looking closely enough can see that’s all it is. A mask. You do have emotions, I see them when you come into the lab or the morgue, when you’re on a case. It... excites you. And I know you care very much for Mrs. Hudson, even if you won’t say it. Clearly, there’s at least some level of affection, or she wouldn’t let you nick her ginger nuts,” she laughed softly, then sobered and looked him in the eye. “And it doesn’t take a genius to know you’re upset about something right now.”

Sherlock continued staring, blinking a few times. She’d seen that look before... once at Bart’s, he’d been on a case, trying to work out some clue or other. He’d been stumped, something he was not used to being.

Had... had she stumped him?

“Um... Sherlock?” she frowned, feeling uneasy under the weight of his gaze.

Something in him seemed to snap. In two quick strides, he had crossed over to where she stood, eyes blazing, and before she could stammer out a coherent question, he had cradled her face in his hands and kissed her.

Oh Lord, did he kiss her!

His lips, soft and sweet and urgent, attacked hers with a passion she soon felt pooling in her belly. As she reached up to tangle her fingers in his hair, his arms moved to her waist, hoisting her up and pressing her against the nearest wall. On instinct, she wrapped her legs around him, and was rewarded with a deep, guttural groan that shot through her like lightning. He pressed closer, until, apparently not satisfied with their proximity, he pulled her away from the wall and carried her right into his bedroom.

Molly had no time to survey her new surroundings before being tossed onto the bed in a giggling heap. Sherlock followed, and soon it was all tangled limbs, breathless sighs, and removal of clothing, leading up to what was undoubtedly the best shag of her life.

While she caught her breath, she half expected him to close off, maybe even leave (though it was his room). Instead, he surprised her by wrapping his arms around her, guiding her head to his shoulder. Sherlock Holmes is a cuddler! she thought gleefully, but kept this thought to herself, lest he push her away.

“Sherlock?” she began tentatively.

“Hmm?”

She gnawed on her lip thoughtfully. “What exactly was that?”

He was quiet for a moment, then, “Molly, did your parents neglect to give you ‘The Talk’? If that is the case, I have to wonder how on earth you managed such a glowing performance just now.”

Molly grinned at his compliment, but jabbed him in the side with one finger. “Not what I meant, and you know it!”

Sherlock sighed, shifting them both so they lay on their sides, facing each other. His eyes, so stormy and intense before, now made her think of the ocean under a clear blue sky. “I don’t think anyone has been able to read me so clearly. Not even Mycroft.”

Mycroft? Molly wondered who the owner of such an unusual name could be. Then again, Sherlock wasn’t the most common name, either. Still, she couldn’t imagine any other name suiting him so well.

“I lost a client,” he spoke again, his eyes shifting pensively to her hair on the pillow. He moved a hand between them and toyed with the long, loose strands. “Eighteen years old. Looking for his younger brother. I solved it... but not until after I’d found them both dead in a warehouse in Chelsea.”

Molly’s throat tightened. “Oh, Sherlock...”

“I felt... guilt,” he admitted, his eyes still fixed on the strands of her hair that slid through his fingers. “Such a young man, barely a man at all, and his brother was even younger, only fifteen. I deal with death on a regular basis, and it has never bothered me... until today.” His eyes closed on an exhale. “If only I’d been there sooner—”

“Stop,” she said firmly, and his eyes opened in surprise. “Don’t you dare blame yourself, this isn’t your fault. Sometimes, these things just... happen.” She brushed her fingers along his cheekbone, and his breath stuttered a bit. “You can’t save everyone, Sherlock.”

“Easy for you to say, they’re already dead when you meet them.”

Molly frowned and removed her hand, and the look he gave her as she did reminded her of a boy being scolded for doing something he didn’t know he’d done. “Not good?”

Oh, the adorable man... it was all she could do not to kiss those pouting lips.

Molly sighed. “No, not good. But you’re upset, so I’ll forgive you. This time,” she added with a grin.

He smirked, all traces of boyishness gone. “And I suppose the sex has nothing to do with it?”

“Keep that up, and I’ll un-forgive you,” she swatted him.

“That’s not a word.”

“It is now.”

“Mollyyyyy...”

“Sherlooooock...”

He silenced her with a kiss, and Molly completely forgot why she was cross with him to begin with. Sherlock shifted until he was leaning over her, deepening the kiss and turning her insides to jelly. She had just enough presence of mind, however, to break off and give one final warning.

“You can’t just snog me into getting what you want, Sherlock Holmes.”

“What if what I want is to snog you?” he countered.

“I mean it, Sherlock.”

He sighed. “Fine. I will never use your addiction to my body as a means of getting my way. May I please get back to snogging you?”

“Oh, you—!”

But whatever insult she’d planned to throw at him was swallowed by Sherlock’s insistent lips. And Molly just couldn’t bring herself to care.

#my writing #sherlolly fanfiction #trope duos #damn i'm proud of this #gigglesnort

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crystalninjaphoenix · 5 years ago

Text

Threads

A Stitched Story

JSE Fanfic

And we’re back with this! A longer part, I suppose, but hopefully not too long. The main group finally meets up with Jackie again, finding things aren’t quite right over with him. And there’s these creepy things crawling all over, what’s with that? And where’s Marvin? Well, I can tell you now, he’s not having a good time either. Anyway, hope you guys like this! There’s not as much action as the previous part, but still some, and a lot of dialogue, too ^-^

Tagging @septic-dr-schneep for inspiring this AU with this post.

Read where it started: Stitched Together | Season One | Season Two

Previous Season Three story: Torn Apart | Tales to Tell

Taglist (finally): @bupine @violet--majesty

Nine o’clock in the morning, and the day had already gone off the rails in multiple ways. The group gathered in the living room of Schneep’s apartment. Chase and Jack sat on one of the sofas, and Schneep and JJ sat on the other, opposite them. They’d brought in snacks, mainly chips and oven-made fries, but nobody was touching them in light of the discussion.

“Look, we have no reason to trust this stranger or his word,” Schneep was saying. “He could be lying.”

“Yeah, but why would anyone lie about something like this?” Chase countered. “‘Hi, your friend who died has come back to life and really wants to see you,’ what could possibly be gained from that?”

“And he’s not really a stranger,” Jack added. “I think I kinda remember Jackie mentioning him before. Said he was a detective, or something.”

Schneep rolled his eyes. “It does not matter in the end. He could still be lying.”

But I have to agree with Chase, JJ signed. Why would he do so?

Chase looked at JJ, startled but relieved. He waited for Jack to translate Jameson’s signs for Schneep before continuing. “Yeah, and it’s not totally out of possibility, is it? When we thought we defeated Anti before, Jackie and Marvin reappeared. Maybe now that Anti is gone for good, they came back somehow.”

Schneep folded his arms. “If we say they have come back in some way, there is a high chance they will not be the same, given how...odd they were last time.”

Chase glanced back over at JJ. “Yeah, uh, we’ve...thought about that.” He waited for JJ to jump in, but there was nothing. “But...I mean, we should still check it out, right? Stacy gave me this guy’s number, I can call him to see what’s up.”

“Yeah, that sounds like a good idea,” Jack added. “See for ourselves what this guy’s like. Or, uh, hear. You know?”

“Yes yes, we can do that first.” Schneep nodded. “What was his name again?”

“Malcolm,” Chase said, picking up his phone and copying the number from his notes into the dialer. “I’ve never met him before, but then again, I don’t really know all of your guys’ friends either.” He could’ve been at the funeral, but then again, Chase didn’t think he would have remembered him if he was. He was a little...distracted at the time.

“Yeah, I think I’ve heard him mention that name before,” Jack said. “Or I’m just thinking about Marvin instead.”

Speaking of which, where would Marvin be? JJ asked. The two of them were, well, stuck together, weren’t they? But this stranger only called us to talk about Jackie.

“Uh, maybe the two of them just...separated?” Jack suggested.

“Guys it’s ringing,” Chase shushed. Everyone else fell silent.

The other end clicked as it was picked up. “Hello?”

Chase swallowed a lump in his throat. “Hi, it’s Chase. Are you Malcolm? Uh, I think you called my, um, ex?”

“Oh yeah!” The man on the other end sounded friendly enough, if not at all familiar. “Yeah, that was me. Sorry about that, by the way. I have no idea why he remembered your ex’s number and not yours.”

“Right, ha,” Chase laughed nervously. “So, uh...did you really...I-I mean, did Ja—is he really, uh, is Jackie—”

“No I get it, it sounds insane,” Malcolm said. “But yeah, Jackie is...alive. I-I don’t know how, but he is. I can probably put him on, if you’d like.”

Chase felt the bottom of his stomach drop out. “Uh...yeah, you can do that.”

“Great. Hold on a minute.” On the other end he heard what sounded like a hardwood floor. A door opened, and Malcolm’s voice came through, the words muffled. A few seconds later, a different voice came through the line. “Chase? Chase?”

It took him a moment to respond. The others were all staring at him intensely, Jack actually leaning a bit closer as if he could hear what was happening in the call. “Uh...yeah,” Chase finally said. “It’s me. Is this—”

“It’s you!” Jackie’s familiar voice was bright. “It’s you, you! Where are you? I can’t find you.”

“Uh, y-yeah it’s me,” Chase said. “I’m, uh...I’m on my way.”

“Here?”

“Yeah, to wherever you are.”

“Hurry! Where are you? Tell me!” Jackie insisted.

“Um...can you hand the phone back to your friend?” Chase asked. “So he can tell me where you are.”

“Where are you?!” Jackie repeated.

“I’m going there, I just need to know where there is,” Chase persisted. “Can you tell me or hand the phone so your friend can tell me?”

Jackie groaned, sounding disappointed. There was a vague sort of shuffling sound. “Are you still there?” Malcolm asked.

“Yeah,” Chase said. He glanced around at the others. “So...I guess we’ll be stopping by.”

“That would be great,” Malcolm replied. “Jackie is, uh...he really wants to see you. I’m at 756 Windscape Lane, it’s on the west side. My roommate will be out all day, but I took the day off work so I’ll...be here. With Jackie.”

“756 Windscape Lane,” Chase repeated, giving the others a significant look. JJ immediately took out his phone and typed in the address. “We’ll be there soon.”

“Great. See you then.” Click. The call ended.

“So...” Schneep said slowly. “Was he telling the truth?”

Chase looked up. “Well...y-yeah, he put Jackie on the line, and...well it sounded like him. I’d know that voice anywhere.” He paused. “I...I guess it could have been a trick somehow, but it...sounded like him,” he repeated lamely.

JJ took a deep breath. Well, we should at least check it out, shouldn’t we?

“Uh, yeah,” Chase said, giving JJ a slightly startled look. “The address isn’t that far from here, I think. But I don’t have my car so we can’t drive, and it’ll take a while on the bus—”

“I think I could get us there,” Schneep interrupted. “Or at least close.” The air seemed to shiver around him. “I have been practicing, after all.”

“Right, sounds like we’re all good, then,” Jack said. “Do we need anything? JJ, you want a scarf for your face?”

That would be nice, JJ said.

“Well let’s hurry, then,” Chase said. “I said we’d be there soon.” And he wanted to see what this was all about. See if there was anything to hope for.

— — — — — — —

“Stupid power outage,” Yvonne muttered. She was laying on the sofa, pointing her flashlight at the ceiling and making patterns with the circle of light. “Stupid crazy shit happening in the world.” She sighed, and looked over at the nearby armchair. “How’re you hanging on?”

Marvin was curled up in the chair, hugging his mask to himself. He didn’t respond. In fact, he hadn’t said anything at all since that weird comment about “puppets” an hour or so ago.

“Great, glad to hear it,” she commented, looking back at the ceiling. If she could just figure out what was up with his soul, and with those strange strings. She had the feeling they were connected with each other. Sighing, she turned to face the coffee table. Earlier, she’d grabbed a few books from her shop downstairs that she thought might help. Hadn’t had the...initiative to look at them yet. Now was as good a time as any. She reached over and grabbed one, flipping to the table of contents. “Hey, it’s Rituals for the Curious Soul Mage. Remember this?”

Marvin turned to look at her. Still didn’t say anything, just...staring.

“Course you do,” Yvonne mumbled. “You took a spell from it.” The book originally had a lock holding it shut, but one day, shortly after a visit from Marvin a few years ago, the one where he dropped off his mask at her apartment, the lock had suddenly disappeared. Recalling this, she flipped to one of the spells. There were a few pencil notes in the margins that weren’t in her handwriting. Yvonne scanned over the spell and the notes, and paused. “Wait a second.” She sat up straight. “Marvin, you didn’t...you didn’t actually do this, did you?”

He just kept staring at her.

“Look, I’m all for reading up the theory, but you didn’t actually do it, right?” Yvonne repeated, maintaining eye contact. “You knew how dangerous this was, right? Tearing up a soul is—it’s just—” She stopped. “Oh my god, you actually did it,” she whispered. “That’s why your soul is—oh my holy fuck.” She read over the page once again, running her finger along the title: Transference Ritual. “Who’d you convince to be the other...” Slowly, she trailed off. “Your flatmate. Both of you died at the same time, you...shit. Fuck shit.” She snapped the book closed. “What happened to him? What happened to you? Why are you back now?”

Finally, Marvin shook his head slowly. “I don’t know where the other me is,” he said quietly.

Yvonne buried her face in her hands. “It’s fine. It’s—I’ll figure it out.”

Marvin tilted his head, then looked out the window. “Shards?” He asked. “Where did we go?”

“I still have no idea what you’re talking about,” Yvonne sighed. “But I’m closer. It’s fine. It’s going to be fine.” She picked up the book again and reopened it to the same page. Maybe she could learn something from this spell.

— — — — — — —

Meanwhile, on the west side of the city, the air seemed to shimmer, and all of a sudden, four men popped into existence on the sidewalk. One of them immediately bent over and covered his mouth. Another pressed his hands to his head. “Oh god, I don’t feel so well,” the last one muttered.

“What? You were all fine when I took you to the apartment!” Schneep protested.

“Maybe it’s like...you can’t do too many at once?” Jack asked, shaking his head. “But yeah, doesn’t matter, I still feel like my insides want to be on the outside.”

“Same,” Chase muttered, straightening. “And dizzy too.” He squeezed his eyes shut and opened them wide. “Okay, but it looks like we’re here. Uhh...what was the address again?”

JJ pulled his hands away from his head and signed 756 Windscape Lane.

“Right, 756.” Chase nodded. “Looks like we’re already on Windscape Lane. Nice place, I guess. Quaint.”

It’s an older section of the city, JJ explained.

“Well, we’re at 740.” Jack pointed at the number on one of the nearby houses. “We’re close. Let’s go.”

It was just a couple blocks’ walk before they reached their destination. The town house labelled 756 looked just like any of the others on the street. Chase hurried up the short walkway to stand on the threshold. He glanced behind him. Schneep was clutching Jack’s arm for stability, and JJ was adjusting the scarf around the lower half of his face. Jack nodded for Chase to go ahead. Chase nodded back, and turned around, ringing the doorbell.

A few seconds later, the door was opened by a black-haired man in a purple hoodie. “Oh hey,” he said.

“Hey,” Chase said, recognizing the voice from the earlier phone call. “Sooo...I’m Chase.”

“Malcolm. Nice to meet you.” The other man held out his hand for a shake, but slowly withdrew it when Chase didn’t take it. “Uh...I wasn’t expecting a whole group. It’s fine, though. Come in, come in.”

The group entered, finding themselves in a dim hallway lit only by a couple candles on a table. “Man, it’s so dark in here,” Jack complained. “I can barely see anything.”

“Oh no, what a nightmare,” Schneep drawled.

“...sorry,” Jack muttered.

Did you just quote Avatar? JJ asked.

“I think he did,” Chase said.

“Uh...I think I’m missing context for this conversation.” Malcolm looked between the group. “Anyway, yeah. The power’s out. Sorry about that.”

“I think it’s a citywide thing,” Chase shrugged. “It was out at the last two places we were.” He hesitated. “So...where’s, uh...”

“Upstairs,” Malcolm said, anticipating the question. “He’s been hanging out in our spare room. Haven’t told my roommate yet, because honestly I don’t know what the fuck to say about this.” He pulled his phone out of the pocket and switched on the flashlight feature. Pointing it to the side, the beam landed on a staircase leading upward. “C’mon, I’ll show you.”

A quick climb up the stairs and they were in another hallway. Malcolm led them all the way down to the last door on the left. He opened the door slowly, shining his flashlight inside. “Hello? Jackie? Your friends are here.” The room was dark, of course, the only light coming from a battery-powered digital clock. It was hard to even see the vague shapes of furniture. Malcolm glanced back at the others. “I’ll uh...open the window.” He darted inside. Curtains rattled on the rod and morning light flooded the room, landing on a figure sitting on a bed and looking downwards.

Chase and Jack exchanged looks, both reluctant to go inside. But after a bit, Chase took a deep breath and stepped inside first. “Hey, uh, Jackie?”

At the sound of his voice, Jackie’s head snapped up and whipped towards him. Chase stopped in his tracks. It was definitely Jackie. Wearing his favorite red hoodie and a pair of jeans, brown-haired and blue-eyed like he’d always been. Jackie smiled wide, the expression so familiar it ached, and ran right over.

“Ja—oof!” Chase stiffened as Jackie wrapped his arms around him in a tight hug, momentarily at a loss for words. After the initial shock of seeing and feeling Jackie alive again, he was starting to feel the panic at the skin contact sinking in. He looked at the others with an expression of panic on his face, practically begging for them to tell him what to do about this.

Jack nodded, and walked inside the room, Schneep following behind, still gripping his arm. “Uh, hey Jackie. So...you’re back?”

“Hmm.” Jackie glanced over at Jack and Schneep, not letting go at Chase. “Others.”

“Uh...yeah, we’re the others,” Jack said slowly. “You, uh...you okay?”

Jackie didn’t answer. Chase started to squirm, pushing at Jackie’s arms. Malcolm, standing back over by the window, cleared his throat. “Yeah, so...he’s been acting weird like this ever since he showed up here.”

“Weird like what?” Schneep asked.

Malcolm waved vaguely at Jackie, still attached to Chase. “You know...he keeps talking weird and disconnected, or not talking at all. I think his memory’s fuzzy or something, he didn’t...didn’t remember his name at first. I have no idea what’s going on.”

“Can someone get him to stop?” Chase whisper-shouted at the others. “It’s—” He yelped. Jackie had suddenly grabbed his wrist. Sharply jerking it back, he stammered out, “Uh, Jackie, don’t—please don’t do—I-I mean I’m glad to see you too, but—but don’t—”

“Where’d they go?” Jackie asked, brows scrunching together in confusion.

“Where’d what go?” Chase asked, trying to lean back.

Jameson finally stepped into the room. I hate to ask this, but...he wasn’t like this before, was he?

Jack shook his head, momentarily at a loss for words. “Not at all...I mean, he was always a touchy-feely kind of—actually no, that sounds wrong, I mean he liked to hug people a lot. But he’d stop if you didn’t want it. If he didn’t, Marvin never would’ve lived—”

“Marvin!” Jackie suddenly shouted, looking around as if he expected to see him nearby. “Where is me? Us? The missing parts.”

“He’s been doing a lot of that,” Malcolm muttered, rubbing his temple like he was getting a headache. “Lots of talk about me and us and something missing.”

“That is...odd,” Schneep said, narrowing his eyes. “Jackie, can you stop that? You are making Chase uncomfortable.”

Jackie growled. “No. He’s ours.” He squeezed Chase tighter, not noticing or not caring how his uncomfortable expression turned to one of genuine distress.

“Well that’s...unsettling,” Jack said.

Jack. Jameson stepped closer. Maybe you could use your soul vision on him?

“Huh? Oh yeah.” He’d almost forgotten to try that. The weird soul vision was just normal to him now. With that reminder, he closed his left eye and watched the world turn monochrome. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed Malcolm’s soul glowing a bright violet, but he was more concentrated on what he was seeing in front of him. Last time he’d looked at Jackie’s soul, it had been a random mess of red and blue shards. Now? Well, the soul was still broken, but the pieces were mostly red, and they seemed larger than before, almost holding together a shape. Almost. They still weren’t a solid light like all the other souls were, and about a fourth of them were still blue. “Okay, that’s...still concerning, but not as concerning as it was.”

“Uhh...once again, I’m missing something,” Malcolm said.

“It’s a long story,” Jack said. “What’s important is that...Chase, are you okay?”

Chase didn’t answer. He’d slowly gone very pale, shaking a bit and breathing faster and faster. Once again, Jackie paid no mind to this, content to keep hugging him tight.

“This does not seem good,” Schneep muttered, pushing away from Jack. He walked over to Jackie and Chase and slowly reached out. Once he made contact, grabbing Jackie’s arm, he started physically trying to separate them.

Jackie suddenly shrieked, turning his attention to Schneep. “No! You can’t!” He shoved Schneep away, sending him stumbling backwards. “Stupid us̀el̴e̡s͝s doctor! He’s ours!”

“Jackie!” Schneep gasped.

“Hey!” Jack stepped forward. “Just drop it, Jackie! And leave Chase alone! Look at him, can’t you see you’re freaking him out?” Chase was rapidly blinking back tears as he tried to keep from hyperventilating. “I get you’re excited to see him, but you can’t do this.”

“We can do anything,” Jackie said in a low voice. “He’s ơu͝r̡s̕.” Without warning, he grabbed Chase’s bandanna and started pulling. Chase made a startled squeak that turned into something more choked as the bandanna didn’t come undone.

A bright blue light suddenly burst in between Jackie and Chase, growing into a sphere made of lines of runes that slowly pushed them apart. Once they were separated, Jameson slowly lowered his hand. Chase, are you okay? He asked.

Chase covered his mouth with his hands, breathing heavily. “I-I’m...gonna...” He walked over to the bed and sat down on the edge, saying nothing more.

“Um, okay!” Malcolm looked back and forth between JJ and the spot where the sphere had been. “Excuse me for interrupting the moment, but what the fuck’s going on here?!”

“Magic is real, that is what’s going on here,” Schneep said curtly. “Jackie, no.” He lunged forward and grabbed Jackie by the back of the hoodie, just in time to stop him from walking over to Chase. “At least I can feel him like normal,” Schneep muttered. “Not like last time. I know where he is.”

Jackie, very obviously upset at being grabbed, started to turn around. He was probably planning on hitting Schneep at the very least, but he stopped halfway through, staring at the window. His eyes widened, and he suddenly laughed.

“Uh...that does not sound like a happy laugh,” Schneep said. “That sounds a bit...evil.”

Jack, Jameson, and Malcolm looked over at the window in unison. There didn’t seem to be anything there, so Malcolm, standing closest, edged up to it and looked out the glass. “I don’t see—wait what the fuck?!” He jumped back, just in time for the others to see something green crawling up the side. “What is that, string?!”

“String?!” Jack ran over to the window. Bits of green string were climbing along the edges of the glass, wriggling like snakes. The sight made him a bit sick, memories of Anti flashing through his mind as he slowly backed up. “What is that?!”

“I thought we’d established that it’s string,” Malcolm said. “The real question is, what’s it doing here?” His eyes widened. “Wait, is it—?!”

The window swung open. Quickly, the bits of string climbed inside, dropping to the ground and inching their way across the floor.

“It’s me!” Jackie said, delighted. “Parts of missing pieces!” He started to walk towards the string, but Schneep grabbed him, pinning his arms to his side. Jackie scowled. “Stop it! I need it!”

“I do not know what’s going on,” Schneep said, “but it sounds bad! What is happening?!”

“It’s weird string!” Jack continued to back away from them. “A bunch of them! They’re—oh god, that’s creepy, they’re like little worms.” His head followed their movement. “And they’re heading for Jackie!”

Malcolm ran over and slammed the window shut, trapping a few strings on the other side. “Well I’m guessing we don’t want that, so what do we do?!” He looked over at Jameson. “Can’t you do the same sort of thing you did to separate them?!”

Jameson jumped in surprise, then nodded, throwing out his hand. A disc of blue sprang up in front of the strings’ path. When they tried to squirm around it, JJ curved the magic around them, until eventually trapping them in a dome of blue light. Problem solved, he signed shakily.

“Okay but seriously, what is this?” Jack asked, inching closer to the strings contained in their magic dome.

Jackie managed to shake free of Schneep’s hold and immediately lunged forward. Schneep cried out and tackled him. The two landed hard on the floor. After a few seconds of wrestling, Schneep managed to pin Jackie to the ground.

Chase, looking only slightly less pale, glanced over at the strings. “Hey, they look like, um...you know...” He laughed nervously. “You know, the last time, when Jack pulled the string out of Anti? They look like that did, but lots of them.”

“God, what have you guys been up to?” Malcolm muttered.

“Huh. Actually, they do,” Jack said to Chase. “What does that...?”

I wonder, Jameson signed, if it is the same string.

“Wait, what?!” Jack whipped over to look at him. “JJ, that’s—is that possible? For this string to be the same? I mean, it wouldn’t have duplicated or anything, would it?”

“Hold on a moment.” Schneep paused. Jackie tried to take advantage of this and try to climb to his feet, but Schneep realized what he was trying and grabbed him again. “The—ach—the strings, I snipped them up, remember? Into many little pieces. I thought...I thought that would destroy him.” He hesitated again. “Maybe it...did not?”

Momentary silence filled the room. Then Chase said, in a voice quiet enough to be barely heard, “Maybe...in order for him to go away completely, we have to completely destroy these strings.”

Schneep nodded. “That...that would make sense.”

But how do we do that? Jameson asked. These aren’t normal pieces of sewing thread, they’re magic.

“We can figure something out,” Jack said decisively. “In the meantime.” He looked over at Malcolm. “Do you have, like, a jar or something we can use?”

“Uh...I don’t know if we have a jar, but I’m sure there’s something in the kitchen.” Malcolm edged around the room, giving everyone else space. “I’ll just...go look.” And he hurried out of the room.

“Alright. Amazing,” Schneep said. “But also, what do we do about—ahk!"

Jackie had managed to shift around and punch him in the face, whipping his head to the side. Schneep, startled, momentarily loosened his grip enough for him to wriggle out and climb to his feet. He darted straight towards the spot the strings were imprisoned on the floor. His hand flung out like he was throwing something. And something did fly out of his hand, though he wasn’t holding anything. Bits of jagged red light sprayed outward, sharp edges scraping along the edge of the blue magic dome until it burst like a popped balloon, all the strings flying outward.

“Wait, what?!” Jack gasped.

Jameson staggered back, eyes wide, but then jumped into action, diving forward and once again knocking Jackie to the ground. Jackie cried out, surprised, but reached out. One of the strings crawled forward, making contact with his hand and wrapping around his fingers.

“No!” Chase suddenly dashed forward, pulling off his hoodie and throwing it over the strings. It covered them all, and he quickly swept them up, holding his hoodie in a ball close to his chest. “God, they’re still wriggling.” He shivered.

Jackie’s expression brightened. “Chase! Chase. Chase Chase Chase.” He held out his hand, the string now tightening around his wrist like a woven bracelet.

Chase stared at him, then without looking away, gestured for Jack to come closer. Jack hurried over, and Chase passed the hoodie to him, still balled up to prevent any of the string bits from falling out. “H-hey, Jackie,” Chase said, smiling nervously. “How...what’s up?”

“I...I don’t remember,” Jackie whispered. “But hey. Come here. Please?”

JJ looked up at Chase, alarm in his eyes. Chase swallowed nervously, then nodded. After a moment’s hesitation, Jameson backed away, letting Jackie sit up straight. Chase scooted a bit closer, and Jackie immediately snatched him, wrapping his arms tightly around him.

“Chase...” Jack said softly, gaping.

“It’s fine,” Chase said hoarsely, giving Jack a wavering smile. “Go down and find that Malcolm guy, give him the, uh...hoodie.”

Jack didn’t move for a long while. But slowly, he backed up, leaving the room.

Schneep slowly walked over, offering JJ a hand to help him up, which he took. “This is all wrong,” he muttered.

“Y-yeah, no shit,” Chase mumbled. “Jackie wasn’t magic.”

Schneep frowned. “I was not talking about that, but yes. Perhaps being stuck with Marvin for so long had some...effects?”

That would make sense, I suppose, JJ agreed.

“Maybe,” Chase said quietly. He was trying very hard to keep breathing at a regular pace. Jackie’s hug was...suffocating. But also, he got the feeling that Schneep and JJ were giving him these...strange looks. Well, obviously Schneep couldn’t look at him, but it was something in their expressions. “You, uh...you two okay?”

“Are you okay, Chase?” Schneep countered.

“Hey, I’ll...live.” By this point, Jackie seemed to have significantly relaxed, closing his eyes. For whatever reason, he’d been able to distract him from the weird string things, and that was all that mattered. Speaking of which...“Hey, weren’t there more of...those? That got stuck outside?”

The two others stiffened. Jameson glanced over, then walked up to the window and peered out. After a moment, he pushed it open and leaned out, looking down and to the side. Then he pulled back inside and shut it. Well for whatever reason, they’re gone now, he signed. And then he tapped on the glass, no doubt saying the same thing in Morse code for Schneep.

“What? Where did they go?” Schneep asked.

“Y’know at this moment I don’t really care about that,” Chase said plainly. “We can deal with that later.”

The other two shifted uncomfortably. JJ tried to exchange a look with Schneep before remembering he couldn’t respond in kind. Schneep folded his arms and went to stand by the door. Jameson stayed at the window. And Jackie didn’t seem at all eager to let Chase go, so they remained on the floor, waiting for Jack and Malcolm to return.

— — — — — — —

The power in the city didn’t come on for another few hours. When it did, it came back in patches, depending on which section had managed to repair the mysterious damage done at the junctions. Yvonne’s shop was fortunately close to one of the repaired sections. Around noon, she sighed in relief as the lamps in her living room came back on. She was getting tired of straining her eyes to read books by flashlight. “Well, guess now’s a good time to take a lunch break,” she said, setting a book aside. “You hungry, Marvin?”

“Hmm?” Marvin hadn’t moved much from his position. But he nodded slowly. “Yes. Food.”

“Food is good.” Yvonne stood up and stretched. “C’mon, to the kitchen.” She walked over and grabbed his hand, pulling him to his feet. Together, they went into the apartment’s small kitchen. Marvin hovered in the corner, still holding his mask close, while she searched through the cabinets. “Don’t know if I have anything you’ll eat, you picky bastard,” she muttered. “Uh...I guess some pasta. You want some pasta?”

“Does it matter?” Marvin asked.

“Well not to me, but does it to you?”

“Does it?”

“Does—”

“Okay, never mind, fuck, I’ll just make spaghetti,” Yvonne groaned. She grabbed the box and a pot, filling it up with water and setting the noodles on the stove.

After a moment, Marvin walked closer, standing behind her and looking over her shoulder. She glanced over at him. “Uh...you know what they say about watched pots and boiling,” she said, trying to make it a joke.

Marvin blinked. “...no? I don’t remember that one. I-I don’t remember...there are things missing, still, without the other half.”

“Uh...right.” Yvonne said slowly. “Well, I”m just saying, we don’t need to watch it. We can just...sit down. At the counter, here.” She took a seat on one of the stools, patting another to indicate Marvin to do the same.

He didn’t. Instead he turned around and walked back into the living room, probably going to wait in there.

“...well, you can do that, too,” Yvonne commented. She sighed, and leaned back against the counter. What did he mean about the other half? Perhaps...she’d seen the way his soul looked in the Lens, the way it was...broken. Was only half of his soul there? That would explain some of the weirdness with his memory. There was evidence that the memory and the soul were linked, though it wasn’t clear if the soul affected memories or vice versa. In fact, a lot of people, even soul magicians, were still unsure what the soul was. The common consensus so far was that souls were like summing up someone into a single entity, like compressing their memories, beliefs, personalities, and everything else into a small, magical something. But it was also something different from all that, different from the mind, which was evident in how mental magic and soul magic were completely unrelated branches.

She continued to think over this as she watched the pot of noodles boil, and eventually turned the stove off, grabbing the strainer. As she poured the spaghetti into the strainer, she wondered if everything strange about Marvin could be explained by the strange way his soul had been broken. And that, the breaking of the soul, was likely related to the failed transference ritual. Though...it still didn’t explain why Marvin had actually died, or why he was back now...

In the other room, Marvin started laughing.

Yvonne paused. That wouldn’t have sounded so weird, with the Marvin she’d known before. But this was a different Marvin. Though his laugh was the same, it was...she hesitated to admit it, but it was creepy hearing it now. Abandoning the pasta, she walked back into the living room.

Marvin was standing by the window. Which was now open. That was odd. She’d left it closed ever since those strange green—

She shrieked as she saw the bits of string wriggling into the room. Less of them than before, but still concerning. What did they want?! Getting over it, she straightened. A Sending had taken care of them last time, it will this time as well. “Marvin, get away from those!” she shouted, rushing forward.

Marvin glared at her, snarling. He made a sweeping motion with his hand. There was a blast of cobalt-colored light, and suddenly glowing blue strings were shooting out from his hands. Yvonne hesitated for just a moment, surprised, but it was long enough for the blue strings to wrap around her, pinning her legs together and her arms to her side. She gasped, and lost her balance, landing hard on her side. What was this?! This wasn’t a spell that Marvin knew! At least, not before the transference ritual must’ve gone wrong. She tried to fight against the magic, but it simply wound tighter, and she was panicking too much to get a good grip on a spell of her own. “Marvin!” She shouted. “What are you doing?”

He didn’t even look at her. The green bits of string were now inside. Marvin reached towards them, and the string crawled up his arms, wrapping around them, heading upwards until they reached his neck. They burrowed under the bandages Yvonne had wrapped there, loosening them until they fell. Marvin shivered, closed his eyes, and laughed again. “Missing, missing, more complete, complete!...nearly c͝o̵mplęt͞e.”

Yvonne managed to sit up, pushing herself against the wall. “Marvin...?” she asked softly.

Marvin’s eyes snapped open, his right eye now glowing bright green. Reaching up, he pulled off the bandages. The strings had woven into the cut on his neck, crudely stitching it closed. “We...I found more missing pieces,” he said, voice tinged with static. “And yes, yes, I remember. All the others, all the pu͡p͠pe̢t͢s.” He clenched his fists, trembling slightly—but not with fear, with anger. “We hate them so...ś̕o̢͡ much. Why? That’s still missing. I need to find that, too. But I...I know that now.” He laughed. “Which do we find first? The puppets or the shards?”

“Marvin...” Yvonne repeated softly. “What are you talking about?”

“You’re his friend,” Marvin said, tilting his head. “He came here often, he...his mask.” He looked back over at the sofa, the ceramic cat-shaped mask discarded on it. Slowly, he reached over and picked it up, turning it over in his hands. He gripped it firmly, and—

CRACK!

One half of the mask fell back to the sofa. Still holding the other half, Marvin pulled out the ribbon that would’ve held the mask in place. He put it up to his face, covering the left upper half. One of the strings from his throat unstitched itself and crawled upward, becoming the new ribbon holding it in place. “And the s̀ho͟w ͢goe͞s̴ o͏ń,” he whispered, running a hand along the ceramic, magic slowly staining it blue instead of white. A smile twisted his face.

Yvonne stared in shock. What...what had those strings done? Mentally, she finally started running through some spells, looking for one that’ll help.

Marvin stared right back at her, and after a moment, approached. Yvonne tried backing up, but she was already backed against the wall. Slowly, Marvin bent over, his face inches from hers. “Hold tight to everything,” he whispered. “Before it fades away. There will be nothing left but a bleeding hole inside your chest.” And with a final flash of a grin, he disappeared in a flurry of white noise.

The blue strings of magic disappeared, and Yvonne hurried to her feet, looking around. She ran a quick detection spell, finding no other soul in her apartment. Once she was sure of that, she hurried over to the sofa, grabbing the other half of the mask.

What happened to Marvin? What had he become?

— — — — — — —

It had taken a few hours to convince Jackie that holding Chase’s hand was just as good as hugging him. Now, with the group gathered in the town house’s parlor room, Jackie and Chase were sitting on the sofa, with Jackie holding tight to Chase’s arm and leaning his head on his shoulder. With the strings out of sight, he seemed content to just hang around. Still, the others kept giving him uneasy glances, especially Jameson, standing in the corner. Jack and Schneep had taken the two armchairs, and Malcolm was pacing the length of the room, thinking over the very brief explanation the others had given him.

“Do you think that maybe we need to cut them up further?” Schneep asked. His scissors had appeared in his hands at some point, and he was now turning them over.

“No, I don’t think so,” Jack said. In his lap was a metal water bottle, its lid duct-taped closed. He gripped it tight, feeling the strings moving inside. “I think if we cut them up further, it’ll just be harder to keep track of them.”

“Ah. I suppose that makes sense.” Schneep frowned. “What will they even do?”

“Well...there’s this one around his wrist,” Chase said tentatively, holding up Jackie’s hand so the others could see the tight string bracelet. “They, uh, were all moving towards him. And he wanted to get to them. A lot like last time.”

Perhaps if they all get to him, Anti will somehow return again? JJ speculated.

Jackie giggled. “I have no idea what you’re saying. Do I know this language? Did I forget it?”

“I don’t think you did, buddy,” Jack muttered.

“Okay, so.” Malcolm stopped pacing, turning to look at the others. “Can we burn the crazy magic string? Is that possible?”

“I do not think so,” Schneep shrugged. “But I suppose we could try.”

“What happens when we do get rid of them?” Chase asked. “Will, uh...he...” He tried to push Jackie’s head away, only for it to land right back on his shoulder. “Stay like this or change or...?”

Nobody answered that question, the silence filling the air. Until it was interrupted by a doorbell. Malcolm groaned in frustration. “God I swear if any other crazy shit happens to make me question reality I’m going to go straight to bed, I don’t care anymore,” he muttered as he headed out to the front door.

“Uh, okay, so,” Jack said. “Back to JJ’s question. If the string get to him, will Anti return?”

“But I’m a͟lready͝ ͝ḩer̕ȩ.”

Silence once again. Everyone looked over at Jackie. They had to let it sink in that yes, he had just said that. Chase leaned away, looking suddenly sick. Jameson adjusted the scarf around his mouth and stared at the ground. “Well that was the creepiest thing you have ever said,” Schneep mumbled, gripping his scissors.

“Um...Jackie.” Jack inched his chair a bit closer. “You’re not...you’re Jackie, not anyone else.”

“No, we are someone else, too,” Jackie insisted.

In the third silence that ensued, the group could hear talking, coming from the direction of the front door. And it was getting closer. Malcolm poked his head into the room. “Hey, uh, someone’s here to see all of you,” he said.

“What?” Schneep asked.

Who could that be? Jameson asked.

“Yeah, I agree with JJ, who is it?” Jack asked.

A figure stepped out from around Malcolm. An older woman, with a dark braid of hair down her back and her eyes glowing a slight purple. “Sorry for dropping in on all of you like this,” said Delyth Mae, magician. “But we really need to talk.”

#jacksepticeye #jacksepticeye fanfiction #jacksepticegos #septic egos #septic egos au #chase brody #dr schneeplestein #jameson jackson #jackieboy man #marvin the magnificent #brigid writes fanfiction #the stitched septics #stitchedstories

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dumbladores · 5 years ago

Text

You - Teaser

Summary: Your brother and a girl with whom you’ve become friends with by sharing a home, are your flatmates. But since there was a room left, another person had joined in, and not just anyone, but the very Antoine Griezmann himself, who has decided to go back to university and check out the life he had missed while having a career. I intend to develop your relationship rather slowly (but not too slowly, don't be scared). I intend to have at least one little teasing per chapter, how many chapters there will be, I don't know, depends on your demand and how it develops on its own :)

I'll be posting one chapter at least every two weeks. Make sure you check out my Patreon, where you'll have access to more much sooner. I’m dedicating this to @xratedffbarbiex, who inspired that sudden urge to write, so please make sure to check out her Antoine-series as well.

English isn't my first language, so please have mercy with me.

Besides, I'm always happy about propositions or inspiration, so don't hesitate to contact me.

Cheers, guys, to the great community, we've got here!

Warnings: not yet

Part: 1/ ? Part 2 follows next week on my Patreon

Word count: 1756

One

Your brother and a girl with whom you’ve become friends with by sharing a home, were your flatmates. But since there was a room left, another person had joined in, and not just anyone, but the very Antoine Griezmann himself. Footballplayer since he was little, he had to give up his career due to an injury on his left knee. Since he had no family to look after, he had decided to go back to university, doing a little catching up on the life he had missed, as he had been a professional since a very young age.

You had been away when he was to have the “flat interview”, so you didn’t have any saying in the decision, it was anyway a two against one vote, since the others were absolutely enthusiastic about him. Of what you gathered from their statements, it was merely because it was, well, him. But they said he was nice, too. You rolled your eyes at that sentence. It was obvious the two had been taken by either his charm or his indeed very inviting physical features. Nevertheless the three of you made a pact to make every effort you could to make his life in (name of town) as normal as it could be and to trying to include him in as many common student activities there were.

You often had friends over. Cynthia and you already knew a bunch of people since it was your third semester, and (name of your brother) also quickly took part in that circle of friends.

It had been weeks since he moved in and yet it seemed he didn’t settle in easily. In videos you had seen of him, he seemed so playfully and easy to get along. But here he behaved rather shyly. He kept mostly to himself during the daytime, locking himself in his room. You only saw him once in a while in the kitchen and in the living room, where he watched football or basketball on a big flat screen he had bought to share with his flatmates, which made a big impression to the other two, but not so much on you. You weren’t to be bought so simply, especially not by someone who wasn’t paying much attention to other stuff you cared more about - for example looking someone in the eyes.

Of course, you had made a big deal out of that fact. You kept saying to Cynthia, what a prick you thought he was and how cocky he behaved. She just rolled her eyes and sayd you should give him some time.

In fact, your pride was a little tiny part of it. You couldn’t bare the thought he didn’t notice you, didn’t show interest in you. But you never in a thousand years would admit it. So you eagerly researched. You researched everthing about him. Where he was brought up, in which clubs he had played, you even watched interviews with him. He was Frances’ darling. Grizou, as they called him. A symbol, an idol for the country, who didn’t even trust in him when he had started his career. No club had wanted him, so he had to move to Spain when he was 14 years old. You couldn’t believe it. It sounded like he had a whole life behind him, now being only 29, he had experienced more than any other normal person at this age, And yet he hadn’t, as he was willing to go back to university to learn, what he had missed when he was out in this cruel world, that loves you at one moment and rejects you at the other. You watched some interviews with him. In most, in fact, he didn’t look the interviewer in the eyes. Most of them were filmed after a match, so you supposed, you couldn’t demand much of a player that just had run for one and a half hours. You certainly wouldn’t be able anymore to utter anything. In fact, you most certainly would be dead. But no, in other situations it was just the same. Also what he was saying didn’t have any profoundness or depth. Angrily you let go, coming to the conclusion there was nothing interesting in this guy, and particulary nothing interesting for you.

Weeks passed. He had invited your brother to play FIFA on his XBOX in his room, but never talked to you or Cynthia more than necessary. You hadn’t exchanged 10 sentences by the end of one month, and after a while you gave it up. He had a few pals from his classes that came over once in a while, and he even came home very late twice, so you guessed he took part in student social life by his own, being to partys and stuff, probably having made other interesting acquintances. You hadn’t made any effort to get him to notice you in any way, but you just stopped caring.

That’s why you missed that he indeed looked at you one or two times in the kitchen. That he started to look at you when you talked to Cynthia or your brother or other friends you had invited over. In fact, there were many movie nights you hosted since you had this big flat TV and other students couldn’t even afford a proper fridge. Antoine started to laugh at your jokes or when you were doing something silly to amuse the people. He, indeed, started watching you intensely. More intensely than the others.

You only came to notice his stare in exactly that moment you were telling a story a group of people in the kitchen at a movie night. You were preparing popcorn in the microwave and you just made a joke about how you had thought as a kid that popcorn didn’t have anything to do with actual corn and that you had made the discovery only recently, and it had been as if you had entered a whole new dimension in the matrix. You noticed his stare, Antoine was casually leaning at the kitchen counter, one hand in his sweatpants, the other on the beer bottle. Your face instantly turned red, at least that was what you felt - your cheeks caught fire and there was nothing you could do about it. You tried to finish your point and rushed down the story, leaving the rest of the group a little confused by that abrupt ending.

While the others moved to the living room with the popcorn, you poured yourself a large glass of wine and took a deep sip. You had almost made a fool of yourself, just because this handsome and cocky footballplayer had watched you. You had to be more careful with your thoughts. Didn’t you use to say you had standarts? But did your guts have standarts? You knew, your mind wanted someone smart and classy and interesting. So why did your stomach drop like several floors down at the sight of his stare?

“So we’re here drinking on our own, are we?”

You shrinked at the smooth voice behind you and quickly turned, just to see that it belonged to the guy you were thinking of a second ago. As if he knew he had caught you thinking of him, you blushed again.

“Just making sure the wine’s okay”, you managed to answer and, in a manner you thought to be both ironic and casual, you took another sip from your glass.

“Hmm, may I?”, Griezmann said and reached out for your glass. He took a sip, pointed his lips in an hilarious way and swallowed. “Oh, not bad. Not bad at all. I presume it is dated by the time of Louis XIV himself, for it makes the sun shine on your face.”

You snorted with laughter. “Is this a quote from Shakespeare or something or did you just come up with that yourself?”

With a smirk on his perfect face, he handed you back your glass. “Which possibility would make you think higher of me? Probably the quote, as you’re constantly reading. And what’s your subject again? Philosophy?”

“It is”, you admitted. “But I embrace far more an original new thought, because it’s proof of creativity and independance of thought.”

“Really? I thought you dind’t like new things?”

You blinked. “How come you think that lowly of me?”, you asked and took another nervous sip out of your glass, while you intended it to look casually. He couldn’t be implying your aversion against the new TV or even himself? He couldn’t be that observing, could he? Or was it you that were so blind?

He grinned and watched you thoroughly. “I’m sorry. Maybe I drew the wrong conclusion.”

Now you were angry. Stupid boy, thought he could mock you, while in fact he was the ridicule.

“Maybe I’m just taking my time to judge”, you snapped. “And allowing myself to exclude new things from my life, if I regard them as being intrusive and un...conductive.” Without looking at him you walked past him into the living room, where the movie was already on. You squeezed yourself on the sofa next to Cynthia and tried to look at Orson Welles in “The third man”.

So it hadn’t just been you thinking low of Griezmann. It was him thinking low of you. And if he was thinking low of you, and you thinking low of him, that in fact made you a lot lower than him. A correct philosophical conclusion. 100 percent on that test, you congratulated yourself. But logic wasn’t helpful in that moment.

You looked at the entrance to the kitchen, where Griezmann stood leaning against the door frame, his eyes on the screen.

#antoine griezmann imagine #antoine griezmann one shot #antione griezman fanfic #antoine griezmann x reader #antoine griezmann x OC #football imagine

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winryofresembool · 4 years ago

Text

Things We Lost in the Fire, ch 34

aka Caleo uni au

Chapter summary: At Waystation, please don't ask me what part

A/N: Woop, not as long a wait as earlier! I am kind of surprised that this chapter ended up being easier for me to write than the previous one despite the emotional stuff L&C are talking about in it. But I'm also extremely happy I got it done!

Hmmm, should I say anything else? I guess I just hope you guys enjoy this monster chapter! (almost 5k words, a lot for me) And please, please let me know what you think of this chapter because I really, /really/ want to know!

Words: 4900+

Genre: romance & hurt/comfort

Warnings: none

previous chapter / AO3

...

It took Calypso a while to collect herself after her breakdown. On one hand, she felt bad that she had yelled at Leo like that, especially in front of Georgina. But on the other hand, she felt he had deserved it. When Leo had asked her if something was wrong, she had already been emotional because of the song and the feelings it had made her realize. When she added the frustrations caused by the ‘present incident’ and also her fear for her future and what her father might do to that, she was kind of surprised that she had managed to stay calm even that long.

After she had made sure that the redness on her face had faded a bit and she would be able to speak in a normal tone, she finally joined Leo’s family who had just started preparing the dinner. Leo himself wasn’t present; apparently Festus had been expecting a long Christmas walk, but Calypso still wondered briefly if that was only an excuse. Luckily she did quite enjoy cooking while listening to Jo and Emmie’s stories because that gave her something else to think about.

The dinner guests arrived about an hour later. Among them was a man named ‘Lit’ (Calypso had to raise her eyebrow at the nickname), who apparently took care of an actual living elephant among other things. With him was the ‘Golden Haired Dude’ whom Georgina had mentioned earlier, only he had dyed his hair brown recently. He introduced himself as Lester and he mentioned liking music, which piqued Calypso’s interest but she didn’t have a chance to ask more about it during the dinner. The two had also brought Lester’s young ‘master’ Meg with them. Calypso was still too distraught by the earlier events to really focus on getting to know those people better, but somehow they, especially the two men, seemed to be even louder than Leo was usually. Meg seemed nice, though, and Calypso found out that they shared an interest in gardening. She still noticed wishing that the dinner would be over fast so she could just withdraw into her room and try to calm down a bit.

***

”Alright, what’s going on here?”

Jo and Emmie dragged Leo and Calypso out of the dining room after the dinner. Calypso didn’t understand why; they had managed to behave perfectly neutrally while the guests had been there, at least in her opinion. Well, honestly speaking neither of them had talked much - mostly when they were asked some standard questions like ‘what do you study again?’ - but that was probably for the best. Otherwise Calypso might have said something she would have regretted.

“What do you mean?” Leo asked Jo defensively. “It’s not like I step danced on the dining table or anything like that! We were behaving just fine!”

“Mr. Valdez,” Jo used her most threatening voice, which actually intimidated even Calypso who had gotten used to many kinds of threatening in the past. “In your case that means that something is definitely going on. I have not gone through a single Christmas dinner with you where you haven’t tried to tell at least one of your favorite Santa jokes. And yes, don’t think we have just forgotten what happened this morning.”

“Besides, Calypso’s eyes have been red since this afternoon,” Emmie added. So she had noticed, Calypso sighed in her mind. She had made sure to wash her face carefully with cool water after her little mental breakdown and had even added some concealer under her eyes to hide the redness but of course these two wouldn’t miss a thing.

“And we did notice your glares at the table,” Jo finally finished the chastising.

“Listen, moms.” Leo crossed his arms. “I appreciate you trying to help but this is between Cal and me.”

“Alright,” Jo said. “Then how about you try to deal with it while doing the dishes.”

“Wait, what?” Leo protested. “Georgie needs my help with building the 1000 piece puzzle she got from the neighbors; I promised her I would…”

“Georgina can wait,” Emmie said firmly. “Leo, Calypso is our guest and no matter what your issue is, you two are adults and you should be able to talk it out maturely.”

Calypso had already learned to know the two women well enough to be able to tell that once they had decided something, you wouldn’t be able to change their minds easily. She too did want to protest because this was not how she wanted to do her ‘grand talk’ with Leo, but it seemed rather pointless. They really did need to talk, and the sooner they’d get it done, the sooner they might be able to find some sort of normalcy in their situation. Maybe. Calypso didn’t think their relationship had ever been particularly ‘normal’.

“Alright, we’ll do the dishes,” she said eventually. “But I don’t know what happens after that. I guess it depends.”

“Hmm, I guess we can’t ask more than that,” Emmie nodded. “OK, we’ll leave you two to it. And if anything breaks, remember, you will be replacing it!” she referred to the fancier dinnerware they had been using that day.

“As if I would even dream of breaking your plates,” Leo mumbled when his mothers were already on their way out of the room. Calypso almost snorted at his comment before she remembered that she was mad at him, and simply made a sound that was a bit like a sneeze.

An awkward silence fell in the room once the flatmates were alone.

“Well…” Calypso finally broke it after they had been scrubbing the dishes for several minutes without saying anything.

“Yeah…?”

“Are we going to talk about what happened today or not?” She folded her arms, dropping some soap water on the floor in the process.

“I don’t know, are we?” Leo attempted to provoke her, but he was lacking his usual spunk. When Calypso kept glaring at him, he finally sighed. “Listen. I know I acted like an idiot earlier. What else is new? But the thing is, this day is just… always getting to me. I can’t help it. I know it sounds pathetic, but…”

Leo was stopped by Calypso’s hand around his wrist. “I know what happened to your mother. I mean, the full story. Jo and Emmie told me. What happened was really, really horrible, but that doesn’t excuse you yelling like that when I was only trying to help. You also really made us worry when you ran away like that. I was afraid something was going to happen to you! And when you came back, you were acting like nothing had happened! Can you imagine how frustrated that made me feel?” Nearly tears in her eyes again, she finished. “It made me feel that you don’t care about us!”

“Calypso, calm down! I’m sorry, OK?” Leo raised his voice. “Yeah, I was selfish. And yeah, I shouldn’t have reacted like that. I didn’t think much at that point. I know it doesn’t excuse what I did but let me at least explain why I did what I did before you blow up the whole house.”

“Alright,” Calypso gave in. “Do explain.”

“Every day since my mom died…” Leo started, emphasizing the two first words, “I’ve been feeling guilty about her death. Some days I feel better, but it’s always worse during Christmases. Because that’s when she died.”

Calypso had a feeling that Leo wanted to say more, so she waited quietly, trying to look encouraging.

“This morning, before our present opening, I had a nightmare. Yeah, you probably already guessed what it was about. I saw how the fire started - I had left my blueprints too close to the fireplace and it just… spread - and how the policeman told me my mom had gone inside the house when… when I was lying unconsciously in our backyard. She had been looking for me because she didn’t know I had managed to escape.” He tried to clear his throat but his voice was still cracking when he finished: “My mom was my only family and she died because I was stupid and careless.”

While Calypso and Leo had had plenty of arguments in the past, she had rarely seen him as bitter as when he said those final words. It seemed as if he was in physical pain because he was so angry at himself. She wanted to say something encouraging, but she knew from experience that there was nothing that she could say in a situation like that that could make it better. Kind words didn’t bring the people you loved back. She did, however, try to show with gestures that she understood – she really did – and she moved closer to him, gently putting her hand on his shoulder.

Leo attempted to collect himself for a moment before he continued, blinking his eyes furiously: “It didn’t help me mentally that my aunt was forced to take me in after the fire. You can probably imagine her reaction. “You mutt, you really think you deserve to live after what happened to your mother?” Yeah. That happened. She told that to an 8-year-old boy. I’m almost thankful to her that she did eventually send me to a foster home. Only almost though.”

Calypso remembered his stories of the foster homes he had been in and understood what he meant.

“I hope that this explains why I don’t want to deal with fire now. Not because I’m afraid of the fire itself. But because I’m afraid of what it could do to people I love. So, yeah, that is why I was not thrilled to get those matches on this particular day.”

Calypso had to admit that after hearing the story from Leo himself, his reaction made more sense.

“I’m… sorry. About what happened to you and about the matches. I really picked an awful time to give them to you. But I still wish you had told me all that earlier instead of just waiting to blow up. And I never meant anything hurtful; I didn’t mean you need to use them any time soon… I just wanted to show you that I have faith in you. Because I do!

Leo was quiet for a while.

“Yeah… I know you were only trying to help,” he sighed finally. “I don’t know. I had such a good day yesterday and then one night turned it upside down. It’s not your fault. Some things… just had been building inside me for too long.”

“I know how you feel,” Calypso said quietly.

“You do?” Leo asked.

“Yeah. Um, I think it’s my turn to open up about some things. You told me your story so I should do the same.”

“Okay, go on,” he encouraged, seeming curious even though he was still visibly upset.

Calypso took a moment to decide where to start from. “As you’ve probably noticed, I’ve been battling with some ghosts of my past for a long time now, and this fall has been quite a rollercoaster for me emotionally.”

Leo nodded at her.

“I thought that when I would move out… escape from my father’s mansion… I could just put all that behind me and start from the beginning. And in a way I was able to do that. I do enjoy living here. I like my studies – even though it has been very different compared to what I did at home… sometimes difficult... but I’ve never been one to sit around when I know I have work to do so I. That’s the way I’ve been raised.”

She looked up from her hands. “I’m also really grateful that I’ve met all the wonderful people who have become my friends here. Yeah, believe it or not, you included. But… All that makes my fear even stronger. I’m afraid that it all will be taken from me again.”

Leo frowned. “I don’t understand now. Why would that happen? Is it because of your father? You mentioned something about that once.”

Calypso was on the verge of tears again but she bit her lip and tried to put herself together. “I… I did something awful when I was 16… and my father wants to make sure that no one will ever hear about it.”

“What happened?” Leo asked.

“I… had some… um, relationship issues, for the lack of a better word. My boyfriend of that time had discovered that his previous girlfriend had moved back to New York, and, surprise, he wanted to end our relationship. He wasn’t the first to do that. That’s what always happened. They always had someone who was more important to them than me.” Calypso rubbed her forehead tiredly. “I was pretty down after that because the 16-year-old me thought that no one would care about me.”

Leo looked at her with a ‘that’s bullshit’ kind of expression, but for once he said nothing. She could still see that he had sympathy in his eyes.

“So, one day pretty soon after that guy went back to his ex, I was invited to a party. Most of the people there were a bit older than me so yeah, there was alcohol involved. I was shy and still really upset about what had recently happened to me so I thought that maybe a drink or two would make me feel better. But I drank way more than that because I just wanted to forget about everything for a while. Someone at the party knew my big sister Zoë and thought that it would be the best for me if she’d come to get me home before something bad happened to me. Well, ironically…” Calypso’s vision started blurring as she attempted to finish the sentence. “Zoë would probably still be here if she hadn’t come to pick me up.”

She swiped her face into her hand very ungracefully and sniffed a couple of times before she was able to continue.

“So… she arrived and when we got into the car, she naturally started scolding me. I don’t remember anymore what exactly she said but I know I deserved it. But at that moment I was being an idiot so of course we got into an argument. And she didn’t…” She couldn’t hold the tears in any longer, instinctively searching for support from Leo’s shoulder.

“It’s OK, Cal… You don’t have to tell me more if you don’t want to,” Leo tried to calm her down, awkwardly patting her back.

“Can you hand me some of that paper towel?” she sobbed when she managed to get some words out of her mouth, pointing at the roll on the table. “I must look like a mess.”

Leo attempted to give her an encouraging smile even though Calypso knew that must have been hard because he was probably feeling as bad as she was on the inside.

“R-right, here,” he said and pulled one piece of the paper towel from the roll, handing it to her.

“Thanks,” Calypso mumbled and swept her nose and cheeks into the paper.

“No problem.”

Calypso chuckled at the irony of the situation while she was attempting to dry the last tears. “Why is it that I was the one who was worried about you… and now I’m the one who ended up crying?”

“Guess we’re both pretty messed up,” Leo concluded for her. “But it’s OK. We can… you know… try to support each other?” It was more of a question than a statement, and Calypso assumed Leo was still unsure if she’d let him stay in her life.

“Yeah… maybe we can. But, um… I should finish my story.”

“Take your time.” Leo nodded at her.

“So…” she finally said. “We were fighting. And she got so distracted that she… I mean, neither of us… noticed that there was a car coming really fast from behind a curve and the road was pretty narrow and… before she had time to brake… the car hit us.”

Calypso’s heart was still beating rapidly when she remembered that situation, but taking a couple of deep breaths, she managed to avoid another crying fit. A couple of tears fell on her cheeks but her voice turned angry rather than sad.

“She… she died almost instantly. I don’t know how I got so lucky that I ended up with only a couple of broken bones and bruises. The driver of the other car was injured quite badly but from what I heard, also survived. I bet my father was relieved about that,” she finished bitterly.

“Cal…” Leo tried to say something but she interrupted him.

“If you say your mother’s death was your fault, so was Zoë’s death my fault. She would still be here if I hadn’t messed up at that party. She would still be here if we hadn’t been arguing on the road. So, I know exactly how you feel.”

“Yeah… there are some similarities there…” Leo admitted. “But I don’t think it was your fault. It was an accident.”

“Similarly to what happened to your mom,” Calypso noted.

Leo decided to not continue with that topic. “One question: how does your father have anything to do with this?”

Calypso sighed out of frustration. “I told you once that he basically…” She decided to change her approach. “Um, after that accident he didn’t let me go anywhere anymore, especially unsupervised because if someone had found out that I had something to do with my sister’s death… that would probably have ruined his career. Instead…” she said darkly, “he was able to take advantage of people’s sympathy. ‘Oww, poor Mister Astal… he must have been devastated after such a loss!’ But you know what?! I know… he couldn’t have cared less. The only thing that man cares about is his money and power.”

Calypso noticed that Leo was clenching his jaw. “I… I haven’t even met the guy but I really, really hate him. Trust me, I’d punch him in the face if I happened to meet him. Hard. But honestly, I think he deserves way more than that. He’d deserve…”

Leo proceeded to tell Calypso what exactly he thought her father would deserve, and weirdly enough, somehow that made her feel slightly better. Sure, nothing would ever give her back the years she had lost because of him. But at least she knew she had people on her side, and that was the most she could ask for in her situation.

“Even though I support your plan 100%... which by the way isn’t something I expected to say… I’d prefer it if you never, ever had to meet him.” Calypso shook her head. “I’ve already told you that he is capable of ruining lives if he wants to.”

“And I’ve already told you that I don’t care,” Leo said challengingly.

“Yeah, but I do!” Calypso exclaimed angrily. “How do you think I’d feel if he hurt you, because of me?”

That finally stopped Leo from arguing with her. Maybe he realized that he would feel just as awful if something happened to her.

“Okay. I won’t be hunting him down right now. But I’m still sticking to what I said after the Halloween party. If he ever does anything to you, know that I will help you. No matter what it costs.” Calypso looked at him with awe. No one had told her before that they’d be willing to risk so much for her sake.

“Why… why would you do that for me?” she whispered.

Fire was burning in Leo’s eyes. Maybe because he was angry… maybe for some other reason too. Before Calypso could prepare herself, he announced without hesitation:

“Because I love you, Cal! It’s as simple as that!”

There. The words Calypso had been both hoping and dreading to hear were out now, and there was no way to take them back. She couldn’t say she was completely surprised by his confession after everything that had happened since Halloween, but still… to hear him say it aloud… it still felt different than just knowing that it might be the case. Only a few hours earlier she herself had come to accept the fact that her own feelings were deeper than just some regular crush, and now this… She felt extremely overwhelmed.

“Don’t say that,” Calypso mumbled, not able to look him in the eyes at that moment. “I’ve heard people tell that to me before… and they’ve never meant it…”

“Yeah, but I do!” Leo kept insisting. “You should know me well enough by now to know that I don’t say things I don’t mean!”

Finally, Calypso lifted her eyes from her hands to Leo’s face. He was watching her with a dead serious expression, but at closer look she noticed that there was also a certain softness, gentleness in his eyes. The kind that made her knees feel weak.

“I know that,” she said quietly, and before she could stop herself, she stepped closer to Leo and took the towel he had been using to dry the dishes from his hands and threw it on the table. Her heart was racing and she felt a bit shaky, but she moved even closer, leaving only a couple of centimeters between them. Before she progressed from there, though, she very lightly brushed his cheek with her thumb, stopping at the corner of his lip, to let him know of her intentions. For a moment he just stared at her dumbfounded before nodding slightly while blushing furiously, and that was the only sign she needed. Moving both of her hands to the sides of his face, she rose on her tiptoes and kissed him fully on the mouth.

Calypso still remembered how the kisses she had previously experienced had often felt like the other one had been in a rush to get somewhere, possibly out of his real love interest’s sight. But this time was different. When their lips touched, Leo froze for one moment (Calypso hoped it was because he was thinking ‘whoa, can’t believe this is happening!’ and not because he was horrified), but he quickly recovered from that and responded, at first slowly, lightly, but when she kept encouraging him, he got more eager. Before he got ahead of himself, though, he stopped and looked at her straight into eyes as if to ask if it was OK. That was how Calypso knew that he wanted this just as much as she did.

“Keep going,” she whispered, and Leo did what he was told to do. He pressed his lips firmly against hers and sunk his fingers into her hair, sending sparks down Calypso’s spine. Warmth spread through her entire body when he tilted her head slightly to get better access to her lips and deepened the kiss. She was surprised by how soft his lips felt against her mouth (for some reason when she had been picturing this situation – which, yes, had happened more than once, she had to admit to herself – she had imagined them a bit rough, like his hands) and she felt a little light headed as Leo’s tongue gently poke her lips to ask her to part them. She happily reciprocated and discovered he tasted like the gingerbread cookies she and Georgina had baked, which probably meant he had liked them.

Even though Calypso would have liked it to continue longer, soon they needed to break away to get some air. Her face was red, she was panting and somehow her hair had also gotten messy in the process, but she didn’t care. Why would she when she felt loved possibly for the first time in her life? Leo was looking at her gently and she wanted to reach in and continue from where they were left off, but before that she felt she needed to say something.

“Don’t tell your mothers that happened,” she mumbled while resting her head against his shoulder, trying to sound serious but knowing she was failing.

“Don’t worry, I wouldn’t dream of it.” Leo stopped stroking her hair when she lifted her head from his shoulder to see his expression. Leo’s eyes were so unlike they had only been about 15 minutes earlier when Jo and Emmie had ‘forced’ them to talk. Back then they had looked almost black and emotionless, but now they were back to the lighter chocolate brown Calypso was used to, sparkling happily at her comment. It made her very relieved to see him like that; she must have done something right after all.

“Good.” She nodded and looked at him expectantly. Leo picked up the hint, but instead of kissing her right away, he lifted her on a kitchen cabinet so she wouldn’t have to stand on her tiptoes (not that Leo was tall; Calypso was just that short). Calypso rolled her eyes at the gesture, but when Leo took her face into his hands, she forgot all about it and leaned in for another kiss. Unfortunately, this time they hadn’t taken into account that there was a cupboard right behind Calypso’s head so when they started leaning more backwards as the kiss got more heated, she hit her head against it. “Oh great, of course when I finally get to kiss the girl this would happen,” he rubbed the back of his neck and looked apologetic, but Calypso just chuckled.

“Don’t worry about it. Maybe it was a good reminder for us that there would probably be better places to do this than the kitchen of your parents’ home.”

“Yeah, maybe…” Leo had to agree. Before Calypso got off the cabinet, though, she pressed a light kiss on his forehead. She didn’t know why she did that; it just felt good at that moment.

When she pulled away from him, Leo asked, sounding a bit unsure: “So… does that mean that you love me too?”

Calypso shook her head, kind of amused that this boy who could figure out a really difficult math question within minutes was so unsure about her feelings. “What do you think, idiot?”

“I don’t know… I still wasn’t entirely convinced by those kisses,” he attempted to joke but quickly received a fist on his arm. “Ow! That hurt!”

“Not a good moment to joke,” Calypso stated.

“Fine, sorry,” Leo said while rubbing his arm.

“You are lucky that I happen to love you.” Calypso stuck her tongue out at him, but before he had time to say anything, she took his hand and squeezed it reassuringly.

“Yeah. I am,” Leo said, completely seriously this time. “But how did we get to this point from my… um, issues anyway?”

Now that Leo mentioned it, Calypso realized it was a valid question. It felt like everything she had felt that fall had been squeezed into a very small package and then suddenly just popped open. But she also felt relieved that they had finally managed to speak up about what was bothering them.

“I don’t know, to be honest,” she replied. “But I’m kind of glad that Jo and Emmie closed us here.”

“Yeah. Me too,” Leo agreed.

“Listen…” Calypso kept her eyes on their intertwined hands. “I don’t know what is going to happen. You know, with my father and everything. But you made me realize that I can’t just give up without a fight. That I can’t get what I want if I don’t try. So I’ve decided… I want to try this… us… if that’s what you want as well.”

“Are you crazy? I’d be the stupidest guy on earth to say no to you,” Leo said dramatically. “Even though this will sound cheesy as hell, I’ve noticed that I’m happier when I spend time with you. You know, just cooking, chilling, whatever. So, I’m thinking… Maybe together we will also be able to kick our issues’ asses. I will be working on getting over my fear. And… I guess I will also have to try harder to open up… about my past and all that… It probably isn’t always gonna be easy but hey, feel free to call me out if you need to.”

“You bet I will, Leo Valdez.” Calypso smiled at him, a real, genuine smile. “And I too will do my best to talk about what’s bothering me more. I realize now that I should have done it way earlier.”

“We are some stubborn idiots, huh?” Leo gave her a lopsided smile.

“Yeah.”

“Um, so… just to be clear… What do we tell the others? About… us?” Leo asked after a while.

“I’m thinking… maybe it would be better if we don’t tell everyone quite yet. I’ve had a lot of bad experiences in the past as you know so I’d prefer to keep it just between us for a while. You know, just to make sure that… nothing goes wrong.”

“Alright, that’s fair enough,” Leo agreed. “Although, nothing stays a secret from my family for a long time. It’s like they’re psychics or something.”

Calypso chuckled. “Can’t disagree with you on that. I swear that I’ve known them for a few days and they already know more about me than I do.”

“You’ll get used to it, though,” Leo reassured her.

“Hopefully so. Well… what should we do now?” Calypso asked tentatively.

“They’re probably expecting us to be done with the dishes by now…” Leo glanced at the clock on the wall. “But… I guess one more kiss won’t hurt?”

“I would hope so,” Calypso said and reached for him, pressing another kiss to his mouth.

#caleo #leo valdez #calypso #heroes of olympus #percy jackson and the olympians #trials of apollo #my fics #caleo uni au

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pinkysfaultorbrainsfault · 5 years ago

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animaniacs - season 1 episode 38 - spellbound

episode summary: inexplicably stuck in camelot times, brain tries to get the ingredience for a magic spell that allows the caster to take over the world. this episode has no relation to the other camelot episode and i don't... know why.

the rundown: we begin our episode with the assertion that this is England in 1194. at this point in history, everyone from fire emblem 16 has grown up and is gay married, but we're not focusing on them right now. we're going to camelot and asking about their round table.

lol.

anyway after we see this creepy spider do whatever he's doing, we meet... merlin, i guess.

my dude??? he looks different. did you go on queer eye, merlin? whatever. he technically doesn't say he's merlin, so... maybe he's the other guy? the older guy? who's like merlin's dad?

this fucker. is he in the original king arthur? idk man i only watch cartoons. anyway he is casting a spell and it is very important. important enough to require components from yoko ono, apparently. like she hasn't suffered on this show enough.

but who do we have here?

"mouse" as my flatmate elegantly put it when he walked past the tv room to get a water. but even better than mouse??? mouse in SHORTS. MOUSE IN SHORTS MOUSE IN SHORTS??? MOUSE IN SHORTS. MOUSE IN SHORTS LOOK AT HIS LITTLE LEGYS MOUSE IN SHORTS MOUSE IN. SHORTS MOUSE IN SHORTS. MOUSE IN SHORTS.

YES.

pinky is not wearing shorts, which is incredibly disappointing. he's wearing some sort of sleeveless shirt dress tunic thing in an awful colour that someone like kanye west or justin bieber probably sells on their merch store for like a thousand dollars. he got the yeezy fit, damn. despite the designer status of his clothes, his bedroom eyes still do not convince me.

"i wish i was a windowsill so i could be--! ah. um."

"an imbecile?"

"ah! haha good rhyme, brain!" the bop of the century. kanye west sells the "windowsill" remix in vinyl on his online store for an additional fifty dollars.

after naming a few more celebrities ("I win, you win, edwin newman") the cauldron explodes in a puff of green smoke! and we get!

a pie. “lo!” he cries. “i’ve made a nice pie.”

hm. pinky is impressed. brain is uh. i think he mentally checked out? whatever he's doing i cannot stop fucking laughing at it. i actually had to put this post on pause for longer than anticipated because brain’s stupid face got to me. i’m so sorry. i started writing this at like 11pm gmt on the 11th and it just didn’t get to y’all in time because of brain’s stupid fucking face.

i’m sorry. brain is less impressed and declares it a “waste of magic”, and that he “would never squander such mystical powers over mere pastry.”

“poit. but what if you were eating dinner and you forgot dessert?”

“maybe then.”

but there is trouble afoot! Old Man Merlin has realised that king arthur will want some of his pie, and decides he’d better eat it in the dungeon so that doesn’t happen.

brain takes this opportunity to look through Old Man Merlin’s big book of spells. he “will use merlin’s magic to take control of the world” and then we get another nice closeup of his funny little face.

i don’t know why animaniacs was so keen on doing this? does it happen this much in the reboot? it feels like every episode we stare brain down to assert dominance.

“oh, no, no. where will you find a magic spell for that?”

“in the table of contents, pinky.”

“oh, well, very good.”

(the table of contents also contains a spell to “win at blackjack”, next to the taking over the world spell. brain considers this, for a moment, and then decides now is probably not the time.)

so good thing they have all the components for the magic spell, eh? including the Half Eaten Gingerbread Cookie That’s Been Left On The Counter All Night.

hmm.

oh, wait, no they don’t. turns out they’re fresh out of red dragon toenails, so brain’s solution to this problem is just to... go and get more, which is obviously a thing people do. they have to cross the enchanted forest to do that. it has witches and stuff. pinky rightfully points out that that is a lot of danger to overcome, and brain gets his stealing-the-minivan vibes back and nicks Old Man Merlin’s magic wand. he only knows one spell, but that won’t stop him.

the first obstacle they have to cross is the gingerbread house owned by... witch hazel from looney tunes. she’s a lot less annoying here than in bugs bunny lost in time, and informs brain that she is “waiting for pudgy german children.” instead of taking her suggestion to “get outta here”, brain magics her ass.

charlie sheen, ben vereen, shrink to the size of a lima bean.

they do get their ass handed to them by aforementioned pudgy german children, but then the german children decide that the mice have syphillis and yeet them in the general direction of slappy squirrel, who is here now.

she starts an argument with the goodfeathers, who are also here now, and brain takes it as their cue to leave.

but never mind all that! good thing there’s a handy bridge over this stream!

unfortunately, the bridge likes to spawn Giant Purple Hands That Kidnap Goats, so brain concludes they should cross said bridge using Stealth. unfortunately pinky drops the wand on the source of the Giant Purple Hands, and it is... relatively unhappy.

so brain pulls out the old “ charlie sheen, ben vereen, shrink to the size of a lima bean” again.

i did definitely think the troll was going to kick him in the crotch. i was very much sure of this, actually. instead it yeets him into rita and runt and fucks off.

“for goodness sake boxy” i hear you cry, “aren’t they at the dragon yet! this review has lasted a good twenty years of scrolling down my dashboard!” and i hear you, and you’re right, but the first thing you need to understand is; pinky has spent this whole episode singing. that little guitar he has? he has spent the whole episode replicating windowsill. “we’re in the woods so dark and stinky, to conquer the world, go brain and--” and then he forgets his name and brain has to remind him that it’s pinky. or remind him of his own name, or suggest like, steam to rhyme with stream. that is the running gag of this episode, and it is very important, at this stage, that you know that. pinky has not, as of yet, stopped singing and playing the lute.

so even though they make it to the dragon pretty mucn unscathed (aside from brain getting sat on by a giant, but i won’t go into that unless y’all specifically want details) pinky just has to have his little song in order to keep the dragon asleep.

and then brain yells at him for forgetting the word “sandman”, which breaks the toenail off completely,

and also wakes up the dragon, which can’t be good. it’s not happy! it was growing its’ nails out for paris fashion week.

brain tries his best to rectify this situation.

“charlie sheen, ben vereen--!”

charlie sheen and ben vereen are dead. i’m sorry to have to tell you. they shrunk down so much they got stuck in the quantum zone from antman and the wasp. someone should probably do something about that.

anyway the mice decide to hightail it back to Old Man Merlin’s.

conclusion:

spoilies: they do make it back in one piece. i won’t detail the whole chase scene because it’s just a bunch of running, because the post is long enough already, and also because tumblr has eaten it three fucking times and i could basically type all this in my sleep now. the things i do for y’all. donate to the wavemaiden.

so pinky shoves all the ingredients into the pot, while brain finds The Take Over The World Spell. the dragon is harassing them this whole time, which feels unfair.

“listen carefully, pinky. i need to recite this spell exactly, and once i start i cannot stop. so i need you to be extra quiet, okay?”

“sure thing, brain.”

this lasts for approximately five minutes.

“brain’s the boss! he’ll rule with ease!”

“mystical powers, your might unfurled, grant that i become--”

“he’s the one! the big, erm. banana?”

“cheese!” yells brain, who has given up entirely by this point. “it rhymes with ease! big! cheese!”

hm.

“are you alright, brain?”

“i feel. odd.”

this is an interesting development.

so brain is cheese now! cool. i guess they have to wait for merlin to get back from Pie Heaven and turn him back, somehow? with his spare wand or whatever. this is definitely pinky’s fault, because brain did ask him to stay quiet for a bit surprisingly nicely (in brain terms) and he... did not. and now brain is a cheese.

on the other hand, this would probably work again if they tried it again, once merlin goes back to pick up some more toenails.

brain: 2 pinky: 3 outside influence: 5

“can i get you anything, brain? some medicine? a cracker?”

“were i not a large cheese, i would make you pay for that remark.”

#patb #animaniacs #pinky and the brain #a!#tumblr has now eaten this four times.#this time i saved the html though.#anyway sorry this took so long the heatwave is making everyone tired xnx

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childofthenight2035 · 5 years ago

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Emergency Contact

A/N: omfg I've been working on this since June I hate myself so much but anyway this was requested by @tydontstop here you go I may not be done yet~

yay it’s my birthday

Genre: Fluff, Angst, Flatmate!AU

Pairing: Jackson Wang x gn!Reader

Summary: When you found a new flatmate, neither of you knew that you’ve been passing by each other by the finest thread.

Word Count: 12k

Warnings: mentions of death, coma, car accidents, depression

The hospital receptionist’s face fell when she caught sight of Jackson walking in. Her face twisted in pity, but the boisterous arrival didn’t seem to notice.

“Good morning, Yeeun-ssi!” He greeted cheerfully, sliding his visitor’s pass across the front desk. “I ran late yesterday so I couldn’t make it.”

Yeeun seemed to be holding in an ocean of sorrow as she pushed the card back to him. “I’m sorry, sir.”

Jackson’s eyes narrowed in confusion. “What do you mean, sorry? For wh-“ He fell silent, gazing at Yeeun, who couldn’t seem to meet his eyes. “No,” he breathed out. “That can’t be.”

“I tried calling you yesterday, sir,” she pleaded. “If only it was just a day later…” She shook her head sadly. Fate was cruel.

Could I have said goodbye? Jackson thought.

“How did he…?”

“They…they pulled the plug.”

You opened your eyes to the jarring sound of your alarm, wishing more than anything else that you were dreaming and it wasn’t yet morning. But no. When did things ever go your way? Blindly reaching out, you smashed the snooze button.

Groaning, you pushed away covers that weren’t even there. In the heat, you had kicked off the thin blanket you draped over yourself anyway—again.

It was only morning, but you could already feel the humidity beginning to cling to your skin. How you wished you could fall back onto the mattress and drift off. The silence of the apartment reminded you of another thing, however—the poster you had drawn up the previous night: an advertisement for a flatmate. You really needed some noise and movement to distract you, especially after last month. Why did Dahyun have to move out?

The alarm began beeping again.

You had to get to work.

Saturdays at the library were always a sort of hassle. There were more children and their misinformed parents over the weekend than any other day. Of course there were some absolute darlings who loved to read and could sit for hours on end with their noses in a book or two. But on the other hand…

You sighed as you pushed open the door of the public library, eyes adjusting to the dim light. Before you could make it to the counter where you would be stationed for the day, you were stopped abruptly by a rather raucous child dashing across your path.

…On the other hand, those darlings always had siblings that had no interest in developing the skill of reading at all. Little rascals who came there only by force and chose to make as much noise as they could get away with.

You pursed your lips, staring distastefully at the runaway before walking swiftly over to the bulletin board. Slipping the notice for a flatmate out of your pocket, you pinned it to the board, then plopped down at the counter, depositing your backpack under the desk.

“Good morning, Y/N!” your co-worker Daniel chirped.

“Good morning, Daniel,” you replied dully, scooting your chair subtly away from him. You really didn’t have his energy at the moment. You loved the guy, but it was a little grieving to hear about his girlfriend twenty-four seven. To your relief, someone approached him at that moment, pulling his attention off of you.

There were quite the number of high schoolers despite it being a weekend, you noticed. Ah. There’s a reading room that the high schoolers are doing today, huh? Your gaze swept around the seating area to your left. A familiar face caught your eye.

What’s Jinyoung sunbae doing over here? Is he reading to the kids, too? He was sitting with someone you couldn’t see because their back was to you. They seemed to be in some sort of deep discussion. You weren’t worried. Anyone who came to the library with Park Jinyoung was sure to be just as much of a bookworm.

“Y/N!” You jumped at your supervisor’s voice, tearing your eyes away from your senior and looking up. Your supervisor tilted her head toward a cart full of books. “Be a dear and put these back, won’t you? I’ll man the desk for a bit.”

You bit back a curse, choosing instead to nod and leap up. You’d have to dodge some more kids but at least you could get away from Daniel’s overwhelming energy and rude ‘I-have-a-late-fee-but-I-have-no-intention-of-paying-it-off-quietly-I’d-rather-annoy-you-for-a-solid-ten-minutes-before-doing-just-that’ people.

“Jackson, I swear to every god there is, if you don’t find a place to live by the end of the weekend, I’m kicking you out. You can sleep on the streets.” Jackson flinched a little at Jinyoung’s sharp threat, but still pouted to lessen the impact—in vain; Jinyoung hadn’t even glanced up from his book to say all that. Some people didn’t even need eye contact to be intimidating.

“In this heat? Why, Jinyoungieee,” Jackson whined, dragging out his name. No effect. Park gae didn’t move. “Where will I go?”

“If you hadn’t dropped out, you could be staying at the dorms—legally,” Jinyoung remarked. “I’m not risking any more trouble sneaking you in.” Before Jackson could whine his name again, he continued. “Where’s JB hyung? Aren’t you always with him?”

Jackson chewed on the inside of his cheek, wondering how much he should tell Jinyoungie—or rather, wondering how much he already knew. “Uhh…we kinda stopped talking to each other for a while…”

This made Jinyoung look up from the page he was reading, eyes narrowing. “You fought?”

Jackson twitched his shoulders. “Not exactly. Just…” Thankfully, Jinyoung didn’t force him to elaborate, only shooting him a look that said he would definitely be interrogated about it later. “And then hyung went to Japan, remember?”

“But he came back.” Jinyoung was biting his lip in confusion. Funny how anything related to JB hyung made him a million times more attentive.

“He did. But…”

“Now you feel awkward going and begging for living space when you haven’t contacted him in so long?”

Jackson scratched the back of his neck. How the heck does Jinyoungie talk so accurately? “Sure. You could put it that way.”

Jinyoung sighed, sitting up and closing his book. “Do you really think JB hyung feels that way? I know he’s scary when he’s mad, but he still cares about you, hyung. Go and see him. It’ll be fine.”

“But hyung’s so busy and he doesn’t have that much room…and he has his cats…”

Jinyoung tilted his head, thinking. “Well. That’s true. Then what are you going to do?” Jackson could only shrug in defeat, staring around the library without seeing what he was looking at—a staff member putting books back on the shelves…kids running around…Jinyoungie picking at the corner of his book mindlessly…general peace.

Wordlessly, Jinyoung stood to check out the book he had been reading. Jackson followed.

“Hello again, Jinyoung hyung!” the boy at the counter said brightly.

“Hey, Daniel. How are your classes going?”

Jackson totally zoned out on the interaction between the two. Maybe I shouldn’t have dropped out in the first place, he thought. He hadn’t realized how deeply he’d gone imagining the life he could have led until he felt Jinyoung smacking his arm hard.

“Jackson!” he exclaimed, more forcefully, pointing to something. The bulletin board. More specifically, an ad pinned to the board.

An ad for a flatmate. Not too far from here.

“Seems like your lucky day, huh?” Jinyoung clapped him on the shoulder, taking a picture of it at the same time. “Go there today. You really don’t have much of an option.”

Jackson groaned.

“Fine.”

The doorbell ringing brought you out of your stupor. Hastily placing the photograph back on your bedside table and wiping your face off with a nearby towel, you made your way to the front door.

Now, you had seen nearly everyone who came by your place looking absolutely wrecked, but it still took you aback every time. You eyed the panting young man who stood outside your door in pity. Perhaps he thought he would have a few more seconds to catch his breath. You wondered how long he had been standing there before he rang the bell.

Fuck the standard questions. “Are you okay?”

He raised a hand and nodded, drawing one last breath and stabling himself. “Yeah. I’m good.”

“It’s quite a climb, isn’t it?”

He nodded. A beat passed in silence and then he seemed to remember why exactly he had rung your bell. “Ah!” he exclaimed, pulling out his phone. “Is this…?”

He turned it around, showing you the screen. You squinted at it, taking the phone in your hand. It was a chat in which someone had sent him the picture of your poster and a message under it—‘pls make a good impression for once’. You pressed your lips together to stifle your amusement—and then you saw the contact who had sent him the text.

“JYP?” You yelped, looking at the man in front of you in awe. “You know JYP?” He snatched his phone back in embarrassment.

“I—That’s a friend,” he said hastily. “He goes to SIU. I just call him that because he has the same name.”

That sounded familiar. “Wait, Park Jinyoung? You’re friends with him?”

Jackson hesitated. “Yeah…you know him?”

You smiled. “I go to SIU, too. He’s my senior. Who doesn’t know him?”

“Oh…that’s cool!” he replied, his face brightening. “I’ll definitely bring him around—if you accept me as your flatmate?”

Ah, so that’s what’s happening here. You crossed your arms, fighting a smile. “Are you already bribing me? I can’t believe you. I already have half a mind to not let you live here.”

His smile fell. “What? Whyy?” He didn’t hide the whine that escaped him.

Aw, that’s cute. “I’m kidding. If you’re a friend of Jinyoung sunbae, I’m guessing you’re a good guy.”

He frowned. “I’m sure that should be the other way, but it’s fine. I’m not arguing. Kinda desperate, here. Do you want me to, like, call Jinyoungie for you? To “affirm my credibility” or whatever?” He made air quotations.

You laughed it off, gesturing that he didn’t need to. He seems like a good guy. Maybe I won’t have to search any longer.

“I’m Jackson, by the way,” he suddenly spoke, looking sheepish. “Forgot to introduce myself.”

“Ah. I’m Y/N. And I’m desperate, too.” You sighed, blowing your hair off your face. “Do you know how glad I am that I rejected the guy who showed up before you? What a douchebag.”

A look of concern flashed across his face. “Someone came before me? Did he, like, try to hurt you or something? You’re okay?”

And he’s already concerned about me. I really really hope he doesn’t end up an asshole.

“I’m perfectly fine. Let’s talk splitting rent.”

“That’s the last of it,” Jackson announced.

You stood aside as his friend (Namjoon, was it?) dumped the two boxes he was carrying onto the floor, utterly exhausted. You couldn’t blame him. The two had been walking up and down the four flights of stairs with Jackson’s possessions all morning. You had helped, of course. But they weren’t used to climbing four floors.

“That better be the last, you jerk,” Namjoon spat. “When you said, ‘let’s hang out’, I didn’t think you meant this.” He wiped the sweat off his brow with his sleeve.

“I’ll pay you back for this, man.” Jackson patted his shoulder. “Let me buy you meat tonight.” His friend looked suspiciously at him but relented. You bowed him out.

To be honest, you hadn’t realized how short Jackson was compared to a lot of other people until Namjoon was standing beside him. Although you supposed Namjoon was just a giant. But still.

“I’m so tired,” Jackson whined, flopping down onto his mattress.

“Good,” you retorted, kneeling down to face him. “When you’re tired, you listen better. There is a rule in this household: you’re not allowed in my room.”

Jackson gasped, exaggerating his reaction. “Are you a dictator now? Rules? Will I be chucked into jail if I don’t obey? Do I have to go into hiding?”

You rolled your eyes. “I literally only said you weren’t allowed in my room at any cost. Isn’t that a reasonable request? You can make your own rules, too. No one’s stopping you.”

“Nah.” He shrugged. “You can come into my room, I don’t really mind. Nothing in here anyway.” He turned his eyes on you, narrowing them. “What are you hiding? Please don’t tell me you’re harbouring a fugitive in there.”

“Oh my gosh, no.” You stood up again. “I just want my privacy. My old flatmate respected it, so I expect you to as well. Okay? I’ll respect yours if you respect mine.”

He nodded. “I know. I’m just kidding. Are you always so uptight?” You frowned at the goofy expression on his face. “I promise I won’t go into your room.” He seemed sincere enough.

Maybe he wouldn’t be so bad…

“JACKSON!” you shouted, pounding on the wall that divided your bedroom from his. “KEEP IT THE FUCK DOWN!” If the volume went down at all, you couldn’t tell. Weary from lack of sleep for the past week or so, you rolled over and squinted at the time on your phone.

“Three thirty-four,” you muttered furiously. “THREE THIRTY-FOUR!”

And then the doorbell rang. And it rang again.

“Nobody ever does anything in this house,” you said loudly while forcing yourself up off the bed, half-hoping Jackson would hear it. But of course he wouldn’t. The amount of noise that was emanating from his room made sure of that.

The ringing became quite insistent and when you yanked the door open, wondering who on earth it wouldn’t be, you came face to face with Mr. Ok, the next-door neighbor. A tall man in his thirties, you had always found him quite the character—and you would’ve thought his pajamas and bedhead looked cute if it wasn’t for the expression of pure murder on his face.

“Oh…Mr. Ok,” you greeted with a hesitant bow.

“What the bloody hell is going on here?” he nearly spat, hands balling into fists that you knew he wouldn’t hesitate to use if he snapped. “Don’t you know we’re all trying to sleep?”

You winced. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Ok, I’ve been trying to get Jackson to quiet down for a while, but he’s not listening—“

“Where is he?” He growled, stepping inside without invitation. You jumped at the chance of getting Mr. Ok himself to threaten Jackson. You led him gleefully to your flatmate’s door. After pounding on it for a solid minute, in which the noise levels dropped completely, the door opened to reveal Jackson lazily yawning—clearly expecting you to be standing there. His features rapidly rearranged themselves to a politer expression.

“Ah, hyung!” he exclaimed. “What a surprise!”

Hyung? you questioned wordlessly. Since when has he become so chummy with Mr. Ok?

“Surprise, huh?” Mr. Ok hissed, eyes daggers. “What the hell are you doing, making so much noise?” It seemed to be rhetorical, because he didn’t give Jackson a chance to answer. “I have to get up at six, as do many people in this establishment. A lot of them have to go to work, or school, and a lot of them have families to take care of. I’m aware you have no such commitments—perks of being unemployed, I suppose—“ Jackson’s face twisted slightly. “—but that doesn’t mean you’re allowed to do whatever you want. When you live in close proximity with a lot of people, you have to learn to be considerate of others. Forget others, you live with a flatmate. At least be considerate to them!”

Jackson didn’t answer. You assumed he was still stinging over the ‘unemployed’ comment.

Mr. Ok didn’t even try to soothe his harsh words before he stormed out, slamming the door behind him. He must have been tolerating it for longer than he let on.

You crossed your arms and smiled smugly at your flatmate. “I hope you’ve learned your lesson.”

And just like that, his meek façade vanished, to be replaced by a pout. “But I wanted to finish the drama! I need the theatre effect to watch it, otherwise it’s just boring!”

You threw your hands up in the air and groaned, deciding it would be better for your health to just lock the door and then yourself in your bedroom.

Jackson was a mistake. One that you sorely regretted.

In the barely two months that you two began living together, you had learned one thing: Jackson was a force that was very much unstoppable. You would get burned if you so much as dared to try.

You could make a list—hell, you could write a book about the things he did that pissed you off. Was it your problem? Maybe. But it was clear enough that Jackson had certainly never learned how to adjust with people who weren’t on the same energy level as him.

He was loud. Point made. He was boisterous, always moving around, practically bouncing from room to room. You often restrained from asking him what gave him the right to look so damn happy. Perhaps you were just jealous. Your classes had begun again, and while you were working your ass off and burning the midnight oil just to keep your grades up, Mr. Unemployed seemed to be having the time of his life. Where did he even get the money to pay his rent off?

More than once, or even eight times, you had walked into the bathroom to find water literally everywhere—on the toilet seat, around the sink, on the floor, even on the walls. You couldn’t possibly imagine what he was even doing that made the entire damn place wet. He played music at night, loudly, with no regard for your wellbeing and the neighbours’. The nights he came home tipsy were even worse. And now he was watching a drama, it seemed. In full theatre mode.

The one rule you had—of him not being allowed to enter your room—had now expanded into a full three-page document, taped to the wall between your bedrooms.

You remembered how concerned he was about making a good impression in the first couple of weeks. He had even brought his friend Park Jinyoung around to meet you, as promised. Now you understood the pity in his eyes that day. He’d known things would get worse. You still got embarrassed when he sought you out in the cafeteria to ask how you were and if Jackson was giving you a hard time.

Maybe you should take Jinyoung sunbae up on that offer he made.

The breaking point came soon after.

It was a Thursday night and you’d just finished an essay due the day after, one that you’d been working on for the past week. So you were already running on barely three hours on sleep a day. It was past midnight, and Jackson still wasn’t home. He was probably lying drunk somewhere. As much as you wished you could just go to sleep and leave him to his own devices, you knew damn well that if he did show up, he would likely leave the door wide open and drool all over the couch.

You weren’t about to get robbed just because of Jackson’s bad decisions.

After calling him yet again and hearing no dial tone, you tossed your phone onto the dining table and waited with your head in your arms.

“I’m not drunk, Markipooh!” A loud exclamation, followed by someone shushing the voice sounded outside your door.

You swung it open, looking pissed enough for Mark—Jackson’s go-to designated driver and body hauler—to look ashamed.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “You know I can’t control Jackson.”

“I’m not drunk, though?” Said man slurred, collapsing into a chair.

“Thanks, Mark.” You sighed bitterly. “Go home.”

As the door closed, Jackson lifted his head and repeated, “I’m not drunk, though.”

“Oh, really?” you snapped, raising your voice. “Then listen to this: I’m not your fucking servant or something, just waiting for my master to come home so I can attend to you! I’m a student and I have a shit ton of work to do and just because you are so useless you can’t find a job doesn’t mean I have to suffer for it!”

Fury dashed across his face. Seizing the first thing he saw on the table, he threw it with all his might at the wall behind you, where it shattered and fell sadly to the floor. You tensed, fear coursing through you, trembling as he came closer.

“Fucking shut up, I already have a headache.”

And then he was gone, leaving behind nothing but the stench of alcohol. His door slammed.

Silence.

You slid to the floor, stunned. How could things have gone so wrong?

With shaking hands and a pounding heart, you felt around for your phone. The screen was cracked beyond repair, glass scattered all around you. What did you expect, that it would survive being thrown against a wall with Jackson’s muscle?

Enough, you decided. Enough was enough. He has to go.

And if you cried yourself to sleep that night against the dining room wall, nobody had to know.

“Y/N!”

You didn’t even think that anyone would be actually calling your name. So you didn’t stop. The entire day had you fuming internally, and you didn’t think anyone deserved to hear your outburst.

“Y/N!”

You halted. Normally you would be absorbed in your phone, but today you didn’t have it. Of course you didn’t. After last night, you didn’t even think it was safe to. You turned when you sensed the person—what did you mean, person, of course it was Park Jinyoung—catch up to you. If you were in your right mind at the moment, you might be a mildly blushing mess. Who wouldn’t be? It was Park fucking Jinyoung. But now? You were five point three centimeters from losing your temper completely and you couldn’t help but resent him for being friendly with you now when two months ago, he didn’t know your name, despite being your senior.

You sighed, turning around to face him. “Yes, sunbae?”

If he was taken aback by your slight rudeness, he didn’t show it. “I tried calling Jackson yesterday and this morning, and he didn’t pick up. He okay?”

You pursed your lips. “I couldn’t care less about Jackson, sunbaenim. You know my address, if you’re so concerned, why don’t you go and see how he is?” You scoffed and made to turn away, but Jinyoung caught your arm.

“Whoa, what’s with the attitude?” He teased, pulling you along with him down the hall and into the student council’s meeting room, currently empty. “You okay? What did he do?”

A little comforted that he immediately assumed his friend did something wrong, you slumped your shoulders. “A lot happened.”

“Clearly.” He leaned against the president’s desk and folded his arms. You didn’t know if he was analyzing you or not. Your face flushed under his gaze.

“He went out and came back drunk beyond words,” you explained, irritated at the memory. “And maybe I shouldn’t have, but I yelled at him saying that I wasn’t his servant to wait or clean up after him and—” you broke off, hesitating. “I might have told him off for not having a job.”

Jinyoung winced. “He’s pretty touchy about that.”

“Yeah, I figured.” You let out a bitter sigh. “He smashed my phone.”

“Wait, what?” Jinyoung lifted himself off the desk, looking at you in disbelief. “He—he smashed your phone? Jackson Wang?” You nodded, spreading your arms out.

“That’s why I don’t have it today. The screen shattered.”

Jinyoung looked genuinely disturbed. “It’s not like Jackson to lose his temper like that.”

You didn’t want excuses made for him, even if he had been drunk. “Oh, really? Pray, do tell.”

“Y/N—”

“Why? What did I do? Am I wrong?” If your eyes were daggers, Jinyoung would be bleeding now. “Tell me, sunbaenim. Am I just a maid to him?” You bit the inside of your cheek and spoke the words you had been contemplating all night. “I want to say yes to your offer, but he’s going to get kicked out soon. The nieghbours are already blacklisting him. If they tell him to leave, I won’t be able to hold any ground by myself.”

He seemed at a loss for words, appalled by both Jackson’s and your behavior. “Listen, I’ll talk to him, okay?” He checked his watch. “You should get to class.”

What’s the point? You thought, but conceded anyway. Just before you closed the door, you heard him call your name.

“And no, Y/N,” he said, a tight smile on his lips, “you’re not wrong. Give me your phone number.”

You refused to return home that day, choosing to stay all night in the library—until Jinyoung met up with you and nearly begged you to go back to your apartment.

“I’ve talked to him,” he had said, “and he’s really sorry about everything that happened last night. Truth be told, he doesn’t remember some of it, but anyway, he’s sorry. Hear him out.”

You couldn’t believe you were being forced to accept whatever pathetic apology your roommate was going to give you—just because he was your roommate and you had to live with him. It just wasn’t fair.

But when you stepped in through the door, the first thing that registered was the aroma wafting to you—the smell of food. Curious, you peered around the door and saw the little table beautifully set, dishes spread out all over it. And behind them all, obediently sitting on a chair, was Jackson. Guilty smile on his face, but still.

So this is his apology, you thought, closing the door and kicking off your shoes. A food bribe.

You pursed your lips as you reluctantly approached him, slinging your bag over the back of another chair. You crossed your arms. “What’s all this?”

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, diverting his gaze from your harsh stare. “I…uh, I wanted to apologize for the stuff I did…last night.” He pressed his lips together. “For breaking your phone and yelling at you and...stuff.” From under the table, he brought out a small box you instantly recognized as one a phone came in. “I got you a new one.”

Your lips parted in surprise. “You—wait, you got me a new phone?” Your tone did not hide your disbelief at all. “But…that’s expensive!”

“It’s my fault that yours is broken beyond repair,” he explained. “I’m obliged to do this.”

You couldn’t speak for a moment. “But…where did you get the money? I didn’t think—“

“Borrowed it from my mom,” he admitted, cheeks turning red. “I got an earful, but I had to do what I had to do.” He looked up at you pleadingly. “I’m really sorry for everything. I don’t usually lose my temper like that, I guess I was just frustrated—that’s no excuse,” he cleared hastily. “I just…I’m sorry.” He gestured to the food on the table. “I got your favourites?”

You didn’t know what to think. Jackson stuck his bottom lip out in a pout.

Honestly, why does Wang look like a kicked puppy when he’s sad?

“I don’t forgive you,” you said firmly. His face fell. “But I do accept your apology.” Ignoring the sigh of relief that he let out, you sat down at the table.

“That’s good enough for now.”

“And I should apologize too,” you remarked, picking up your chopsticks. “I said some harsh things to you yesterday.”

Jackson waved it off. “No. You were right and I just didn’t want to admit it.” He sighed deeply. “I’ve started looking for a job.”

“That’s great, Jackson.” Your smile was genuine now. Looking reassured, your flatmate mimicked you and picked up his own utensils. “I’m glad.”

Jinyoung sunbae, I guess I won’t have to take up your offer after all.

“Yah, who the hell are you texting nowadays?”

You heard the whining voice of your flatmate before you saw him. Barely glancing up from your phone, you asked, “What happened, Jackson?”

He scoffed. “See? You’re not even looking at me when you say that. You’re always tapping away on your phone like I don’t exist here! Pay attention to me!” You let out a startled yelp when he plopped his heavy body onto your side. “I don’t think you’ve said a full two sentences to me in the past week.” When you ignored him, angling your screen away, he felt suspicious. “Who are you texting—!”

“Yah!” You attempted to grab your phone back from him in vain. Jackson suddenly sat up.

“Jinyoung sunbae?!” he shrieked. “As in my friend Park Jinyoung?” He held your phone out of reach with one hand and used his free arm to wrestle yours to the sofa seat. “What the hell are you even texting him for?”

“He’s not only your friend, Jackson,” you whined, squirming in his grasp. “He’s really nice to me at university, why can’t I talk to him? He’s my senior, too.”

You made noises of protest as he began to scroll through the messages the two of you had exchanged. Before long, he was spluttering in fury.

“What is this?” He yelped. “Hey Y/N do you want to meet up for coffee? Since when has Jin—actually never mind, since when have you two been that close?” He tossed you your phone and you took it back gratefully. “So this is why Jinyoung says he’s too busy to get food nowadays, huh?” Heat crept up your cheeks. “Are you actually blushing right now?” He howled. “Okay, I can’t take this anymore!”

Your phone began to ring. Both of your heads turned to it.

On the screen was a stupid photo of his friend and the name Jinyoung sunbae.

“Don’t you dare answer that,” Jackson said lowly.

“You’re not the boss of me,” you spat in return, sliding the button to answer, pressing the speaker button simultaneously. “Hello, Jinyoung!”

“Hey, Y/N, what’s up?” came his voice from the speaker. “Are you busy? You didn’t answer my message.”

You giggled at the expression on Jackson’s face. “No, my flatmate was just being annoying.”

“Ah, Jackson? Is he there? Wait, is this on speaker?”

“Yah, Jinyoungie!” Jackson burst out, betrayal written all over his face. “Why are you ignoring me for Y/N? This isn’t fair; you were my friend first!”

“Are you serious right now, Jackson?” Jinyoung’s voice was amused. “I assumed you would be tired and busy from work. I didn’t want to bother you.”

“But what about Wang gae Park gae?” he grouched.

“Wang what?” You looked from the phone to Jackson.

“Never mind about that, Y/N,” Jinyoung interjected hastily. “You’re coming, right?”

“Coming where?” A growl emanated from your flatmate.

“Yeah, sunbae, I’ll be there soon.” With words of parting, you hung up the call.

“Where are you going with him?” Jackson repeated.

“I don’t see how that’s any of your business.” You stood up, reaching for your backpack.

“Why can’t you tell me? I thought I was your flatmate, shouldn’t I be worried? What if you don’t come back?”

You burst out laughing. “Why would I not come back? Don’t you trust your own friend?” He opened his mouth to protest, but you were halfway out the door. “See you later, Jacks!”

“You should have seen his face!” you told Jinyoung, laughing along with him at the memory. “Has he always been like that?”

“He’s jealous.” Jinyoung shrugged.

“Hmm. Yeah. He really likes you, you know.” You pointed your pencil at him. “Why do you reject him when he asks you to get food? It’s like stealing candy from a puppy.”

“He likes me?” He retorted incredulously. “The heck? It’s me he’s jealous of.”

It was your turn to be puzzled. “What do you mean? He was literally whining about him being your friend first and that I was stealing you away from him.”

Jinyoung guffawed into the crook of his arm. “Okay, if you don’t believe me, there’s nothing I can do about it.” He jabbed his pen at your textbook. “What are guys learning in class now?”

Jackson was bored. His best friend had ditched him for his flatmate. And vice versa, he supposed. How long could someone flop around on a bed and flick a fidget spinner around? He almost wished he had to go in for work today. Even washing dishes sounded better than what he was doing at the moment.

He groaned into his pillow. Why has everyone forsaken me? Honestly Jackson just get your ass up and do something other than faceplanting into the bed.

Pushing himself off the mattress, he stumbled to his feet, still flicking the spinner around. His stomach rumbled. Food,he thought blearily, banging against the doorframe on his way out of the room. “Ow! Fu—whoa, no!” The fidget spinner escaped his grasp and hit the floor sharply, skidding under the door adjacent to his, despite his futile attempts to intercept it with his foot. “Damn!” He stared at the door—Y/N’s door—that he had been forbidden to enter at any time, in any situation. To prove it, there was even a piece of paper stuck to the door announcing the same.

Absently, he laid his palm on the handle, but didn’t turn it. “It’s just a fidget spinner; can’t I just open it real quick, grab it and shut it again? That should be okay, right? I won’t look around.” He chewed his lip, second guessing himself. “Ah, fuck it, I’m practically Y/N’s boyfriend already. There aren’t any secrets to hide.”

Shrugging his shoulders, he turned the handle, eyes trained to the ground.

The spinner was lying on the ground next to a nightstand. Determinedly not looking around the room, Jackson bent to retrieve the damn thing.

His mistake was looking up as he straightened himself.

His eyes fell on the nightstand. Or rather, the photo framed on it.

His breath hitched. He thought his heart might have stopped beating for a moment.

Within the four wooden pieces stood Y/N. Much younger than now; the photo was clearly old. But Jackson’s eyes were on the young boy standing right beside Y/N.

The fidget spinner clattered to the floor again.

“Hyung!”

A car screeching. The sound of an impending accident, lifelong scars.

Screams.

Was that glass shattering? Or dreams?

Commotion. And cries for a person nobody knew.

“HYUNG!”

Jackson gasped, stumbling back a step, the force the picture exerted too strong for him to handle. His plastic toy dug into his heel and he cursed, the pain momentarily diverting his attention from his pounding heart.

Picking up the spinner, he choked out a ‘this can’t be happening’ before darting out of the room and slamming the door behind him.

He needed air.

What is going on? This can’t be possible.

Does Y/N know that I…no. That can’t be. It just can’t be!

Y/N? Of all people? Y/N wouldn’t do that…

Right?

Jackson wasn’t home when you got back.

Good for him, you thought. He’s learned to get out of the house by himself.

You stretched, glad to be back inside away from the heat outside. It was refreshingly cold inside…unsettlingly so. Why was it cold? Or were you imagining it?

Wondering if Jackson had become thoughtful enough to cook, you ventured into the kitchen, but then clicked your tongue disappointedly on seeing everything as you left it. Of course he hadn’t.

Sometime during your attempt at making pasta, the door opened.

“Jackson?” you called out, hoping it was him.

“Yeah?”

“You like pasta, right? Come here and help me.”

You were too occupied with the nearly burning food to notice Jackson’s heartbroken expression, but you did see that he was spacing out really bad. It wasn’t like him to not be bursting into speech animatedly at all times.

“Jackson?” you called for the fourth time, waving a spare hand in front of his face. He jolted.

“Ah, yeah.” He rubbed his eyes. “Shit, sorry. What was that?”

“Could you get some water?” He nodded absently before trudging off to carry out his task. You squinted at him. “Something wrong?” He quickly shook his head. But you knew Jackson enough to know that he was very, very bad at hiding his emotions. “Don’t lie, Jacks. I can see it in your face. What happened?”

He shrugged, his confusion disappearing almost entirely. “I—uh, I sorta did something, but I won’t tell you because you’ll get mad at me.”

You tilted your head. “What did you do?”

He shook his head and pouted, some of the playfulness returning. “You’ll get mad at me.”

“I promise I won’t.”

Jackson looked at you hard, for a moment or two, then cast his gaze to the floor. “I went into your room today.”

Those words dropped into your head like a bomb. “You what?” You let the fork clatter to the countertop, nearly lunging at him. He caught your arms just in time and held you away from him.

“You said you wouldn’t get mad!”

You huffed loudly, yanking your arms from his grip. “And you said you wouldn’t go inside!”

He held out his hands, blocking you from coming nearer. “It was an accident! My fidget spinner went under your door!”

You scoffed, turning back to the pot on the stove and wishing your room wasn’t a mess. “Still.” All you could think of were the paintings on the walls and the photos. Had he seen them? Would he ask?

“Hmm.” The two of you lapsed into silence for a while. Neither spoke until the pasta was ready and you divided it between the two of you. You sensed that Jackson was itching to say something, but, coward as you were, you weren’t sure you wanted to hear it.

“Um. Y/N?”

You looked up from your bowl, chopsticks faltering. “Yeah?”

He cleared his throat. “Uh, I know I shouldn’t have, but I couldn’t help but notice…that picture on your night stand…”

You froze, quickly setting your chopsticks down to hide your trembling fingers.

“Who is that?”

Jackson knew a more accurate question would be ‘Who was that?’ but he didn’t dare to ask. You didn’t know who he was. He hadn’t known who you were until this afternoon.

It hurt him. It hurt him to ask about the boy in the photo so casually, as if nothing had ever happened to him, as if one day he would get to see him again. He knew it would hurt you too. But he had no choice. He couldn’t risk the suspicion that he would rouse. You would demand answers. You would hate him for lying, for hiding who he was and what he had been doing.

He stared guiltily at you, where you sat across from him, clutching the table so hard your knuckles turned pale.

“Does—does it matter that you know who it is?” you choked out, evidently trying not to cry.

Jackson abandoned his own chopsticks and reached out to take your shaking hand in his. “It does. It does to me.”

You nodded, eyes red, staring determinedly anywhere but his face. “That’s…Hanyu. My baby cousin.” He inclined his head, encouraging you to tell him more. Even though he already knew it all. “He stayed in the city in the dorms—you know SOPA?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“He got in and…we were all so proud of him. And since I was already here, his parents weren’t worried about him at all. They—they trusted me.” Your voice broke and so did Jackson’s heart. “And one day, there was an accident. Someone took him to the hospital, but he…he fell into a coma.” Nothing more than a whisper. “Four months.”

He didn’t know he had gotten out of his seat until his arms were wrapped around you.

“There wasn’t anything we could do. He was just—getting worse. Every day. His father finally gave the order after hoping for so long. To—let him go.” You burst into tears and Jackson turned you so you were sobbing into his shoulder. “It’s my fault, it’s all my fault. They only let him stay because—because I was here. Because I would be there for him.”

“Hey, hey,” he said softly. “It’s not your fault. It…it wasn’t your fault. You didn’t do anything wrong. You were there for him. Things…these things just happen somehow. It’s not your fault.”

So, it wasn’t you after all?

A huge weight lifted off his chest. He hadn’t realized how much hatred and resentment he’d been carrying around all this time without knowing it.

It wasn’t you.

“How—how are his parents?”

“Not doing good.” You sniffed hard, wiping your tears away. “Not good at all.”

He gripped your shoulders and made you look at him. “What about you?”

He watched helplessly as more tears escaped the corners of your eyes. “Neither am I.”

The last thing you remembered was slumping into Jackson’s arms, drained of energy.

You didn’t think you would be telling anyone about Hanyu. You hadn’t told anyone except your psychology professor, who had called you to her office sometime in March because you looked too depressed to be taking your finals. And that too, was reluctant. You knew you should talk to someone about it, you knew you should be accompanying his parents to the therapist you forced them to see, but—maybe it was the prolonged blow that lessened the pain to a dull throb. Hope had ebbed away bit by bit, not all at once.

But talking about him to Jackson was so simple. It was almost as if he understood exactly what you were going through. Almost as if Hanyu was his own brother.

You wondered if Jackson had lost someone dear to him in the past. Maybe he had. That would explain the sudden compassion he had towards you now. You hadn’t told him everything, just the brief story, but he didn’t press further.

He’s sweet, you realized all too late. He really is.

You’d think you would be free of your flatmate at least when you went to work on weekends. Jackson was the last person who would willingly enter a library—at least, without an emergency. But no, there he was, still blowing up your phone about how he slipped in the bathroom and thinks he broke his butt, and then found that his ramen was finished so he couldn’t eat (despite there being like, healthy food somewhere in the fridge) and therefore begging you to buy some on your way home because he couldn’t go (due to the broken butt). You were rolling your eyes at the messages, but an endearing smile still crept across your lips.

“Boyfriend?” Daniel crashed his wheely chair into yours, peeking over your shoulder at your phone. You winced at his knobbly shoulder and turned off the screen.

“No.” You shoved his chair away.

“Girlfriend?”

“No.”

Daniel looked confused. “…Partner?”

Wah. What an open-minded king. “No, Kang. Just my flatmate.”

“What?” He scrunched up his nose. “No way. I saw how you were looking at their texts.”

You screeched. “What the heck?” He seemed satisfied at your reaction.

“So, crush?” he confirmed, sniggering at the blush that crept up your neck. “Who is it? Give me their number, I’ll set y’all up.”

“For the love of—”

“Y/N!”

You looked up, startled, to see Jinyoung standing on the other side of the counter. You straightened up, tensing; you had been sort of avoiding him for a while.

“Sunbae.” He pursed his lips at you in a disapproving stare.

“Where have you been? Do I have to come all the way to the public library to see my junior?” He crossed his arms. “Why are you avoiding me?”

“It’s—it’s not like that, sunbae—”

“Don’t say anything. Jackson’s been telling me about his broken ass—” You flinched, eyes darting to Daniel, who for sure misinterpreted that phrase, “—and that you’re ignoring him. What happened?”

“Oh, Y/N’s flatmate?”

Fucking hell, Daniel. Please learn to shut up.

He was sporting a shit-eating grin. “Y/N’s got a crush.”

Jinyoung’s lips immediately curled upward and you waved your arms around, banging them together in an ‘X’. “No. No, I don’t have a crush!”

“You know it’s okay, right?” Your senior reassured you. “He likes you, too.”

Oh.

Wait, what?

“Huh?” The disbelief was evident in your voice. Jinyoung shrugged, a smug little smile on his face.

“Jackson’s my best friend, Y/N. I know him. He tells me things.” He set a book down on the counter in front of Daniel, who obediently took it and scanned it for him. “And I also know he doesn’t have the balls to tell you anything. So, my question is, what are you going to do about it?”

What am I going to do about it? An idea popped into your head and you blurted it out before you could stop yourself. “I’ll tell Jackson I like him when you tell him—what was he called? JB, that you like him.”

Jinyoung’s face paled. “What?”

Now you were the smug one. “You heard me, you hypocrite. Confess to your crush and I’ll confess to mine.”

He squinted at you, clearly plotting his next move. “Fine,” he retorted, sticking his nose in the air haughtily. “I will.”

“You still texting Jinyoungie, huh?” Jackson teased, the pout very much audible in his voice. You looked up from your phone. He crossed his arms, narrowing his eyes.

You rolled your eyes. “Dude, when will you get over him ditching you? You know damn well he’s drowning in his love for your other friend—who? JB.”

Jackson tensed a little, but you didn’t seem to notice. “I know,” he breathed out. “JB hyung is so oblivious. So is Jinyoungie.”

“Besides,” you continued, tilting your head coyly, “Jinyoung sunbae says you’ve got a crush on me.”

The way Jackson spluttered at that was hilarious. “Wha—Me? Crush on you? As if.”

“Sure, sure.” You turned back to your phone. Jackson sat down heavily next to you, plopping his head on your lap. You peered under your screen to look at him. “Hello. What are you doing?”

“Pay attention to me.” You chuckled at the whine in his tone. “You don’t talk to me anymore.” He grasped your hand and placed it on his head. You began stroking his freshly dyed strands. You would never admit it but you liked his hair blond.

“Are you going to dye it back?”

He shifted, getting comfortable. “Probably not soon. Why? Don’t you like it?” He sat up, twisting to face you, horrified. “Do I look bad as a blond?”

You leaned back, laughing. “Stop being so dramatic, Jackson!”

Two knocks on the front door and then it opened. You jolted at the sight of Jinyoung staring between the two of you in that position. Jackson turned to follow your gaze and yelled in surprise. Slowly, Jinyoung raised a hand to cover his eyes.

“Yah!” Jackson shouted, the sheer volume causing your ears to pop. “It’s not like that!”

As Christmas came and went, your heart grew heavier and heavier. For several reasons. On the one hand, you were crushing hard on your flatmate like some dumb romcom cliché. On the other, that date was approaching you like a truck at eighty an hour with broken brakes.

A year to the day of the accident.

You knew, technically, that Hanyu only passed away in April, but this was truly the day you lost him. Truly the day that something was lost inside you. Something that you may never fully find again…

“Hey, Y/N, you see this?” Jackson bounded over to you holding up a snow globe and shaking it enthusiastically.

…but perhaps, one day, you would.

Your eyes softened as you watched Jackson’s infectious smile bloomed. Would he agree to come with me? He does know about Hanyu, after all.

“Jackson?” you asked quietly.

“Yeah?” He looked up and caught your expression.

“Would you come to a place with me if I asked?”

He tilted his head. “Where?”

You bit the inside of your cheek. “The funeral home.” As his face fell, you continued, “It’s almost a year to the day of…the accident.”

“Ah. It is, isn’t it?” He searched your eyes. “Are you sure about this? About me…coming with you?”

You nodded. “Yeah. I think…I think it would be good. If I had someone to talk to about it. And also haul me home. I’m probably…gonna be a mess.”

Jackson reached out, hesitantly to grip your shoulder tight before drawing your closer for an embrace. “It’s okay,” he said, sounding a little unsure himself. “It’s all gonna be okay.”

It was just an ordinary cold Saturday when you and Jackson left the apartment to get groceries at the supermarket. When you two were arguing over ramen, you heard a shout.

“Hey, Jackson!”

Both of you turned to see a tall, broad-shouldered young man stroll over. Jackson straightened immediately. An odd sort of feeling crept up your neck.

He seems familiar. Have I seen him—

You gasped silently.

That’s Jaebeom. How could I forget him?

“Jackson, man, where have you been?” the man asked, clapping his friend on the shoulder.

Your flatmate looked quite uncomfortable. “Guess I got busy, hyung. Sorry.”

You had to speak. “Excuse me? You’re—Im Jaebeom…right?”

Jackson quickly intervened. “This is my flatmate, hyung.”

The man turned his focus to you, narrowing his eyes curiously, before they widened in recognition. “Oh!” He pointed at you. You wouldn’t deny you were surprised he remembered you from almost a year ago. “You’re that...Y/N. Right? From the hospital?” He faltered at the mention of it. “Ah…um. How is he?”

Your heart clenched painfully, but you forced a smile. “He, uh, passed away. In April.” Jaebeom winced at the news.

“Ah, I’m really sorry.”

You waved it away. “No, no, don’t be. You have my eternal gratitude for getting him to the ER. I don’t know how many people would have done that.”

He inclined his head, fidgeting uncomfortably for a moment. “Still…yah, Jackson-ah, you knew? Why didn’t you tell me?”

You turned to Jackson curiously. “Hm?” He was pale, staring at Jaebeom with helplessness in his eyes.

“Ah, you two met there?” Jaebeom asked, contemplating. “When did you guys talk?”

You were confused, not seeing the sharp looks of ‘please-stop-talking’ that Jackson was shooting his friend. “Sorry, what? Met where?”

It was Jaebeom’s turn to look confused. “At the hospital, of course.”

You breathed out a nervous laugh, because you didn’t know where this was headed. “Why would I meet Jackson at the hospital?”

“Hyung!” Jackson interjected suddenly. Suspiciously. Moving his body in between yours and Jaebeom’s. “I think maybe we should finish up our shopping and meet later—”

“No, tell me, Jaebeom-ssi.” You put a hand on Jackson’s shoulder.

Jaebeom was at a loss. He didn’t seem to understand Jackson’s panic, and neither could you. “Jackson was with me at the hospital when we brought him in. We brought him together. I thought he met you there when you came.”

You inhaled sharply, glancing at Jackson with surprise in your eyes. “Jackson.” He flinched, remaining quiet. “Is that true?”

“Hyung, I’ll come over later,” he told Jaebeom quietly, pushing him away. His friend took a step back, wondering why on earth something so simple—good news, in fact—turned awry. He bowed, mumbling out a greeting before he picked up his shopping basket and turned away.

You were shocked beyond words.

Jackson took Hanyu to the hospital. Jackson knew who he was. Jackson knew who you were. What did this mean? Was he tracking you? Was he tracking anyone with connections to Hanyu? Is that why he asked about him and his parents?

“Y/N…”

You suddenly didn’t want to hear anything. Your feet carried you after Jaebeom, calling his name.

Jackson was fucked.

Why, he screamed at himself, didn’t you tell Y/N the truth as soon as you found out about it? Why, why, why? Can you blame Y/N for not listening to you? You fucking lied, Jackson!

You hadn’t come back to the apartment until past midnight after running off to talk to JB. He’d waited up for you, but you didn’t spare anything a glance before locking yourself in your room. He’d wanted to call you, wanted to make sure you were okay, but he’d already done enough damage. Were you even willing to talk to him at all? He decided he didn’t want to test it. For all he knew, you thought he was some sort of creep or a stalker or something. You probably hated him.

He fell asleep that night to the sound of you crying from the other side of the wall.

Unease. You didn’t know why you were feeling so unsettled. It was a bright cloudless day but you weren’t sharing the spirit. In fact, you were spacing out so much that your partner for your Statistics project had to keep snapping his fingers in front of your face to bring your focus back to him.

“Sorry, Gyeom,” you muttered wearily. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me today.”

He nodded sympathetically. “Maybe you should go home. I’ll finish up around here.”

“Ah, no.” You shook your head. “I’ll be fine. Let’s finish this.” But your phone was ringing, the caller ID displaying an unknown number. You frowned. “Hello?”

“Excuse me, is this Jia Hanyu’s emergency contact?”

You froze. This wasn’t a voice you knew. Emergency contact? Why—why would they—who…?

“Um. Y-yes?” You were already shaking. Yugyeom looked at you in alarm.

“We need you to come to the General Hospital immediately. There has been an accident.”

A click. You stared at your phone, heart racing, trembling all over. “Oh my god. Oh my god, what do I do? What do I do?” Yugyeom seized your shoulders and forced you down from growing hysteria.

“What. Happened.” His voice was steady enough that you responded the same way.

“General Hospital.”

“I’ll take you there.”

The drive to the hospital was wrought with tension. You could only think of the worst and you were crying by the time you got there, despite Yugyeom’s attempts to calm you down. You let him drag you through the reception and you desperately asked for Jia Hanyu, to be ushered—alone—into the ER. The last thing you remembered seeing was Yugyeom’s reassuring smile before you turned a corner out of sight.

You nearly bumped into a man on his phone in your daze and hastily apologized, but he neither seemed to notice or care.

The talk with the doctor was less than reassuring, however. You signed whatever they thrust at you to get his surgery started and then demanded to know who brought him in.

“Hello,” the young man greeted you politely, his clothes still stained red. He was looking at you carefully as if you would break down any moment.

You forced a wobbly smile. “Thank you so much.” It was barely more than a whisper, but he caught it.

“It was the least we could do,” he replied. Your knees suddenly gave way and you sank into a chair.

“Tell me what happened to him,” you pleaded.

And he told you about the car that came speeding out of nowhere although the signal was red. If you were in your right mind, you might have heard the anger in his voice. It hadn’t been the kid’s fault then. Tears slipped out of the corner of your eyes.

Your gaze rested on his soiled clothes. “I’ll—I’ll replace those,” you said weakly, gesturing to his attire. “They’re ruined.”

“Don’t be silly, of course you don’t have to.” He knelt in front of you. “Are you okay? That’s what matters.”

You nodded, sniffling. “Yeah, I’ll be okay.” You didn’t know why you were attempting the brave front. “You didn’t tell me your name yet. How can I be grateful if I don’t know your name?”

He chuckled under his breath. “My name is Im Jaebeom.”

“Y/N.”

He squeezed your hands. “He’ll be fine, you know.”

“I know. That doesn’t make things any easier.”

“Doesn’t it?”

The two of you sat there in silence before you remembered that this was a person, he probably had plans interrupted, he must need to get home. Reluctantly, he stood to leave, but only after making sure you would be okay.

“And—” you grabbed his wrist. “Yugyeom—he’s sitting out there in reception. Tell him—tell him to go home and that I’ll be fine. Please?”

He nodded. Left.

You broke down completely. And you thought that would be the worst to happen.

You weren’t bargaining on the mess that would happen the next day.

You never thought he wouldn’t wake up.

The apartment fell silent in a way that you never thought would be possible after Jackson moving in. There was always noise in it; but no longer. Several of your neighbours had even asked if Jackson had moved out. What were you supposed to tell them? No, he didn’t move out, I just found out he’s a liar and I’m trying to cope with that by ignoring him and he’s too scared to approach me?

In truth, you weren’t totally mad at him or worried that he would be a stalker. After talking things over with Jaebeom, you’d concluded that Jackson hadn’t seen you that day at the hospital (Jaebeom recalled he’d gone to make a call or something). So the first time he saw you really was at the apartment. And that’s why he was so curious about the picture. That’s when he’d known.

But why hide it from you?

“Y/N!” You weren’t sure if socializing was a good idea at the moment, but when you bumped into Jinyoung at the coffee shop down the street, you didn’t push him away. He joined the line at the counter right after you.

“Hello, sunbae.” The smile you put on definitely didn’t reach your eyes, but Jinyoung didn’t comment. Most college students had the same problem.

“I did it.” He told you smugly.

“Did what?”

“I told JB hyung that I liked him.”

Despite the inner turmoil you’d been going through for the past few days, you gasped. “Wait, what? Seriously?” He nodded, clearly brimming with glee, bouncing up and down on his heels like a giddy child just given sweets.

“He’s here, I want you to meet him.” He gestured to a table a short distance away. You saw the top of a head and smiled.

“I’d love to.”

He grinned, eyes crinkling. “Thanks, uh, for encouraging me to.”

You let out a laugh. “Um, you’re welcome? I didn’t really think you’d do it; I only said that to get you off my back about Jackson.” And as soon as the name rolled off your lips, your heart sank.

Jinyoung must have sensed the distress in your expression, because he asked, “Are you okay? Did you guys fight again?”

“I guess you could say that.” After placing your orders, you followed him to their table, eager to meet this JB hyung you’d heard so much about.

You saw the man break into a wide smile on seeing Jinyoung return, but the moment you came within his line of sight, his face fell in surprise. So did yours.

“Y/N?” he asked, incredulous.

“Jaebeom?” You were in equal disbelief. A moment of silence passed when you two looked at each other and Jinyoung back and forth between.

“You guys know each other?” Jinyoung questioned. “Ah, did Jackson introduce you? I thought you and Jackson weren’t talking, hyung.”

“This is your JB hyung?” You laughed.

Jaebeom looked sheepish. “My friends call me that.”

Jinyoung was just sitting there next to you, across from Jaebeom, confused. Jaebeom decided to take pity on him.

“Nyoung, you remember I told you that Jackson and I took a kid to the hospital? Last year?”

He nodded. “Yeah, the car accident.”

Your chest felt tight. “That was my cousin.”

Jinyoung’s mouth fell open in shock. “Wait, what?” His eyes darted around, thinking. “And…Jackson knew who you were?”

You shook your head. “I met Jaebeom-ssi at the hospital that evening, but I didn’t see Jackson. He didn’t know I was the emergency contact until a month ago or something. But he didn’t tell me he was the one who took Hanyu to the hospital. I only found out a week ago when we bumped into Jaebeom-ssi at the supermarket.”

Jinyoung sat there, stunned. “I can’t believe he didn’t tell me any of this.”

“He told me everything a few days ago,” Jaebeom interjected. “But he made me promise not to tell anyone.” He leaned forward and stared at you. “You’re still not talking to him, are you?”

You lowered your head in guilt. “I want to. It’s just—he lied to me and I don’t know why. I want to talk to him, but I just—don’t know how to break the silence.”

“His heart’s…in the right place,” Jaebeom assured you. “Honestly, I don’t think even he knows why he hid it from you.”

“I think I might know,” Jinyoung said softly. Both of you turned to look at him.

“I thought he didn’t tell you anything.”

“Not the recent stuff,” he agreed, “but he did tell me what happened last year.” He searched your eyes, probably wondering how to put things into words. “Did Jackson tell you that he visited Hanyu at the hospital?”

You stilled. “He—he visited Hanyu?”

Your senior nodded. “He went nearly every week to check up on him, to see if there was any progress.”

Your jaw dropped in shock. “What?”

Jaebeom glanced over at his boyfriend, biting his lip nervously. “I think Jackson should be the one explaining all this.” Jinyoung looked sufficiently chastised.

“I’m just saying that might be the reason,” he hastily said. “He was really…devastated when he passed, you know. Came to me bawling his eyes out. I really didn’t know what to do.”

“Where was I during all this?” Jaebeom questioned.

“Japan, I think. But Y/N, I’m not saying you shouldn’t be mad at him,” your senior advised. “I can understand that. But, you know, hear him out. I’ll talk to him if you want. He’s not a bad guy.”

You inclined your head. “I understand. I’ll—I’ll listen to what he has to say.”

You went back that afternoon, heart in your throat.

What do I tell him? What do I say? How do I break this silence?

You waited.

The clock struck ten, then eleven.

Twelve.

You fidgeted with your phone, anxiety seeping through you. Where was he?

Should I call him? Would that be—ah, never mind. Why should I be the one to patch this up? I didn’t do anything wrong! He’s the one who should apologize. Why isn’t he here?

An hour later, you weren’t thinking about the politics of your troubles. You were worried now, very much so. You tried to call him, but his phone was switched off. Had he run away somewhere? What was going on? Should you call the police?

It was past one thirty when an unknown number called you. You stared at your phone, heart pounding, tears already pricking at the corners of your eyes.

Not again, you thought desperately. Please not again.

“Hello?”

“Y/N, it’s me. Jaebeom.” He didn’t waste any time. “Jackson’s with me; I figured you would be worried.”

You sunk into the sofa cushions, a hand over your heart. Oh, thank heaven. “He—he’s with you?”

“Yeah, he—uh, I’m guessing he went out by himself because he’s drunk out of his mind. Came knocking at my door a while ago.”

You didn’t know what to think. “Ah. I tried calling him, but…”

“Oh, his phone’s dead.” You heard muffled noises on the other end. “I wanted to call you sooner, but I had to find your number from his wallet.”

“His…his wallet?”

“Yeah, you’re his emergency contact. He has your info written down on a piece of paper.”

“Oh.” Your voice sounded very small. “I see.”

He cleared his throat. “Um, he’s asleep now, but I’ll send him over tomorrow after his hangover’s gone down.”

“Ah. Yes. Thank you, Jaebeom-ssi.” You paused, about to hang up.

“Wait, uh, Y/N?”

“Yes?”

Jaebeom sounded hesitant. “Okay, I’m…I’m not as great with words as Jinyoung is, but…um, I think you should know that Jackson is a good guy. Like, I know he may have hidden some things from you, but he wasn’t trying to, like, hurt you or anything.”

You swallowed down the lump in your throat. “I know.”

“He was crying, you know.” Jaebeom made an uncomfortable noise, as if he didn’t know how to proceed from there. “When he showed up here. I couldn’t understand what he wanted to say, but I heard your name. He really cares about you, yeah? Even if—even if he doesn’t tell you.”

You nodded slowly, before remembering that he couldn’t see it. “Yeah, I—I understand.”

There was a brief awkward pause, before he coughed. “So, um, yeah. You should…probably sleep. Good night.”

“Right. Good night.”

You silently set your phone down and put your head in your hands. When did all this become so complicated? Why was it so difficult? I guess it’s my fault for not listening to him or giving him a chance to explain. Do I just wait for him to come back? What do I say?

The sun rose bleakly on the next morning.

You awoke to the jarring sound of the alarm ringing in an empty, silent apartment. Laying in bed, staring at the ceiling, you sighed, going through everything that happened a year ago, a month ago, a week ago. Wondering how things had escalated to this. It’s better not to overthink about it. When he comes back, we’ll either talk it out or fight it out.

Around ten, Jaebeom shot you a text informing you that he’d sent Jackson back.

You sat on the sofa, giving you a view of the front door. You would wait. Waste no time. Just get it over with. You were vaguely aware of your heartbeat in mild panic state.

At last, someone knocked, tried the door and opened it.

Jackson’s gaze fell on your stoic expression and he flinched. Slowly stepping in and removing his shoes making as little noise as possible, he stood in the doorway for a moment before sitting down on the other end of the sofa.

Neither of you spoke.

You sensed him fumbling with his fingers, itching to say something.

“I went to see him.”

You didn’t respond. He took your silence as invitation to continue.

“Every week. I—I don’t know why, to be honest. I just…” He shook his head. “I just felt some sort of attachment to him. I wanted him to get better. I really did.”

Your heart ached at his words. How could you be angry for this? For his compassion?

“When I went the day after he…” he broke off. “When I went, I was told…the news. And I didn’t know how to take it. I couldn’t say goodbye. I couldn’t believe that anyone would give up on him.” He drew in a deep breath, still clearly anxious at your silence. “Deep down I guess I knew that there was nothing we could do and it was easier to…end his suffering, but…I didn’t want to accept it, I guess. I know that sounds silly, but—”

“It’s not silly.”

He paused, hesitant. Your voice was rough from lack of use.

“Ah.” He scratched the back of his neck. “I…I shouldn’t have, but I think I just put my resentment on whoever his emergency contact was, you know? I guess I figured they made the decision.” You felt tears beginning to form but your blinked them away. “I really didn’t know it was you. Or that you weren’t—”

“I know, Jackson.” You finally looked up at him. He was on the edge of his seat, worried but hopeful. “The boys told me everything. I just wish you hadn’t lied.”

“So do I,” he said sincerely.

The two of you stared at each other, not saying anything. Jackson seemed ready for an outburst, a single sentence that you weren’t going to forgive him.

“Why would you do that, though?” You spat, slamming your hand down onto the cushions. Jackson jumped, startled.

“I’m really sorry, Y/N, I didn’t think—”

“Do you have any idea how worried I was when you didn’t come home last night?”

“—find out…wait, what?” He was dumbfounded. “Oh.”

“I was this close to calling the police, you know that? I don’t even know how many gods I thanked when Jaebeom called saying you had crashed at his place. Why do you have to go and get drunk, huh? Why do you have to put yourself in danger like that?”

Jackson visibly relaxed, a small smile breaking across his lips. “I’m so sorry. Does this mean I’m forgiven?”

“You’re so stupid.” And you stretched your arms out for a hug. He melted into it, holding you tight so he’d never let you go. “He would have loved you, too,” you murmured into his shoulder.

He drew back, eyes uncharacteristically serious. That was a grand statement you had just made. But you weren’t going to withdraw that. You knew it was true.

“Does-does that mean you—love me?” Jackson spluttered, blotches of red forming on his cheeks. And then you realized exactly what you had said.

“What? No,” you retorted defensively, pushing him away. “What are you talking about? I never said anything like that.” And then you jumped up to run away, squirming out of his firm grasp. His fingers found your sides and you burst out gasping.

Laughter rung through the still apartment.

There was happiness again.

“Hyung, you called Y/N yesterday?”

“Yeah, I did. You think your flatmate wouldn’t be worried about you?”

“What did you say?”

“Ha. I didn’t say anything. Why? Should I have told Y/N you were saying “I love you” in your sleep?”

“Yeah, Jinyoung, I’ll be there, don’t worry so much,” you spoke into the phone you balanced on your shoulder. Your hands were busy washing out the dishes you’d used for lunch. “How’s Jaebeom doing?” You hummed as your senior (now graduated, big whoop, whatever, ugh) went into an explanation on how his boyfriend’s cat woke them up yowling at three in the morning because she got herself stuck on top of the display cabinet and he couldn’t go back to sleep.

“Is Jackson there?” he asked you. You wiped your hands hastily on a washcloth before taking your phone in your hand and stepping over to the window.

“No, he had a morning shift,” you informed him. “He was supposed to be here by now, come to think of it.” You glanced out, wondering where he might be.

“Ah, okay. Remind him to come tomorrow, too.” Jinyoung paused. “Wait, is it a good idea to bring Jacks? Do you think he’ll be too loud? I don’t want to blow this—”

“Jinyoung, relax,” you reassured. “Jaebeom’s parents already love you, I don’t see why you’re so afraid—”

“That’s when we were just friends!” He cried, panic evident in his tone. “I don’t even know what they’ll say about this!”

Your phone made a funny beeping noise. “Jinyoung, you’ll be fine. I promise you. I’ll call you back, okay? I’m getting another call.” You hung up on him to see an unknown number calling. Without thinking twice, you answered. “Hello?”

“Excuse me, is this Jackson Wang’s emergency contact?”

A/N: *bowing* I’m very sorry.

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