#sorry. silly hours will resume shortly

[kaeyx]

Ok let me be serious for a moment. If you have this carrd as your "basic dni criteria" or support it I do not want you on my blog. Also please remember to read it thoroughly because I constantly find that the people who use it are in violation of it.

[rogue-durin-16]

THINGS NEVER GO AS PLANNED (Part IV/VII)

"wrong name"

Summary: After Fred's death, George and Y/n lean on each other to carry on. This wasn't the most brilliant idea, though; George was pretty much in love with the girl, and Y/n— well, she had been dating Fred prior to the Battle of Hogwarts.

Pairing: George Weasley x Reader

Genre: angst-fluff

Tags:

Suggested by: @crispykittywitch

Things never go as planned: @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @beautyschoo1dropout @s1ut4georgeweasley @sunshineandshadowss @missmulti @accioweaslcy

Permanent taglist: @elia-the-bibliophile @randomparanoid @karlthecat15722 @thebutchersdaughtersblog @amourtentiaa

Warnings: language, mentions of Fred x Reader, brief mention of death ig (?) Feels

A/N: here's a Christmas fic that has no right to be this angsty lmao, enjoy nonetheless <3

Prologue: the aftermath

Part I: sleepless nights

Part II: candy floss

Part III: shock therapy

Part V: the perfect excuse

Part VI: the downfall

Part VII: apart

Epilogue: I still love you

Rogue-durin-16 masterlist

We apparated in the Weasley front yard together at dusk at the same time as Percy did; we greeted him with a hug and entered their old home, only to be met with more hugs.

I had only stayed at the Burrow once, arriving the night we escorted Harry, and leaving shortly after the tragic and abrupt ending of Bill and Fleur's wedding.

I had attended to the wedding as Fred's date. Even if we agreed that there was nothing serious between us, we cared deeply for one another, and I was important enough for him that he asked me to present ourselves together in front of his family.

How odd it was that the second time I was staying at the Burrow, it was because I had been asked to attend this Christmas gathering by none other than George —as friends, of course—; so odd that it made me anxious, but Arthur and Molly were way too welcoming for that anxiety to carry on longer than a minute after I stepped into their home.

"Y/n, dear!" Molly held me back while George went to greet his siblings, who had arrived earlier than us. "I'm so glad you could make it!"

"She didn't want to come." George snitched, coming back to us after hugging his father. "Said she felt like she was trespassing."

"George!" My cheeks burned when he exposed me.

"Oh, darling," Molly pulled me into the house to join the rest. "You're always welcomed here, don't be silly!"

Molly had liked me since day one, even before Fred and I became a thing. I was the one to receive her when the Weasley matriarch first visited the shop, and we immediately got along. Fred had explained to me that it was because I reminded his mother of her younger self.

"You're a snitch." I whispered into George's ear as we both walked behind Molly in the kitchen direction, his only response was to stick out his tongue, which made us both chuckle.

Molly looked over her shoulder and I caught in her eyes the same emotion I saw in Ginny's the first time she came to visit the shop after the reopening.

A profound emotion rooted in hope; a bittersweet feeling coming from the thought that, even though Fred was gone, George seemed to be coming back to us.

I felt it too, whenever he smiled. It was lovely to see him actually happy; I wished I could keep him like that forever, even in the nights, when everything would come down on his shoulders, tearing apart every spark of joy might have had in the day.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

We weren't finished with food yet when Arthur wiped his mouth with the napkin and, clapping his hands once, exclaimed, "Alright, time for presents!" Teddy, who rested on Bill's lap, squealed, his hair turning pink; that baby was smart. "I'll get them, dear." He stopped his wife from standing up and went to get them himself.

He distributed the gifts, and I was surprised when he handed me one. "Oh! You didn't have to—"

"Nonsense!" Arthur stopped me, resuming his task with a warm smile. Everyone was happy in that moment, and I knew George's mood had a big part on that.

He unwrapped his, which turned out to be a purple and orange scarf and matching mittens. He was putting on the mittens when I tossed the wrap of my present, uncovering a cardigan formed by several tones of my favorite color.

"Put it on!" George requested excited. unbeknownst to me, it had been him who told Molly my favorite color. "Aw you look fantastic." He observed, poorly wrapping his scarf around his neck.

"Of course I do." I agreed, shifting on my chair to face him, my hands traveling to his scarf to relocate it properly.

Though we didn't notice, it wasn't the first time that more than one pair of eyes observed us that night, and it wouldn't be the last.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bill and Fleur had offered to take care of Teddy since they were leaving to Shell Cottage, so Harry and Ginny could spend the night at the Burrow without the worry of the baby.

Percy was terribly tired, so he withdrew from the living room to go to sleep.

Thank goodness he did; Percy was probably the second most affected by Fred death, and after that nice evening, he wouldn't have wanted to witness what was about to happen.

Ron, Hermione and I had colonized the settee, while Ginny and George were on their feet near the table, chatting about some nonsense; Molly was cleaning the dishes. Harry had offered to help her, but she refused, so the boy decided to talk with Arthur instead.

Molly pointed with her index finger at the remaining glasses laid on the table and called for George.

The thing is, she didn't really call for George.

"Fred, darling, hand me those."

The room fell silent.

It took a moment for her to realise, but an instant later, Molly was covering her mouth with her hand, her glassy stare fixed on the wrong named twin.

My eyes frantically travelled to every single person in the room, who had gone livid. We all seemed to be holding our breaths, waiting for some kind of explosive reaction.

Then my attention was drawn to George, whose, until that instant amused gaze, had turned blank and expressionless.

"Darling—" Molly's voice shattered with a single word. As Arthur went to console his wife, Ginny led her older brother aside and whispered things only he could hear, attempting to sooth him. "It slipped..." Molly cried.

I stayed sat on the couch with Hermione and Ron, the three of us frozen; I felt like I was an intruder witnessing a very intimate family moment.

"George don't—" we heard Ginny raising her voice before her brother disapparated. "Bloody hell!" She spun around and walked to me. "Y/n, speak to him, he'll listen to you." She practically begged, nodding her head at the window, prompting me to look at George standing alone at the edge of the cornfield, already making his way in.

"I-I..." I didn't need to look around in order to acknowledge all the eyes laid on me. "O-okay." I blinked away my own tears and rushed to the door, only to be stopped by Molly's shaky hand.

"Please- tell him I'm sorry."

"I don't think he'll blame you." I reassured the wrecked mother, offering her a comforting smile before making my way out and jogging into the cornfield myself.

"George?" When I didn't obtain an answer, it dawned on me how dumb it had been to dive into that area without knowing where to go. "George?"

I yelped when something tugged on my sleeve, making my body pivot on my heel. "You know how easy is to get lost in here?" The ginger questioned in a raspy tone, the hand that had been on my sleeve going down to mine, which invited him into my hold.

"She didn't mean— I reckon she just... Saw him in you for a second."

"I know." Though his eyes did look a bit red, he was calm.

"You alright?" I inquired, taking my hand to his cheek, on which he leaned.

"I just..." Sigh. His right hand travelled up to his face to hold mine in it before pulling away. "I need a moment alone."

I nodded. "Don't take too long or you'll catch a cold." He hummed affirmatively, and I half-heartedly left the cornfield and headed to the Burrow.

I excused George, assuring them he would be okay and, though the previous light-hearted environment didn't return, the tension in the air dissipated a bit.

A few minutes later, George came in; his mother welcomed with open arms and he returned the hug, having a small conversation against Molly's shoulder before making a beeline to me, sitting by my side.

I felt my cheeks flushing as he leaned on me, putting his head on my shoulder; suddenly self-conscious at the closeness between us. Somehow it was different being that close the privacy of our flat, than outside of it. Though it felt somehow inappropriate, when his long fingers intertwined with mines, I indulged him, trying hard not to meet neither Hermione's nor Ginny's eyes —they had been staring so much that I had noticed them an hour ago.

I was completely unaware of Molly's gaze laid on us too.

George, whose eyes had been closed, sit up straighter to whisper in my ear, "Can we go back to the flat?" My eyes met his and I realised we were even closer than I had thought in first place.

"I thought we were staying the night?" I murmured, trying in vain to keep his family out of the conversation they were pretending not to hear.

He leaned a bit closer only for me to hear his words. "I don't think I can sleep in my room."

"Do it for your mum." I squeezed his hand and he sighed. "I'm gonna stay in that room with you." Another sigh, but this one was of defeat, letting me know that I had talked some sense into him.

HERMIONE'S P. O. V.

At the beginning of the evening, when George and Y/n had first stepped into the Burrow, Ginny had come to me, urging me to observe them closely.

At first I didn't know why she would say that, but after the wrong name slipped out of Molly's lips, I started to get a hold of the matter, but it seemed so surreal— it just couldn't be.

Though the way Y/n's cheeks lighted up when George took a seat between us did remind me of the way I used to react when Ron got a tad too close to me in our sixth year.

After a while Y/n seemed to forget about our presence and eased besides George, making their bodies get closer.

When we decided to call it a day and the ones left in the living room started to retreat to their rooms for the night, Y/n got up without letting go of George's hold at any moment and, thanking Molly for her hospitality, they made their way upstairs.

Had my eyes not been trained on them, I would have missed the way George's hands went to Y/n's waist as his chin fell on her shoulder.

I left the sofa and walked to Ginny before she and Harry could slither to their dorm. "Are they...?"

"Not sure." Ginny replied with knitted brows. "What'd you think?"

"I... Don't know." I confessed.

GEORGE'S P. O. V.

We entered the dark room, illuminated only by the light provided by the night sky and started to discard our clothes in silence without looking at each other.

I was the first one to finish, making my way to my old bed and catching a glimpse of Y/n's silouhette while she threw a tee on.

I was utterly, hopelessly in love with her.

I had known I loved her for quite a while, but the feeling that had made my heart swell and my stomach flutter when she got into the cornfield without giving it a second thought in order to find me, that was something else.

I had also felt it when she had found me lifeless in Fred's room a couple of months ago; that feeling had been the reason why I found the strength in me to come back to life.

I was young, but I just knew what I felt went further from only love.

"What's on your mind?" She was already slipping under the covers by my side, her arms wrapping around me and bringing my back closer to her chest.

You, I wanted to say. "Not much."

"Liar." She tugged on my shirt and I turned on my other side so we would be facing each other. "C'mon, it's just me."

Words blurted out of my mouth, escaping my control. "Do you see him when you look at me?"

And I wasn't making anything up; It was, in fact, on my mind. It had appeared during the walk through the cornfield and it hadn't left, but Y/n's scent, touch and words had backed that thought to a corner of my mind.

She wondered, tucking one of my locks away from my forehead. "Sometimes, but not like you think." She must have sensed my inquiry because she explained further. "There are small gestures, jokes— things like that in you, that remind me of him." Her eyes were roaming all over my face, her hands bringing mines to her heart. "When you're happy, like tonight— I can't quite explain it but... it sorta seems like he's still here. So yeah, you could say I see a little bit of Fred when I look at you." Her eyes finally met mines. "It's not a bad thing— you love him so much that we can still see him through you."

"Loved." I corrected her, my thumb drawing circles on the back of her palm. "He's dead." A tear rolled down my cheek, but Y/n caught it with her fingertips before it could reach the pillow.

"Love never dies, Georgie." Her replied seem to carry more significance that someone would see at first sight, but I was too tired to discern it.

I couldn't tell if she had scooted closer, or if I had unconsciously leaned on, but the tips of our noses were nearly touching.

Initially, she didn't attempt to put more distance between us, and I couldn't help but let my hopes get high. I waited for a sign, something that would let me know I could close the gap between our lips —oh, how I craved to feel her lips—, but the sign didn't come and we stayed like that for what seemed like an eternity before she casted down her eyes, immediately breaking the spell.

"Goodnight, Y/n." I whispered, turning my back to her.

"Goodnight, George." She mumbled back, coming closer to cuddle me.

[fellulahh]

The Point of No Return, Part 4/???

Read Parts 1-3 here!

—

“Until tomorrow, my dear.” He smiled, “I thank you again for coming.”

“The pleasure is all mine, my Lord.” MC answered.

“Mm.” He smirked at her before turning away again, leaving the room.

—

By the time MC had returned to the House of Lamentation, night had drawn. She’d completely lost track of time while at the palace. If it hadn’t have been for Mammon texting her, she probably would have been even later.

When she made her way through the door, she wasn’t surprised to find the entranceway completely empty. It was quite normal for every brother to disappear to their rooms at this time.

Shutting the door behind her, MC hung up her coat on the nearby coatrack before feeling a small rumble in her stomach. It’d been hours since she’d eaten and it’d gotten to the point where she couldn’t ignore her body’s cry for food.

Despite how late it was, MC made her way to the kitchen to prepare some food as she’d missed dinner. She had promised Mammon she’d meet him in his room but on this occasion her cravings came first.

Entering the kitchen, she began pottering around the room searching for various bits she could use to cook up something to eat. But in the end, after realising Beel had already raided the kitchen, she settled for some toast.

Pulling some slices of bread out of the packet, she dropped them into the toaster before pushing down the button. While MC waited, she rested against the kitchen counter, scrolling through her D.D.D.

So engrossed in the various posts she was viewing on social media, MC hadn’t heard the footsteps that were approaching the room.

Having heard the front door open from his study, Lucifer soon left his desk after realising MC had returned home.

The eldest demon had a stern look on his face having spent the whole evening worrying about the human’s whereabouts. Yes, he knew she was going to the palace but he hadn’t thought it’d be for the whole evening!

For hours Lucifer had been assuming the worst, fearing that something had happened to MC. But with the looming work that was stacked on his desk, he attempted to shift the human from his mind while he worked.

Although angry, Lucifer had never felt more relief when he realised she’d returned home.

Appearing in the doorway of the kitchen, Lucifer examined MC and the various cutlery and food that surrounded her.

“Toast?” He questioned, immediately getting her attention as he left her startled.

“Lucifer,” MC breathed, surprised to be seeing him out of his study, “Are you alright?”

“I am now that I know you’re safe.” He answered, stepping into the room with that permanent serious look on his face, “I hadn’t expected you back so late.” As he approached MC, his eyes narrowed at her choice of food again. “I hope this isn’t your dinner, MC.”

“There’s nothing else in the kitchen.” She shrugged, “It looks like Beel has swept the place empty.”

“You can’t just have toast though. When was the last time you ate?” He questioned.

“Since when did you mother me?” She laughed at his concern.

Although MC found the situation funny, Lucifer didn’t so much. “I am merely looking out for your well-being, MC.”

Tilting her head, the human narrowed her eyes at Lucifer. She was used to his usual serious tone but even this was a little bit much for him. Knitting her eyebrows, she continued to study his expression; soon catching his attention.

“What?” He asked her.

“You seem stressed.” She analysed.

“Well that’s very observant of you to notice.” He spoke back sarcastically, placing a hand over his chest.

“Alright.” MC answered simply, knowing she wasn’t going to get a proper conversation out of the stubborn demon.

Turning around, she grabbed the toast that had just popped up and reached for the butter. Losing her attention, Lucifer suddenly felt his body want to lurch toward MC.

“Wait,” he spoke up before clearing his throat, “I apologise for my behaviour. Yes I am stressed - you’re right. I hadn’t intended to take it out on you. But I insist you can’t just eat toast for dinner.”

Turning around slowly, MC stared at him as she took a bite out of her food. “Like I said, there’s nothing else.”

“Come with me.” He spoke in a much softer tone as his expression eased, “I still have my plate of dinner left untouched in my study. I’ll warm that up for you and we can talk there.”

“Are you not going to eat?” MC questioned him, raising her eyebrows.

“No.” He shook his head.

“Well I don’t know if I should take advice from a hypocrite!” MC remarked, causing Lucifer to roll his eyes.

“I am a demon, not a weak human like yourself.” He smirked. “I’m sure I can survive without one meal.”

MC scowled playfully at Lucifer but deep down she was entirely grateful that he was beginning to relax and lose the cold attitude he’d had.

Completely forgetting about her plans to meet with Mammon, she left the kitchen with Lucifer close by.

“Come on then, oh-so-powerful-demon.” MC spoke as she turned down the hallway, “your weak human is hungry!”

Although she was merely joking, hearing MC refer to herself as his human caused Lucifer’s expression to turn serious again.

“Hm.” He huffed to himself as he followed MC’s footsteps.

The pair soon entered Lucifer’s study and as MC walked through the door, she was met with a very welcoming warmth from the fireplace nearby.

“Make yourself comfortable.” Lucifer insisted as he brushed past her, making his way to his desk to grab the plate of food from it, “I’ll be back shortly.”

“Thank you.” She spoke softly as she plopped herself into one of the armchairs situated in front of the fire.

If it hadn’t have been for her grumbling stomach, MC could have easily fallen asleep right there in that moment. She’d always found comfort in Lucifer’s study. Perhaps it was because it was the only room in the house that actually reminded her of home.

Despite Lucifer being one of the most powerful demons in all of Devildom, his study felt humane. There were no remanence of anything demonic anywhere. But perhaps that’s because Lucifer didn’t want to remind himself of what he’d become.

Hearing footsteps returning to the room, MC glanced up at the door as Lucifer re-entered. She smiled softly at him as he brought over a tray with the food on it. A small chuckle left her throat after noticing the cup of tea he’d also made.

“Now how did you know i fancied a brew?” She questioned as he placed the tray on the table in front of her.

“Oh please.” He remarked, “you make yourself a cup of tea every night before you go up to bed.”

MC felt silly for questioning him. Of course Lucifer knew that fact about her - how wouldn’t the most observant demon she ever met not know?

“Now eat that up.” He demanded, “I’m not letting you leave this room until it’s gone.”

“This is a little drastic, don’t you think?” She laughed, beginning to cut up a piece of meat with a knife and fork.

“Ensuring your well-being is never drastic to me.” Lucifer insisted in a very serious tone.

The pair locked eyes momentarily with MC taken aback by his sudden intense attitude.

“Sorry.” She spoke quietly, “I should probably stop joking and thank you for even caring.”

Lucifer didn’t answer MC. He simply made his way back to his desk, took a seat on his chair and resumed where he’d left off with his paperwork.

As he worked, he never looked up at the human. Whereas MC on the other hand was the opposite. Every now and then she’d steal glances at Lucifer.

Perhaps one day she’ll be able to understand the mysterious demon and get an insight into that troubled mind of his.

It wasn’t long before MC finished her food and she was left sat in the chair with her cup of tea clutched firmly in her hands as she admired the warmth of the fire.

She was so content in her position that she didn’t want to leave and go up to bed.

Leaning forward to place her now empty cup on the table, she sat back in her seat and began tracing her mind back to earlier that evening. A smile appeared on her lips as Diavolo entered her thoughts.

It was so refreshing getting to know the Prince and having the chance to witness his personality when he doesn’t have the eyes of all of his people on him.

MC was left wondering what the next day would bring.

An hour had passed since Lucifer returned to his desk; although to him it felt much longer. Frustration was beginning to grow throughout his body as he stared at the words in front of him. It was growing so late in the evening that every paper looked the same to him.

Letting out a deep sigh, he glanced up from his desk as he prepared to turn in for the night. However, as his sight focused on the other side of the room, he was surprised to see MC still there. Only now she was fast asleep.

Lucifer blinked momentarily as a tiny blush appeared on his cheeks. His eyebrows knitted as he got up from his position and walked closer to the human.

With lips parted and eyes shut, MC breathed softly as she hugged herself in her slumber.

The sight of her caused Lucifer’s heart to turn soft. How could it be that a sleeping human could make him feel such awe?

Lucifer knew deep down that he had a soft spot for MC whether he wanted to admit it or not. And seeing her fall asleep in front of him was the proof that he needed to support that.

Shaking his head, he reached for a blanket that was draped over the back of another armchair before sweeping it gently across MC’s body. As he was tucking the edges underneath her body, he was surprised when he heard her voice mutter something softly.

“Are you going to tell me off for falling asleep here too?” She mumbled, not opening her eyes.

Knowing she couldn’t see him, Lucifer smirked to himself. “No, MC.” He breathed. “I won’t tell you off.”

—

A/N: okay so now we’ve seen some fluff with both Diavolo and Lucifer! How do you feel about this chapter and are you routing for anybody yet?

I always appreciate your feedback and love reading it!

[ericsonclan]

Never Forgotten

Summary: Gabe visits Mariana's grave and decides to take Nurgul with him this time.

Word Count: 2203

Read on AO3:

Gabe stood in the chapel. The warm lights of the early afternoon pierced through the boards on the colored glass causing oranges, yellow and reds to dance upon the floor. The faint smell of wax filled the rooms as the light flickered on the white candles that lit the metal chandeliers and the different candle stands around the room. Fresh flowers were placed around the memorial of those who New Richmond had lost.

Gabe’s eyes glanced at his dad’s picture. David stood in the photo smiling by a grill, ready to celebrate a day with his family. A lump of sorrow filled Gabe’s throat and he looked away. His hands focused on taking out Mariana’s old cassette player. Slowly he placed the headphones on and pressed the play button. A happy, quiet tune began to play, one that Gabe must’ve listened to a thousand times since Mariana’s passing. Gabe took a deep breath that came out shaky as his eyes traveled up to find his sister’s picture.

He soon spotted her bright smile and her eyes that shimmered with life and hope. Extending his hand, his fingertips brushed against the picture as tears began to slip down Gabe’s face. The song swelled slightly and Gabe felt his heart sting just as sharply as the day he had lost her. After a moment of letting himself cry Gabe recomposed himself and closed his eyes. He listened to a song that Mariana had always said helped her sleep during the early days when the world had ended.

As he became lost in the song Gabe could feel his sister within the music: her hopefulness, her light, her kindness. Gabe felt his body tremble slightly with emotion as more tears slipped down his face. After a moment of focusing on his sister an old memory bubbled forth within him. Immediately Gabe reached into his jacket and pulled out a small journal. Moving his fingers to the spot where the pencil was used as a placeholder he started to jot down the memory. Gabe was so caught up in writing down all he could remember that when he felt a hand on his shoulder he jumped. Spinning around he saw Nurgul with an apologetic smile on her lips.

“Hey, Nuri,” Gabe paused the music and took off the headphones, resting them on his shoulders. Quickly he brushed away his tears.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you or interrupt your private moment,” Nurgul’s eyes moved beyond Gabe and looked at the wall of all the people lost to this cruel new world.

“It’s okay, it’s no big deal,” Gabe’s hands reached up and began to pull his beanie over his ears. Nurgul picked up on this simple action, one that Gabe tended to do whenever he lied.

“No, it was. I came to tell you that your watchduty is in an hour but I can leave now and give you your space,” Nurgul smiled at her boyfriend then turned to leave when Gabe spoke up.

“Wait,”

Nurgul stopped and glanced back at Gabe’s tear-stained face.

“I don’t mind the company,” Gabe’s hands gripped onto the journal in his hands, his eyes heavy with sadness but deep within them Nurgul could tell he genuinely wanted her here.

“Okay,” She walked back over and stood by Gabe. The two shared a small smile before Gabe resumed writing down the memory. Nurgul stared down at the journal for a moment then forced her eyes to look away. It was rude to stare and it was even ruder to be invasive.

Gabe caught her glance before she could look away though. He didn’t say anything at first and continued to write. After a few minutes he placed the pencil back in the journal, closed it then put it back in his pocket. The two stood in silence, their eyes focused on the memorial.

“I was writing down a memory. It was a stupid, silly one,” Gabe shook his head with a  half-hearted laugh before sniffling. “Mari and I used to love watching Javi, my dad and Pipo, my grandpa, playing dominos. It always seemed like such a fun, competitive game even if it did make Yaya give my grandpa an earful,” Gabe smiled softly as he looked at the ground. “We used to want to play the game so badly but we were too impatient to learn the rules so we made our own. It got really competitive and silly. Mari kept making up ways for her to cheat and I would always get so grumpy whenever I lost but it was all in good fun,” Gabe inhaled sharply, trying to stop his emotions from overwhelming him once more. “I wanted to write down that since I’m the one that ended up living,” Gabe felt his throat tighten. He tried his best to not let tears slip down once more but soon they stained his face anew.

Gabe couldn’t stop the tears. He felt so alone in that moment until he felt a warmth take his hand. Glancing down, he saw Nurgul’s hand holding his. His eyes wandered up and he saw her kind, gentle smile. After taking a deep breath, Gabe continued. “Mari used to say that she wanted to write down anything and everything so she wouldn’t forget. She told me once that when she forgot a memory and it became gone, a small part of her disappeared too. So I want to honor her by writing down as many memories of her as I can.”

“I think that’s a beautiful way of honoring her,” Nurgul softly squeezed Gabe’s hand and he gave a short nod.

“I think she’d agree,” Gabe was quiet for a few seconds, waiting for the moment to pass before he asked Nurgul something. “Nuri? Would you like to come with me and visit Mari’s grave? I just think...” Gabe struggled to find the right words to express how much it would mean for Nurgul to visit his sister’s grave, even if it was just once.

“Of course, as long as you’re okay with that. I would like to pay respects to someone I’ve heard so many great stories about,”

Nurgul’s words made Gabe smile and he lifted up her hand, placing a warm kiss upon it.

“Thanks, I really appreciate it. We just have to find someone to drive us out there and grab some flowers,” Gabe placed away the cassette player and headphones and led the way out of the chapel.

“Okay,” Nurgul gently swayed their joined hands. She wanted Gabe to know she was right by his side as they stepped outside.

They were halfway through the courtyard when Gabe remembered he had watchduty. “Shit, I forgot I have watchduty in an hour. I don’t want to put pressure on this visit,” He swore under his breath and tried to shake away the frustration that was building up inside of him.

“It’s okay. I’ll ask Mia or Jimmy and see if they’re okay with switching shifts,”

“Really?” Gabe looked somewhat surprised by his girlfriend’s offer.

“Yeah, this is more important,” Nurgul got on her tiptoes and pressed a kiss to Gabe’s cheek then slipped her hand out of his. “I’ll meet you here in fifteen,”

“Okay,” Gabe gave a small wave, a happy smile on his face as he watched Nurgul run off to see if she could switch shifts for him. After waiting a moment longer Gabe walked off to find some flowers and a driver.

Fifteen minutes moved by quickly and soon Gabe was on his way back to the courtyard, two bouquets of purple and white hyacinths in his hands and Noah strolling beside him. Once he was in sight of the courtyard he noticed that Nurgul was already waiting for him. Her foot dragged absentmindedly across the ground as she patiently stood there until her gaze moved up and she spotted Gabe. Immediately a gentle warmth overtook her eyes and she gave a smile. Gabe walked forward and gave Nurgul a quick kiss.

“Any luck?”

“Yeah, Jimmy immediately said he had somewhere to be when I went to ask him but I got Mia to switch watchduty times with you.” Nurgul noticed the small flicker of annoyance in Gabe’s eyes at the news of Jimmy but it soon disappeared.

“Classic Jimmy. Glad Mia was willing to switch. I got the flowers and Noah,” Gabe held up the bouquets then motioned to Noah who gave a friendly wave.

“Hey there, just here to give you two a ride to C n C’s auto stop and make sure no crawlers get the jump on you,”

“Thank you,” Nurgul smiled at her friend and Gabe quickly added a thanks of his own.

“Heh, it's fine. Besides, isn't this the third thanks you’ve given, Gabe?” Noah teased Gabe lightly then started to lead the way to the cars. The two bantered for a while about this, both trying to get Nurgul on their side but Noah knew it was pointless to try soon enough. While Nurgul did stick by him and banter for a bit she always leaned more towards Gabe’s side.

The casual conversation lasted for a little while longer as they drove but as they approached the destination Gabe grew quiet. His hand held onto Nurgul the entire drive there, his grip slowly becoming tighter when Noah stopped the car.

“Let me just clear out those crawlers. Stay put,” Noah smiled back into the rearview mirror then got out of the car. Taking out his knife he made fast work of the living dead, their blood and brain matter soon slick on his blade and his shirt. After a few minutes he opened the car door. “Got some goop on my new shirt but besides that everything’s good. You ready?” His eyes met Gabe’s who gave a nod.

The three were shortly on their way to Mariana’s grave. A small wooden gravemarker that Javi and Gabe made stood in the pile on dirt.

As they approached the spot Gabe’s hand let go of Nurgul’s and he walked forward. “Hey there, Mari. Sorry I haven’t visited in a while. Javi gets worried whenever I come out here but don’t worry, I brought some people to watch my back. No muertos are gonna get me today,” Gabe smiled at the grave but the gesture didn’t reach his eyes. With a dry swallow he tried to find the right words, his lips parting for a moment before closing once more.

Gradually all of his walls were falling down, his emotions open and on display as he wore his heart on his sleeve. Kneeling down, he placed the bouquet of white and purple hyacinths on the grave. “I brought someone here with me today. Someone that I’ve been meaning to bring by for a while. I’ve told you a lot about her.” Gabe glanced back. “Nuri,”

Nurgul picked up on the subtle signal and walked forward. Slowly she knelt beside Gabe and placed down her own bouquet, paying respects for one that she admired deeply. “I’m glad I finally got to pay my respects. I’ve heard a lot about you. It would’ve been nice if we had gotten to meet,” Nurgul smiled at the gravemarker as tears began to trickle down her face. “I hope wherever you are you’re at peace.” She prayed that this small gesture honored the lost sister of the one she cared so much for. Nurgul stared at the grave for a moment longer before she heard sniffles beside her. Looking over, she saw Gabe blinking rapidly in a fruitless attempt at stopping his tears.

Gabe took a shaky breath when he felt Nurgul’s hand on top of his. “I think she would’ve really liked you. Probably tease me a lot about stupid shit. I wish she was here to tease me,” Gabe inhaled sharply, his voice becoming caught in his throat as copious tears fell from his eyes.

Nurgul turned to face Gabe and silently wrapped her arms around him. “Thank you for letting me visit your sister,”

Her words made Gabe’s eyes grow blurrier with tears and he grasped onto Nurgul, his emotions overtaking his body. Nurgul held onto her boyfriend tightly, letting him cry for as much time as he needed. Allowing him to show vulnerability in a world that did not always give you that luxury. Moments passed as Gabe continued to sob until he grew quiet but held onto Nurgul regardless. “Thank you for coming with me,” He whispered, his head tucked close to Nurgul’s ear.

“Of course, I’m here for you,” Nurgul held Gabe closer and he seemed to melt in her embrace.

“I’m here for you too. I’m gonna be strong,” Gabe’s words were muffled as he hid his face in her gray cardigan.

“You already are,” Nurgul whispered and soon the two of them grew quiet, enjoying the hug for as long as they could. Eventually Gabe drew back just a bit, enough to hold the gaze of Nurgul’s dark eyes in his own, and began to share more stories of Mariana while Nurgul listened, smiling softly at the tales and the fact that Gabe’s smile had finally returned to his eyes.

[elsanna-shenanigans]

April Contest Submission #3: Prism of White

Words: ca. 5,200 Setting: Modern AU Lemon: No CW: none

Light filtered through the window casting the room in a golden glow. Papers lay crumpled and torn on the coffee table and the floor beneath. Anna tossed her sketchbook on the table and threw her pencil next to it. Weeks passed and she still didn’t have another good idea for her next art piece. Her hands grasped a pillow on the couch beside her. Her freckled face buried in the soft cushion, a muffled groan joining the white-noise of the television in the background.

Art had been a passion of hers ever since her stubby toddler fingers first grasped that pack of cheap crayons. Her parents laid scrap paper out in front of her at the kitchen table. The adults left the room shortly after thinking little Anna would be occupied for a little more than five minutes.  Overjoyed with all the colors in the box, now strewn over the table some rolling to the floor, little Anna picked up the green and began to scribble in swirls and loops like any child does. Her mother came back ten minutes later to check on her and grab a cup of afternoon coffee. A gasp tore from her throat and her blue eyes widened at the site. The walls had been little Anna’s first canvas.

She laughed at the memory, the sound muffled by the pillow still pressed against her face. The scolding she received after that event lost to the feeling of joy at the colors swirling around her. Back then art had been carefree and fun. Now the blank pages in her sketchbook mocked her with that textured whiteness.

Twenty-one years of sketching, painting, throwing color on canvas’ of varying degrees, making a life out of it. A dream come true. One that would have been impossible if not from the support of her friends and family. One person in particular. Elsa.

Little Elsa could light up Anna’s world by merely stepping into the room. She used to be so very timid and quiet, often opting to hide in the corner with a book than engage with the other kids her age. Anna managed to pull her into their little games anyway.

As the two grew older their interests diverged slightly. They both found joy in the arts, joining in theater at school for fun, playing and listening to music (although their tastes differed vastly at times), and studying the history behind all forms of art. A bond formed and kept them close even when one started painting and sketching while the other used words to color with.

A writer’s search history and an artist’s eye left plenty for friends to laugh and grow concerned about.

Anna lifted her head from the pillow feeling someone fiddle with her twin braids. She smiled already knowing who it was behind her.

“What are you so distressed about?” Elsa hummed out sweetly. Her  eyes swept over the paper littered around and the discarded sketchbook. “Can’t think of a good idea?”

Anna groaned again and buried her head back in the pillow. Her reply came muffled and she knew Elsa wouldn’t be able to understand a word of it. This problem she had wasn’t that much of a big deal. Anna knew that. Every artist had periods where they couldn’t draw. An artblock as she so affectionately called it. But this felt different. She had ideas. The vision of what she wanted to draw sat crystal clear in her mind’s eye, but when she picked up the pencil each stroke on the page felt weighted. She knew what she wanted to put on the paper. She hated each stroke she made and the finished result. Weeks of this and the stress of not creating made her head spin. The ride she had been on had stopped with her sitting upside down unable to do anything.

The couch dipped beside her as Elsa sat down. Pale hands pulled the pillow Anna was secretly hoping would suffocate her until freckled cheeks and a pouty lip were visible. Anna whined and reached out for the cushion. Elsa held it out of reach ignoring the dark spot where Anna drooled on it.

“Ah-Ah,” Elsa wagged her finger. Anna’s shoulder slumped forward in despair. “You can get the pillow back and resume your little, um , whatever you were doing after you tell me what’s wrong.”

Sea-green eyes lowered to the open sketchbook, a frown settled on her lips. “I - I hate everything I make and it’s driving me crazy.”

Elsa set the pillow aside and shuffled closer to Anna. She gave her knee a reassuring squeeze and gently asked, “Is it one of your artblocks?”

Anna shook her head, braids swaying. “No, this is different. I know what I want to draw, I have the motivation to draw, but I can’t seem to like what I make. I hate the finished result, even if it looks how I wanted.” Her eyes glistened with frustrated tears, “It’s been like this for weeks and I’m going insane trying to fix it.”

Elsa cupped her cheek, running her thumb soothingly over the skin. Anna nuzzled into her palm, eyes fluttering shut at the coolness of her skin. “Anna,” she opened her eyes to see an amused smirk dancing on pink lips, a glint of humor dancing in blue eyes, “is this your first burnout?”

Her whole body stilled at the question. Burnout had been something she knew her artist friends over the internet talked about. How it could hit someone suddenly or slowly creep on through the years. The former could usually be seen coming and dealt with by short breaks, but the latter often crippled careers as it snuck in through the cracks undetected and infected everything slowly like a poison. Anna gasped lightly at the realization.

The ride she had been on for the majority of her adult life (granted it had only been 3 years since she graduated high school) was fast paced and constantly moving. She did not stop or get off, only urging it to move faster and faster. The need to create and improve outweighed any thought or concern the stress her body and mind were put under. She ignored all the signs, the warnings people told her to look for and now the stress had crushed her.

“What am I gonna do?” Her voice came out broken and unsure. Burnout was a completely foreign field for her. There was no map for her, no field guide to help her navigate through this problem. People mention taking breaks and stepping away from art for awhile to recharge, but that seemed impossible. How could Anna stop creating, when all she wanted to do was create?

“Is this new project for a client?” Elsa noticed the distress on Anna’s face and dropped her hand down from her cheek to grasp shaking ones.

“No, it’s one I plan to sell, or have prints made for my shop.”

Elsa nodded, “Okay. And do you have any client work lined up for the month?”

Anna answered in the negative. She had started a new system for her works where certain months she decided not to take on any client work. It was an attempt not to be too overwhelmed working on custom pieces that allowed her the freedom to work on her own as well. The system worked fairly well until this burnout happened. At least it happened now instead of when she had to work on pieces for clients.

“Okay, okay we can definitely work with this,” she breathed out a plan already forming in her mind. She knew Anna wouldn’t take a break willingly, that wasn’t her style. She would draw and paint until her hands fell off and even then she’d learn to use her feet instead. Nothing would stop her, not even the end of the world. The complete opposite of Elsa who procrastinated her own projects till motivation was high or the deadline approached. She often wondered how they never drove each other crazy doing things so differently. Instead of finding a reason she just blamed it on love. It was better not to question it anyway.

“Anna,” she turned and faced the younger woman determinedly, prepared for protestation, “do you trust me?”

Anna cocked an eyebrow and smirked. “Of course I do, silly. It’s part of why I married you.”

Elsa smiled and held her tongue to keep from commenting. That experience would be one she would never forget. She at her wife, eyes bright and said,

“Then you’ll understand what I’m about to do.”

Anna’s gut twisted in apprehension. She trusted Elsa with her life, but the twinkle in pale blue eyes told her not all of this would be a pleasant experience.

—-

“Anna, what color is the sky?”

From her position in the passenger seat of the car Anna scowled, her eyes screwed shut in a desperate attempt to fall back asleep. Elsa refused to let her in on the plan the day before, only telling her to pack a days worth of clothes and food and then promptly took all her art supplies and locked them inside a large chest. She never quite figured out why they had a large empty chest lying around and when she asked Elsa the older girl shrugged saying something about secrets.

“What.” Anna grumbled confused at the question and irritated at being woken up at three in the morning and rushed out of the house.

Elsa glanced at her from the driver’s seat. “What color is the sky?” She turned her attention back to the road, very much awake and relaxed. The half empty cup of coffee sitting in the cup holder helped.

“What kind of question is that? The sky is blue!” Anna twisted over and leaned her head on the window, arms folded across her chest.  Elsa still had yet to tell her where they were going and only mentioned a three hour car ride. That left plenty of time for her to catch up on sleep if her wife would let her.

“No, not - “ Elsa laughed at herself, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I meant what color is the sky right now?”

Anna cracked one eye open and grimaced at the passing street light that blinded her. “Black,” she stated matter-of-factly. Elsa hummed a smile on her face. She let Anna sleep the rest of the way, picking up and sipping her coffee. The low songs of the radio filling the silence in a quiet peace. She didn’t care for the station, but it was one of Anna’s favorites. The little things would make the difference on this trip.

Barely any time had passed, that’s what it felt like to Anna anyway, before a hand on her shoulder gently shook her awake. “What is it now,” she sighed tiredly and shuffled further into the car door. When she agreed to whatever Elsa had planned, losing sleep hadn’t even crossed her mind. She knew she was being unfair to her wife. Elsa only wanted to help. The stress of her burnout had taken its toll without consent and Anna wanted nothing more than to curl up in a corner and sulk. Sleep was the closest she could get right now, but the woman driving had other plans.

“What color is the sky now,” she asked eagerly. Her pale hand fell away and gripped the steering wheel again.

Anna squinted at the light outside. The night had faded to be greeted by the light of the sun just peeking over the horizon. Reds and oranges bled into pale blue as the orb of yellow and white ascended slowly. Any other day the she might have appreciated seeing the sunrise, she might have stared at the way the light shone and glistened along Elsa’s skin, bathing her in rays of gold. But it only annoyed her at having the same question asked in place of sleep. Still she answered,

“Red.”

Her eyes closed again with the plan to catch more sleep. Elsa didn’t bother her after that. She sipped her fresh cup of coffee, having stopped for gas before the sunrise. Anna grumbled under her breath adjusting to get comfortable in her seat again. Pink lips turned up at the corner in amusement. Anna may be grumpy beyond belief this morning and she knew it was her doing. The outcome of this trip will be worth it. Elsa knew it, could feel it in her bones. She could only hope Anna didn’t throw her in the lake as payback when they got there.

Elsa smirked watching, pulling out a pair of sunglasses and slipping them on. The day was only beginning. The coffee singed her tongue as she took another sip.

If Anna did throw her in the lake, she made sure to have plenty of jokes ready.

Gravel crunched under the tires as the car pulled off the main road. The road itself wasn’t too bad in terms of a drive. Anna woke up quietly glancing around at the trees and greenery around them. She said nothing to tell Elsa she was awake and continued to stare out the window. The sight felt familiar, she knew this place but couldn’t quite care enough to place it. Sleep still clouded mind and even if it was Wednesday she liked to sleep in late and stay up late instead. This whole early to bed and early to rise business wasn’t for her.

A light chuckle from her left told Anna all she needed to know. “There’s hot chocolate for you since you’re not the biggest fan of coffee.” Elsa never took her eyes off the road and merely motioned to the cup holder between them.

“Thanks.” Anna took the cup nearly dropping it. No protective sleeve saved her from burning fingers, not even the paper cup itself. “Geez, why’s it so hot!” She glared at her sister.

“Didn’t know how long you were going to stay asleep so I asked them to make it extra hot.”

“Extra hot,” Anna guffawed, “This cup feels like it came straight out of Orodruin itself! You could have got me a protective sleeve for it or something!”

“I didn’t know how long you were going to sleep!” Anna folded her arms at Elsa’s response, “Besides, you always get annoyed at the sleeves opting to burn your fingers anyway.”

“Yes, but the cups are never that hot!”

Elsa only smiled.

The car slowed and stopped with a slight jolt. Anna hadn’t touched her drink again still waiting for it to cool down from Mount Doom level temperatures. She figured out why this place had seemed so familiar. Her parents used to take her camping out here toward the end of summer, always running around the lake and sometimes taking a ferry over to the small island.

“I grabbed us a backcountry permit if you wanted to stay away from the normal campsites.” Elsa held up the piece of paper before tucking it into her jacket pocket. Anna hummed her agreement and stretched in her seat.

“I’m gonna find the bathroom then we can hike to wherever.” She ducked out of the car, breathing in the fresh air. A warm feeling of nostalgia washed over her at the familiar sight. She hadn’t come back to this park in years. Anna walked across the parking lot toward the public restroom. Coming back to the lake hadn’t even crossed her mind. It’s almost sad really. To forget about a place she once loved so deeply, have it take up a corner of her mind as a memory she kept but never thought about.

She turned the faucet off and shook stray water drops from her hands, wiping the remaining wetness on her jeans. Anna never trusted the automatic air dryers.

When she arrived back to the car, Anna bit back a bark of laughter. Elsa had strapped each and every pack and bag to herself and looked overloaded, but all too eager like a puppy. She smiled broadly at Anna and handed her the much cooler cup, “Come on, let’s go! I know of the perfect spot!”

Anna took the cup, her shoulders shaking as she held in her laughter.

“Wait, Elsa. Let me carry some things.” Elsa paused mid-step and tilted her head. All the coffee had gone to her brain in the most adorable way. “How did you even manage to hold all the bags, even mine?” Anna pointedly looked at the deep green duffle bag with a bright orange patch on the side.

“I played a lot of tetris as a kid.” She shrugged but gave Anna two of the bags anyway.

Anna adjusted the strap of a bag on her shoulder. “Alright, now show me this perfect spot.”

The blonde grinned and grabbed Anna’s hand practically dragging her along toward the trail and into the bush. Anna could only keep up and pray her hot chocolate didn’t spill.

—-

Anna had to admit the spot Elsa had picked was perfect. A little spot hidden behind dense shrubbery. Well off the path and if someone did make it this far the thorn bushes were certainly a discouragement. She knew she’d be picking the sharp thorns out of her clothes for a while and if it weren’t for the view and the feeling of peace she’d make Elsa do it without a second thought. Anna’s had her second thought and is still intent on making Elsa do the work.

“Nice view, right?” Elsa wiped the dirt off her hands stepping over to Anna. She had finished setting up the tent and decided to see what was keeping her wife. The view itself looked over the entirety of the lake and the mountains surrounding it.  The trees swayed in the breeze.

“It’s beautiful.” Anna tucked a piece of hair back into place. Elsa stepped up beside her. They stared at the scene in silence. A sense of peace forming around them. Anna closed her eyes listening to the birds singing in the trees and the wind rustling the branches. The smell of the air and the sun on her skin eased the tension in her shoulders she didn’t realize had been there. Anna felt free like she could step off the overlook and just fly. Elsa smiled at the content look on her face.

“Anna,” the red-head hummed and turned to face her, “what color is the sky?”

The question had her sighing exasperatedly. How many times would she ask that damned question. It didn’t make sense. She had answered it twice already. Inhaling deeply, Anna decided not to let this ruin the moment. She looked up at the sky, fluffy clouds dotting the expansive space.

“Blue. It’s blue.”

Elsa made no comment. Anna would have yelled at her but the pure love in pale blue eyes killed the thought before it formed. She found herself smiling back and shaking her head lightly. “You’re lucky I love you so much.”

Elsa chuckled, “I know. Now come on, let’s go exploring a bit.”

Anna followed eagerly. Exploring she could do.

—-

Night life in the forest seemed impossibly loud compared to the day. Anna didn’t mind much. She found the noise comforting in a way. All the little life coming out with the safety of darkness. Comfortable now that the sun has gone and they can hide in the shadows of the night. She could understand it. The night offered a sort of peace the day could not. She loved the sun, loved the hustle and bustle of day life, but the night hit differently. She closed her eyes, a soft smile on her lips. The day’s activities replayed in her mind’s eye.

After running around, revisiting old trails and memories and making some new ones, the two women sat around a little fire. Anna made Elsa pick out all the thorns and burrs while she roasted marshmallows. While Elsa didn’t agree with s’mores before dinner she let it slide this once.

They relaxed after that, Anna rigged a stick with fishing gear and went fishing. She didn’t catch anything. She came back soaking wet and Elsa only raised a brow. She changed into some dry clothes and sat by the fire to get warm. Elsa turned from her book then, a cheeky grin on her face and said,

“You know I love it when you -” Anna smacked her before she should finish.

Now they lay peacefully staring up at the stars.

“Anna,” Elsa started in the quiet. Anna hummed in acknowledgment before her mind jump started back to nearly every quiet moment previously,

“You better not ask me what color the sky is or I swear to god you will find yourself at the bottom of the lake!”

The crickets chirped.

“What hue doth the heavens above appears to thine viewing orbs?”

Anna laughed. She laughed loud and hard. She knew Elsa would find a way to rephrase the question the second she threatened her, but she never expected her to phrase it like that. She rolled onto her side and clutched her stomach from the force of her laughter. “I-I can’t -” she wheezed, tears pricking the corners of her eyes, “I can’t breath.”

“You should have let me ask the question normal then.” The cheekiness in her voice had Anna swatting blindly behind her. Her hand connected with nothing but air.

“Fine, this is the last time I’m answering that stupid question,” Anna finally said after she stopped laughing and caught her breath. She rolled back to look at the sky and exhaled deeply a smile on her face, “Black, the sky is black.”

“Wrong.”

Anna propped herself up on her elbow. Wrong. The first response back to her answers and it was to tell her, Anna, that she answered wrong.

“What, how can I be wrong? Are you seeing the same sky I’m seeing?” Anna grit her teeth ready to fully argue her point.

“No, no calm down, feisty pants. Right now you could argue it’s black, or a very deep blue.”

“Then how am I wrong?!”

Elsa kept her gaze on the sky. “I asked you three four times today what color the sky was. Only two of the answers were the same. Can you explain that?” “The sky changes colors, you numpty.”

“So what color is the sky then if it changes?”

Anna didn’t have an answer to that. Elsa turned to face her, the moonlight making her blue eyes glow in the night.

“What color do you say the sky is then,” Anna asked, moving closer to Elsa. The night breeze had a bit of a chill, but she didn’t feel like getting a jacket. Her arm brushed against her wife’s.

“If you asked me what color the sky is, anytime of day or night, I’d tell you it’s white. I know it’s crazy, but think about it. In general people say the sky is blue, but it’s not always blue. You said it yourself, the sky changes colors, so why is it blue then?” She raised a hand and traced along various constellations as she spoke. “Is it because that’s the color we see it as mostly. Blue during the day? The history behind it is actually fascinating, but I won’t go into that. But the sky can be any color depending on when you look. Black, dark blue, orange and red, yellow and pink, purple and light blue, even green. The sky isn’t just one color or one shade. It’s all of them all the time, we just only see what the light shows us. That’s why I say it’s white. White reflects all colors, the sky cycles through the colors based on a bunch of scientific stuff that I’m a bit too tired to get into. I didn’t really prepare to get into that bit anyway.” she laughed at herself.

Anna lay in silence. She never really thought about it like that.

“But why white, why not black?”

Elsa sucked in a small breath before answering, “Black is the absence of colors. If the sky was black that’s all we’d see. A black hole sucking the colors away and leaving nothing behind but darkness. That’s why it’s white and not black.”

“Geez, that took a depressing turn.”

Elsa hummed and entwined her fingers with Anna’s. “Think of it as a prism. The sun shines through and casts the colors fresh and new through the day.”

“A blank canvas.” Anna found herself mumbling aloud. A blank canvas to be painted each day in the same ways that vastly differed if you looked hard enough. The subtle hues shifting day to day, the contrast of reds and oranges against purples and blues. All of it spinning endlessly in a cycle, a prism of color splattered across a canvas of white that never is seen as white.

The two remained watching the stars for a bit longer. The little dots of color splattered across the dark sky. Almost a reverse of my freckles. Anna mused to herself. The crisp air raised goosebumps on her arms.

Anna went to sleep that night, snuggled in her wife’s arms, feeling so refreshed and full of love she thought it might overflow. And it did. Her emotions flowed over in little drops that ran down her cheeks and she whispered over and over how much she loved Elsa. In turn with each ‘I love you’ a kiss was placed on her head, her cheek, her lips, and her body squeezed a bit tighter.

The white sky, painted with the color of night, left them to rest peacefully. The moon watching over them.

The trunk slammed shut and all the bags and trash were loaded in. Not nearly as neatly as before but as long as it wasn’t falling out Anna didn’t care. She awoke buzzing with renewed energy ready and eager to get back to work. Her burnout long forgotten. The three hour car ride didn’t seem so long even though Anna sat wide awake the entire trip. Elsa would probably need a day to recover from the amount of talking Anna did in that small time. Maybe a new book and quiet day in a coffee shop or a day spent curled up in her bed with nothing but mindless games to entertain herself with. Anna made a note to thank Elsa for forcing her out for a day, whatever she wanted.

Anna went to work the moment she stepped through the doorway. Pencil marks flew across the page in hurried fashion almost as if the vision would fade before she could get it down. Supplies were strewn out over the kitchen table and counter tops as Anna fell into what Elsa called ‘The detonation zone’. It was a mess, but also the time and place where Anna seemed to get the most work done.

Guess I’m not cooking. Elsa thought and picked up the phone. She was kinda in the mood for pizza anyway.

Pale blue eyes watched from where she leaned against the wall as the blur of auburn worked in a frenzy. Her movements were both hurried and agonizingly slow to preserve the details in a way only Anna managed to do. A mesmerizing sight she could watch for hours if not for the delivery man ringing her doorbell.

She made sure Anna knew of the food sitting in the living room.

“Okay, thank you!” Came the reply from the kitchen. Elsa chuckled and shook her head taking her own slice or two of pizza. She disappeared into their shared room for the rest of the evening. The one day trip seemed to have worked in Anna’s favor. Elsa made the mental note to schedule more day trips once in a while.

Time ticked by and Anna didn’t even notice. The pizza had gone cold and the sunlight faded away. The brush in her hand was set in the water cup for the last time.

“There.” Anna sat back finished. She smiled at the creation in front of her leaving it to dry as her stomach made known it’s need for food. The clock read late into the night, or early into the morning, depending on how you look at it. Maybe setting an alarm for food and breaks would be a good idea in the future. She decided it’d be worth a shot if only to save her from a stiff back at the end of the day.

Her paint stained hands grabbed a cold slice of pizza and promptly inhaled it followed by three more. The kitchen sat in a disastrous mess and the urge to put off cleaning up until the morning hit hard. Anna considered cleaning up the worst part about doing art. Elsa would likely clean up for her in the morning since she always woke up first. Anna knew that and decided not to let that happen. As much as Elsa said she didn’t mind and that’s what she signed up for by marrying her, Anna wouldn’t have it. Not after what she’d done for her the past day, or really since they first-started dating.

Anna turned the faucet on, warm water cleaning her stained hands, and she began the cleanup.

It wasn’t until around four in the morning that she finally headed to bed. The bedroom door creaked softly. Elsa snored softly, curled on her side snuggling a pillow. The sight made Anna fall in love with her all over again. Anna would never get tired of seeing her wife in such a peaceful and vulnerable state. Gently, she climbed into bed beside her.

“I love you.” she whispered and kissed Elsa’s cheek. Elsa let go of the pillow at the contact and fully snuggled against her wife. Anna wrapped her arms around her and kissed her softly again.

“I love you so much.”

Elsa woke to gentle rays of sun dancing across her face. Untangling herself from Anna she stepped outside of the room. She paused halfway closing the door and looked on fondly at the sleeping mess of her wife.

The kitchen was spotless, save for the canvas resting on the table. Even the sink was clean, supplies neatly drying on the rack where they were supposed to be. A smile graced her lips.

The coffee pot sputtered to life as it began brewing. It was only nine o’clock and Anna likely wouldn’t be up for another few hours. Being your own bosses had their perks. The brown liquid steamed as she poured it into a plain ceramic mug. The rich scent very much welcome this morning.

Anna would always scold her for drinking too much coffee. The thought brought another smile to her face. She really loved Anna and all that came with her.

Coffee in hand Elsa approached the canvas on the kitchen table. She made sure to stay for enough back that if something drastic happened her coffee would not stain the creation. She rounded the table and the sight made her pause. The colors and detail splattered across it showed just how much that camping trip had meant to her.

“Oh Anna,” her eyes lined with overflowing emotions as she took in the painting. “You’re still full of surprises.”

[mint-yooxgi]

Flip Side - Mark X Reader

Genre: Fluff

Pairing: Mark X Reader

Word Count: 1,888

A/n: Just a small idea I thought about the other night, I thought it was cute. Hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think!

A yawn escapes your lips as you bend down to unlock the gate to your workplace. Seeing as you’re one of the key holders, it’s your duty to open the store in the mornings when you’re scheduled, and today just so happens to be your turn. You work at a shoe store in the mall, which will be opening in about forty-five minutes.

Making it inside, you make sure to lock the gate behind you before opening hours. Moving to the backroom, you place your stuff down and take off your jacket. Clocking in, you open the registers and make sure everything is operating as per usual and that you’re ready to open.

Soon enough, ten o’clock rolls around and you’re flipping on all the lights and unlocking the front gate to open the store. The required playlist the company provides for you every month drifts through the speakers around the store and you let out another sigh. Mornings are always pretty quiet, especially when you’re by yourself.

Placing your keys in the backroom by your things, you walk back out onto the sales floor. Checking all the required duties once the store’s open takes no longer than fifteen minutes, and by the time ten thirty rolls around, you’ve opted to leaning on the front of the cash-desk with your arms crossed in front of your chest, watching people walk by in the hallway of the mall.

So far, you’ve had maybe one person come into the store for all of about two minutes. You can already tell that today is going to be a slow day and your coworker isn’t supposed to be in until one.

Taking another quick glance around the store, you push yourself off of the cash-desk and walk around it to the entrance of the backroom. You check your phone, standing with your body half in the entrance, and half on the sales floor. Looks like you got a few messages from your friends which you quickly reply to, before switching off your phone once more.

Luckily, a young couple walks in shortly afterwards, and asks for matching pairs of Vans, which you happily grab for them. You spend some time talking to them as they try on their shoes and by the time you’ve finished, you’ve managed to up-sell them on an extra pair of shoes each. They did say they were going on vacation soon.

Glancing at the clock, another half-hour has passed, and you nod to yourself. Seeing as there aren’t any customers in the store, you check your phone again. A smile tugs at your lips as you see a text from your best friend, Mark, saying he’s going to come and visit you for a bit while you’re at work. You text him jokingly to make it quick though, since you are at work, though from the urgency of the message, it looks like he wants to talk to you about something.

Not even fifteen minutes later, you notice Mark enter the store, shooting you a smile and a small wave in the process. You wave slightly back to him, seeing as you’re currently helping another customer.

He browses the store as you finish cashing your customer out, and only once you see them leave do you walk over to Mark and wrap him in a hug.

“Hey, it’s great to see you!” You smile, pulling away to look at his face.

“Well, I thought I’d stop by and surprise you, maybe keep you some company considering you’ve told me how slow it can be in the mornings,” he grins back, following you over to the front of the cash-desk where you resume your position of leaning against it.

“Where were you an hour ago when I needed you?” You tease, crossing your arms playfully while shaking your head.

“Damn, and here I was trying to be a nice friend,” he shakes his head right back. “I guess I’ll just leave if you don’t want my company, then.”

“No, no!” You laugh, “I’m sorry. I greatly appreciate my best friend coming to see me and keeping me company at work.”

You notice his lips twitch slightly downwards at the word ‘friend’, but he laughs along with you, able to cover it up smoothly. You furrow your brows.

“Actually that’s not the only reason I came to see you,” he admits, looking down at his feet.

“I figured as much,” you joke. “What’s up?”

He lets out a long sigh, “I have a dilemma.”

“Oh? And what might that be?” You ask, quirking a brow at him before turning your attention to greet the new customers that have just entered the store.

“I, uh, well,” he stammers, suddenly avoiding your gaze.

“Hold that thought, boo,” you say, moving over to attend to the customers that have caught your attention. Once you’ve grabbed the shoes they’ve asked you for, you keep on eye on your customers while you turn your attention back to Mark, “okay, what’s wrong?”

“Well, you see, there’s this person I like,” he begins to say.

“As you’ve mentioned,” you nod for him to continue as you lace up the other shoe for your customer.

“And, uh, I think, uh-“ he swallows somewhat nervously, and your eyes narrow slightly at how nervous he’s become all of a sudden, “I think I might ask them out.”

“Mark! That’s great!” You smile widely at him, as you hand the shoe to the customer, taking a few moments to see how they’re fairing with the Vans they’re trying on. As your customer checks themselves out in the mirror, you turn back to Mark, “look at you go, being all daring for once. Have you decided how and when you’re going to do it?”

“Uh, not yet,” he scratches the back of his head.

“Do you have any ideas?” You ask him, collecting the shoes from the customer since they’re ready to pay.

As you’re cashing out your customer, Mark comes over to stand at the opposite side of the cash-desk beside them.

“Well, I was thinking of just being honest with them,” he says, picking at his nails nervously.

“That sounds like a good idea,” you nod as you bag the shoes for your customer and gather their receipt. “Thank you, have a nice day!”

“Thank you!” The customer happily replies after taking their bag from you. Surprising to the both of you, they turn to Mark just before they leave, “don’t be so nervous about asking whoever it is you like out, you’re a cute guy, anyone would be lucky to have you!”

With that, they leave the store, leaving a stunned Mark with his jaw hanging open, causing you to start laughing at his expression. He pouts and you manage to quiet your laughter into small chuckles.

“They’re right you know,” you hum. “Not only are you a great guy, you’re really cute and anyone would be lucky to have you. And I’m not just saying that cause I’m your friend.”

At your words, the tips of his ears turn red and he avoids your gaze, “should I ask them today then?”

“Hell yeah!” You answer immediately. “The longer you wait, the longer you’ll just work yourself up about it, which will only make you more nervous to actually ask them out.”

“I don’t know,” he sighs, biting his lower lip.

“What’s the worst that could happen?” You quirk a brow.

“They laugh in my face,” he replies, somewhat disheartened at the thought.

“No,” you shake your head. “The worst is that they say no. On the flip side, they say yes, and you get to take your crush on a date!”

“I don’t know, maybe I should just wait,” he grumbles, eyes downcast.

“I thought you wanted to ask them out, though?” Your brow furrows slightly.

“I do, but-“

“But nothing!” You cut him off. “Here, how about this,” quickly checking around the store to make sure there aren’t any customers around, you lift a finger at Mark, indicating him to give you a moment. Rushing into the back room, you rummage around in your bag for the desired object you’re looking for. Coming back to stand behind the counter you hold up the coin for Mark to see clearly. “I’ll spin this coin on the counter and whatever side it lands on is what you’re going to do. Heads you ask them out today, Tails you ask them out another time. Whichever side you want it to land on most is what you really want to do.”

He finally meets your gaze, and you can see the nervousness swirling in them as he bites his lip once more, “okay.”

With a nod from you, you’re placing the edge of the coin on top of the counter, preparing to spin it. Glancing up at him one final time, you let out a breath before spinning the coin on the countertop.

A few moments go by with the both of you holding your breaths, gazes locked on the coin. You’re so focused on the coin, that you barely register Mark taking a small step closer to you while letting out a shaky breath.

“(Y/n), will you go out with me?” His voice is small, eyes once again looking at his feet as he picks at his nails.

“Don’t worry, Mark, you’ll- wait what?” Your eyes widen as you dart your gaze to his figure, mouth falling open slightly in surprise. The coin clatters on the table, slowing to a stop until a moment of silence passes between the two of you.

“Will you go out with me?” He repeats his question, a bit firmer this time, gaining a little more confidence as he notices you staring dumbfounded at him.

“You mean, all this time, the person you’ve been telling me that you’ve been crushing on, is me?” You blink, supporting yourself with both hands gripping the edge of the counter. You take a moment to yourself as a large smile spreads across your features. “Of course I’ll go out with you.”

“Uh…” now he’s the one who looks like a deer caught in headlights, voice coming out higher than usual. “You really mean that?”

“Of course I do, silly,” you laugh, and you can visibly see him relax.

“Cool. Cool,” he clears his throat. “What time do you get off work?”

“Five,” you grin, already knowing where this is going. “I’m not doing anything after work, either, in case you’re wondering.”

“Cool, cool,” he repeats. “How about I take you out for dinner then?”

“Sounds like a date,” you wink, and again, the tips of his ears turn red.

“Yeah, a date,” he echoes, a bashful smile pulling at his lips. “I’ll pick you up at five then.”

“Can’t wait,” you lean on the counter, waving at him as he begins to leave the store, giggling to yourself as he trips over the front table on his way out. What a cute boy.

Shaking your head slightly, you decide you should really get back to work. However, just before you do, you turn your gaze down to the coin that lays resting on the counter, curious to know what side it landed on. Heads.

[cobalttungsten]

MAG - Confession

[CLICK]

[Knock at the door, recorder crashing to the floor]

                                               Archivist

Oh… bloody hell.

[Louder] Who is it?

                                                Martin

[Door opens]

You said you wanted to record a statement?

                                             Archivist

Oh… yes, of course. Sorry, you’re just… earlier than I expected.

                                               Martin

Oh, I’m sorry I just had some time. I can come back later if you-

                                              Archivist

No it’s um, [Clears throat] a good as time as any I suppose.

                                                Martin

What statement did you need, if I may ask? Nothing overly weird has gone on lately… although I must admit that’s not setting the bar too high.

                                               Archivist

No, it’s really not. Although, today is more about a statement from… me.

                                                 Martin

Oh? Well, I’m sure you can take your own statement Mr. Head Archivist.

                                                Archivist

True, I can, but I find statements with another person present are more, how should I say it, impactful.

                                                  Martin

Oh, so you’re just worried people won’t believe you? Well, I can assure you that-

                                                 Archivist

[Sighs]

Believe me when I say that isn’t it. It’s just I’m not very good at this sort of thing.

                                                   Martin

John… are you okay? You’re looking a little flustered.

[Short silence]

You didn’t happen to find another book by that Leitner fellow did you?

                                                 Archivist

What? No, it’s noth-

                                                    Martin

It’s not another Prentiss is it?

                                                  Archivist

I promise it’s not-

                                                    Martin

Because I swear, this time they won’t surprise us by coming through the walls. That and I swear if they try to lay another hand on-

                                                   Archivist

Martin, calm down. It’s not another Prentiss, or Leitner. It’s nothing like that at all.

[Martin takes a deep calming breath]

                                                     Martin

Alright, if you say so.

[Short pause]

                                                  Archivist

Although, if I may, who was that you were getting so defensive over?

                                                     Martin

[Nervously] Oh, no one in particular. Just that I’d… you know, “Throw Down” as Tim would say.

                                                   Archivist

That man always did remind me more of a Yank than a proper Brit.

[John and Martin chuckle lightly, before resuming their awkward pause]

                                                     Martin

Well, what is the Statement about?

                                                   Archivist

W-well, you see it’s important I actually get it out. I’ve more or less just kept it to myself.

                                                      Martin

Yeah, that’s generally why we do Statements.

[John stutters inchorrently for a few moments before sighing]

                                                   Archivist

So, do you see what I’m trying to say?

                                                     Martin

I don’t even hear what you’re trying to say.

                                                   Archivist

What I’m trying to say is… what I mean is…

[A chair scrapes across the floor as Martin stands up]

                                                     Martin

Listen, you know I’m willing to help out with anything. But right now it doesn’t feel like you’re really wanting to, or ready, to give me your statement. I’ll just send in Tim or-

                                                    Archivist

Oh to hell with it… you try to fight these things.

[Distorted as Archivist uses his power] What is it you’re trying to say to Martin?

                                                      Martin

John… that’s just your reflection.

                                                    Archivist

I’ve had feelings for him for a while, it all started shortly after Prentiss attacked us. How attentive he was, how much he worried after me, the fact that he has been ready with tea right after I finished a Statement ever since Prentiss.

The fact that I can’t go a day without him accidentally bumping into me in the halls, on the way into the Institute… even the silly way he pretends to be busy with work till just after I’m done. He thinks I don’t know he’s waiting for me, but I do.

How often he defends me to the others, asking for their patience and understanding, and the fact that he understands the difficult position I’m in on a day-to-day basis. I don’t know when he decided to be this loyal, this helpful, hell… this attentive to my needs… even less so understanding how I ever earned it.

I mean, what have I done? I’ve grumped around, pretending day in and day out to not notice him, pretending to disbelieve almost everything that’s come our way, and yet somehow this… wonderful man, has attached himself to me. I don’t know how to tell him how much he means to me, and I know even less of how to tell him that I’m scared to hell and back to lose that.

[A long pause before either one says anything]

                                                    Martin

How long have you known you could do it to yourself?

                                                 Archivist

I, uh, didn’t. I just tried because it shouldn’t be that bloody hard to say something.

                                                    Martin

John, do you mean it?

                                                 Archivist

Well of course I bloody well mean it… why would I go through the trouble of embarrassing my-

[Martin cuts John off, a distinct if not rather passionate sound in the background]

[John chuckles quietly]

                                                      Martin

Just promise me one thing.

                                                   Archivist

What’s that?

                                                      Martin

We’re not telling Tim.

[John laughs]

                                                     Archivist

Hell no. Tim is the village gossip. If we told him, the whole building would know in like an hour, and several more explicit iterations of the truth.

                                                       Martin

[Martin chuckles, then sighs lightly.]

Yeah… true. Oh wait, didn’t you turn the recorder on right before I came in?

                                                      Archivist

[Shuffling]

Oh… bollocks.

[Click]

------------------------

[Click]

                                                          Elias

You owe me 50 pounds Tim.

[Elias laughing heartily]

[Click]

[pilot-boi]

Five Injuries Hidden: Chapter Three

Nora

Stuck between a rock and a hard place, not the best thing ever. He didn’t really need his ribs, right?

AO3 LINK

"Why did I ever agree to this?"

"Oh, shush Jaune."

This was the last time that Jaune ever did anything 'recreational'. This did not count for recreation by any definition that he knew of.

You see, it all started this morning, when Oscar, dear, sweet little brother who was going to get an ice-cube down his shirt, had the so-called brilliant idea of doing 'recreational' activities today, and being the awesome big brother that he was, Jaune had backed him up.

That was his first mistake.

They then decided, after ruling out sky-diving -no, Nora, sky-diving was not considered a recreational activity. Stop pouting- and skiing, that hiking was the best, most relaxing choice. On a rocky mountain-side. Thanks Ren.

So there they were, walking down the trail together, racing really, unknowing that even a simple hiking trail could be a true danger zone. Jaune had even started to enjoy himself, teasing and laughing... He let his guard down.

That was his second mistake.

Honestly, he should know better than to do that, he was a Huntsman. It was this mistake that landed them in their current situation.

If only he'd been a little bit faster... "Jaune. I can hear you beating yourself up from here. Quit it. It wasn't your fault."

"I'll stop when you do."

"...Touchè"

Without warning, there had been a sudden, distant roar of a landslide, and it had only gotten louder. Surprised, they had all stood on the quaking path, frozen for a few precious moments, before Yang whipped around with a roar: "MOVE!"

Screaming, they all ran for life and limb. But the rock slide was quickly catching up... And they never took into account that the path they were on could have become unstable too.

His third mistake... And the one he ended up paying for the most.

Honestly, this had been a disaster in the making since the beginning. It was a miracle that he was even still alive.

Jaune had been the closest to the edge, and with one wrong step, the weakened path gave way right out from under him. With a shriek, which he would forever deny, he failed to keep his balance and desperately tried to grab the crumbling ledge as it dumped him off the path.

Nora, in a rare show of stupidity in Jaune's opinion, because he is not worth risking her life for why did she not see that, stopped running for her life and went back to pull Jaune back up.

The path couldn't hold them. It couldn’t even hold him, let alone a whole other person.

They dropped over the edge like the stones that came tumbling, rushing, roaring after them. And, just barely heard through the deafening turmoil made of natural forces, Jaune heard his teammate give a whoop of exhilaration, or maybe fear, and the world came to a sickening halt.

It was... dark. Quiet now. There was no sound, except his own wheezing breath and the sharp agony that was his side. No. Wait, there was someone else breathing down here too.

And that was how half of team JNPR found themselves trapped in a rather small pocket on the side of the crumbling mountain side, buried under the rock slide. Stuck until the others found them.

With broken ribs, in his case. Not that Nora knew that, of course. If she did, she would just worry about him, and he couldn’t have her focusing on him right now. All her attention had to be turned towards getting out of here, and not on him.

Jaune locked his jaw to keep from screaming profanities as he felt his broken ribs agonizingly rub up against each other, and shifted as gently and slowly as he could. The knight blindly felt along the thick stone walls, trying to find his oddly quiet teammate.

Nora wasn’t exactly the least chatty on their team, that award went to Ren, so her silence was more than a little off-putting.

Finally connecting to something decidedly not stone, a vague sense a triumph bubbled in Jaune's chest as Nora sputtered. "Jaune, that's my face!"

He yanked his hand back with a startled yelp, that was a little more high-pitched than normal as he had jostled his broken ribs. "Sorry! I was just trying to see where you were."

Nora huffed. "If you wanted to see where I was, why didn't you use your Semblance? Glowy hands and all that jazz."

“Oh.” He felt stupid now for not thinking of it. Maybe he’d hit his head during his impromptu tumble.

The grim, oppressing silence came back in full force, slowly eating away at them. Jaune groaned, lightly banging the back of his head on the wall of stone behind him, before struggling to his feet and gingerly making his way to the pile of rubble that was blocking their way out.

"What are you doing?" Jaune got the vague impression of an eyebrow being lifted as he started shifting the rubble.

"I..." Grunt. "Am going to see if I can get us out of here." Jaune huffed as he attempted to move a particularly unwieldy stone. His ribs kindly reminded him that, no, he was not, in fact, going to be moving that rock. Grumbling, he relented and moved onto the next one.

His ribs told him that, no, he wasn't moving that one either.

An exasperatedly fond sigh sounded from behind him and the sound of feet shuffling closer alerted Jaune to the fact that Nora was now beside him. "Move over silly, let me have a try."

“It’s all yours,” he said, a little reluctantly, careful not to let out the groan of pain that was fighting to escape. Jaune shuffled back to his spot against the wall, knowing that he would hinder more than help. Didn't make him feel any better though.

There became a rhythm as the minutes passed. Or hours. Or days. It was pitch freaking black, there was no way of telling.

Wheezey inhale. Sharp pain. Nora grumbled at the rocks.

Exhale. Rocks move.

Inhale. Pain. Pebbles scatter.

Exhale. Nora groaned in exertion.

Inhale. Pain. A boulder thumped.

Exhale. The rocks shift.

Inhale. Fresh air? Pain. A penetratingly loud sound of triumph.

Exhale. Light! "Well, why don't you look at that! Light does still exist! Looks like we'll be out of here in no time!" Nora cheered, her silhouette punching the air in triumph.

Jaune winced, his eyes closed against the stabbing light, tired but not willing to show it. "You think we'll be out before the sun sets?"

"We will be if I have anything to say about it."

The air was lighter as Nora resumed digging through the blockade, the pattern resuming with renewed vigour.

Soon enough, there was a big enough gap dug out for her to crawl through, and then shortly afterwards, a larger gap for him to crawl through. That was not fun. But at least they were freed from their little stone tomb as the sun was slowly setting in a distance, and a Lancer flew overhead.

Wait a second. Since when did Lancers come in bright translucent white-blue?

Sharing a glance with his dusty, pink-clad teammate, they both took off chasing Weiss’s summon, waving their arms wildly in the hopes of getting the heiress's attention.

Which they did eventually.

After Nora lit a tree on fire.

It was an accident, she swore.

[cherryfi]

Don’t Run From Me

Chapter 1: The Interview (2684 words)

A/N: Hello, Hello! This isn’t my first time writing fanfics but, it’s the first time I’m writing for ATEEZ! Please be kind! I’m thinking of making this a chapter series but, I’m kind of stuck on which chapter I should do next. Should I do what happens after the end of this one or should I do the reverse order -(like the first time you met Hongjoong).

T/W: Some cursing and kidnapping.

Enjoy!

2 years.

It had been almost 2 years since you’d finally let yourself settle down.

In your heart it felt like the right time to stop running. For that amount of time no one had come looking for you and nothing bad had happened ( short of occasionally seeing almost familiar faces while out and about in town or across the aisle when you were shopping), you were finally in a place where you felt like you could comfortably let your head rest.

You’d hopped around from motels to hotels at first, terrified to call family and friends because of the chance that Hongjoong would find you. But, as more time passed, you grew comfortable in the idea that he’d leave you be.

You were tired of sleeping on uncomfortable beds that you could never call your own.

Months on the run had made you crave home and that’s exactly where you went.

After the best part of a year you showed up on your mother’s doorstep, halfway across the country with only a backpack and the clothes on your back to your name.

She didn’t ask any questions, just welcomed you back home and over time, once you’d settled, you told her everything.

After many tearful conversations, where your mother told you how worried she was; not knowing where you were or if you were even alive and you told her how much you regretted leaving without telling her; you were closer than ever.

After countless sleepless nights, where you woke up scared that he’d found you , she recommended that you go into therapy. She was terrified of the trauma that you’d been through and how much its impacted you and after her ultimatum ‘Go to therapy or I’m going to the police’ you made yourself go.

The stability of being back at home with your mum and having a permanent roof over your head, coupled with your therapist helping you get through the last 3 years of pain and fear;  put you in a place where you were finally ready to take the last step in truly stabilising yourself: you were going to get a job.

You had spent the last 2 years working odd jobs, from run down diners to small hardware stores to gas stations – you were a ‘Jack of all trades.’

But, before all of that and before Hongjoong had come into your life, you’d been a full-time student who would do PA/ admin work part-time at a well-known company.

Even though you didn’t get to finish your degree, you still had the skills you’d learned in admin work behind you and you were going to sell yourself.

 That’s what bought you here.

Sitting in the lobby of an upscale office building; resumé and paperwork in hand.

‘Breathe’

You sigh deeply, shaking out your hands to relieve some of your body’s tension and reassure yourself yet again that you’re making the right decision.

You’d sign with an agency (on your therapist’s recommendation) and they’d sent you an ad for Tongyong; a small start-up company that was looking to expand.

The current CEO was in the process of gaining some middle/ top league clients and was on the ‘up and up’ , he was looking for a savvy, conscientious and hardworking individual to help him organise his time and schedules.

That was where you came in! You were all these things and more.

Funnily enough, they didn’t really care about years of experience, they were happy to train you up, in order to make you the best fit for them.

It was perfect.

You took the job listing and booked yourself in for an interview, hoping that you’d finally be able to complete your fresh start.

“Ms Y/N Y/L/N? They’ll see you in the office now. Follow me.” You smiled at the pretty receptionist, thinking that you might have seen her somewhere before but, not being able to put a name to a face and quickly got up.

Standing in the elevator with this woman, you couldn’t shake the trepidation that swept over you, almost freezing you in place.

The higher the elevator rose, the more anxious you became, and your mind was suddenly screaming ‘run’.

The phrase, ‘Into the lion’s den’ popped into your mind.

“We’re here. I’m sure you’re going to do great and I wish you the best of luck.” She smiled at you and opened the door, telling you to sit down.

He came in shortly after.

“Ms Y/L/N, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” You nearly jumped out of your skin, nervously laughing as you got up to greet him.

“Yes, sorry. Hi Mr-“ You shook his gently as he apologised for frightening you, telling you his last name was Kim but, to call him Jiwon.

‘Who else do you know with the last name Kim, Y/N’ Panic flashes through you, white hot and you take another deep breath, quashing your anxiety.

‘Run Y/N’

 The interview was going well.

You were sat opposite of each other, a spotless glass table separating you.

You chatted nonchalantly about your previous experiences and what the company was looking for as well as what their mission was.

Jiwon spoke passionately about how Tongyong’s aim was to change the tech market and make it more accessible to everyone and how they were going to create luxury products with affordable prices.

He also spoke to you about what your work with the CEO would be like.

He made it clear that the hours were going to be long and sometimes unsociable but, you would be paid well for your time and it would be worth it.

Quickly, you found yourself excited to work for Tongyong; thrilled at being able to say you were there when the company was still small and renting office space, instead of building international offices.

You looked forward to the work that you would do, and you weren’t at all deterred by the long hours but, there was still a niggling fear that kept eating away at the back of your mind.

‘If this isn’t the CEO then, where is he?’

The small thread of doubt began to grow like a migraine behind your eyes and you had to calm yourself down, yet again.

‘We spoke about this in therapy Y/N, these things happen with trauma, you’re just paranoid’ Either way, with the fear looming over your head and your anxiety building, you had to ask:

“Um, will I be meeting the CEO today or is that a separate interview?” He smiled, leaning back in his chair and stretching his legs.

“Yes of course, how silly of me! I should have said at the very beginning! You’ll be meeting him after this interview. Don’t look so alarmed, he just has a few questions that he wanted to ask you. He’s a great guy and you’re interviewing really well.” He smiled reassuringly, looking at the shock written across your face.

Meeting the CEO would be a huge deal and, so soon?

Pre-interview jitters took over you again.

“I’ve only got one question left and then if there isn’t anything you want to ask me, we can wrap up and I’ll bring the other Mr Kim in.”

‘The other Mr Kim?’

“So, your resume looks great but, why the jump back into PA work? There’s a 2 year break here where you were doing hospitality and retail stuff intermittently, is there any reason for that and how has your situation changed to allow you to do more consistent work?”

‘I was on the run from my crazy-ass, murderous ex’ You shook your head, physically shaking the thought away and gave a thoughtful answer.

“I had a personal issue that meant that I needed jobs that offered flexibility. So, I was working at different places for short periods of time because that was the best that I could do given the rigid schedule at home. My situation has changed now, and I no longer have the same commitments that I did before. This means that I’m now able to jump back into full time work.” He nodded to your answer, jotting down notes on his copy of your resume. You almost high-fived yourself on a job well done.

“Perfect. Have you got any questions for me?” You thought quickly,  remembering that it’s always important to have questions ready for your interviewer and you wanted to see if he’d offer up any more info on the other Kim.

“What got you into Tongyong?”

He gave you a short answer about his love of tech (which you could tell from how passionate he was before and how he and Mr Kim were good friends so, he trusted in his vision.

He was about to continue when there was a knock at the door.

“I guess we’ve run out of time, it was a pleasure meeting you Y/N.” He shook your hand.

“It was nice meeting you too, Jiwon.” He stepped out of the room, closing the door behind him.

 You could hear talking outside of the interview room but, with a frosted glass window and opaque, cherrywood door you couldn’t really hear what was being said or see who he was talking to.

 As you heard the door being opened, you quickly stood up, ready to greet whoever came into the room.

As your eyes connected, you had to catch yourself to stop from fainting.

Your soul  just about left your body.

“Ms Y/L/N, you look as if you’ve seen a ghost.” His smile was sly and spread across his face slowly as he took the seat across from you.

Hongjoong.

He doesn’t look any different to the way he did when you last saw him.

His hair, once red, was a light pink but, he still looked deceptively innocent.

He looked almost princely in his cut suit.

You were dumbfounded, frozen stiff and still standing in the position you were in before: hand out ready to greet someone who was already comfortably seated.

“Honey take a seat. Let me see that beautiful face. I haven’t seen it in, what was it, 2 years?” You could hear the smirk in his voice and the way he stressed that it had been 2 years. Your skin was crawling.

You couldn’t even get angry at being duped like this.

‘Run’

“Don’t even think about leaving. I have guards by the door, the elevator and in the lobby. Not even James Bond could get out of here.” He chuckles lightly at his joke and you think you might be sick.

Your stomach starts turning.

Your hands start to feel like spiders are crawling over them.

Your body goes cold and you start shaking.

Shakily, you sit back down; turning to face Hongjoong but, refusing to look at him.

He doesn’t like that.

“Look at me sweetheart, let me see those beautiful eyes.” You look at him. As sweet as his words are, his tone is sharp and commanding.

He’s daring you to disobey him, especially when he has you trapped like this.

“Why do you look so angry? Shouldn’t I be the angry one? After all, we spend an incredible and passionate night together and I wake up in the morning to find you gone. Poof, you disappear on me. You took all your shit and just left me.” He leans forward, his large eyes boring into yours.

Hongjoong isn’t going to let you get away , not this time.

You open your mouth, and nothing comes out. You’re beginning to hyperventilate.

“Oh, so you have nothing to say? Cute. I left you alone, thinking maybe you needed some time. Maybe the reason you were jumping all over the country was because you needed space to sort yourself out. I thought you’d come back and tell me what the hell you were thinking; running without so much as a goodbye.”  His voice raises louder with sentence, until he’s red in the face and shouting at you.

He's demanding an answer from you.

“Hongjoong, I-“ He holds up his hand, leaning back in his chair.

The smile has returned but, this time he looks more crazed than happy.

“Don’t worry. We’ll have time to talk about all your little escapades while you were off galivanting and hiding from me. Just tell me one thing baby:” His voice is deathly quiet as he leans in close; he’s deceptively calm.

“Does it surprise you, that I always knew where you were?”

Your breathing picks up at that and you begin to panic.

Your body feels like you can’t enough air in and you begin to shake.

The fact that he always knew where you were and could have gotten to you at any time hits you like a truck.

“I set up this cute, little interview just to talk to you. Isn’t that sweet Y/N? Instead of tracking you down and ambushing and you possibly getting hurt in the process, I just thought why not have her come to me? I’m tired of waiting for you to come home. It’s time for you to come home.”

You shake your head, trying to think of a way to run and coming up short.

Hongjoong grabs your hand, making you stand up from your chair and leads you to the door.

Your mind is still reeling and you’re running on autopilot – you need to get away from him.

‘Come on Y/N! THINK! You’ve gotten away before, you can do it again.’

You remember that Hongjoong said he had men in the elevator, outside the door and in the lobby but, he said nothing about the stairwell.

Hongjoong leads you out, holding onto you loosely  and you begin to think that he’s sure that he’s got you trapped.

As the elevator doors ding and open, you see Mingi inside it.

He’s tall and imposing, his face cold and stern. He barely spares you a glance as Hongjoong steps in the elevator before you. Now’s your chance.

Everything seemed to go in slow motion.

You pull your hand from his as the doors begin to close and bolt for the stairwell; ready to run all the way down.

“Shit.” Hongjoong immediately presses the button to open the door and charges after you.

You  know you’ve only got a little advantage over him and you’re not going to let it go to waste. You kick of your shoes and rush down the stairs, hearing Hongjoong behind you.

You’ve made it down 2 floors when you run right into Jongho’s arms.

“Please let me go, I need to get out of here, please!” With panic rising fast, you do everything you can to get out of his hold; kicking, screaming and begging.

Pretty soon tears are running down your face as the terror really starts to set in.

“I can’t do that Y/N, you know that.” Jongho says without much emotion in his voice. He barely looks at you and doesn’t even seem to break a sweat as you struggle against his hold.

Hongjoong shows up soon after.

Once he’d heard you being caught by one of his men he slowed down, taking his time to get to you.

He was stalking towards you.

“Thanks, Jongho. It looks like our little escape artist isn’t done adventuring yet.” He’s furious.

Despite how calm he looks his eyes are blazing as he looks at you coldly.

“Please Hongjoong, Jongho. Please! Just let me leave! I haven’t told anyone anything. You know that, right? I’ve been quiet the whole time. I won’t say anything. Please just let me go. I just want a normal life.” He shakes his head, taking a bottle out of his pocket and a handkerchief. He doesn’t even hear your pleas. Jongho’s hold on you only tightens.

He grabs your arms to stop you from lashing out at Hongjoong.

“Let’s make sure, she can’t get away again.” Your struggling and begging is useless, As the chemical soaked ‘kerchief is placed over your nose and mouth, the only thought that runs through your mind is that you should have followed your gut instinct.

Let me know what you think and let me know if you want to be tagged for the next chapter! <3

REQUESTS ARE OPEN!

[hrina]

Primi Passi (Il Ritorno Extra)

PAIRING: Alex/Y/N RATING: R WORD COUNT: 7.1k REQUESTED: nope

hi all :-) it’s been ages but i figured it was about time i start delivering on the promise i made regarding il ritorno extras. i really hope you enjoy this

il ritorno (part 1) / l’amato (part 2) / il devoto (part 3)

[masterlist] [come yell at me]

~*~

Alex doesn’t know at what point the anxiety had set in. He’d rolled out of bed this morning, and he’d been fine. He’d stepped out of his apartment, turning the key and hearing the lock click into place, and he hadn’t felt a thing. Even as he’d cruised down the road in his new (used) car, his heartbeat had been steady and consistent.

But now…

Walking into the waiting room has his palms clammy with sweat and his attention divided. He’s uncomfortably aware of the dryness of his mouth, his tongue dipping out to moisten his lips. The action soon unfurls into him gnawing nervously on the inside of his cheek and scratching the skin beneath his eyebrow with uneasy fingers. Small perturbing voices in the corner of his mind irk him relentlessly.

He shouldn’t be here.

He should go home.

There’s a soft squeeze of his hand, and he looks down to find you smiling up at him reassuringly. Your eyes are bright, and your expression is nothing but genuine. You’ve pinned your hair back with a simple black clip, and you’ve actually opted to wear a pair of trousers today. Alex’s gaze flits down to where you’ve pleated your yellow blouse into the waistband of the bottoms; he calms slightly when he remembers how he’d tucked you under his arm this morning, pressing a kiss to the side of your head and murmuring something about you being his little bumblebee.

“Your hand is sweaty,” you whisper. The smile that you previously bore has fallen from your face, and you peer up at Alex with inquisitive eyes. “Nervous?”

“Yeah.” He can’t lie to you.

“That’s okay,” you say, shrugging. “It’s completely normal. But I’m here, aren’t I? Right here, right next to you.”

“And I love you for it,” he replies, almost immediately. The quiet declaration shocks you slightly; you’ve both admitted your feelings for each other but hearing him remind you of it makes butterflies erupt in your stomach. It feels good; it feels real.

“Let’s go sign you in,” you offer, tilting your head toward the front of the room. “It shouldn’t take too long.”

Alex nods, swallowing heavily.

The lobby is…odd. Alex doesn’t quite know what he had expected. The walls are white and barren, and the chairs lined up for waiting patients don’t look to be too comfortable. There’s a table in the middle of the room with several daily newspapers strewn about on the surface and a small vase of flowers standing amongst the chaos of tabloids. The yellow daffodils in the jug are wilting slightly; it must be time for a new bouquet.

You gently lead Alex to the desk across the room. A secretary with glasses and greying hair sits behind it; from what he can see, Alex guesses that she’s perched on one of those same painful-looking chairs. She’s hunched over, licking her thumb as she rifles through papers in a drawer.

“Hi,” you say softly. You lean forward slightly, never releasing Alex’s hand. He’s grateful.

The secretary is a little stoic, but she returns your greeting nonetheless as she sits up from her search. You do the majority of the talking; Alex chimes in only when he needs to give her pertinent information regarding his name, his address, and any previous sought-out medical care. As the woman (he learns that her name is Amélie) jots down each detail, he feels a weight slipping off his shoulders like water from a raincoat. The process is gradual, but after a few minutes, Amélie tells him that he’s all set, and he doesn’t feel as terrified as before.

“You can have a seat. Dr. Lawrence will be with you soon.”

Those two sentences shatter the illusion, and suddenly, Alex is right back where he started.

His chest is tight with fear as you lead him over to the waiting area. You both sit down (he was right—the chairs are extremely incommodious) and his leg immediately starts bouncing up and down. You notice, shooting him a confused look.

“What happened?” you ask quietly, placing your hand on his knee to quell the jittery movement. “You were doing so good.”

“I know,” he grits out, his head falling shamefully. “’M sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.” You shake your head. “It’s not something you need to be—just talk to me, yeah? Take some deep breaths.”

You put your palm on the nape of his neck and idly play with the curls growing there. Alex tries his best to follow your advice; his lips twitch when he spots your chest rising and falling as well, trying to keep time with his.

“What?” you ask wryly, tucking your free hand beneath your thighs. He just shakes his head, reaching behind him so that he can grab firmly onto your fingers. He gives a light tug, angling his head somewhat so that he can press his lips to your knuckles.

“Nothing,” he replies, his mouth moving against your skin when he mumbles, “Y’just—you’re taking deep breaths, too.”

“’Course I am,” you say; a hint of playfulness laces your words. “How else do you expect me to stay alive?”

“Shut it,” Alex says, chuckling softly. He covers your hand with both of his; the difference in size is almost comical. His palms are still slightly sticky, but his heart is beating normally again, and he doesn’t feel quite as distressed as before; he’ll attribute it to your silly joke and your presence overall.

“Ah, there’s a smile.” You smirk at him, leaning over so that you can nudge your shoulder against his bicep. “Makes you look good, you know. So very handsome.”

“’M I not handsome when I frown? Thought girls liked that—a rugged, no-nonsense man.”

“No-nonsense Alex is lovely,” you say. “But happy, smiley Alex…he owns my heart.”

Alex is about to reply, but then the door of the front entrance swings open. You turn once you hear the sound of heels clicking against the tiled floor. The pair of you watch as a woman struts across the room and over to where Amélie has resumed her hunt for a specific file. She has long black hair that cascades down her back, and she’s wearing a pretty blue dress with a puffy skirt. When she glances over her shoulder to idly scan the room, Alex notices that her eyes are a stark shade of grey.

“You alright?” You bump him gently with your elbow. He snaps out of his stupor and turns his attention back to you, nodding once.

“Yeah,” he says, licking his lips. “Yeah, it’s just…”

How can he possibly explain the impact that this woman has made on him? How can he even begin to describe how she’s made him feel? All she’s done is make her way across the lobby.

“Do you know her?” Your eyes momentarily flit to where the stranger is still standing at Amélie’s desk, now absorbed in a quiet conversation with the secretary.

“No.” Alex shakes his head. “I don’t. But she just seems so…”

So relaxed.

So natural.

So normal.

And it makes him think that maybe he can come out of this feeling normal again, too.

~*~

An hour and a half later, you’re still sat in the waiting room, but now you’re alone. The woman with the dark hair and grey eyes had been called into an office shortly after Alex, leaving you to study the plain walls of the waiting room and lazily scan the headlines of the newspapers on the coffee table. Your left leg bounces anxiously against the floor, and you absentmindedly drum your fingers against your thigh.

Amélie is still sat behind her desk; you can hear the wayward scribbles of her pen. Suddenly, she stands and stretches, peering at you over the rim of her spectacles. “Can I fetch you a cup of tea?” she asks. “Seems you could use it.”

“Oh,” you say, slightly taken aback. “Er…that’d be lovely, thank you.”

She nods; you think you see her lips twitch upward in the smallest of smiles. You watch as she steps out from behind the desk and disappears around the corner of the room, the same way Alex had when he’d been invited into Dr. Lawrence’s office.

About five minutes later, she’s back, carrying a plain ivory mug. The steam floating from the surface of your tea drifts upward and fogs up her glasses.  

“Here you go, amour,” she says, handing the cup over to you. You wrap your hand around the handle, careful not to burn yourself. You feel her eyes on you as you lift the drink to your lips, but before you can take a sip, she asks, “Did he fight?”

“Sorry?” you sputter, caught by surprise at the bluntness of her inquiry.

“Did he fight?” she repeats, her gaze never straying from your face. You quickly realize the context of the question, tucking your lips into a fine line and breathing out a solemn affirmation. Amélie sighs quietly.

“My boy did, too,” she tells you. “He died in Sedan.”

You swallow heavily, your throat suddenly extremely dry. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s alright,” she replies; she waves away your condolences, but her eyes are slightly shiny. “But thank you.”

You nod.

Just then, you hear voices murmuring quietly, followed by the closing of a door and footsteps drawing near. Subconsciously, you straighten up. A moment later (though it feels like an eternity, if you’re being honest), Alex is rounding the corner with an older gentleman by his side.

You don’t know what you had been expecting. Would he have been even more slouched and jittery than when he’d first walked in? Would he have played mindlessly with his fingers and refused to meet your eyes? Would he have stared at the road the entire ride back to his apartment and given you little to no detail about the session? You’d considered each of these possibilities, and you’d been prepared to deal with them if they became realities.

It seems as though your worries had been misplaced, though.

Alex is actually smiling. The man next to him has an arm thrown over his shoulder, and Alex is trying to stifle his grin as he scratches at his nose with two knuckles. They look like a pair who have been friends for a long time, despite the obvious difference in age. They come to a halt in front of you, and it’s only then when Alex seems to notice that you’re staring at him with bewildered eyes.

“And this must be your lovely wife,” the man says, gesturing to you. You set your mug down and stand abruptly when he holds out his palm to shake your hand. “Wonderful to meet you, my dear. I’m Dr. Lawrence.”

“Hi,” you say, quickly offering up your name in return. You try to ignore the slight fluttering in your stomach when you register that he’d referred to you as Alex’s wife. “It’s nice to meet you, too. How did everything go?”

Your question is directed at Dr. Lawrence, but your eyes subconsciously drift over to the man you love. Alex has his hands clasped behind his back, now; you wait with a bated breath as he slowly lifts his gaze to meet yours. His eyes shimmer with something good, and the tension melts from your shoulders when his pink lips quirk up at the corners ever so slightly. Everything about his expression is alleviating, and it makes you want to cry with relief.

Dr. Lawrence fills you in on as much as he can without jeopardizing any ethical regulations. You beam when he tells you that he’s glad that Alex reached out, and that he seems like “a fine fellow”. Sometime during your short conversation, Alex has migrated to your side, and you reflexively slip your hand into the loop of his arm, giving his elbow an affectionate squeeze. He seems a bit more confident, standing up straight with relaxed shoulders and his head held high. You’re not sure if you’re simply watching him through rose-coloured glasses, or if a single therapy session has already had that much of an impact on him, but there’s an obvious difference in the way he’s carrying himself.

Alex shakes the therapist’s—his therapist’s—hand and thanks him sincerely.

“Next week, then? Same time?” Dr. Lawrence inquires.

Alex nods. “Yes, please.”

“Perfect. I’ll let Amélie know so she can remind me a day or two in advance. Take care, you lot.”

You and Alex manage to successfully exit the lobby and turn the corner before you’re squealing and pawing at his arm excitedly.

“Okay, so it actually went well?” You grin. “Tell me everything! Well, alright, not everything, yeah? Some things can obviously remain private, I promise I won’t be offended if you want to keep them to yourself! I’m just really happy that you—”

“Christ, love!” Alex laughs, covering your fidgety hands with his. You clamp your mouth shut, tucking your lips against each other to contain your enthusiasm. He tangles your fingers together, lifting them up so that he can press a kiss to your knuckles. You abandon your attempt to fight against a smile and openly beam at him.

“Let’s go home, first, alright?” Alex suggests. “Come back to my place and—and we can talk it all out. I just wanna discuss it somewhere a little more private, ‘f that’s fine.”

“That’s more than fine.” You nod earnestly. Alex leans down, tucking his fingers beneath your chin so that he can guide you up for a gentle kiss. Your eyes flutter shut when his soft lips mould against yours. The action lasts a bit too long (considering the fact that you’re both in public and anyone walking down the hallway could pass by) but neither of you can find it in yourselves to care.

Alex tries to deepen the kiss, his palm nestling itself firmly against your cheek and his fingers splitting apart around the shell of your ear. His skin is warm; a small part of you wants to lean into his touch, but you force yourself to draw the line. Your lips detach with a soft smacking sound, and it’s extremely difficult to look away from the deeper shade of pink that’s swelled across Alex’s mouth.

“Not here,” you murmur, though you wish—more than anything—that you could continue. “Home. Let’s go home.”

~*~

“Shall I put the kettle on?”

The question falls from Alex’s lips in a soft exhale. You peer up at him from where you’re removing your flats and shake your head, but there’s a gentle smile stretching your lips.

“No, thank you,” you say. “Amélie gave me a cup of tea while you were gone.”

“So that’s what the mug was for.” He smirks slightly. “Wasn’t sure if it was Earl Grey or Old Crow…”

You laugh. “Whiskey? Who do you take me for?”

Alex snickers in response and places a large hand on your waist, leaning in and stealing a chaste kiss before you can even blink. When he pulls back, there’s a befuddled expression on your face, and it makes him smile. His hand slips down your body and he pats your bum playfully.

“Go have a seat on my bed, yeah? And don’t be afraid to get comfortable,” he says, tilting his head in the direction of his room. Your eyes flicker over to where the door stands slightly ajar before zeroing back in on his handsome face.

“Anything else, my lord?” The corners of your mouth quirk up.

Alex cocks an eyebrow. “If you wanna take a couple layers off…,” he starts, clearly trying to mask a smirk. “I s’pose that wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world, either.”

“I hate you,” you deadpan, whipping around and quickly making your way down the hall. You shake your head when you hear him laughing behind you, refusing to look back and reveal just how flustered he’s made you.  

“No, you don’t!” he calls out. “Love me, don’t you?”

You don’t reply.

About ten minutes later, you hear the shrill whistling of the kettle. A few long moments after that, Alex appears in the doorway of his bedroom, leaning against the threshold with a dark mug in his large hands and a delicate smile playing on his lips.

“Certainly made yourself comfortable, I see,” he muses.

“I was just doing as you said.” You look up at him from where you’re splayed out on his bed, your arms and legs tickling the edges of the mattress. You giggle childishly and sit up, patting the spot to your right as an invitation for him to join you. He grins, making his way over.

“That so?” Alex grunts as climbs onto the futon, taking extra care so as to not spill his tea. He cups the drink with both of his hands, inching his way backward so that he’s propped up comfortably against the headboard. You copy him, sighing softly and subconsciously gripping his duvet in your fists.

“Why didn’t you get a bit more naked for me, then?” Alex asks; his words ooze with mischief. “Told you to do that too, didn’t I?”

“Stop it!” you squeak, swatting half-heartedly at his shoulder.

“Hey!” he protests, but laughter flanks the word. His torso twists as he curls into himself, protecting the hot beverage in his hands. “Woman! I almost spilled my Earl Grey!”

“You’re not posh enough for Earl Grey,” you snort, shaking your head. “I’ll bet that’s chamomile.” You nudge him. “And you deserve to spill it! You’re entirely too bold, considering the fact that the sun hasn’t even set yet.”

“Love,” Alex starts, fighting the glee threatening to make itself known on his features. “People do have sex during the day, y’know. It’s not an activity reserved exclusively for the nighttime.”

“They do?”

“Yes! Christ, you’re actually being serious right now?”

“Of course not, you dimwit! I’m not a child, I know how it all works.”

“Thanks to me.” Alex smiles smugly. You scoff and roll your eyes.

“Thanks to myself,” you clarify. “And you know that. Nearly had you on your knees that first time in the shower, in case you’ve forgotten.”

Alex growls faintly at the memory, and your stomach flips in the most delicious of ways. “How could I possibly forget?” he asks. “Still think about it to this very day; every night, when I’ve got m’hand wrapped around my—”

“Right!” you cut him off, your voice rising a few octaves. A nervous laugh tumbles from your mouth. “That’s enough of that, I’d say. Why don’t you tell me about how your session went, yeah?”

The playful atmosphere in the air slowly dwindles, replaced by earnestness and sincerity. You reach out, placing your hand on the back of Alex’s neck and toying with the curls that have sprouted. He’s in dire need of a trim, but you have to admit that the shaggier length makes him look just as good as the close-cropped style he’d donned when you’d first met.

Alex smiles softly. All traces of the impish, cheeky boy from a few seconds ago have disappeared. Standing—or rather, sitting—in his place is a calm, thoughtful man, a person having just undergone a very sobering experience. You weren’t able to accompany him during the appointment, but you can be there for him afterward.

“It was good.” Alex’s voice is gentle, as is his subtle nod. “I think he could tell I was nervous—guess you two have that in common.”

You smile.

Alex continues, sparing no detail of the session. He tells you about how he must’ve wiped his clammy palms against his trousers at least fifty times inside Dr. Lawrence’s office. He tells you about how the therapist hadn’t forced him to disclose anything he didn’t want to discuss. He tells you about the kindness that he’d felt radiating off of Dr. Lawrence, and the reassurance and support exuded by his responses. He tells you that you were right, and he thanks you for pushing him to set up the appointment.

The two of you sit there for the better part of the hour. By the time Alex reaches the part of the story where he’d come out to meet you in the lobby, you’ve got your cheek on his shoulder and your fingers are intertwined.

You lift your head, gazing up at him affectionately. Alex is still talking, but when he catches a glimpse of your doting expression out of the corner of his eye, he pauses. He nudges you softly, his lips spreading into a fond smile. “What?”

“Nothing.” You shrug; your eyes are sparkling. “I just love you.”

“Really?” Alex lifts a brow, raising his nearly-empty mug so that he can finish off what’s left of his tea. “Thought you hated me, hmm?”

Your face twists in mock-offense, and you push away from him, burrowing into the pillows that had previously been supporting your lower-back. “Never mind,” you say, your voice muffled. “You’re right; I do.”

“Hey, y’can’t take it back now!” Alex squawks. There’s a low clink! when he sets his cup down onto his bedside table; seconds later, he’s pressing his front against your back and smacking dramatic kisses against the side of your head. You try to roll away, but he throws a muscular leg over your thighs, effectively trapping you in his embrace.

“You love me,” he mumbles, his breath tickling the shell of your ear.

You shake your head vigorously, refusing to answer him with words.

“Say it,” Alex whines, snaking his arms around you. He tries to wrestle your hands out from where you’ve tucked them against your chest, but you don’t budge. “Say you love me, darling.”

“In your dreams.” Your reply is stifled by the cotton of the pillowcase.

“Sounds likely,” Alex says. He abandons his current strategy, opting instead to straddle your waist. You shriek when his knee pushes against your hip; he uses the leverage to turn you over so that your back falls against the bed. You reach out in an attempt to push him off of you, but he captures your wrists easily and pins them down so that they flank your head. Your fingers flex, but the both of you know that he’s too strong; you’ve got no chance of winning this fight.

“Sounds likely,” Alex repeats, shooting you a wry grin. “Because you’re always in my dreams, pet.”

“I think I just gagged.” Your laugh is infectious, and he can’t help but to join in. He giggles, leaning down and burying his face into the crook of your neck. His grip on your wrists loosens with each shake of his shoulders, but you don’t bother with taking advantage of the opportunity. You’re enjoying having him on top of you like this (a bit too much, if you’re being honest with yourself.)

“My wife is so mean to me,” you hear Alex say. His words fan out against your skin and the warmth of his breath sends a shiver down your spine.

You scoff, but it’s impossible to ignore the fluttering in your stomach. “It was an honest mistake,” you tell him, though you find yourself chuckling soon after. “But yeah—I wasn’t even wearing a ring!”

“That should change, no?” Alex asks, pulling his face away from your throat so that he can get a proper look at you. He shrugs, but you can tell that he’s serious. Your muscles tense up when you register the sincerity in his eyes.

“Could get you a nice, big diamond,” he continues; he’s trying to act nonchalant, but the way he swallows forcefully is extremely telling of his true emotions. “The country club a few blocks away is looking for a new landscaper; I applied.”

You cock your head to the side. “You didn’t tell me that.”

“I just went in yesterday.” Alex’s lips twitch. “The pay’s quite decent, too.”

“Oh.”

The two of you bathe in the silence for a few long moments. Alex clears his throat and shifts uncomfortably on top of you. You fear that he’s making a move to roll off of you; your hands shoot up to grip his biceps, anchoring him firmly in place.

“Hey,” you say confidently. “I love you.”

He smiles.

“And,” you begin, “I’m not saying no. Maybe, just—”

“Later?”

You nod gratefully, chewing on the inside of your cheek. “Later.”

“’M fine with that,” Alex murmurs. He lowers himself down, smearing his lips against yours. “Completely fine with that. Love you.”

You take it upon yourself to deepen the kiss; it catches Alex by surprise, you can tell. You don’t hear him complaining when you wind your arms around his neck, though, so you take it as sign to continue. You sigh blissfully when he cups your jaw and spread your legs reflexively at the sensation of his hips slanting down to press against yours.

“Scandalous, love,” Alex berates, mockery evident in his tone. “The sun’s not even set yet.”

“Do you want to or not?” you ask, breathless. He laughs boyishly and nods, his fingers already beginning to fiddle with the buttons of your blouse. You arch your back and push your chest out in encouragement.

Within seconds, he has your shirt open, and you giggle as you struggle to pull it from your shoulders. Alex gets to work on your nipples through the thin material of your bra, cupping one breast in his large hand and thumbing over where the small bud is straining against the fabric. His free hand slides down to grip your waist, keeping you still as he latches onto the other breast and litters kisses along the exposed skin of your cleavage. A low sigh tumbles from your mouth.

“What d’you want?” Alex’s inquiry is a bit difficult to hear, mostly due to the fact that he’s speaking against your collarbone. You peer down at him when he lifts his head slightly, and your gazes lock. His eyes are dark, large pupils circled by only a thin ring of green. Even as you take a moment to mull his question over in your head, he continues to sponge his lips against your heaving chest—he has to be touching you at all times, it seems.

“All of it.” The words are certain, floating from your lips and dissipating into the air. You shift beneath him, reaching for the hem of his shirt and tugging him even closer to you.

Alex smirks.

“Let’s get these off,” he mutters, directing his attention to your trousers. He shifts down your body so that his chest is level with the apex of your thighs. Your stomach begins to rise and fall a bit more rapidly when he flicks open the button of your pants and unzips them carefully.

“My little bumblebee,” Alex murmurs, landing a quick kiss to your hip. Despite your nerves (you’re still trying to get used to the fact that he enjoys seeing you naked), you exhale softly and bury your fingers in his hair. He hums happily, his eyes fluttering shut for a brief moment as your nails scratch lightly against his scalp. “Feels good.”

“Yeah?” You giggle, and he nods, the ghost of a smile on his lips. You lift your hips when he hooks his fingers into the waistband of your bottoms, making it easier for him to slide the material down your legs.

“Lemme—,” Alex swallows heavily when his eyes land on the simple cotton panties decorating your hips. You spread your legs shyly as he burrows himself between your thighs. His hands are warm when he places them beneath your knees and encourages you to bend them, littering a few haphazard kisses along your calves. “Lemme make you feel good, love.”

“Okay,” you whisper.

Your heart pounds erratically beneath your ribs when Alex presses his nose to your clit over your underwear. Something in the pit of your stomach lurches hotly when he breathes a deep inhale and groans at your scent.

Alex begins to mouth at you over the damp material of your panties; the heat of his tongue makes you gasp. Your fingers tighten in his hair.

“Let’s get these off, now,” he says, and you nod. With a dramatic flourish, he removes your underwear, and you reach behind your back to thumb open the clasp of your bra. When Alex turns back to you, he’s met with the full display of your naked chest, and he nearly whimpers at the sight.

“You’re killin’ me,” he groans, shaking his head before covering your body with his and taking one of your nipples into his mouth with no preamble.

“Oh,” you breathe, your back curving in delight. “Don’t stop.”

Alex hums in response. You can vaguely make out his quiet promise, hearing him murmur, “I won’t.”

As he laves his tongue over the tight bud, he brings his fingers to where you’re throbbing for him. You jump when his thumb presses firmly against your clit, but the small circles that he proceeds to rub against you has your body relaxing in seconds.

“That’s good,” you tell him through a sigh, tilting your head back. Your eyes drift shut as you try to process the wet sensation of his mouth on your chest and the confident, determined movements of his fingers between your legs.

“Look at me,” Alex mumbles, the words gentle. You force yourself to meet his gaze, chewing on your bottom lip when you find him swirling his tongue around your nipple. At that exact moment, he chooses to slip a finger into your heat, probing around for a second before locating that one spot inside of you that you’ve never properly been able to reach by yourself.

“There!” you say breathlessly, your toes curling into the duvet.

“Found it, didn’t I?” Alex’s tone is dripping with self-satisfaction, and his fingertips speed up against your clit. “Is it good for you?”

“So good,” you assure him, nodding quickly. You know that your eyes are blown out with lust when they land on him; he hides his smile in the valley of your cleavage.

He pulls an orgasm from you a few minutes later—the combination of the frantic rubbing against your clit and his finger inside of you has your eyelids screwing shut and your hips bucking up from the mattress. The force of your climax knocks the breath from your lungs, but you can’t even feel embarrassed about your helplessness. Alex stares at you intensely, his gaze burning holes through you.

“How do you feel?” he asks, studying your parted lips and your clammy neck.

“Great,” you reply. A breathless laugh slips from your lips. “Really great.”

“Brilliant.” Alex beams. You tilt your head down to look at him, and your hand snakes down his neck so that you can toy with the collar of his shirt.

“Take this off,” you urge, pinching the fabric gently. “Fuck me.”

“Christ.” There’s a pained expression on his face. You know that it’s because of your sudden boldness, and you like that you have that effect on him.

“You want that?” He asks darkly, sitting back on his knees and beginning to unbutton his shirt. You push yourself up onto your elbows, your cheeks growing warm when you realize that you’re completely naked and he’s yet to even remove his socks. As though guided by an invisible string, your legs fall open, and Alex’s eyes bulge when he becomes privy to the mess between your thighs.

“I want it,” you confirm in a shy squeak.

He smirks, standing up from the bed and shedding the rest of his clothes. You gulp when his cock bobs up against his stomach, the tip flushed a light pink. He wraps a calloused fist around his shaft, giving himself a few steady pumps before reaching blindly into the first drawer of his bedside table.

“Condom,” you both say at the same time, and you laugh loudly. Alex smiles at you sheepishly, eventually pulling out a small paper square clutched between his fingertips. You catch a glimpse of the label, the words Lucky Silk standing out in bold red lettering.

“Aren’t they an Italian brand?” you ask innocently, staring up at Alex with inquisitive eyes as he carefully rips open the wrapper. “What are they doing there, in your nightstand?”

“The little shop round the corner has them imported.” He grunts as he climbs back onto the bed. The edges of your mouth curl upward when he fixes you with a teasing smile. “How d’you know so much about condom brands, anyway?”

“I like to read.” You shrug.

“What in God’s name are you reading?”

“Quiet!” You laugh. Alex snickers as he rolls the condom over his length. You pout up at him, pretending to be annoyed. “Are we going to do this, or not?”

“Do what, hmm?” he asks, his eyebrows raised.

You scoff at his silliness. “You know what.”

“Maybe,” he concedes, and then his eyes are growing dark again. “But maybe I just want to hear you say it, yeah? What are we gonna do, darling?”

With each syllable that leaves his mouth, he leans in closer to you. By the end of his last question, he’s got his jaw nestled against your neck as he nips playfully at your earlobe. Despite your exasperated sigh, your fingers slip into his hair, and you let your eyes flutter shut.

“Fuck,” you breathe, the word barely audible. “We’re gonna fuck.”

“’S right.” Alex shifts above you, placing his palms on the bed next to your torso. “C’mon, then. Put me in, love.”

You guide his cock toward your cunt, and your mouth drops open slightly when you feel the tip nudge past your entrance. He tilts his hips forward and you reflexively wrap your legs around his waist, your ankles locking together right above his bum. You welcome the stretch that accompanies the next few inches of his length, even going as far as arching your back to pull him further in.

“God…fuck.” Alex purses his lips and blows out a heavy sigh through his nose. His arms are already trembling above you.

“Alright?” you whisper to him, cupping his face in your hands. He nods quickly but doesn’t meet your eyes.

“Sorry,” he groans. “You just…feel so good. Dunno if I’m gonna last.”

He chuckles awkwardly at the confession, but you can tell that he’s truly worried about the prospect of a failed performance. Something warm unfurls in your chest when the realization dawns on you: he doesn’t want it to be sloppy.

“It’s okay,” you say, shaking your head. A thought pops into your head, seemingly out of the blue, and before you can weigh it properly, you’re pushing back on Alex’s chest and murmuring, “Here, let’s—let me try something.”

His brows knit together in confusion, but he only nods again before lifting himself off of you. You have to hold in the whimper that threatens to escape when his cock slides from your heat; after having become accustomed to his size, the sudden withdrawal leaves you feeling devastatingly empty. It lights a fire in the pit of your stomach, kicks your neediness into a frenzy, and makes you nudge Alex down onto the bed so that his back is flat against the mattress.

“What’re you—? Oh.” His eyes grow ridiculously wide when you throw one leg over his waist. You would normally laugh at his expression, but you’re too preoccupied with wanting to feel him inside of you again.

You shift down his body until your groin is level with his. Alex hisses when you angle yourself lower, unknowingly dragging your wetness along the shaft of his dick. Looking down at him, you see his head tilted toward the ceiling and his eyes squeezed shut. You roll your hips experimentally, causing his cock to slide between your folds, and the two of you moan in unison.

“Can I?” you whimper, unable to keep your desperation at bay. “Is this okay?”

“Fuck.” Alex’s head bobs frantically. His hands land on your thighs, fingertips digging into the plush skin. “Sit on me, love, please.”

You lift his cock with shaky fingers—Alex groans loudly—and spend a few torturous seconds lining him up with your entrance. Your jaw drops when you slowly sink down his length, the muscles in your abdomen tensing at the incursion; he feels so much bigger like this. You can feel him so much deeper like this.

“Is it—are you—?” Alex can’t seem to form a proper sentence, but you somehow know exactly what he’s trying to ask.

“I’m good,” you breathe, looking at him through your eyelashes. “You?”

“Fuckin’ amazing,” he wheezes, a hoarse laugh tumbling from his mouth. “You feel incredible.”

“So do you,” you reply. Your hips move in a tentative rotation, and Alex throws his head back at the sensation. A low growl tears itself from his throat, and his thighs stiffen beneath your bum. You repeat the movement, watching in awe as he reacts with his entire body. His chest is flushed a light shade of red, and his torso ripples with contractions. The strong jut of his jawline jolts while beads of perspiration begin to gather on his forehead.

“That’s it, love,” Alex mumbles, though his voice sounds far away. “Ride me.”

It takes a minute for you to find your rhythm, too caught up in all of the new sensations brought on by this position. Despite having slept together on several further occasions since your first time, you’ve never been on top before. You’re finding that you like it, though. Alex is spread out below you, a thin sheen of sweat gleaming on his skin, his biceps flexing as he holds onto you with strong, unrelenting fingers.

“How do you feel?” you ask shakily.

“So good,” Alex tells you; his voice seems to grate against his throat, and the guttural tone makes you pulse around him. He releases a high-pitched moan when your walls clamp down on him, his hands flying to your hips to steady you.

“How’s it for you?” he pants. “Doin’ alright?”

You nod, and to prove your point, you lift yourself up and begin bouncing on him steadily. His eyes slam shut, and he exhales through his nose, his nostrils flaring hotly. There’s a muscle twitching in his jaw; you impulsively lean down to smear your lips against it.

“Love you so much,” Alex mutters. One of his hands reaches up to palm at your breasts, while the other cups the side of your neck to guide you in for a kiss. You sigh against his mouth, your tongues dancing together messily. Your hair sticks to your shoulders and your hips falter, straying from the pace that you’d established.

“I’m almost there,” you whisper. Alex nods fiercely, pinching one of your nipples.

“Cum,” he tells you, his forehead wrinkling. “Cum for me.”

As though to punctuate his order, the hand on your chest slides down your body. You feel his fingertips on your stomach, then your hips, and then his thumb is landing squarely on your clit. He gives you a few firm rubs, and the burning knot in your pelvis explodes, sending tremors throughout your body. You shake on top of him, burying your face into his neck as you grab fistfuls of the pillow beneath his head. Alex wraps his arms around you, his hands stroking up and down your back. It’s only when his palms still, and when he releases a series of throaty groans, that you know he’s joined you in ecstasy.

“God,” he gasps, inhaling deeply. Your responding giggle is winded, breathless. You steady yourself onto your forearms, refusing to pull your face from where it’s nestled against the column of his throat. A long beat of silence ensues.

“You alright?” he finally whispers.

You nod. “My thighs are burning, but…I’ll live.”

Alex chuckles incredulously. “Good. We—,” he swallows heavily, “—we need to do it like that more often.”

“Get some food in me, and then we’ll see,” you say.

He cocks his head to the side, curious. “What time do you need to be back home?”

“Tomorrow.” You snicker cheerfully. “Told my mum I was spending the night at Tracy’s.”

“Menace,” Alex says; you giggle in response. He squeezes your hips adoringly, nuzzling his cheek into your hair.

“Love me?” he asks.

You kiss his collarbone. “So much.”

The two of you spend a few more minutes cuddled up like that before your stomach growls loudly. You laugh when Alex jumps at the noise. He insists on feeding you something homemade, and you roll off of him, agreeing to help with the preparations. You bite your bottom lip when he stands and locates his boxers on the floor before sliding the material up over his legs. He turns to you, then, and finds you shrugging on his button-up. You fasten the first few clasps and gather your hair to one side before shooting him a soft smile.

“No knickers?” Alex questions as you step toward his bedroom door.

You glance at him over your shoulder coyly. Your bum peeks out from below his shirt, and his mouth goes dry. 

You shrug. “I was going to go pee. Do you want me to put them on?”

Alex pads over to you, wrapping his arms around your waist. He reaches for one of your hands, lifting it up to his mouth and pressing a solid kiss to your knuckles. “Not at all.”

You grin. “Good.”

“Brilliant,” he replies.

“Fantastic.”

“Love you.”

“Love you more.”

Alex shakes his head. “Not possible. Gonna love you until the day I die, darling.”

“That may be sooner than you think,” you joke. “We’re making food, aren’t we? I’m not really the most capable when it comes to the culinary arts.”

“No? That’s alright—I’ll teach you a thing or two.” He smirks. “Won’t be marrying you for your talents in the kitchen, then, now will I?”

And though you’d both agreed to bury the gravity of the subject for now, your heart still somersaults giddily in your chest when you process his words. You stare up at him, and you can’t even be embarrassed about the affectionate twinkle that must be painfully apparent in your eyes.

Won’t be marrying you for your talents in the kitchen, then, now will I?

You smile shyly and give Alex a small shake of your head.

“No,” you say softly, “I guess not. Not for that.”

[screamingatanemptyroom]

I Can’t Eat Love pt 12

Hey everyone! The story continues! Thanks to everyone who sends me messages and comments! Sorry if I’m spamming your feeds, but I try to answer all the old questions before posting the next part, so I don’t get too far behind. 

I’m really having fun, and I hope you guys are too!

Master post linked here

Quick content warning for this next part. Lenora’s mother is emotionally and physically abusive. The physical part is not described or detailed. 

______________________________

I thought I had mentally prepared for my mother’s  arrival. It had been almost two years since I had last seen her face in my past life. I couldn’t help but wonder if she would be any different in this one. So many things had already changed here and there, perhaps she had as well. 

Sitting at my desk, pretending to work but unable to even read one page, I stopped to laugh at myself. At these types of pathetic hopes. I knew better than anyone that she wouldn’t change.

I heard the sounds of a carriage outside, dropping the unread book in my hand with a loud thud. My heart rate increased, pounding in my chest as I stood up, moving towards the entrance.

I could already hear her screaming.

 “HOW DARE YOU DROP MY BAG YOU STUPID COW!”  Mother stood there, her face red with rage, screaming at one the young women who worked as a maid at our home. She was a newer higher, I had only seen her a few times around the main hall, but I felt a pang of sympathy as she shied away from my mother’s anger, mumbling apologies as she clutched the bag in question.

“I’LL TEACH YOU TO DISRESPECT ME!” the terrified words and tears of the maid fell on deaf ears, as my mother raised her hand, preparing to strike the girl. Even in her anger, a slight grin tugged on the corner of her mouth. She thrived off of moments like this, making others afraid.  

______________________________

“What happened?!” As she got in the carriage after the disastrous party, mother glared at my father and me, confused.

 “Prince Ronan… he… he broke of the engagement.” I could barely force the words out through my tears. My father sat at my side, trying to hand me a handkerchief to dry my eyes, looking overwhelmed.

“…” The carriage was deathly silent.  My mother looked at me with a tired, disdainful gaze.

“So you’ve finally done it?” Her gaze was sharp, feeling as though it was flaying me open. “I’ve told you over and over to ensure he fell in love with you, and in the end you couldn’t even keep him interested enough to tie the knot?!”

“Dear, maybe this isn’t the time or place…?” My father interrupted with a sympathetic glance towards me, but was ignored.

 “Did he leave you for another woman?” Her question was cold, sucking all the warmth out of the carriage. I shivered, trying to hold back further tears and nodded silently.

“THEN WHY DID I WASTE ALL MY TIME ON SUCH A WORTHLESS GIRL?!!” Her hand raised up in the air. I closed my eyes as it came down towards me, wishing I was someone else.

______________________________

 The lawn was silent. Mother’s hand was stopped, paused mid-swing as I reached out and grabbed it. The contact stung my palm, but I smiled gently, refusing to show any pain in front of her.  Behind me, the maid still crouched, staring up at us both with wide eyes, only releasing the bag she still held as a grim-faced Hallers reached out and took it from her.

“Welcome back, Mother. Why don’t we have some tea inside?” 

My first words to my mother since I woke up in my second life. It felt oddly surreal. Our eyes met, and despite my complex feelings she didn’t appear to realize anything was amiss. Shrugging, she dropped her hand and stepped away from the maid, a bored expression back in place.

 “No, no tea just yet.” She was looking at the family home with disgust. “I must have a bath first, I’m positively filthy from the road dust.” Without a further glance at anyone, she strolled inside, heading upstairs. Shooting a quick glance to me to confirm I had no disagreement, Hallers went into action, giving out instructions to the servants to arrange the bath and unpacking.  

With a small sigh of relief, I turned to return inside, only to pause as I felt a small tug on my sleeve.

Surprised, I looked back to see the maid I had rescued from being struck.

“Thank you, Miss!” Her eyes were filled with gratitude, making me unsure as to how to answer. I wasn’t someone who should be thanked. I was the one who brought that woman back in the first place.

I forced a smile, “Don’t worry about it. She thinks everyone is useless…” I paused, briefly looking back at the home which now contained my mother. “Especially me.”

“That’s impossible!” She stuttered slightly on her reply, obviously nervous at the conversation, “No one could think YOU are useless, after everything you’ve done! Everyone looks up to you, Miss!”

“I wouldn’t say that…” I met Hallers gaze, expecting him to chastise the girl for not returning to work but found him nodding in agreement instead. I wondered briefly if complimenting me was the way to get on his good side, and then brushed the idea aside as ridiculous. Hallers was an eternal professional. He would never give leeway in the rules for such a silly reason!

Focusing back on the young maid, I asked. “What’s your name?”

“Lia, Miss.” She curtseyed as she spoke, a well-practiced gesture. Despite her youth and inexperience, she had obviously been working hard. I made a mental note to commend her to Hallers later, along with a warning to keep her away from my mother.

It was the least I could do.

“Well Lia, I’m happy you’re fine.” I turned away and walked back inside, thinking of the confrontation that was awaiting me shortly. 

“One of us should be.”

______________________________ 

My mother took her time with the bath, only coming down after several hours had passed. I had given up waiting and was going through some of the weekly expense reports in the office, feeling tense. Every nerve was on edge. If anything, it seemed  as though Mother’s long absence from the family had worsened her self-indulgent and abusive personality. My hopes of being able to reason with her were disappearing fast. 

This was not going to go well.

A quiet knock on the door sounded, and Hallers, his face once again expressionless, let my mother in. I stood up to greet her, smiling despite my sudden nervousness, and looked over at the butler, feeling a pain in my chest at the concern in his eyes.

“We’ll need a few minutes alone. I’ll ring for tea once we’re done.”

He looked back at my mother for a moment, worry slipping through his otherwise perfect mask. “Are you sure?” He whispered. It must have cost him a lot to ask this, and  for the briefest of moments I wished more than anything I could say yes. That I could hide behind him and beg him to stay. To protect me from what I had to do next.

 But that wouldn’t help me in the end. I had to change my fate, and to do that… I needed my mother on board.

“I’m sure.” And I was. Despite how much I wanted to avoid this, I knew with absolute certainty that I didn’t want him to witness what I was about to do. “I… have to do this. “ 

His face resumed its mask, but his eyes stayed on mine.  “Good luck, Miss.”

The door closed behind him, and I was alone with my mother.

______________________________

She was beautiful, it was impossible to deny it. Coppery hair, held up in an intricate design, large dark eyes framed by full lashes, her features were delicate, hardly touched by time. She moved with a grace of a much younger woman, each motion stunning to watch.

She sat down in one of the chairs, looking me over with a critical eye. “How are things going with the Prince?” The first question she always asked when she saw me.

How many times had I dreamed of giving her a positive answer, of finally making her proud of me?

But it was never meant to be, in this life or the last.

“We barely see each other.”  

In response, She glared at me, annoyed by my answer. “PERHAPS if you put more attention to your appearance?” She glanced at my dress again. “No man would want to court a plain girl who dresses like a servant!”

I couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at that. I did wear simpler designs at home, no longer comfortable in the complex lace ridden monstrosities that Angela constantly wanted me to wear, but it was still well made, elegant clothing. This design was one of our best sellers at Prosperity, in fact. 

“No, this just won’t do.” She shook her head, smiling condescendingly at me. “I’ve heard of this new shop, “Prosperity.” Apparently it’s all the rage among the nobility. I’ll take you there before your birthday and we’ll try to make you look presentable.”

I kept my face straight, sitting down behind my desk. “That’s alright, I own quite a few dresses from there already.”

How I managed to say that without laughing, I was unsure. Fortunately, Mother didn’t notice, it was unclear if she had even heard my response at all. She was already making her own plans.

“Of course, I’ll go shopping tomorrow, I need an entirely new wardrobe. I’ve had this for an entire season, and I hate to have them think I’m out of fashion. Then once we’re done at the dress shop we’ll move on to accessories…” She continued speaking, but I had already stopped listening, internally wincing as I mentally added up the amount of money she was already planning on spending within her first day of arriving.

I couldn’t let this happen.

“Mother,” I interrupted her, ignoring her annoyed stare, “As far as shopping goes, we’ll have to be careful. We still have debt to pay, and we can’t afford…”

“Of course we can afford it!” She waved a hand, dismissing my concerns. “Your father is a lord! We run the duchy!”

I shook my head. “The money from the duchy is all going back into the land for now, to help it get back on its feet. Right now we are solely getting money from my business…”

“WHAT?” She jumped to her feet, her face pale. “Are you working for money, you stupid girl? Who do you think you are, a merchant’s daughter?!” She laughed, an angry, bitter sound. “If anyone caught wind of this, if the palace heard of this… you’d be finished socially.”

“We’d be finished anyways, given the amount of debt we had.”

“None of that will matter when you are Queen!” Her voice was raising, her face turning red. “No one will dare collect from us then!”

“We can’t count on that.” My voice turned pleading. “Please be reasonable, we must live within our means…”

“WE COULD COUNT ON IT IF YOU WERE DOING YOUR JOB PROPERLY!” Leaning over my desk, her face was close to my own, I could see my face reflected in her furious gaze. “If you were prettier, smarter… better… He would love you and never look away. Don’t you DARE ruin my life because you are too boring to keep your own fiancé from straying!”

Mother sat down, catching her breath as she finished her tirade. I watched her with a tired gaze, wishing I was anywhere else. That I was anyone else.

My hand trembled as it inched towards the drawer in my desk.

“Please, Mother. For once in your life consider your family before yourself. I’m only asking for a little restraint, nothing life-changing. Can’t we just…” My voice broke. “Be a family? Work together?”

She laughed, her eyes mocking me as she answered with a smile. “You do not tell me what to do. You should never have had any involvement with the Duchy’s finances or a business in the first place. We’ll put a stop to it immediately. Your father will take over, as is proper, and you will focus all your attention on catching and keeping the prince’s attention. As for me?” She chuckled. “I am going shopping tomorrow.”

I felt a chill, as my heart froze within my chest. My gaze turned cold and my hand no longer trembled as I unlocked the drawer, slowly removing the folder from underneath the false bottom. 

The file I had Rig prepare as his second assignment. The one I hoped would never have to be used.

Thud.

I tossed the papers on the desk in front of her. I was smiling, but the expression didn’t meet my eyes, which grew colder as she reached for the papers, confused 

“What is this?”

“See for yourself.” Every word lacked emotion. I couldn’t allow myself any chance to feel pity for her, to feel regret over what had to be done.

She opened the file, reading each page, the blood quickly draining from her face. Tossing the papers to the floor, she glared at me, spitting with rage. 

“LIES!” 

I sighed. “No, Mother. That’s the truth.” I pointed at the folder. “You are having an affair with the Earl of Beral. You have been visiting him at his private house regularly during the time you pretended you were staying with family. The affair has been going on for two years now, although he is by no means the first.” I explained the contents of the papers with a dispassionate tone, as if describing the weather. “Every detail of your affairs is written down in that file. Every. Sordid. Detail. ” 

Her eyes widened. “No matter what some piece of paper says, that doesn’t make it true.”

“But it is true, Mother.”

And it was.

______________________________

“Mother!” I slammed the door to the small room we were renting, furious. “Did you steal from the dress shop I work for?!”

She sat at the table, her usually well-styled hair disheveled. I noticed she was wearing a beautiful new gown, now stained with dirt. In one hand clutched a piece of paper, the other covered her eyes as she sobbed. 

“That bastard!” She pounded the table with the fist holding the paper, crumpling it further. “THAT DIRTY, LYING BASTARD!”

I was confused, but still pushed forward, determined to hear the answer. “Mother… did you steal from the shop I work for? They fired me today, thinking that we were working together! That was the only source of income we had! What are we going to do?!”

She dropped the hand covering her eyes, glaring at me. “None of that matters, you stupid girl! I needed the money so I took it!” She sniffed disdainfully. “I’m the wife of their Duke, they owe it to me!”

I winced. We hadn’t seen father in weeks. Severely depressed after we had lost our home, he had taken to gambling in gentleman’s halls. I hid what money I could, but he somehow always found some to take with him, only to come back with nothing, smelling of alcohol and regret. I had heard rumors that he owed the wrong kind of people money now, and with him not returning day after day, I assumed the worst.

“We’re not owed anything now, Mother.” I sat down at the table as well, feeling defeated. “What’s wrong?”

“I took the time to get dressed up, and go see him! He should be GRATEFUL! How dare he turn me away, as if he’s somehow BETTER than me!” She was barely coherent in her rants, throwing the piece of paper on the table.

I looked at the letter, and felt pain at the words. “You were having an affair with the Earl of Beral?”

 “Six years we’ve known each other! But now that he has a young whore for a wife he suddenly doesn’t need me anymore!” She pounded the table again with her fist. “I thought he simply wasn’t getting my letters, that’s why he hasn’t come to get me… but this…”

I wanted to cry, but held back my tears, trying to reach out to comfort her. “Mother…”

She slapped my hand away. “STAY away from me!” She spat, standing up and pointing at me. “This is all YOUR fault! All you had to do was marry the Queen’s brat and we would have been happy!”

“Mo...”

“You killed your father, you know?” She grinned viciously “He died in a ditch, alone, without a single crown to his name and it’s all YOUR fault!”

“…” I couldn’t speak, it hurt too much to breathe.

“Well I’m not staying here a moment longer.” Mother walked to the door, pausing and looking back at me. “I’m going to find the earl, and I’m going to remind him of who I am. And all the dirt I have on him.” She laughed. “Goodbye.”

The door slammed behind her, leaving me alone, staring at the door.

______________________________

“Even if  you have this… paper.” Mother pointed at the file on the floor. “It doesn’t prove anything.”

I shrugged. “I don’t have to prove anything, Mother. All I have to do is release this information to the nobility.” 

Her mouth gaped open for a few stunned moments. “You wouldn’t!”

“I would. You would be cast out from all proper society. A social pariah.”

“But… You would ruin your own reputation at the same time!”

“It may be slightly detrimental, yes.” I spread my hands helplessly. “But after father divorces you and we’re separated legally, many will remember how little you and I see each other. They think of the Queen as raising me more than you already. In the end, I’ll survive the scandal.” I stood, keeping her gaze. “But you won’t.”

In the silence that followed I gathered the papers on the floor, stacking them neatly on the desk and sitting back down.

 “You will be given a monthly allowance. Use the money how you will. Be here for birthdays and anniversaries, otherwise I don’t care where you are or how you spend your life. I think both Father and I would be happier if you spent as little time as possible here.”

I handed her some money, which she held limply in her hand. She stared up with me, her eyes filled with a hopeless rage.

 “I will make you pay for this, you ungrateful brat! You’ll regret crossing me!”

Tapping the folder in front of me, I smiled. “Try me.”

“You’re a monster!” She whispered the words, staring down at the papers that held her dark secrets.

“Naturally.” I stood up leaning closer, whispering the last words in her ear. “One gave birth to me.”

She left silently, and I sat back in my chair in silence.

______________________________

It was done.

I should feel relieved, or angry or sad… but instead, I felt empty.

I had wished for a different ending in this life.

______________________________

I stood on the street, staring at the woman’s body on the street. Rig put a hand on my arm, worried. “I didn’t want you to see this, but Hale said she looked like you…”

“It’s my mother.” I whispered, taking in the all too familiar features, now still and silent. “How…?”

“Made to look like a robbery, but there’s some whispers that an Earl might have paid someone to keep her quiet.” He studied my face for a few moments. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“No.” I turned away, shaking my head slowly. “You can’t help the dead.”

______________________________

She was still alive in this life, and even if she never loved me… I still hoped she had a different end in this one.

I stared down at the folder on my desk, replacing it in its hidden compartment. It felt unnaturally heavy in my hands.

This was what I was now.

“A monster.” I whispered, feeling the room starting the fade around me. I was having trouble catching my breath. I reaching out a hand for the bell to call Hallers, but it seemed to move further away.

“Miss?” I heard the door open, but the sound was wrong, as if I were underwater. “I saw her Ladyship exit, are you…”

“A monster.” As I fell through the darkness I felt someone grab me.

“LENORA!”

______________________________

Unsure of how much time had passed, I started to fight my way to consciousness, but paused as I heard familiar voices.

“Thank you for checking on her. The doctor says she’ll be fine, she just needs rest.”

Hallers? Who is he talking to?  I wanted to sit up but  every muscle in my body felt weak as if I had run for miles without rest.

“She works too hard!” A woman spoke out, upset. Maline? “She needs to learn to take it easy, she’s not even sixteen yet and everyone depends on her.”

“She’s tough.” Another voice answered, the accent reminded me of Rig. “She’ll take on the world and win.”

 “I know she’s tough, but I worry!”

“I worry too.”

The voice that sounded like Hallers sighed. “All we can do is support her. But if anyone hurts her…”

Rig’s voice laughed. “Oh they won’t live to regret it, will they?”

I wanted to speak out, ask them who they were talking to, but even as I prepared to open my eyes, a wave of exhaustion hit me, and I returned to the peace of unconsciousness.

[peachessashaven]

Who Do You Love - Joe Mazzello x Reader

Synopsis: Joe's been distant lately with you, you're confused on why. Let's hope he can own up soon on why.

Words: 3.7k

Warning: like one swear word, reader be confused af

A/N: yall my best friend wrote this masterpiece its better than ive ever written but she cant be fucked putting it on her blog 😂 i love her a lot so show this some love too!!

Everything or nothing, that’s how it’s always been with Joe, and he’s always given me his everything. That’s why I found his behavior strange lately. I wouldn’t call it distant, but something had changed, like how he had been acting around me. He’s been dismissive, not wanting to spend as much time with me, but this behaviour wasn’t unusual, or unnatural for what’s changed in his life. He’s been on set for the past few months with his mates - coming home at unreasonable hours of the morning, 3am, 4am or even 6 in the morning. “Hey Babe, did you want to go out for dinner tonight? Maybe to a nice fancy restaurant, just the two of us?” I had asked, happily. Looking towards Joe for your answer, after throwing my pillow on the freshly made up bed. Joe and I lived together, it’s been this way for just over a year now. Everything had been going great when we both moved in together, it was like nothing had changed. He still took us out on dates, spontaneous gifts here and there, nothing too out there. But, maybe about a week ago, that went dull. “Sorry, Hon. I can’t.” He said dryly, coming out from the bathroom with a towel around hung atop of his damp hair, which would be a rather attractive sight to you if it weren’t for the disappointing news. A frown made its way upon my face as I had nodded sadly. “Oh, alright.” Shaking my head, I looked up towards where Joe was and smiled at him, running my hand through my hair, pushing it back. “That’s alright. I know that you’re busy with work and everything,” I explained as I turned off the Radio that sat on our nightstand, right next to a photo of Joe and I, the day we spent our one year anniversary at the beach. “I just thought it would be nice for you to have some time away for a while, you know?” My voice progressively got more and more shaky. I spun around after taking a good look at the photo. Joe looked at me with sorrowful eyes, and took a step closer towards me. Shaking my head, I smiled more, even if I felt like my heart had fallen down to my feet. “I just thought that some time out away from everything, your practice and rehearsal,” Without my knowledge, a tear rolled down towards my chin. Sniffling and wiping away the tear, I shook my head once more, forgetting what I was going to say. “It really is okay, I just miss you.” Looking up into his eyes. “I really...I just really fucking miss you, Joe.” Heading towards the bathroom door behind him, I softly spoke before shutting the door. “I have to get ready for work.” My eyes landed on his face just before I closed the door. Dread. That’s all I saw. His eyes filled with pure sadness and dread. Another tear had strolled its way down my cheek. This feeling... I never want to feel it again. That was 6 days ago. I have spoken to Joe since then, of course, but it’s been small conversations, like how was your day and what do you want for dinner, as well as I Love You’s. To say I had been moping around the house since then would be an understatement. Of course I had been sad, but Joe hadn’t even apologised, or asked me if I’ve been okay since then. The same look of sadness hadn’t left his eyes, so I haven’t even thought the fact that he might want to leave me. He wouldn’t...would he? Hearing my phone’s ringtone blast from the lounge-room, I left the kitchen to see who it was calling me. “Hey Gwilym, what’s up?” Trying your best to sound like you’ve been doing alright. “Hey, love!” His welsh accent coming through easily. “I was just calling to see if you’d like to come on set and watch us rehearse? I know Joe might’ve contacted you about it already, but since you’re not here, I thought I’d ask if you wanted to come!” He sounds peachy and genuinely happy. I hope that Joe is too. “We all love your company around here, and it would be such a delight to have you.” Smiling, I nodded, trying to ignore the fact that my heart still sat at my feet. Joe hadn’t said anything to me about coming in today, he hadn’t asked me if I wanted to come in and watch them rehearse, catch up with my friends. “Yeah, sure! I’ll see you guys soon, just text me the address of where you guys are rehearsing today.” As I was about to say goodbye, his voice piped up once more. “How have you been lately, angel? I haven’t heard from you much. And I would ask Joe, but you’re the person I’m asking about, so I’d pick it as common sense to call you and ask.” Him asking how I’ve been is one thing, but to know he was genuinely concerned about me that he hadn’t gone to Joe to ask about my wellbeing is another. Gwilym was probably one of the guys I was closest to, minus Joe. After Joe had introduced me to the guys, Gwilym never failed on checking up on me, resulting on me getting closer and closer to him. “Yeah, I’m fine, Gwil.” Sounding a little bit deflated, I knew he would’ve picked up on it, so I tried to cover up. “Just a bit tired lately, you know? Work and all.” A dry laugh came out from my mouth. “You don’t have to worry about me.” He stayed silent for a moment. I knew that he figured out that I wasn’t telling the truth. Nonetheless, he replied. “Alright, but I will always worry. You’re my friend, of course.” He spoke, gentle and slow, as to let me know he was genuine and true. That sent a pang straight to my heart. I felt my eyes well with tears. Wow, I’m emotional. “Thank you, Gwil, but I’ll be okay.” Pausing for just a moment, i resumed talking. “Well, alright. I’m going to go and get ready then. I’ll see you soon, yeah?” He responds with a small yes, and then a goodbye. After we had hung up, I rolled my head backwards, taking in a long breath, and then breathing out, feeling like some of the weight had gone. If only it were that easy. Not bothering to hop into the shower, having had one late last night, I just walked into the room and got myself ready. Throwing on a T-Shirt, sweater and some well fitted jeans, I tugged on my boots and left the house. After I lock the car, I walk through the car park. When I see Ben and Gwilym laughing and bickering, I let out a small laugh at their silliness, wondering if they do the same with Joe. My smile falters as my thoughts bring Joe into play, I shake my head - I don’t need to be thinking of him right now, I’ve got my friends to see. “Hey Y/N!” Gwil yells from where they’re standing. I smile widely as I lift my arm up to wave at them, walking towards where they stood. “Hey guys!” I giggle with excitement as I see they’re trying to fight for the first hug. I hug Gwil first, Ben shrugs and decides to join in, pulling us all together, closer. I let out another laugh as they both let go of me. “How have you guys been?” I ask, pulling a strand of hair behind my ear, listening intently. “Yeah! We’ve been great!” Ben says, enthusiastically. It was nice to be with them, they were so calm, fun and laid back, all things that Joe hasn’t been lately, and it makes me sad. I want Joe to be as happy as them, especially when they’re at home. “Oh god, you guys really do look like young Rog and Bri,” I play with a strand of Gwil’s fake bouncy hair. “Holy shit, it feels so real too!” “C’mon, hun, come on in!” Gwilym extends his hand in front of him, in the gesture of ‘come along’. I smile and begin to walk in, Ben on my right and Gwil on my left. Heading off into the set of the recording studio, Ben and Gwil disappearing somewhere into the crowd of makeup artists, I assumed, I looked around the room, observing it. It looked like the inside of a shack, but behind the glass was where they, Queen, would’ve recorded their songs. Or, actually, a replica of where they would have recorded their songs. “When did you get here?” Hearing a familiar voice behind me, my heart began to race. Turning around to see Joe, my heart raced faster. He had his wig, makeup and outfit on, all prepared for his scenes. He really looks like the younger version of John Deacon! Behind his eyes were some sort of happiness, but I could tell that when he saw me, he was nervous. Nervous about what, I wouldn’t know, my best guess is getting his lines right. Smiling at him, I walked towards him to give him a small hug, saying a gentle hello. Pulling back from him, I smiled at him. He gave me a small smile back, and leaned forward to kiss my cheek. Feeling my cheeks become slightly hot, I looked down towards the ground, bashfully. Taking a small step backwards, away from him, I took a glance around the room again. “Is this where they would record their songs?” Referring to Queen, I looked back at Joe shortly after glancing around the room once more. He nodded his head lightheartedly. “Well, it's a recreation of what would have been their recording studio.” He smiles as he looks around. “It’s amazing, isn’t it?” As he’s looking around, I take the time to observe the man that I adore. His eyes were looking right into mine, his beautiful, hazel eyes. His adorable puppy-dog eyes. They haven't changed since I had met him. His defined jaw wasn’t sporting his usual beard, he was shaven clean for the movie. Honestly, I love him when he does or doesn’t have his facial hair. I mean, he is gorgeous no matter what. His beard makes it all the more fun to kiss him, having the fun, ticklish feeling left to linger. As I start to look around, I feel a pair of eyes on me. Looking back at Joe, his eyes met mine once more. As the blood rushes to my cheeks, causing a tint of pink to spread across my cheeks, leaving them rosy, I can’t tell what he’s feeling anymore. Whether he is feeling too much, or nothing at all. “Can you wait here for just a second?” He asks, reaching out to hold my hand. My heart started to beat faster as I nodded my head, reaching my arm out for his hand to grab mine. He rubbed his thumb on the top of my hand, and then let go. I didn’t want him to let go of my hand, his hands felt so soft and warm, I felt safe just holding them. When his hand slipped out of mine, I felt like whimpering. I felt like I was losing something, but he gave me a reassuring smile, and then left the room. As the door closed, I felt cold. I moved myself backwards to sit on the couch in the back of the room. Ten minutes had passed and Joe still hadn’t come back, so I decided I would get up and walk around the room, observe more closely. As I had stood up to take a closer look at things, Gwilym had walked in. I wouldn’t say he looked panicked, but definitely flushed. “Gwil, is everything okay?” I ask with a small chuckle coming from my mouth. He doesn’t say a word. He just grabs my wrist, wearing a smile from ear to ear, and then leads us out of the room. “Gwil, where are we going? I’m supposed to wait for Joe-” All that is going through my body right now is the feeling of utter confusion. When Gwil looks over his shoulder with a small smirk, I am even more confused. He shuffles us past small groups of people, other parts of the set, I couldn’t even tell where we were going anymore. When he opened a door and pushed us through, we found ourselves at a fountain. A beautiful fountain. My eyes widened, looking around the beautiful place. “This place… It’s gorgeous!” Spinning to get a 360 view of the room, I turned around to look at Gwilym, but it turns out that in the midst of walking in here and now, he walked out. Standing on the small set, surrounded by four walls, I found myself in awe with everything. The floor was artificial grass, yet soft and felt so real, dusted with small pink, yellow, and purple flowers. All of my favourite colours. There was a small tree in corner, setting shading upon the fountain that was spurting water. The water that rests in the fountain was adorned with lily pads that had flowers carefully placed on the top of them. I couldn’t help but admire everything that I was surrounded in. I felt like a princess in a fantasy world, this doesn’t seem real. “Hi, Sweetie.” Hearing Joe’s soft voice behind me, I saw that he looked completely different than when I had last saw him. He wasn’t John Deacon anymore, he was Joseph Mazzello, the man I had fallen madly in love with the day I had met him. “Joe.” I said, but it came out more as a question than anything. I knew it was him, but I didn’t know why he wasn’t in his wig anymore. “What’s going on? I thought rehearsal didn’t finish until late?” Cocking my head to the side, I took a closer look at him. Was he wearing a tuxedo? He walked towards me with me smile on his face, a tinge of pink dusting his cheekbones. “Y/N, I have debated on when I wanted to do this,” He began, making my heart race faster and faster. Having that smile on his face washed away all my worries of him ending this relationship. “But seeing you stand there in front of me, your cheeks pink, eyes filled with nothing but love, I knew my decision had been made right then and there.” His smile had only gotten wider, and I felt that I could hear his heart beating out of his chest. “But before I do go on, there is one thing I want to get out of the way first.” He’s all I can see. Nothing else in this room is in my view. The faux grass, the tree, the fountain or the lily pads, nothing. Just Joe. Just Joe in his navy blue suit, bowtie and well shined shoes. “I know that recently, I haven’t been myself. I didn’t notice, but when I told the boys, they helped me see things really clearly. And I am so sorry if I had made you feel unloved, or scared that you would lose me. I am so sorry.” He sniffled gently, keeping the water that was welling his eyes at bay. Dabbing his clothed wrist onto his eyes, ridding himself of the water, he continued on with his speech. “You are my everything. You’re honestly all I see. I don’t want to be anywhere without you, or without the memory of you. I want to go everywhere and be there with you, or if you can’t be there, remember us going there together. I don’t want to be without you.” The water reappeared at the brim of his eyes, just as they appeared in mine too. My heart continued to beat loudly. He took one more step closer, one stray tear strolling down his cheek. I instinctively lifted my arm, pressing my thumb against his cheek to wipe away the tear. He chucked and grabbed my arm, sliding it down to slip his hand into mine, moving his other arm forward to grab my other hand, holding them both.

“You are the person I cherish the most. I love our time together.” He smiled, sniffling once more, swinging our arms side to side. “Do you remember our first year anniversary?” He chuckles. Remembering back to the day, I laughed with him. That day at the beach, I had been frightened by the birds down there, running away from them, all while trying to desperately keep my hat on in the rough wind. Joe stood a fair bit away, laughing at the scene while trying to shoo the birds away. Nodding my head, he continued with what he was saying. “That day, I won’t ever forget it. Not just because you were afraid of the birds,” He laughed gently, but then tightened his grip in my hands. “But because that day, the sun hit you in a way I have never seen. You looked like an angel. A real life angel, send down here to bless not just me, but every person that you come in contact with in every way possible.” His voice was soft, fragile, like he was trying not to break glass. “I would say you have never looked more beautiful, but you get more and more beautiful every day. I can never get enough of you, I really can’t. You take my breath away with every passing moment.” As he finished his sentence, I looked at him with so much love in my eyes. I squeezed his hands harder just as he was slipping them out from my grasp. He took a small step back, and then got down on one knee. “Joe?” I asked, my heart beating a million miles an hour, my heart just about to come out of my chest. My hands had flung up to my mouth instinctively, not knowing what else to do with them. “Baby, I honestly cannot see my future without you in it, and I don’t want to hold this off any longer.” He takes a small black velvet box out of his back pocket and holds it in his hand. “You mean so much to me, and I would feel like the luckiest guy on the face of this earth if you would be my wife, Y/N.” He opens the box to reveal a simple, yet elegant silver ring. Nodding my head vigorously, he shot up, wrapping his arms around me. “I love you so much, Joe. Of course, of course I’ll marry you.” Saying, trying to sound like I’m not about to cry, I hug him tightly in my arms. Hearing repeated bang’s go off behind Joe, I look to see that Gwil, Ben, Rami and Lucy had all been standing there with party poppers in their hands. “Congratulations you guys!” Lucy loudly says, over all of the boys popping their poppers after she did hers. Lucy raced forward to throw her arms around the both of us, the boys following suit. Congratulations and I’m so happy for you guys were thrown around, but in all honesty, my eyes were only set on Joe, who had never looked happier. He was smiling from ear to ear and his eyes were glistening, like there were stars in his eyes. Moving my hand from Joe’s back, where I was hugging him, I placed my hand on his cheek. He turned his head to look at me, his eyes filling with fondness and love. As we got closer, our lips pressing against one another, cheers had filled the room once again. Not having a single care in the world, my hand had slipped from his cheek to the back of his neck, my fingers running through his hair in the process. His hand had found its place on my back, pushing me closer to him. Hearing mumbling and then a door closing, I had only assumed that the group had made their way outside, giving us our privacy. Our lips didn’t pull away for another minute after that. When we needed air, only then we decided to pull away, our foreheads pressed together. “I love you so much, Y/N.” His eyes, his shining, emerald green eyes had opened to look directly into mine, his hand from my back finding its way to rest on my cheek, his thumb rubbing away any tears that had strayed from my eyes. “I love you so much too, Joe. Enough that I would marry your goofy ass.” Chuckling silently, I leaned forward to peck his lips once more, pulling away, resting my arms on his shoulders to keep steady. His lips twitched into a smirk, his hands landing on my hips. “Oh, sweetie, you haven’t seen anything yet.” Making the both of us laugh, he pressed his lips against mine with more passion than before, our bodies in much closer proximity than before. My hands finding their way in his hair once more. One of his hands had found their way up my shirt, gripping my torso, like he was embedding my body in his mind. My whole body was pressed right up against his. I started to breathe more heavily than before, my body starting to increase in temperature. Joe had moved his hands from my body, trailing one hand up to cup my cheek. He began to pull away, but I didn’t want him to go, so I pushed myself forward. Feeling him smile against my lips and feeling him laugh, he stopped me from pushing my lips against his, and pulled away. Pouting as he looked me in the eyes, he just rubbed his thumb against my cheek. A smirk spread itself across his face just as he had leaned in to whisper to me. “Don’t worry baby.” His breath fanned against my neck, making goosebumps travel down my whole body. “You can get more when we get home. So much more.” Although I’m very impatient to get home, if this is what the future looks like, I can’t wait.

[queen-scribbles]

Small Price to Pay

Started with wanting to fic when Heodan saved Adi outside the back door to  Clîaban Rilag, kinda spiraled into something a lot bigger. WHOOPS. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯   I REGRET NOTHING

---

The journey to Clîaban Rilag was uneventful, and would have been downright pleasant if not for the intermittent rain showers. Even those could have been worse, as it was still warm enough to keep them from being truly uncomfortable, and none lasted long. The true threat to their progress--and once or twice their safety--proved to be Adela’s curious nature. There was just so much flora and fauna in the Dyrwood she’d never seen in Ixamitl, she veered off the road for “just a quick look” more times than she could count. Most of those times resulted in no more than a few minutes lost each, but one disturbed a pair of wood beetles, young things and easily dealt with, and not far past the Dyrford Crossing, she started for a patch of tall-stemmed flowers only to have Kana yank her away by the back of her dress--just ahead of the lunge from a stelgaer she hadn’t seen. It was not happy to lose an easy lunch, and put up a decent fight before Aloth and Pallegina managed to kill it.

“Perhaps it is better we keep to the road, ac?” Pallegina asked with a pointedly raised brow as she wiped her sword blade clean on the stelgaer’s coat before re- sheathing it.

“Sorry,” Adela said with a sheepish smile. “There’s just so much that’s new here, and these are so pretty...” she gestured toward the flowers. “But I have been slowing us down and would hate for any of you to get hurt ‘cause of me.”

“We’re used to buildin’ in time for you to explore,” Edér consoled, shooting her a wink. “An’ no harm done, right? Now c’mon, we can make a couple hours’ progress ‘fore it starts gettin’ dark.”

Despite his reassurance, Adela cast a guilty look at the dead stelgaer. Sure, no one had gotten hurt thanks to her--this time--but what if there had been more than one? A full grown stelgaer was nothing to sneeze at, and even alone this one had come uncomfortably close to both Kana and Heodan. If it had help...

Adela shuddered and twisted the ring that encircled her index finger, nails dragging over the inset blue stones. But it had been alone, and none of her friends had so much as a scratch, and what had turned her into such a worrywart? She glanced over her shoulder at the kith following her lead and a blush climbed her cheeks. She knew what. Or, rather, who. But that was ridiculous, just a silly crush, and he was plenty capable of taking care of himself-

She tripped over a wheel rut in the road and was sharply reminded getting distracted was a bad idea. Better to pay attention now and let her thoughts run rampant after they made camp. When no one would get hurt as a result(unless, maybe, she was the one cooking).

Edér was right; they pulled a couple more hours of travel from the day before shadows reached telltale length and they made camp in a meadow. Edér volunteered to make dinner, which meant there was nothing required of her until her shift at watch. Adela pulled out a book, as usual, and tried to read, as usual. But tonight her thoughts kept drifting  to the crouching stelgaer, Kana’s hand twisting in the fabric of her dress to yank her out of the danger, Edér’s loud whoop as he’d charged forward to take the brunt of the threat.

I really need to be more careful, she chastised herself, tracing the lettering of a chapter title with her fingertip before she resumed the attempt at reading. Instead, she remained so lost in thought she didn’t even hear the approaching footsteps and started slightly when Heodan sat next to her.

“What’s wrong?” he asked without preamble.

“What makes you think something’s wrong?” Adela asked innocently, letting the book lay against her lap as she looked up at him.

He nudged her book. “To start, you’ve been on the same page for five minutes, so clearly you’re distracted. Given that you’ve also been far quieter than usual for the past couple hours, it seems a safe bet something’s wrong.” He gave her a faint, crooked smile. “If you want to talk...”

He knew her entirely too well, and Wael’s eyes, it wasn’t fair(no matter how warm it made her inside). Adela tried to smile. “Well, you know me, I always wanna talk.”

“About what’s bothering you,” Heodan clarified, running one hand through his hair and leaving it an even more tousled mess than usual.

She hesitated a beat, but it wasn’t like this was some deep, dark secret or anything. “I just feel bad my curiosity put all of you at risk. I do love learning and experiencing new things, but I’d hate for someone else to get hurt in the process.”

“Considering you’re the one who was almost pinned by a hungry stelgaer, I’d say your curiosity came a lot closer to hurting you than any of us,” he pointed out wryly, playing with a frayed spot on his shirtsleeve. “We don’t want to see you get hurt, either.”

She snorted and flipped the book closed so she could brace an elbow against the cover and rest her chin in her palm. “Guess the only solution’s for me to be less curious, huh?” Somehow...

“No.” From the way Heodan’s cheeks colored, he maybe hadn’t meant to say it quite so vehemently. He dropped his gaze to his sleeve, picking harder at the frayed spot and biting his lip. “Even assuming you could be less curious, that would be...” He sighed, glanced sideways to meet her gaze. “The world needs kith who are curious, Adi. Who question and explore and learn everything they can about anything they can. They’re the ones who preserve history and bring progress. Kith like you are...” His gaze dropped back to the ever-growing hole he’d picked in his sleeve. “Well, rare. And for you to curb such a part of yourself, especially such an important part of yourself, out of fear would be a shame.”

Adela huffed her bangs out of her eyes and sighed, even as her heart fluttered.  “I just don’t want you, any of you, getting hurt for my sake.”

He shrugged. “The Dyrwood itself is dangerous, not to mention this... quest?... we’re on, you being excited about new flowers or ancient ruins is less likely to put us in harm’s way than most of the things we deliberately seek out. And I feel relatively safe in saying we don’t mind chasing off the occasional extra stelgaer, or steering you away from a bog.” He nudged her shoulder and smiled encouragingly. “It’s what friends do, isn’t it? And it’s a small price to pay for... for letting you be you.”

Hound’s teeth, her face was so warm the blush had to be showing through her fur. Adela straightened, her hand moving to pick at the carved lines in her necklace pendent, tracing the details of the elephant as she tried to think of a response that was both coherent and not too revealing.The sunset light glinting off the sliver band around his pinkie kept distracting her; its purpose likely to be called upon if she wasn’t more careful. After several long seconds of struggling silence, she decided simplicity was the order of the day and smiled at him.  “Thank you, Heodan. That... means a lot.” Especially from you. She knew any of her friends would likely say the same, but, well... he was the one she worried about most. What with her feelings and everything they’d been through together.

Heodan smiled. “You’re most welcome. Now...” He grimaced self-deprecatingly at the hole he’d made in his sleeve. “I should probably go see what I can do about this.”

“Alright,” she nodded, reluctant to lose his company but unable to think up an excuse for him to stay. “Good luck.”

He chuckled as he stood. “Thank you.”

Adela watched him walk away before returning to her book, soul now settled enough she could at least concentrate. Funny how easily he managed to do that.

---

The evening remained uneventful, and the few lingering clouds even cleared up, giving them a clear view of the stars as the sunset faded to the deep purple-black of night. Between the three of them sharing watch duty, Adela drew the last slot, which meant she got to catch some sleep before essentially just being a slightly earlier riser than usual. She was almost as pleased to have drawn that watch as Edér was to have avoided it--”Just ‘cause I can drag myself outta bed before the sun doesn’t mean I like doin’ it”--and came awake easily when it was her turn. Things stayed quiet, as they had all night, so by halfway through her watch, she had wandered out into the meadow and collected several handfuls of the deep pinkish-purple flowers growing nearby. It was an unfamiliar one to her, but the waxy blossoms were only slightly smaller than her palm, with slender but tough stems, making them perfect for weaving into a crown. Which she did, the movements such habit by now she didn’t even have to take her eyes off the surroundings as she worked. By the time her friends pulled themselves awake shortly after sunrise, Adela sported an expertly woven circlet of pink-purple blooms and was braiding the stems of the leftovers into a small bouquet.

“Kept yourself occupied, I see,” Kana said with a toothy smile and a nod toward the circlet.

“Gotta have something to do that didn’t take too much of my attention,” she said cheerfully. “I can make these in my sleep, so it seemed a good choice.”

“No arguments here,” Kana chuckled.

Adela giggled as she tucked the small cluster of extra blooms in the end of her braid. “So glad you approve.”

“Why wouldn’t we?” Edér chipped in, still yawning. “Look right nice on you. Whadda we got for breakfast? Everything comin’ today, I wanna face it with a full stomach.”

She couldn’t blame him for that, but, “Nothing fancy. I figured the earlier we got moving the better, so traveler’s bread and jerked venison.”

“Nothin’ wrong with that,” he grinned and helped her divvy it up.

They packed camp as they ate, and were ready to start within an hour of everyone being awake. Part of her hated to rush them, but with the early start, they could reach Clîaban Rilag, do what they needed to for both Edér’s sake and following the Leaden Key, and be headed back toward Dyrford inside a day. Given how much they had to do, that was for the best. Though she did hope they had time to explore a little. Surely there was a lot to be gained just from looking around an Engwithan ruin. She could leave everything where it was and still learn so much.

As they set off on the last hour or so of travel to the ruins, she caught Heodan looking at her with a smile tugging at his lips and couldn’t help but smile back.  “What?”

He nodded toward the flower crown. “I see your mood’s improved.”

Adela chuckled as she instinctively brushed her fingers against the petals. “It has. Mostly thanks to you.”

He shook his head. “I think it far more likely that it’s just hard for you to stay gloomy for long.”

“Well, true as that may be,” she said by way of tacit concession, “what you said last night definitely helped.”

Heodan smiled again. “Happy to help. Your curiosity isn’t a weakness, or a danger, and I’d hate for you to view it as such.”

“I don’t,” she assured him, playing with the tail  of her braid. “But I am gonna try to be a little more careful. For all our sakes.”

“That’s fair,” he chuckled.

“And appreciated,” Aloth chipped in from nearby.

Adela wrinkled her nose and her ears twitched back. “I am really sorry for the thing with the oozes, but I didn’t know what kind of reach they had, and this is about my fifth time apologizing in two weeks-”

“Adela, I wasn’t referring to anything specific,” he interjected before she really got going. “Just general relief you’ll be more careful, even if just a little.”

“Oh.” Said something about how guilty she (still) felt that that’s the first place her thoughts went when Aloth commented on her being careful. She rubbed the back of her neck. “Yeah. I know it won’t remove all our risks, but at least I won’t be adding to them.” She paused a beat, then played with a loose wisp of hair as she asked. “Oh, didja finish transcribing that spell you were working on last night?”

Aloth nodded, and the conversation almost seamlessly swung to the spells both of them were learning and still wanting to figure out. Somewhere in there, Adela noticed Heodan had wandered away and felt vaguely guilty she hadn’t really finished her conversation with him. But, really, they’d said everything important, she’d have plenty of time to talk to him later; it wasn’t as if either of them was going anywhere.

---

It wasn’t really a surprise when they caught a glimpse of the Glanfathan hunters clustered in front of the looming doors to Clîaban Rilag, just confirmed the importance Adela had already suspected it held. They gave the knot of kith and beasts a wide berth, and instead fanned out to look for detritus left from the battle fought here during the Saint’s War. She’d help Edér first--if she could--and then worry about how to handle venturing into the ruins themselves.

“Hope we don’t get mistaken for looters again,” Heodan commented with a mirthless smile as he helped Adela check through an overgrown tangle of weeds.

“Saw them, too, huh?” she side with a wry laugh.

“They’re hard to miss,” he deadpanned.

“Considering we do actually need to go in there,” she grunted, straining to reach something shiny trapped in the roots of the weeds, “they’re closer to correct than the ones who attacked the caravan, but I’m aiming to disturb as little as possible inside. Ah!” Her fingers closed around curved metal and she yanked free a Readceran heraldry talisman. Unfortunately with no traces of soul essence lingering, but at least it confirmed there were still things here to find. 

“Do you really think that will be enough for them? Assuming they even believe you?” Heodan asked quietly as they moved toward the stream that flowed through the clearing.

“Based off our previous experience?” Adela looked up at him and raised an eyebrow. “Why d’you think I’m putting off talking to them? Part of me’s hoping there’s another way in,” she admitted as the group forded the stream. “But one thing at a time. We’ll worry about that after we find something to help Edér.”

“If we can,” the farmer interjected in a disgruntled mutter, kicking a rock. “Don’t look like there’s much left, Adi.”

“Don’t give up so fast,” she admonished cheerfully. “There’s still plenty of ground left to cover.”

Edér grinned. “You’re such an optimist.”

“Yep,” Adela chirped, brushing her bangs out of her eyes. “Also, I just have a feeling we’re gonna find something.”

“I’ve learned not to argue with your intuition,” Edér said with a grin and a shrug as he went back to looking.

“Do you really?” Heodan whispered.

“‘Course I do,” Adela whispered back. “I wouldn’t lie just to make him feel better. We’ll find something, you’ll see.”

And they did; a Readceran standard crown that sang with hints of a soul very similar to Edér. They’d had to fight some looters for it, but given the men proved to be anti-Eothasian zealots, and attacked first, Adela found it hard to be terribly broken up over their deaths. Especially not when she saw the hope in Edér’s eyes as he stared at the standard crown.

“Is that...?” he started, before letting the words trail off, as if it were too fantastic as a concept to even voice.

“I feel Woden’s soul on it, yes,” she confirmed with a smile, brushing dirt off the metal sun’s rays. “But there isn’t enough for me to Watch. We’ll take it with us, next time we visit Dunryd Row maybe one of the ciphers can help.”

“Sure. I think I got room...” Edér slung off his pack and opened it. It took a little rearranging, but the standard crown did fit inside. “Thanks, Adi. Now that you’ve managed one thing that should be impossible, guess that’s next?” He jerked a thumb toward the looming ruins, moss and vines covering the walls. 

“It is the other reason we’re here...” Adela sighed. She really wasn’t looking forward to talking her way past the Glanfathans guarding the doors.

“You know, Adi,” Kana began, as if sensing her reluctance, “there a door here as well.” He pointed and she a double take, staring at the section of wall that caught his attention.

Sure enough, hidden by plant growth, she could vaguely see the outline of a door. “Good eye, Kana. One problem...” It was Adela’s turn to point, drawing his attention to the collapsed bridge and the gap between them and the door. “How do we get across?”

“We could just jump,” he half-shrugged. “It doesn’t look to be more than four or five feet, shouldn’t be hard to clear.”

Adela bit her lip as she sized up the gap. He was right; it wasn’t that big. Kana could easily clear it, Edér, Heodan, and Pallegina would be fine as well, and even Aloth was likely tall enough it wouldn’t be a problem. She was the only one who might have trouble. She’d jumped over streams almost that wide before, though. Granted, with the deep ravine the bridge had spanned, the stakes were higher than simply getting her clothes wet. The alternative, however, was trying to navigate a conversation with the Glanfathans guarding the main door.

“Alright, worth a shot,” she said.

Heodan and Aloth frowned almost in unison. “Are you sure-”

“It’ll be fine,” Adela cut them off with a wry smile. “Easier than negotiating with the locals, anyway.” Neither seemed to have their worries assuaged, but they didn’t protest further. “Who’s going first?”

“I’ll do it,” Pallegina volunteered in the same moment Kana started to raise his hand. She smirked, and made an ‘after you’ gesture. “It is your idea, aimico.”

“Very well,” Kana chuckled. He took a couple steps back to gain some momentum, pushed off the edge, and easily cleared the gap. His feet skidded a little on the lichen-slicked stone, but he regained his balance quickly and gestured for them to join him before turning his attention to clearing off the door. 

One by one, her other companions followed without incident. Heodan did pause to shoot her a wordless look of concern, but Adela met it with a reassuring smile. It was sweet that he worried, but it would be fine. She could do this.

Even if the distance seemed to double when she looked at it with the knowledge she had to jump across that.

You can do this, she told herself firmly, and then backed up for a running start. Before she knew it, she’d covered the ground and was pushing off what remained of the bridge abutment. Just as her feet left the ground, her flower crown started to slip, and she instinctively grabbed for it with one hand.

She did make it across, if just barely. But before relief for that fact had time to register, the stone under her feet shifted and cracked and she pitched backward with a yelp. The depths of the ravine were rushing toward her, there was nothing to grab-

A hand closed around her wrist, and she jolted to a wrenching stop just below the lip of the bridge, heart pounding and tears stinging her eyes from the sudden stress on her arm.

And a sharp grunt of pain that wasn’t from her echoing in her ears. Her head snapped up to look, and her gaze locked with Heodan’s wide blue eyes. Pain and raw fear were competing for dominance in his expression, his face almost as white as his knuckles as he tightened his grip on her wrist.

“Don’t let go,” he managed between gritted teeth.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” The attempted joke came out brittle and shaky, terror of what almost happened still sharp in her mind--sharper when she looked down and saw just how dizzyingly far she could have fallen.

“Adi, Adi don’t look.”Heodan’s fingers flexed and his voice caught her attention upwards once more. “Don’t look,” he repeated softly, and she nodded.

The few seconds before Edér and Kana reached down to help her scramble up seemed to take an eternity, but Adela did find herself on solid ground once more. Hoedan had released her arm soon as the others had a good grip, and when she was steady on her feet, he was the first place her gaze went.

He was sitting curled forward protectively, jaw clearly set tight as Pallegina felt at his shoulder. She paused in her examination and turned toward Adela.

“Are you alright?” she all but demanded.

Funny, that’s what I was about to ask him. Adela nodded, letting out a shaky breath. “Really, really rattled, maybe a few bruises” --she rubbed her wrist--”but otherwise fine.”

“Sorry,” Heodan managed, gaze fixed on her hands.

Adela snorted. “That’s a new one; never had anyone apologize for saving my life before.”

“No-” He tried to sit straighter, uncurl the arm held close to his chest, and stopped with a sharp breath. “I-If I hurt you...”

“I’ll live,” Adela chuckled wryly. “Literally thanks to you. Bruises are nothing, small price to pay. I’m more worried about you.” She started to rest a hand on his arm, but yanked it back when the barest touch made him flinch. “Sorry, sorry. I’ll get out of the way.” She backed up a step, glancing toward where Kana and Aloth had resumed clearing off the door. Maybe I should help them...

Pallegina muttered a frustrated comment in her mother tongue, then, “I think it’s dislocated. Fortunately, that is not hard to fix. Edér?”

“Yeah?” He pushed away from the rocks he’d been leaning against.

“I will need your help.”

“Sure.”

Adela ears twitched and she started to move further away, feeling more like a hindrance than a help.

“Adi.” Heodan caught her arm with his good hand. “I’m glad you’re alright.”

“Wish I could say the same,” she replied softly, flicking a glance to his shoulder.

“It’s not that bad. I’ll be fine,” He flashed a crooked smile. “And it was worth it, anyway.”

“Aw, ain’t that sweet,” Edér drawled, shooting them both a knowing smile before she had a chance to reply.

“That’s not what he meant!” Adela said hastily, fur ruffling. How hot was she blushing? Obviously Heodan hadn’t meant it... the way Edér was implying. No matter how badly she might want it, that wasn’t the case. Was it? No, Adi, don’t get your hopes up, we’ve talked about this. “It’s just ‘cause we’re friends.”

(But if that was the case, why were Heodan’s ears red? And where’d that flush creeping up his neck come from? Probably just embarrassment, right? Like hers.)

Edér just grinned. “Sure, friendship’s sweet. Whadidja think I meant?”

Adela rolled her eyes. “I’m going to go help Kana.” She didn’t want to watch what was about to happen, anyway. It would just make her feel guilty for something that wasn’t truly her fault.

Between the three of them, she, Kana, and Aloth(mostly Kana) had a good portion of the door clear by the time Edér and Pallegina finished fixing Heodan’s shoulder(and even if she wasn’t watching, that hadn’t been fun to listen to, either). With the overgrowth cleared and any decorative carvings recorded, the... less physically gifted members of the group got to hand Edér a prybar and let him and Kana try to work the door open.

Adela perched on a rocky outcropping near where Heodan sat as they waited, watching him flex and test the previously injured arm. “Everything alright?”

He nodded, rocking his wrist back and forth. “Relatively. It’s still sore, but that’s to be expected, isn’t it? I’m sure it’ll be fine.” He caught her skeptical expression and chuckled. “Really, Adi, it will.” He gave a lopsided smile. “And look on the bright side; it wasn’t because of your curiosity.”

“You still got hurt,” she shot back. “How is that a bright side?”

Heodan shrugged. “It’s not that bad. And you didn’t.” He raised a brow and nodded in her direction. “You did lose your flowers, though.”

“Oh.” Adela raised a hand to her hair. She hadn’t even noticed. But the crown of pink-purple blooms was indeed gone, vanished into the depths of the ravine when she fell. “Small price to pay.” She pulled her braid over her shoulder, grinned when she saw the small bouquet still securely tied at the end. “And I still have these. Heodan...” She rested a hand on his arm. “I’m sorry you got hurt.”

He smiled shyly. “Small price to pay. You’re my friend, and I’d hate to lose you.”

Her heart fluttered. Stop that, Adela scolded herself. He literally just said friend. But hearts were funny things, and hers didn’t much feel like listening right now. “So...” she began, resting her chin on her palm and glancing toward the doors that were just beginning to edge open under Edér and Kana’s efforts. ”What do you think is in there? Aside from, probably, another one of those machines the Leaden Key’s using to make life difficult.”

Heodan laughed. “I couldn’t even begin to guess. But we’ll see soon enough, won’t we?”

Adela cocked her head. “I will. But don’t you think it’s better you... stay out here?” So you don’t get hurt again...

“Adi.” He shot her a curious look. “Isn’t the point of me... following along on these adventures to help you? Can’t do that very well if you’re in there and I’m out here, can I?”

“Heodan, much as my area of expertise is not medicine, even I know you’re supposed to rest as part of the healing process for dislocated limbs.” She pushed to her feet, making them roughly eye level, and crossed her arms as she tried to stare him down.

“It was only partially dislocated,” Heodan countered(he was nice enough to stay sitting). “It went right back in joint with a little nudge, and it’s just sore now.” As if to demonstrate, he reached out with that hand and playfully flicked at her bangs.

Adela felt a smile coming despite the worry that gnawed her mind, but bit it back. “Yes, and it might not stay ‘just sore’ if you make it worse by stabbing things.” 

“A compromise, then,” he offered, glancing toward the rest of their party as the doors opened. “I will keep the... ‘stabbing things’ to a minimum and focus more on disarming traps and such that we find. How’s that?  We’re not splitting the group, I’ll be there if you need me, but be doing lighter work and try my best to stay out of fights so I don’t overwork that arm.”

She bit her lip as he looked at her expectantly. She did want him along, she just didn’t want him getting hurt again. Of course, it wasn’t necessarily that much safer out here, with the Glanfathans guarding the main door just barely out of earshot. “I.... guess that would be alright. And I’ll try not to let my curiosity run away with me in there.”

“A tall order,” Heodan said with a smile, pushing to his feet and pulling his pack back on--with just the tiniest wince as the strap went over his injured shoulder.  “Sure you can manage?”

“Not at all,” she laughed, “hence the try.”

All jokes aside, she mused as Edér and Kana hauled the doors open wide enough for passage, We really will need to be careful in there. There’s probably a lot of nasty surprises to be found, if I know anything about the Engwithans. And I’d hate for any of them to get hurt because I just had to look at a fresco or invention or something. ....Especially him.

 Reining in her curiosity was a small price to pay for her friends’ safety. And as she accepted the lit torch Edér offered her and led the way into the ruin, Adela decided it was one she was happy to pay.

[heyyyharry]

Last Chapter

(from the Flatmate!Harry Series)

…in which Harry and Y/N say goodbye to their flat.

Who’s ready for a continuation series and a Christmas special? (There are spoilers in this chapters, but are they really spoilers if you don’t know they’re spoilers? ;) )

Warning: a bit of smut, a bit of angst, a bunch of fluff.

.

“Do you want to keep these?” 

Y/N holds up a box of old books she found in Harry’s closet and tries not to kick over the carton boxes, or step on random objects lying on the bedroom floor, as she brings it to him. 

He picks up one book, checks the front cover, and the back, then puts it back inside the box.

“They can go,” he says.

“I know an old bookstore that may want to rebuy them,” she tells him, setting the box down and dusting off her hands. “Do you think we’re keeping too many stuff?” 

“Well, you’re the one who wouldn’t let me throw away most of them, including those Christmas decorations from last year.”

“Christmas isn’t a one time thing, H! We can reuse them!”

“You might as well just pack the whole flat with you to our new one.”

Y/N rolls her eyes and sits down on the floor, sighing as she does. Harry’s right, she should probably get rid of what they haven’t touched in over a year. It’s impossible to bring everything to their new place, but she’s trying to keep as many as possible. Throwing something in this flat away makes her heart sting, because everything here holds a memory of her and Harry and she’s not ready to let go just yet, even though they’re moving out tomorrow.

“I can’t believe this is really happening,” Y/N mumbles when she pulls out a box from under Harry’s bed and opens it. Harry soon joins her on the floor and helps her unbox another one.

“Love, you said the exact same thing last week at our graduation,” he tells her, chuckling a little bit at her facial expression.

“It’s not me! Everything is just moving too fast!” She replies with a sigh. 

It feels as if they’d only met yesterday, and their time in university had already passed in just a blink of an eye. Harry may not care a lot about leaving this place, in fact he seems like he’s actually happy now that they’re moving into a bigger flat. Y/N, on the other hand, struggles to let go of the past and begins anew.

“What?” Y/N questions when she catches Harry smirking at her.

“Just thinking about our new life together, s’all.” His answer makes her smile, but then he furrows his eyebrows and pulls a very serious face which gets her confused for a second. “You know, it’s still not too late for you to back out.”

“Love, you said the exact same thing when we first met!” Her almost accurate imitation of his voice cracks him up.

“That impression was spot on,” he admits. “I’ll give you that.”

Y/N responses to Harry with a proud smile on her face, then she resumes checking what’s inside the box between her legs. This one is full of her boyfriend’s old clothes, most of these Harry hasn’t touched in years. She goes through it real quick, then a piece of clothing really catches her eyes. She excitedly pulls out a red sweater with a huge Santa Claus head printed on the front and the words ‘Merry Christmas’ on the back. It’s pretty extra, she must admit, but that was why she bought it in the first place. 

“I got you this on our first Christmas here!” She shows it to him with a wide smile on her face whereas he groans and covers his with both hands. 

“Oh God, that sweater!”

“What? It’s cute! How come I’ve never seen you wear it again?”

“It’s way too…much, Y/N!”

Y/N puckers up her forehead and shoves the sweater back inside the box, pouting as she tells him, “fine! If you hate my Christmas gift so much I’ll throw it away then!”

Hearing her say that and seeing her facial expression amuses Harry, he thinks she looks cute when she’s pretending to be mad. So before she can close the box, he pulls it away from her and takes out the sweater himself. Without saying a word, Harry puts it on, smiling as he does a ridiculous pose in the awfully uncomfortable sweater. 

Y/N cannot keep a straight face anymore. She tosses her head back and laughs, then finally agrees that he does look silly in it.

The two continues going through the rest of Harry’s closet. They need to get the work in here done so as to move to Y/N’s room, and take care of the mess over there. 

While Y/N is folding the old t-shirts that don’t fit Harry anymore and putting them in another box, which she’s labeled “giveaway”, Harry cannot take his eyes off her. He likes to watch his girlfriend when she’s not looking, to secretly admire how adorable she is every time she does something unintentionally. Like the way she purses her lips, the way she scrunches her nose, how she furrows her eyebrows, the smile on her face when she thinks he’s not paying attention. 

He just loves watching her do things, that’s all.

“Let’s go out tonight and celebrate us moving out!” He suddenly breaks the comfortable silence between the two of them, causing Y/N to look up from the shirt in her hands.

“Ugh…I wish I could.”

“You’ve got other plans for tonight?” He asks, sounding a bit disappointed because he thought they’d get to spend their last night in this flat together.

“My boss asked me to go see a client with him. I couldn’t say no, I’ve only been working there for a week now, gotta stay relevant, right?” she tells him, giggling a little bit to lighten up the mood, but Harry only replies with a simple nod. 

He seems really let down and she can’t blame him for that. So Y/N gets up on all fours then crawls to Harry’s side, hugging him tightly and laying her head on his shoulder.

“How about tomorrow night?” She suggests, glancing up to watch his reaction. “If we cannot celebrate us moving out, we can celebrate us moving in.”

“Okay,” he finally says and turns his head to face her. 

“Not mad at me anymore?” she questions.

“You’re lucky you’re cute.” He exhales a smile before leaning in and pecking her lips. How can he ever get mad at her to begin with?

…

Harry rises up from his bed, the naked brunette lying beside him begs him to stay, but he just gives her a quick kiss, and promises to make it up to her once he returns. 

It’s around 2AM now, or so, he doesn’t really pay attention when he glances at the clock on the kitchen wall. He only intends to get a glass of water and heads back for another round with that pretty girl. He doesn’t expect his flatmate Y/N to still be awake at this hour, because why would she?

“Hey.”

The voice catches Harry by surprise. He looks up, a bit taken aback to see Y/N walk through the kitchen door. She stops in front of him with her hands laying flat on the kitchen table. He assumes the noises from his bedroom earlier woke her up, but she looks too happy for someone whose sleep was interrupted. 

“When did you get back?” She asks.

“An hour ago,” he replies shortly. It takes her a moment, but somehow she figures it out on her own.

“Is there someone in your room?” The question comes with a nervous laugh. Harry has no idea how she knows it, but he’s not going to lie to her now.

“Yeah.” He admits without hesitation, but then instantly regrets it once he sees her smile fade away.

He’s never cared about what she thinks about his complicated “relationships”, why does he care now? Why does he feel guilty for telling her this? Why does she look so sad? Does she care who he’s with? Those questions are spinning around Harry’s head as he waits for her to say something else. However…

“Oh…,” is her only reply.

Harry puts the glass of water down and stares at her with his eyebrows furrowed. “I’m sorry if we woke you up, promise we won’t be too loud later.”

He honestly doesn’t know why he said that. Maybe he’s just trying to prove that he doesn’t care about how she feels (if she does feel anything about this), but the problem is, he does care about how she feels. He is worried and wants to know why she’s up so late, and whether she’s been waiting for him to come home or not. His pride doesn’t allow him to ask her.

“Okay, that’s good. I’m going back to bed now,” she tells him.

“See you in the morning,” he says when she turns away, However, she doesn’t respond, and Harry feels bad, really bad.

He walks back to his room and the naked brunette sits up as soon as she sees him. He feels her chest pressed against his back when he takes a seat on the edge of the bed. Her hot lips leave wet kisses from behind his ear down to his shoulder blade while she’s moaning his name and telling him how much she wants him. He, however, does not, not even a little bit, not at all.

“I heard you talking to your flatmate,” says the girl as she runs her palms up and down his bare chest. “Did she complain about us waking her up?”

“I think she stayed up to wait for me to come home.”

“Poor girl. I think she’s got a crush on you.”

“No.” Harry chuckles slightly, shaking his head. “She just worries a lot, which makes me feel guilty, because if it was her coming home late, I don’t think I would do the same.”

“Well, I still think she likes you.” The girl puts a finger to Harry’s cheek and turns his face to hers, then leans in to kiss him. “Can’t blame her, you’re irresistible.”

Harry furrows his eyebrows at the girl for two seconds. She tries to read his mind, he can tell, but before she can figure out what he actually wants, Harry removes her hand from his face. Without warning, he pushes her down on the bed so he can get on top, and starts kissing his way down from her lips. 

This seems to her that he wants her just as much as she does him, whereas to him, this is nothing more than just goodbye sex. This girl obviously has feelings for Harry, and the last thing he needs right now is to deal with collateral damage. 

…

Y/N carefully opens the fridge so as to not make a sound and wake up her boyfriend, whom she assumes must be asleep. She only just got home after a long night out, so after this glass of water, she’s heading straight to bed for sure. Tomorrow is their moving out day, which is really important. She won’t be able to get anything done if she wakes up at noon!

“When did you get back?” 

The voice catches Y/N by surprise. She looks up, a bit taken aback to see Harry standing at the kitchen door, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“A while ago. Did I wake you?”

“No.” He shakes his head and walks over to hug her waist from behind. He loves holding her like this, and he knows she loves being held this way as well. 

Harry shuts his eyes and buries his face into the crook of her neck, inhaling her scent deeply, as if he hadn’t seen her in a really long time though it’s only been a couple hours. 

“I couldn’t sleep. I missed you,” he whispers against her skin, causing his girlfriend’s head to fall back and her eyes shut tightly. She mumbles her apology for coming home late, and brings her right hand up behind her to stroke his hair.

“Need to feel you…” He sounds almost desperate, running his hands from her stomach up to her breasts, kneading them, while breathing heavily into her bare shoulder. It’d be a lie if Y/N said she wanted to turn him down and head to bed instead. Though they do have a lot of work to do tomorrow, she needs him just as much.

She arches her back and moaning his name. Harry’s completely lost his mind. He grabs his girl by the hips then spins her around, and effortlessly lifts her up to sit on the edge of the table, so he’s now standing between her spread legs. Harry thanks God that she’s wearing a dress because he’s got no patience left to take time removing her pants.

Y/N’s breath gets stuck in her throat when she feels his fingers pushing through her hot entrance. She’s already soaked and Harry loses self-control for the feeling of her squeezing around his digits. He attaches their lips, moaning into the kiss as he starts pumping his fingers, starting slow then gradually building up the pace. Y/N has her hands secured behind his neck while she’s gasping for air, but never breaks eye-contact. Watching her watching him drives Harry insane. 

“Harry, I need—“

“I know baby…I know…” He breathes into her mouth and withdraws his fingers, causing Y/N to groan at the loss. In a split second, he somehow manages to push his pants down and suddenly enters her with a sharp thrust of his hips. The burn makes Y/N’s eyes roll back whereas Harry nearly explodes for how tight she feels squeezing around him. So they stay still for a couple seconds to get themselves adjusted, meanwhile they can’t keep their mouths away from each other.

“Want me to go slow?” He whispers against her lips, to which she answers by shaking her head quickly.

“No…fast…let me have you…” 

“You already do...” He chuckles and starts bucking his hips into hers, the words “I love you” start pouring out non-stop from his lips as if he hadn’t told her enough already. But he still needs her to know. If he could, he would remind her every second of the day that he loves her. He loves her to the point it physically hurts thinking about her walking away from him. He would do anything for her.

It doesn’t take too long until both of them start chasing after their own orgasms together. Y/N is left seeing stars. She clings onto Harry as they ride through their the peak of their pleasure and it has to take her a moment to gain back her sight. Everything’s been blurry from the moment she felt them both getting so close. 

When Y/N opens her eyes again, she almost freaks out seeing his tear-filled eyes staring back at her. 

“Baby, are you alright?”

“I’m okay,” Harry tells her between soft chuckles as he feels himself slipping out, already making a mess on her thighs and her dress. “Can’t believe I’d be the one to cry after sex.”

His comment makes Y/N laugh as she leans in to kiss his lips again, at the same time wiping the tears from the corners of his eyes. 

“Is everything alright?” She murmurs and the sound of her voice calms him down again. 

“I just love you so much…” He admits. His eyes fall to the side. “I had a nightmare before you got home.”

“Yeah? What was it about?”

“You were leaving me. You said we didn’t spend enough time together and there was nothing I could do to fix us.” Harry puckers up his forehead as he recalls the unpleasant feelings after waking up from that bad dream. “I know I’ve told you that I couldn’t wait to start our new life...but in reality I’m also very scared..."

“You are?”

“I mean...We’re not students anymore…You’ve got your new job and I’m already so busy with mine. We won’t spend as much time with each other anymore…What if everything changes when we move into our new place? I don’t want you to leave.”

“H, look at me,” Y/N speaks softly and Harry looks at her as he’s told. 

She gives him a reassuring smile then starts stroking his cheeks with her thumbs. It turns out it’s not just her, them moving out affects him as well.

“We’ve been through so much together. We were in different countries for three months and we’re still here, aren’t we? Do you really think we’re going to break up because we’re busy people now?”

Though Harry says nothing, but he’s beaming again. That’s all she needs to see right now.

“This is not the last chapter. We’re gonna be so happy when we move into our new flat. Nothing has to change.” She rolls her eyes, laughing softly. “You’re still the only man that I love, and we’re still us.”

Harry holds her hands on his cheeks then nods once. “You’re gonna love me no matter what?”

“Hey, I’ve loved you since you were an oblivious asshole. How hard can it be to love you now?”

“Okay, you’ve got a good point.”

She smiles at her boyfriend and pulls him into a hug, feeling his arms tightened around her waist. Maybe now, she is finally ready to say her goodbye to this place to begin anew. This is her home, yes, but home is not a place, it’s a person. So as long as she has him, she knows they’re gonna be just fine.

…

“Where do you think you’re going?!” 

Y/N quickly walks in front of Harry and stands between him and the door to prevent him from carrying his boxes into this room behind her. 

“Bringing my stuff to my room?” He barely looks at her, and she’s had enough with his arrogant attitude. If they’re going to spend the rest of their university years under the same roof, she’s not going to let him act all superior and treat her terribly.

“Your room?! We haven’t discussed who’s getting this room yet!” 

“Let me make this simpler for us and say this is my room.” He smiles and takes a step to the left so as to get through her, yet she’s quick to block his path with her arms opened wide.

“This is not your room!” She asserts. “I walked in there first!”

She doesn’t actually need this room, she can just take the other one and spare herself an argument. It’s not about this one being bigger than the other, it’s about winning, and she cannot stand him thinking he can just get everything that he wants.

“Come on, the other one has its own bathroom inside!” Harry fights back, not letting this go easily. “You’ll get all the privacy you need, you can just live in there if you want to!” 

“I don’t want to! I want this room!”

“Are you sure? Because if you forget to bring your clothes to the shower, you’re gonna have to walk out naked and I’m gonna see more than I anticipate.”

“Be my guest.” She lifts her jaw and puts both hands on her hips. “There’s nothing much to see anyway.”

Harry raises an eyebrow and sends his flatmate a cheeky smirk as he replies, “I’m gonna need proof to believe that.”

“You’re just sick!” She rolls her eyes in reaction to his words then crosses her arms firmly. “Rock, paper, scissors?”

“Seriously, are you twelve?”

“Well, got any better suggestion? It’s the only way we can solve this problem,” she tells him with a straight face. Harry sighs, still he assumes she’s got a point. As stubborn as she is, he’s sure she won’t let this go easily. He doesn’t actually want the bigger room that much, he just doesn’t want her to get it. And he has to make sure she won’t.

“Fine. ‘Rock, paper, scissors’ as you wish.” He nods with confidence, like somehow he knows he’s going to win.

And…

He wins.

“My scissors cut the shit out of your paper.” He chuckles at the look on her face as she cannot believe she’s been defeated. “Now can you move so I can bring my stuff into my room?”

“Fine! Take the room!” She says bitterly when he walks past her with a smug on his face. “I hope you sleep well at night knowing you’re an asshole that will probably end up alone for the rest of his life for being such an asshole.”

Harry opens the door, stops and turns around to look at the girl in amusement. “Look who’s talking. I’m sure by the time you receive my wedding invitation you’re still living alone with a cat.”

She snorts, eyes widened at him. “Well, whoever ends up marrying you is an idiot.”

“Okay you know what? You just got yourself uninvited to my wedding…if it ever happens.” He gives her a shrug and closes the door between them when he enters his new room. 

Y/N clenches her fists and takes a deep breath. The little voice inside her head tells her to calm down. First day moving in and she already wants to leave, but from now until graduation, she’s gonna have to see his stupid face every single day.

…

Y/N lifts the weight off her feet and falls down on their newly made bed, sighing contently for how comfy it feels. She loves it. She loves their new bedroom, she loves their new flat. 

“I’ll be late for work everyday just to stay in this incredibly soft bed, but it’ll all be worth it!” Y/N laughs, closing her eyes as she feels herself sinking into the warm bed covers. 

Harry, who’s been watching his girl with a grin this whole time, finally decides to get in with her. He falls down by her side, on his back and reaches out to hold her hand. 

“We’ve made it,” she whispers and lies on her side to run her fingers through his hair. “I’m so proud of us.”

“As excited as I am to start our new life here,” replies Harry. “I can’t wait to fuck you on our new bed.”

Y/N giggles and opens her mouth to say something, but all of a sudden, she’s interrupted by the female voice at their bedroom door.

“Yes please, we’d love a free show.”

The couple shoot their heads to the entrance and quickly sit up when they see Niall and Layla staring at them.

“While you horny teenagers were shamelessly planning on having sex in here, my boyfriend and I were cleaning your kitchen.”

“Sorry, L. I’m coming!” Y/N laughs as she stands up from the bed and follows Layla out of the room, leaving Niall behind with Harry. Both of them exchange smiles now that the girls are gone.

“So,” Niall begins, and judging from the look on his face, Harry can already tell what he’s going to ask next. “When are you gonna give it to her?”

“Not sure yet,” answers Harry as he rises from the bed. “I’m still waiting for the right moment.”

“And when is that?”

“Maybe not right after we’ve just moved into our new place?” Harry laughs, and so does Niall. “I’ll wait until she’s settled with her new job. If I’m gonna do this, I need time to do this right.”

“Well, I’m very proud of you, H.”

“I’m not.” 

The two men almost scream when they hear Layla’s voice. Niall quickly turn around and receive a death glare from his angry girlfriend. Harry’s heart stops for a second thinking she’s heard more than she should have.

“You’re not what?” Niall swallows nervously, causing Layla to roll her eyes upward.

“I’m not proud of either of you! You’re gonna let Y/N and I clean the entire kitchen?”

“Oh, no, god no!” Harry cries out, however, he feels very relieved. “Niall, you go first, I need to pee.”

“Well pee fast!” Layla tells him then storms away, Niall quickly follows so as not to make her angrier.  

When they’re finally out of sight, Harry shoves his hand into his trousers pocket and pulls out a small box which he’s been keeping a secret from Y/N for a week now. He puts it away in the bottom drawer in their closet, at the very back, underneath his newly folded clothes, where he’s sure she will never find. 

He needs to hide it from her, just for now, until they’re both ready.

...

It’s one of those nights when Harry comes home really late (or early because it was nearly two in the morning). Y/N wakes up to the sound of him banging on the front door and calling out her name. By the tone of his voice, she knows he is very wasted, but to be honest, this is nothing. The worst time was when he refused to believe she was his flatmate and kept asking her to leave or else he’d call the police. At least this time he still remembers her name.

“Do you know what time it is?!” She stands in front of the door and grumbles to him instead of letting him in like she did the last few times.

“Y/N, open the door…”

“Where’s your key?” She inquires. Of course she wants to just open the door for him so she can head back to bed, yet if she keeps letting him get away with this, he won’t ever learn.

“I lost it,” he admits. Drunk Harry is very honest.

“It’s your third key Harry!”

“I think…” Harry stresses out the final sound then takes a really long pause, probably struggling to put the words into a sentence. “…I think…it fell out…when I was with…this girl…”

Of course. She should’ve known.

Y/N furrows her eyebrows then rests her forehead against the door, squeezing her eyes shut. There’s always “this girl”. Having known him for so long, she shouldn’t still feel disappointed. The problem is not him, he’s still the same him. It’s her who’s changed. 

She likes him.

So if it’s anyone’s fault, it’s hers, for liking him even though she knows too well she won’t ever be “this girl” in his stories. However, right now she feels like he’s the one to blame.

“You may want to call that girl of yours, because I’m not letting you in tonight,” Y/N finally speaks with a lump in her throat, because she doesn’t mean a single word she just said to him. “Go crash at her place or just sleep outside, I don’t care.”

“Y/N, please…” He knocks on the door three times rapidly. “My tummy hurts, my head hurts.”

“You should’ve thought about that before deciding to come back at two in the morning and ruin my sleep!” Y/N firmly declares, though she knows this has nothing to do with him ruining her sleep. Had he not say he wouldn’t come back tonight, she would’ve stayed up waiting for him anyway. It’s just her being mad at him for hurting her feelings, even if it’s unintentionally.

She goes ahead and ignores Harry’s constant apologies and pleading to return to her bedroom, too angry to feel sorry for him…for now at least. 

It’s not until she’s climbed back into bed, buries herself under the warm covers, and drowns in the sound of utter silence, does she start to feel guilty for what she’s done. Y/N cannot fall back into sleep. She begins to think about how it’s cold outside and her flatmate is left in the hallway without these soft and comfy bed covers to keep him warm. 

Harry has stopped knocking or calling her name. He did say his head and tummy were hurting, and he’s also drunk. After spending the night outside he’ll be sick for sure. Y/N bites her lip as she puckers up her forehead. She doesn’t want Harry to be sick! It’s not fair that she’s making him pay for the crime he doesn’t even knows he committed…

That final thought sends Y/N out of bed. She quickly heads out to open the door and she hopes he hasn’t left yet.

He’s still in the hallway. Thank God! Y/N thinks to herself as she releases a sigh of relief and warches towards her flatmate who’s standing in front of the lift, just staring at the closed door.

“Harry, what are you doing?”

“Waiting for the door to open,” he grumbles in annoyance. His eyes are squinty and his brows are knitted together. She can’t help but giggle at how funny he looks. “Why’s it taking soooo long?!”

“Harry you haven’t pressed the button.”

“Ohhhhhh, thanks,” he replies then reaches out to press it but she takes his hand immediately.

“Come on, let’s go inside.” She tries to lead him back to their flat but he stands still and refuses to come along.

“I’m not going! You told me to leave!” He pouts and withdraws his hand from hers, crossing his arms in front of his chest like an angry little boy.

“Whose fault was that?”

“You! You were…very mean, Y/N…” he says drunkenly. Right now, Y/N is trying her best not laugh her butt off. She can just make fun of him in the morning, now she needs to get him inside before one of their neighbors start complaining.

“We’re not doing this right now. Come with me!” She doesn’t need his approval to grab his wrist and pulls him with her back to their flat. He starts talking nonsense again and she’s too exhausted to ask him what he means. When they’ve finally got into their flat, she locks the door and turns to see Harry still standing there staring at her.

“What?” She asks, unable to interpret the look on his face.

“Y/N don’t be mad at me,” he says while fighting to keep his tired eyes open. “I…didn’t…didn’t mean to lose the key…”

“Okay, you’re forgiven. Go to bed.” She holds his elbow to spin him around, pushing him to his bedroom. He walks with her a few steps then quickly stops and turns to face her again.

“What now?”

“I was sad when you locked me out.”

She swallows hard. The look on his face makes her heart stop for a second. 

“You…You also made me sad…” she blurts out before she can stop herself. It freaks her out a little bit, but all he does is furrow his eyebrows at her. Y/N quickly realizes he’s probably too drunk to even remember this tomorrow morning. He doesn’t bother to ask her to explain what she just told him, he wasn’t sober enough to get it.

“Well…I’m happy now that you’re here!” He gives her a silly smile and intends to pull her in for a hug but he trips and nearly fall onto the floor. Lucky for him, she’s there to catch him just in time.

“Okay, bed now.” She rolls her eyes, one arm around his waist while his around her shoulders. She walks him to his room as he starts singing really off-tune. Harry keeps forgetting the words, so he just goes la-la-la for the rest of the song. 

Y/N watches Harry fall onto his bed with a satisfied smile on his face, sighing to herself now that she’s finally free to go.

“Can you stroke my hair?” He asks, his eyes are still closed.

Y/N stands by the side of his bed and crosses her arms as she raises an eyebrow at him. “No.”

“Pleeeeeeease?”

“No, you’re lucky I didn’t let you sleep on the floor.”

“Fineeeeeeeeee!” He whines then turns to the side, facing his back to her. 

Y/N doesn’t leave just yet, she stays for a little while, just standing there watching him falling asleep.

“If it was me who came home drunk, would you take care of me too?” She quietly inquires, not him, but herself. Of course there’s no answer, because she doesn’t know if there’s even a place for her in his heart.

...

“Harry! Your eyes are so greeeeeeeen! You’re the most beautiful person in the whole wide world!” Y/N sings at the top of her lungs which makes Harry laugh though they receive a few judging stares from the people they pass by on the street.

“Did you just make up a song for me baby?” He asks, tightening his grip on her waist so as to keep her from tumbling down on her wobbling feet. She’s a fun drunk he’s gotta admit.

“I’ll write you a song one day!” Y/N declares to the world as she raises one finger in the air. “I’ll write you a song about how much I loveeeeee you! I love you so much!”

“Alright, alright, I’m very flattered,” he tells her and sighs in relief when they finally arrive at their building. 

When the young couple enter the lobby, their middle-aged doorman is in the middle of the conversation with an old lady, who’s also living in this building apparently.

“Albert, I’m serious! I saw Felicia bring home a new dog - the fifth one this month!” Says the woman. “She’s gonna get into so much trouble if her landlord finds out!” 

“Give the poor woman a break, would you?” Replies Albert. “The only reason she owns so many dogs is to fill up her loneliness when her husband left her for a young girl. I’m telling you, Greta, everyone in this building has their own story.”

“Good evening!” Y/N happily shouts, causing the doorman and the old woman to both stare at her and Harry. They seem quite confused, but amused at the same time.

“Your wife drank a bit too much I see,” says Greta to Harry, who slightly shakes his head.

“My girlfriend.”

“Oh, my apologies, I saw the ring so I thought you two were married.”

Harry doesn’t make further comments about the promise ring on Y/N’s finger or the possibility of there soon to be a new one. He simply smiles and says he’s very sorry for how loud Y/N is.

“Harry,” Y/N finally speaks up with her eyes still closed. “Take off my clothes. They’re itchy.”

Her request makes Albert and Greta laugh. Harry, on the other hand, has to grab her hand before she can unbutton her own shirt and flash the two strangers here.

“Not here, baby. Keep your clothes on,” he whispers, making her pout, but she listens to him and drops her hands back to her sides. 

“Good girl,” he softly says to her before turning back to give the door man and the woman an apologetic smile. “I should get her back to our flat now.”

“Wait,” Albert stops them before they can turn away. “Are you two the couple in flat 102?”

“Yeah, that’s us.”

“These are for you.” 

The man gives Harry two spare keys for the flat and Harry assumes it’s a mistake, because they’ve received their spare keys already. Before he gets a chance to speak, however, Albert quickly adds in, “your girlfriend paid for two extras because she said you tend to lose your keys a lot.”

Harry rolls his eyes as he looks at his girlfriend, who somehow has fallen asleep with her head on his shoulder, and probably won’t have any memory of this conversation when she wakes up.

“You know me too well, don’t you?” He tells her before taking the keys and thanking the doorman one more time before leaving. “Have a great evening, sir, ma’am.”

“You and your girl too, young man!” Greta shouts out and waves at the young couple as they walk away towards the lift. After that she immediately turns to her old friend Albert. “I like those two kids. What do you think their story is?”

“Well...” Albert lets out a happy sigh as he watches Harry taking Y/N into the lift and kissing her hair “...I hope we’ll get to find out.”

[ineffably-good]

I Will Follow You Into The Dark (9/10) (GO Fics)

Go read the whole thing on AO3 - it’s done!

Summary: In which Crowley returns triumphant, Freddy gets his I-told-you-so moment, and an archangel has a task to perform.

Anathema leapt to her feet with a look of sheer relief when Crowley appeared in the bedroom door upon returning from Heaven.

“His fever broke,” she announced. “Just a little bit ago. He’s not awake yet, but he’s improving.” She noticed Michael standing behind him and got a strange look on her face. “Oh, hello. I didn’t see you there.”

Michael nodded solemnly. “Do you know who I am?”

“No,” Anathema said carefully. “But I can tell that you’re powerful.”

“Good,” Michael said, dismissively. “We need to see the angel. Step aside.”

Sorry, Crowley mouthed at her, rolling his eyes.

The two of them approached the bed. Crowley sat gingerly on the edge of the mattress and laid a hand on Aziraphale’s cheek. It was true, the heat from his fever was gone, and his skin was returning to its usual flush rather than the sickly gray it had been. He was breathing evenly and not appearing in any type of real distress.

Crowley hadn’t fully believed it until he saw it, no matter what he had been told. He sagged in relief.

“Step aside, demon,” Michael said, officiously but not unkindly. “I will administer it.”

“Administer what?” Anathema asked from the side of the room, refusing to be cowed.

“Holy water,” Crowley said. “The holiest. Straight from the source.”

Michael took out a small vial and cradled Aziraphale’s head to her chest while she brought the bottle to his lips. She tipped it up and he swallowed it easily. She recapped it, then stood aside and let Crowley resume his position.

“Aziraphale,” he called softly, taking his hand. “Wake up for me. Come on.”

The room fell into a hush for a long beat, then another, then one more, and then finally – finally – Aziraphale’s eyes fluttered open.

“Hello, love,” he said quietly. “What’s going on?”

Crowley let out a strangled sob and pulled the angel to his chest. Michael and Anathema stepped back to give them space for a moment.

“Crowley,” Aziraphale said in a dramatic stage whisper. “WHY IS MICHAEL HERE?”

The demon laughed. “That is a very long story, my love. I will fill you in, I promise.”

Aziraphale looked him deeply in the eye, and ultimately finding nothing but love and trust, decided it wasn’t worth worrying over right now. He yawned and stretched.

“How long have I been sleeping?”

“Off and on for three or four days,” Crowley said. “Mostly on, the last 48 hours.”

Aziraphale laid a hand on Crowley’s cheek. “Oh my dear,” he said, “I can see how worried you’ve been. But I feel right as rain now! Peckish, maybe.” He looked around hopefully for a snack.

“Snacks can wait,” Crowley said. “There’s something I want you to do for me, first.”

Aziraphale smiled softly. “Anything, my dear. What is it?”

“Marry me,” Crowley said.

“I am, silly,” Aziraphale said, weakly pulling his hand with the engagement ring out from under the covers and wiggling it at the demon. “Remember?”

“No,” Crowley said. “I mean marry me right now. I don’t want to wait another minute. Michael can officiate, right Michael?”

Michael cleared her throat. “This is most irregular –” she began.

“I think we can agree it’s been a most irregular day,” Crowley said. “Will you do it?”

“Will you let me go home if I do?”

“Yes.”

Michael sighed. “Fine, then.”

Aziraphale’s eyes went back and forth between the two of them, watching this exchange without understanding most of it. “Crowley, what’s going on?” he asked again.

“Michael has been ordered to give us whatever help we need,” he said. “And what I need now is to be married to you, immediately.”

“But,” Aziraphale said, “August 13th… and Kew Gardens… and the cake…”

“I don’t give a flying you-know-what about any of that,” Crowley said. “I care about you and nothing else.”

“You can care about the cake a little, dear, I won’t mind,” Aziraphale chided, a smile beginning to bloom on his face.

Crowley grinned back. “So? Is that a yes?”

Aziraphale beamed. “Of course it is, my dear. You know I never cared about any of the trappings of it to begin with.”

The demon helped Aziraphale up into a sitting position at the edge of the bed and sat down next to him. Anathema and Newt volunteered to be witnesses, and a bemused-looking archangel made short work of walking them through an abbreviated wedding ceremony. There was no sermon. There was no reading.

What there was, in overwhelming quantities, was love.

“Do you, Crowley, take this angel Aziraphale to be your lawful wedded husband, to love and to cherish for as long as you both shall live?” Michael asked. “And let me remind you that, in your case, this is a very long time, so please be certain.”

Crowley smiled tremulously at Aziraphale, feeling almost overcome by the moment. “I do.”

“Do you, Aziraphale, take this demon Crowley to be your lawful wedded husband, to love and to cherish for as long as you both shall live? Same addendum.” Michael asked.

Aziraphale’s eyes were wet and he looked impossibly soft, yet completely sure of himself. “I do,” he replied.

“Do you have rings?” the archangel asked.

They looked at each other for a moment, not having thought of that detail yet, and then by unspoken agreement they each removed their engagement rings and exchanged them.

“Repeat after me.” Michael said to Crowley.

“No,” Crowley said, “I’ve got this part. Don’t need to repeat anything.”

He took Aziraphale’s hand and slid the smoky quartz ring back onto his finger, where it belonged. He looked up to find the angel staring at him with intense devotion, and the words just came.

“With this ring, I marry you and bind my life to yours. I give you this ring as a symbol of my eternal love, my everlasting friendship, and a promise of all our tomorrows.”

Aziraphale, hands shaking, reached for Crowley’s hand. He slid Crowley’s platinum ring back onto his fourth finger, then looked up, blue eyes intense.

“With this ring, I marry you and bind my life to yours. I give you this ring as a symbol of my eternal love, my everlasting friendship, and a promise of all our tomorrows.”

“By the power vested in me by, well, God herself,” Michael said, “I pronounce you husbands in the eyes of God and man, Heaven and Hell.”

“And now we get to kiss,” Crowley said, leaning in and planting a tender kiss on Aziraphale’s lips.

He heard Michael sigh and step backwards, washing her hands of this whole sordid affair. Only Anathema noticed a look of slight affection in her eyes, before she disappeared back to Heaven.

++

Shortly thereafter, Aziraphale shooed everyone but Crowley out. They took a moment just to sit, heads together, enjoying the glow of having found themselves married so suddenly.

“You have the best ideas, my dear,” Aziraphale said, nuzzling against his shoulder.

Crowley tipped the angel’s head up for a kiss. “I just had to,” he said softly. “Almost lost you, angel. Makes you realize what actually matters, you know?”

Aziraphale kissed back, his face glowing with happiness. “I do,” he said, enjoying the echo from a few minutes ago.

The angel decided he needed a quick shower to freshen up before joining their guests. Crowley hovered by nervously, all but handing him the soap each time he needed it, and wrapped him in a towel as soon as he came out.

“I’m fine, love,” the angel said to him. “Really. All my blood is back in place, my fever is gone. I feel a little weak, maybe, but I’m perfectly all right.”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” Crowley muttered, planting a kiss on the angel’s shoulder as he combed out his hair in the mirror.

“Husband,” Aziraphale said softly, catching his eye in the mirror.

Crowley swallowed, the feelings almost too big to process, before burying his face in the angel’s shoulder with a mumbled sound that was mostly consonants. He felt rather than heard the angel’s affectionate laughter.

++ 

They headed downstairs a few minutes later, where Anathema and Newt were waiting.

“Are you ever going to tell me about what you did today?” Anathema asked Crowley, while Newt and Aziraphale went off to the kitchen to see what kind of food was around.

“I will,” Crowley said. “But not until I can explain it all to Aziraphale first.”

Anathema nodded. “I understand. Looks like it must be a really good story, though,” she said.

Crowley looked at her, wondering what she could sense from looking at him. Had his aura changed? Did he look different? He hoped it wasn’t immediately apparent as he was hoping to ease the angel into the full knowledge of what he’d done.

“Don’t worry,” Anathema said, reading him a bit to easily for comfort. “Whatever it is, he’ll accept it.”

“You’re a little scary, sometimes, book girl,” Crowley said, one corner of his mouth turned up into a half a grin. “I’m not used to having friends. You know. Other than Aziraphale.”

She smiled. “Well now you have two. You better start getting used to it.”

++ 

“Look everyone, we found cake!” Aziraphale said, bringing out the tray from earlier in the week, which still contained several slices of cake samples which had miraculously stayed fresh as new over the events of the last few days.

Crowley counted and realized Aziraphale had augmented the leftover slices with at least a half dozen new specimens, and he thanked his lucky stars that Aziraphale had seen fit to do this himself, rather than hint around for Crowley to magic up some cake for them.

“Oh, I’m starving,” Anathema groaned. “I hadn’t realized!”

Crowley pulled chairs around the coffee table and ushered Anathema and Newt into good seats before going off to the kitchen to dig into the champagne reserves they always kept on hand. He came back out with four goblets and a bottle of old, expertly aged champagne.

“Let’s have a toast,” he said, popping the cork with practiced ease and pouring them each a glass. “To Aziraphale’s recovery.”

“And to your marriage,” Newt added. “May it be long and happy.”

Everyone raised their glasses and quickly set into their feast of cake and bubbles.

++

An hour later, after Newt and Anathema had hugged them both and offered their congratulations and accepted their thanks, Crowley and Aziraphale collapsed onto the couch in the office and officially took a breath.

Aziraphale leaned back tiredly. “It’s been quite a week, hasn’t it?”

Crowley sighed. “Definitely. Let’s not do this again anytime soon.”

“I am sorry, though,” Aziraphale said, “about the wedding. I know how much you were looking forward to all of it. And you’d been working so hard!”

Crowley waved a hand. “It’s nothing, Aziraphale, just bells and whistles.” He paused, struck by a thought. “Although…”

Aziraphale raised an eyebrow. “Yes?”

“Why don’t we just keep all the bookings? And instead of doing a wedding, we’ll just throw ourselves a big ‘hey we got married’ party? We can still do it at the gardens and keep the cake and the flowers and the food – we just won’t need a ceremony. We can dance.”

Aziraphale grinned. “That,” he said, “is an excellent idea! I love it.”

“Well I am a bit of a genius,” Crowley said.

Aziraphale eased himself up to his feet and picked up the crumb-covered tray to take back to the kitchen.

“What are you doing?” Crowley said. “You’re still recuperating. Sit down.”

Aziraphale raised an eyebrow. “I’m fine.”

“Don’t care,” Crowley said stubbornly. “Give it to me or I’m going to wrestle it out of your hands. And I’ll make some tea while I’m in there. The old-fashioned way.”

The angel gave up, not wanting to argue about anything so pointless right now.

Crowley took things to the kitchen and set about boiling water in the kettle and putting a simple tea tray together with all of their favorites. As an afterthought, he added an extra saucer and went out to pick up Frederick on his way back into the office.

Crowley crouched down next to Frederick’s cage, which was currently in the back room next to a heat lamp.

“Hi there,” he said, curious if he would still be able to hear the snake’s thoughts. “Can you say something to me, please?”

WHAT, DO YOU THINK I’VE FORGOTTEN HOW TO SPEAK, YOU RIDICULOUS POINTY IDIOT? Frederick shrieked.

Crowley broke into a grin. Thank whoever. Apparently his communication with the snake relied on Frederick’s psychic abilities and their shared DNA, and not his own powers.

HOW IS HE? the snake yelled.

Crowley blinked. “You mean Aziraphale?”

YES I MEAN AZIRAPHALE – ARE YOU JUST SLOW? HE’S SICK, RIGHT? I MEAN NO ONE HAS VISITED ME FOR DAYS AND DAYS!

“He’s better!” Crowley said. “I’ll take you to see him, all right?”

YOU LOOK DIFFERENT, Frederick added.

“Now you hush up about that,” Crowley admonished. “I’ll tell him, but not right now.”

FINE WHATEVER. I DON’T HAVE THE PANTOMINE SKILLS TO SPELL IT OUT FOR THE FLUFFY MORON ANYWAYS.

Crowley was too pleased to be offended.

 ++

“Frederick!” Aziraphale said with delight when Crowley reappeared. “I feel like I haven’t seen you in weeks!”

Frederick did his best not to break into the snake version of a smile – he had a reputation to uphold, after all. But he did accept being handled by his fluffy friend and coiled around his arm, sniffing carefully, and the slithered up to his neck where he scented again.

HE SMELLS BETTER NOW, Frederick hissed to Crowley.

“What? What do you mean?” Crowley said.

HE WAS SICK BEFORE. I TRIED TO TELL YOU, YOU BLOCKHEAD. SMELLED WRONG.

Crowley closed his eyes. Oh, for fuck’s sake. Did he ever listen to anyone? Freddy had known before he did that something was wrong with the angel, and when he tried to tell him, he just put him back in his cage like an idiot.

“What’s going on?” Aziraphale asked mildly.

“Freddy knew you were sick, the other day in the kitchen. He tried to tell me. I thought he was complaining about the smell of the pancakes when he was talking about the fact that you smelled wrong.”

“Oh!” Aziraphale said, running a finger down the snake’s scales in a way he knew Frederick liked. “Aren’t you a clever little snake,” he cooed. “Such a smart boy.”

Frederick flicked his tongue out at Crowley and looked almost unbearably smug.

“Dearest,” Aziraphale said quietly. “You are going to tell me about what happened when I was sick, aren’t you?”

Crowley swallowed and threaded their hands together and squeezed. “I am,” he said. “I promise. But please, can we just take a day or two to enjoy being married first?”

Aziraphale squeezed back and let it slide for now.

 ++

The next few days passed slowly and peacefully, with Aziraphale continuing to need a little extra rest but looking better and better with each day that passed. He had moved straight from illness into love-drunk mode, just radiating contentment on their new situation in every moment of the day. Crowley found himself the beneficiary of innumerable sudden hugs, passing touches, and lovely little niceties like being handed a glass of really excellent wine right as he was just beginning to realize he wanted one or finding a blanket being tucked around his lap just as he started to notice he was cold. There was nothing, he thought, in the world better than a happy angel.

Crowley, for his part, spent his time doting on his new husband as much as he could, often with a ridiculous smile on his face, and also beginning to take a barometer reading on his new situation when he was alone.

He was, as predicted, powerless. Oddly enough, though, he couldn’t say he really minded all that much. He was surprised to find himself without resentment about the change; he had chosen it freely, after all, and he couldn’t begin to make himself regret the trade. A few magic tricks for Aziraphale’s life. It would never not be worth it.

It was, however, surprising how often he found himself having to change his routines as a result. For one thing, he was now finding it almost impossible to get his usual black leather trousers on and off. He’d never had to put them on manually before, preferring to just snap his fingers and materialize them into (and out of) place. Trying to snug his feet through those tight legs and pull them up now, without powers, was next to impossible. How did humans do this? He suspected there must be some kind of device like a shoe horn, but devised for trousers, that fashionable men with slim-fit jeans were using and which he didn’t know anything about.

Mental note, he told himself, look up “trouser-horn” on the internet at the next opportunity.

He had also quickly noted that he now needed to charge his phone instead of just willing it to work perfectly forever. This required a quick trip to a local electronics shop to purchase a charger, as he’d long since thrown his own out. And the prospect of a quick trip to the shop required him to consider whether he actually knew how to drive his car without powers. In the end, he caught a cab instead, after apologizing to the Bentley and explaining the situation.

He started taking the Bentley out for very short trips while he re-learned how all the controls worked, manually. And instead of protecting it from parking violations, he took to simply plucking them off every morning before Aziraphale could see them and shoving them in a box in the back corner of the spare room. He would deal with those later.

It was inconvenient, and it was annoying, but it was worth it. But as the days passed he became very aware that he needed to get around to the conversation with Aziraphale, and soon.

++

Aziraphale, ever the clever one, beat him to the punch. He looked up at breakfast, on day four since the wedding, and cleared his throat meaningfully.

“My dear,” he said, “I think it’s time we had that talk you promised. I can see it’s eating at you.”

Crowley hid his initial reaction between a long swallow of his cappuccino, and quickly ran through his options for a response. More than anything, though, he knew the angel was right. They couldn’t put this off any longer.

“Finish your tea,” he said, “and I’ll tell you everything.”

Crowley did his best to run the angel through the entire past week, everything he did, everyone he spoke to. All that he missed. When he got to the encounter with God, he could feel Aziraphale’s intensity focused on him laser bright. He skipped over the message God had left for the angel for the moment, aware that in just a minute Aziraphale was going to be rather distracted.

He brought the story to a rapid close with the terms of his bargain with God and then… he just sat. Fidgeting and looking anywhere but at his husband.

“You did what?” Aziraphale said, deceptively calm. “I can’t have heard that right.”

“I’m not sorry,” Crowley said, belligerently.

“You gave away your powers? All of them?” the angel repeated, torn between fury and numbness. Oh good lord, the guilt was crushing. “ALL of them?”

“Angel,” Crowley said. “It was my choice. I chose it freely. I would do it again in the blink of an eye.”

The angel leapt to his feet, hands balled in fists.

“Why would you do such a foolish, ridiculous thing?” Aziraphale shouted. “There had to have been another way!”

“Because you were DYING,” Crowley shouted back, standing up to face him squarely. “And there WAS no other way. I tried everything. Anathema tried everything she knew too. There was no way I was going to let that happen if I could stop it.”

“But… to bargain your life away like that…” Aziraphale stopped, panting with emotion.

“My powers, angel, not my life,” Crowley said. “It’s inconvenient, but it’s nothing compared to losing you.”

“Crowley –” the angel breathed. “I don’t know whether to hug you or kill you.”

“Why not both?” Crowley quipped.

Aziraphale eyed him balefully. It was apparently too early for jokes.

“What are you left with?” he asked, uncurling his fists and relaxing a tad. “Do you still have wings?”

“Of course I still have wings. They’re part of my corporation and I’m still a demon.” Crowley concentrated and pulled them through. They look a little patchy, not quite as glossy black as usual, but they were there. Aziraphale nodded, satisfied, and he tucked them away. “I can still hear Freddy, which is nice – I was worried about that one, but apparently that’s based on his psychic powers and not mine.”

“Can you turn into a snake anymore?” Aziraphale asked quietly.

“No,” Crowley admitted. That one hurt. “But I’m immortal. We will still have millennia together, angel. It’s not so bad.”

Aziraphale’s eyes were shining with tears. “I’m so, so angry at you,” he said. “And I’m so sad for you. And I don’t know what to do about either of those things.”

Crowley nodded. “I know, angel.”  

Aziraphale’s mind was roiling. He was trying to not give into the terrible guilt he was feeling. Crowley, who loved nothing more than performing a miracle, gave up his gifts, for him, like they were just a meaningless trifle. It defied imagination.

“You’d have done the same for me,” Crowley said softly, stepping towards him. “You know you would have.”

“Oh of course I would have,” Aziraphale sighed. “I know that too. Wouldn’t have even had to think about it.”

“I don’t resent it, angel,” Crowley said, “and I won’t. Not ever. It’s just – an adjustment.”

Aziraphale looked into his demon’s eyes, searching for a hint of doubt, of turbulence, and saw none.

“I love you,” the angel said, grabbing the demon by the shoulders and giving him a gentle shake that rippled with underlying power. “So very much. And I’m going to find a way to fix this for you, I promise.”

“Okay, that would be great! I hope you do.” Crowley projected sincerity with every ounce of his being, looking into the angel’s eyes. “But if you don’t, we’ll figure it out, okay?”

Aziraphale pulled him in for a hug and tried to remember how to breathe.

[feel199x]

 boyfriend!chan

❣ summary: chan is working super hard for his next comeback, and he’s very clingy once he comes back. he’s also very adamant on being the best boyfriend you’ll ever have

❣ warnings: none,  i think!

❣ request: yes!

❣ a/n: i kinda,,, went overboard anon im sorry :( i hope u like it ʕ´• ᴥ•̥`ʔ  masterlist

Your boyfriend was super hard-working, and although you admired him for it, it was both his greatest personality aspect and his worst. Chan was an angel, he really was, but this comeback was absolutely tiring him out. He did his best to keep up with you and give you attention, but as the comeback approached, the messages got scarcer and scarcer. You weren’t upset with him because you knew that he was in an incredibly demanding field of work, and thus, couldn’t always give you his undivided attention. Chan still felt bad though and always spoiled you when he had free time. You scolded him every time, but he could never take you seriously with how flustered you always ended up. Chan was the kind of guy who went all out in everything he did, and this included gifts. For your year and half anniversary (was that even a thing people celebrated?) he had written you a song and given you a matching set of necklaces. Chris was just everything you could’ve asked for and more, he always listened and did his best to make the relationship run smoothly. Even when you had gotten insecure about dating him, thinking that he would fall for another idol or suddenly come to a realization that you weren’t good enough, he always reassured you. It had been nearly two years now, and coincidentally your anniversary was only a couple days after their first comeback stage.

You weren’t too worried about it, Chan always took this sort of thing very seriously. Even if he didn’t do anything too special, you wouldn’t get upset with him. He was a busy guy, and you were aware of this when you started to date him. It was actually Chris who was nervous about dating you, not because of the fans or media but because he feared not giving you the love, care, and attention that you deserved. Even with how understanding you were, you still missed him. It was a good thing exams were coming up because otherwise you would be getting nostalgic rereading the text messages between you and him. And you tried not to do that, you really did but studying was so boring and stressful, all you wanted to do was fall asleep with Chan. You were almost successful with your studying session, but you swore that you had heard your phone buzz. You nearly lept onto your bed, and no there weren’t any messages but, a break couldn’t hurt right?

that rapper from hot sauce i love or smthn: hey babe im sorry for not giving you attention

that rapper from hot sauce i love or smthn: ive just been swamped with work

that rapper from hot sauce i love or smthn: i miss u and im three secs away from abandoning my kids. i am so tired. i love you baby

that rapper from hot sauce i love or smthn: by the way did you change my contact name?

you: its okay chris! dont worry about it, work is a priority. I love you too :(

you: and yes!

you: sent an image

the nice guy whojust has a lot of money: im divorcing u and leaving you with the kids

you: no please im not ready to be a single parent

you: channie please i love u

the nice guy who just has a lot of money: okay for love i guess

the nice guy who has just has a lot of money: i guess...i really am a nice guy who just has a lot of money

the nice guy who just has a lot of money: i have to go, i’ll try calling later but no promises. i miss and love you lots baby

you: oh mYGOD

you: please remember to rest babe, i love and miss u too

You sighed, shutting off your phone and holding it against your chest. He hadn’t called that day, nor since. You understood that he had responsibilities, but absence makes the heart grow fonder, you guess. Their comeback stage was tomorrow, and they were driving over to a city who’s name you forgot. You would’ve gone, if you hadn’t had finals all day and it was hours away. You felt terrible for not being able to go out and support him but Chan insisted that you stayed and rested instead of taking a bus up to their stage. You loved that man, you really did. You glared at the textbook on your desk, hoping that it would suddenly set combust into flames. But alas, you were but a mortal. Before resuming your studying, you pulled at your desk drawer to reread the motivational sticky notes that Chan would always leave around your place. You sighed, looking over the sticky notes that have since lost their sticks but made your face warm just staring at it.

Like mate, stop procrastinating!

If you get better than a passing grade i’ll let you yell at me about sleeping

Do you know how smart you are? You’re like Einstein, if he was hot

I love you but i’ll love you a little less if you fail

You smiled to yourself, your cheeks hurting and flustered from the notes. You must’ve been a patron saint in your past life because he was just, amazing. You really hoped there was a future in store for the two of you, because he made you feel like it was your first time falling in love all over again. He made you weak in the knees, and always made you feel like you were the only one for him. Maybe it was a little silly how those sticky notes motivated you, but whatever worked, right? You continued to review the notes, Chan’s voice nagging you about the formulas you hadn’t quite memorized yet in your head. But eventually, your eyes grew weary and you shut off your desk lamp, collapsing onto your bed.

Exams were, in short, not fun. You were fairly sure you had passed, but only by the hair on your head. Maybe it was the anxiety speaking- you had yet to completely flunk an exam, but it could always happen. You’d worry about that in a couple weeks, it was future you’s problem. Right now, all you wanted was to eat take-out and watch Stray Kid’s comeback. It was fairly late when you got back home, the light outside already dimming and fading to a night gradient. You watched the clock anxiously, waiting for their stage to air on TV.

You were never one to overreact, but something about seeing your boyfriend doing what he loved on stage, seeing all his hard work pay off- it made you yell at the screen. It made you yell in the same way a sports fan yells at the players and refs, and only Chris could do this to you. As soon as his stage ended, you texted him, hyping him up. You knew he’d be doing a live shortly after, but at least he’d see it soon enough. Unfortunately, you collapsed in the middle of his live, exhaustion finally catching up with you. You thought your phone buzzed again but being half-asleep you brushed it off.

“___! ___, get up!”

“Love of mine, light of my life, shh…”

You groaned but laughed as he pulled at your arms. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders as he pulled you closer. “I missed you,” he murmured against your lips, pressing a kiss on them, “I’m sorry about being gone so much.” You tilted your head, smiling at him. “Hey,” you said softly, cupping your face, “Don’t worry about it, let’s get some sleep. Actually, what time is it?”

“Three am.”

“Chris!”

“Look,” he whined, “You can’t yell at me I drove six hours to be with you.” He threw you over his shoulder, “Plus, we’re going to sleep, like right now. I’ll even sleep in.” He flopped you on your bed and you crossed your arms as he took off his shirt, wiggling your eyebrows. “Wow,” you teased, “He’s hot.”

“You’re so gross,” he murmured, laying his head on your chest but not before leaving butterfly kisses up your collarbone, “How did the test go?” You sighed, playing wth his head of curly hair. “It went okay, I think. But this isn’t about me. Your stage was amazing, you did great. Phenomenal, spectacular, fantastic, ground-breaking-”

“Alright!” he sighed, “I don’t deserve you.” He tightened his arms around your waist, kissing your shoulder again. “Oh, Chris don’t start,” you scolded softly, “You’re the greatest boyfriend ever, and you work really hard. Now, shut up and go to sleep.”

“You have such a way with words, I’m swooning.”

“I love you.”

“I love you more.”

“I love you most.”

“Impossible-”

“Hm? What? I can’t hear you over the enormous amount of sleep I’m getting.”

You groaned, moving to rub your eyes but finding Chan’s arms tightly wound around you. “Don’t even think about it,” his voice was raspy and low, “I got it.”

“Chan,” you whined, “You have to eat, just stay in-”

“Later.”

You sighed again, and Chris pulled you closer pressing lazy kisses up your neck and jaw. His eyes were still closed, and you looked at him dreamily. His hair was messy, and he looked so much more relaxed, muscles less tight and tense. He was under so much stress, and it was good to see him finally take a break, even if it was only for a couple of hours. You fell asleep against his chest, feeling each heartbeat against the side of your face. And maybe you should’ve felt a little bad for waiting until he fell into a deep sleep to wriggle out of his arms (which was weirdly difficult, the guy had a strong grip) to make him breakfast. You weren’t sure what diet he was on, but you were sure that no one would mind if he cheated just a little bit.

“____! Are you doing what I think you’re doing?”

You exhaled, biting the inside of your cheek as you heard him step into the kitchen, trying your best to ignore. He hugged you from the back, letting his head rest on your shoulder, kissing the nape of your neck. “I told you we could do it later.”

“Well, it is later, Chan.”

“But we could’ve just ordered something,” he whined, “Come back to bed, please.”

“After I make you breakfast.”

“I really hoped it wouldn’t have to come to this.”

“Come to wh-?”

He picked you up, throwing you over his shoulder. “Chris put me down or I swear-”

“No,” he sat on top of you, “We’re ordering in, and we’re going to eat in bed and stay here until we become one with the bed.”

“You’re crushing me,” you groaned, “Get off you bum.”

“It’s the diet they’ve got me on, I’ve got hella gains, man.”

“Yeah I saw your thrist trap on insta, you hoe.”

“It’s not a thirst trap!”

“Well, I don’t know about that. Have you read the comments?”

“Now, listen-”

“Shut up,” you propped yourself up and kissed him, and as he leaned into it, you pushed him off.

“You play so, so dirty,” he whined, “Come here and make it up to me.” You snorted but rolled into his arms anyway. “I love you,” you said and stared at him, “A lot. Even with your hella gains, man.” He cupped your face, thumbs stroking your cheeks. “But I love you most.” You opened your mouth so protest, but he shushed you with a kiss. “Don’t start,” he said in between gasps of deep kisses, “Just let me spoil you.”

It had been a couple days since their first stage, and later that day Chris needed to go back to the dorms to tend to his children. He insisted on staying longer, but Woojin was blowing up his phone. You guessed that the group got themselves in another mess. Your anniversary was coming up, and this was the first time you were scared that he forgot. He was usually much better about this than you, and always went a bit too far with his gifts. You had already got his present, an expensive chain necklace you took extra shifts to pay for, but it was worth it when the jeweler handed you the chain. You loved the idea of people getting their boyfriends flowers, so you got an arrangement made. You even had a photo album made of your favorite moments together, and songs that were attached to those moments. Okay, maybe it was a little corny, but you worked hard on it. Chan hadn’t messaged you since then, and you assumed it was because he was busy, but you were getting antsy.

And just like you had before, you nearly jumped to your phone when you heard your phone buzz.

iron man in the streets but better than tony: check under your bed

you: ?? okay

You crouched on the floor, pulling out a simple box, and inside of it was silk clothing with a card with an address and time stamp on it.

you: chris

you: what have you done

you: CHRISTOPHER

you: IM GOING TO END YOU

you: YOU SAID YOU WEREN’T GOING OVERBOARD

you: YOU IDIOT YOU HAVE READ RECEIPTS ON

You’d be lying if there wasn’t a stupid grin on your face as you put on your attire. It took you a while to get ready, work and school hadn’t exactly given you room for self-care but you tried your best to look nice. You looked up the address, and much to your dismay, it was an overpriced fine dining restaurant. The cab driver gushed over your date, complimenting you and wishing you the best of luck on your future endeavours, even blessing your marriage. It was a little weird, but endearing. You hadn’t even called a cab, but instead you got a message saying your ride was there.

You expected Chan to be outside waiting for you outside, but instead, you were greeted by a very nice waiter who’s name you didn’t catch. He beckoned you to follow him. The restaurant was pantheon themed, very airy and light colors decorating the entire place. It was definetly the nicest restaurant you’ve ever been to, but you thought the same thing for your year and half anniversary too. You clutched onto your gifts awkwardly, and the waiter helped you carry the bouquet of flowers.

“Any chance you can tell me what else he has planned?” “Afraid not, he warned me about this.”

“Smart man.”

You were sat at a table in the center, the stained glass letting a pool of warm colors illuminate the room and everyone’s faces. The flowers sat delicately on your lap, and the jewelry box laid on tope of the table, your fingers dancing across it’s edges. That’s when you heard the violins start playing, crowding around your table and playing a dainty tune. You felt a blush creep on your cheeks as you rubbed them, trying to smile less. And there he was, on top of the small stage meant for the classical instrument players to sit on. You wanted to glare at him, but all you could do was smile at his gestures. He winked at you, beginning to sing a song. You were about to cry, rubbing your eyes as the song ended.

“Was I that bad?”

“No, god, no,” you pulled out the flowers and handed it to him, “I know that can’t be the end of it, so let me give these to you.” He looked through the photo album, pursing his lips as tears brimmed at the brink of his eyes. He opened the jewelry box, pulling out the fancy chain necklace you had gotten him. “Oh, baby,” he murmured, “Did you pick up extra shifts for these? You shouldn’t have…”

“Chan, literally look at everything you planned, and say that to my face again.” He smiled, pulling the chain over his head so he could wear it with his suit. You decided that he looks best while wearing fancy suits like this. Perfectly tailored to him, even if bits of chest was visible through his half-buttoned shirt. “You’re right though,” he said, “I’m not done.” He pulled out a little box out of a pocket from inside his jacket. “It’s a promise ring,” he said as he slid it across the table, “You are the love of my life, ____, and I think it’s a bit too early to full-on propose to you, but I want to make the promise that I will one day.”

You opened the box, the expensive ring nearly blinding you as the warm light hit it. “God, I hate you so much, Chris,” tears were streaming at your face, a smile glued to your face.

“Do you like it?”

“No.”

“No? We could change it- or replace it? Or-”

“I love it, and you so much.”

“I love you most.”

“No-”

“Shh,” he kissed you, “Don’t start.”