#still waking up with this ginger lad taking up half the bed

[onse-chill]

Cat Dad submission 🧡🐈

[theweasleysredhair]

Ask Her [G.W.]

Character: George Weasley

Word Count: 5000

Requested?: Yes/No

Summary: George gets jealous when Cedric takes an interest in Y/n.

Disclaimer: Gif isn't mine, credit to whoever made it

A/n: requested by nonnie, hope you enjoy my love! (also my first full george fic, feedback is appreciated!)

~*~

PLEASE DO NOT REPOST MY WORK! REBLOGS ARE ABSOLUTELY FINE! <3

+ + + + +

“Y/n, wake up!”

“Hmm?” You mumbled as your eyes slowly opened, adjusting to the view in front of you, “What’s going on?”

“You need to get up, it’s nearly time to go!” Hermione announced loudly, before rushing up the stairs - most likely to wake everyone else up. You sat up on the couch you had fallen asleep on, stretching as much as you could before your hand hit someone.

You turned to see a familiar mop of ginger hair belonging to the younger twin and smiled. Your movement caused him to wake up, yawning as he sat up himself, in a half delirious sleepy state and looking more adorable than you’d ever seen him.

“Morning Georgie,” you grinned as you pushed the thin blanket off your legs. “Morning love,” George replied, his voice rough from sleeping.

You heard the sound of pans clanging together and stood up, heading towards the kitchen to help Molly with making breakfast.

“Good morning my darling!” Molly greeted as you entered the kitchen. “Good morning Molly, in need of any assistance?” You asked politely. “Don’t you worry, I’ve got it all under control. You couldn’t do me a favour and make sure Ron is up could you? I sent Hermione but I’m afraid it may not be enough.”

“Of course Molly!”

You made your way upstairs, finding Ron’s room and poking your head inside. Seeing that Harry and Ron were at least awake - although not yet out of bed - you headed over to Ginny’s room instead.

Finding Ginny packing and Hermione sat on her bed, holding a backpack on her knee, you smiled at them from the doorway.

Ginny looked up at you and smirked, “Any particular reason why I had the room to myself last night?”

“I found her curled up with George on the couch,” Hermione teased, grinning over at you as you sat down on what would have been your makeshift bed, rummaging through your belongings to find a brush for your hair.

You looked over at them as Ginny giggled, “We literally just fell asleep there last night. It could just as easily have been anyone else.”

“And he could’ve easily woken you up and got you in here but he chose not to, what does that say?” Ginny countered.

“Plus you woke up with a blanket around you both, who do you think did that?” Hermione added.

“Might’ve been Molly,” you mumbled, turning back to your bag and letting your hair fall into your face, hoping it was hiding the redness of your cheeks.

“It was George, don’t kid yourself!” Ginny shook her head as she went back to packing.

“Are you sure nothing happened hmm? Your cheeks are awfully red.”

“Nothing happened, nothing ever happens, you know that,” you sighed.

“But you want something to happen!” Ginny exclaimed, “You know you do!”

“I... I might,” you said lightly, pulling out your change of clothes and rolling your eyes as you heard the girls squealing and yelling, “I knew it!”

Once you’d all got changed, you headed downstairs for breakfast, shooting glares at them both to make sure they didn’t say anything, however you couldn’t stop them from wiggling their eyebrows when the twins entered the room, George taking a seat beside you.

You’d all left soon after, following Arthur who was leading the group into a field.

“Ron, where are we actually going?” Harry asked from beside you. “Don’t know,” Ron shrugged before yelling out, “Hey dad, where are we going?”

“Haven’t the foggiest, keep up!” was his reply, making you laugh.

The sun was just starting to rise, the crisp early morning air making you shiver a little as you followed Arthur’s lead across the large field, then through a group of trees. As you emerged into a clearing, you noticed a shorter man seemingly waiting under a tree for you.

“Arthur! It’s about time son!” the man called out as he walked over to meet you all.

“Sorry Amos, some of us had a sleepy start,” Arthur replied, shooting a pointed look over at Harry and Ron, making you giggle.

“This is Amos Diggory everyone! Works with me, at the ministry!” Arthur introduced you all. Suddenly, someone jumped down from the trees above you, making you jump and almost stumble back into George’s chest, who evidently was stood just behind you.

His hands automatically rested on your hips to steady you, “You alright there, love?” You turned to face him, wearing a sheepish smile, “Yep, sorry I nearly stood on you.” “If it means you’re this close to me, feel free to nearly step on me more often,” George said with a grin.

“‘Step on me more often’?” Fred laughed from beside him, “Bloody hell Georgie is that the best you could come up with?” George nudged Fred in annoyance and shot him a glare as he nodded to you. However, you were no longer paying attention as your focus laid on the extremely good looking boy who had just jumped down from the trees.

“And this strapping young lad must be Cedric, am I right?” Arthur asked the brunette boy.

“Yes sir.”

You shared a look between yourself, Hermione and Ginny, all of you thinking the same thing as you glanced between them and the good looking lad stood in front of you.

George narrowed his eyes as the group began moving on.

“Pretty boy Diggory trying to steal my girl,” he grumbled to Fred, who nudged him with a mocking laugh. “You do realise she’s not your girl because you won’t tell her how you feel, right?” Fred grinned.

“She knows how I feel,” George insisted, staring over at where you were laughing with Cedric, who had fallen in line with you whilst walking.

“You sure about that?”

As you arrived at the top of a hill, the group began to circle around an old boot, sitting in the middle of the grass.

“Why are they standing around that manky old boot?” Harry asked in confusion.

“That isn’t just any manky old boot mate!” Fred replied. “It’s a portkey,” George added.

“What’s a portkey?”

But Harry’s question went unanswered as Amos began counting down, everyone grabbing hold of the shoe. You were overly aware of the feel of George’s hand half covering your own and as you glanced up at him, he gave the back of your hand a squeeze and shot you a lazy smile, just as you started whizzing through the air.

“Let go, kids!” Arthur yelled out. “What??!” You heard Hermione screech out. “Let! Go!”

At his command, you let go of the boot, and found yourself toppling down onto the ground with a thud. You groaned in pain as you rolled onto your back, just in time to see Arthur, Amos and Cedric land gracefully on their feet.

Arthur chuckled at you all laying on the floor before joking, “I bet that cleared your sinuses, eh?”

You were about to try and stand up before a hand was offered out in front of you. You took it gratefully as Cedric easily pulled you to your feet. “Th-Thanks,” you stuttered out, his hand still in yours. He gave you a small smile and a nod, before running to catch up with his father who had already began walking off into the distance.

Unbeknownst to you, George had stopped in place as he watched Cedric help you up, glaring at the brunette boy as he ran a hand through his ginger hair, earning an amused head shake from Fred who patted his twin on the shoulder as he passed him.

You made eye contact with Hermione who grinned at you and nodded in Cedric’s direction. Shrugging, you pulled your backpack further onto your shoulders and began following after the group.

You felt an arm wrapping around your waist and you looked up in shock, before relaxing as you realised it was George pulling you towards him. His mouth was set in a straight line as he stared intensely ahead at Cedric’s back.

A few minutes later you had arrived at a busy campsite, crowds of people laughing and cheering, waving flags and sporting face paint and accessories relating to the Irish Quidditch team, due to play later on in the day.

“Well kids, welcome to the Quidditch World Cup!” Arthur announced, much to the excitement of everyone around you. You began weaving through the crowd, listening to the music playing and watching people fly on broomsticks above you.

“Parting of the waves I think old chap, see you at the match!” Amos bid his goodbyes as you arrived at a small, worn tent. “See ya later, Cedric!” Harry yelled as Cedric and his father left.

You all entered the tent, finding many rooms inside, decorated and made homely. Looking around in disbelief, you marvelled at how big the interior appeared compared to when you were stood outside.

“Girls, choose a bunk and unpack. Ron, get out of the kitchen, we're all hungry,” Arthur called out as he made his way through the tent.

“Yeah, get out of the kitchen, Ron!” The twins mocked in unison as they sat down at the wooden table at the back of the tent, making you laugh. They put their feet onto the table just as Arthur turned to them, “Feet off the table.”

“Feet off the table,” the twins repeated.

They took their feet off the table but put them back on as soon as Arthur had walked past.

***

The match was due to start any moment and you’d all taken your seats high up in the stadium. You looked around in awe at the sheer amount of people who had come out to watch Ireland vs Bulgaria.

“Come on!” Fred yelled out as the Irish team flew out into the stadium, the crowd cheering and screaming. A big, glittering leprechaun appeared in the sky and started dancing, and you cheered loudly, waving the Irish flag you had purchased previously in the day.

“Here come the Bulgarians!” George yelled from beside you. The Bulgarian team began flying around the stadium in much the same fashion as the Irish had, and the crowds started chanting the seeker’s name.

“Krum!!” The twins yelled out. George leant down to whisper in your ear, “He’s going to catch the snitch, you just watch.”

“I thought you wanted Ireland to win,” you raised an eyebrow as you looked up at him.

“Oh they will, but he’s going to catch the snitch. Me and Freddie would bet on it,” he shared a knowing look with his twin as you rolled your eyes with a smile.

***

“I can’t believe you were right!” You laughed as you all were celebrating Ireland’s win of the match.

“You should know by now that I’m always right, love,” George replied with a smug grin, “Ireland is the better team, but Krum is the best seeker in the world. We knew he’d catch the snitch.”

“There's no one like Krum. He's like a bird the way he rides the wind. He's more than an athlete, he's an artist,” Ron announced dramatically to the tent.

“Think you're in love, Ron,” Ginny joked, grinning as the twins started singing.

“Sounds like the Irish have got their pride on,” Fred laughed as the loud sounds from outside entered the tent, getting louder when suddenly Arthur rushed towards them, “It's not the Irish. We've got to get out of here. Now.”

You grabbed your bag from the floor beside you and followed the group out quickly, clutching Hermione’s arm as you stood watching the chaos unfold.

Crowds of people were rushing to get away from something, screaming and trampling tents, belongings and even others in their attempt to escape.

“Get back to the portkey everybody, and stick together. Fred, George... Ginny is your responsibility,” Arthur announced.

Fred grabbed Ginny’s arm and pulled her with him, as you and George followed. George grabbed your hand ensuring you wouldn’t be carried off with the stampede of witches and wizards, all trying to get away from the fire and danger. You fought your way through the crowds, finally finding a safe clearly to catch your breath.

“Are we all okay?” Fred asked, peering around at you. “‘Course we are Freddie. Right, Y/n?” George looked to you to make sure you weren’t hurt. “Yeah, yes, of course,” You swallowed, staring around at the burnt tents as screams filled your ears. George sensed your apprehension and reached out to take your hand in his again, giving it a reassuring squeeze. Ginny was chewing on her lip. “We need to find everyone else. C’mon,” she said as she began running off.

The twins looked at each other before beginning to run after her, “Wait up!”

***

The aftermath of what happened at the World Cup was worrying and you’d had a weird feeling about what it all meant. The school year had just started however, and Hogwarts had a great way of feeling like home, comforting your worries, at least for now.

You decided to sit with your friends at the Gryffindor table, laughing with them as Dumbledore walked up to take his place at the stand at the front of the hall.

“Now we're all settled in and sorted, I'd like to make an announcement,” he called out, “This castle will not only be your home this year but home to some very special guests as well. You see Hogwarts has been choosen to host a legendary event - the Triwizard tournament!”

There was a surge of hushed but excited whispers throughout the hall, smiles arriving on students’ faced at what this news may mean.

“Now for those of you who do not know, the triwizard tournament brings together three schools for a series of magical contests. From each school a single contestant is selected to compete. Now let me be clear, if choosen you stand alone. And trust me when I say these contests are not for the faint hearted, but more of that later. For now please join me in welcoming the lovely ladies of the Beauxbatons Academy of magic and their headmistress Madam Maxime!”

The large wooden doors at the back of the hall swung open and a group of pretty girls dressed in blue uniform danced up the aisle. As they ran between the tables, male students couldn’t help but stare - particularly, you noticed in amusement, Ron Weasley.

“And now our friends from the north, please greet the proud sons of Durmstrang and their headmaster, Igor Karkaroff.”

A group of older boys walked down the aisle, stabbing bo staffs into the ground to create spark effects.

“Blimey it's him, Viktor Krum!” You heard Ron yell out as the seeker from the World Cup followed his headmaster to the front of the hall.

You could hear the excited chatter of everyone talking about the triwizard tournament as the students from the other schools sat down and you wondered who would enter. Your eyes caught George’s and he gave you a grin, which you returned.

The twins would definitely be entering.

“Your attention please! I would like to say a few words,” Dumbledore continued, “Eternal glory, that is what awaits the student who wins the triwizard tournament. But to do this, that student must survive three tasks. Three extremely dangerous tasks.”

“Wicked,” you heard Fred and George say.

“For this reason, the ministry has seen fit to impose a new rule. To explain all this we have the head of the department of international magic cooperation - Mister Bartimus Crouch.”

The man in question - Bartimus Crouch - stood beside Dumbledore and began to speak, “After due consideration, the ministry has concluded that for their own safety, no student under the age of seventeen shall be allowed to put forth their name for the triwizard tournament. This decision is final.”

The hall erupted in yells and students began booing. “That's rubbish!” George yelled. “Come on!” Fred added, “You don't know what you're doing!”

“Silence!” Dumbledore yelled out, “Anyone wishing to submit themselves for the tournament merely write their name upon a piece of parchment and throw it in the flame of the goblet of fire before this hour on Thursday night. Do not do so lightly, if choosen there's no turning back. As from this moment the triwizard tournament has begun!”

***

You were sat with Hermione watching as students placed their names into the goblet, other students applauding as they did so.

“Go on Cedric, put it in!” You heard a student yell. Looking up, you watched as Cedric laughed, before looking over to you and smiling as he dropped his parchment into the goblet.

Hermione nudged you with a grin, “He definitely fancies you.” “I doubt that,” you blushed, “Besides... you know I like someone else.”

“Speaking of...” Hermione muttered as the room suddenly filled with cheering as the twins ran into the room.

“Thank you, thank you! Well lads we've done it!” George announced. “Cooked it up just this morning!” Fred continued.

“It's not going to work,” Hermione said in a sing-song voice, causing the twins to kneel beside you both.

“Oh yeah?” Fred asked. George grinned at you, smiling wider as he noticed the slight blush rising on your cheeks at the proximity between you both. “And why's that Granger?” He spoke, however he kept his eyes on you.

Hermione gestured to the white circle on the floor, “You see this? This is an age line. Dumbledore drew it himself.”

“So?”

You hid a smile as Hermione sighed, “So a genius like Dumbledore couldn't possibly be fooled by something pathetically dimwitted such as an age potion.”

“That's why it's so brilliant!” Fred grinned.

“Because it’s so pathetically dim-witted,” George added.

The twins stood up.

“Ready, Fred?” “Ready, George!”

“Bottoms up!” They yelled in unison.

You watched as they jumped inside the age line. They paused a moment before cheering and dropping their names into the flame.

Suddenly, the flame rose up and the twins were flung across the room. You stood up immediately and ran over to make sure they were okay, “Fred! George!”

They rolled around fighting on the floor with beards rivalling Dumbledore’s, as the crowd cheered. You shook your head with a laugh, thankful they weren’t too hurt.

***

“Sit down! Please! And now the moment you've all been waiting for - the champion’s selection!”

Dumbledore dramatically dimmed the candles around the room and approached the blue flame. It began glowing red and a piece of parchment flew out, “The Durmstrang champion is... Viktor Krum!”

The Durmstrang students cheered loudly and you clapped for him as another piece flew out.

“The champion from Beauxbatons... is Fleur Delacour!”

Students cheer again and you laughed as Ron sighed happily as he watched her walk up to the front of the room. The third piece of parchment flew out and Dumbledore caught it, “The Hogwarts champion... Cedric Diggory!”

Cedric stood up with a grin, he friends cheering and whooping and clapping him on the back. He walked up to the front of the room, choosing to pause as he passed by you. He lifted your hand carefully and pressed a kiss to the back of it, before continuing on his way.

George grit his teeth, his jaw tense, glaring at the brunette boy who just dared to kiss you. Sure, it was just the back of your hand but even so, the audacity of the Hufflepuff had George’ blood boiling. By now, he assumed everyone knew you and him had a thing. And whilst no, neither of you had put a label on it, you were balancing precariously on the line between being friends and being more, and George did not want anything - or anyone, in this case - making that balance tip more towards ‘friends’.

“Excellent! We now have our three champions! But in the end only one will go down in history. Only one will hoist this chalice of champions, this vessel of victory... the triwizard cup!”

Just as students began chattering amongst themselves, the goblet glowed red once more and a fourth piece of parchment flew out. Dumbledore caught it much like the others.

“Harry Potter?” He read out in confusion, before repeating himself with more confidence, “Harry Potter!”

“Go on Harry! Harry, for goodness sake!” Hermione pushed the boy who lived to walk up to the front. Harry seemed in shock as he reluctantly made his way towards Dumbledore, just as students began yelling out angrily in protest.

***

“It’s dragons!” Harry yelled out as he headed over to your group who were sat in the Great Hall.

You looked up, “What?” “The first task,” he said as he took the seat opposite you, “the first task is dragons!”

Hermione immediately grabbed her care for magical creatures textbook and started flicking through for information, anything that may help.

“Bloody hell, mate,” Ron said, “Our Charlie works with dragons and he’s got more scars than he can count. And he’s a professional.”

“Might come out of this task a bit crispy, eh Harry?” Fred joked, nudging him.

“I’m gonna have to tell Cedric, he won’t know! Madame Maxime knows, she’ll tell Fleur and... and Karkaroff knows so that means Krum will. He’ll be the only one who doesn’t know!” Harry said in worry.

You smiled. Trust Harry to worry about Cedric instead of how he himself would beat a dragon. “I can come with you to tell him if you want Harry,” you told him.

“You’re going with Harry?” George’s head snapped up immediately at your comment.

You shrugged, “Yeah why not, he said he had something to ask me anyway.”

“Could be about the Yule Ball, Y/n!” Hermione said excitedly, looking up from the book, “He might ask you to go with him!”

George felt his cheeks flushing with anger, his fists clenching. He wanted to ask you. He did, but he didn’t exactly know how. Or when, for that matter.

“I don’t see why we have to tell that git about the dragons, let him figure it out himself,” he grumbled with a frown.

“George! Dragons are dangerous - you should know that, what with Charlie working with them. We need to warn him,” you scolded.

***

The first task was about to start. Harry had just entered the champions tent and you were stood in the awaiting crowd, worry racking you as you sat fidgeting in your seat.

“So um, don’t think I ever ended up asking but... did pretty boy Diggory end up asking you anything in particular?” George asked casually, trying to act like he hadn’t been thinking about it constantly for the last few weeks ever since it was first mentioned.

“He actually didn’t ask me anything... he looked like he wanted to, but decided not to,” you shrugged.

George couldn’t help the relief he felt to know Cedric hasn’t asked his girl to the ball, a weight falling off his shoulders.

“I hope he’s okay,” you chewed on your bottom lip as you peered down at the champions tent, waiting for the starting announcement.

“Who, Harry or your pretty boy Diggory?”

“Well I was talking about Harry but yes, I suppose Cedric too. I don’t understand why you’re always so rude about him. He’s really not as bad as you make him out to be,” you rolled your eyes though only half seriously.

“I’m not, I just don’t really like him is all. No one can be that nice and that good looking... there’s something up,” George insisted.

“Aww Georgie, you think he’s good looking, do you?” Fred teased, earning a glare from his twin as you laughed.

“Of course not. I think he’s a git.”

“He’s actually really nice once you get to know him,” you said. George scoffed, only half playfully, “Oh and you know him, do you?”

“Maybe she’d like to,” Fred grinned, enjoying winding up his brother.

“She doesn’t! You don’t... do you?” George quickly turned to you with a frown. You leant on his arm and snuggled into it, “Nothing to worry about here, Georgie.”

***

“This is mad. At this rate we'll be the only ones in our year without dates,” Ron grumbled and he stared down at the work he wasn’t doing, “Well, us and Neville!”

Hermione leant over to him, “It might interest you to know that Neville's already got someone.”

Ron sighed, “Now I'm really depressed.”

“Now you’re depressed?” You joked. Ron shot you a mocking smile as Fred pushed a note over to Ron. You watched Ron read the note and frown before he looked up at Fred, “Who are you going with then?”

Fred smirked, before throwing a scrunched ball of parchment over at Angelina. He proceeded to ask her to the ball and she shrugged and nodded in agreement.

Fred winked at Ron, earning a few laughs.

“Well Hermione, you're a girl,” you heard Ron say as you continued doing your work.

“Oh well spotted,” came Hermione’s sarcastic reply.

“Come on. It's one thing for a bloke to show up alone. For a girl it's just sad.”

You threw a piece of parchment at Ron and shot him a glare for his rudeness. He may have been one of your closest friends but you knew that his comment would hurt Hermione’s feelings.

“I won't be going alone because believe it or not someone's asked me. And I said yes,” Hermione growled in anger as she collected her work together and stormed out.

“Bloody hell,” Ron said as you picked up your textbooks before rushing after her. He watched as you ran out before sighing again and turning to Harry, “Look. We've just got to grit our teeth and do it. Tonight when we get back to the common room, we'll both have partners. Agreed?”

Harry nodded, “Agreed.”

***

“So that plan failed miserably,” Harry groaned, “‘Grit our teeth and do it’ you said. Well Ron, I think that’s easier said than done.”

Harry collapsed onto the space between Hermione and Fred on a couch in his common room, Ron and George sat opposite.

Ron was quiet in thought for a moment, before responding, “Suppose I could ask Y/n.”

“Like hell you will,” George suddenly jumped in as he sat up.

“Why, are you planning to? She was my friend first, she’ll say yes to me if I ask before you,” Ron faced him, crossing his arms across his chest.

“She won’t,” George insisted.

“Oh yeah? What makes you so sure about that?”

“Because I’m gonna be the first to ask her,” the younger twin said determinedly, nodding in triumph.

“If that’s the case, you better ask her soon,” Hermione spoke up, “Cedric is also looking to ask her - today, from the way he was speaking”

Fred laughed, “You hear that Georgie? Better go ask out your girl... unless you want Diggory to take her instead.”

“She won’t say yes to him,” George said, but he didn’t sound certain. He didn’t feel certain either.

“She might. He’s cute, he’s a Triwizard champion and, most importantly, you haven’t asked her yet, and the ball is getting closer and closer. She won’t wait around forever for you to ask her. So yes, she absolutely might,” Hermione shrugged.

George paused for a moment before jumping up off the couch, causing Ron to nearly fall off it too with a surprised yell. He made his way towards the portrait door quickly, tugging a hand through his hair.

“Hey, where are you going?”

George looked over his shoulder, “Where do you think? I’m going to get my girl!”

If he received a reply, George didn’t hear it as he was already racing through the hallways of Hogwarts, weaving through groups of students, scanning around to see if he could spot your h/c hair.

He rounded a corner and came to an abrupt halt as his eyes fell on your frame, stood in front of Cedric.

“... so I was wondering if you’d maybe accompany me to the Yule Ball?” George heard as he stepped towards you.

“Sorry mate, she’s already going with someone,” he called out, making you turn to him in confusion.

Cedric’s eyes widened as he took in George’s dishevelled appearance from his running from the Gryffindor common room, “I-I’m sorry?”

“She’s going with me. Must be gutting I know, I’d be disheartened too if I were you, considering she’s the most beautiful girl in school but she’s mine and I’m keeping it that way,” George wrapped his arm around your waist and stared intently at Cedric.

Cedric, though thoroughly confused, nodded, “O-Of course, yes. I’m sorry, I didn’t know. I’ll um... I’ll see you later Y/n.”

“See you later,” you replied as the Hufflepuff boy retreated down the hallway.

You turned to George, raising an eyebrow, “You wanna explain what that was about?”

George swallowed, now feeling nervous, “Look, I should’ve asked you earlier. Not just to the ball but to be my girlfriend too. Because I’ve fancied you since I can remember and I don’t want anyone else to be with you except me. If you, you know, like me too. If not I’m sure you can chase down Diggory-“

“I fancy you too, Georgie.”

His breath hitched his his throat as he processed what you just said.

“You do? Brilliant,” he breathed out, his heart beating fast as you stood close to him, “That’s just- yeah that’s great I mean I- do you want to go to the ball with me?”

“Yes,” you nodded, not being able to help the smile crossing your face, “Yes of course I do!”

George grinned, his hands finding their place on your waist, your faces inches apart. You could feel his breath fanning across your lips as he whispered, “Would you be my girlfriend?” You laughed, “Nothing would make me happier.”

George started leaning forward to close the gap between your lips as he mumbled his reply,

“Wicked.”

[crazy4dragons]

Sick Day

HTTYD Creative Week 2021

Day 3: Whump 

When Hiccup wakes up sick, the family works together to help him feel better. Rating: G.

Hiccup Haddock never got sick.

But when he woke up one frigid winter morning and climbed out of bed, he knew something wasn’t right. His head felt like it was spinning, his nose was runny, and it hurt when he swallowed.

“You okay, babe?” Astrid asked with a yawn.

“Yeah,” Hiccup replied in a raspy voice. “I think I just need a glass of water.” Fastening his prosthetic, he shuffled down to the kitchen.

“Daddy,” Zephyr began as she trudged out of her room, plush dragon in tow. Before she could finish her thought, she was distracted by the sight of her father’s pale face. “Daddy, you don’t look good.”

The chief managed a small smile. “I’m fine, Zeph. I—” He broke off with a coughing fit.

Zephyr sprinted upstairs and into her parents’ bedroom. “Mama! I think something’s wrong with Daddy!”

Sliding out from beneath the covers, Astrid followed her daughter downstairs, where she saw Hiccup leaning against the counter, still coughing. “Babe?”

“I’m okay,” Hiccup insisted between coughs. “I just —”

“You need to get back to sleep,” Astrid finished, gently taking his arm and guiding him towards the stairs. “You’re sick.”

Without protest, Hiccup allowed his wife to help him upstairs and into bed.

“I’ll make you some tea,” the blonde said, tucking the furs around him.

Hiccup barely nodded before drifting off into a feverish sleep.

…

Astrid returned to the kitchen, where she found Zephyr searching through the pantry. “What are you looking for?” she asked.

“Breakfast that won’t suck,” the little girl answered, tossing a glance back at Astrid. “Since Daddy can’t make any for me.”

“Shady much?” Astrid mumbled under her breath.

“What did you say, Mama?”

“Never mind. How about you go see if your brother is up? I’ll find something to cook for us.”

Zephyr groaned. “I said I want breakfast that won’t suck!”

“I’ll try,” promised Astrid, grabbing a basket of tea leaves and a bowl of fresh berries.

A moment later, Zephyr returned with Nuffink in her arms, his legs almost touching the ground as she half-carried, half-dragged him over to Astrid.

“Good morning, sleepy boy,” the Chieftess greeted, settling Nuffink onto her hip and kissing his head.

“Morning, Mama,” he yawned, snuggling against her shoulder and winding his little arms around her neck. “Is Daddy working?”

“Daddy’s sick,” Astrid replied, grabbing a kettle with one hand as she supported Nuffink with the other. “So we need to be on our best behavior today, alright? You too, Zephyr. No trouble.”

The little girl narrowed her eyes. “When do I ever make trouble?”

The blonde laughed. Zephyr was definitely her father’s daughter.

“Mama, I want pancakes,” Nuffink mumbled, rubbing his tired eyes.

“Why don’t we have eggs instead?” Astrid suggested. “Pancakes are more Daddy’s thing. And Zephyr, if you could start washing off those berries, that would be a big help.”

In a short while, the family had a breakfast consisting of eggs, toast, and fruit on the table, along with a steaming mug of ginger root tea for Hiccup.

“You two start eating. I’ll take this up to Daddy,” said Astrid, grabbing the mug of tea.

“I wanna take it to Daddy!” insisted Zephyr, jumping up from her chair.

“No. I don’t want you to get sick. You stay down here with your brother. And when you’re done eating, run down to Uncle Gobber’s house and ask if he can babysit you while I do noon patrol later.” With that, Astrid disappeared from the room.

“Milady?” Hiccup’s eyes cracked open as he heard his wife approach.

The blonde smiled. “I’m here, babe. And I brought you some tea.” Noticing the dubious look on his face, she added, “Don’t worry. The kids helped.” She bent down to kiss his forehead. “You feeling any better?”

He coughed. “I don’t know.”

“Do you want me to send for Gothi?”

“For Thor’s sake, milady, I’m not dying.”

“I’m just worried.”

“I’ll be fine.” Another cough.  

Frowning, Astrid brushed the sweaty hair from his face. “Alright. I’ll take your word for it. Just promise me that if you start feeling worse, you’ll say something.”

“I promise.”

…

“Hiccup? Are you alive in ‘ere?” Gobber knocked on the Chief’s bedroom door.

“Gobber? Are you in my house?” Hiccup mumbled. Although he was awake, his mind was blurred with a feverish fog that made him feel as if he were dreaming.

The older Viking twisted the doorknob. “There you are, Hiccup. I was worried ‘bout you after yer lass said you were sick. Said Astrid wanted me to watch ‘er and Nuffink.”

“Is that why you’re here?” Hiccup pulled himself up against the pillows. “To babysit?”

Gobber nodded.

“Why didn’t Astrid ask me first? I could’ve watched the kids. I’m not helpless.” He sniffled.

“For Odin’s sake, lad, you need to take care o’ yerself. Get some rest. And if there’s anything you need, I’ll git it fir you.”

Hiccup sighed. “What I need is for everyone to stop worrying about me.”

Gobber laughed. “Good luck with that, Chief.”

“Uncle Gobber!” Zephyr called from downstairs. “Grandma’s here!”

“You told my mom?” Hiccup said, his voice growing hoarse from talking.

“I didn’t, but y’ know, news travels fast around ‘ere.”

A moment later, Valka appeared in the doorway. “How are you feeling?” she asked, pushing past Gobber to greet her son with a kiss on the forehead.

“I’m okay,” coughed Hiccup, sinking back beneath the covers.

Gobber turned towards the door. “Well, now that yer mother’s ‘ere, I’d better go git myself back t’ the wee ones. If you need anything, just ask fir it.”

The Chief nodded.

“Come on, dear,” Valka started as Gobber left the room. “Tell me the truth.” She placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“Okay, fine. I feel like dragon shit.” Then, realizing what had slipped out of his mouth, he added, “Sorry, Mom.”

Valka laughed. “It’s quite alright. I’ll go to the kitchen and help Gobber make you a warm pot of soup. That should help soothe you.”

“Do you know when Astrid will be back?” Hiccup rasped.

“I’m not sure, love, but knowing her, she won’t stay away from you for long. Now try to rest.” Tucking the furs around him, she touched a hand to his forehead before leaving him to drift back into sleep.

…

Astrid arrived home with a basket of herbs tucked under her arm. After hearing about Hiccup’s illness, Fishlegs had selected plants from his garden that he thought would make good remedies, and Astrid had accepted them with gratitude. The more things that could possibly make her husband well again, the better.

“Mama!” Nuffink shouted as he saw his mother walk through the door. “I made a get well soon card for Daddy!”

“So did I!” Zephyr added, grabbing the two sheets of folded paper and handing them to Astrid. “Look!”

“That’s very nice of you,” smiled the blonde, taking the cards. “Why don’t you go and give them to him? Just don’t get too close.”

The children eagerly ran up the stairs and into their parents’ room, announcing their arrival by climbing onto the bed and bouncing.

“Zeph? Fink?” Hiccup’s eyes cracked open.

Zephyr climbed onto her father and snuggled into his chest. “Daddy! I missed you.”

“I missed you, too, munchkin. But you really shouldn’t be here. I don’t want to get you sick.”

Nuffink curled against Hiccup’s side and pointed to the cards in Zephyr’s hand. “Me and Zephyr made these!”

Hiccup managed a weak smile. “You did? Let me see.”

As Zephyr passed the cards to him, the Chief carefully studied them, his smile growing wider. “Aww, you two are the best. I love these.” He wrapped an arm around each of his children and gave them a quick hug.

“How are you feeling, babe?”

The three Haddocks turned to see Astrid standing in the doorway, a cup of herbal tea in her hand.

“Astrid,” Hiccup began, burying his face into a pillow as he coughed. “You’re home.”

The blonde set the tea on the bedside table and, climbing onto the mattress,  lifted Nuffink into her arms and cuddled up to her husband. “Of course I’m home. I couldn’t leave you like this all day, could I?”

Hiccup let out a contented sigh. He still had a cough, and a bit of the sniffles, and his throat still felt a little scratchy, but with his family close, he knew he had everything he needed.

[itsafanficthing]

The Paper Boy - Chapter 4

Special shout out to @notevenjokingfic who beta'd for me on this chapter when I was struggling to make it make sense and flow properly.

Enjoy!

A03 is Here

One more week until school started again. One more week of waking up late...r than normal (Jamie still had chores and a paper route to attend to). One more week of avoiding Laoghaire MacKenzie’s house as she insisted that they should “hang out” before they were trapped back in classrooms. One more week to show Claire around the town that he grew up in and really cement their friendship before she would go to his school and the other girls would surround her like a pack of wolves.

It had been three days since the dinner at Jamie’s house and the smile hadn’t been wiped from his face since.

--

“Thank you for telling me that, Jamie. Really. Thank you for trusting me.”

“Yer welcome, Sassenach. After all, we’re friends, aren’t we?”

“You’re the only person I know in this town, I don’t know if that’s fair.”

“Yer sayin’ that there might be better options?” Jamie asked in mock horror. “After I shared my house- my dinner with ye?”

“Well, it’s your father’s house,” Claire grinned at him, “and your sister did cook.”

“They’re better options than me?”

“My options are limited, what can I say?”

Claire pretended to think for a moment. Her arms were still around Jamie, as if she hadn’t noticed that she was still comforting him. Jamie didn’t mind. He wasn’t ashamed to admit that he liked it. Not that he would ever say that out loud to Claire.

“Well I suppose-” Claire began before she was abruptly cut off by her uncle calling her name.

“Claire? Time to go.”

Claire and Jamie sprang apart… like… well… teenagers caught in a compromising position as the heavy sound of footsteps came down the hall.

“Jamie?” Brian Frasers voice followed.

“Thank you for dinner Jamie… for… you know… Thank you.” Claire stood up from the bed quickly and Jamie felt his cheeks heat up in embarrassment, though he didn’t know why.

“Thank ye for comin’, after… after ye had a hard day.” Jamie still hadn’t quite figured out what was wrong with Claire. He hadn’t really discovered that much more about her. She lived with her uncle, though he didn’t know why. Her father wanted her to play the piano, but she wouldn't. She was upset about something, though what that something was- Jamie was still at a loss. Perhaps Jenny knew more about her after their chat in the kitchen before dinner. Jamie made a mental note to try and talk to his sister about it.

“Yes well… every day is hard for some people. Why should that stop them from enjoying something nice?”

“And this was?” Jamie asked, “Nice, I mean?”

“Yes, it was quite,” Claire answered with a hint of a smile at her lips.

Jamie couldn’t help the smile that came to his face as Claire’s uncle and Jamie’s father finally came through the doorway.

“There you are, Bumblebee,” Lamb said in relief. “Couldn’t find you for a while there. Thought you’d been taken by the fairies.”

“No, Lamb. Just reading with Jamie.”

“Reading?” Lamb brightened at the mention of books. He looked around the room quickly, as if there was a mountain of books for him to start climbing.

“Lamb?” Claire called her uncle's attention back to her. “Were we going?”

“Ah, yes, sorry.” Lamb shook his head briefly, as if he remembered where he was.

And then they were gone.

It wasn’t a paper delivery day, but Jamie found himself making excuses to finish his chores as quickly as he could and jumping on his bike heading to town to run a few errands for his father and his sister.

Jamie pulled up in front of Claire and Lamb’s house- previously Walter Stuarts- and wiped the sweat from his forehead. Perhaps Claire would like to join him and she could see a bit more of the town.

Jamie wiped his hands nervously on his shorts before he knocked on the door. There was a clatter and then the heavy sound of footsteps coming towards the door.

Claire pulled the door open, her wild curls pulled away from her face and covered by a scarf.

“Jamie!” she greeted brightly, opening the door wider to him. “What are you doing here?”

“Sorry to drop by unannounced, Sassenach. I needed to run into town to get some things for Jen and my Da. I was wonderin’ if ye wanted to join me?”

“Oh, yes… sure, why not.” Claire stood back for Jamie to enter. “Let me just finish what I was doing and I’ll join you.”

Jamie ducked his head with a smile as he passed her. He caught a whiff of her perfume and thought that he might just go light headed with it. Floral with a hint of something earthy that reminded him of the freshly turned earth after a rainstorm. It was intoxicating and Jamie wondered why he had never noticed it before. (Of course he didn’t make it a habit to smell Claire whenever they were together.)

“I did’na mean to interrupt ye,” Jamie said as he followed Claire through her house.

“Oh, you aren’t. Not really. I was just doing some gardening.” Claire continued out to her backyard where Lamb was kneeling in the dirt and planting a rather flourishing tomato plant.

“Jamie, Lad. How are you son?” He asked looking up. He was wearing the flowering apron again and what Jamie assumed to be a woman’s wide brimmed hat, though he didn’t seem to be bothered by it.

“Well, thank ye,” Jamie answered as Claire knelt in the dirt patch again. “Can I help at all?”

“Oh, no, it’s fine,” Claire answered at the same time as her Uncle, saying “Yes, actually.”

“Lamb, Jamie doesn’t need to help.” Claire shook her head at her Uncle, who was obliviously looking up at Jamie and pointing to a rather large bag of soil that was sitting by the back door.

“Yes he does, he wants to, isn’t that right, Lad?” Lamb said, ignoring his niece and continuing against her protestations. “There’s a large bag by the door that my old muscles can’t lift. Could you bring it over?”

Jamie nodded, thrilled at the chance to help out, and even more thrilled at the chance that he might be able to show off to Claire.

“You really don’t need to,” Claire called out as Jamie bent to pick up the bag.

“It’s fine, Sassenach,” Jamie turned waving her away. It was a larger bag than he was used to, and Jamie briefly wondered how Lamb and Claire had managed to get it even to the back door. Still, he was used to this kind of work and it couldn’t be heavier than the bales of hay he was used to carrying around the farm.

Jamie bent his knees and hoisted the bag of soil onto his shoulder with a very heavy grunt. Christ it was heavy. Jamie thought it weighed about the same as a decent draft horse. Still, he was showing off to Claire and once it was in the right position on his shoulder it wasn’t so difficult. With another grunt Jamie stood up slowly and made his way over to their garden bed. Lamb had turned back to turning the soil, but Claire was watching him with a curious sort of expression. Jamie dumped the bag unceremoniously by them, trying not to show how much effort it had actually taken to move the bag.

“Excellent, lad. Thank you kindly. Now there’s about four more bags, at the side of the house, if you think you could manage?” Lamb said as he cut the bag open and started to grab handfuls of the soils and spread it around his freshly planted tomato vine.

“Four more?” Jamie repeated.

“You really don’t have to-” Claire began as Jamie held up his hand to stop her.

“It’s not a bother. I’m happy to help,” Jamie said, turning away to fetch the other four bags of soil.

--

Jamie considered lifting two bags at once, to really show off his strength, but that idea was quickly abandoned as the next bag felt about four times heavier than the first. Another grunt and another lift and Jamie was walking (half stumbling) back out to Claire and her uncle. Their heads were bent together and Claire seemed to be speaking very quickly, her hands gesticulating wildly as she spoke.

She abruptly stopped as Jamie dropped the second bag of soil by her and Lamb and Jamie swore that her cheeks were flushed as she turned away from him. Trying to shake off the feeling that Claire very much did not want Jamie’s help, he left to get the other bags.

--

Once the fourth bag had been delivered, Jamie helped Lamb spread the soil across the freshly turned garden. Jamie could feel Claire’s eyes on him as he worked with her uncle, but each time he turned to look at her, she was carefully absorbed in the next vegetable she was planting.

Finally they were done, and Jamie was wiping sweat from his forehead. Not quite the afternoon he had thought he would be spending with Claire, but any time to simply be with her was worth it.

Claire slowly relaxed and started to tell him about the things she was planting and the books she had read to help them grow in the best conditions, and the correct organic fertiliser to ensure maximum fruition. Similar to her Uncle, once Claire started talking about something she was passionate about, her eyes lit up and it was difficult to get a word in. Jamie didn’t mind. He thought he could listen to Claire talk about just about anything.

“So the tomatoes, I know it’s late in the season, but I think that they will be alright. Everything that I have read about them says that they should be surrounded by other vegetables, which is why I have the pumpkins here. Because they should spread out and while the tomatoes go up, you know? If it all goes to plan of course- though it should. I’ve done everything that should help them to grow properly. See I chose this spot because of the sun.” Claire paused to take a breath, looking up at the midday sun. “Yes, I think that this is ideal. Now, across this line here is going to be the herbs.” Claire focussed on the garden in front of her once more. Taking Jamie’s hand she pulled him to where she was talking about.

Jamie felt a thrill go through him at her touch, but he tried not to react.

“Along here I am going to plant some chamomile, garlic, ginger, maybe some ginseng if I can get it.” Claire pointed out the various spots she would plant her herbs before she looked back up at Jamie, smiling happily. “And then when they are nice and healthy, I can use them for- what?” Claire stopped speaking abruptly as she looked up at Jamie.

“What?” He repeated in confusion.

“What are you looking at? I’m covered in dirt aren’t I? I’ll go wash quickly and we can go into town.”

Before Jamie could say another word, Claire was leaving him stranded in the garden, wondering what she was talking about. He was just listening to her talk about the herb garden that she wanted to plant.

“You like her then?” Lamb’s voice came from behind Jamie, making him jump. Lamb had left them a while ago, mumbling something about a book he needed in doors.

“Sorry?” Jamie asked turning around to face the older man, and wiping his dirty hands on his shorts.

“Claire, you like her?” Lamb repeated. The flowery apron was now gone, as was the floppy sun hat. It was the first time that Jamie had really looked at Claire’s uncle. All other times he had been focused on Claire and her Uncle was just another face in the room.

“I suppose so,” Jamie tried to shrug casually and Lamb smiled at him with a knowing look that was slightly unsettling.

Lamb must have only been in his late thirties or forties, but years in the sun had weathered his skin to a tanned leather. Claire had told Jamie that her uncle was an archeologist and that he had spent the last thirteen years in Egypt with the University of Oxford. His hair was lighter than Claire’s though still brown, probably lightened from his time in the sun. His eyes were bright green in contrast to Claire’s golden whisky and Jamie briefly wondered if she got her eyes from her mother.

“I mean, son, that you like her.” Lamb emphasised the word and Jamie fought the flush on his cheeks.

“Well, I-” Jamie didn’t actually know what he was going to say and shoved his hands deep into his pockets, looking down at the ground. He couldn’t look Lamb in the eye with this conversation. He’d only known Claire for a week. It was a bit too soon to be talking her uncle about his feelings (no matter how much Lamb was right on the money).

“She’s a very attractive young woman, and I don’t know what she’s told you, but she’s been through a lot in the last few months.” Lamb continued, unaware of Jamie’s discomfort. “You’re father told me a bit about your own loss, your mother, your brother.” Lamb’s voice was careful and measured; a much different tone than the enthusiasm that Jamie had become accustomed.

Jamie looked up quickly to see Lamb looking uncharacteristically seriously at him.

“I wouldn’t want to betray her trust by telling you things before she is ready, nor yours by telling her.”

Jamie nodded in agreement, though not quite understanding what Lamb saying.

“I just want you to be careful. For you both to be careful,” Lamb said gently. “You are both very young.”

“I just… we are just going into town,” Jamie replied hesitantly.

“Oh, I know,” Lamb chuckled lightly and his face was transformed, back to the relaxed jovial features that Jamie recognised. “I’m glad she has a friend, Jamie.”

Jamie heard the back door open as Claire exited the house before calling out to them both.

“Aye so am I.”

“Jamie? Are you ready? Lamb we are going into town. Do you need anything?”

“No thank you, Bumblebee. See you when you get back.”

Lamb nodded seriously at Jamie, who found himself swallowing heavily before following Claire back through the house to pick up his abandoned bike on the footpath.

--

“So, the herbs?” Jamie asked as they walked together. Jamie pushing his bike and Claire strolling along side him. Occasionally stopping to study a weed growing between pavers, or pick up an interesting pebble. “The ones you want to plant.”

“What about them?” Claire asked, standing up and putting another pebble into her bag.

“Why those in particular? The vegetables, I understand, but the herbs… well, they are’na exactly… I dunno…”

“They’re medicinal,” Claire answered promptly. “They are useful. All food and herbs are useful, of course. But those one in particular. Chamomile is useful for relaxation, headaches, anxiety. Garlic is useful for blood pressure and cholesterol-”

“‘Tis good with pasta as well. Garlic bread.” Jamie helpfully added as Claire chuckled in response.

“Yes, it is also good for garlic bread. Ginger,” she continued, “is good for a cold and flu, nausea, it can be used as an anti-inflammatory. Ginseng is similar to ginger, but a bit more potent I think.”

“How do ye know all this?” Jamie interrupted, “and why wouldn’t ye just use normal medicine, rather than growin’ yer own?”

“Why not?” Claire shrugged in response. “It’s natural, comes from the earth-”

“Aye, so does paracetamol if ye think about it,” Jamie interrupted.

“I suppose so.” Claire shrugged again as her forehead wrinkled as she thought. “I didn’t have a garden before,” She said slowly, as if she was testing Jamie’s response to her. He tried to look ahead as they walked together, but he couldn’t help glancing over at her, just to watch her think.

“We didn’t have room. When Lamb and I moved out here, I saw the garden and I don’t know. I suppose I just felt like I needed to do something with it. I’ve always been interested in plants and natural medicines- stop for a second.”

Jamie halted as Claire stopped to pick up a smooth pebble. She ran her fingers over the surface gently before smiling softly and adding it to her bag.

“So,” she continued as if she had never stopped, “Lamb and I decided to set up the garden. Sure I could use paracetamol or cold and flu tablets when I need to, and I’m sure I probably will, but why not try for something natural, something that I’ve grown myself?”

Jamie shrugged in response. He didn’t really have an answer.

“Why do you farm?” Claire asked suddenly, as they rounded the corner and the main street came into view.

“Because it’s been in my family for generations and it’s Da’s work. It’s how we live. Weel, we farm and he does a bit of Accountin’ here and there when he needs to,” Jamie answered as he found a bar to tie his bike against.

“And what will you do?” Claire asked. “When you finish school I mean?”

“I suppose I’ll work on the farm.” Jamie shifted uncomfortably. Claire noticed.

“Is that what you want to do?”

“I guess so. I haven’t really thought about it.” Jamie shook his head as they continued down the street towards the general store.

“That’s a lie,” Claire stated abruptly. “I can see it on your face. You have thought about it, and farming isn’t it.”

“And ye ken me so well, do ye?” Jamie asked uncomfortably.

“Not really, no,” she answered honestly. “But you aren’t passionate about it. I can tell that.”

“And what are you passionate about, Claire Beauchamp?” Jamie asked as he held the door open for her, hearing the welcoming bell tinkle in response.

“Many things,” Claire said simply as she walked past him, the smell of her shampoo wafting past him and leaving him dumbstruck for a moment.

—

Jamie collected a basket from the stack by the door and pulled the list from Jenny from his pocket.

“We won’t be long. Just a few things for Jen.”

Claire nodded in response and studiously followed him down the isles, occasionally stopping to pick up and item, study it carefully before putting it back.

Jamie was done quickly, knowing the store as well as he did and Claire had picked up a few things of her own.

“Hobnobs?” Jamie asked as she put her purchases on the counter.

She smiled and shrugged in response as Mr MacWilliam finished Jamie’s transaction.

“I just need to go to the hardware store for my Da and then we can go,” Jamie said as Claire immediately opened the packet of biscuits before offering him one.

“Never really liked Hobnobs, myself,” he said as he took one. “They always remind me of my Auntie Jocasta. It’s the only biscuits she ever has at her place. Weel, it’s the only ones she puts on offer. I’m sure she keeps the good stuff hidden somewhere else.”

“Hobnobs are good,” Claire defended with her mouth full of the wafery biscuit. “They’re sweet and crumbly. Good size.” She held up a biscuit to show him. “They’ve got it all.”

“They’re crumbly,” Jamie said shaking his head. “Ye canna dip them into a cup of tea without them disintegrating.”

“Why would you ruin two good things?” Claire asked aghast. “A cup of tea and a good biscuit. That’s barbaric.”

“Yer tellin’ me ye never dunk yer biscuits in a cup of tea, not even a glass o’ milk?” Jamie asked in shock as they approached the hardware store.

“I’m not an animal. So no.” Claire held her head high in defiance and Jamie snorted with laughter.

“Yer saying I’m an animal?”

“Barbaric!” Claire exclaimed with a smile.

“Ye hav’na lived, Claire Beauchamp. Lucky ye met me when ye did.”

“You’re going to show me the ways of the world, are you?”

“If yer lucky.”

—-

Backpack full and about a million questions about what various farming tools in the hardware shop did later, Jamie and Claire exited the shop together.

“That’s all my errands done,” Jamie said, watching Claire’s face fall from her previous excitement and laughter. “But I dinna have to get these back straight away. I can show ye round the shops if ye like?”

Claire immediately brightened and nodded enthusiastically.

“Only if you have time.”

“For ye, Sassenach, I have all the time in the world.”

Claire blushed prettily at that and Jamie felt as though molten lava was travelling from his throat to his manhood. She was so pretty and she had no idea of the effect she had on him.

“Shall we?” He asked as he slung on his backpack, looking anywhere but at Claire. “There’s a few clothing stores down that way, a sweets place round the corner, erm, a bookstore…”

“Shall we just wander?” Claire asked as she rolled the plastic of her Hobnobs to cover the extra biscuits. “Can I ask a favour though?”

“What’s that?” Jamie asked as headed towards the clothing stores. Girls liked clothing stores didn’t they? He had memories of Jenny dragging him around to various stores before he was allowed to go into town by himself.

“Can you hold my Hobnobs? They won’t fit into my bag.”

Jamie grinned widely at her. “They’re your biscuits.”

“Which I tried to share with you.”

“What’s wrong with your bag?”

“It’s full.”

“Of rocks and weeds,” Jamie snorted with laughter as he held out his hand to take the packet from her.

“Of pebbles,” Claire corrected him. “And plants,” she said as she handed him the half empty packet.

“What if ye want to buy somethin’ in one of these shops?” Jamie asked as they stopped outside the first store. There was heavily thumping music coming from behind the glass door and Jamie took a deep breath. He’d been shopping with Jenny before, he knew how long this could take, but as long as he was spending time with Claire he didn’t really care all that much.

“I’ll hand it to you.” Claire laughed lightly and Jamie felt his heart stutter in his chest at the sound.

“Aye, regular pack horse, I am.”.

—

Shopping with Claire, specifically clothes shopping with Claire, was… well odd was the first thought that came to Jamie’s mind.

Jamie’s memory of shopping with his sister and even his mother went for what seemed like hours as they entered each and every store, digging through each rack and and stand, trying on forty thousand items, to then only purchase one or two.

Claire didn’t enter most shops, barely breezing past the window before moving onto the next. It was Jamie that was left behind, looking at a pair of shoes, or a t-shirt before Claire was calling out to him.

“Keep up then,” she laughed as Jamie looked around wildly for her and flinched in surprise as he realised that she was already at the window of the next shop.

“How do ye move so fast?”

“What do you mean?”

“My sister will spend three hours looking’ over a display and rootin’ through stacks of clothes and ye dinna even enter the shop.”

“Ah,” Claire grinned as he caught up to her. “Clothes shopping doesn’t particularly thrill me. But I do have a theory when I am forced to do it.”

Forced to do it? Was Jamie forcing her to do something she hated? He’d just assumed that she would want to look at the clothing shops. It seemed like it was all the other girls in his year wanted to do. He should have known Claire wouldn’t be like any other girl.

“There’s a bookshop just up further, if ye wanted to go there?” Jamie asked hesitantly. Here he was, dying to spend time with her, only to do something she hated.

“Oh, yes, that would be marvellous,” Claire said excitedly, almost skipping a step.

Jamie relaxed and they rounded the corner, both looking up to the sound of his name being called.

Laoghaire.

Jamie should have known they’d run into her eventually. She had been trying to see if Jamie was going into town all week, wanting to meet up with him.

She was waving at him enthusiastically, almost skipping toward him. Jamie saw on her face the exact moment that she saw Claire beside him. A mixture of confusion (and was it anger?), before she schooled her features and plastered a smile on her face.

“Hi Jamie. I was wonderin’ when ye’d be in town,” she said brightly. She had stopped when they’d come face to face (as much as Jamie thought that she might go straight through him at the speed she was walking towards them). She was standing very, very close to Jamie. He found himself taking a step backwards and closer to Claire. For protection? Maybe.

“Today I suppose,” he tried to say politely, but he knew that he sounded gruff with her.  “This is Claire. Claire this is Laoghaire. Laoghaire’s a few years younger than us.”

“Nice to meet you,” Claire smiled brightly at Laoghaire. Jamie could feel his neck flushing at her smile. Was there anything about Claire Beauchamp that wouldn’t make him blush like an idiot.

“Ye as well,” Laoghaire smiled politely. “Ye just moved here then?”

“Yes, a few weeks ago. Jamie’s been kind enough to show me about.”

“Aye, he’s always been a bit of a gentleman. Even when we were bairns playing house.”

Claire looked between Jamie and Laoghaire grinning.

“Aye- yes, weel, that was quite a while ago Laoghaire. Dinna do so much of that any more.” Jamie ran his hands through his hair, pushing it out of his eyes in agitation.

“Now ye canna even find time for me to hang out in the village.” Laoghaire pouted and Jamie found himself taking a half step back toward Claire again.

He didn’t understand why girls pouted like that. What was he supposed to do when they did? Jenny never pouted at him when she was upset with him. She usually just yelled at him. Or tried to whack him with a wooden spoon.

He hadn’t seen Claire pout like that yet and he was entirely sure he ever would. Claire seemed much more similar to Jenny and would either yell at him if she was upset or try and whack him with whatever was closest. But the thought of her bottom lip popped and a wee wrinkle on her forehead… Lord even the thought of it was attractive to him.

“We should get going,” Jamie said to Claire ignoring Laoghaire’s plea for attention.

Claire nodded. She was looking at him with an expression that Jamie didn’t quite understand. Her eyebrows twitched slightly. Claire, for the most part, was usually quite easy to read. Jamie may not know her very well, but she usually wore most of her thoughts on her face. Right now though, Jamie couldn’t understand what she was thinking.

“It was nice to meet you, Laoghaire. I’m sure I will see you again at school,” Claire said politely and smiling at Laoghaire.

“Aye, I’m sure you will.” Laoghaire smiled back but Jamie wasn’t sure how genuine it actually was.

“Bye, Laoghaire,” Jamie said taking a step to move past her.

“I don’t get a hug goodbye?” Laoghaire asked sweetly.

“We’ve only just met, I didn’t think it was appropriate,” Claire answered for Jamie, who snorted with laughter in response before he suppressed a sigh and pulled Laoghaire into a one armed hug briefly.

—-

There was an awkward pause between Claire and Jamie as they continued down the street. Jamie wondered what was going through Claire’s mind. Was she curious about Laoghaire? It might help her to know someone else in town, even if Laoghaire wasn’t in there year. Did she think that Laoghaire and Jamie were a thing? He was about to explain that he and Laoghaire’s families had grown up together and that they were just friends when Claire spoke.

“So, did you want my theory then?” Claire asked as the bookshop came into view.

Jamie swallowed heavily unsure of what she was going to say. Theory about Jamie and Laoghaire? Theory about growing up in a small town, where everyone knew each other?

“Always.” Jamie didn’t really mind what Claire wanted to talk about, as long as it was him that she was talking with.

“I figure that they put the best clothes on display. So I can look in the window and if there’s nothing that takes my fancy, I can move on,” Claire said seriously as Jamie looked in her confusion. “Because why would they hide the good things? And if I don’t like anything on display, the odds of me liking something that is buried deep in the shadows of the store is, statistically speaking, quite slim.”

“I’m sorry,” Jamie apologised in confusion. “What are we talking about?”

“My theory about shopping,” Claire answered matter-of-factory. “You wanted to know why I skim past the stores.”

“Right,” Jamie agreed. “I did.”

“So there you have it. What’s meant to be is meant to be. If I didn’t see it when I first looked, I clearly wasn’t meant to have it.”

Jamie hummed in response as he opened the door to the bookstore for her, wondering if she was only talking about clothing.

—

In complete contrast to how Claire shopped for clothing, it seems like she could have spent hours in the bookshop. Jamie was quietly proud of the little bookshop in the village. Shelves overflowing with classics, second hand and new, every subject you could imagine was available. Not only could Claire spend hours in the shop, so could he.

Claire walked up and down each aisle carefully, her fingertips running lightly over the spines of various books before she let out an excited squeal as she came across the gardening section.

“Jamie!”

She didn’t need to call loudly as Jamie trailed her from a respectful distance. Not wanting to be separated from her, not wanting to crowd her, fascinated by her facial expressions as she looked at each book.

“Aye?” He said casually as he rounded the corner with a book of his own.

“Look!” Claire held out a book to him excitedly, as she rocked back and forth on her feet.

Jamie snapped his book shut as he took her offering. It was a book of natural medicinal herbs and remedies from what looked like the 17th century.

“Medicinal Herbs and Natural Remedies, Dr. C. E.B.R. Mackenzie.” Jamie read from the front page.

“It’s perfect. I’m going to get it.” Claire was literally bouncing on her tiptoes and Jamie couldn’t help but smile at her.

—

The walk back to Claire’s house would later be regarded by Jamie as the moment he was sure that he was in love with Claire. That it wasn’t just a crush. He was well and truly head over heels for her.

It wasn’t that glimpses of her body, her porcelain skin, wild curls and full lips that wreaked havoc on his body. It was just simply Claire.

The more that Jamie learned about her, the more he wanted to know.

She was smart. He already knew that. But as they walked together and she relaxed, telling him more about her life, and he for the first time truly realised how intelligent she was. He was immediately afraid that she might be put a year ahead of him at school and they wouldn’t have the same classes despite being the same age. But she put that thought to rest as she explained how happy she was that she already had a friend and her first day wouldn’t be so daunting. Jamie promised that he would stay by her side, introduce her to some more people and that he wouldn’t abandon her.

She was funny. She was quick witted and almost brought tears to Jamie’s eyes as he laughed at her explanation of her fury regarding traffic jams.

She was impatient. Claire spoke quickly jumping from one thought to the next, particularly if it was something she was passionate about. However she had a skill in making Jamie feel like she wasn’t talking at him. She spoke over him often before apologising for her rudeness. Jamie didn’t care. She was saying what he was thinking anyway- like she was plucking the thought straight from his mind and putting it in her own words.

She had a deep sadness about her. But she hid it well. Only certain topics, specifically family, caused her to retract into herself and let Jamie direct the conversation.

Lamb’s words about her being through a lot in the last couple of months echoed in Jamie’s memory. He longed to ask her about what haunted her, to let her know that he was a shoulder that she could lean on but it wasn’t the right time. As curious as Jamie was about her past, about her family, about Claire, he somehow knew that Claire needed to be the one to make the first move and open up to him.

She was kind and Jamie wasn’t sure she recognised that about herself. She smiled at people as they passed, saying hi to Jamie and looking at her curiously. She stopped Jamie to look at an orange and black ladybug before helping the insect off the pathway and onto a nearby leaf.

They took their time walking back to Claire’s so that it was late afternoon by the time they returned. Jamie would more than likely be in trouble for taking so long on his errands but he couldn’t find it in himself to care.

As he waved goodbye to Claire at her gate, watching her as she unlocked the front door, waved once more, blushing prettily before shutting the door behind her and calling out to her uncle, Jamie was sure of one thing. He was in love.

[amnachil]

To the Perfection Chapter 2 Part 7

Last part of Chapter 2 ! This is the climax of Thomas’s plan. How will it ends ? Read to know ;)

Cody Tuesday April 16

A burst of laugher made him pull faces. Joël loudly giggled, fascinated by the cat video he was watching. Cody looked at him. I never thought I would be happy to have him here. During the last month, they hadn't been coming back home together. But now they were doing it again, and the dark-haired was surprised by how happy it made him feel. I guess it's true. We don't realise how much what we take for granted is precious.

"Seriously, the cat can't even jump properly." mocked his friend. "Hilarious !"

Cody smiled. A part of him still felt guilty. He had endangered their friendship for his selfish desire. And I'm so in love with Thomas I would probably do it again...

"Are you really okay ?" he asked to clarify his doubts. "I mean, are we okay ? I know you were mad after what happened."

Joël rolled his eyes.

"You apologised right ?"

"Yeah."

"And you said you weren't thinking straight, right ?"

Cody nodded.

"So we are okay. And I'm sure Thomas will forgive you sooner or later. You just have to make it up for what you said."

"Yeah, true."

He had never imagined Joël would be advising him. I always thought it would be the other way around : he would do a huge stupidity and I would have to help him assume the consequences. Well, he also never imagined Thomas was gay and dating Ilhan...

"Gotta go before my mom gets mad." growled Joël. "See you tomorow dude !"

Cody waved him and went inside his home. I don't know why, but I'm kind of happy now. The love of his life was still utterly ignoring him but at least he didn't seem to hate him anymore. I won't say I have a chance to be his boyfriend but... maybe I can manage to be his friend again. Cody asked only that.

It was almost midnight when he heard a knock at his window. Surprised, he opened and faced Ilhan. His tubby friend lowered his eyes.

"Hey." he whispered. "Can we talk ?"

"Sure... Come on in."

Cody let him pass. He looked kind of... relieved ? He wore a too tight t-shirt, which emphasized his bloated belly. Has he overeat again ? He was very chubby now. A beginning of a double-chin had made his appearance, and his lovehandles were more prominent. Is it because he's so stressed about his relationship with Thomas ? Afterall, everyone was supporting their friend but nobody ever congratulated Ilhan.

"I need your help." said this one.

"My help with ?"

It wasn't an hour to ask help for studies. Nor anything to be fair but Cody was awake so here they were.

"This is the first time in month that I'm not overstuffed and barely conscious during the evening !" almost yelled Ilhan. "I'm not sure I'm thinking straight but I need your help to end my relationship with Thomas."

"What ?"

What ? WHAT ? Cody's brain stopped to work. There was absolutely nothing, NOTHING making sense in Ilhan's words.

"I can't be his boyfriend dude !" continued this one. "I'm not even fucking gay ! He forced me to do all that. Well, he didn't actually forced me but... Raah the point is : I want to break-up with him. Even if I'm not sure we can say that for the kind of relationship we have."

And Cody thought he was losing his mind. No, he definitely had never imagined this.

Dan Wenesday April 17

This birthday was the worst Dan had ever attend to. But let's go back to the beginning. When Raphaël arrived in the morning, he was dead-tired and asked to sleep. Which he did for almost the whole day. So his boyfriend and Thomas spent the day together, waiting for him to wake-up. I checked on him several times. He's just deeply at sleep. Raphaël finally came downstair at the exact moment when Darren dropped by.

"What are you doing here ?" the ginger asked with a cold tone.

"Uh... I thought it would be nice to wish you an happy birthday."

Dan looked at them. His bestfriend was still scared. Damn, this is so troublesome. I told him there is nothing to be worry about. As for Raphaël, he had an impassive face. He was completely emotionless and the college student didn't know if it was good or bad new. I'll never find the guts to talk to him. The ginger was about to say something but suddenly, Thomas picked a piece of paper.

"You dropped this Darren..." he said.

Then, his eyes opened wide.

"Is it ? I can't believe it. Dan... Oh Dan."

"What ?"

Thomas looked at him with sadness. Fear was suddenly seizing the brown lad. Slowly, under the others curious looks, he came closer and took the paper. It was a letter. From Darren to Raphaël.

"I'm sorry for everything which happened in middleschool between us." he read. "I really hope you'll forgive me because I want to be a better person, especially to prove you I changed."

Then there were crossing-out but Dan deciphered his bestfriend's name and the word "love". Thomas patted his shoulder with pity.

"Raphaël how could you ?" he asked.

"How could I what ?" his brother retorted. "I don't understand what is going on here ? Dan can you..."

He stopped when their eyes met. He cheated on me. With Darren. I knew it would happen. I knew he was too perfect, too good for someone as pitiable as me. But with my bestfriend of all people ? And they were a thing in middleschool ?!

"Deep down I knew it would end like this." Dan whispered. "I have never been good enough to stand next to your perfection. You had to find someone better."

"Dan, this is not what..." tried to intervene Darren.

"You just shut the fuck up." ordered the college student. "Raphaël, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I have been a burden to you. You're always so shiny, so..."

The cold prevented him to continue. Or was it his own sob ? He felt water on his cheeks. Thomas grasped his shoulder.

"Is that what you think ?" asked Raphaël with the coldest tone he had ever used. "That I'm so perfect that I would have to cheat on you. With... Darren ?"

Nobody answered. They all shivered when the ginger inhaled. Something died around them, but Dan couldn't say what. His heart was aching.

"Fine." whispered his boyfriend. "I'm out of here. Thomas, take care and behave. I'll call you later."

"As if I would answer, you monster." replied the youngest brother.

And the star athlete left.

Dan burst into tear the second after. He could feel Thomas's arms around him, but his world was blur. Everything he believed just crumbled. His chest was pounding like crazy. He heard Darren yell at them :

"Are you out of your mind ?! Both of you, what the fuck did you do ?"

"Just go fuck yourself !" retorted Thomas. "You're as guilty as my brother !"

"But there is fucking nothing between us !" shouted Darren. "Raphaël hates me because I used to call him a faggot in middleschool and I tried to blackmail him ! Oh god what did you do ?!"

Dan froze. His heart skipped a beat. What ?

"What ?" asked Thomas.

"I was a jerk. A fucking bully who wasn't thinking of anything but himself." mumbled Darren. "And I was so fucking jealous of Raphaël because he was already so grown-up, so handsome and so famous even if I was older... I discovered he was gay by accident when he revealed it to his friend Liam !"

The brown lad sat up straight. God no. No no no. What did I do ? No please. Thomas was as lost as him.

"I thought it would be nice to make him suffer." continued the science teacher. "So I called him a faggot and I told him I would shut up if he gave me all his pocket money. But Raphaël went to talk to my parents. He said the truth and scared them and me at once. This is why I moved. Because I had been an asshole to him !"

He took a break to breath. Thomas stood up. He looked paniced. Dan was more than that. His eyes wouldn't stop crying. His head was painful.

"When I came back, I thought it would be nice to make amend if I was ever gonna meet him again. I never expected him to be your boyfriend ! But I've changed, I really have... I wanted to support both of you. To be your bestfriend again. I knew I would have to prove him I was different. That is why I wrote the letter, but I never intented to sent it anyway. I just couldn't find the good way to talk to him. And I swear I was gonna tell you Dan but since he didn't, I thought he wanted to wait... I owed him at least that."

Dan looked at Darren. He's honest. He's not lying. He had wrongly blamed his boyfriend. I told him everything he didn't want to hear. That is was perfect. That I wasn't worth it. That I hadn't faith in him. I messed up so hard. Because now he knew what died earlier. It was Raphaël's heart.

Thomas Sunday April 21

Four days and they had still no news. Raphaël was gone. He appeared on TV once with his team but he never contacted Thomas, their parents and of course, Dan. The plan hadn't work out the way expected. But it worked out anyway. They weren't together anymore. Which meant the young sibling had now his chances. He was champing at the bit by fucking Ilhan. And he was taking care of Dan. This latter had sunk in a depressed state. It wasn't fine to see him like that, but Thomas figured it would take some time. This evening, his friend had drank a lot. He was half-sleeping in the sofa, his belly bloated from all the beer and the food. Thomas sat next to him and patted his shoulder.

"Hey. Let's go to bed." he said.

Dan was still wearing his pajamas. He hadn't talked much since wednesday. Shirley and Carol had come several times but nothing. Darren had been here another time, but the man wasn't very welcome anymore. Even Thomas hadn't managed to hear more than a few words. I hate seing you like this... I promise I'll do everything to make you feel better. He hold Dan while this one got up. He almost let the ginger carry him, which wasn't easy since he weighted a lot. Thomas dragged him to his bedroom, and pushed him onto the bed. He felt his friend grasp him, and with no time to react, fell with him. Oh no. They were face to face, lying one onto the other. The teenager felt his dick getting hard. He pulled himself out and rolled next to Dan. This one groaned. His belly made a discomforted gurgle and he burped loudly. Thomas froze. Don't. Slowly, he put an hand on the noisy stomach. Don't. He rubbed it. A moan made him blush. Gently, with all the kindness he had, Thomas cuddled his crush. They huddled together against the mattress. Their new contact made him shiver with pleasure. Giving in to his desire, the ginger started to undress Dan and him. He took his time, making sure the other was okay. He acted soflty, calmly. Then he laid down on him again. He rubbed their bare bodies together. He moaned, feeling warmer than ever before.

"Rap... Raphaël." wailed  Dan.

Thomas's breath became shorter. That's normal. Totally fine. He's not over him yet but he will. But then he saw it. Dan's intense sadness. Their eyes met and he noticed the whirlwind of pain which disturbed the man he loved so much. Dan wasn't seeing him at all. And suddenly, he felt it. Guilt. It overwhlemed his body and his soul. Thomas backed up swiftly. Go away. Just stop. I was so close ! He almost puked. The burden of everything he had done crushed his chest. The ginger stood up and ran outside the room. No. No. No. I never asked this. All I wanted was his love. Please. He ran. Thomas barely took the time to dress-up and he ran. I just wanted his love. Why ? Why did I hurt him so much ? Tears were clouding his view. He didn't know where he was going and why. Stop. I don't want to feel that. Please. He stopped when he was completely exhausted. And Thomas realised he was in front of Joël's door.

To be continued

Everyone’s running.

Dan runs from his mistake, finding comfort in food and beer.

Ilhan runs from food and Thomas, asking Cody for help.

Raphaël runs god know where.

And Thomas runs in realization. Funny that he ends up in front of his dumbest friend’s door right ? 

A little hiatus and you’ll discover the true colors of Joël !

[thank-god-and-you]

Happy Birthday, @breakfast-at-bateses! I hope you’ve had a truly wonderful day! <3 You deserve it so much!

It was the unnatural warmth of the room that drew John’s attention first. During his life, he had been in many uncomfortable situations, in searing heat and in frigid cold, but this…this was unlike anything he had ever known. Grunting, he tried to shift away from the hot weight that was bearing down upon him and locking him in place. His sleepy mind conjured up vague memories of being a lad, of waking up with the heavy press of a large ginger cat across his chest, much like an unwanted hot water bottle on a humid summer’s day.

“Gerrof,” he muttered, not opening his eyes, swiping in the direction of the compression on his chest.

What his fingers came into contact with was definitely not fur.

It was silky-smooth, flowing. Frowning, he explored further, touching something else, something flesh.

A low groan. No, that was definitely not a cat.

“What’re you doing?”

The voice, accent thicker with tiredness, made him jump, and his eyes snapped open. He pushed himself up slightly, frantically looking to confirm what surely had to be a dream—

But no. This was very, very real. And the memories came flooding back.

Anna. Anna was here with him. She’d spent the night for the very first time, and none of it had been fantasy.

Now that sleep was receding, he could better wrap his head around it all. It was Anna’s head that he had felt firm against his chest; the rest of her body was vined around his lower half, her left arm flung across the paunch of his stomach, her breasts pressed to his side—he shivered at the realisation—her stomach rubbing sensually against his hip, her left leg thrown over his own.

“Wossup?” she continued, muffling her words against him, and he felt his heart expanding like a balloon inside his chest, the swirling feelings of affection and disbelief almost too much to bear. He scuffed his thumb over her shoulder blades, tracing the delicate outline of her bones. The romantic poet’s soul that Anna often teased was trapped inside his body wanted to declare her as carved by angels; she was as close to perfect as he was ever likely to see. She’d tell him that he was stupid if she ever knew that—after all, there was no such thing as perfection, and it was easy to forget about that when she started grousing at him about his bad smoking habit—but in this golden moment of peace and serenity, it was a thought he could not escape nevertheless.

“Sorry,” he murmured, pressing his palm to the small of her back in a bid to bring her even closer to him, no mean feat. “Go back to sleep.” He knew how dearly she hated early mornings, how early she had to rise for work in the week. She deserved a lie-in on a Saturday morning, and though he had always been an early riser, he could think of no better way to start his day than to remain right here by her side, soaking up the warmth of her body, listening to the comforting cadence of her breathing, enjoying the weight of her all along him.

Anna hummed, tucking her head further against him, and he closed his eyes to relish the sensation.

But then she stiffened. Pulled away.

His eyes shot open at once. Latent fear, fear that he had been working so hard to dispel, came rushing back in a tidal wave, and for that brief second he was right back in the past, back with Vera and her games. He was already primed to flinch away from acid words, derisive jibes about how low she’d stooped.

That blow, of course, never came.

Instead, Anna pulled the duvet up around her shoulders as she brought her knees up to her chin, her eyes glowing with wonder.

“So, last night really happened,” she said, a rose tinge infusing her cheeks. It was a colour that suited her.

“It did,” John agreed, pushing himself into a sitting position so he could rest his back against the headboard. In the soft morning light, he found that he was self-conscious all over again. Anna had mapped his body by the moonlight; his flaws had not been thrown into the sharp relief that they would be in the harsh light of day. For over ten years he had hardly been able to look at himself in the mirror; he would never be able to fathom how he didn’t repulse someone like Anna.

There was not one sign of regret in her countenance. Sighing, she shuffled closer to him, mirroring his position. Beneath the duvet which was still up to her neck, she found his hand. The touch startled him; instinctively, he opened his palm for her, and she slid her hand into his, her fingers twining delicately around his. He drew comfort from the surety in her touch.

“How are you feeling?” she murmured.

“Amazing,” he answered truthfully. “You?”

“Never better,” she replied, and his stomach did a funny kind of lurch as if it was doing backflips. She stared down at the duvet, her thumb moving up and down the side of his index finger with a tenderness that took his breath away. “I was sure that I’d wake up to find it had been nothing more than a dream.”

He snorted, unable to stop himself. “You thought that it would be nothing more than a dream?”

She fixed him with a look, the no-nonsense kind that he had come to recognise over the months they had been dating—it was one that was sent his way frequently, whenever she grew tired of his self-deprecating jabs. He doubted that she’d ever be able to fully stop them, but she certainly did a good job of quelling them for the time being.

“Yes,” she said, as if she thought he’d said something incredibly stupid. “I’ve been waiting for this moment for a long time.”

It boggled his mind that she could say things like that, with such sincerity in her tone. Anna could have chosen any man she wanted, and yet she had decided that she wanted to spend her time with him. He was both grateful and honoured that she would do such a thing.

Unbidden, he flashed back to the way they had been under the cover of night, of the way that her lean, slight body had twined around his, how good she had felt pressed to him in that way. The echo of her moans, the memory of her hot, sharp breaths in his ear, the recollection of her quivering limbs…all of it served to spark something inside him. He shifted, bashful.

“It was pretty good, wasn’t it?” he said.

“I’d say it was more than that, Mr. Bates,” said Anna, a definite lilt to her tone. She edged herself even closer, turning a little so that she was facing him. He was powerless to resist as she halved the distance between them until her face was mere centimetres away from his. When she was this close to him, he found that it was difficult to concentrate on anything else; she stole into his mind and saturated his senses in a way that he’d thought was simply impossible. In such a short space of time she had become his beacon. Even in those early days with Vera he had never been struck with the sensation that returning to her was like coming home. He had never wrapped himself around her and felt that, at long last, he had found peace. Vera had been all tempestuous fire, like a raging sea in the heart of a storm, like the Devil stealing those souls from purgatory. Being with her had been exciting at first, he could not deny that, but that kind of fierce conflagration burned itself out far too quickly, leaving only ashes that scattered in the wind, those broken dreams that nothing could mend. Anna was everything that he thought he’d lost with his foolish, youthful decisions.

Coherent thought deserted him in the next instant as Anna’s mouth met his. She kissed him tenderly, raking her fingers through his hair, and he grasped her around the waist, enjoying the lightness of his spirit that he had thought had long gone.

But then there was a low growl.

Anna pulled away at once, her cheeks spilling over with colour once more. John blinked, unable to stop the smirk from spreading across his face as he cocked his head to one side.

“Was that your stomach?” he said.

She buried her face in her hands, all the confirmation he needed. Chuckling, he tugged her closer, nudging his nose against her.

“It’s not that bad,” he said.

“It is when I’ve spoiled the mood.”

“You’ve done no such thing. I daresay we’ve worked up an appetite.”

This time it was Anna’s turn to grin bashfully, and she peered at him between her fingers. “I suppose you’re right there.”

“There’s no suppose about it. I’m famished too.” He encouraged her to pull her hands away, then pressed a quick kiss to her lips. “How does breakfast in bed sound?”

Now she was positively beaming. “It’s been years since I had breakfast in bed. The last time was when I was ill at uni and Mary made me dry toast. It was revolting—you know she’s no domestic goddess—but I was touched by the sentiment.”

“Well, allow me to treat you like a princess on this fine morning,” said John. “Though I can’t promise that my offerings will be any less disastrous than Mary’s. I’ve spent too many years sticking to the basics.”

“You’ve impressed me so far,” she said, tongue in cheek.

He snorted. “Yes, that burned lasagne was a particular highlight.” He had thought himself the world’s biggest failure for that one, but Anna had quickly soothed his disappointment away, taking it all with her usual unfailing good humour and generosity.

“I managed to eat around the worst of the burned bits,” she giggled. “I’m sure I’ll manage the same this morning if the worst comes to the worst.”

“Charming,” he said, groaning as he heaved himself to the edge of the bed. “Well, you stay here. I’ll be back very soon to present you with the best ‘morning after’ breakfast you’ve ever had.”

“Don’t worry, I had no intention of moving anywhere else,” said Anna, flopping down into the space he had just vacated, humming appreciatively as the warmth from his side apparently soaked through her skin. “Nice view, by the way.”

John snorted. It had been a long time since he had last considered himself someone who might catch the eye of someone of the opposite sex, but the sincerity in Anna’s voice was breath-taking. For her benefit, he limped across the room even more slowly than usual, giving her time to take in all of him from behind. He could feel her eyes boring into him, and entertained himself by imagining her gaze drifting down to his backside. Christ, what had she done to him? It had been a long time since he had last acted like a ruddy peacock for a woman. That was something foolish young men did.

Anna made him feel like the years had rolled back.

He reached for his robe and slung it over his nakedness. Anna’s groan of disappointment made him grin.

“Won’t be long,” he said, not quite daring to glance over his shoulder in case the sight of her lying there ruffled in his bedsheets tempted the thought of treating her to breakfast in bed clean out of his mind.

His culinary skills were not as disastrous as he’d feared. He managed the toast with minimal effort and even dared to try his hand at scrambled eggs. They came out runnier than he’d have liked—his mother had always made the fluffiness of them seem trivial—but they were at least edible. His bacon was slightly charred, but only around the edges, so he hacked those off as best he could. At least he could make a mean cup of tea.

Suitably plated up, he balanced everything on a tray and made the precarious journey back upstairs to his bedroom. Juice sloshed slightly over the edges of the too-full glasses, but thankfully that was the only mini disaster that he encountered. He pushed the door open with his toes and entered the room.

“Breakfast is served, milady,” he announced.

Anna was no longer where he had left her; she was now sitting up in bed, cross-legged…wearing the jumper that she had divested him of in a bout of desperation only hours earlier. He stopped short. She cocked her eyebrow at him.

“Something wrong?” she asked.

He tried to speak, but no words were forthcoming. Besides, how would he possibly be able to articulate the confusing vortex of emotions that swirled around inside of him? It was primitive silliness, but seeing her wearing something of his made his heart beat faster and his throat dry.

“You wear that better than I ever have done,” he croaked at last, limping further into the room. She giggled, but it was true. It was miles to big on her; small and slight as she was, it absolutely buried her, the neck falling halfway down one shoulder, the sleeves well past her hands, the breadth and length of it covering  everything from his sight, but there was something unexplainably erotic about seeing her wear that. Somehow, it made everything seem realer.

“Silly beggar,” she said affectionately. “Bring that over here. I’m starving.”

He did so dutifully, shuffling back onto the bed and laying the tray across her lap. They ate in companiable silence for a while, exchanging knowing grins whenever they caught each other’s eye. At last, however, Anna spoke.

“Is there something wrong?” she asked, a light frown creasing her brow.

John started. “What? No, of course not.”

“You just seem a little more preoccupied than you ought to be—and it’s not a post-coital haze.”

He blushed at the baldness of her words, shoving the last corner of toast into his mouth. He chewed slowly to give himself time to mull things over before speaking again.

“I’m not preoccupied,” he said. “I’m just…thinking. If I’m honest, I can’t get over how a few months ago I wanted to learn your name and now you’re having breakfast with me in my sweater.”

Anna blinked at him, then burst into giggles. “If I’m honest, neither can I. Especially when you only wanted to learn my name so you could get my insurance details off me.”

“You were very reluctant to give them up, from what I recall.”

“You can’t blame me. My insurance is going to be horrific this year.”

“With the way you rear-ended my car, I’m not surprised.”

“Oh, please, that was hardly my fault. My brakes failed me in the snow. There wasn’t anything I could have done to prevent it.”

“Maybe you could have made the decision not to take a car famous for being useless in snow down a vertical hill?” he said and was rewarded for his cheek by a pillow to the face.

“I still had the last laugh,” she resumed primly, as if she hadn’t just walloped him one. “I at least was sensible enough to be part of the AA. They came and rescued me while you were left on the roadside. I bet you called me some right names.”

“I was a bit put out,” he agreed. Just thinking about that cold made him shiver; it had been bitter that day, and his knee had ached fiercely at being stuck out in such temperatures in such cramped conditions for so long. “And I was mortified that I was going to be late on my very first day.”

“You made it there eventually, though, didn’t you?” Anna said serenely, taking a sip of her juice.

“Two hours late, as I’m sure you recall.”

She snickered. “I have to say, your face was absolutely priceless. If I could have taken a picture of your expression when you realised that I was sitting in on the board meeting too, I would have done. It would have made great comedy gold with the Crawleys.”

“It did knock me off balance,” he admitted. His stomach had lurched unpleasantly to find her sitting there, on Mary Crawley’s right hand side, looking every inch the consummate professional when hours earlier he had exchanged angry words with her out in the billowing snow. And, beneath all that, he’d been reluctantly impressed that she’d managed to put herself together so very well when he’d staggered in snow-saturated and panting for breath.

“You could hardly bear to meet my eye.”

“I was horribly embarrassed to find you there when I’d spoken to you in a less than gentlemanly manner. I was sure that you were going to set against me from that moment on.”

She shrugged. “I’ve had worse levelled at me than what you did. And Mary has always told me that I’m too kind for my own good.”

“Something I am infinitely grateful for,” he said. It was true. These early months at Crawley’s had been good for him, but there had also been some sour experiences to mar his good spirits. Thomas Barrow and Sarah O’Brien had been constant, painful thorns in his side, and he had needed all the allies he could get in order to keep one step ahead of them. To no one’s surprise more than his own, Anna of all people had been his greatest supporter. She had defended him like a lioness might protect the cubs in her pride, and he had come to rely on her support more and more the longer he had known her.

Perhaps it had been inevitable that he should start to fall for her, too. She was quick-witted and energetic, kind and just, vivacious and cheerful. Not to mention beautiful to boot. Even in that first meeting, he had had to acknowledge on a deep-down level that she was incredibly pretty. Love was a thing of the past, as far as he’d been concerned, but she had sneaked past the line of his defences like a soldier penetrating enemy lines in battle. And he would never be able to thank her enough for taking him hostage and making him see that there could be light in his life after all.

Anna’s eyes were misty with distant fondness. “And after it was over I approached you and offered to buy you a coffee so we could start over on a proper footing.”

“You said more than that,” he reminded her. In actual fact, she’d told him that she’d buy him a coffee but that was the extent of it all—she’d let him know right from the beginning that she was strong and sassy when she told him that was all the favour he’d garner, sexual or no. He’d gone cold all over with horror and embarrassment that she’d say such a thing in public. Now, all this time on, he could laugh about it too. “And you went back on your word.”

Anna’s eyes danced mischievously. “I think you’ll find that you were the one giving the favours last night, Mr. Bates, not me.”

He cleared his throat, taking a swig of his own juice. “I suppose as long as you were satisfied…”

“Oh, I was. Immensely. I thought you might have known that.”

“I did. You made it quite plain.”

“There you are, then. Though you’d do well to wipe that smile from your face, John Bates. You look like the cat who got the cream.”

“Believe me, I feel like the luckiest bloke in the world right now. It’s hard to wipe the smile from my face when I feel so very blessed.”

“You’ve always been such a charmer.”

“I’ve not got much else going for me.”

She turned serious at that. “Don’t say that. You have plenty going for you. I’ve been waiting for a man like you to come along. Someone kind and loyal, someone who treats me like an equal and not just a trophy…”

“You will always be my equal,” he told her. The warm feeling that had been kindling in his chest all morning was spreading again, warming him to the very tips of his ears and toes. “I love you.”

For a moment, he didn’t even realise what he’d said. Not until Anna said, voice trembling, “W-What?”

It crashed over him then. He’d just told her that he loved her. He’d been nursing that in the deepest crevice of his heart, tending to that tiny flame, protecting it at all costs in case something came along to extinguish it for good, but it had grown to such a blaze that it was simply untameable. No doubt he would pay for that dearly.

“I just—” he started, stumbling, his mind sluggish as he tried to think of some way to downplay this and bring back the lightness of moments earlier, but her hand over his stopped him. When he glanced up, he found that her eyes were shimmering.

“Christ, I’m sorry—” he said, alarmed—the last thing he wanted to do was bloody make her cry!—but she shook her head, a small laugh escaping her.

“Don’t be sorry,” she said. “Definitely don’t be sorry. I was half-scared that I was at that point all on my own. I was prepared to wait for you to catch up…”

“And I was afraid that I had got too far ahead of myself,” he confessed. “I didn’t want to scare you away.”

“So it appears that we’re both silly beggars,” she said, moving the tray to one side. John’s brain seemed to be working in slow motion as she moved across the bed towards him, dropping herself into his lap once more.

“We hadn’t finished,” he said stupidly. “We’ve not touched our tea yet. I do hate cold tea.”

Anna arched an eyebrow. “You really care about tea at a time like this?”

She ground down on him pointedly, and his head fell back; he was unable to stop the groan that rattled from his chest.

“No,” he gasped, his hands slipping beneath the oversized jumper and grabbing onto her hips. She pushed him back down amongst the sheets, nipping at his ear.

“I love you,” she whispered. “I love you, I love you…”

The words were sweeter than honey, and the pleasure that followed was all the sharper for it.

By the time they were done, their tea was stone cold. And John Bates found that he didn’t mind at all.

[sonofapitchblack]

Nightly Knocks

My name is Kevin and as I am writing this my hands are shaking and my sight is a blur. Yes, blur due to the tears that are slowly running through them. Tears of fear, sadness, and pain. First of all, I want to apologize to you whoever you are. If you are wondering why I am apologizing, do not worry as it will all make sense later. I want you to understand that I am doing this as this is my only choice and that this is something that I am doing against my will.

Everything was normal for me until last week. I might just be like you, I wake up for my morning coffee and rush to work. I have workmates but really just a few of them. I work in a law firm so, that keeps my mind really busy all throughout the day. After work, I clock out and if I just want to stop by the neighborhood café. I do that to make sure that my mind is at least relaxed and is relieved from the stress from work. Aside from the stressful current events that I have to read for work, I divert myself to reading funny mangas and other action-packed comics.

This is when it all started to change, it was a cold Sunday night. I was sitting down on my couch just browsing online for funny memes and to check on my mates’ posts too. My ginger cat kept pacing from the front door to me. From time to time he hissed violently as if he was trying to keep something away. I asked, “Gin what’s wrong with you?” and he’ll just walk towards me and rest on my shoulders while staring really hard at the front door. His eyes watch the windows and the doors. I was so curious to find out if there was anyone outside, but whenever I will try to stand up he hits me with his paw and snarls at me. 

I thought he might just be having a bad day so I decided to put him in the room and leave him there. Big mistake. I noticed the time, it was 5 minutes past 2am. I realized I had spent too much time browsing. As I was getting ready to sleep, I heard a knock at the door. You read that right a KNOCK. Just one knock. So I disregarded it and decided that I will be calling it a day and sleep. As I was walking back to my room, I heard it again. Just one, so I walked towards the door and asked if there was anyone, but nobody answered. Since nobody was answering and nobody was outside I retired to my bed and slept. Before I shut my eyes, I noticed that Gin sat down just in front of my bedroom door like he was guarding it. Guarding it against what? Or who? I shrugged it off and decided to sleep as it was already 3:00am.

The next day, was a busy Monday as Frank, our boss, had decided to treat all of us since it was his birthday. I came home late and noticed it was already half-past two. As I was putting my things down, there was a loud knock on my door. Yes, a single loud knock. I thought someone might accidentally bump the door. So I decided to shrug it off. As I was in the shower it happened again, but it was louder. I was able to finally lay on my bed. As I lay on my bed, Gin was restless. He went back and forth my door and the room window as if there was something that wanted to come in. I realized that I was already getting the chills and I was beginning to be restless. Take note this happened for the whole week. The knock on my door kept getting louder and louder each day and my cat kept getting more restless as so did I. 

Early today I just cannot take it anymore, the clock hit 2:00am and right on cue, the knock that I heard on my door was the loudest. I decided to finally open the door. There was a gush of cold wind with nobody at the doorstep. I tried to look behind me for my cat, he was nowhere to be found and when I brought my site back to the doorstep, there stood a pale-skinned young lad. Standing still, in his well tailored gray suit. He slowly looked up my way and stared at me for quite some time without any reactions. My whole body was shaking like his mere presence is something that I cannot handle. I finally got the courage to gaze into his eyes which by the way is one of the bad choices I have made today aside from opening the door. The moment I gazed into his eyes, I noticed that his eyes were fiery and yellow at the same time. Slowly, hie face showed a very sly smirk that turned into a devious grin. His eyes turned dark but still had the pupil as fiery and yellowish at the same time. I cannot move a muscle.

“What do you want?” I finally caught the words to say out loud, but my voice was obviously crackling due to fear. He grinned even wider and answered me, “I only wanted to play a little game with you. I thought you were going to last longer than this.” 

“What game are you trying to play with me? Fine! How does it go? How can I make you stop?” I muttered and asked to the best I can.

“It’s simple really.” He answered while slowly stepping closer to me. “I call it pass me or your soul. That means that the moment you opened that door you allowed me to get your soul. Since I am generous I will give you a chance and see if you can do something about it. If I find a different person with a stronger soul than yours I will leave you alone, but if none then your soul is mine.” He explained. “There is a bit of a twist, I do not want to go places by exerting my own effort. As clear as you can, try to share my visit to others and anybody who thinks they can withstand me being a nuisance then I will leave you be and pay them a visit.” He further explained. 

As I said earlier, I am sorry. I hope I was clear about what happened to me as it is my only hope of saving my soul that is why I apologized to you earlier. If in case I fail, then there is a chance that whoever you are reading this, is safe from whatever this thing is. Or are you?