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dvp95 · 5 years ago

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quiet on widow’s peak (13)

pairing: dan howell/phil lester, pj liguori/sophie newton/chris kendall rating: teen & up tags: paranormal investigator, mystery, online friendship, slow burn, strangers to lovers, nonbinary character, trans character, background poly, phil does some buzzfeed unsolved shit and dan is a fan word count: 4.3k (this chapter), 42.9k (total) summary: Phil’s got a list of paranormal experiences a mile long that he likes to share with the world. Abandoned buildings, cemeteries, and ghost stories have always called his name, and a particular fan of his has a really, really good ghost story.

read this chapter on ao3 or here!

Phil is herded out of the house before he can shower, style his hair, or put in his contacts. As soon as his clothes are finished drying, his parents are pushing him and all of his bags out the door.

“We’ve got someone coming to see the house,” his mum had explained in that half-frantic voice he associates with company arriving. “You’ve got somewhere to be, haven’t you?”

He doesn’t have the gumption to explain that he’s still got hours before he has to be anywhere. Instead, Phil just hoists his bags higher on his shoulders and sets off for the bus stop. The wind isn’t bad today, thank goodness for small mercies, but it still isn’t pleasant to be outside in November. He pushes his floppy, unwashed hair off his forehead and reluctantly sends Dan a message.

It’s still pretty early and Dan might be in class by now, so he doesn’t expect an immediate response. He’s halfway through a Buzzfeed article and leaning against the shaky bus window by the time his phone buzzes.

im omw from class now just meet me at my place

An address follows, close enough to the coffee shop and the Wilkins place for Phil to feel comfortable finding it. He’s not sure how comfortable he is with being in such a small, private place with Dan before spending most of the night with them. He wonders if his brewing feelings and abject confusion surrounding them will be obvious.

Phil bites his lip and taps away from the article. He’s not sure where to start, but he thinks it’s about time that he started looking into gender stuff. He’s lived with PJ for almost two years and been friends with him for longer, but this isn’t something they tend to talk about. Technically, he hadn’t even been told, he’d just picked up on it from conversations around the old Brighton house. PJ isn’t in the closet, but he seems to have the same attitude about his gender identity that Phil has about his sexual identity - it isn’t anyone’s business unless they’re actively pursuing him.

This isn’t about PJ, though. Phil can’t pretend like these bewildered Google searches are in any way an attempt to understand his friend better. This is about Dan.

“Dan?”

The girl looks confused enough that Phil thinks he’s gotten the wrong flat for a horrified moment, but then her brow uncreases and she laughs.

“Oh, duh. Sorry, she doesn’t have many people coming to visit.” She waves Phil inside and eyes his bags. “Especially not many that look like they’re moving in. You planning on staying long, mate?”

“Just the night,” Phil says, more or less honestly. His brain is still stuck on the new pronoun. He knows that Dan is fine with any pronouns, and that includes feminine ones, it just feels strange to have someone use the opposite of what most people might assume. “Er, my parents are selling their place and needed my junk out of the way.”

She nods and gestures deeper into the flat. It doesn’t have as many doors as the Brighton house that Phil shares with a rugby team’s worth of people, but it’s still enough to overwhelm him a bit. Seemingly in response to whatever panicked expression finds its way to Phil’s face, the girl laughs. “Winnie’s room is at the end of the hall,” she says. “Her name’s on the door, you can’t miss it.”

“Her name being Winnie,” Phil says slowly.

“That’s what she wants us to call her,” the girl says. There’s an edge to her voice now, a sort of protectiveness that Phil doesn’t know how to respond to.

Phil gives her an uncertain sort of smile and heads down the hallway. The common areas are surprisingly tidy for a student flat, but he still doesn’t feel comfortable there. He finds himself in front of a dark wooden door with a Winnie the Pooh poster stuck to it. It’s not exactly a nameplate, but Phil understands why their flatmate said that.

He knocks lightly, not wanting to disturb the other people who live here and might still be asleep. It’s barely past noon, after all, and Phil remembers what it was like to be a student. Hell, he doesn’t really have a proper sleep schedule now.

“Come in!”

Dan’s room is darker than the rest of the flat, and Phil has to let his eyes adjust for a moment as the door closes behind him. There are blackout curtains over the single window and fairy lights draped over every possible surface, giving the whole place a soft vibe. Phil doesn’t see Dan at first, but then he realises that they’re on the floor with -

“Is that a weasel?” Phil asks without bothering to say hello, dropping his bags carefully. The last thing he wants to do is scare the creature that’s scampering all over Dan’s shoulders and arms.

“Excuse me,” Dan laughs. They hold out the animal for inspection, and Phil joins them on the floor. “This is Tofu, he’s a ferret.”

“Hello, Tofu,” says Phil. He reaches out to gently take the ferret’s paw between his thumb and finger, and he pretends like they’re shaking hands. Dan laughs again, bright and happy, and Phil decides that he really likes seeing Dan in their comfort zone. “It’s very nice to meet you! I’m Phil.”

Tofu makes a squeaking sort of noise and wiggles out of Dan’s hands to roll around on the carpet.

“He’s kind of an idiot,” Dan says fondly. “Pixel is the smart one in this family, but she’s sleeping.”

Phil’s eyes follow Dan’s vague gesture to a surprisingly large, multi-level enclosure. There’s another ferret curled up in there, and Phil assumes that’s Pixel. “Exactly how many weasels do you have?”

“Just the two,” says Dan. They’re smiling so wide that Phil can’t bring himself to look away. Their lips are a dark shade of red, or maybe burgundy, but it’s hard to tell in the low lighting. The dark lines around their eyes are even more shadowed with it, though, and it’s an entrancing sort of effect. “Originally it was just the one, but she got so lonely. I should have gotten an introverted animal, I guess, if I didn’t want multiple, but I didn’t mind. Pixel wanted a buddy, so. Pixel got a buddy.”

“I think even introverts need buddies sometimes,” says Phil.

He’s suddenly so self-conscious about being here in his current state. He’s wearing his trusty denim on denim, which he knows suits him fine, but he’s also got his clunky glasses and can’t remember if he put deodorant on or not. Dan, on the other hand, looks as stunning as always.

That gets even more obvious as they lounge out a bit, uncrossing and stretching their long legs. Their leggings are tight and translucent enough that Phil might find them indecent if there weren’t a short, swishy skirt covering the important bits. When Dan stretches their arms out, too, their unbuttoned flannel falls further open and shows off the cropped band tee underneath.

Most of Dan’s body is covered, really. Only their hands and neck and navel are out, but that’s enough to make Phil’s brain short-circuit. Their hands are distractingly big, but still so gentle when they pick Tofu back up; their neck is long and ends in either a sharp clavicle or a soft, rounded jawline; their tummy is soft like the rest of them and there’s a simple barbell piercing through their belly button that Phil has to force himself to look away from.

“Have you talked to your friends about us going back?” Dan asks, seemingly oblivious to the way Phil is taking them in from head to toe.

“What?” Phil bleats, and then his brain catches up to the conversation before Dan can repeat themself. “Oh, yeah. I texted them about it, and they’re a bit worried, but they’re glad you’re coming along. They were pretty nervous about me doing this alone.”

“PJ said you tend to do stupid shit,” Dan says bluntly. Tofu is climbing up their arms and biting at their hair, but they don’t even react.

“When did PJ say that?”

Dan’s lips curve into a smile. “When he drove me home. We talked about you.”

Normally, a statement like that would make Phil anxious. He still feels it, a bit, that creeping sense of frustration and nervousness that he associates with mild anxiety, but it’s more dull than it would be if Dan wasn’t smiling at him so softly. Something about it makes Phil certain that he’d get an honest answer if he asked what they all said about him.

That certainty and budding trust are enough to keep his loud anxiety at bay, and Phil finds that he doesn’t feel the need to ask.

Instead, he looks around Dan’s room some more. Pixel is still napping soundly, and Phil doesn’t blame her - the room is so quiet and dim and full of pleasing scents from the candles on Dan’s nightstand, Phil can easily imagine curling up somewhere soft in here and nodding off.

The furniture itself is crappy in the way that most students have to deal with, but Dan seems to have an eye for design that Phil has never had. Sure, there’s no bed frame to hold Dan’s mattress, but their duvet matches the monochrome colour scheme of the posters and paintings on the walls, and their pillows look welcoming surrounded by a small collection of stuffed animals. Their desk is organized, but their closet is open and spilling clothes onto the floor a bit. Phil wonders if that’s something Dan had planned on fixing before he got here, or if Dan doesn’t mind having their dresses and jeans and boots on display.

There’s barely any colour at all, really, but it doesn’t feel depressing like Phil would have thought it might.

That’s not exactly true. There’s some colour.

Phil must be looking at the flag on the wall for too long, because Dan makes a humming sort of noise and breaks the comfortable quiet. “I know it’s a bit tacky,” they say, “and it doesn’t match, but… I dunno. I wasn’t able to be out until I got to uni, and I might have gone a bit nuts with it.”

“Yeah,” says Phil. His throat is a bit dry. “I can understand that.”

“It makes me feel safe,” says Dan. Phil turns to look at them again, but he regrets it as soon as he sees the genuine emotion in Dan’s wide eyes. He isn’t good with that. “Like. Knowing I can have it hung here, that I can be open with people without them being upset with me or something. I don’t think the flag itself makes me feel safe? But maybe that’s not true, either. Maybe embracing that part of myself helped me embrace the community as a whole. I haven’t done Pride yet or anything. Maybe next year. But - safety. Comfort. Y’know?”

“I do,” Phil says quietly. “I do know.”

Dan’s eyes go sharp. Phil hasn’t seen them do that before, and it’s unnerving how much it feels like his very soul is under scrutiny. He wants to squirm away from that feeling, doesn’t want any part of himself under a microscope, but he doesn’t want to run like he might normally.

There’s another moment of quiet, where Dan looks at Phil and Phil doesn’t look away, but of course Phil is the first to break.

“Which of those is your favourite?” he asks instead of saying the words he knows Dan is waiting for. He doesn’t want to run, but that doesn’t mean he needs to be more forthcoming. At Dan’s furrowed brow, Phil gestures to the bookshelf. Dan has a lot of books and movies and boxsets and textbooks, more than Phil can take in all at once. “The, uh, the anime. My favourite’s Fullmetal Alchemist. Er, Brotherhood, not the first one, but both are good.”

For a second, it doesn’t seem like Dan is going to allow him to change the subject so easily. But then Tofu bites at their ear and they’re both giggling, the intensity of the moment slinking off to make way for casual conversation.

Talking to Dan is easier than talking to some people that Phil has known for years. They put on a show that they’ve both seen and enjoy and they chat the whole time. Phil points out camera and editing choices that Dan hadn’t put much thought to before, and Dan rambles about theories they’d seen on Reddit for so long that Pixel has become Phil’s best friend by the end of it. Dan makes food at some point, their brief absence allowing Phil to look more carefully at the titles on their shelves. They have even more to talk about when Dan gets back, because Phil has a lot of opinions on some of the quote-unquote ‘classics’ that Dan reads and Dan has some opinions on Phil picking the cheese off his sandwich. Phil almost forgets that he’s here for a specific reason, that they aren’t just friends hanging out, until Dan brings out their Polaroid and starts asking questions about what to expect on the haunt.

Phil kind of wishes they could just stay here.

Before they left, PJ, Sophie, and Chris had all drawn several Sharpie sigils on a thin piece of scrap fabric and insisted that Phil tie it around his wrist or something. He takes it out of his pocket as he and Dan approach the house.

“Here,” he says, pulling them to a stop and rolling their sleeve up a bit. He ignores their big doe eyes and wraps it around their knobby wrist a couple of times. “Is that too tight?”

“No,” says Dan. They stay still while Phil ties it, and then they raise their hand to inspect it.

“It’s from the gang,” says Phil. “I know it seems like the sigils didn’t help last time, but - well, I dunno. Maybe they did help and it was going to be a lot worse without them. Or maybe they just rubbed off our skin too quickly. But, y’know, I know you don’t believe in this stuff, it just… it makes us feel better. I thought it would be a good placebo for you if nothing else.”

Dan touches the fabric and then smiles, looking for all the world like Phil has given them something precious.

“Thank you,” they say, their voice altogether too sincere for Phil to respond to without some major awkwardness. “What about you?”

“Oh, I’m already wearing my thing,” Phil lies. “C’mon, let’s get inside.”

The thing is, Phil figures Dan is the one who needs protecting from whatever is going on in the Wilkins place. They’re the one who got attacked last time, while Phil only dealt with flickering lights and the feeling of being watched. The last thing he needs is for Dan to insist on coming along again only to get themself hurt again.

He’s not sure if Dan believes him or not, but it doesn’t matter. Phil is already shouldering the back door open. He could climb through the window again with a boost from Dan, but he doesn’t think he has enough upper-body strength to pull Dan up after him.

The kitchen is as dark and dusty as ever, but that smothering, creeping feeling of eyes in the walls isn’t present. Phil stands still for a few seconds, waiting for it to wash over him again, but in the end he’s in the same place he figured he’d be from the beginning - listening to the creaking sounds of a house with absolutely nothing supernatural about it. He’s weirdly disappointed, but he imagines that Dan must be relieved.

He turns to Dan to see what they think, but their eyes are just as wide as they’d been the last time.

“Hey,” Phil says, quiet so as not to disturb the dust. “You feel something?”

“No,” Dan admits. They move closer to Phil, twisting their fingers into the cuff of his jacket and holding tight. It’s sort of sweet how they think he might leave them alone in this house, but it’s also somewhat of a nuisance to have a large person attached to him while he’s trying to move quietly.

“Then what’s wrong? Do you need to leave?”

Dan shakes their head. Their teeth dig into their dark bottom lip, and even though they reapplied their lip product before leaving the house, it still ends up on their teeth a little bit. Phil isn’t sure if he’s supposed to point it out or not. “I don’t need to leave or anything, it’s fine. I’m fine. Coming with you was the whole point. I just don’t… okay. Promise not to laugh at me?”

“I think I promise,” says Phil. He gives Dan a reassuring little smile. “But if you break into song and dance or something I reserve the right to change my mind.”

“Shut up,” Dan says, but they’re giggling. “No, I just… I just don’t like the dark, okay?”

It clearly takes something out of Dan to admit that. Phil shifts his hand so he can squeeze Dan’s. “Nobody really likes the dark,” Phil says. “I mean, it’s kind of my job, so I’m used to it, but I wouldn’t mind being somewhere brightly-lit and clean instead.”

“Thanks.” Dan’s cheeks look a bit darker, but that might just be the low lighting. “You can lead the way.”

Nothing happens.

There are spiders and dark corners and once or twice a loud noise from outside makes Dan jump and grab at his hand again, but Phil never feels like anything more is going to happen. The walls don’t have anything behind them except maybe rats, and even the attic simply makes Phil sneeze.

It’s frustrating. It’s almost worse than the night that he put his friends in danger, because at least then he knew that he could have a chance at a decent video. Now, there’s nothing to record.

Phil finds himself wishing for a flickering light or a quick shadow. He wants something, anything, to make him feel like he’s doing something productive with his life.

Instead, he just feels like he’s wading deeper into the confusion and shadows of his own future. He doesn’t know where he’s going to go if he can’t keep going back to the darkness of abandoned houses and old cemeteries. He went to uni, sure, but he hasn’t had a ‘real’ job in his life. Unless a month at the stationery store counts. He’s pretty sure it doesn’t. He wouldn’t even know where to begin with figuring out what he ought to be doing with his life if he isn’t chasing ghosts, but he’s not having fun with this anymore.

He’s twenty-six. It’s not old, he’s not old. He’s got plenty of time to figure his life out.

But if he’s spent the last decade wasting all his free time on something that isn’t enjoyable anymore, then he doesn’t know if he’s going to be able to forgive himself.

Dan is in his personal space again, pressing close to avoid the encroaching darkness, and they smell like… lavender. Phil remembers spice and mint from them, and he wonders if they’re wearing some kind of perfume today. It’s such a feminine scent that it’s hard for him to wrap his mind around the fact that he wants.

Further and further into the waters he goes. He doesn’t know what comes next for any of it, and it’s terrifying.

“We could stay all night again,” Phil is protesting, even as Dan frogmarches him down the back steps. “I know we didn’t find anything, but maybe it only works when you’re trying to sleep over? I could -”

“You’ll do nothing,” says Dan. “We are both going home, and I’m seeing you onto the bus so you don’t sneak back without me.”

Phil wants to object, but Dan tightens their grip on his arms like they know exactly what he’s going to say. Besides, it would probably be a lie. Phil is stressed and frustrated and in over his head, and if he could just get one clip or photo of this thing, then maybe everything will be okay. Maybe he can keep doing this after all.

He gently detangles himself from Dan and sighs, hoisting his backpack up. “Fucking… fine.”

“Fucking fine,” Dan repeats, their lips twitching.

“Maybe the sigils worked too well,” says Phil. He keeps his tone level so that Dan won’t be able to tell that he’s joking right away, but Dan shoves at his shoulder like they’re well aware of what he’s doing. “You know, I bet -”

“You’re annoying when you can’t do what you want, huh?” Dan interrupts. Their hands are shoved in their jacket pockets, but Phil wishes they weren’t. He wishes he could brush his hand against theirs as they walk and convince himself that it’s all an accident. “Bet that’s the baby brother in you.”

“No comment.”

The walk to the bus stop is quieter than the last time Dan walked him to it, but it's not uncomfortable. Phil can’t believe how much he cares about this person already. They’re friends, he’s pretty sure, and it’s impossible to deny how much this crush is starting to get to him. Still. It’s new, Dan is new, and Phil has to consider the possibility that the novelty is all he’s feeling.

It’s not. But he has to consider it, because Phil has to consider every possibility before he makes his mind up about anything.

“Hey,” Phil says, careful not to sound like he’s pushing.

“Hi,” says Dan. Phil isn’t looking at them, but he can hear a grin in their voice.

“I was just wondering,” says Phil. “I mean, you don’t have to tell me if it’s a sore spot or anything like that, but. Your flatmate said you were called Winnie. Obviously I know you go by Winnie online, but I didn’t know you did it, uh, outside of cyberspace.”

“Cyberspace,” Dan repeats like they can’t help themself. “Yeah, sometimes. I usually use it like a test.”

“A test?”

Dan hums. Phil wishes, again, that their hands weren’t trapped in the confines of their jacket. “For people I might get closer to. I ask my flatmates to call me something that’s clearly not masculine and see how they react and how often they slip up. Maybe it’s mean, I guess, since I don’t actually care one way or the other, but it’s a lot easier for me to open up to people who have already proven that they’re able to think of me outside of the Daniel box.”

“I can call you Winnie,” Phil offers. “If that’s what you want to be called. And I’m not a complete idiot, I’m sure I could remember to call you Dan when I’m bothering you at work.”

“Planning on bothering me at work some more?” Dan asks. They don’t wait for an answer. “No, I like Dan fine. They’re both fine. They just serve me different purposes, I guess, and I’m not bothered by either of them.”

“I don’t totally get it,” Phil admits. “But I’ll do whatever you want.”

“I know.”

Suddenly, Dan is tangling their long fingers with Phil's. It’s just for a second, long enough for the same sort of reassuring squeeze that Phil gave to them in the Wilkins place, but it makes Phil’s heart jump into his throat.

“You’re, like, overly considerate,” says Dan. They sound like they’re teasing - Phil hopes they’re teasing. He really, really doesn’t want to mess this up.

“I just think you should be able to, like, tell me if I do something wrong.”

Dan laughs. “You’re not getting it. That’s okay, you don’t have to get it. I will tell you if you do something wrong, I just have a really wide range of things I’m indifferent about before you get to the things that matter. Call me a boy or a girl or whatever, I don’t care. Try to imply that my favourite Pokémon is fucking Goldeen, on the other hand -”

They ramble all the way to the stop, and Phil finds himself feeling better despite the fruitless hours of wandering a dusty house.

“This is me,” Phil says as he sees headlights coming down the street towards them.

“Message me tomorrow,” Dan insists. For a moment, they’re both just standing there. Phil has no idea what he’s supposed to do in this situation. Surely a handshake would be weird, but would a hug be weirder? Should he just pat their shoulder, or is that absolutely the creepiest thing he could do? They had both waved, yesterday, so maybe that’s what he ought to do again. His eyes drift to Dan’s mouth. The product is still mostly there, but there are indents where their front teeth have been digging all night that show the natural colour of their lips.

That’s not an option, Phil reminds himself with a little shake. He’s about to keep overthinking it when Dan wraps their arms around him and says something that sounds like a goodnight. They smell good, and they feel good, and the only thing that gets Phil stepping back is the sound of a bus stopping next to them.

“Bye,” he says, quiet. Dan’s smile is almost enough to make him miss this bus and wait for the next one.

#words words words #quiet on widow's peak

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hazinhoodies · 6 years ago

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October part 4

A/N: i had this ready for so long and decided to rewrite it last night and i didn’t proofread to the best of my abilities so im sorry. all parts are tagged under october fic

Warnings: none

Word count: 2k (the longest chapter so far at least)

Emma and Hannah talked for the rest of the night about anything they could. When no one spoke, they sat in a comfortable silence until it was broken with one of them sarcastically threatening the other or speaking with no provocation.

“Cough one more time and I’ll throw you in the lake” -Emma 9:34

“What do you think our pets name us?” -Hannah 9:57

“Thanks, I hate it” -Emma 10:22

“How confused do you think a lion would be if it saw an octopus?” -Hannah 10:49

“Frankenstein is oddly symmetrical” -Also Hannah

After the last one Emma finally looked up. “You know, it’s times like these when I wonder how we ever became friends’

“We were both lonely so we decided to be lonely together”

“Ah right, the greatest mistake of my life” Emma recalled. Hannah’s jaw dropped in shock

“Emma!”

“Okay okay i’m sorry” Emma couldn’t hold back her laughter “I should probably go, it’s getting late here” She glanced at the clock 11:52pm.

“Oh sure break my heart and run away why don’t you” Hannah spoke flatly before they said their goodbyes and hung up.

Emma hadn’t noticed how dark her room had actually become until Hannah had hung up. Her laptop providing the only light in the room. She quickly changed and got into bed, pulling the duvet up over her shoulders. She started to ponder the events of the day, almost definitely overthinking everything. How could you have already made him hate you.

Harrison lied awake in his bed, he’d been struggling to sleep for a while. The photo still etched into his brain. Did something happen? Was it just for a project? He’d never craved answers so much. If he could actually talk to her without making a fool of himself then maybe he’d get them. After about another hour and a glass of water, sleep finally took over.

A few days had passed and went pretty well. Emma had already figured out how to get around set, at least to the important parts; Her trailer, Toms trailer, Z’s, Jacob’s. The important ones. Her first interview of the day was Tony, she had to wait an hour or so for Z and Jacob to finish their next scene so she stayed in Tony’s trailer and talked with him.

They asked each other an abundance of questions. By the end of it Tony could have probably written her biography. Emma could have answered any questions you had about him. Favourite food? Favourite colour? She knows it.

“You and Tony got real close huh?” Z asked after her interview.

Emma shrugged “I guess so. I mean, he’s really nice and we had an hour to kill so we just.. Talked. Things just flowed. It was a nice change honestly”

‘Change from what?” Z looked over at her as Emma sighed. “Come sit here, we’re gonna be awhile” she patted the seat next to her and Emma sat down.

“A change from from what?” Zendaya repeated

“Holland and co” Emma paused “They're all super nice don’t get me wrong, Sam and I constantly. Just whenever Harrison is there things get kinda awkward”

Zendayas features soften, her voice filled with sympathy “He’s just like that sometimes I guess. Tom and him have been friends for years already. Just don’t take it to heart Em.” Emma nodded “Good. Now tonight you’re coming back to my hotel with me and we’re gonna talk got it? Great”

Emma chuckled “I see that i get no say in this whatsoever”

Zendaya shook her head “None at all”

Once Z wrapped, her driver drove both of them back to her hotel, which was significantly larger than Emmas.

“Okay important stuff first” Zendaya starts as soon as the door shuts behind them. “Hogwarts house. Favourite musical. Favourite band or artist or whatever” she counts them off on her fingers as she speaks.

Emma smiled “Ravenclaw, les mis or grease, probably Bowie”

“Bowie, really?” Zendaya echoed as they sat down on the couch, Emma nodded

“Yeah or maybe the Beatles” Zendaya looked shocked “What do you think i only ever listen to orchestra music?”

“No just didn’t picture you as a classic rock fan”

“I’m just full of surprises” Emma spoke sarcastically.

“Okay well I still know nothing about you and that seems kind of unfair considering you could google everything about me. So tell me stuff” Z leaned in closer, whispering the last sentence

“How personal do you want me to get?” Emma asked

“As much as your comfortable with” Z explained.

“I mean if were going all the way back I lived with my mom growing up, bout an hour outside of Toronto, never really knew my dad. I have a few vague memories but he left when I was six so they aren’t much. I’ve always been pretty music-oriented and my family never knew where I got it from. They were all science and math people My best friend, Hannah, we met when we were 7 at a youth band thing and have been stuck together since. We did everything together. We actually both graduated early and applied to the same universities but she stayed in the city to do musical neuroscience and I moved six hours away for performance music and then switched into composition” Emma ended.

“What about like dating and stuff? There's no way you’ve never had a boyfriend” Z leaned back, resting her elbow on the back of the couch, holding her head up.

“I dated the same guy for all four years of high school and into uni” Zendaya’s eyes went wide “Yeah it was really good at first but around the end of my junior year it got ugly. But we’d been dating so long I was almost convinced that it was normal. Once I got into university it got really bad and that’s when I came to my senses” Emma spoke calmly. Something about Z made her easy to trust.

The rest of the night went by quickly. They talked, ordered food, and watched Brooklyn Nine-Nine for the rest of the night.

The next two weeks on set went by pretty much the same. When Emma wasn’t doing post-scene interviews, she was in either Toms, Zs or Tony’s trailer. She had become pretty close with some more of the cast, particularly Jacob and Remy, definitely the most comfortable with Tony though. She’d grown pretty close with Sam and Harry. Even becoming closer with Harrison. To the point were the two of them plus Sam watched the dark knight rises in Tom’s trailer after Emma had admitted to never having seen it. Even still, it was always fleeting gazes or staring way too long with both of them, neither approaching the other unless someone else was there, and still, they were all stutters and flushed cheeks.

Emma had not had a good morning so far. It was Michael’s last day on set for a while so it was going to be only her now. Of course the first day without Michael and she woke up late and couldn’t get her coffee maker to work and found that the pants she’d planned on wearing, she hadn’t packed. Instead opting for a black skirt and a yellow top with the same pair of ankle boots as always, her hair pulled into a ponytail. Michael had gone in early so the drive to set was just Iris and Emma. It was slightly awkward, normally Michael would be the one to speak up and start conversations but without him there it was silent. The only good part of her morning so far, had been Iris offering to stop and get coffee when Emma told her of her morning so far.

Once she was out of the car, Emma started towards her and Michaels trailer, coffee in hand and her bag on her back. She felt her phone start to ring and pulled it out of the waistband of her skirt and with one hand, answered it holding it up to her ear

“Oh perfect you answered” Michael started, not even giving emma time to say hello “I have some stuff for you to listen to once you get here. I’d really like your input”

“Okay. Iris just dropped me off I’ll be there in like two minutes” Emma found herself walking in between the abundance of trailers.

“Great. You remember which one right?”

“Yes of course I do Michael, it’s been two weeks. I’ll be fine. Bye”

“Okay well just text if you get lost. Bye now”

Emma pushed her phone back into her waistband. She looked up, but not soon enough to avoid the chest she walked straight into, the other person also on their phone.

Harrison

Emma stumbled back, dropping her pretty much full coffee on the ground. Harrisons hands immediately went to her waist to stabilize her, feeling her stiffen underneath his touch.

“Sorry about that, I should’ve been paying more attention” Emma looked up at Harrison. He was easily six inches taller than her. Everything she’d worried about during the very first interview had come true. She wasn’t able to look away now. She noticed the smallest details about him that she hadn’t before. Like the way his eyes got more green towards the outside, or the light stubble along his jaw, or how his cheeks seemed slightly more pink than normal.

“It’s alright darling, just watch out next time, yeah?” Harrison gave a small smile and Emma nodded. They were both lost in each other for a few moments. As if they were trying to memorize every detail of the other. Like the faint freckles scattered across her nose and cheeks.

Darling? It had rolled so easily off his lips, he hadn’t even noticed he said it.

It took a minute before Harrison realized how close they really were. He reluctantly pulled his hands away from her waist. As he did Emma broke their eye contact and took a step back, bending down to pick up the fallen cup.

“Ill uh.. I’ll buy you a new one” Harrison spoke, Emma looked up at him as she stood.

“No no you don’t have to really” She shook her head “It’s just a coffee. It’s not a big deal” They stood there for a moment, neither speaking, Harrisons hands in his pockets as Emma’s fiddled with the now empty cup “I should uh” Emma wet her lips quickly “I should get going” she barely looked up as the both nodded and she walked towards the trailer.

Once she was inside she threw out the cup and grabbed a paper towel to wipe off the drops of coffee that had bounced up onto her legs. She placed her stuff on her desk and dragged her chair over to Michaels desk.

“You wanted me to listen to something?” she said as she sat down

“Yeah yeah give me one second” he said placing a few final notes in the composition program before hitting play on the theme he had written so far for the movie. After about four minutes, what he has so far ends. He looks towards Emma with a questioning glance “So?

“I uh It’s amazing obviously but.. I think it should have less to do with that triumphant superhero stuff you’ve got going on and more towards Peters loyalty and concern for his friends. I definitely wouldn’t scrap this though, maybe just not for the scene you’ve got it for” Michael nods as Emma speaks. Adding little “hm”s and “okay”s here and there.

“How about this. I want you to write it for this scene” Emma’s eyes widen in shock.

“Waitwaitwait you- I- you want me to write part of the score?” Emma barely stutters out

“Well yeah. Your name doesn’t get put in the credits unless you actually write something because technically you work for me not marvel and I want you name in there as badly as you probably do. So if you write something, you get credit.” Michael looks over at Emma, her jaw dropped. “I’ll take that as yes but Emma you’re going to catch flies. I have a meeting to go to now but you know what to do” Michael grabbed his bag and left.

Heres some writers that let me tag them :)

@cherryhollands @darlintom @starksparker @starksmile @hollandroos @marvelellie @dej-okay @h-osterfield @upsidedownparker

Taglist: @rainbow-marvel (thanks :))

#Harrison osterfield #harrison x oc #harrison osterfield x oc #haz osterfield #haz osterfield x oc #haz x oc #haz #october fic

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