#the specter one took long because I really wanted to use that flower frame and forced my hand to practice cross hatching

[eternal-reverie]

so this is kinda extra but for my fic notes binder I decided to make covers for each section and this is what I came up with this past weekend when I should’ve been compiling the actual notes for printing OTL

and soon I need to come up with cover sheets for these last two sections. For the inspiration one maybe something light related or a key? tbh I’m tempted to just put a picture of Brain for that last section.

[novelconcepts]

fic wanting (more than any ghost could)

“Do you still see him?”

Dani raises her eyes from the polished brass frame she’s been trying to pretend for half an hour not to gaze into. “What?”

Jamie isn’t looking at her. Jamie is, in fact, half in their closet, fumbling to hang up an assortment of shirts that have invaded the floor over the past week. Her voice is casual, easy, a little too cheerful for the kind of day they’ve been having. 

“Do you still see Eddie?”

Something in Dani’s chest clenches at the name. She doesn’t hate hearing it anymore--Jamie’s helped with that more than even she can know, coaxing stories out of Dani over the years to turn Eddie into a memory she can bear carrying around instead of a sharp knife between her ribs--but there’s something about the way Jamie says it now. Like she’s trying to get at something Dani can’t see yet. 

“No,” she says, a bit more clipped than usual. “I haven’t seen him in years.”

“Since that night,” Jamie presses. “Yeah? Only, I figure you would have said something otherwise. If you’d seen him after that, I figure you would have mentioned it. Or done your scary-bug routine.”

Dani clenches her fists in her lap. “What are you getting at, Jamie?”

“Nothing,” Jamie says, her voice entirely too innocent. Dani clears her throat, a Teacher gesture she hasn’t had to use on actual children in years. 

“Why don’t I believe you?”

“Because--” At this, Jamie pokes her head back out of the closet, grinning. “You are having what the songs call a rainy sort of Monday.”

Dani makes a face at her. Fact of the matter is, every day has felt like a rainy sort of Monday for the last week or two. She’s been steady too long, she fears, easy in her skin for years more than she thought she’d be allowed. Four, five, six Christmases have come and gone--four, five, six birthdays--four, five, six years of setting tables and arranging flowers and kissing Jamie goodnight and good morning and good I just felt like it along the way. 

And now, things are stirring. Changing. It’s a slow motion wake-up call, nothing so reliable as to make her stomach clench up every time she sees a reflection of blonde hair and mismatched eyes...but she’s getting there. Getting to the point of wanting to cover every mirror in the house again, getting back to that old habit of letting her eyes slide out of focus when she passes shop windows and too-clean city buses. The Lady isn’t always there, but Dani can’t guess when she’ll appear, and that’s somehow the worst bit. The not knowing. 

“Jamie,” she says. “Seriously, what are you getting at?”

“Okay.” She backs out of the closet, clicks off the light, shuts the door. “Okay, this is going to sound a bit out there.”

“Like nothing else in our life,” Dani drawls, watching Jamie move across the small room to settle beside her on the mattress. Her face is alight with something not-quite excitement, not-quite pleasure. It’s Jamie’s thinking face, Dani realizes. Jamie’s idea face. 

Usually, this is the face that results in furniture moved around the apartment for a new look, or a spur of the moment trip out of state to see the ocean, or an incredibly poor new dining experiment that will absolutely result in ordering takeout and eating on the living room floor at ten in the evening. 

“How did you get rid of him?” Jamie asks. Dani bites her lip. 

“I--”

“You never told me,” Jamie presses. “Not really. You just showed up a few days later with a cup of the worst coffee England’s ever seen and a promise that you were ready. And you were, and I’m never gonna stop being grateful for it, but you never told me what happened. How’d you go from flinching away to never seeing the specter of Ex-Boyfriends Past again?”

Dani shifts, gripping the material of her shirt in both hands. “It’s...hard to explain.”

“Can be patient,” Jamie says easily, like she’s ever anything less when it comes to things like this. She moves across the mattress in an easy prowl, settling with her knees touching Dani’s like they’re just two kids at a sleepover, ready for a spooky story. 

Two kids at a sleepover, Dani thinks with a wry amusement, except the way I feel the second her knee touches mine would never fly at a Clayton House Function. Mom would be scandalized. 

“It was a weird night,” she says slowly, remembering. Her eyes flutter closed, her memory reaching out across a gulf of half a decade. Who had she been that night? Scared. Always so scared back then, but also...determined. A little drunk. Maybe more than a little. “I was thinking...I was thinking about you. About you and me, and that...”

“Kiss,” Jamie supplies, when she falters. Dani knows they’re both remembering now, how Jamie had asked if she was ready and how she’d been nodding even before she could process the question. She was ready, for Jamie, and she wasn’t, for what it would mean. 

“It was a good kiss,” Dani says, smiling a little. Sloppy, and a little chaotic, their mouths slipping and missing and locating again as the wine steered the bus. She still remembers how sturdy Jamie’s jacket felt in her fists, how steady Jamie’s hands somehow were in her hair, on her back, pulling her so close she’d thought for a minute they’d be allowed something precious and sacred and theirs on a night she had spent lost in darkness. 

“It was,” Jamie agrees. Her hands move across the divide between them, closing over Dani’s wrists, turning her palms upright. “And?”

“And I wanted it. That. You. And I knew if I didn’t deal with the rest of it, finally, I wasn’t going to get another chance. You looked so...” Broken. “Certain, when you walked away that night, that I wasn’t ready. And you were never going to push.”

Jamie makes a little humming sound, fingertip tracing Dani’s lifeline. She shivers, flexes her fingers, smiles. 

“Hard to think when you’re doing that.”

“Do it anyway,” Jamie coaxes. Dani closes her eyes again, tighter. 

“I was drunk, and I was--”

“Riled up?” Jamie suggests, laughter in her voice. Dani flips over one hand, smacks her knee lightly. 

“If you want the story, stop talking. Yes. Riled up. And angry, if I’m honest. Angry at him, and angry at myself for not being able to let him go.”

She’d been so tired, she remembers. So tired, the way a person gets when sleep is just a parade of memories best left in the dark. The way a person gets when every smile is a mask, every laugh is a reprieve, every touch of another person’s hand is electric and painful and too much to stand. 

“So, I took his glasses. And I went out to the fire. Hannah had left it...I guess, Hannah was dealing with her own stuff that night. It hadn’t occurred to me to worry. It was just me, and him, and I threw them in. I didn’t want them, you know. Tried to tell his mom that, but Judy was...” Kind. Tried. Never quite ready to see what was right in front of her. “Anyway. I tossed them in, and I watched them melt, and it was the last time I ever saw him.”

“Because?”

“Because I was ready,” Dani says, a bit helplessly, feeling unmoored by the combined distance of memory and the solidness of Jamie holding her hand. She’s on the bow of a ship, she feels, shifting her weight in a search for balance, and if either the past or the present are to push just a little harder, she thinks she’ll go over the side. 

“Because you were ready,” Jamie agrees. “Not to carry that weight anymore. Because you wanted something more. Something that would make you happy. Dani...are you happy? Right now?”

It’s a bucket of ice water, and Dani sits up straighter. Her chest aches. “Yes,” she breathes. “With you, yes.”

Jamie smiles. “I’m not asking for that. Not really. I mean...are you happy. These last few weeks, you’ve been...I don’t want to say slipping away. I don’t want to say it, ‘cuz I know where you’ll go with a thought like that, but...”

But I have been, Dani thinks. Because I can see her, Jamie. Not all the time. But enough to not know whose face will be in the mirror each morning. 

“So, I was thinking. The last time you carried something like this, it was him. And you got rid of him. Never saw him again. Banished him, some might say.” Jamie shifts a little, like she’s actually getting nervous. Dani hasn’t seen her nervous in years, not since setting a single flower on a countertop and saying, I’ve got a problem. Or rather, we’ve got a problem, Poppins.

“Jamie--”

“So, I was thinking,” Jamie repeats. “If you could get rid of something that big, something that weighed that heavy, and you could do it because...because of...”

“You,” Dani supplies, knowing this is a step too far even for Jamie’s grinning sense of accomplishment. Knowing Jamie needs her to fill in the spaces sometimes, to remind her the way she’s always reminding Dani, that she is the most important person in Dani’s world. “Because I wanted you.”

“Yeah,” Jamie says, relief flooding her face. “Yeah, me. So...why don’t we try it again?”

“Try...”

“Banishing,” Jamie says. She’s starting to lean forward, a little-kid excitement roiling up through her small frame. “Banishing the beast. You and me. You don’t have to do it on your own, Dani. You know that? We can work together.”

Dani’s mouth opens and closes. “I don’t...I let her in, Jamie. Me. I invited her.”

“Yeah,” Jamie says gently, “but the way I see it, you invited him, too. In a way. You felt responsible for his death, and you carried that all the way across the pond, and you let it sit like a stone on your chest for months. Until you decided not to anymore.”

“So...you’re saying you think I can just decide to let her go, too?” She’s not sure she likes this conversation, where it’s headed, what it implies. Jamie shakes her head aggressively, curls flopping around her face. 

“No, no, Poppins. Listen. What I’m saying is, I think we can make her let go. Together.” Jamie curls her fingers tighter around Dani’s, thumb playing reflexively across her knuckles. “Like last time. You know.”

They sit for a long stretch in silence, Dani mulling it over, Jamie just watching her with a sweet nervousness in her eyes. She looks like maybe this was the kind of idea that appears in the middle of the night, out of a dream, and when you wake up and try to pass it along to someone else, all the logic falls right out of the bottom.

“Let me...get this right,” Dani says slowly. “You think...we can banish the Lady of the Lake...from being attached to my soul...like last time. When we...”

“Wanted each other more than any ghost could want you,” Jamie affirms. She looks a little embarrassed, but with that solid marching-on expression Dani knows they both get when they’re determined to set something right. Her lips curl upward at the corners almost against her will, looking at Jamie with that expression on her face. 

“That is the silliest thing I’ve ever heard, Jamie.”

“Yeah,” Jamie says, rising up on her knees, hand sliding up Dani’s wrist, up her arm, cupping under her elbow as she guides Dani to hold her around the waist. “Yeah, it is. But it was silly last time, too. To think you could want me enough to let go of him.”

“I did,” Dani says, a lump rising in her throat. “God, I really did.”

“And now?” Jamie’s hand, trembling around her elbow. Jamie’s face, inches from her own. Something seems to release in Dani’s chest, something warm and spring-loaded and impossible to put back once it’s loose. 

“I...can’t think of anything I want more,” she says hoarsely, honestly, and then Jamie is kissing her and she can’t think of anything else. 

***

It is, far and away, the most insane idea they’ve ever had. More insane than America, more insane than a flower shop, more insane than putting one foot in front of the other despite knowing a clock was running down in the background. 

And it’s the best Dani has felt in weeks. 

There is a difference, she thinks, between living your life with a timer going and living your life actively trying to stop that timer. She’s never considered the latter before. If she’s honest with herself, she’s been living on Jamie’s philosophy of Borrowed Time ever since leaving Bly--that life is organic, that everything which begins is doomed to end, and that the beauty is in the ending. It’s a good philosophy for parties, a good thing to say to people to make yourself look enlightened and stable. 

It is ever so less enlightened, to admit to anyone over a glass of wine that she is now desperately trying to remove a ghost via sheer force of desire for her forever person. 

And, yet...

“This,” she mumbles against Jamie’s neck, “is still the most insane thing we’ve ever done.”

“The part with the ghost,” Jamie pants, “or the part where we’re performing an exorcism via sex?”

Dani raises her head, eyebrows arched. “All of it? Jamie. All of it.”

They’ve made it through the majority of a day with hands to themselves, if only because a shop you own is less likely to stay afloat if you spend the entire day groping your girlfriend behind the counter...but it’s not like Jamie has been making it easy on her. She’s got this way of being exactly where Dani wants her, exactly when Dani wants her, and still holding herself just out of reach. All day, it’s been Jamie shifting past with hands on Dani’s hips, Jamie’s fingers brushing hers as they work together on an arrangement, Jamie standing just behind her, pretending she can’t feel the way the breath pulls up through Dani’s body until her heart is pounding. 

“You’re rude,” she says now, pushing Jamie harder against the back room door. “You know that about yourself, right?”

“I’ve just been doing my job,” Jamie says, mock-innocently. “Just going about my business as usual, Poppins. Really thought we’d be able to wait until we got home--you know, like proper adults.”

Dani makes an undignified noise through her nose, grasping Jamie’s collar in one hand and holding her by the hip with the other. Jamie's grin is just a touch more smug than Dani feels capable of looking at without spinning apart. 

“You made this bed,” she says, and ducks her head to bite at Jamie’s earlobe. It’s a bed Jamie made three nights ago, kissing her senseless and promising the unkeepable promise: that they’ll be able to do this together, that they’ll be able to unwind the hold the Lady has on her through force of sheer combined will. It’s insane to think about. It’s insane to even consider. You can’t exorcise a demon through sex. 

“And yet,” Jamie says in a raw voice, head thrown back, hands clutching at Dani’s shirt, “I can’t find it in myself to show proper remorse, with you doing that.”

Dani laughs against her skin, and it is unreal how solid she feels with Jamie in her arms. There was peace in their life before, peace and passion and the kind of love that seems only to expand with the stars, but this is different. This is a feeling of being filled-in, of color spreading up through the outline of her life in layers. This is...

Deciding to fight, Dani realizes, as Jamie’s mouth takes hers, Jamie’s hands sliding up under her shirt to explore. Deciding to fight and maybe even beat her at her own game. 

“If this works,” she says, the words half a moan when Jamie’s hand works open the clasp of her bra. “If this works, you’re going to be insufferable, aren’t you?”

“More attractive, you mean,” Jamie sighs. Her shirt is half-unbuttoned. Jamie’s hips are searching for contact, rocking lightly, trying to coax Dani into touching her. “Okay, hey, you started this--” “You started it,” Dani replies, “when you rubbed up against me for like two straight minutes out front.”

“I was adjusting the racks.”

“Reaching around me to do it?”

“You happened to be in the way.”

They’re both laughing, kissing around the smiles, Dani holding Jamie steady to keep her from taking control. It makes Jamie crazy when she does this, she knows; they’re both of a similar mind on taking the lead, two people who spent their lives trying desperately to set their own pace in the world, and who have since learned to fall into step with one another. Jamie laughingly refers to it as “mutual big spoon energy”, how neither of them is particularly good at letting the other take the lead or fall behind. They spend much of their life walking side by side, in perfect tandem. It’s unlike anything Dani has ever been a part of before.

Which makes moments like this--grabbing Jamie’s wrists, pinning them above her head with one hand, forcing her to lean back and let Dani steer--all the more delicious. It is, in a way, the only time Dani feels entirely in control of her life. Moments like this, with Jamie making a strange little growling sound at the back of her throat, with Jamie trying to buck against the hand that is leisurely working its way down her body, feel so steady. 

“If you’re going to be a tease,” Jamie begins, and Dani kisses her hard enough to elicit a whimper. Jamie, who pretends she doesn’t love it, seems to go boneless between her body and the door. Her fingers flex above her head, her voice panting out of her when Dani slips a thigh between her legs and presses up. 

She lets Jamie shift her weight, lets her join in at a slow pace, until they’re moving more or less in perfect sync. Jamie’s head rocks back against the door, and Dani releases her hands to cup behind her skull, fingers digging into thick hair and keeping her from doing actual damage. 

She’s not thinking about ghosts or promises or anything except the rhythm they’ve set between them, riding out the pressure of Jamie against her until she’s shuddering and gasping into Jamie’s throat. She’s not thinking about ticking clocks or how much time anyone can possibly expect, not with the unbound way Jamie grips her hips and pulls, pulls, pulls her harder against Jamie’s bucking. 

“Remind me,” Jamie pants, eyes rolling back in her head as she struggles to find breath, “never to hire additional help. Having this room to ourselves is the best investment we’ve ever made.”

***

It doesn’t banish the Lady in the first week, and Dani is trying desperately not to be disappointed. It wasn’t likely--it isn’t likely to work at all, she reminds herself--to get the job done right away. This isn’t the same kind of possession, not the same kind of ghost, and if there's one thing her too-real dreams have taught her about Viola Lloyd, it’s that the woman was designed stubborn. 

Still, the first time she turns around and catches a smooth-faced glimpse in the bathroom mirror, all the strength goes out of her legs. 

“What?” Jamie asks, summoned by the high-pitched intake of air Dani hadn’t realized she’d made. She’s half-dressed for a day of not much of anything, cropped shirt and underwear and a bewildered expression. Dani leans her weight against the counter, covering her eyes with one hand. 

“Nothing. Just--”

“Her?” Jamie slides into the space beside her, peering into the glass. She tries so hard, Dani thinks with a stab of frustrated gratitude. She tries so hard to see what Dani can’t look away from, and all she ever comes up with is that hard, searching look going nowhere. 

“It’s silly. It was silly to think--”

“Hey,” Jamie says, catching her with a soft grip around the shoulders. “I know you’re not giving up so easy. We’ve only been trying for a couple of days.”

Dani can’t help the shaky laugh that puffs out against Jamie’s cheek when she pulls her in for a hug. “You sound like a husband reassuring his wife that there’s still time to make a baby.”

Jamie makes a perturbed noise. “I cannot think of a less appropriate analogy for our situation than a little monster coming into our world--”

Dani smacks her chest, still laughing. “So you’re saying no kids, then?”

A very specific sort of paleness seeps into Jamie’s already-fair skin. “Wait, d’you want--’cuz we’ve never talked about--how we’d even--”

“I’m kidding,” Dani says quickly, unable to commit to the cruelty of letting this particular joke linger. Of all she’s thought about in her time with Jamie, of all the mad, wonderful ideas that have sparked off at odd hours of the night, children are not one of them. Kids are complicated at the best of times, and she loves them--loves being able to listen, and help, and teach them to be the kinds of adults the world needs--but they can’t even get married. Can’t even walk in public hand in hand, like she so desperately needs sometimes. Kids are so far off her radar, it’s surprising they’ve come up at all.

Jamie, for her part, looks relieved. “I love you,” she says. “So much. But thank Christ for that, because can you imagine me raising a kid?”

“Yes,” Dani says honestly, remembering in perfect tandem Jamie’s meltdown over tattered flowers and Jamie’s strong arms lifting a sleeping Flora into the air. She’d be good at it, in her own way, if it was something they both wanted--but it feels better this way. Just the two of them. Just the two of them, and...

“So she’s still in there,” Jamie says, switching subjects with obvious relief. Her finger presses very gently to the center of Dani’s forehead. “Took you by a bit of a shock, I take it.”

Dani sighs. “I just...hoped it’d be...”

“Quick and dirty?” Jamie wiggles her eyebrows. Her hands are sliding around to rest on the back of Dani’s skirt, giving a gentle squeeze that makes Dani jump. 

“It was with him,” she says, trying to keep her composure. Jamie’s eyebrows rise even higher, and she flushes. “No, I--the banishment, I mean. Just one night. That’s all it took.”

“Maybe I’m losing my touch,” Jamie muses. She leans in, brushes her mouth against the corner of Dani’s frown. “Maybe I’m just not working hard enough...”

“I don’t--think that’s--” It’s hard to think at all, hard to keep the words in her head, with Jamie kissing a slow path: cheekbone, underside of her jaw, hollow of her throat. Her back to the mirror, Dani closes her eyes. “Jamie, aren’t we going to be late for something?”

“Movies come,” Jamie says in a low, careless voice, “and movies go. We can catch a late showing...”

She’s sinking lower, one hand resting on the small of Dani’s back, nipping gently through the fabric of a thin t-shirt. Dani sighs, letting her hands drop to rest on the counter for balance as Jamie drops to her knees, kissing along her belly, her hips, teasing the skirt up and ducking her head beneath its hem. 

That they don’t even have to talk about it, Dani thinks distantly, white-knuckling the counter as Jamie moves in along her thighs with soft bites soothed instantly by hot licks. That they don’t even have to have these conversations most days, is a wonder. She can feel it in the air when Jamie’s in the mood, can read it on every line of her body when she isn’t. The are you sure’s are still there, resting comfortably between them, but it’s like a dance they’ve choreographed together by now. 

She inhales as Jamie presses a kiss between her legs, as a soft tongue moves against the damp fabric of underwear she hasn’t gotten around to removing just yet, and there’s nothing in the world she wouldn’t give up to keep hold of this. Nothing in the world she wouldn’t sell, burn, barter away if it meant more days with Jamie, more of Jamie on her knees on the bathroom rug with hands cradling the backs of her thighs and soft groans vibrating up through her skin. 

She lets her head fall back, lets her hips go as Jamie eases away the last boundary between them, and just concentrates on riding higher, higher, far away from a world where memory can burn and surprises hide behind innocent reflections. When Jamie slides tongue into heat, she jerks once, twice, releases everything. 

“Maybe,” Jamie says, leaning back on her haunches and wiping the back of her hand across her lips. “Maybe that did the trick.”

Dani laughs, but can’t quite convince herself to look over her shoulder. It’s too good, too nice, too perfect letting the weakness of her knees carry her to the floor where she straddles Jamie’s hips and kisses her. No point ruining it by looking back. 

***

Days pass without a sign of the Lady, and Dani finds herself initiating contact more and more, hands searching Jamie out at all hours. Sometimes, she’ll just come up behind Jamie in the kitchen, arms around Jamie’s middle, and stay there while Jamie chops and preps and boils water. Sometimes, she’ll find Jamie reading on the couch and slide between her and the back cushions, head on Jamie’s chest, letting the slow rum-pum of her heart lull her into a daze. It’s everything with Jamie that makes the world a stable place, she thinks, every inch of Jamie’s calm nature, Jamie’s bad jokes, Jamie’s kiss on her temple as she passes on the way to the bathroom. 

When Jamie has to leave for a weekend conference, a one-person-ticket event they’d decided months ago would be best suited if the person who actually understood the ins and outs of growing plants attended, Dani feels like she’s walking through a dream. She sits on the edge of their bed, watching Jamie hold a series of nearly-identical jeans and flannel shirts up to her body and discard them onto a nearby chair. 

“You’re sure?” Jamie asks for the fiftieth time that day. “You’re sure you’re all right with me going?”

“Yes,” Dani’s mouth answers automatically. No, she thinks. Every time, the same response. 

“Only, I don’t have to,” Jamie presses, looking over her shoulder. “I could call out sick--”

“It’s the best chance we have of the sale prices,” Dani says, like reading a script she’s been going over for a year. “And you said it yourself, networking is everything for a small business in its infancy...”

“That was early days,” Jamie protests, abandoning a shirt and crossing to the bed. “We’ve done all right for ourselves since, and I could...”

Dani wraps arms around her waist, leaning her face against Jamie’s shirtfront and sighing. “I’d be lying if I said I was excited about a weekend alone,” she says. Jamie’s hands rest on the back of her head, sifting through her ponytail in soft, easy strokes. It’s almost enough to lull her to sleep sitting up. 

“I’m just...what if...” Jamie stops herself short. Dani looks up, mouth twisting in a parody of a smile. 

“What if the Lady comes while you’re away?”

“I don’t like it,” Jamie says. “I don’t like risking it. You’ve seemed better lately, less...”

“Flinchy?” Dani suggests, suddenly bone-tired. “She hasn’t been sneaking up as much.”

“Right. But isn’t that because--”

“We don’t know what causes it,” Dani says, trying to convince them both with a single shot. “We don’t know if she’s been absent because of dumb luck, or because she doesn't feel like coming out to play, or because--”

“Or because it’s my bloody presence helping scare her off,” Jamie says, so fiercely, Dani reaches up to press a hand to her heart. Her face is set in perfect determination, and Dani thinks with certainty that this has ceased to be a joke in Jamie’s mind, a game to help keep Dani’s off of the fear. She believes, on some level, that she’s been doing actual good for Dani’s fight with the beast in the jungle, that it’s her hands and her mouth and her steadiness that’s kept Dani safe--safer--these past weeks. 

Dani can’t say for sure that she’s wrong, if she’s honest with herself. The Lady is still there; she can feel her, lurking, watching. But it’s getting...different. Maybe because Dani just feels better, and when her head is clear, when the sun is out, when Jamie’s hands are on her skin, it’s easy to convince herself that only children get scared of the dark. 

Maybe. Or maybe there really is something to be said about this battle of wills. Of the Lady’s need coming up against Dani’s own hungers. 

“I don’t want you to go,” she says, and is pleasantly surprised at how firm her voice is. She pulls at Jamie, guiding her down until they’re laying face to face atop the blankets. She wraps a leg around Jamie, pulls her closer, kisses her gently until the line between Jamie’s brows smooths out. 

“So, it’s settled, then,” Jamie breathes against her lips. “I’ll just ring ‘em up and--”

“I don’t want you to go,” Dani repeats, hand smoothly working the button of Jamie’s jeans open. She kisses her again, open and warm, letting her tongue curl around Jamie’s sigh, and adds, “But I’ll be all right. For two days. Two days missing you. Imagine what that’ll do...”

She likes the way Jamie folds into her, the way Jamie’s skin flushes beneath the tips of her fingers as she slides a hand down and curls gently against damp heat. She moves, fingers rubbing circles that make Jamie squirm and writhe and reach down to clasp her around the wrist. 

“You’ll go,” she says softly against Jamie’s lips, the words half-muffled and entirely unimportant, as Jamie holds her wrist and guides her deeper. “And I’ll be here. Thinking about you getting back. It’s you that keeps me grounded, Jamie, but it’s this, too. The wanting.”

Jamie makes a noise, small, like she’s trying to contain herself. Dani doesn’t think she’s even arguing anymore, not really. 

“It was like that,” she says, letting the words turn into a groan when Jamie clenches around her. “That night. It was the wanting of you. Of being with you, of being happy with you. It was wanting to let it all go so I could taste this. What being happy really was.”

There’s only so much room, Jamie’s jeans too tight, but she can move enough to twist her fingers, to press her thumb down as she thrusts in, out, in. Jamie kisses her with no grace whatsoever, presses until her forehead is flush with Dani’s, sweat beading on her skin as she tips over on Dani’s command. 

“You’re sure,” Jamie says, when she’s recovered herself enough to speak. “You’re really sure?”

No, she isn’t sure. Dani hasn’t been sure of anything regarding her unwanted anchor, not since taking the Lady in that night. But she feels...something in her chest, something solid and more certain than she’s used to, nodding in agreement all the same. 

She kisses Jamie, lets Jamie take her hand and kiss each finger clean, lets Jamie roll her over and clear away the clothes and the cobwebs of worry in practiced motions. With Jamie pulling the sheets over them, she feels safer than anywhere else in the world. 

“Just come home to me,” she breathes when Jamie touches her. “Just promise you’ll always come home.”

***

Jamie, of course, keeps that promise. Jamie, for someone who doesn’t like to make many, keeps promises better than anyone Dani’s ever met. She calls when she makes it to the hotel Friday afternoon, calls again each night after the conference lets out, sits on the phone until Dani falls asleep. 

The rest of the weekend feels foggy to Dani, like someone has wrapped their apartment in a thin gray smoke. She tries to keep busy, but her attention is variable at best; a book, a puzzle, a movie can only hold her for patches of minutes at a time until she bounces to her feet and goes off in search of the next distraction.

She spends all of Saturday on old habits, keeping her head resolutely turned away from the mirror whenever she needs the bathroom, refusing to give the Lady the satisfaction of a glance. 

Sunday, the restless energy pools until she can’t stand it anymore. She takes a long walk in the summer heat, humidity pulling at her clothes, the sun baking itself into her hair. She wishes Jamie were there, pointing out dogs and laughing at kids. 

Sweat soaks into her clothes, and she heads straight for a shower upon returning home. Her eyes fixate on the towel, the clean pajamas piled on the counter, the row of neat bottles on the shower rack. She lets the water heat until the room is bathed in steam, and then, only then, does she turn to the mirror. 

Blonde hair, serious frown, one blue eye, one brown, staring back at her. What Jamie sees whenever she joins Dani at the mirror, and nothing else. Nothing more. She leans her weight on her elbows, staring her own reflection down. She keeps expecting something to jump out at her--a perfectly smooth face, dark hair stringy around a white nightgown--but, no. 

Here’s Dani Clayton, she thinks with a rebellious little laugh. She’s a bit of a weirdo, but she’s a lot stronger than she thinks. 

Jamie knew her so well, even then. Jamie, seeing straight to the heart of the matter without even being asked to look. Jamie has always been so good that way, so capable of reading Dani at the most unexpected moments. Eddie wasn’t like that. Eddie’s mother, her own mother, her old friends--they were all missing whatever critical piece Jamie’s puzzle contains. The one that lets a person look and actually see: not what is wanted, but what is there. 

She steps under the spray, shivering a little at the heat on clammy skin, and thinks, Maybe someday. Maybe someday I’ll take cold showers in July, because it won’t be a matter of fogging up the mirror before I’m safe being naked and alone. Maybe someday. 

It’s more than she’s allowed herself to hope in years. Maybe she’s crazy even to think it; maybe it’s just testing the gods, the universe, the beast in the jungle. Here kitty kitty, come out and see if you can take a bite. 

She presses her forehead to the tile wall, swaying a little, wishing Jamie were here. Wishing Jamie were sliding back the curtain, stepping into the tub, too giddy at the idea of seeing her even to wait the half hour for her to leave the bathroom. 

She wishes, and still, when hands slide around her from behind, it’s all she can do not to break Jamie’s nose with a terrified headbutt.

“Fuck,” Jamie gasps, ducking aside in the nick of time. “All right, Poppins, fair enough. Guessing you didn’t hear my merry hellos.”

Her heart is a ricochet, bounding around her ribs in time with her gasping breaths. The hands are Jamie’s--Jamie in a black t-shirt with the sleeves rolled, Jamie in shorts and a somewhat embarrassed expression--but for a moment, Dani was back at the sink in the Bly kitchen, feeling the starbursts of lust and newly-born excitement come up against the guilt of phantom gloves. 

“Next time,” Jamie says, “I will yodel.”

“Next time,” Dani agrees breathlessly, leaning back into her arms and trying not to cry and laugh at the same time as she returns to earth. “You are--”

“Home early,” Jamie supplies, kissing the curve of her shoulder. “Couldn’t stand another minute of those buttoned-up stiffs. You know how long they talked about tax benefits and profit margins? Hardly any of ‘em had touched real soil in years, I’d wager.”

“You are fully dressed,” Dani points out. Jamie pauses, looking down at herself in a dripping shirt and shorts that are going to be nearly impossible to wriggle free of. The car keys are still in her hip pocket. She reaches down, flings them out toward the counter. 

“Right. Didn’t think this through.”

Dani laughs, a mouthful of water nearly choking her, and leans her head back to nuzzle into Jamie’s neck. “You’re wonderful. And a mess.”

“Well,” Jamie says slyly. “If I’m already wet, I mean...what’s to be done, but lean into it?”

Dani can’t fault her this logic, and suddenly the laughter is turning into a very different sort of sound as one hand splays across her belly, the other easing sopping hair aside to kiss her neck with deliberate care. She lets herself lean back, the heat and the pressure of the water creating a perfect little pocket far away from the world. When Jamie cups between her legs, hips rocking gently against her from behind as she builds slow friction with nimble fingers, she wonders if maybe she’s dreaming. If maybe the strength of will has peaked and allowed the dream to spill over into reality. 

Or else maybe she’s summoned Jamie, summoned her with that restless desperate need she never quite understood before Jamie walked into her life. Either way, she presses a hand flat against the tile, breathing in steam, the world around her reducing to Jamie’s hands, Jamie sucking a soft red mark into the curve of her neck, Jamie breathing heavily against her ear, I love you, I’m home, Dani, I’m here. 

After, she lathers shampoo into her hands and washes Dani’s hair, talking merrily of foolish conventions and more foolish old men, and Dani thinks she’s never been so relaxed in her entire life. Even with the water shut off and a towel around her body, watching Jamie struggle to peel out of dripping layers, she feels good. Her eyes dart to the mirror only once, in time to watch Jamie’s swearing reflection hop in a circle as she fails to remove a sock and nearly topples over. 

There is only her. Only her, and Jamie, and this life she would kill to keep. 

***

The weeks become months, the months become years, and the Lady--the Lady is a memory more than anything else. Dani thinks she’s still in there, somewhere. Thinks this kind of ghost requires a kind of exorcism she doesn’t know how to perform. That maybe the invitation was different enough to ensure no take-backs, no pushing her back out again into that cold night and locking the door behind her. 

But she also thinks maybe Jamie was right, sitting on their bed that night with nervous hope in her eyes. Maybe an invitation, once made, can at least be amended. Maybe an unerring will, when contested with equal strength, can be placated. 

The sex ebbs and flows, as it will, but Dani finds her need for Jamie never diminishes. She never feels as though her day is complete unless she’s held Jamie’s hand, counting the callouses beneath her fingers, feeling the warmth beneath the swipe of her thumb. Some days, they spend hours on the couch, Dani wrapped around Jamie like a human blanket, talking and dozing and laughing, and Dani thinks, I almost missed this. I almost got too lost to know it. 

There are still bad days. Days where she looks furtively into standing water and thinks maybe she sees a shadow, an inkling, a seed. On those days, she walks straight to Jamie, and Jamie--who has always seen only her, who knows her so well she could tell their whole story without Dani’s help--holds her close. Rains kisses up and down her skin, grasps her face between hands that have her memorized, looks her in the eyes. 

“Still here, Poppins. Still here.”

“Yes,” she gasps on those days, and feels herself solidify a little more. She’s older now than she ever thought she’d get to see. Older, and maybe not as much of it shows on her face--Jamie’s getting these surprisingly-sexy lines around her mouth and eyes, a little more each year, and Dani can’t kiss them enough, can’t wind her hands hard enough into silver-threaded hair--but she feels it. Feels the years curling up upon themselves like the rings of a tree. Feels a little steadier, with every one she puts behind her, like an admonishment of cruel gods. Still here, she thinks with a savage kind of pride. Still here, and still here, and still her. Dani Clayton. Bit of a weirdo, stronger than she thinks, and so fucking in love with Jamie I could burst. 

“Do you think we’ll ever manage it?” Jamie asks one day, the pair of them lazy in bed though the Saturday sun has been brightening the room for hours. Dani’s head rests on her chest, Dani’s fingers playing with the waistband of her underwear. It’s a good day, a good, simple morning. Nothing pressing on the horizon. They could stay here all day. 

“Manage what?” she asks, when Jamie gives her a gentle shake as if to say wake up and pay attention to me. Her hand sneaks down a little lower, toying with soft skin. Jamie inhales slowly. 

“You are a menace. Do you think we’re ever going to be rid of her? Your beast in the jungle?”

Dani traces tiny shapes into Jamie’s skin, watching her hand disappear under cotton, watching the way Jamie’s hips jump a little when she scratches gentle circles and triangles and flower petals with blunt nails. “I don’t know.”

“You still see her?” Jamie’s lip is between her teeth, her eyes fluttering as Dani presses herself against her thigh and grinds gently. Not in a rush. Just meandering along, enjoying herself, enjoying the way Jamie still feels so alive under her hands. 

“Sometimes,” she admits. It doesn’t scare her the way it used to. It’s different now. It’s there, and it’s frustrating, but it doesn’t feel like something rising from the depths to pull her under. It feels, almost, as though after so many years of fighting Dani’s hunger for life, for Jamie, the beast, too, is tired. 

“But you’re--” Jamie swallows, a low moan passing her lips as Dani finally touches her properly. Slow, languid, she slides her fingers in and cherishes the way Jamie moves to accommodate and accept. 

“I’m what?”

“Happy,” Jamie groans. “With me. With us. You’re happy?”

Dani rolls over, watching Jamie’s brow crease with the loss of her hand. She smiles, sliding down the bed, kissing breast, belly, mapping all the little lines and scars and markers of a life lived well with her tongue. 

“Happy,” she agrees. “Very.”

There are rings on their fingers now, as she reaches up Jamie’s body without looking to tangle their hands. Rings that meant something when she bought them, meant more when they signed a piece of paper, will finally mean the same to everyone else when they stand up in front of friends and family in a few months and repeat those vows. There are rings, and there is laughter, and there are conversations in the dark and tears on a Wednesday and bad coffee and ghosts. Always ghosts. 

Maybe some things can’t be banished completely. Maybe some ghosts are more solid than others. 

As Jamie moves beneath her, coming apart under her lips, she thinks that part doesn’t matter so much. The Lady won’t be taking her. Not this time. 

She wants Jamie--wants this life for as long as she can possibly have it--more than any ghost could want her. If she knows nothing else, with Jamie on her tongue, Jamie’s kiss on her skin, Jamie’s ring on her finger, she can say that much for a certainty. 

[friendlyneighborhoodborg]

Marc Appreciation Week 2019| Day 7: Future| “Rough Draft“

So yeah, it’s late, but I finished it anyway.  Thanks to everyone who read this and everyone who participated in the event.  Now that I have a bunch of time on my hands, I’m gonna enjoy the heck out of all your guys’ work.

Disclaimers were in Day 1.

Chapters:

1 2 3 4 5 6 7

AO3 Link

(Exactly 2000 words, because I’m not always as insane as I’ve led you to believe.)

           Desperately, Rose pounded on the door to the house’s basement.

           “Please!” she shouted.  “Anyone!  Help!”

           But she realized it was no use.  No one was coming down to save her.

           All was silent and dark.

           Until she heard a noise from the far corner.

           “Is someone there?” she croaked, squinting in the darkness.

           She didn’t squint for long.  There was a bit of light in the room, though nothing was casting it.  It just existed.

           Then, there shimmered into visibility a floating figure: a woman all in white.  White jumpsuit with a black cross over her chest and chains on her wrists near her gloves, white boots that hovered just above the ground, and a bright white cowl that sucked all other light from the room to feed its glow.  There was no color around the face, mouth, and eyes.  Her hair, which flowed around her head like twisting snakes, was a royal violet.

           Rose knew her immediately.  Akuma or not, she’d know that face anywhere.

           “J… Juleka?” she gasped, horrified.  “It’s you?”

           “Rose.”  The figure sneered.  “Where were you when I needed you?”

           “I…”  She struggled to make her words work.  “I was—”

           “You left. You left me alone with a room full of strangers.”  The villain hovered higher, leering down at her.  “You do know how I get in crowds, right?  Typical; no one even noticed when I started breaking down.  No one even saw the butterfly come to me.”  She grinned maliciously, showing off pointed teeth.  “But they saw me.  And oh, how they screamed.”

           “I-I thought you were having fun.”  Rose backed away from her akumatized girlfriend.  “I thought I’d just keep you from socializing.”

           “I wasn’t having fun!  Or did you think because it was Halloween that the spook was in her element?”

           “I’m sorry!” she bawled.  “I just wanted you to be happy!”

           “I was happy, Rose.”  The specter came close and stared her in the face.  “I was always happy, standing next to you.  Didn’t you see that?”  She held up a gloved finger.  “Don’t answer that.  If you understood…” the chains on her wrists glowed an ominous purple, and her hands clenched into fists, “you wouldn’t have left me alone.”

           “Juleka… I’m sorry.  I didn’t know…”

           Ghostlight narrowed her eyes and raised her arm.  “Too little, too late.”

................................................................................................................................

           Outside, Ladybug had finished tying up the police officers, just as they began to regain consciousness.

           “Alright,” she seethed.  “I’ve been having a bad night tonight, so I’m really not in the mood. Tell me where Ghostlight is right now.”

           One guard blinked awake.  “Ladybug?” he said.  “What are… what happened?”

           Chat Noir cursed.  “She must have released her hold.”

           “Thank goodness,” Reverser panted.  “These guys were tough.  You guys do this all the time?”

           “We face mind-control baddies more often than not,” explained Mighty-Illustrator.  “They always go for one of us heroes, and we’ll end up having to fight them.  Usually Chat.”

           “Hey!” the feline hissed.

           As usual, it was Ladybug’s duty to keep the boys off each other’s throats.  “Possession’s not her main power, though, so it wasn’t as bad as it usually is.  Her poltergeist attacks ripped cars off the street. We’re lucky we’ve got our suits, or there’s no way we would’ve walked away from that.”

           “Yeah, but,” Reverser approached Ladybug, now nearing hysterics, “you’ve got a plan, right?”

           “Almost.  We’ve got to get close enough to land a hit and find her object.”

           Mighty-Illustrator looked back, at a house where many of the occupants were running out of it screaming.  “Well, looks like we’re getting that chance.”

           The heroes looked on as Ghostlight herself appeared in the doorway.  “Well, well,” she snarled.  “Four against one?  I thought superheroes had honor.”

           Ladybug struck a heroic pose.  “So many others have tried to take our miraculous before you, and now our team’s bigger than ever before.  You never stood a chance!”

           “Yeah!” shouted Chat Noir.  “Give up the ghost while you can!”

           “Not so fast, creeps,” their adversary cackled. “There’s been a slight change in plans, courtesy of my good friend Hawk Moth.  Let’s see… if one monster’s too much for the newbie to handle, how will he fare with two?”  She held up two fingers.  “A phantom and a witch.”

           Ladybug grit her teeth.

           She had green skin and pink hair, styled like a blooming flower.  Familiar black garb, complete with a swirling masquerade mask, adorned her, but now she had a new black cloak to match Ghostlight’s.

           “Bonsoir, my pretties,” trilled Princess Fragrance, brandishing her perfume gun.  “Did you miss me?”

           Rose stared at the page, then quickly flipped it back and forth over the back cover.  “There’s no more?” she whispered, flipping through as though searching for another, secret page.  “That’s it?”

           “That’s it,” Nath replied, smiling.  “You like it?”

           “How could you do this!?” she shrieked, almost lunging at the two of them.  “How dare you make me feel things and then stop writing!”

           Juleka laughed from behind him.  “That’s a good sign.  You got to neck-throttle levels of hiatus frustration.”  She leaned back in thought.  “Last one that did that was… was it the Warrior Duchess season 2 finale?”

           Rose spun on her heel.  “Don’t even bring that up.”

           Marc shrugged, fingering his copy of the draft. “Just be glad we got all this in one week.  I mean, it’s not perfect, and we haven’t even colored or proofread it. But, uh, I think it’s pretty good for a first try.”  There was a general chorus of agreement in addition to Rose’s insane cheers.

           “This was so worth putting off the budget meeting,” Marinette said, flipping through her own copy of the rough draft.  “Sorry I haven’t been in much.  But that was really fun, you guys, I can’t wait to see more.”

           “Well, we can’t wait to make more.”  Marc gestured to the issue.  “Consider this a sneak-teaser.”

           “PLEASE!” Rose screamed.  And then, quieter, she added, “But don’t over-stress yourself, your happiness and health are important.”

           Marc smiled.  “I’ll try.”  Nathan nudged him playfully, and he added.   “We’ll try.”

           “But don’t slack either,” Juleka countered, taking another look at Ghostlight.  “Dude, Nath, that’s an awesome outfit.  Way better than that plastic Barbie dress.”

           “Rose was a consultant on that,” her designer confessed.  “Coincidentally, consider it an anniversary gift.  A proper romantic supervillain rampage, coming soon.”

           Rose had stars in her eyes as she looked over at her.  “And sure to be just as cool as how we got together, right Julie?”

           “Yep.  Speaking of…” Juleka started to close the distance.

           “Upupup!” Rose halted, moving backwards and whipping out her phone.  “Wait for…” she checked the time.  “Two more minutes.”

           Nath raised an eyebrow.  “Are you still not allowed to hug each other?  Alix…”

           “Don’t look at me,” the suspect denied.  “Rose served her time already.”

           Juleka jerked her thumb at Rose.  “Yes, but now she wants to wait until our ‘official’ anniversary before I can kiss her again.”

           “May 19,” Rose recalled dreamily.  “2:39 p.m., she kissed me on the cheek in the middle of us taking a selfie.”

           “We both tripped and fell over right as she took it.”

           “It was so dashing of her.”  There was not a trace of irony in that assessment.  “I’ve got it framed over my bed.”

           “Not the worst selfie I’ve ever taken.”

           Marc was the only one who laughed at the punchline. Everyone else only pretended to.

“You didn’t happen to get the exact time I kissed you, did you?” Nath asked.

“Why?” Marc challenged.  “Fancy celebrating our one-day anniversary with a proper date?”

           “If you’d like to.  And if you’re free.  That superhero movie just came out.”

           “I’ve already seen it, though.”

           “Well, would you object to seeing it again?”

           “Not at all.”

           Marinette glanced between the two of them awkwardly. “I missed something, didn’t I.”

           Rose’s phone beeped.  She cheered, “It’s time!  It’s time!”

           “Yes!”  Juleka spread her arms.  Rose gleefully jumped into them, squeezing tight, and the goth peppered the top of her hair with kisses (the benefits of dating someone a head shorter than her).

           “Ugh,” Alix muttered, turning to Nath.  “Promise me you two won’t get like this.”

           “We’ll try,” Marc assured her.  “At least in front of you.”

           “In front of anyone.”  She shuddered.  “Why do sweethearts need to flirt in public?  They’re already together, they don’t need any more prompting.”

           “Well some people can’t help it,” Marc explained.  “I mean, look at his face.  That face was made for flirting.”  He turned to Nath.  “I hope you don’t mind me flirting at that face.”

           “Is that all I am to you?” he asked.  “Just a face?”

           “No… well, actually, yes.  But then I think most of us are faces, aren’t we?”

           “That’s rather bleak, isn’t it?  Treating a mask as the genuine article?”

           “Not really.  If you’ll permit me to wax poetic.”  Marc sat Nath down at a stool and looked at his face.  “You are… two crystal-blue eyes who see me for who I am.  You’re two ears who listen to me and a mouth that converses with me.”  Nathan started to blush in response, which prompted Marc to get closer and touch his cheek.  “Two blushing red cheeks I can hold, gorgeous red hair I can do this to…”  He ruffled up Nathan’s hair.  “And a nose I can do this to…”  He tapped the nose impishly.  “And two lips… well, maybe later.  And you’re the sum of all the expressions of every emotion I’ve seen you act on.  Don’t underestimate a face.  Especially not yours.  While its appearance is subject to change, it remains consistent for whoever uses it.”

           Nathan had turned about as red as his hair.  “Seriously, is that, like, effortless for you?  I don’t really know what to say to that.”

            Marc looked at him, prompting.

            “There’s no way I can top it,” he protested.  “It’s your words… your words are all so beautiful.”  Marc’s eyes won him over, and he sighed.  “Fine.  I’m no good with words, but I’ll try.”  Cheerfully, Marc ushered him off the stool and stole his seat.

           Nathan coughed and began.  “I don’t really think I saw you right.  Not until you were telling me how happy you were when you wrote.  I felt like I had found someone like me.”  He stopped talking, unsure how to proceed and eyeing the others, everyone nose deep in their comic, warily.

           “Hey,” Marc caught his attention.  “Don’t worry about anyone else.  And… I won’t judge anything you say.  Just try saying something.  Anything you want.”

           “We’re both screwed up in our own ways.  You just… you kept coming back, and I’d never be able to do that. I’d run away and hide, and pretend you didn’t exist.  I did do that, the first time.”  He frowned, remembering.  “That was a mistake.”  He shook his head, trying to focus.  “You have persistence.  You have wit, and you have charm and a style… just everything I wish I had.  And it was through all that, I got to know everything else—the whole thing.  I saw you, and… here we are.”  He bit his lip.  “I guess we’re a thing now?”

           “Sure thing,” Marc laughed.  “You did great, champ.”

           “No.  It didn’t really make sense.”

           His partner smiled.  “It never does.”  He leaned in once more, and was greeted by a warm set of lips chastely pressed on his own.

           Rose clapped softly, the teacher averted his gaze, and Juleka gave them a thumbs-up.  Even Alix had to smile.  “You guys rock,” she said.  “Now back to work, you two.”

           Only then did the boys realize that everyone was watching them.

           “Okay,” Marinette announced.  “I definitely missed something.”

            As Rose pulled her aside to fill her in, Nathaniel and Marc went to the back of the room where no one would bother them.  “Way to kill the mood, Alix,” Nath complained.

           “Thank you,” she bowed.  “It’s what I’m here for.”

So that’s that then.  Day 7, all done and done.

I’m going to sleep.

[thecrookedtower]

24. A Mother’s Love

[set around the same time as the previous entries]

               The early afternoon light trickled through the high window of the tower, bathing the room in a light and gentle warmth that made studying pleasant. The surface of Vitor’s desk was piled high with a collection of tomes, journals, and scrolls. The wizard had lost track of the hours he had spent toiling away, the only marker of the time was his almost empty inkwell and the volume of notes he had accumulated.

               “I suppose if it were to be easy, they all wouldn’t have failed.” The necromancer muttered crossly, examining the page he had just finished. It was filled with all manner of diagrams and meticulous formulas and glyphs. Despite all his recent breakthroughs, he still lacked the confidence that he had the power and discipline he needed. The certainty of success was something he doubted he would ever have.

               “Perhaps it is not easy because one shouldn’t succeed.” A grating voice came from the wall. Larc had been watching his progress over the past month and the ghost’s mood had continuously soured. Vitor took this as a sign that he was likely on the right path.

               “What have I told you about chiming in when it isn’t helpful? Some of us are trying to work.” The wizard chided, closing the book he had just finished and placing it on the pile. Mid-reach for another tome, he was forced to pause as a small bell resounded in his mind. Someone had triggered the alarms at the base of the tower. Vitor’s eyes narrowed, that particular tone was for strangers. It wasn’t often that he received unwelcome guests.

               Rising and gathering his spell book, Vitor moved to his component cabinet and gathered a bit of bat fur. With a snap of his fingers it incinerated, and the smoke convalesced into a small sphere that then vanished from sight. He cast it out the window and guided it to a place where it could overlook the entrance to the tower.

               Much to his surprise, the visitor at his doorstep did not appear to be an enemy. A woman on the elderly end of middle-aged stood, wringing her hands. She wore simple clothes that had seen many repairs and held no weapons. Her long black hair was braided, but bits of it were lose and fell to frame a face full of concern, but also… something familiar.

Why would someone from the village come to the tower? They usually gave it a wide berth, but here was a woman with the gall to knock and wait patiently. Perhaps someone in the village was sick, and she wished for some cure-all that he could not give. Perhaps she wished to reverse her age or curse someone who had wronged her. There were many reasons someone might visit the wizard the village feared, and they were all reasons that he should leave her at the door unanswered.

Yet, something about her nagged at his curiosity. He felt as if he knew this woman. The shape of her eyes, the arc of her brow and lips. He knew a woman with those features, only she was younger and bore wings and horns. It dawned on him all at once, and he descended the stairs. He took a deep breath and opened the door.

Morcego’s mother looked at him with surprise, her eyes swept over him taking in each detail. Then her gaze shifted past him, into the corridor. Her eyes undoubtedly searched for the very person Vitor had missed most in the passing weeks.

“M—Nima isn’t here if that is why you have come. However, you are still welcome inside if you wish.” Vitor opened the door wider and gestured to the interior his voice even and calming; for the woman in front of him still looked to be considering whether she should have come at all.

“Ah, I assumed she would not be. I have heard she is away, in Saltmarsh. I have heard so many things about her over the years, and…” There was pain in those eyes, and love. How long had it been since she had last seen her daughter? “I thought the best place to find out how she really is… would be here.” There was a quiet fire in her words, a bravery Vitor had witnessed before that brought the ghost of a smile to his lips.

“I see. Come in, then. I would be as terrible of a host as the rumors claim if I were to leave you on my doorstep.” Vitor stepped back and began walking down the hall. He heard her footsteps behind him, they were even as she seemed to steel herself against the fear of the place she entered. Vitor felt the gaze of all the spirits in the walls, could the woman feel them? Did the ghosts of these halls know that she was the mother of their lost companion? He trusted them to all have the sense to keep themselves concealed.

Vitor lead them to the sitting room, where he prepared a small pot of tea. He pulled a chair out for her at the rounded table. She sat stiffly and murmured a thanks.

“My name is Anadil Nemati.” She offered as the wizard sat across from her, her eyes had not left him for more than a moment since she’d arrived.

“Vitor Monteiro, it is nice to finally meet Nima’s mother.” Vitor replied, offering her a teacup crafted of fine ceramic. Anadil accepted it with a slight nod and placed it in front of her with slightly shaking hands.

“You are… different… than I expected. As is this place.” Her voice was tentative. Doubtless she had expected a specter man of shadows and a house of bones, not the homey interior of the tower decorated with preserved flowers and tapestries and a young man in fine clothes.

“Monsters are often made in the tales that are told of them, the people of the village have a particular talent for exaggerations, wouldn’t you agree?” Vitor took a sip of his tea, meeting Anadil’s gaze over his cup. She looked down, her expression filling with a mix of emotions at his statement.

“Of that I would agree.” Her voice strained with regret and understanding. Her eyes returned to him, studying him as if she would find her daughter and the answers she sought if she stared hard enough. It was odd to be in the room with this woman he had wondered about for years. Vitor had many things he wanted to ask her, but he couldn’t find the words to ask them. It felt like prying into something Morcego had kept secret and sacred, that if she had wanted him to know, she would have told him. The two shared a silence that lasted a few minutes, before Anadil finally spoke again.

“Nima came home less every year, until she finally stopped coming at all. I never asked, never pried… because it seemed like a weight had been lifted from her shoulders, she smiled and laughed for the first time in years. I always wondered who had helped her when I could not.” Anadil stared down into her teacup, her eyes shining with the start of tears, but she blinked them away.

“Thank you for taking care of her. I do not think I ever stood up for either of us in the way that I should have. I think Nima resented me for it.” She looked up at the man across from her at the table with a sad but gentle smile. Vitor wanted to ask why she hadn’t stood up for her, why she had never told Morcego who her father was. Yet, these questions seemed like ones for Morcego to ask, and to know the answers before her felt improper. Now wasn’t the time to ask such things, nor was it the time to add another burden to the shoulders of a woman who looked ready to break.

“We took care of each other. You did the best you could, and you raised her well. She has a kindness and a strength that are rare in this world.” Vitor let the mask slip for a moment, his voice boyish and soft, reverent.

“You love her.” Anadil whispered, more statement than question. Vitor gave a small tilt of his head.

“Yes.”

“Where is she? Is she safe? Why didn’t she say goodbye?” Each question quieter than the last, as if Anadil was afraid to hear the answers. Vitor felt a pity for the woman in front of him, he had always wondered about the type of person Morcego’s mother was. He had pictured her more uncaring, the love she expressed startled him. The tiefling had never said much about her, and it had seemed too tender a subject to press.

“I think Nima struggles with goodbyes. She struggles with conflict, and saying what she means, especially when the meaning is most important to her. I don’t think her distance or silence are out of spite or strong resentment for you. She probably didn’t know what to say, and so she said nothing at all.” He had asked himself the same thing when she had left without a word.

“She is as safe as an adventurer can be. I think Nima is just trying to find herself in this world, and I’d say she’s going a good job of it. Seeing more than just the tower and the village has been good for her, I think. You will see her again one day, of that I am almost certain. I will make sure she stays safe, and that she is well cared for. You have my word.” As Vitor finished, Anadil stood and pushed in her chair.

“Then that is all I need to know.” Her thin fingers gripped the wood backing of the chair, shaking slightly.

“Before I leave, there is one final thing I’d like to ask. Are you the man they say you are?”

“Yes and no. All accounts have twisted threads of fact and fiction. I am the person that I am, I will claim no innocence or guilt. I will promise that what matters most to me is what matters most to you: that Nima is safe and happy. Will that do?” Vitor felt the weight of her gaze.    

“I think it will have to. Goodbye, Mr. Monteiro.” Anadil murmured and took her leave.

The rest of the afternoon was spent in silence, as a hush fell over the tower. Larc did not bother him, and the spirits stayed out of sight. In the wake of her visit, Anadil had left the tower to wonder about the daughter that had once filled these halls with laughter and conversation. Where was she in this moment, and who had she been before she had walked on the worn cobbles of these ruins? Returning to his room, Vitor closed the book he had been reading; nothing more would come of studying while so much ate as his mind.

[wynneinrome]

The Three Musketeers

@midtownsciencenerd I finished the first chapter!

@hollandstarks @cringyholland @takemespidey @harrison-osterfield-appreciation @osterfield @intheheartofpeterparker @intheheartoftomholland @gounderoos

Okay all ya’ll I finally finished this first chapter at like midnight! I was bored and sleep deprived. But I did it! If you don’t want to be tagged, let me know I will remove you. I tagged those who might like this. If you know of anyone who would like to be tagged whenever I post a new part. Let me know!

Enjoy!

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Chapter 1: The Meeting

It was just one of those days. I mean like freaking awkward. Not surprising being me, to be honest. I had finally made my big breakthrough performance on the tv show Suits. My character was Harvey Specter’s teenage daughter, Lyncoln Specter. I had to get a full on weave of blonde hair, I looked so strange without my afro. But it was for the show and practically every essence of my life, nowadays, was for the show.

Today I was doing a photoshoot for the show, then I’d get rushed into an interview. I was wearing my blue flowered dress with light brown heels. My hair was braided up into a flower crown with some loose strands framing my face. I had a light dusting of makeup on my cheeks. I hate makeup, truth be told. My eyeshadow was silver with black eyeliner. And boy, did I feel fabulous.

“Alright, Lexi. You’re all set to go!” My makeup artist chirped.

“Thanks Damian.” I smiled. “You did AMAZING as usual.”

“That’s only because I’ve you ask a canvas.” He winked.

Damian was my favorite. He always complimented me and cheered me on from the sidelines. He was definitely battling my best friend Maddy, for the biggest fan label. I gave Damian a big thumbs-up and walked out the the studio. It wasn’t that far from my trailer. Yeah, I got a trailer, but primarily from the amount of products they used on me.

As soon as I reached the photoshoot door, I felt like screaming. I was terrified, but I lifted my head and pushed open the door.

“Hello Alexis!” A tall blond woman called, waving at me. “I’m Amber, and I’ll be your photographer today.”

“Hey Amber, it’s nice to meet you.” I grinned, smoothing down my dress. “Let’s get this show on the road!”

I began posing as she instructed. And, oh boy, did I feel like an idiot!!!!!!! I hated pictures of myself and I already knew they’d be airbrushing the living daylights out of these photos. And Amber was no fun. I was faking a smile and was on the verge of tears because I felt so stupid. You could tell Amber was having a hard time as well, but it wasn’t her face that was going to be posted all over the World Wide Web.

Suddenly the door behind Amber was thrown open. The sunlight blinded me so I couldn’t actually see. But I could hear two OBVIOUSLY british voices. But I was too busy internally screaming about my eyes to hear what they were saying.

All of the sudden an arm was draped around my shoulder.

“Hey! Mind if we jump in?” A voice asked.

“Who in the-” I stopped when I saw who it was.

TOM FREAKING HOLLAND AND HARRISON OSTERFIELD! Yeah trust me, I almost fainted.

“Uh sure…..” I shrugged trying not to fangirl to hard.

“Awesome!” Tom smiled at me.

Harrison shook his head and stood beside me as well.

“Hey, it’s okay to smile, you know.” Harrison said, poking my cheek.

I rolled my eyes. “No really? You don’t say.” I crossed my arms and stared into his blue eyes.

Harrison smirked and shrugged. I turned back to the camera and smiled.

“Just relax.” Tom whispered in my ear. “Pretend it’s just us hanging out.”

“O-okay….” I stammered, internally cursing myself for not calming down.

I look over at Tom and really noticed what he was wearing. He looked like he had walked out of a wedding ceremony. Like, boy what? He still had his arm around my shoulders and I was trying not to faint. The more I acted like this was normal, the more I started to loosen up. Soon I was laughing with the two boys like I had known them for years. Amber looked a bit confused, but continued to snap photos.

“Tom we’ve got to go to your shoot now.” Harrison said, after some time. “We should let these ladies get back to their shoot.”

“Oh alright.” Tom said frowning. “Keep smiling!”

“Thanks Tom.” I smiled back.

They walked out waving.

“Gosh darn it….. They don’t even know my name.” I internally facepalmed.

A few hours later I left my shoot and began walking towards my car. I saw Harrison opening a door and walk out. Part of me wanted to yell, “HEY!” And run over, but I was in heels and I am not athletic. So, I just awkwardly kept walking.

“Hey you!” Harrison shouted.

But I couldn’t believe he was calling to me so I didn’t turn around. I just kept walking.

“Hey you in the blue dress! Wait!” He yelled, running up to me.

“Oh hey…” I said, turning. “Didn’t know you were talking to me.”

“I didn’t catch your name.” Harrison gasped.

“Oh, um, I’m Lexi.” I replied. “I’m not that cool….”

“I’ve heard of you. You’re that new up-and-coming actress that everyone is freaking out over.” Harrison grinned. “My sister thinks you're pretty cool.”

“Oh, that - that’s cool….” I smiled back, honestly confused over where this conversation was going.

“Anyway, we, Tom and I, had a blast on your photoshoot. And you’re new to the whole celeb thing, so here are our numbers. If you ever need anything, just call, or text.” Harrison replied, handing me a small sheet of paper.

I took it, my heart practically exploding in shock. “Holy. Wow. Um, thank you so much. I didn’t expect this.”

“Don’t mention it! It’s our pleasure.” Harrison nodded casually.

“I’ll text you soon… I’ve got to go to my interview now.” I said, suddenly realizing that I still had responsibilities.

We waved goodbye and I quickly sped walked to my car. I quickly got in and apologized to my manager. We sped off to the interview, while on the drive over I entered Tom and Haz’s numbers into my phone. I wasn’t sure who to text first, so I started a group chat.

Me: “Hey Tom and Harrison. This is Lexi, the girl whose photoshoot you crashed.”

Tom: “HEY! Glad you texted!”

Haz: “Hey! You actually wrote. I got sort of worried there.”

Me: “What? Why would a girl like me reject two British guys?”

Tom: “Haha good one. I heard from Haz that you have an interview.”

Me: “Yeah… It’s not with a famous person….. It’s one of those featurette ones.”

Tom: “Still awesome! Let us know how it goes!”

Haz: “Yeah! Maybe we can hang out after!”

Me: “Awesome! Talk to you guys later!”

I put my phone in my purse and got out. The interview went fairly well, just the basic questions about my character and my costars. I had a hard time focusing somewhat because of Tom and Haz. It took more time than I thought, but she was nice and funny. Soon after the interview I texted the guys about where I should meet them. I went to a hotel in the upper part of the city. And HOLY COW! This place was fancy!

I put my phone to my ear and called Tom. “Hey, I’m here. But this place is massive and -”

“Hey don’t worry about it! I’ll be down in a minute!” Tom interrupted me.

“Okay, I’m in the Lobby and everyone is staring at me.” I replied. “Please hurry.”

“I’m in the lobby now.” Tom said. “Wait, I see you. Don’t move.”

Tom hung up and I honestly didn’t see him at all. So I stood still to appease him and I waited. I felt a hand tap my shoulder and I turned around.

“Hey they didn’t kick you out!” Tom grinned.

“Luckily.” I replied smoothly. “Thanks for inviting me!”

“Yeah come on, Haz is at the restaurant waiting for us.”

“Okay.” I nodded and followed him.

Tom and I didn’t say much but it was okay. I was too busy looking at all of the architecture of the hotel lobby to pay attention to Tom. (Don’t kill me okay, I like architecture.) It didn’t take us long to get to Harrison.

“Hey! I got a table for 3.” Harrison stated, waving at Tom and me. “The hostess almost didn’t believe me.”

“Can you blame her Haz?” Tom asked. “You aren’t pretty enough for two dates.”

“Ouch.” I muttered, trying not to laugh.

“As if you could get a date, you 12 year old.” Haz sassed back.

“Okay ladies, you’re both pretty.” I interrupted

Honestly the dinner went by in a blur and we were laughing and talking like old friends. Nothing could have changed our joy. They invited me up to their massive hotel room and I decided that no harm could come of hanging out with them, since I had no plans the next day.

I had a small bag of clothes with me, since I was going to be in a hotel that night anyway. I followed them to their room.

“Alrighty… We have two beds. But I can sleep on the couch.” Harrison said as soon as we had entered the hotel room.

“Oh I can take the couch.” I said, in a soft voice. “I do that all the time.”

“No, no, no.” Tom cut me off. “We can’t let you.”

“Okay, Brit…. I can handle this.” I replied patting his shoulder. “I don’t mind, these couches look better than my bed in my room.”

“Well before we go to bed, we can just chill out if you want.” Tom suggested.

“Sure, why not!” I said, nodding in agreement. “I heard that some new interviews will be on TV tonight.”

“Cool, my bed is the biggest and I’ve got a TV in there.” Tom commented.

We walked into Tom’s room after changing out of our fancy clothes. We chilled out on his bed, flipping through the channels. None of us could agree on what to watch. We bickered and dissed each other's shows. Finally, I got tired of them bickering and smacked them both with a throw pillow.

“OW WHAT THE FUCK?!” Tom yelped, falling off the bed.

“LEXI!” Harrison shouted, pulling the pillow from my arms.

“STOP BEING SO LOUD!” I yelled back, trying to retrieve my weapon from Harrison.

“Oh no you don’t!” Tom snapped tackling me into the bed. “You are not allowed to have pillows!”

“Get off me Tom! I do what I want!” I shouted back, poking him in the chest and ribs. “I refuse to be held down! I AM FIRE! I AM DEATH!”

Harrison was trying to pull Tom off of me and laughing. “Tom! No! Release her!”

“THIS IS WAR!” Tom bellowed pushing Harrison off and attacking me with a pillow.

I screamed struggling to protect my face and get out from underneath Tom’s toned body. Harrison had fallen over laughing at Tom and me as we smacked each other with pillows. I managed to get my hands on a pillow and wrestle Tom. I was on top of him straddling his waist, my hair a mess. I was poised to do my final assault when someone knocked on the door.

“Shit.” Harrison said, lowering his phone.

“Were you videoing this?” I hissed.

“Shhhh! It might be the cops!” Tom whispered.

I snorted. “The cops of what? It’s only 10 o’clock in the evening.”

Tom sat up, causing me to fall backwards onto his lap. We all looked towards the door.

“So who wants to get that?” I asked in a low voice.

“If they knock again, we answer.” Harrison replied. “All of us.”

The knock never came.

“Well that’s weird….” I mused. “You guys didn’t get room service. So…?”

“I don’t know…. Someone could’ve

been yelling at us to be quiet.” Tom replied, pulling the pillow from my grasp.

“We are really loud.” I said sliding off of his lap and collapsing beside him.

Haz flopped down beside me and grinned. “For the record, this was all your fault.”

“Uh no it was not!” I exclaimed punching his arm. “I am innocent of all crimes!”

“Yeah keep telling yourself that….” Tom snorted, stifling a yawn.

“Don’t yawn!” Harrison hissed.

“Harrison!” I exclaimed.  “It’s almost midnight.”

Harrison glanced at me and rolled his eyes. I half-smiled and rubbed my eyes. We fell into a comfortable silence. I felt as if I had known them forever. I had no idea the storm coming towards me, because of this chance meeting. I drifted off to sleep with my head on Harrison's shoulder and Tom’s legs intertwined with mine.

[wynneinrome]

The Three Musketeers

@midtownsciencenerd I know you asked about this! (Which made me so happy I cried, I thought everyone had forgotten about it.) It isn’t done. But I forgot how much I had posted. So I’m just going to keep posting everything PLUS the extra I’ve written. 

@hollandstarks @cringyholland @takemespidey @harrison-osterfield-appreciation @osterfield @intheheartofpeterparker @intheheartoftomholland

I tagged all ya’ll because you all like Tom and Haz.... Sorry if they come across OOC... I’m trying to keep them close to what I know and how I think they’d act in these situations..... 

Please leave me feedback or ideas of adventures these guys can have. I’ve got some ideas but I’m always open to more! 

Also because I just watch Moana. I’ve been listening to How Far I’ll Go and it is my new favorite song...... Sorry that was random!

ENJOY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

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                                     Chapter 1: The Meeting

It was just one of those days. I mean like freaking awkward. Not surprising being me, to be honest. I had finally made my big breakthrough performance on the tv show Suits. My character was Harvey Specter’s teenage daughter, Lyncoln Specter. I had to get a full on weave of blonde hair, I looked so strange without my afro. But it was for the show and practically every essence of my life, nowadays, was for the show.

Today I was doing a photoshoot for the show, then I’d get rushed into an interview. I was wearing my blue flowered dress with light brown heels. My hair was braided up into a flower crown with some loose strands framing my face. I had a light dusting of makeup on my cheeks. I hate makeup, truth be told. My eyeshadow was silver with black eyeliner. And boy, did I feel fabulous.

“Alright, Lexi. You’re all set to go!” My makeup artist chirped.

“Thanks Damian.” I smiled. “You did AMAZING as usual.”

“That’s only because I’ve you ask a canvas.” He winked.

Damian was my favorite. He always complimented me and cheered me on from the sidelines. He was definitely battling my best friend Maddy, for the biggest fan label. I gave Damian a big thumbs-up and walked out the the studio. It wasn’t that far from my trailer. Yeah, I got a trailer, but primarily from the amount of products they used on me.

As soon as I reached the photoshoot door, I felt like screaming. I was terrified, but I lifted my head and pushed open the door.

“Hello Alexis!” A tall blond woman called, waving at me. “I’m Amber, and I’ll be your photographer today.”

“Hey Amber, it’s nice to meet you.” I grinned, smoothing down my dress. “Let’s get this show on the road!”

I began posing as she instructed. And, oh boy, did I feel like an idiot!!!!!!! I hated pictures of myself and I already knew they’d be airbrushing the living daylights out of these photos. And Amber was no fun. I was faking a smile and was on the verge of tears because I felt so stupid. You could tell Amber was having a hard time as well, but it wasn’t her face that was going to be posted all over the World Wide Web.

Suddenly the door behind Amber was thrown open. The sunlight blinded me so I couldn’t actually see. But I could hear two OBVIOUSLY british voices. But I was too busy internally screaming about my eyes to hear what they were saying.

All of the sudden an arm was draped around my shoulder.

“Hey! Mind if we jump in?” A voice asked.

“Who in the-” I stopped when I saw who it was.

TOM FREAKING HOLLAND AND HARRISON OSTERFIELD! Yeah trust me, I almost fainted.

“Uh sure…..” I shrugged trying not to fangirl to hard.

“Awesome!” Tom smiled at me.

Harrison shook his head and stood beside me as well.

“Hey, it’s okay to smile, you know.” Harrison said, poking my cheek.

I rolled my eyes. “No really? You don’t say.” I crossed my arms and stared into his blue eyes.

Harrison smirked and shrugged. I turned back to the camera and smiled.

“Just relax.” Tom whispered in my ear. “Pretend it’s just us hanging out.”

“O-okay….” I stammered, internally cursing myself for not calming down.

I look over at Tom and really noticed what he was wearing. He looked like he had walked out of a wedding ceremony. Like, boy what? He still had his arm around my shoulders and I was trying not to faint. The more I acted like this was normal, the more I started to loosen up. Soon I was laughing with the two boys like I had known them for years. Amber looked a bit confused, but continued to snap photos.

“Tom we’ve got to go to your shoot now.” Harrison said, after some time. “We should let these ladies get back to their shoot.”

“Oh alright.” Tom said frowning. “Keep smiling!”

“Thanks Tom.” I smiled back.

They walked out waving.

“Gosh darn it….. They don’t even know my name.” I internally facepalmed.

A few hours later I left my shoot and began walking towards my car. I saw Harrison opening a door and walk out. Part of me wanted to yell, “HEY!” And run over, but I was in heels and I am not athletic. So, I just awkwardly kept walking.

“Hey you!” Harrison shouted.

But I couldn’t believe he was calling to me so I didn’t turn around. I just kept walking.

“Hey you in the blue dress! Wait!” He yelled, running up to me.

“Oh hey…” I said, turning. “Didn’t know you were talking to me.”

“I didn’t catch your name.” Harrison gasped.

“Oh, um, I’m Lexi.” I replied. “I’m not that cool….”

“I’ve heard of you. You’re that new up-and-coming actress that everyone is freaking out over.” Harrison grinned. “My sister thinks you're pretty cool.”

“Oh, that - that’s cool….” I smiled back, honestly confused over where this conversation was going.

“Anyway, we, Tom and I, had a blast on your photoshoot. And you’re new to the whole celeb thing, so here are our numbers. If you ever need anything, just call, or text.” Harrison replied, handing me a small sheet of paper.

I took it, my heart practically exploding in shock. “Holy. Wow. Um, thank you so much. I didn’t expect this.”

“Don’t mention it! It’s our pleasure.” Harrison nodded casually.

“I’ll text you soon… I’ve got to go to my interview now.” I said, suddenly realizing that I still had responsibilities.

We waved goodbye and I quickly sped walked to my car. I quickly got in and apologized to my manager. We sped off to the interview, while on the drive over I entered Tom and Haz’s numbers into my phone. I wasn’t sure who to text first, so I started a group chat.

Me: “Hey Tom and Harrison. This is Lexi, the girl whose photoshoot you crashed.”

Tom: “HEY! Glad you texted!”

Haz: “Hey! You actually wrote. I got sort of worried there.”

Me: “What? Why would a girl like me reject two British guys?”

Tom: “Haha good one. I heard from Haz that you have an interview.”

Me: “Yeah… It’s not with a famous person….. It’s one of those featurette ones.”

Tom: “Still awesome! Let us know how it goes!”

Haz: “Yeah! Maybe we can hang out after!”

Me: “Awesome! Talk to you guys later!”

I put my phone in my purse and got out. The interview went fairly well, just the basic questions about my character and my costars. I had a hard time focusing somewhat because of Tom and Haz. It took more time than I thought, but she was nice and funny. Soon after the interview I texted the guys about where I should meet them. I went to a hotel in the upper part of the city. And HOLY COW! This place was fancy!

I put my phone to my ear and called Tom. “Hey, I’m here. But this place is massive and -”

“Hey don’t worry about it! I’ll be down in a minute!” Tom interrupted me.

“Okay, I’m in the Lobby and everyone is staring at me.” I replied. “Please hurry.”

“I’m in the lobby now.” Tom said. “Wait, I see you. Don’t move.”

Tom hung up and I honestly didn’t see him at all. So I stood still to appease him and I waited. I felt a hand tap my shoulder and I turned around.

“Hey they didn’t kick you out!” Tom grinned.

“Luckily.” I replied smoothly. “Thanks for inviting me!”

“Yeah come on, Haz is at the restaurant waiting for us.”

“Okay.” I nodded and followed him.

Tom and I didn’t say much but it was okay. I was too busy looking at all of the architecture of the hotel lobby to pay attention to Tom. (Don’t kill me okay, I like architecture.) It didn’t take us long to get to Harrison.

“Hey! I got a table for 3.” Harrison stated, waving at Tom and me. “The hostess almost didn’t believe me.”

“Can you blame her Haz?” Tom asked. “You aren’t pretty enough for two dates.”

“Ouch.” I muttered, trying not to laugh.

“As if you could get a date, you 12 year old.” Haz sassed back.

“Okay ladies, you’re both pretty.” I interrupted

Honestly the dinner went by in a blur and we were laughing and talking like old friends. Nothing could have changed our joy. They invited me up to their massive hotel room and I decided that no harm could come of hanging out with them, since I had no plans the next day.

I had a small bag of clothes with me, since I was going to be in a hotel that night anyway. I followed them to their room.

“Alrighty… We have two beds. But I can sleep on the couch.” Harrison said as soon as we had entered the hotel room.

“Oh I can take the couch.” I said, in a soft voice. “I do that all the time.”

“No, no, no.” Tom cut me off. “We can’t let you.”

“Okay, Brit…. I can handle this.” I replied patting his shoulder. “I don’t mind, these couches look better than my bed in my room.”

“Well before we go to bed, we can just chill out if you want.” Tom suggested.

“Sure, why not!” I said, nodding in agreement. “I heard that some new interviews will be on TV tonight.”

“Cool, my bed is the biggest and I’ve got a TV in there.” Tom commented.

We walked into Tom’s room after changing out of our fancy clothes. We chilled out on his bed, flipping through the channels. None of us could agree on what to watch. We bickered and dissed each other's shows. Finally, I got tired of them bickering and smacked them both with a throw pillow.

“OW WHAT THE FUCK?!” Tom yelped, falling off the bed.

“LEXI!” Harrison shouted, pulling the pillow from my arms.

“STOP BEING SO LOUD!” I yelled back, trying to retrieve my weapon from Harrison.

“Oh no you don’t!” Tom snapped tackling me into the bed. “You are not allowed to have pillows!”

“Get off me Tom! I do what I want!” I shouted back, poking him in the chest and ribs. “I refuse to be held down! I AM FIRE! I AM DEATH!”

Harrison was trying to pull Tom off of me and laughing. “Tom! No! Release her!”

“THIS IS WAR!” Tom bellowed pushing Harrison off and attacking me with a pillow.

I screamed struggling to protect my face and get out from underneath Tom’s toned body. Harrison had fallen over laughing at Tom and me as we smacked each other with pillows. I managed to get my hands on a pillow and wrestle Tom. I was on top of him straddling his waist, my hair a mess. I was poised to do my final assault when someone knocked on the door.

“Shit.” Harrison said, lowering his phone.

“Were you videoing this?” I hissed.

“Shhhh! It might be the cops!” Tom whispered.

I snorted. “The cops of what? It’s only 10 o’clock in the evening.”

Tom sat up, causing me to fall backwards onto his lap. We all looked towards the door.

“So who wants to get that?” I asked in a low voice.

“If they knock again, we answer.” Harrison replied. “All of us.”

The knock never came.