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ladynestaarcheron · 4 years

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Like Pristine Glass - Chapter Sixteen

ao3 - ff.net - masterpost

(tagging these cuties: @humanexile @skychild29 @rhysandsdarlingfeyre @candid-confetti @rhysandsrightknee @missing-merlin @azriels-forgotten-shadow @books-and-cocos @sezkins79 @city-of-fae @someonemagical @dusty-lightbulb @messyhairday-me @rinad307)

hey, y’all! here is chapter sixteen, and the longest one yet! (and probably ever.) normally i feel like i have a lot to chat with you about, but i don’t have much this time, so...thanks to @thestarwhowishes for betaing and you for reading, and i hope all y’all stay safe!!

---

December 18 - 4 years after

The park tires them out completely, so Nesta and Cassian lay the children down for a nap before dinner.

"It's a new restaurant," Cassian tells Nesta. "Very up-and-coming. But we have a private room for us."

"Who's us?"

"Your sisters. And us."

"All right." Nesta doesn't ask about the others she still hasn't seen. Azriel, Morrigan...Amren.

Cassian takes a deep breath. "There's something you should know. About who's coming to Solstice."

Nesta freezes. She already knows who's coming—all of Feyre's new friends (although she supposes they're not so new anymore)—her husband, obviously, Morrigan, Azriel, Amren. Amren's...paramour. If they're still together.

"It's Emerie."

Nesta jerks backward. Emerie? "Em...from...why is she coming?"

Her employer, her...friend. Sort of. Nesta had not been in the right mindset to properly have a friend; she did not treat Emerie the way she treats Amorette, but she might have gotten there. If she had not left.

"She's actually...well, this isn't her first Solstice with us. She's not really spending it with us, honestly. She's spending it with...Mor."

She blinks. With Mor?

"They're together. They have been for a few years now, actually."

Nesta could not have been more shocked if he had told her he was going to leave to move in with Maz. Two of her worlds colliding in such a bizarre way, such an unexpected match. It all dawns on her slowly: if Emerie is with Morrigan, and she has come here, to Velaris, for Solstice with all of them, then she knows Feyre. She knows Elain. Had they spoken of her?

And what is Emerie doing with someone like Morrigan, anyway?

She doesn't voice any of this to Cassian. "All right."

He studies her carefully. She can feel his eyes tracing every minute movement. "Are you upset?"

"No," she answers—truthfully, because she's not. She's baffled. And disappointed in Emerie's taste.

She supposes she doesn't have any right to be upset. She can't exactly see this as a betrayal, for Emerie did nothing to deserve Nesta leaving and following silence. And, well, she never exactly spoke of the quiet, violent mutual loathing she and Morrigan shared. Not with Emerie, at least.

But still, Emerie can do better.

She keeps this to herself, though. Cassian loves Morrigan, she knows this.

"What exactly is the itinerary?"

"Well, I thought we could just show the children Velaris," Cassian says, "with your sisters, maybe. And then Solstice at Feyre and Rhys'. Was there...something in particular you wanted to do?"

Does she want to see someone outside the mandatory Solstice she signed up for, he means. And the answer is no, most certainly not. Or, well, it was, before she knew Emerie was going to be here. But perhaps Emerie doesn't want to see her. So she just says, "No, that sounds all right," and tries to find something to busy herself with until it's time to go to dinner.

When they finally do go, Cassian holding Avery and Nesta holding Ollie and Nicky walking between them, Nesta can see that the place is indeed popular. It's in an area of Velaris she doesn't know very well—not close to any of the establishments she frequented while living here years ago—but there's a rather large crowd of people waiting outside. Reservations are probably booked more than just a few days in advance.

A perky red-haired female at the front leads them to a private room, where Feyre and Elain are already waiting. Elain leaps up when she sees them and throws open her arms for Nicky to run into.

"I missed you!" she says, laughing, and pulling Avery and Ollie in for a hug too. "Hi, Nesta, I missed you too!"

"You as well," she says, a bit curtly, even to her own ears. But she kisses Elain on both her cheeks and gives her a small smile as she sits down.

"This place is really amazing," Elain tells them.

"It...looks nice," Nesta says, gazing around. It does look nice, but all restaurants do. None of the stained glass lampshades warrant waiting outside to be seated, in her opinion.

"I've never been to a restaurant before," Nicky says, excited.

"Nicky, don't be ridiculous, of course you have."

"Not all the way across the sea!"

Nesta catches Cassian's eye and stifles an eye-roll as he grins.

"He's right," he says.

"Quite."

"Are you three excited for Solstice?" Feyre asks the children.

"Yeah, we're so excited."

"Our friends are not here," Nicky says.

"Oh, I know, but we're here! That'll be fun, right?"

"Right!"

"Are you excited for Solstice presents, Ollie?" Elain asks him.

He blushes and nods, looking down at his lap.

"Ollie wants a caterpillar," Avery informs Elain.

"A caterpillar? Well, I guess we'll have to wait and see what we all get."

Nesta bites on the inside of her cheek. In a rather unprecedented move on her part, before leaving Sugar Valley, she had purchased gifts for her sisters and Cassian as well. She had spent probably a month discussing her thoughts with Amorette on the matter (that is, blathering on while Amorette offered her sympathetic support), came to the firm decision that she was not buying any gifts, and then suddenly rushed out the day before they left to buy things. She still isn't sure what came over her.

"So, I thought tomorrow we could go see my gallery," Feyre says. "You three like to paint, don't you?"

They chatter in excitement, eager to see all the things their aunts and father are promising them. Nesta loves to see them like this, bubbling over in happy anticipation. But she swallows hard as she watches them—they are so good at this, Cassian, Elain, and Feyre. It comes so naturally to them; joy and cheer and infectious laughter. And she has to work so hard at it.

Jealousy writhes inside her, like nothing she's ever felt before. Disconcerting, to say the least—but this was never her holiday season.

---

December 27 - Year of

The heavy snow that winter always brought into their tiny village was nothing compared to the blizzard that hit the Illyrian mountains; and Emerie assured Nesta that it happened every year. Nesta was sure that this meant Cassian would not be coming back any time soon—how could he fly in this?—but she saw the legions take to the skies day after day, and eventually, it was Cassian soaring down. She hurried away from the window and threw herself into her favorite spot on the couch, opening her book to a random page and pretending to read.

She felt him approach the door, felt his hand linger for a moment too long on the knob before opening it.

"Hey," he said, stepping inside. "I'm back," he added.

Nesta did not lower her book, but raised her eyes to look at him. There was snow stuck in some crevices of his wings, ice in his hair.

He grinned when he saw her eyes tracing him. "Still reading that?" He nodded towards her book.

"Re-reading," she lied. "It was good. And I'm out."

His grin widened as he crossed over to the fireplace. "Is that so?"

She didn't answer, only tensed as she saw he was going to light a fire, and braced herself for the snapping sound, like the cracking of a neck, her father's neck.

"Don't know how you stand sitting here without it," he said, more to himself than to her. "Well, anyway," he continued, turning around, "I guess I made a—what's wrong?"

Nesta jerked her head downwards to the book, forcing herself to concentrate on counting the letters on the page. "Nothing."

"Is it..." He didn't finish his sentence. She knew what he was thinking. He had only just come back; how was she already distant?

She couldn't bring herself to say anything. He wanted the fire burning, of course he did, he was freezing. It was normal. This, this fear of the mundane, was not. She had conquered her—it still mortified her, even to think it—aversion to baths, but there was no way to ease into hearing something. You either lit a fire or you did not. Striking a sole match did not make noise. The bonfires Emerie had dragged her hadn't been much help, either, for they had not gone close enough to hear anything over the noise the hundreds of Illyrians had been making.

She was up to thirty-seven when Cassian put out the fire.

"You're hogging all the blankets," he said. "Give me one."

Wordlessly, she pushed one off her, letting him take it as he sat next to her. She couldn't meet his eyes—how had he known?

"So, I guess I made a good choice. With your Solstice present. If you're rereading this garbage."

Now Nesta did look up, to see him smirking at her.

"This isn't garbage," she said, closing the book. A present...she didn't think he was going to get her anything. Especially since she hadn't exactly accepted his present last year.

She hadn't gotten him anything. The thought hadn't even occurred to her, really. What would she even get him?

"It's in the bag," he said pointing to something he had dumped by the front door.

Definitely not what he had gotten her last year, then. A much bigger bag than anything he had had on his person last year.

Nesta wrapped one of the blankets around her as she went to see what it was. She slipped out a box, wrapped in deep blue paper, and brought it back to the couch.

It felt rather heavy. She figured it was books.

"Open it," he encouraged.

She did, careful with the wrapping. A brown box, with the words NightWrite printed in swirly lettering. She looked up at him.

"Open it!"

She did. There was indeed a book inside, but that wasn't all. There was a candle, coffee scented, a set of rather fine pens, a beautiful, leatherbound notebook, a bar of what she knew was some of the Night Court's finest chocolate, some little flowers she thought might be soap, and a few other small things. There was a card, too.

"A subscription?"

"For the female who reads. Well, that's their slogan, anyway."

A book each month, she read. And different things along with it.

"You can choose the books in the next months. But I chose the first one. I think you'll like it. It's children's stories...I knew some of them, growing up."

It was...incredibly, surprisingly thoughtful, first of all. The kind of thing she would never think to buy herself, because she wasn't aware anything like this existed. And it would come every month. Which...while she was here...meant a lot. Every month, a new book, just for her. Along with all this other...stuff. Stuff she liked.

She looked up at him. "Thank you."

He pulled back—was he surprised? But he moved closer to her, after a moment. "You're welcome."

They didn't say anything else for a short while, but then Cassian told her he was going to take a shower, and she said she would get started on dinner, and they both turned to their respective new tasks.

But her eyes kept wandering in the direction of his bedroom, and she knew he was staring towards the kitchen.

---

December 20 - 4 years after

While her fellow townspeople in Sugar Valley are probably wreathing sugarberry crowns around their heads, Nesta is cleaning Cassian's kitchen. He's spent the past few days referring to it as their home, but that doesn't sit quite right with her. The location is wonderful; close to the shallower areas of the Sidra, all the necessities, and a park. But it's still in Velaris, and this isn't Nesta's home.

Tonight is the first time Nesta has had some proper time to herself since she's gotten here. Cassian has not left her side until a few hours ago, when some unexpected work came off and he had to leave before dinner.

It's not exactly uncomfortable, this never ending domesticity, it's just odd. Having him at her side all waking hours of the day. Not even Illyria had been like that.

The shift into it had been strange, and now the lack of anyone around her, the complete silence, is rather jarring, so Nesta doesn't even pause to wonder who is at the door when she hears the knock; just goes to open it.

And there she is: ink black hair braided over her shoulder, brown, wide set eyes unblinking, smooth brown skin seemingly unaffected by the cold—no trace of red in her cheeks, no raised hairs. But there is a slight quiver in her scarred wings that gives her away.

Emerie.

The pair don't say anything for...Nesta doesn't even know how long. But Emerie recovers first, and she says, "Can I come in?"

And Nesta, opening the door wider, says, "Of course," like this is a normal calling, like she's been expecting her.

The Gilameyvan hospitality Aysel, Miri, and Zeyn have carefully taught her escapes her now. She offers no tea, doesn't take her coat...Amorette would be disappointed. She likes to think Nesta's made progress.

"So," Emerie says finally. "You had children."

Who had told her, Nesta wonders. Was it Morrigan? "Yes. Three."

Emerie nods, looking around the living room, where they both stand. There's a bit more to look at than there was when Nesta arrived a few days ago—the children had picked out a painting from Feyre's gallery to hang on the wall—but not nearly enough to warrant the heavy silence.

Nesta doesn't like to talk about what doesn't concern her, so she doesn't ask about Morrigan. She doesn't need to, though, because after another minute of quiet, Emerie says, "I'm with Mor now."

"I heard," she says.

"I think you might like her, actually."

Nesta bites her tongue. Emerie notices.

"I meant if you two knew each other. Really. I know you both," she adds. Then she frowns a little.

"Emerie..."

Where to begin? Nesta's got no shortage of mistakes in her repertoire, but before her stands the result of one she is particularly sorry for. Emerie did nothing wrong.

There's a bluntness that must run in the veins of the Night Court people, because when Emerie says, "Why did you leave?" her voice is not accusing, but low and flat and hollow.

"Sit down," Nesta says, finding a spot on the couch herself.

Emerie sits, folding her skirts in as she does so. Nesta's lips tug upwards slightly. Despite being with Morrigan, Queen of the Dream Court, Emerie is still bedecked in her Illyrian simplicity. Does it drive her spare, what with her inclination towards those strips of crimson silk she calls dresses? Or does she like it, seeing Emerie as some kind of peasant fantasy?

Emerie doesn't repeat herself, but she sees the question etched in her face.

She's not cut out for these sort of conversations. She doesn't speak her mind, doesn't directly address any issues on the table. So if Emerie had done this to her, she would've just ignored it—perhaps pretended like it never happened and acted distant, perhaps never spoken to her again. But she's in the wrong here, and Emerie deserves what she wants: an explanation.

So Nesta steels herself, takes a deep breath, and tries to summon what Cassian had once seen in her. "I know I hurt you, but my leaving had nothing to do with you. I'm sorry." Then she holds her breath.

Emerie's eyes wander around the room. "Oh," she says finally.

Oh? Is that it? Emerie's not one for passionate displays of emotion—one of Nesta's favorite things about her—but she'd expected more of a dramatic response.

"So why did you leave, then?" she asks again.

Nesta blinks. "I couldn't stay. I thought...I deserved more."

Emerie is quiet again. "So why didn't you say anything to me?"

"I thought you'd talk me out of it."

"Well, you should've known better than that." There's not any sympathy or sharpness in her words. They're just there, black on white, clear as day, honest.

Nesta flinches. She's right. Emerie has only ever told her to do the smart, right thing for herself. By way of poorly formed metaphors about her own regrets, maybe, but nonetheless. "I'm sorry."

"I should go," Emerie says, standing.

Nesta stands too. "I'll walk you out."

Every step is painfully awkward and also just painful. She never meant to hurt Emerie, but she's not sure how much that's worth.

Emerie stops abruptly at the front door. "I'll meet them tomorrow?" she asks.

"Meet whom?"

"Your children."

"Oh," Nesta says. "Yes. Well. If you'll be there for dinner."

"I will."

"Then...yes."

"All right," Emerie says, then leaves. She doesn't look back, but Nesta can't stop staring at her.

When she finally does manage to tear herself away from the front windows, long after Emerie has disappeared from sight, Nesta drags herself to bed, glass of wine in hand. She knew a trip to Velaris and all it brings might trigger some...old habits of hers, so she makes sure to leave the bottle downstairs in the kitchen and sip slowly.

She hears Cassian come in a half an hour later. He finds her in her room, staring unblinking out onto the dark waters of the Sidra.

"Nesta?" he asks.

"Oh, hello," she says, not moving her eyes.

He walks over and sits on the bed, blocking her view. "Are you all right?"

She focuses on his face. His eyebrows are pulled together, his lips pressed. "What's wrong?"

She drains what's left in her glass and sets it down on the nightstand, then lays herself down on the bed. Tucking a hand underneath her head, she pulls her hair from its ties and braids and sprawls it out.

He lies down next to her maneuvering his wings so they aren't touching her. "Emerie came?"

She doesn't answer.

"What did she say?"

Nesta waits a few seconds before saying, "She asked why."

"Oh."

He shares in the quiet with her. Minutes go by, and he doesn't say anything, only waits. She doesn't know if he means it as an offering of partnership, but she takes it as such.

"I don't have a good answer for her," she whispers.

"That's all right," he tells her, matching her pitch. "She's fine. She missed you but she's fine."

"It was wrong."

"That's all right too."

If Emerie forgives her, does she have to forgive everyone else? If that's true, then does she want Emerie to forgive her? Of course she does—the only other option is that Emerie is angry with her, or that she doesn't matter to her anymore. Which is worse, she wonders, causing someone pain, proving your importance to them, or having them move on? She doesn't trust herself to come up with an answer. What if she's too sel—

Cassian puts his hand on hers. "Stop thinking so loudly." His tone is teasing but Nesta knows he's serious.

She moves her eyes from the ceiling to his face, tilting her head a little.

"You're back now," he says quietly.

Nesta looks back at the ceiling.

"Emerie loves you more than you hurt her. It's true," he adds, sensing her doubt. He squeezes her hand.

She holds her breath. Is he going to say what she suspects? She doesn't know if she wants him too.

But Cassian only rubs his thumb on hers. "You've said your piece. All you can do is wait for her to make her choice."

"I'm not very good at saying my piece." She's never been good at talking on the spot. She doesn't have the natural charisma Cassian or Feyre have, none of Elain's likability. She's too prickly and stiff.

"Some of us like you anyway."

That makes her laugh a little. "Thanks."

"Let go of your thoughts," he says. "Focus on your breathing and mine."

She listens to him, and at first, it takes up most of her concentration, and then it all fades away. Before she slips under, the only thing she's aware of his hand on hers and the shadow of his wings over them both.

---

December 20 - 1 year after

Sugar Valley was all closed for the holiday, but everyone was still outside, wandering the town, shouting festive-themed pleasantries instead of the usual "come round for jam!"s that Nesta normally heard. Snow fell to the ground, but not so much as Illyria had had last year. Little enough that she could walk around outside.

She hadn't expected to actually go to this silly party that Zeyn had told her about, but he and Miri and even Leyla, one of the other archivists, had spoken to her about it at length and prodded her again and again to come.

So she did, opting for a dress in a pale lilac instead of her usual grey, in an attempt to be festive. She was never one for bright colors, but before it all, she did wear more than just charcoal and the occasional blue.

Leyla seemed to like the dress, as she complimented her on it as soon as Nesta entered the store, shrugging off her cloak.

"Where did you get it?" she asked, beaming at her.

"Maternity aisle at Classia's," Nesta answered, referring to a small boutique in town. The female who ran it was from Prythian, which had made Nesta tense before stepping inside. But she hadn't seemed to recognise her, or at least, she hadn't said anything if she did.

"I love maternity clothes," Leyla gushed.

Perhaps she was trying to be nice, but Nesta just didn't know what to reply to that. But Zeyn came in from the back room just then and lit up when he saw her.

"You came!"

"Yes," she said. They all said odd things here, didn't they?

"Have some of the isti," Zeyn said, waving her towards the table. Isti was what they called that delicious berry-chocolate drink he had given her before.

The store was handsomely decorated, with sugarberries strung up along the shelves and tiny twinkling faelights dotted here and there. Her dress, as it turned out, was not as festive as she thought, because everyone here was dressed in deep burgundy; the same color as their patron fruit. Oh, well. Shades of purple, all the same.

"Nesta," Miri greeted her from behind. "Here, take a wreath." And she placed something atop her head.

Nesta took it off to look at it. "What does Solstice have to do with sugarberries?" she asked, genuinely curious.

"Every solstice and equinox is a chance to celebrate our home," Miri said.

"Do they bloom year-round?"

"They do here."

Sugarberries looked very much like the stuff that had grown on trees by their shabby little cottage under the Wall. Nesta remembered Feyre eying them one winter, and Elain informing her not to bother, that they were poisonous.

Perhaps the magic kept them from being so. Or perhaps that which was harmful to humans was pleasant to faeries. Or maybe they were just a different fruit.

"How are you doing?"

"All right," Nesta answered automatically. She was most certainly not doing all right. Pregnancy was a nightmare. She was vaguely aware of passers-by eyes lingering on her for longer than strictly necessary, and, to be frank, she had seen her own reflection—she knew that the weight she had gained in her first trimester only rounded out her curves. But nothing about Nesta was lovely when she put herself to bed at night, feet blistering from simply standing, and waking up a few short hours later to violently vomit everything she had eaten the previous day.

Amorette Dadashov, her healer, assured her it was normal for a fae pregnancy. That might comfort Nesta later, when she wasn't starting and ending every day in pain.

"Have a seat," Miri said, pulling up a chair. "You look tired."

She was exhausted. Amorette had told her that was a normal part of pregnancy, too.

"Good of you to come," Miri said.

"It's very important to the shop, isn't it?"

"Yes," Miri said, after a short beat. "Sit here, dear. I'm going to drag Adil out."

She came back a few minutes later, a grumbling Adil in tow. "Don't see what the point is. We see each other every day. We'll see each other tomorrow at the town's parade."

"Hush," Miri said. "Sit with Nesta. String wreaths."

Nesta had not been to any real holiday parties, but this one still struck her as odd. Adil was right—they did see each other every day. It wasn't even the holiday yet, it was still the day before.

"Do you not like Solstice?"

Nesta looked up from her wreath. She wasn't very good at making them. She kept dropping the berries trying to string them. "You don't look like you're particularly enjoying yourself."

"I am," he said seriously. "Well, Miri is. That's the same."

Nesta averted her eyes. How did you look at someone when they spoke of another person like that?

Adil cleared his throat. "I think there might be something I have you should read."

"Oh...human-authored?"

"No, not a book. Well, it's not really mine. It's from the bank."

Nesta frowned. Her account was all in order, and it wasn't through her employer. "The bank?"

"I...spoke to Erest. Our councilhead?"

She'd met him. She'd been expecting someone like the High Lords, and he was irritating, but in a harmless way. Like everyone else she had met here. "All right," she said, wondering where this was going.

His brow furrowed, deep blue lips a thin line. "You're not registered as a citizen of Sugar Valley yet."

"I know," she said. Amorette had mentioned something about it to her in passing.

"Well, if you were...it'll be easier for you to buy a house here. Easier to sign up for nurseries, too."

Nurseries? All Nesta had decided was that she wasn't terminating the pregnancy.

"Well, I don't think I'm in the market for a house."

"There's a property in one of the younger neighborhoods," he said. "Spacious...enough. Nice yard. Close to the town's center. You should look. It never hurts to look."

"I...really don't think I can afford a house right now—"

"No. You'll be able to afford this one." He didn't look at her, just picked at his wreath. "You should look at it."

Had he struck some sort of deal with the councilhead? No one had ever attempted to give Nesta her own space before...

"I will."

He gave the slightest nod in answer. She didn't thank him, but she got the feeling she wasn't supposed to.

---

December 21 - 4 years after

Nesta's quiet, contented sleep is interrupted before the rising sun hits her through the window by an excited little voice rushing in along with small footsteps.

"Mummy, Mummy, it's Solstice morning, come—"

Nicky stops abruptly as both Nesta and Cassian sit up in bed. His eyes widen, and dart between both of them. He wrings his hands in front of him and sucks in his cheeks.

Nesta's face burns, splotchy redness surely covering her cheeks. "It's all right!" she says, trying to speak calmly and failing miserably. "It's all right! You can come here, Nicky!" She holds out her arms and waves him over.

Nicky, unsure of himself, walks towards her slowly. He stops every few steps and looks around. His cheeks redden slightly, too.

"Good morning," she says, pulling him closer and dropping a kiss on his forehead.

"Happy Solstice," Cassian adds.

Nicky looks up at her. She nods at him encouragingly. "Did you want something from Mummy, angel?"

"I was going to tell you that it's Solstice."

"It is, you're right."

"Are you hungry? Do you want breakfast? We can go get started while Mummy wakes up Ava and Ollie."

"Do you want to go make breakfast with Appa?" she asks him. He nods and she gives him another kiss. "All right, go on."

Without making eye contact with Cassian, she passes Nicky to him. She smooths her hair as they leave.

She'll have to talk to Nicky, of course. Tell him...what? She'll have to ask him what he thinks, first. To see if she needs to reassure him or answer his questions—oh, fuck, he'll tell his siblings, won't he? Of course he will. It's Nicky. He doesn't have a discreet bone in his body. Hopefully Cassian will have distracted him enough by the time she brings Avery and Ollie down.

What'll she say to Cassian? She's not angry he stayed; just mortified Nicky saw them. Is she mortified? She's not sure. She won't be able to tell what she's feeling until...well, it'll be a while until she gets to talk to Amorette, won't it? And that's how she normally decides her feelings on matters of this sort.

She thinks she's managed to pull herself together enough to rouse Avery and Ollie, but she must be mistaken, because Avery asks her what's wrong before moaning that she's still tired.

"Nothing, ladybug," she assures her. "Everything's fine. Come, let's brush our teeth...Appa and Nicky are making us breakfast..."

As she helps the children with the sink—there's no step stool in this house—she comes to the conclusion that she's furious with herself. She had to pick today to fall asleep in bed with Cassian? Today, before seeing the Feyre's Inner Circle for the first time in years? Amren and Morrigan and Rhysand and even Azriel...why has she done this to herself?

"You'll be smarter than Mummy, won't you, Avery?" she mumbles.

"What, Mummy?"

"Nothing, nothing..."

Thirty seconds after entering the kitchen, where Cassian is holding Nicky in one arm and preparing eggs over the stove in the other, it becomes clear to Nesta that avoiding talking about this is going to be difficult, because Cassian seems as determined to catch her eye and talk to her as she is against doing so.

"You all can stay here with Appa, can't you?" she says brightly. "Mummy's going to get dressed." And take a bath for much longer than necessary. Perhaps that'll help her clear her head.

January 18 - Year of

Cassian hadn't left since coming back from Velaris. Nesta didn't ask why the trips to other camps had been canceled, nervous about his answer. But while he was here, while he did not bring her letters from her sisters...she was...enjoying it.

Things at the clothier were doing better. Nesta's ordering strategy worked, and Emerie seemed pleased. She shared lunch with her every day, and went back home in the evenings to have dinner with Cassian.

Even the throbbing pain in her head had ceased. Occasionally, Nesta still wanted a drink, but it had been over five months since she last had one, and sometimes there were whole days where the thought didn't cross her mind even once.

When Cassian showed up to Emerie's shop one afternoon in mid-January, basket of sandwiches in hand, Nesta didn't make up an excuse to rush out like she had last time.

"Lunch break?" he asked them both.

Emerie looked at her sideways. A small smile tugged at Nesta's lips at the sight of her unease; for someone who had only ever seen Cassian as an untouchable, more mythic creature than real person, she imagined him walking into your place of work and offering you a picnic basket would be very odd indeed.

But Emerie might have been a bit more used to Nesta and all things that came for her, because she shrugged a little and said, "All right."

So there they sat, in the back room, which Nesta had once told Cassian was employees only. She hoped he didn't remember, but judging by his smirk he did. She rolled her eyes in response.

"How's business?" he asked.

Emerie glanced at Nesta with narrowed eyes before answering. "Good. How is..." Emerie trailed off. What could she say? How is the growing restlessness amongst the legions, the steadily rising number of rebels, the threats of civil war?

"Everything's fine," Cassian said.

"You've been here more often," Emerie noted.

"More for me to do here."

What that could possibly mean, Nesta had no idea. She saw him going over reports sometimes, but that was about it. And Cassian wasn't like her; he couldn't just sit at home and read a book. An afternoon walk was not enough to invigorate him, he needed something properly challenging.

"Although I'm going to be leaving soon," he continued. "Train a group of females."

"Who are they?" Nesta asked.

"Soldiers."

"I thought you didn't have female soldiers."

"We should," he said. "It doesn't make sense to cut out half our possible numbers automatically."

"Do they want to be soldiers?" Nesta asked, looking sideways at Emerie. Nesta would not want to be one—for anyone, but definitely not for an army who sliced their daughters' bodies like that.

"Of course they do," he said.

She frowned. "I don't think wanting to be a soldier is such an obvious desire."

"They're Illyrian," he said, pouring them juice from the jug he had brought.

"I don't want to be a soldier," Emerie spoke up.

Cassian's eyes slid towards her. "We don't force anyone. But females should be allowed, if they want. If they have something to give."

Emerie shrugged.

Nesta didn't love a land enough to be willing to risk being torn apart on a battlefield for. "Why are you so keen on females fighting in combat?" she asked. "Don't you think if they really wanted to, they would have found some way to do so by now?"

"It's not true that you don't force anyone," Emerie said softly.

Cassian flinched.

"It's not Cassian's fault your cousin died, Emerie," Nesta said, without missing a beat.

Cassian seemed to hold his breath, but that was unnecessary. Emerie and Nesta knew each other well enough by now to allow for such statements.

"I know that," she said. "I don't blame him."

Nesta thought Cassian might have some long-suffering response to that, like You're the only one, or something noble, like I take responsibility anyway, but when she turned to him, he was only staring at her. Hazel eyes tense and studying, like she was one of his reports.

December 21 - 4 years after

Per Nesta's request to Cassian, Solstice dinner has been moved up several hours, so the children can participate. By five their carriage pulls up in front of Feyre's manor, and the children are vibrating with excitement.

"Nesta, maybe we could have a word before we go in?" Cassian says to her in a low voice.

"I think we want to go inside and see our presents," Nesta says, loudly, brightly, so the triplets' cheers drown out Cassian's request.

He frowns only a little—it's hard not to be taken with the sheer joy on their tiny faces. So he quickly grins and says, "All right, let's go in, then."

Nesta had her own suitcase full of gifts from herself and Sugar Valley townspeople delivered earlier (except for what she had intended to bring Cassian—she has left that at his house), and she has nothing to hold in her hands as a buffer. So for the second time this evening, she uses her children to her advantage, and picks up Ollie; the child least likely to try and wriggle out of her arms, leaving her defenseless.

Cassian leads them up to the front door. It's thrown open before they have a chance to get there, and Elain hurries out to greet them.

"Happy Solstice!" she trills, pulling in Avery and Nicky for a hug. "Come in, come in! We're all waiting for you!"

Feyre, beaming, takes their coats. She has a circlet set atop her head, her golden-brown locks lightly curling down. A gift from Rhysand, no doubt. But not for Solstice.

"Happy birthday," Nesta says to her.

Feyre's eyes flutter. "Oh, thank you!"

Nesta stifles an eyeroll. Did she think she had forgotten?

"Now, we thought you might like to keep things casual, you know, with them, so we haven't really planned for a sit-down meal...we thought they'd like presents more...is that all right?"

Nesta frowns. "I mean, we haven't fed them—"

"No, I know, I meant we're just not going to make them sit around a table. There's food! Lots of food! Just on tables. And we're all in couches. Is that all right? Right in here, see?"

See she does. Everyone.

She is pleased she's holding Ollie, as it appears to be working in his favor too, judging by how tightly he grips her as he takes in, for the first time in his life, five adults he has never seen before. Even Avery and Nicky seem a bit taken aback, with Nicky stepping a little closer to Cassian's legs and Avery looking up at him, slightly dazed.

The Inner Circle sits on assorted couches and armchairs, all dressed for the occasion. A large table of food is on the right side of the room, with bottles of fine wine and fruit drinks too. In the middle, creating a small mountain on the floor, is a pile of presents.

Amren is there, already clad in a dozen glittering jewels. Her hair is shorter than it had been last time Nesta saw her, but her silver eyes are the same: unblinking, unwavering in her stare. Their gaze locks, but she draws her eyes away, towards Cassian, when he speaks.

"These are Ava and Nicky," he says, scooping them both up and smiling down at them when they giggle, "and that's Ollie with Nesta."

Morrigan, sharing a loveseat with Emerie, is the first to stand. "Hello, Nesta," she says, face blank. Nesta does her best to keep her expression free of ire as she nods in return. "Hi there," she says, much more warmly. "Ava and Nicky and Ollie...hi. I'm Mor." She gives them an affectionate smile, brown eyes crinkled and twinkling. She reaches out her hand...to touch them? She doesn't seem to know what to do, hesitating, and settles on patting Avery's leg.

"Are you hungry?" Feyre asks. "Look, we've got food here...Nicky, you like turkey, don't you?"

"No, I don't," he answers.

"He does," Nesta tells her. "He just doesn't remember what it's called."

"Oh. Here's the table..." Feyre waves over, rather unnecessarily, at the spread of food. Normally Nesta doesn't like buffet styles, but she admits to herself that it'll definitely go over better. She can see each of her children eyeing the gifts. There's no chance of getting them to sit at a table.

"We're getting plates of food before we're opening presents," she says, looking at them. "All right?"

Nesta hasn't eaten since lunch, but being here makes her appetite disappear, so she only fixes a plot for Ollie. She sits on one of the empty couches with him on her lap. Avery sits with Cassian and Nicky sits with Elain.

The initial awkward quiet is quickly dissipated by her sisters' determination to keep the evening lovely, so they force their friends and her children into conversation. Avery, of course, takes to them all like a dragon to the skies, and Nicky does too (after looking at his elder sister, and following her lead), but Ollie keeps looking down at his lap and blushing.

"It's all right," she murmurs, kissing the top of his head. "Would you like to open presents now?"

He nods, still looking down, but his siblings hold no such qualms.

"Yes, I want to!"

"I also want to! Mummy, can I?"

"Can they, Nesta?" Feyre says, nearly begging, batting her eyes.

"Sure."

"Yes! All right, Ava...this one's from me..."

"Here, Ollie," Elain says, radiating joy as she grabs a box and walks over to him. "This is for you!"

"Thank you, Aunt Elain," he says shyly. He looks up at Nesta.

"You can open it," she encourages him. "Nicky, what do you say?"

"Thank you!"

The flurry of presents commences, with the adults in the party opening theirs as well. Glittering trinkets for Amren, of course, and some jokes about Morrigan getting everyone the same thing.

"Here, Nesta, this is from me," Feyre says, handing over a gift.

Nesta blinks. "Oh. Thanks."

She gently slides Ollie over to Elain, but he is so taken with his—eugh—live caterpillar, in an aquarium, he hardly notices. Acutely aware of Feyre's eyes on her, Nesta opens the present. A small gasp escapes her.

Four portraits—just like the ones that decorate this house, except inherently better, because these are of her children. One of each of them, grinning broadly, painted to perfection—Feyre's quite good, isn't she—and one of the four of them. Remarkable, Nesta thinks, how her sister has managed to create something she has never seen before, for she has never seen Nesta playing with the children in the park like this, in these positions.

Nicky looks over. "It's me!" he says. "It's me and Ava and Ollie and Mummy!"

Nesta picks up her head. Feyre's hands are held tightly at her mouth. She's bouncing up and down a little—much like the children do, actually, she thinks with a small smile.

"Do you like it?"

"I do," Nesta says, pleased to find her voice is even. "Thank you."

"I'm so glad," she says, relieved.

"Feyre, this is for you," Azriel says, passing Feyre a smaller package. "Elain, this one's yours..."

"Oh—Nesta, is this from you?" Elain asks, surprised.

"Yes," she says shortly.

"I...thank you."

"You haven't opened them yet," she says to them both.

They exchange a look before they do. In fact, it seems as though everyone except the children pauses to watch Elain and Feyre open what Nesta got for them. What are they expecting? She knows her sisters. She knows what they like.

"Oh, wow, Nesta," Feyre says, looking at the paint set. "From the Continent?"

Of course it is. Nesta lives on the Continent. "It's natural paint," she says. "Locally made. With the berries. And that's a sugarberry tree sapling, Elain."

"Oh, I've got my work cut out for me, don't I!" Elain says, excited.

"Why have you got your work—"

"They're really hands-on outside of Gilameyva...I've been doing a bit of research...oh, but it's actually best to plant them right in mid-winter, so this is perfect...Nesta, this is for you, from you friends in Sugar Valley, I think."

The gift exchange still is not over, after another ten minutes—the sheer amount of nonsense gifted to her children is staggering, but she cannot bring herself to be upset at the irrationality of it. They're overjoyed. But Nicky asks for a pause, so Nesta can take him to the bathroom, and then asks for orange juice on the way back, and because there wasn't any in the sitting room, she takes him into the kitchen herself. She intends to ask him about what he had seen earlier that morning, but when they enter the room, Emerie is there, sitting at the bar.

She stands when she sees them. "Hello, Nesta. N-Nicky." She gives Nesta's son a curt nod.

"Hi!"

"Hello, Emerie. Nicky...here's some orange juice. Appa will pour it for you."

"Okay, thank you Mummy," he says, taking it from her, holding the carton with both his hands.

Nesta waits until Nicky is out of earshot before she blurts out, "Can I ask you something?"

Emerie startles. Oh, had she wanted to say something? Cassian had told her that it is Emerie's turn to speak, didn't he?

"Unless you want to say something."

"Er, no, that's...all right."

"Well," Nesta says. How to put this delicately. "Nicky walked in on Cassian in my bed this morning. With me."

Judging by how wide Emerie's eyes go, that was not the correct choice. "We didn't do anything," she hurries to say. "He just fell asleep."

"Oh," Emerie says, the color of her cheeks going back to normal. "Well. Is that so bad?"

"I don't know," Nesta says, miserable. Amorette would know. She should have just waited to go home and ask her. Emerie doesn't know children.

"I don't think it's so bad," Emerie says, trying to be helpful. "I mean...if he sees it a lot more, he'll think it's normal."

"I don't know if he's going to be seeing it a lot more. So this might...confuse him."

"Oh," Emerie says. "Oh, we assumed...oh."

"You assumed what? Who's we?"

"Er, Mor and I. And, ah, everyone. That you two...would be...well. Together."

Nesta shakes her head and looks around the room. "Well—I don't know why you would assume that," she says lamely.

"Oh," Emerie says again.

"We're not. Together, I mean."

"And you won't be?"

Nesta purses her lips.

"Oh."

"It's complicated," Nesta says, finally.

Emerie plays with her braid, her wings relaxing slightly. "That's what I love about Mor, you know. She makes everything simple. Everything's easy." A slight trace of amusement shines through Emerie's dark eyes. "One would think three children and a love story would be simple, too."

"There's no..." Nesta starts to protest, but stops. Emerie was there for it, after all. There's no point in pretending with her. So she changes pace. "We used to be simple," she says softly.

"I told Mor that," Emerie says in the same tone. "I know you two...don't get along. But I told her...I always tell her, we were...friends."

They were. At a time where Nesta didn't have any—and Emerie didn't, either. That makes Nesta's leaving her without even saying goodbye more reprehensible.

"I don't think Nicky will be traumatized," Emerie says. She smiles slightly. "I wasn't, after all."

A short, breathless, embarrassed laugh escapes Nesta's mouth. She had forgotten about that. "Well that's...good to hear."

Emerie opens her mouth, but she is cut off by the sound of Nicky and Avery having a conversation in the hallway.

"I think Mummy stayed in the kitchen because she was angry," Nicky is saying.

"Mummy doesn't know how to be angry," Avery replies. "Mummy?" she calls out.

"In here, ladybug."

Nicky and Avery walk in, hand-in-hand. Emerie looks a little taken aback.

"Are you coming back, Mummy?"

"Yes, angels," she says. "Ah, Emerie, are you coming?"

"Yes," she says shortly. She hesitates. "Did they walk here by themselves?" she says to Nesta, under her breath.

"Yes," Nesta answers, bemused.

"He remembered the way?"

Nesta laughs. "Avery, Nicky, why don't you tell Emerie what you like to do at school?"

The entire walk back, Nesta watches Emerie's eyes grow wider and wider as the pair of them trip over themselves trying to talk about their friends and their drawings and their trips to the park and their flying lessons.

She knows Emerie's reaction well. She experiences it herself often enough. Three real, unique people.

Hours later, when Feyre declares the evening a success, and she and Cassian carry the children's sleeping forms into the carriage, and Rhysand and Azriel carry out the trunks of gifts for them, Emerie whispers to her, "I hadn't realized...perhaps you should talk to Nicky."

And when Cassian finally catches her eye—there is nowhere else to look—she knows she has to talk to him, too.

---

Chapter Seventeen

#like pristine glass #nessian fanfiction #acotar fanfiction #wow yeah i'm like prepping this post as my beta is editing it #and i have nothing to say?#ummm this weekend is 9 years to my bat mitzvah?#i think i've worked up the nerve to start a booktube?#that's it #is starting a booktube the girl version of a podcast? no. i'm hilarious.#and self aware.#anyway hope you like this! lmk if you do!

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lethimrunsonia · 4 years

Text

If You Were The Sun, I’d Look Until You Were All I Could See

Rating: Teen

Stan loves Richie, he has since they were kids, but it’s no use. Richie isn’t out, and worse, he loves Eddie. He’ll settle for finishing his college work alone in his room, thanks.

Also on ao3

----

Stan completed his math homework approximately thirty minutes ago, and he had just been doodling little faces on the back of the paper since then. Swirly smiles here, maybe straight hair there. He gave one face glasses, black-rimmed and heavy, covering most of the drawing’s features, and sighed. He needed to stop thinking about Richie, it was futile.

Richie might be some kind of gay, but if Stan had to guess he was so far into the closet he was friends with moth balls. And even if Richie did drag himself into the light, what would it matter for Stan? Richie was in love with Eddie, he always had been, he always would be. And who was Stan compared to Eddie?

Footsteps echoed down the hall and Stan braced himself for his RA to be snippy or rude to him, but it never came. There was just vibrating silence in his doorway. He put down his pen, mouth opening to tease Richie about how big and magnetic his presence was, but cut himself off when he caught sight of Richie’s face.

Richie was scared. He wasn’t looking at Stan, he was studying the floor with glassy eyes and clinging to the door with white knuckles.

Stan turned to face him, grimacing. “Rich?”

His voice must have snapped Richie into action, because he was flinging himself on Stan’s bed and talking a mile a minute. “Hey, Stanny boy. What’s up? The temperature, I’ll tell you what. Our school needs better air conditioning! At least--”

“Richie.” Stan’s voice wasn’t exasperated, it was worried. There was no joy in Richie’s words, he sounded so nervous that Stan was expecting a panic attack. “What’s wrong?”

Richie curled in on himself and didn’t answer for a few beats. All Stan could see of Richie’s face was some of his eyes. They were peeking over his arm at Stan, and Stan badly wanted Richie’s eyes to always be on him. He wanted to make Richie feel safe.

Figuring that Richie wasn’t going to answer, Stan moved from his desk chair and laid down next to him, tugging at his shirt so he would turn and face Stan. Richie responded, though he looked guilty as he wrapped around Stan’s middle.

Stan was a patient guy, so he waited while he pet through Richie’s black curls, trying to calm him. Whatever Richie was dying to say, it was pretty big to Richie. Stan could respect that.

“I like boys!” Richie exploded sometime later, and if Stan wasn’t so used to Richie’s exuberance he might have screamed in surprise at the outburst. Richie was hiding his face in Stan’s shoulder, thick glass pressing hard into Stan’s collarbone.

Stan hummed in understanding and continued to play with Richie’s hair. “That’s cool, Rich.” What else was he supposed to say? When Richie didn’t say anything back, he tried again. “Join the club, we can make matching jackets.”

The silence that was met with made Stan second guess saying that, but he didn’t have time to apologize because Richie was looking right at him, face wet and red.

“Oh, Richie, hey,” he whispered, using his shirt to wipe away his tears and help Richie clean off his glasses.

“I was so afraid and you made it so easy,” Richie admitted, slipping his glasses back onto his nose and blinking owlishly at Stan. After a minute he added, pointing at him accusingly, “you never told me!”

Stan snorted. “You never told me either?”

Richie huffed but gave Stan a small grin as he settled back onto Stan’s shoulder and put his arm back over Stan’s stomach. Stan’s heart was gonna race out of his chest. Richie was just gonna stay like this?

Richie was drawing small circles on Stan’s hip and he hoped that Richie didn’t look down because the attention was making him excited. How embarrassing, what if Richie thought he was gross? The crush that he’d hidden since childhood was going to be found out now, in college?

“Hey, Stan?”

Stan shook himself out of his circular thought patterns and looked over at Richie, surprised his face was so close. “Yeah, Rich?”

“What if...what if I liked someone?”

Stan gave him a rueful grin, trying to shove down the jealous heat in his belly. “We all know you like Eddie, dummy. That’s not news.”

Richie frowned, stopping his movements on Stan’s side and clutching Stan’s shirt instead. “I do like him, yeah, but I like someone else, too.”

Stan froze but let his eyes wander back to Richie’s. He looked earnest.

“What if I like you?”

Stan blinked at Richie, the color rising in his cheeks. “Don’t be stupid.”

Richie tugged Stan closer by his handful of shirt, looking livid. “I’m serious, Stan! I like you. A lot.”

Stan hated himself for it, but he wanted to believe Richie. Badly. “You aren’t fucking around with me, Rich?” Fuck, he sounded so vulnerable and small.

Richie’s eyes softened and all Stan knew was Richie Richie Richie. Richie was kissing him, and it wasn’t drunk and sloppy and it wasn’t during an argument with teeth and yelling. Richie was kissing him with soft lips and languid motions like he had all the time in the world. And he did. Stan would give him all his time, always.

Stan let out an embarrassingly needy noise and kissed Richie back, hands coming up and cupping Richie’s face. He thought Richie would tease him for his reaction but Richie whined back and kissed him a little deeper, licking at the line of his lips until he let Richie in. Richie was holding him against his chest, like he didn’t want Stan to go anywhere else. Like he didn’t want Stan to leave.

They pulled apart to breathe and Stan stared at Richie, eyes wide. Richie looked drunk on him, kept his gaze easily and didn’t wilt under Stan’s intensity.

“What if I more than like you?” Stan challenged, surprising himself with some bravery.

Richie’s answering smile was blinding, and Stan wanted to see what smile for the rest of his life. He was gonna make Richie smile like that every day if he could.

“Then, I’d have to say that I feel the same way.”

Stan shoved him, suddenly playful, because Richie was gonna make him say it. He wanted to say it. “I love you, Rich. I’ve loved you for so long.”

Richie’s lips were on his again, and he was being pressed back into his bed as Richie crawled on top of him. “I love you, Stan, baby, you have no idea.”

Baby. Fuck. “Richie, you’re gonna make me all--” he waved his hand around and squawked when Richie kissed his wrist. “Emotional!”

Richie chuckled and settled on top of him, petting his hair this time. “That’s okay, I’m pretty overloaded myself. We have time, baby.”

Stan was struck, again, with how much they’d grown up, with how sweet and annoying Richie was. Annoying because he knew what Stan needed to hear, annoying because Richie was looking at Stan like he was the sun.

Stan held onto Richie, and adored how Richie held him back. Solid, and stable. Stan had so many fears, and questions, but more than anything, Stan had so many hopes.

Richie was right, they had time.

#stozier #richie tozier #stanley uris #it fanfiction #it fandom #the losers club #it ch 1 #it ch 2 #it chapter two #it chapter one #eddie kaspbrak #kels speakeasy #the damn clown movie

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dancinglifeboat · 4 years

Text

Sign Language Coder Bfs Fanfic Part 2

Title: Sign me Your Love (which is what I’ll be signing it from now on!)

Pairing: Coder Boyfriends! (Leif x Tobin)

Post Canon (But max wasn’t fired in this fic bc I make my own rules)

Chapter 1:

https://dancinglifeboat.tumblr.com/post/622574506020601856/sign-language-coder-boyfriends-fanfic

Chapter 2/?

The One in Which Abigail and Tobin Run the Office Gossip Mill

5 days to launch

Fast forward a few months and Leif thought he was ready. He had been steadily ignoring what he could of Tobin’s signing so that he could fully understand instead of picking up bits and pieces. The launch of the Chirp was at the end of this week, meaning when he dropped that bomb that he now knew sign language after a week of Tobin thinking everything he had signed was beyond Leif’s understanding at the launch party, it would be a very satisfying double victory.

Leif left the apartment earlier than Tobin did; as usual. He spent the bus ride to work only half-listening to his Dracula Audiobook. (He had it close to memorized at this point anyway) He got off at his usual stop, near his and Tobin’s favourite coffee shop. They had discovered that Max and Zoey frequented that same one; but they were easily able to avoid them. Neither Zoey nor Max were blessed with the “Morning Person” gift that Leif and Tobin had. Plus he had overheard them talking about scouting out a new place- so he assumed that he wouldn’t have to worry about running into them. He gave the barista Autumn his and Tobin’s usual order, who seemed cheerier than usual as she wrote on his cup in swirly writing. He didn’t ask- but if he had he would have found out that the reason was that she had gone stargazing the night before with her new boyfriend, who would be picking her up after her shift to go out to lunch with and meet her parents. The service was quick, as usual, and soon he was out the door and in the elevator at Sparkpoint. He dropped off the coffee at Tobin’s desk, who in favour chucked a yogurt at him, assuming (correctly) that Leif had once again forgotten to eat breakfast this morning. Leif lowered his desk from the standing position to a height more suitable for sitting and pulled out his swivel chair before snatching a spoon from the fruit bar and starting into both the yogurt (it was strawberry, one of his favourites) and one of the many last-minute coding issues with the chirp.

A few hours later, Leif swiveled in his chair in time to see Abigail return from her lunch break. He bit back a small grin as he watched her throw a sneaky glance at Tobin’s desk before whipping out a paper airplane and throwing it at him while Zoe wasn’t watching. Leif almost rolled his eyes when it bounced off Tobin’s head, who started and nearly dropped his fidget spinner before spinning to face Abigail with an equally mischievous looking face. Leif had to question if they really thought they were being or if they were just messing around for the fun of it.

Leif had been keeping an eye on Tobin all morning- and it had yet to yield much he didn’t know. Other than that Tobin knew far too many vine references than what was normal. And that any insults he did sign were far more juvenile and kind than he let on. Leif didn’t know why he found that surprising- Tobin was both the most intelligent and most stupid person Leif had ever met, but he wasn’t mean, at least not intentionally. So far “Mrs. Frizzle” was the most insulting thing he had signed that day, and admittedly Zoey’s sweater had been a bit...unorthodox that day.

But this had been what he had been waiting for, Tobin and Abigail's daily gossip session. They had hit it off when Abigail first came to visit- and now that Abigail was interning at Sparkpoint and they were seeing each other on a near daily basis, they had more or less become the prank duo of the floor. (Rip to all of Zoey’s pens) Luckily, as Tobins “BFF” Leif rarely found himself on the pranking side of their escapades. At least that was the excuse Tobin gave; Leif suspected it was because he, as Tobin’s roommate, had a great vantage point for revenge pranking.

Leif finished a line of code before subtly settling himself in to watch, if all went well, he could get some excellent blackmail material out of this.

-------------------------------perspective change *lightning noises*------------------------------------------

Tobin started off by melodramatically holding up the offending airplane;

“Lose something?” He dunked it into his trashcan and paused for effect before continuing, “I mean of course, something other than your fashion sense?” He jokingly raised a judgemental eyebrow,

“Says the one wearing his e-girl wannabe hoodie for the third time this week” She snarked right back, grinning as Tobin mimicked gasping in mock offense before also breaking into a smile. Greetings out of the way, she moved on. “Any updates?” Tobin rolled his eyes,

“Unfortunately Zoey is still oblivious as ever; she needs to step it up- I’ve got 10 bucks on them getting together before the launch” Abigail pulled a candy bar out of her purse and took a bite out of it.

“And Max? Any progress on his end?”

“He used a truly awful pickup line on her this morning, and that’s Me saying that. Luckily for his dignity and unluckily for my 10 bucks she didn’t even seem to notice.”

“Good Grief”

“I know! They’re so oblivious! At this point I might have to intervene!”

“Please do, it would be hilarious to see you butcher being match-maker.” She signed, biting off another chunk of the candy bar, pointedly ignoring the playful glare being sent her way. “Besides, it’s not like you have much room to talk, huh Mr. Floofy Hair?”

“ONCE, I called him that once! And we are not having this conversation again!”

“Why not? I for one think it’s adorable that you like him. And isn’t it kinda the queer agenda? Pining for your best friend?”

“Bold of you to assume I would adhere to any agenda- queer or not!”

“Yet here we are.” She signed, smirking.

“You are vexatious as they come Ms. Pugnat”

“And you aren’t?”

“Fair enough, and how was I not supposed to fall for him? Have you seen him? He’s flipping adorable!”

“None of the rest of us have.”

“You all have bad taste.”

“Sure Tobin.” She rolled her eyes, biting the last chunk off of the candy bar and crumpling up the wrapper. “But do let me know when you finally make a move, I have twenty bucks on you two.”

#coderboyfriends #I will not be able to update next week as Ill be out of service but will do my best to get on schedule after that!#Tumblr got rid of a lot of my italics and stuff :(#tobin x leif #Leif x Tobin #Zep #Zoey's Extraordinary Playlist #Hope you like it!#:D

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is0gild · 4 years

Text

Ice Cream and Fire Oven Pizza - Chapter 8

Pairing: Elsa x Lea/Axel || Side Pairing: Riku x OC

Summary: Modern AU. She's an introvert ball of nerves who works at Ice Palace, a mall food court ice cream shop. He's the outgoing, sassy goofball who works at the Pizza Planet across the way. Hilarity, snark, and fluffy romcom hijinks ensue.

Word Count: 6,473

FIRST CHAPTER || PREVIOUS CHAPTER || NEXT CHAPTER

Credit for super friggin’ cute and super friggin’ amazing cover art goes to the super friggin’ talented ky-jane here on tumblr!

It was dawning on me that I hadn’t fully thought this through.

This whole “having friends” thing.

There were so many factors I hadn’t even considered. Like, once you’ve made a new friend…

...what the frick are you supposed to do with them?

One would think I’d have this figured out by now. After all, I was friends with Rayne, wasn’t I? But Rayne was different. There hadn’t really been much to think about there, we’d just sorta clicked. Besides, we’d met when we were children - a time when the hot topics to talk about had been our favorite toys to play with or which of the boys had cooties or our latest masterpieces made during Arts and Crafts time involving gluing popsicle sticks and sequins to pine cones. You know, kid stuff.

But now I was an adult. An adult who had just made new adult friends who probably expected adult conversations.

And unfortunately I just didn’t think cooties and sequins were going to cut it anymore.

Which is why I could now be found on this fine Friday afternoon shift at the Ice Palace having borrowed Kristoff’s phone, making use of the current lull in customer traffic to carry out some important research. And how, one might wonder, was this important research being gathered?

By googling the phrase “how to friendship.”

Genius, I know.

Thousands of articles and tutorials had come back in the search results, not all of them useful, but I’d landed on a couple that could maybe help a little bit. I gnawed on my lower lip as my eyes quickly scanned over the words. Then with a nod, I used a pen to transcribe the cliff notes version over to my palm, adding on to the ever growing list of useful tidbits that could now be found there.

Call it my Chit-Chat Cheat Sheet. That’s right, folks, you’re witnessing a crucial life hack in the making. This handy-dandy little list was going to be my one-stop shop to social butterfly success. Look out, new pals of mine, you were about to be friended so hard. I was going to friend your butts off! This was-

“Hey, I also like to doodle on my hand whenever I’m bored outta m-”

With a half gasp, half yelp, I jolted up straight, wide eyes discovering Lea now standing on the other side of the counter from me. He brought up his hands, “Woah now, sorry! Didn’t mean to scare you.”

My own hand flew up to cover my pounding heart as I breathed out and shook my head. “No. No, it’s fine, I should’ve been paying more-” My fingers flexed, closing around empty air. My brow furrowed. “Wait…” Where did my-? Did I drop it? “...I had a pen.”

It suddenly blurred down from up above to crash land into the countertop, making us both flinch and jerk back slightly.

Oh. Heh. There it was.

“Sorry about that,” I gave a weak laugh, retrieving the writing implement and giving it a little waggle as I held it up. “I… guess I still got a few kinks to work out before I can successfully launch the first unmanned pencraft into orbit.”

...wow, did that stupid joke really just come out of me?

Must. Resist. Urge. To. Wince.

The corners of his eyes crinkled. “Might I suggest waiting for a day when the weather forecast reports zero chance of ceiling?” he pointed up.

I nodded, “Good note. Excellent observation. Prime example of one of my kinks.” I blanched, then hastily stammered, “I mean the… one of the kinks that, uh, needs to be, er… worked... out.”

Ugh, what’s wrong with me? Why am I like this?

This is why I needed the list.

...crud! The list! My eyes darted to my palm where it was scrawled in plain view for all the world to bear witness. Then my gaze flicked to Lea, looking at me with an eyebrow cocked and one side of his lips turned up. Then I balled my fist and jammed it behind my back.

Had he seen?

He mustn’t know about my secret hacks!

That’s when I spotted it. Kristoff’s phone. Still on the counter between us. Still open to the WikiHow I’d been taking notes from. My other hand shot out and swatted the device away, sending it slamming into the wall on my right before clattering to the ground.

Oopsie. Sorry Kristoff!

Luckily he was currently out and about taking his ten. He’d never have to know. This could just be our little secret between the phone and me.

“Shit, what’d that poor thing ever do to you?”

...rather, between the phone, me, and Lea.

What had it done to me, he asks? It’d tried to rat me out, that’s what!

My eyes darted to one side. “...let’s just say the crime fits the punishment.”

Snitches get stitches.

He glanced to where the abused phone still lay abandoned on the tiled floor, then snorted and crossed his arms with a shake of his head, “If you say so.”

Alright, so this exchange so far? Could be going better. Not exactly textbook. Lot of room for improvement. But that was okay because (ba-dum ba-dum!) Chit-Chat Cheat Sheet to the rescue! It could salvage any social catastrophe! Let’s just watch it work its magic, shall we?

I shifted to bring my hand out in front of me once more, casually resting my palm face down against the countertop. Then I lifted it just barely enough to furtively peek at the first couple lines I’d written there.

Start with a warm, friendly greeting. Examples include…

I locked eyes with him. “Whassup.”

He blinked. “Um… hi?”

Nailed it.

Alright, now that a proper line of communication had officially been established in the most cordial manner, on to the next step: small talk. After sneaking another quick look at my notes, I pressed my hand back down again and recited the words I’d just glanced at, “So nice weather we’re having, huh? At least it’s not raining like last week.”

This list was a god send. Pure gold.

He squinted upward, scratching the back of his head. “Hasn’t it been sunny for months now?”

...fudge.

Abort, captain, abort! The first one was a dud! Quickly, lock and load the second one and fire!

I anxiously checked my palm again and latched onto the next line, reading out, “That’s an awesome shirt you’re wearing!”

He frowned down at it, eyebrows knitting together. “You mean my work polo? Not… really, but okay.”

Aaaaaaaand another swing and a miss!

Oh wise and powerful Chit-Chat Cheatsheet, why hast thou forsaken me here, now, in my greatest hour of need? Me, your most devout and faithful of followers? Me, who loved and worshipped you so?

Feeling my panic spiking, I looked to my hand again to find one more line I had yet to try. One final chance for salvation. This was it. My ace in the hole. List, don’t fail me now!

Desperate, I didn’t even register the words as my eyes snatched them from my palm, handed them off to my brain that then shoved them down the pipeline to my mouth which proceeded to blurt out verbatim, “So what do you do in your flamingo?”

...the list had failed me.

“I’m sorry, what does who do in the what and where now?”

And we’re talking like… epic failure.

I was just now realizing this was the one I’d been in the middle of jotting down when Lea had startled me. So chances were good that that sloppy mess of a scribble at the end of the sentence? Wasn’t actually the word flamingo.

At least, I hoped it wasn’t.

Whatever. I give up.

Puffing out a sigh as I pinched the bridge of my nose, I muttered, “You know what, forget it. I’m just… having a bit of a malfunction. One of those days, I guess.”

“Oh,” he chuckled, “no worries! Those come up all the time working customer service, so I totally get it.”

This guy was too nice. Here I was, spouting off nonsense like a gibbering baboon and he was just brushing it off like it was no big deal. Like it was an everyday occurrence for a person to ask him if he did lord only knows what to a neon pink bird. I should get on with assisting him with whatever he’d come over here for. It was the least I could do in exchange for him putting up with the trainwreck that was me. Taking a deep breath and putting on a smile, I asked, “So what can I help you with today?”

He returned the smile, “Take a wild guess.”

I glanced around my work space. “Ice cream?”

“Got it in one,” his thumb went up. “I’m a total addict by the way, so you’ll be seeing a lot of me.”

“I’m sure your dentist says the same thing,” I deadpanned, pressing my finger to a button on the cash register. “Sea Salt, right?”

“You’re on a roll today!”

My grin twitched wider. He was so much better at this small talk thing than me. “How would you like it?”

“I like my ice cream like I like my women: swirly and in a waffle cone,” he winked, tossing out some finger guns.

...I take that back, this dork was just as clueless as I was. Had to be if he thought that was funny.

I merely arched an eyebrow at him as the silence stretched. Then he pouted, “Aw c’mon, kid, these are the jokes! Don’t leave me hanging here.”

I snorted, tapping a couple more keys on the register. “Sorry. It’s just that after the other day, I would have thought your answer would’ve been more along the lines of ‘frozen solid and on a stick.’”

“Oo, dirty,” he chirped, his eyebrows bouncing.

Welp. That’d teach me for trying to play along.

“But no,” he waved off, “that was more out of necessity. Only the ice cream bars can survive the long trip up the clocktower without melting first. Otherwise, give me creamy, fluffy, and with a twist any day!”

“Duly noted. Just a sec.” I turned, plucking one of the cones off the top of the stack as I walked past, approaching the soft serve/milkshake machine.

Ah, my old nemesis. We meet again. One could almost hear the Old West face-off tune whistling in the background. But thankfully, there would be no drawing of pistols this day.

I liked to think there was a grudging, mutual respect between us now.

Being super mindful of the Anger Button, I switched it to the appropriate flavor and pulled down on the lever. As I moved the cone in small circles while it slowly filled with blue, sugary goop, I heard Lea ask, “Snow Bear?”

I looked back at him, a crease forming between my eyebrows as I tipped my head to one side.

...what’d he just call me?

He was hunched forward now, elbow on the countertop and chin propped in hand, fingers drumming against his cheek as he squinted at me with a frown. Then shook his head, “Nah, too healthy, even for a goody-goody like you. Tofu has no business being anywhere near ice cream.”

Then it clicked. Snow Bear was one of the flavors we offered.

“Big Bad Pete?” he pursed his lips to one side, then crinkled his nose. “Nope. Too nutty. Thinking you like a crunch, just not that kind.”

I returned my attention to the machine, making sure the cone wasn’t too top heavy. “Are you… trying to guess the type of ice cream I like?”

“Yup! Since Sea Salt clearly wasn’t your thing.”

“I wouldn’t necessarily say that.” I released the lever, completing the stacking spiral with a nice little curl at the top and turning to face him once more. “But it is… shall we say, an acquired taste?”

Lea smirked and scoffed, “Blasphemy! Don’t worry though, I won’t judge you too harshly for your dirty, heathen tastes.”

“You’re too kind,” I rolled my eyes as I handed him his purchase.

Taking it in one hand, he used the other to give me the munny due. “Consider it my one good deed for the century. It’s a doozy though. I’m expecting my sainthood any day now.” He then lapped off a big blue chunk as he eyed me thoughtfully. “Donald Fizz maybe?” Then he pulled a face with another shake of his head, “Nu uh, too close to Sea Salt.”

“If you really want to know that badly, it’s-”

“Buh buh buh,” he pressed a finger to my lips, cutting me off. “Yeesh, don’t spoil my fun like that, let me guess! This is like my mutant power, I can always tell a person’s fave ice cream.” He narrowed his eyes on me as he took another bite, licking some of it off from the corner of his mouth. “You’re a tough read though. Gonna need more time, gather more intel.” A grin broke out again, “But I do oh so love a challenge.” Then he snapped his fingers, “What about-”

“Elsa?!”

My blood ran cold at the voice that cried out from across the food court.

A very, very familiar voice.

One I had not expected to hear again for a while yet and certainly not here, at the Dusk Town Center mall, at my sanctuary of all places.

Lea glanced over his shoulder, looking for who’d interrupted him before yelping and leaping out of the way so as not to become roadkill to an auburn and blue blur zooming straight for me. It crashed up against the other side of the counter, lashed its limbs out over the top and seized me in its vice-like grip, yanking me forward into a bone-crushing embrace and squeezing the absolute life out of me as it once more shouted, “Elsa! I found you! At last, I found you!”

Or rather… not it, but her.

Anna Fryse.

My sister.

...who, as I was just now discovering, might also be part boa constrictor. Good lord, this girl did not know her own strength!

“Anna,” I wheezed, feebly patting at her elbow. An extraordinary feat, given that her bear hug was practically super gluing my arms to my sides. “Can’t. Breathe.”

“You’re okay! I was so worried! I thought you might be hurt or trapped or drugged or kidnapped or amnesiad or dead or, or, or- but you’re not! You’re really, really not! You’re alive!”

“Won’t be for much longer if you don’t let go,” I croaked out, starting to see spots. Finally she released me and I gasped for breath. Ah, oxygen. Beautiful, life giving oxygen. I coughed, “Did you seriously just use ‘amnesia’ as a verb?”

Completely ignoring my question, her hands still grasped tightly at my shoulders as sharp, blue eyes set in a freckled face looked me over. Her red hair was done in pigtail braids and she was in a dark cobalt sundress with a black bodice.

Then she opened her mouth.

“Woah, Elsa! You look different! It’s a good different! I love everything about it!” She grabbed me by the cheeks, “Your face, the outfit, that hat - oh gosh, that hat! I never thought I’d see you in a friggin’ baseball cap! It’s too friggin’ cute! And a ponytail! How many times have I said you’d look totes adorbs in a ponytail, and you know what? Told you so! And- oh. My. Gawd!” She bellyflopped onto the countertop, pointing down, “I just saw the mini skirt! Friggin’ you! In a friggin’ mini skirt! Damn girl, you hawt!” She fell back onto her feet once more, looking up at our sign, “And this place! What is this place? This place is amazing! Do you work here? Please, please, please tell me you work here! Oh my gawd, you do! You have a friggin’ job! What do you do? How much do you make? Do you pay taxes? Do you pay rent? Do you have a 401k? What is a 401k?” She pointed at an ice cream spade, “What’s this thingie do?” Next at the soft serve/milkshake machine, “How does that work?” Up at a dangling Sven plushie. “What’s up with all the friggin’ deers?” Then at Lea standing off to one side, slowly eating his ice cream and watching on with one curious eyebrow quirked. “Who’s the hottie with a body?” She started to wave, calling out, “Hello, Mr Hottie-With-A-Bo-”

“Anna!” I hissed, cheeks roasting as I snatched her hand back down. Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted Lea returning her wave with a tiny one of his own, to which I shot him a dull stare. He just grinned and shrugged. Shaking my head, I asked him, “Could you, uh… would you mind giving us a minute alone? Please?”

“Sure, no problem. I should be getting back to work anyhow. Laters, El!”

...El? Who’s El?

“Nice meeting ya, El’s friend!” he gave a two finger salute to Anna with a wink before sauntering off.

Huh. Guess that’d make me El. I’d earned a nickname. Had our friendship leveled up? Wow, I was so good at this friends thing! Without even understanding it, I had somehow already mastered it.

Bravo, me!

Anna watched him go, then turned back to me with a low whistle. “Okay, seriously, who was the sexpot and please, for the love that is all that is good and foxy, tell me you are tapping that.”

“Oh my god, Anna!” I facepalmed. I wasn’t going to dignify that with a response. ��What are you even doing here?”

“I told you already, I was worried!”

My forehead wrinkled. “But you knew I wasn’t abducted or anything, you were the one who helped me run away. Besides, didn’t you receive my text telling you I was okay?”

“Yes, weeks after you disappeared!” She smacked me in the arm with a glare. “You could have contacted me sooner, brat! And what the frick was up with your stupid text?!”

“Stupid...? What was wrong with it?”

“I’m fine, don’t worry, don’t come looking for me,” she flatly recited the words from my message before looking away with a huff. “Please, have you never seen any kidnap movie in the history of like friggin’ ever? That’s like classic code for ‘help me, help me, I’ve been taken hostage and am being forced to tell you these things under duress.’”

“Ugh, the way your mind works,” I grumbled, massaging one temple. “How did you even find me anyway?”

Anna snorted. “What, you think just cuz you blocked my number that I wouldn’t be able to track you down? Sis, please, we live in the golden age of technology. Trust me, I have my ways. There’s a lot a girl can do with just a phone number and this little thing called the internet.”

I opened my mouth to retort, but then froze with a gasp as another thought struck me and nearly stopped my heart. My eyes darted about, searching the food court while I fidgeted with my fingers. “Wait… oh god, does… do Mother and Father… do they know? Are they also here? Did you tell-”

She gently shushed me, reaching over the countertop to rub my arm. “Sis, Sis, it’s okay, they’re not here, don’t stress! I did tell them I got the text from you so they’d know you’re okay, but I didn’t tell them I’d figured out where you were. They don’t know that I came here looking for you. You don’t have to talk to them until you’re ready.”

“Oh thank god,” I sighed, slumping against the counter. That… was a talk I was in no way prepared for. Not just yet. I gnawed on my lower lip for a second, glancing back up at Anna. “What about-”

“He’s fine too,” she said softly.

I frowned. “...really?”

Her face pinched into a tiny grimace. “I mean, he’s not great. He got dumped at the altar, what do you think? But he’s a big boy, he’ll survive.”

Well that was a load off my mind.

Not.

“Ugh, I feel terrible,” I buried my face in my hands. Then I peeked out between my fingers at her. “Could you… I don’t know… maybe do damage control with him for me or something?”

“Was already on it,” she beamed with a thumbs up. “But enough about all that, gah, so friggin’ depressing! I wanna hear more about you and your new life and this whole job thing and that redheaded Hunky McHunkface and all that’s happened to you since you flew the coop! Tell me everything!”

A tiny smile crept up onto my lips. I knew I’d been missing my little sister, but it was only in that moment... seeing her here in front of me, hearing her voice again... that I was realizing just how much. “I’d actually really like that. But uh…” I looked past her, noticing more shoppers wondering about amongst those tables out there now than there had been just moments ago, with even more trickling in by the second. “Looks like we’re about to get our afternoon rush, so it’s not really the best time.”

Anna tapped her chin with a low hum before her face lit back up. “Are you free tonight?”

My head tilted to the left. “I’m working closing, but I should be out of here by nine I think.”

“Perfect! Let’s do dinner! Then we can properly celebrate your new found freedom as you tell me all about it! Whaddya say? Pleeeeease?” Puppy dog eyes initiated.

I laughed and nodded. “Yeah, okay. That sounds nice.”

“Yay!” she bounced on her heels, rapidly clapping her hands together with a tiny squeal. “Ahhhh! Can’t wait! Okay, you said nine, right? Right! I’ll be waiting in my car right outside those doors over there, got it? Good! I’ll leave you to it then!” Then she was snatching me into another hug over the countertop and planting a kiss on my cheek with a loud mwah! “Love ya, Sis! See you then!”

And just like that, Typhoon Anna whooshed off once again, disappearing into the ever growing crowd.

Not a second later, I heard the door open behind me. “Hey, I’m back, sorry it ran a little long, I- hey, why’s my phone on the floor?”

I winced.

Heh… woops.

One tiny detail may have slipped my mind in all the mayhem that had been the last ten minutes.

I turned to see Kristoff stooping down to pick it up before he graced me with a scowl. I chuckled sheepishly, “So… funny story…”

I got the feeling Kristoff hadn’t found my story all that amusing.

Don’t think he’d found it particularly believable either.

Not sure why. I mean, wasn’t it totally plausible that a strong gust of wind had blasted through the entire mall, causing one of the bigger reindeer dolls to fly off its hook and rocket straight into my hands, knocking his phone free from my grasp and sending it slamming into a wall where I had then left it for fear that moving it could cause more damage and trauma to the poor little device that had already been through so much?

No? Not plausible? Not even remotely or in the slightest?

Drat.

I'd never really been good at the whole lying thing.

But it'd been the best I could come up with on the spot. I mean, I wasn’t about to tell him the truth about how I was a total, pathetic dunce when it came to making friends which in turn caused me to do idiotic things like fling other’s people’s fragile property at hard surfaces.

In any case, Kristoff and I were currently not on speaking terms.

At least, I’m pretty sure we weren’t. That was my best guess anyway, given he hadn’t spoken two words to me since I’d spun my little tale.

Eh, he’d get over it.

A couple hours of the silent treatment later and he’d clocked out without so much as a goodbye. Then a few more hours brought me to the here and now of closing time. I was almost done wrapping everything up, just needed to finish wiping down all the surfaces. Having already ensured the inside of the little shop was pristine, I’d stepped out to be on the food court side of the counter, using a cloth to remove any fingerprints and other smudges that’d been left by customers on the display glass.

As I finished cleaning the last of it, I exhaled heavily and straightened up, planting my hands on my hips as I inspected my work. Nodding in approval at a job well done, I then looked to the clock on the wall to see that it was a quarter to nine. Perfect. Plenty of time to grab my things and lock up before heading out to meet Anna. Stretching my back to loosen some of the stiffness that had settled in there, I then took a quick glance over my shoulder.

It really should come as a shock to no one at this point that Lea could once again be spotted across the way from me. I was beginning to think the people in charge of scheduling our shifts met up for weekly tea and crumpets or something while they made sure the hours the two of us worked almost always lined up exactly. What nefarious scheme was being cooked up by the upper management of our two separate companies? What could they possibly hope to gain by it? Only time would tell.

In any case, he too looked to be almost done with all of his closing tasks. He was currently out in the food court area as well, using a broom to sweep up the area in front of Pizza Planet. Or so I’m sure the intent had been.

Except... he wasn’t really so much in front of the pizzeria as he was on top of one of the tables.

And it wasn’t so much a broom as it was an impromptu mic.

And he wasn’t so much sweeping as he was in his own little world, enthusiastically lip-syncing and dancing away to the song blasting out of his phone in the back pocket of his pants. I Believe In A Thing Called Love by the Darkness, if the wild electric guitar, high falsetto vocals, and cheesy lyrics were anything to go off of.

Wow, he really was a complete dork.

A splutter of a laugh burst out of me before I was able to clamp both my hands over my mouth in a vain effort to stop it.

I’m not sure how he heard me over all that explosive glam rock, but it seemed he did somehow for his head suddenly jerked in my direction. Then he beamed and started hopping across all the tabletops towards me. That couldn’t be sanitary. His feet at last touched ground in front of the Ice Palace as he crouched low before springing back up into a half-turn, landing himself in a seat atop the counter right between the ice cream display case and a cash register.

Still directing that ear-to-ear smile my way, he pulled his phone out long enough to hit pause on his music. “So whadja think? Do I put on one hell of a show or what?”

Oh dear. Not only a dork but no shame to boot. A deadly combo, that.

I snorted, eyes on the glass once more as I went back to scrubbing it for the now nonexistent spots. “For sure. You should hurry up and get on becoming a bigtime rock star already.”

Broom balanced on the floor between his knees, he folded his hands over the handle point and rested his chin on his knuckles. “Nah, all that fame and fortune I’m guaranteed to get cuz I’m so loveable, awesome, amazing and cool would go straight to my head.”

I bit back a grin. “Because you’re so modest now.”

“Oh yeah, I’m humble as fuck!” he declared brightly. Then he shrugged and sighed, “Guess I’m just kinda perfection that way.”

My eyelids drooped. “...clearly.”

“So,” he lifted his head off its perch, freeing up one hand to scratch behind his ear, “everything okay? Between you and your sister, I mean.”

I looked at him, blinking a couple times. “How’d you know she‘s my sister?”

“You two got the same nose,” he smirked, tapping a finger to the side of his. “But seriously, you all good? She seemed pretty frantic.”

“Oh, that’s just Anna for you. The Looney Toons Tasmanian Devil personified. Pretty sure she doesn’t even know the meaning of the word ‘calm.’ But no, she’s fine. We’re good.”

“Glad to hear it!” A pause. “So…” he said again, this time stretching the word out as he bounced the broom handle back and forth between his palms now. “...you eat, right?”

Hand still absently running the cloth along the glass, I raised an eyebrow at him. What kind of question was that? “...I have been known to on occasion, yes.”

“Good. Any dinner plans tonight?”

I froze, eyes round.

Oh.

...was he asking what I think he was asking? I think he was asking what I think he was asking. Why would he ask that?! Wait... oh no… did he think that I was thinking that he should ask what I think he was asking? Because if that’s what he thought I was thinking, I most certainly was not thinking that! Not even close! Unless… did this here right now count as me thinking that?

...hold up, now I’m confused... what was I thinking again?

Oh that’s right.

I was thinking about him.

Asking.

Me.

Out.

Which I was so not ready for! I mean come on, I had just gotten out of a long term relationship! What was that rule? The one about how long after a breakup before you should start dating again? Something about waiting at least thirty minutes before getting back in the -

Wait no, that had to do with eating and pools…

Whatever, gah! However much time it’s supposed to be, pretty sure it’s more than just a few weeks if you’d not only been together for years, but also frigging engaged to your ex!

Current relationship status aside, let’s just be real here... I’m not sure if this was something I would ever be ready for. Hello, Mayor of Hermit Island here! They throw hermit parades in my honor. Those parades have zero spectators and consist of one (1) person marching, that person being me, all alone, by myself, because it’s Hermit Island and kind of the whole point! It was sort of a miracle I’d ever started dating in the first place, much less wound up with a fiancé of all things! When you think about it, and I mean really think about it… how the frick had that even happened?! I’d been there, heck, I’d lived it and even I was still scratching my head over that one. I mean, how had I ever-

“Hey now, what’s with the-?” Lea’s words broke me out of the word jumble that was my brain and my eyes darted over to him. His furrowed brow suddenly went slack and he blinked, heading rocking back. “Hold on, you don’t think that I- That I’m asking you out on a- No! God no! No, no, no, that’s not what this is!”

Oh thank goodness!

Wait… how did he know that’s what I’d been thinking?

...could it be the fact that all the color had drained from my face and I had stopped breathing?

Speaking of which, I should really start that back up again.

Okay, all together now, one, two, three annnnnd sharp, deep inhale.

Whew, much better! Man, oxygen and I were having a real on-again, off-again relationship today.

“Not that there’s anything wrong with y- I mean, I wouldn’t be opposed to- that is, uh… aw, crap,” he groaned, bonking his head against the top of the broom handle. “Forget it. Look, what I was trying to say was we - that is, the kiddos and I and a buncha other people who work at other stores 'round the mall, all of us get together every Friday night for food and drinks at the 7th Heaven. It’s this nice little pub not too far from here and I dunno if booze is your thing or what, but the grub’s pretty good there too, way better than your average bar food and so I was just wondering if you’d like to, I dunno… come join us and just hang out for a bit, have some fun. Interested?”

Ooooooooooh, got it! Well that was a relief!

...wait, was it?

Oh dear, just the thought of me having to interact with that many people all at the same time was enough to make my soul leave my body. Because once again, I have to play the President of Hermit Island card here. That’s right, I’d promoted myself from mayor to president within the last five minutes. I like to think I’d earned it after all my years of exemplary hermit service.

The point was, this little get-together sounded precisely like the kind of situation that I wanted to be on the polar opposite end of the planet from. Seriously, the Devil himself could not have designed a more fitting hell for me. Don’t get me wrong, it was sweet that Lea had thought to include me and I’m sure all the other people going would be nice and everything, but... I just couldn’t. I couldn’t do it. Not with the cold, stabbing pangs of anxiety already coursing throughout my chest at even the mere mention of going to such a thing.

Luckily, I didn’t have to. I had an out. A beautiful, glorious escape route courtesy of the one, the only, my savior (queue angelic choir singing)... Anna.

Clearing my throat, I managed a small smile. “Thank you, I appreciate the invite, I really do and I’m so sorry but I’ve already made plans with my sister. Speaking of,” I glanced at the clock again before hurrying past him and back into the Ice Palace to drop off the cleaning rag, “I really should be going now, she’s probably already waiting for me.”

He slid off the countertop, spinning around to face me with a frown. “Aw, ya sure? Why don’t you just bring her along too? We won’t mind, the more the merrier!”

Still with the smile, now accompanied by a slight scrunching of my nose, I shook my head. “Mm, no, I don’t think that’ll work. But maybe next time, okay?” Slinging my bag over my shoulder, I stepped out from behind the counter once more and stretched up on my tippy-toes, reaching for the pull-down gate. Crud, why was I always so stupidly short?

“Let me.” Him being the absolute Ent that he was, Lea had no trouble whatsoever reaching it and yanking it down for me.

“Thanks,” I murmured before locking it up for the night, then turning and making my way towards the double doors leading outside.

“Hang on, I’ll walk you out,” he said, bringing me up short.

Turning my head back towards him, I held up a hand, “Oh no, that’s fine, you don’t have to!”

“I’m heading that way anyway.” He started walking away backwards, jerking a thumb over his shoulder towards the Pizza Planet, “Just let me close up shop real quick.”

“Really, it’s not necessary. I’m just going to-”

“Be back in a sec!” he spun one-eighty, jogging off.

“...go,” I finished weakly.

Well now what? I guess maybe I should wait? My eyes shifted to the doors longingly.

...well, I did tell him he didn’t need to walk me. Not my fault he couldn’t hear me over the sound of his own chivalry.

Screw it. I’m leaving.

With a small grimace and one last peek back to where Lea had just disappeared, I turned away, squared my shoulders and strode off.

Pushing through the exit doors and out into the night air, I spotted Anna parked at the curb right in front of me in her bright red Porsche convertible, its top already folded back. She honked at me, calling, “Hey, hot stuff! Looking for a good time?”

I merely grinned and shook my head at her as I approached the vehicle. However, just as I was reaching for the car door, a voice called out behind me, “Wait up!”

I winced, screwing my eyes shut.

Fudge.

Lea came to a stop next to me, panting and hunching forward, planting his hands on his knees. He must have been running the whole way to make sure he caught me before I could esc- erm, I mean, before I left. He lifted his head, blasting us with the full force of those dimples of his as his gaze flicked back and forth between me and Anna. “You sure you ladies can’t join us tonight?”

“Thanks, but-”

“Join you for what?” Anna cut me off, scooting closer by shifting from the driver's seat to the passenger, arms folding across the top of the door.

This. Right here. This was exactly why I hadn’t wanted him to walk me out.

“Nothing big,” Lea straightened up, placing a hand on the car door as well and leaning against it. “Just drinks and food with some friends from work. If you can’t change your plans though, that’s totally cool, I just wanted to-”

Because once Anna found out...

“What are you talking about?!” she laughed. “Of course we can change our plans! That sounds so fun, count us in!”

…there was no way I was getting out of it. Ugh.

“Wha- really?” No doubt about it. He was quite pleasantly surprised. “Great! The place we’re meeting at is called 7th Heaven. Short drive from here.” He waved to another car parked a few spaces further down the curb, which responded by flashing its blinkers, “That’s Xion. She drew the short straw for designated driver tonight. Just follow her car and she’ll lead you right to it!”

“Sounds good! See you there!” she waggled her fingers at Lea as he dashed off to get into the other car. Then she scooched back over behind the wheel, making room for me. Face pinching just a smidge, I sighed and got in, slamming the door shut behind me. Bouncing in her seat as she started the engine, she chirped, “Wow, we lucked out! This is gonna be a blast! You excited?”

“...thrilled,” I said dryly, buckling myself in.

Welp. Let’s get this over with.

Personal hell, here I come.

Author’s note: Ahhhh, there she is! Elsa’s feisty-pants lil sister makes her debut! Also, notice how much Anna says friggin’? Now those sound more fitting coming out of her, but Elsa grew up hearing those friggin’s (and fricks) coming out of her sis for years now, so it may have rubbed off on her a lil. Also the last name Fryse? Norwegian for ‘freeze’... yeah, I got a lil punny in coming up with Elsa’s family name, ignore me and my silly lil pleasures xD And more BBS ice creams sneak into this chapter - and I was mindful of their in-game descriptions too, so yes, it is in fact canon in the video game that the Snow Bear flavor has *shudders* tofu in it. TOFU. In ICE CREAM. Thanks, but no thanks!

Anyway, moving on! Now Anna drags our dear antisocial hermit off on an unwanted adventure! What’s next for our intrepid heroine? Will she survive this dreaded night of socializing? Just who exactly will be at Friday night drinks anyway? And with the sheer volume of ice cream Lea probably consumes daily, just HOW massive must his dentist bill be at this point, I mean really?? We may never know the answer to that last question, but as for the rest, stay tuned to find out next chapter!

Thanks for reading, I super duper appreciate it! And an extra BIG thank you to any new followers out there (hello! :D) and to those of you who hit that like button last chapter, seeing that always brings the biggest, goofiest smile to my face!

FIRST CHAPTER || PREVIOUS CHAPTER || NEXT CHAPTER

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hes-writer · 5 years

Text

Letters To Harry

Summary: Y/N finds a letter from Harry’s ex

Warnings: angst

Word Count: 1692 words

Y/N and Harry had been together for over half a year now. She was certain that he loved her with all his heart and he never failed to show it every day. Through minute things, like setting the shower water temperature to her liking before she even woke up, or making her the perfect cup of coffee with just the right amount of coffee creamer and milk—Harry was so very attentive to her needs, subconsciously, that is, he didn’t think that he paid enough attention.

He was trustworthy and he appraised himself every time an occurrence came around. Like when a pretty woman flirted with him at the bar while Y/N escaped for a quick bathroom break—Harry was quick to push her away and establish his status before it progressed any further. He was honest and vulnerable–as Y/N described–because not once did she doubt his actions.

So why was it that Y/N felt fear sliding up her spine and creeping up her neck? Especially reading a handwritten letter that was addressed to her boyfriend from his ex, Camille. Why were her fingers twitching against the crumbly strands of the paper—because she felt sad and frustrated and confused about what was to happen.

Her knees were sore from the weight of her body of crouching down on the hardwood floor of their bedroom closet. A shoe box was opened messily with items scattered on the inside. It was an accident, Y/N supposes. She was grabbing a winter jacket from the back of the hangers and clothing–a thick one at that– and used her strength to pry it off its place, not knowing that a box was situated near it. It toppled over, taking her by surprise and she usually would’ve packed it up right away seeing as though Harry had sloppily written ‘PRIVATE’ in block letters at the tops and sides.

Her curiosity got to her, however, when she caught the visual of a red envelope with a heart sticker closing it, addressed to ‘Harry’ with more hearts and little doodles. And there was no excuse for her scrambling with the flaps and scuffing the edges of the white legal paper. It was penned nicely but the words on the paper hurt her heart more than she hoped to feel this day.

“Dear Harry,”

It read and there were no stopping Y/N’s curious eyes from reading the smooth ink curved on the letter.

“I hope you’re doing well. I know I’d be feeling better if you were around. I’m sorry. Let’s just get that out of the way. I made a mistake with leaving you—breaking us apart was not something that I wanted. I hope you know how much I loved you when we were together. I still feel so attached to you, like I can’t move on. I guess you have that effect on people.

I love you a lot, Harry. And I’m only now realizing how strong my feelings are for you when you have probably moved on, but I pray that you remember how true and honest our feelings were for each other. You loved me too, didn’t you? Do you still love me?”

The swirly question mark blossomed a spark of ache in Y/N’s chest. There was no date written anywhere and the paper seemed crisp enough to be considered recent.

“I miss you, H. If you could give me another chance to prove myself to you, I will do whatever it takes.”

Y/N’s heart was pumping blood through the veins of her ears but somehow it felt like it was amplified two-fold. She heard every rush of hot heat swirling through her brain and her cheeks flamed up from embarrassment and doubt. How could she have thought that Harry would settle with someone like her?

“We had good times together, and maybe we can recreate some of that now. You know how to reach me. I love you, H”

There was worry plaguing her every being and her eyes couldn’t help but well up in tears from realization. A slap to the face, a reality check—this letter was anything but a confirmation of Harry and Y/N’s loving relationship. It seemed as if every fundamental thing they built together was slowly crumbling in pieces and Y/N wasn’t sure why she was letting such a letter affect how she felt and thought of Harry.

“Love, Camille.”

A tear slipped from her chin, staining the plain white in a droplet of wetness and Y/N couldn’t find it in her to care about the ruined contraption despite seeing the liquid disperse evenly. What if he was considering this? Y/N’s mind was conjuring up every point and dot of Harry’s behavior—if he was acting even remotely distant or if she was just playing tricks on herself to confirm what she had yet to believe.

Was she jealous? Was she insecure? Of course, she was seeing as though she was nothing compared to his exes. But this situation also goes to show what she actually thought of Harry. He was definitely honest in everything he did, and Y/N knew that there was no reason for her to doubt him. So why was she so troubled about reading this letter from Camille?

She was left in the depths of the unknown—trying to work out why she was hurting so much. Sobbing on the floor to the point of extremity with the paper slightly fragmented in her palm–he was all she had. Y/N couldn’t lose Harry because he was her world—he was everything to her. Y/N guesses that if they had something to talk about, Harry would have suggested speaking about it by now, but he hasn’t.

Until then, Y/N was left to let her mind be injected with unwanted thoughts till’ Harry takes it upon himself to spill what needed to be said. If there needed be.

Y/N’s shoulders shook as her palms covered her wet sockets, tears slipping between her fingers as she re-read the whole letter—furthermore adding conclusion with no sufficient evidence into the mix. Surely, he was planning on getting back together with her. There was no other reason why he would leave the letter in his private box. Absolutely none.

“Y/N, I’m home!” Harry shouted from the floor below. She could hear the faint rustling of the paper bags that his large hands must’ve taken hold off before setting them on the countertop. Drawers and doors opened and closed while Harry sorted everything out in its proper place.

Y/N tried her best to stop her chest from heaving but the damage was already done. Her eyes were a twinge of red, nose a blush pink and snot was effortlessly dripping to her Cupid’s bow. Her heart was torn just as she wished the letter was.

“I got you your favorite macarons,” Harry called out before he appeared on the doorway of their bedroom.

He turned the corner, seeing Y/N sitting quietly on the floor—shoulders slouched that seemed to be pushed down by the tense atmosphere of the room. “What’s wrong, lovie?”

His brows furrowed in concern, sock-clad feet rushing to where she situated with a rush. Broad arms wrapped around her, making her feel safe and comfortable. But not this time. It felt like she was being encompassed by a mass of lies and she couldn’t help but shrug it off as quickly as he planted them.

“Hey,” He asked with an almost offended tone. “Did I do something—oh,” Harry trailed off when he caught sight of the letter clutched in Y/N’s hand tightly. He closed his lids, shaking his head, moving his curls along with it.

“I-i though I threw that away,” He mumbled. Fingers pointed to brush over his brows. Y/N was silent for a few seconds, deciding carefully in her next words.

“Well, you didn’t.” She pursed her lips, looking away from his emerald eyes.

There was a pregnant pause between them—neither of them knowing what to say to each other.

“I wasn’t planning on getting back together with her,” He sighed out, “Ever.”

“Why did you keep the letter?” Y/N deteriorated. She wasn’t going to take some excuse for this.

“I swear I thought I threw it out but–“

“But it’s still here, Harry!” She cut him off, voice cracking near the end as tears developed once more in her eyes. “It must mean something to you,”

He shook his head quickly, eyes widening as his hands wavered to deny her conclusions. “It doesn’t mean anything to me. Camille doesn’t mean anything to me, Y/N.”

She stared at him hard, trying to find any signs of deception in his face, in his stance—any visual part that she could see of him.

“She said she loves you..” Y/N cleared her throat, looking away uncomfortably.

“I don’t love her,” Harry took Y/N’s shoulders in his hold, keeping her facing him. “I love you.”

At that moment, Y/N could see the sincerity oozing from his pupils. The love he projected in his glassy eyes (because his emotions got the better of him) affected her in a good way. His lips set in a pout while the crease between his brows became prevalent because he was worrying that this would be the end of them. And he prayed that it wasn’t.

“But she—,” Y/N craned her neck, trying to look away to jab another point at him.

“She,” Harry emphasizes. “Doesn’t mean anything to me. You do.” His voice diluted into a silent whisper, softly stroking each word with his tongue.

Instead of saying anything, Y/N wrapped her arms around his middle—hugging him close to her. His warmth was all she needed to calm all her absurd thoughts down.

Harry blinked sluggishly at her surprising action, before smiling down at his love—eyes welling in happiness at her actions. He kissed the top of her head tenderly, slightly sniffling the coconut shampoo she washed it with. She smells like home. With her, Harry is home.

“So you got me macarons?”

—–

permanent taglist; @ynm1505 @kissme-hs @agoddamnmango @calums-sugarbaby @harrys-kingdom @queenbeestuffs @ashkuuuu @kettxo @send-me-styles @ofpeppermintbay @littledreamybeth @trustfulhaz @harrysfeastedflower @harrystxleslx @befourep @moonandstars-xo @babebenhardy @swayingnoodlelove @mendesromano @harrystylinsince1994 @juliassgem @miscll-fangirl @little-dragon-ate-my-heart @myfangirlworld @haroldssfedora @winchesterwife27 @w0wfxck @particularnarry @llandaaa @redaesthetlc

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casseythebee · 5 years

Text

Mirror Mine (Peter Parker x reader AU)

Title: Mirror Mine

Prompt: Soulmate AU where when your soulmate writes something on their skin it shows up on yours and vice versa

Summary: You go with your dad to one of Tony Stark’s party and there you meet him

Pairing: Peter Parker x Female!Reader

Words: 1.8k-ish

Warning: slight swearing (blame Bucky “What the hell” Barnes, and fluff

A/N: I know reader inserts usually have your age but in the story, the reader is on the younger side just so it makes sense with the story, sorry. Most of the ships aren’t cannon but just roll with it.

“Absolutely not.”

Your father looked instantly pissed when you walked into the room. You were heading to one of the biggest nights of your father’s career. It was one of Tony Stark’s big parties and your father had been invited to spark up some business deal or whatever, you honestly had no clue. He was supposed to bring your mother as a plus one, but your little brother had fallen ill with a slight cold, and she wanted to stay with him.

“What’s wrong?” you ask throwing your hands in the air and rolling your eyes.

He gestures to your clothes and says in a disgusted tone of voice, “There is no way you are wearing that. This is a big night for me and I need you to look amazing and act amazingly.”

A tight red plaid mini skirt fit snugly on your hips, under the skirt black tights hugged your toned legs, and a black crop top accentuated your curves. You had smacked blood-red lipstick, a messy braid fell down your shoulders along with a golden chain necklace. And to tie the whole outfit together, a nice black leather jacket.

“I knew this would happen so I went out last night and picked out a dress, let's go try it on,” your mom chimes in.

“Okay but please be quick, ladies,” your dad says.

“The dress is gorgeous and I can redo your makeup to match, oh you are going to look so pretty!” your mom exclaims leading you into her room.

“Names,” a cold voice demands to your father.

“(Y/D/F/N) and my plus one is my daughter (Y/F/N),” your father reassures him handing him the invitation he got at work. It’s a small, ivory piece of paper with swirly, gold letters printed on it.

“Isn’t she a little young?” the buff bouncer asks tipping down his glasses and looking you up and down.

“That my kind sir is none of your damn business.”

With your arm linked through your fathers, you guys walk into the Avengers compound and head through the all-white front foyer- your father's shoes making clacking noises while your ballet shoes are utterly silent- and head to the glass elevator. Your father presses a higher number, number 10, as the elevator travels upwards you catch quick glances of the other rooms, they all look like living spaces, and one sterile-looking hallway with many doors branching off.

When the elevator finally stops you guys step out of the elevator and look out into the room. It is filled with people, some you recognize some you don’t, the girls all wearing elegant dresses, and the men suits and tuxedos. There is a massive bar on one wall, some couches scattered around everywhere, a wall made entirely of windows, a DJ booth on another wall, speakers placed at random everywhere, and a dance floor in the middle.

“Okay so the objective is to mingle around with as many people as possible, okay?” your dad explains.

You give him a light shake of your head and he drops your arm and struts over to a group of people, completely at ease. Not sure what to do you follow him towards the group.

When he gets to the group they all exclaim his name and welcome him in like they’ve known him for years.

“I said go mingle, and be polite, and just make a good example.” He shoves you off lightly.

Not sure what he means by make a good impression you head over to the bar to get a drink. Noticing how young you are the bartender completely ignores you by serving everyone else around you. No one notices that you are there and does nothing to help you.

“Can I get a glass of champagne and an old-fashioned?” a smoky voice asks.

You look up to see none other than James Buchanan Barnes the former Winter Soldier. He has his hair slick back and a plain black tux. “You are James Buchanan Barnes,” you marvel. Then you shake your head and add, “I’m sorry if that was rude.” You look down at the bar ashamed of your behavior.

“Hey, it’s fine. Really you’d be surprised how many people here look at me and see the terrifying ‘Winter Soldier’. It’s nice to meet someone who sees me for me.”

“Oh yeah, I know none of that ‘Winter Soldier’ stuff is your fault. I mean you are a great person so I guess that’s all that matters,” you say with a shrug.

He chuckles and asks, “Can I buy you a drink?”

“Oh no, I can’t drink! I’m too young to drink. I’m just trying to get water.”

“Thank you. Can I also get water please?”

James Buchanan Barnes takes a sip of his old fashioned and asks, “Wait if you are so young what the hell are you doing at one of Tony Stark’s parties?”

“Well my dad is here to make a good impression to these people for his job and my mom would have been his date but she had to stay home to take care of my brother. So he brought me.” You punctuate the sentence with a shrug.

“Well how about you come over and meet the gang? Come with me.” He starts walking away but adds, “You can call me Bucky by the way.”

Remembering what your dad said about being polite you promise yourself not to drool over the heroes and make a fool of yourself. Bucky leads you over to one of the couches, there are some people sitting on it some around it. You recognize all of them even in their fancy clothing.

“Okay so this is Nat she is Russian and angry, don’t cross her. Tony the genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist. Stevie the blond beauty.” Steve’s face blushes bright red. “Thor the muscular alien king. Loki the trickster he will try to kill you at some point, but it is okay because he is really just a softy.” Loki gives him a grunt and a dirty look. “Bruce, he is also a big softy, but don’t make him angry. Sam he really sucks, we just hang out with him because we pity him. Rhodes now him we all love. Peper, now she is the best, like the best, we all love her. Nick, he scares me, but I’m sure there is a sweetie inside under all of the angry shell. Clint, he is dumb and shoots arrows. Scott, he can make himself small and do close up magic. And everyone this is… I actually don’t know.”

“My name is (Y/N). And it’s nice to meet all of you. I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

“Nonsense, we were just discussing soulmates. Where were you, Mr. Blond Beauty?” Tony teases.

“I… was uh saying that when Bucky was regaining his memory, he would write little notes on his hands and they would show up on mine. It was kind of like a little peek into his head.”

“Yeah, I get Stevie’s doodles on my skin,” Bucky swoons. They are staring lovingly into each other's eyes and everyone but you seems to find it disgusting and annoying.

“Ignoring that, sometimes I see equations and whatnot show up on my skin, and I think it’s kind of cute seeing what Jane is working on when I’m not around,” Thor admits with a shrug.

“Same!” Pepper and Natasha sigh at the same time, and that earns a chuckle out of everyone, a smirk from Tony, and a blush from Bruce.

“Yeah every once and a while I get equations on my hands when Hope needs to remember stuff,” Scott adds rolling up his sleeve to show everyone.

“What about you, (Y/N)? Any cool stuff on your skin?” Tony asks turning to you.

Every eye in the group is staring at you. You can feel all of them beating down on you. You can’t mess up and embarrass your family so you simply say, “Yeah I guess, a phone number and a name here and there. Most of the time it is just due dates for projects at school.”

“Sorry, I’m late Mr. Stark. Everyone else, sorry,” says a cute little squeaky voice coming up behind you. The person the voice belongs to sits down next to you, almost on top of you. He has soft brown eyes, fluffy brown hair, a sharp jawline, and a smile that could light up the room.

“Hey kid, nice suit,” Mr. Stark says, admiration in his eyes.

“Where have you been, Pete?” Steve asks, leaning over you to tousle his hair.

His face turns ruby red. “I had to wait for Aunt May to get out of work so she could drive me.” The boy scans the room his eyes stopping at you, he looks you up and down his jaw practically dropping to the floor.

A navy blue ball gown is fanned out around you. The dress itself is a bit poofy at the bottom and floor-length, and it is decorated with lace appliques. White eyeshadow tinted with gold sparkles dusts your eyes and lip gloss coats your lips. You and your mom decide on just doing natural hair just using hairspray to keep it in a position you like.

The boy's brown eyes skim over you again, stopping at your breasts before moving on to your lips, your nose, your shimmering eyes, and lands on your hair framing your face.

“Hi,” he breathes a little smile on his face. “I’m Peter by the way.”

“I’m (Y/N).” You look down your skin tinged red as a blush creeps up your neck and onto your cheeks.

“How about you, sweetie?” Natasha asks looking at Peter. “What kind of stuff shows up on your skin?”

“Oh my gosh, it is the most beautiful thing,” he gushes, “swirls and flowers and all kinds of designs. I love it every time I wake up there is a new one.” He pauses. “One night I was up late doing homework and I sat there for almost an hour watching the ink flow onto my skin. It was a few minutes until 4 by the time I couldn’t stand being up that long so I collapsed and by the time I woke up there was pen marks up my left arm almost like a sleeve tattoo.”

You run your hand up your arm and goosebumps appear.

“What is that on your arm, (Y/N)?” Bruce asks gesturing towards you.

A surprised noise escapes your mouth and you look down reading the marks on the backside of your palm. They read, “Don’t forget to ask Tony about the rose for Aunt May”.

“Um, it’s… just, um,” you stutter.

Next to you, Peter’s eyes go wide as he reads and he slaps his hands over his mouth in surprise. Everyone can clearly see what is written on his hand matches what is on yours.

“Well, you know what that means!” Tony whoops.

Next thing you know you and Peter are caught in a dog pile as everyone in the group is on top of you.

The rest of the night you and Peter take turns answering each other's and the rest of the group’s questions as a “get to know you”.

#peter parker #tony stark #Steve Rogers #bruce banner #natasha romanoff #Bucky Barnes #thor #loki odinson #scott lang #james rhodes #pepper potts #clint barton #nick furry #sam willson #fanfic #marvel #marvel fanfiction #peter parker x reader

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caroline18mars · 5 years

Text

A Man On Fire - Chapter 61

With her legs shaking, she walked down the stairs, money was running a little too low again to keep ordering in, going out and getting groceries was cheaper, the only problem was that she hadn't really gone out for what? Days? Weeks? Ok, here you go, she pulled open the door and slowly stepped out onto the pavement where she was nearly run over by a guy on a bike. Hello New York, she rolled her eyes and carefully went on her way to the local supermarket, it was freezing but the sun was out, normally this would be her kind of weather, but being a bit undercome, right now it only gave her a headache. Stop moping, just keep walking, get your muscles going again and enjoy doing something brainless and totally simple, the only thing you have to do is make a choice in groceries. The supermarket was crowded and noisy and for a second she hesitated, maybe she should do this another time, no, just go in and let yourself get human again, she took a shopping basket and started her round, fresh vegetables, fruit, water, bread, vitamines were on the menu of priorities. Slowly she walked through the aisles, loading up her basket she started to make her way to the check-out, “hello Miss, haven't seen you in a while, how was Europe?” the cashier who she always had a little chat with every time she came here smiled at her. And just like that, the wind was knocked out of her “uhmm, fine yeah” what else was she supposed to say? My lover dragged me across Europe, cheating on me without me knowing and having a good laugh about it?. “It must be so nice to have such a famous man in your life, I saw some pictures of you two..I follow his instagram you see..” Ok enough, she quickly pushed all her purchases in her carrier bags “what's the damage?” she quickly cut her off and didn't wait for her answer, swiping her card through the machine. Out of breath and on the verge of hyperventilating she stumbled out of the supermarket and back onto the pavement, there was no escaping him, she could run from him all she could, but she couln't outrun social media and his followers while all she wanted was to disappear from view and get her anonymity back.

What time was it in NY? Would she be up yet? Oh come on, think Jared, you're in LA, ok hours earlier in NY right? Oh fuck it, he tapped on her number and held the phone to his ear, he could actually hear the blood pump through his head. “You've reached Harper's voicemail, please leave a message after the beep”, goddamn voicemail “Hey babe..it's me..again..I wanted to wish you a happy birthday..I just wish I was there with you..but..anyway, I wanted to let you know that I'm thinking of you..and I love you..very much..please forgive me..so..happy birthday honey..I love you” he breathed and slowly disconnected the call. That's when it got too much for him, he sank down on a chair at his kitchen counter and cried his eyes out, on the other side of the country, Harper stepped down from her scaffolding to wash out some brushes, a little break, she had been going for hours and she was hungry, on her way to the kitchen she turned the heating up a few notches and held her cold hands above the heating, they were cramping up and she wanted to keep going tonight. She sat down with a glass of wine and her cupcake that she had saved, 'happy birthday to me' she sadly smiled and slowly took a bite from the sweet treat, her eyes drifted over her kitchen, she needed to do dishes soon..her phone..leave it..but like a magnet she reached for the device, ignore the mails..she took another bite of her cake and let the phone vibrate back to life..maybe take some pictures of the progress on her paintings. What the..once again her screen piled up with notifications..her voicemail was full? Great, start deleting then..but she must have pushed a wrong button because suddenly Jared's voice drifted through the room on speaker “Hey babe..it's me..again..I wanted to wish you a happy birthday..I just wish I was there with you..but..anyway, I wanted to let you know that I'm thinking of you..and I love you..very much..please forgive me..so..happy birthday honey..I love you”. She nearly choked as her throat went completely dry and painful, tears bubbling up in her eyes..he remembered..stupid fuck..so saying happy birthday was gonna make it all better? Fuck you, Jared..the only way to stop him is to reply..just not now..there's more important things at hand like finishing a couple of paintings.

It's pointless so stop checking your phone, he put it down but then there was a bleep, her bleep and his breath got stuck in his throat

From: HCDeRobiano

To: BJLCubbins

Subject: stop

Jared,

stop blowing up my phone, I'm not interested in this huge charm operation, I can't handle it.

You did what you did, so there's nothing to talk about anymore.

Leave me alone, ok? Let my heart heal, I'm done with having you splatter it over the floor and me having to scrape it back together, even telling you this is probably causing you to have to biggest gloating session ever witnessed because that's how you roll isn't it?

And that was a rhetorical question, so in case you don't know what that is: I don't need an answer, so kindly refrain from mocking me and driving the knife in even deeper.

Harper

Fuck..his stomach plummeted in his chest and dark spots danced in front of his eyes, no..babe please..what did I expect though? She's over me, she's over..US..I can't go on like this, I just can't..I'm never gonna see you again, am I? Harper Coco De Robiano d'Arby, this just can't be true.

“Hey, wanna come and help unload the Christmas tree? Mom's just arrived, it's huge” Shannon waltzed inside the kitchen, stopping in his tracks when he saw his baby brother sitting there with his face buried in his arms. “What's going on?” he sat down next to him and saw the phone still clutched in his hand “Harper?” stupid question, who else could bring him down like this? He'd seen his share of Jared's breakups, but this one? Oh no, he'd never seen him in this state, he was actually suffering. Jared slowly raised his head and shrugged, he couldn't talk, couldn't get himself to actually say something, what was there left to say? “OK, I get it..all the more reason to stop moping and come help us decorate that damn tree, it'll take your mind of things, and if that doesn't work then we can always go out afterwards and drink ourselves into a stupor? See, I'm full of brilliant ideas, so come on”

”So she actually replied”? Shannon was surprised to see him nod, the flames in the fire basket at the back of the garden lit up the lines on Jared's face, “yeah..she hates..no she loathes me, doesn't want to have anything to do with me” his lips turned to the thinnest line while he stared into the fire, lost in his thoughts. “Maybe she feels a bit..overwhelmed by your calls and stuff..give her a little time” he was running out of things to say, “how much time and how much space can I give her? I haven't seen or spoke to her in weeks..it's her birthday and..just the thought that she has to spend it on her own is killing me”. Jared ran his hand over his face “we'll never even get a first Christmas together”, that's when the light in Shannon's head popped on “but we're in New York then..you could go see her” he hopefully raised his eyebrows like he had found the ultimate solution. “NO!!” Jared shot up out of his seat like he was stung by a bee “forget it, I'm not going over there..I can't handle her rejection again, no, no way, no fuckin' way!” his chair toppled over as he ended the conversation by stomping back over to the house.

Harper yawned over her cup of coffee, she didn't get much sleep after what happened yesterday, no don't think about it, block it from your mind, her eye fell on the small pile of post that she had dropped on the kitchen counter after her daily walk to the bakery. Slowly she started rummaging through it, bills, bills, just when she was about to push it away again, there was a beautiful envelope with a swirly handwriting, bitten with curiosity she carefully opened it. It was a personal invitation from the owner of the biggest and most renowned art gallery of New York inviting her to his Christmas dinner/party, every year she would stare at the pictures of the same most exclusive party in glossy magazines. She kept reading as the letter was completely personalized, saying that he saw her work on Instagram and that he was looking forward to meeting her and talk about the future..whatwhatwhat? She had to re-read that last line to make absolutely sure she didn't read that wrong. Oh god, should I actually go? I don't know anyone there and going over there alone, stressssss..she took a deep breath, fuck it Harper, just go, you get this one big shot to get your work exposed so what if you're alone? Do you really want to spend christmas eve on your own again with chinese take away? Or do you put on a nice dress and get yourself out there and be around colleagues and kindred spirits? You'll meet new people, it'll be a start to move on, move away from everything that had happened, it's just dinner and you love to dance? She took a pen and filled out the rsvp card, licked the envelope, OMG I actually have plans for christmas now..she pushed herself off her chair and crawled on her scaffolding, let's finish this baby, she grinned for the first in a long time, strange how a stupid thing like an invitation could actually put the light on again.

Jared stood in front of the mirror fidgeting with that stupid bow tie, “Jared? You ready? The car is waiting” Shayla hammered on the door, sighing he walked over and yanked it open, “I would be if you would fix this bloody thing around my neck” he growled at her. Rolling her eyes she pushed him back inside the room and slowly started to tie the fabric in the right way, plucking it a little “there, you look..really handsome” as she admired her work. “Thanks” he whispered, but he knew she was lying when he looked in the mirror again, his long hair was tied back in a low messy bun and he was wearing a designer tux and on the outside none of this pain and heartache was visible except for a few extra lines on his face, but inside..he felt so empty and broken. Come on, you can do this, it's just dinner and a party, the usual small talk with friends and people he vaguely remembered from last year, pretending to be happy and alright..it's just a couple of hours, not the rest of your life. He buttoned up his jacket and nodded “let's go” before he followed her out of the room, outside it had started snowing really hard and still this big city was as loud and buzzing as ever, an umbrella was popped open above his head and he was escorted to the waiting car. Harper stood in front of the huge window and saw the cab pull up in front of her building, ok, have I got everything, purse, phone for calling a cab later on, money, credit card, cigarettes, all there, she closed her purse, quickly checked her outfit and ran out the door.

#jared leto #jared leto fanfic #jared leto fanfiction #fanfic #fic #fanfiction #30 Seconds To Mars #30secondstomars #30 seconds to mars fanfic #a man on fire #chapter 61 #Harper Coco #Harper and Jared #caroline18mars

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derpinathebrave · 7 years

Text

All’s Fae in Love and War

Read on AFF

Summary: Jae has three days to start and finish his oral presentation for university. Brian has three days to help Jae’s crush fall in love with him. Wonpil has three days to watch the pair flounder like idiots in the situation he put them in. After all: All’s Fae in Love and War.

Genre: fluff, myth, romance

Word count: 18,461

Note/warning: jaehyungparkian, tiny bit of side!dopil, cute and fluffy

Jae couldn’t quite remember how he had met Wonpil; it may have been at the cafe where he worked, or possibly in the university library, perhaps even just on the street one day. Jae really had no idea. All he knew was Wonpil was his best friend and had been for some time now. Jae didn’t have many friends other than Wonpil either. There was Dowoon, the guy he worked with at the cafe. They chatted and got along well, sometimes they even went out after work for a few drinks. He had come to watch Jae play one night in a bar, so he supposed they were friends. But Wonpil was definitely his best friend.

It was normal for them to just sit around in Jae’s bedroom on a Wednesday afternoon talking shit and taking the piss out of one another. Wonpil’s favourite thing to do was annoy Jae about his love life, or lack there of. So this particular Wednesday afternoon it was no surprise when Wonpil began his usual teasing.

“Why don’t you just talk to him?” Wonpil complained, hanging his head upside down over the end of the bed to stare at Jae.

“Shut up,” Jae threw a ball of paper at him, missing hopelessly.

“Seriously, next time you see him at the cafe, you just say ‘You’re cute, let’s date’.”

“Can we just not?” Jae complained, not looking up from his assignment notes.

“I could do it for you!” Wonpil rolled over, eyes alight with glee as he caught hold of the new idea.

“No! No way!” Jae shook his head, glasses skittering down to the end of his nose as he did. He pushed them higher, glaring at Wonpil. “Just drop it, I’m fine. I’m too busy for dating.”

“What do you mean too busy for dating?” Wonpil scoffed, throwing his legs over the end of the bed to come and sit across from Jae on the floor.

“Work and university and my guitar gigs are picking up. No time.”

“More like no guts,” Wonpil muttered, stealing a sheet of lined paper and a pen from Jae.

“I have plenty of guts,” Jae’s voice was dark as he continued to flick through textbooks and scrawl out notes. Wonpil only gave a grunt in reply, focused on his new distraction of drawing pink swirly symbols on the paper with the filched pen.

Wonpil was easily distracted; it was the reason Jae could handle all the teasing, it only ever lasted a couple of minutes before Wonpil would spot something more shiny and his brain would skip off after that instead. Jae also found it endearing when he would watch Wonpil hop from one topic to another in a heartbeat, leaving most other people confused and uncomfortable. On more than one occasion Jae had also dragged him away from danger, he maintained that Wonpil needed a friend like him to keep him safe at least. If Wonpil noticed something interesting across a busy street, he would simply begin to step out into traffic to go after it. Jae was rattled in the beginning, lecturing Wonpil at length about it, now he was so used to it he didn’t even look up from his phone while he caught Wonpil’s arm and dragged him back onto the sidewalk properly.

Jae sunk into his world of data and statistics as he researched his assignment, barely noticing Wonpil still scratching away, now at multiple sheets of paper. He had three days to finish his oral presentation and present it to a lecture theatre of his peers. He was barely even started. He had spent the first 2 weeks after receiving the assignment sour at the fact that he had to do an oral presentation. This was university, he thought he’d left that class participation crap back in high school. Now, he realised that this was university and any and all bitching he had would fall on deaf ears. This was a do-it-or-flunk situation.

Hours later, when his brain was sending his eyes an Error 404 - Brain Not Found code, Jae finally stretched his lanky arms above his head and set down his notebook and pen. Wonpil was long gone, having wandered off sometime in the afternoon. Jae was used to that as well, Wonpil appeared and disappeared on a mere whim. At times it felt as though he could literally materialise where ever Jae was.

Looking around his room he realised that while he had been busy so had Wonpil. His room was papered in the swirly drawings Wonpil had been intent on. They were stuck to his pinboard over his chaotic desk, stuck to the wall over his bed, even on the wooden divider of the window pane. The back of his door, the bookcase, Jae’s Maroon 5 poster (right on Adam Levine’s head), nowhere in the room had been spared from the Decoration of Wonpil. Jae sighed and rolled his eyes. It was pretty typical really, he would take them down when he found time. Right now he needed food and a shower, and maybe a nap.

Jae didn’t make it to his nap, he spent some time strumming out new tunes on his guitar before his parents got home and called him down for dinner. With that finished he returned to studying for a while; more notes scrawled out in his barely legible writing before he realised that it was no use if he couldn’t actually read them later. With an exhausted sigh, he left his studying things in a mess on the floor, turned out the light and climbed into bed.

Rolling over to find a comfortable position, Jae heard the tell-tale crackle of paper being crumpled. He squeezed his eyes shut, cursing Wonpil vehemently in his mind. As he sat up: more crackling of paper. He turned his lamp on to find that Wonpil had covered his mattress in the same swirly drawings, now with a distinct Jae-sized wrinkle in them.

“I get that you really like this pattern, but did you have to put it everywhere?” Jae grumbled, glaring down at his bed. As he bent to start sweeping the papers to the floor a different page caught his eye. “Tha mi a’guidhe ort Brian,” He read clumsily. Jae pursed his mouth in confusion, “Who’s Brian?”

Wondering just what was wrong with his best friend Jae proceeded to dump the papers off the bed. Wonpil had laid them three pages thick, Jae found two more copies of the weird nonsensical words. Each time he spotted them he wondered again who Brian was; Wonpil never really talked about anyone else and Jae would recognise a name like Brian. He shrugged, sing-songing the words aloud again. They had a funny ring to them, even though he was moderately sure he wasn’t saying it right.

“Tha mi” slight pause, “a’guidhe,” another pause, “ort Brian.”

Jae sung to himself as he worked, finally clearing the bed and climbing back in. With a content sigh, he flicked the light off. He would have to think of a prank to pay Wonpil back later, after his oral assignment was finished. Maybe he could wrap Wonpil’s room in tin foil, that would be apt.

He was slipping over the precipice of sleep when something dipped into the mattress by his feet. Jae muttered something and tried to kick the cat away. He didn’t own a cat though. With a yell and a vicious kick, Jae scooted all the way up to his headboard and tried to see through the thick darkness. It was a man. There was a person at the end of his bed! He screamed again, leaping from the covers and diving for the door. His feet tangled in the mess he had left strewn around from studying and he crashed hard against the carpet. Now he was dead, his only hope was that his parents had heard him and would come to save him from being axe murdered. He clenched his eyes shut and waited.

Nothing happened.

With shaky movements, slow and steady so as to not frighten his murderer into a homicidal rage, Jae turned. The man was still sitting on the end of the bed. Now that his eyes were fully adjusted to the dim Jae saw that the man was smirking a little, his face a beautiful symmetry with too-perfect eyes. His hair was dark and hanging on his forehead a little, his clothes plain and nondescript. He didn’t appear to have a weapon of any sort, no axe, no knife, no nothing.

“Are you ok?” He spoke, a quiet voice that actually gave Jae a slight shiver.

“Uh,” Jae floundered. What did one say to their potential stalker? Clearly he wasn’t there to murder Jae, but watching him in his sleep was definite creepy stalker action. He didn’t speak again, simply waiting for a reply. Jae’s brain came up with only one response and after an inordinate amount of time he gave up and said it. “What are you doing on my bed?”

“You summoned me,” The man shrugged, spreading his palms to the ceiling, “So here I am.”

Jae’s eyebrows rose, coming together in concern for the mental stability of this guy. He finally pulled himself into a sitting position, hugging his knees reflexively.

“Uh, what?” Yet again his brain couldn’t seem to find more eloquent or useful words.

“You summoned me. So, can we get on with it?”

“Get on with what? Summoned? What’s wrong with you?!” Jae cried, scooting back away from this clearly deranged person in his room. Finally his brain lit upon a reasonable idea. Call the police, there’s a man in your bedroom! His phone was on the bedside table, not two feet from his intruder.

“You summoned me, I’m here to help you with whatever the problem is. So if we could get a bit of hustle, because I’d prefer to go back to my interment if you’re going to treat me like something you’ve found on your shoe.”

Jae’s brain turned up blank once more. He simply gaped. This man was definitely off his rocker.

“What the heck are you talking about? Just… get out of my house before I call the police!” Jae struggled to his feet and backing towards the door.

“Why are you being so weird?” The man asked, looking around the dark room. “You’re the one with all the summoning runes on the walls, why would you summon me and then tell me to get out?”

“What?” The word was a squeak as Jae’s jaw fell slack.

Wonpil.

“The summoning runes, all forty thousand of them you’ve drawn up. In pink, for bonus points?” He cocked an eyebrow at Jae before continuing on. “Why would you put them all up and then sing the little song if you didn’t want me summoned?”

Jae’s mouth moved up and down, trying to make words come out. There were none.

“Uh, OK, now you’re starting to freak me out,” The guy said, pulling his legs up to sit in a tailor seat on the bed.

Jae thought that was a little much, coming from the mysterious intruder, but his brain was far more occupied with the fact that Wonpil had papered his room in pink summoning runes. That should sound insane, that should have Jae sprinting downstairs and hollering for the police, but it didn’t.

“Wh-” Jae stopped, he didn’t know what else to say or do but ask this question, “What’s your name?”

He was given an almost surprised look in return and then an answer.

“Brian, Fae of Love and Attraction; at your service.” He jumped up and swept a flourishing bow to Jae. Jae started at the sudden movement and then whined as his theory was confirmed.

“You’re Brian?” Jae pointed, his stomach clenching, “From the gibberish and Brian?”

Brian nodded, eyebrows high with alarm as Jae pointed at him like a zombie.

“What gibberish?” Brian asked, “Are you OK?”

“The… The words! The gibberish, the only part I understood was Brian,” Jae burst, throwing his pointing finger around in exasperation. He crossed the room and snatched up a piece of paper, turning it for Brian to read in the dark.

“That’s the summoning spell! What is wr-” Brian petered out, his mouth forming a little O as things seemed to click in place. “You didn’t write that, did you? Or draw these?”

Jae shook his head, lowering his now trembling hand.

“My… My friend did, Wonpil,” That elicited a reaction from Brian, he hissed like a cat and his shoulders arched. Jae was sure if he had fur it would all be on end.

“Of course!” Brian cried, throwing his hands up aggressively, “Of course it was him! That scheming…” Brain’s voice wandered off into a dark mutter as Jae shrunk away from him once more. His eyes flashed and he pinned Jae with them. “Where is he? Take me to him now.”

“I…” Jae’s huddled body fell limp, head tilting to one side slightly, “I don’t know where he is. I’ve never…”

Why hadn’t he ever noticed that he didn’t know where Wonpil lived? He hadn’t ever realised that they never went anywhere but Jae’s place?

“Of course you don’t,” Brian’s voice was not acerbic, as Jae expected, but resigned.

“What the hell is going on?” Jae mumbled weakly, crumpling onto the floor. He stared around in the dark, there was nothing but summoning runes scattered everywhere.

“I’m Brian, I’m a fae of love and affection. Wonpil is also a fae, he’s mostly just an ass though.” Brian crossed the short distance to sit on the floor across from Jae. “You’ve summoned me, albeit by accident, but it means that I’m here for the next three days to help you in you quest for love and affection.” His tone was soulless as he spoke. “I, a fae, will assist you magically in any way you require until your one true love has become yours.”

Jae managed a weak smile at Brian.

“Don’t sound so enthusiastic about helping me,” He joked before letting out a sigh. “Truth is, Brian, I don’t have a ‘one true love’. Wonpil just likes to give me shit about liking a customer from the cafe. I think he’s taken the joke a little too far though.”

“Wonpil doesn’t know how to do anything less than ‘too far’.”

Jae’s already tired brain gave up and he yawned for a long time before speaking again.

“OK, I can’t deal with this right now. Are you an axe murderer?” Jae asked, rubbing his tired eyes.

“No. I’m a fae.”

“Like a fairy?”

“I suppose,” Brain growled, Jae managed a smile.

“Prove it,” Jae shrugged. For a moment nothing happened and he began to panic again. Then the papers with the runes gathered themselves from the walls and floor, shifting into an orderly line in the air overhead. With a soft rustling that resembled trees stirring in the wind, the pages folded themselves until fifty paper cranes floated around. The cranes settled on every available surface except the bed as Jae watched in wonder.

“Ta da,” Brain muttered as the last crane came to rest on the bedside table.

“Wow,” Jae nodded, impressed. “OK, time for sleep. And when I wake up this weird dream will be finished. And I can kick Wonpil’s ass for giving me tripped out dreams with his prank.” Jae climbed to his feet and stepped past Brian. The fae’s face was amused as Jae climbed into the bed, pulled the cover over his back and rolled to face the wall. With a sad sigh he stretched his own self on the floor and tried to go to sleep. In the morning, when Jae realised he was really there, they would find Wonpil together and kick his ass.

Sunlight teased Jae’s eyes, prickling them until he was aware that he was no longer asleep. With a small groan he rolled his face into his pillow to hide from the light. As he moved he remembered his odd dreams. A fairy named Brian had come to help him find love. He snorted. What kind of a name was Brian for a fairy? All that studying must have affected his brain.

“Jae!” There was a hammering on his door, “Get up! You have class at 9!” His mother’s voice was loud through the door. Jae wanted to ignore her, pretend to go on sleeping. If he did that however, she would open the door and hassle him out of bed. She would discover the absolute state he had left his room in that night and then she would yell louder. It was too early for that much yelling.

“I’m up!” He called back, flopping over onto his back and staring at the ceiling.

“Good!” She moved on down the hall, footsteps fading down the stairs.

After another few minutes of procrastination, Jae sat up and rubbed his eyes. When he cleared the sleep away, he threw his legs over the side. On to something squishy. On to something that protested at being stepped on. On to Brian; the fairy of love and affection.

Jae knew he should be screaming, but his mind was yet again left blank with shock. Brian was scowling up at him from the floor, shoving Jae’s legs off and sitting up himself.

“Excuse me,” Brian snapped, “It’s bad enough I have to sleep on the floor. Could you please not step on me too?”

“You’re real?” Jae stammered, eyes wide as he took in Brian in the daylight. His hair was a plummy purple, the eyes less uncanny now Jae could see them in the light, his nose was strong and lips quite normal. But Jae got stuck on his cheekbones. He was a sucker for cheekbones, and Brian had them in spades.

“Real as you are,” Brian grouched, still scowling at Jae from the floor.

It was then Jae took in the rest of his room; every surface covered in small paper cranes, swirling pink lines covering each one haphazardly. The magic show from the night before was real too. Jae felt the blood drain from his head and his feet plonked back down into Brian’s lap.

There was a real, actual fairy sitting on his floor looking pissed. With purple hair and killer cheekbones.

“Do we have to go through all of this again?” Brian asked with a sigh, “Because if you don’t mind I might sleep through the pointless crisis part. Wake me up when you’re ready to put me to work on the one true love.” He stretched back out and closed his eyes once more. Jae spluttered, a million things whirling through his brain.

He had a fairy. How did one take care of a fairy? Also, why wasn’t he smaller with wings and a dress made of leaves? And was it just him, or was this fairy particularly cantankerous? Was that normal or was Jae’s fairy defective? And what ‘true love’? If he didn’t actually have a ‘true love’ would Brian be here forever? And what kind of a name for a fairy was Brian?

“Jae!” His mother’s voice cut through his thoughts. He jolted, stepping on Brian a third time.

“Ah, I have class first. Then I’ll work out how to feed and care for you,” Jae prattled, leaping over Brian and rushing to grab his towel from the back of the door. “Just stay here, don’t let anyone see you.” Jae told him before slipping out the smallest crack in the door he would fit through.

“I’m not an animal,” Brian’s voice called as Jae snapped the door shut on him.

Jae rushed through his morning routine, only pausing to stare at Brian for almost 2 minutes before he seemed to remember what he was doing. With a flurry of erratic movements Jae barrelled out the front door and headed for his bus stop. As his foot hit the sidewalk Brian caught his eye, leaning against the garden wall with a black fedora-style hat and dark glasses. Jae’s eyes narrowed behind his own glasses, that was his hat and sunglasses. Brian fell into step with him, face bored.

“Is that my shirt?” Jae had also noticed Brian had filched one of his shirts.

“Yup,” Brian’s voice was just as bored as his face.

“You know,” Jae said conversationally as they walked in the sunshine, “You’re pretty grouchy for a fairy.”

“I’m not a damn fairy!” Brian snapped, sneering at the ground.

“But-”

“I’m a fae. There’s a difference.”

“OK, my bad.” Jae nodded to show he understood. He was trying his best to be nice to the fairy… fae. He honestly felt kind of bad for Brian. The guy had been summoned in the middle of the night to someone that didn’t actually need them. It would have been mildly frustrating.

“So what kind of a name is Brian for a mystical being?” Jae tried again, swinging his arms childishly in the hopes to make Brian smile.

Instead he was given stoic silence and a particularly displeased stare. Jae heaved an internal sigh, so much for that idea. He moved on to his next problem instead, what was he going to do with Brian for three days. He had university lectures, work in the cafe and his hellish assignment to get finished; he did not have spare time for a fae. He didn’t even have a ‘one true love’ so he had no idea why Brian was even here, let alone what he would do for three days! Jae’s thoughts continued their tangled tracks until they alighted from the bus and headed for the university cafe. Coffee first and then cognitive thoughts.

The baristas at the uni cafe seemed to change weekly, Jae prattled off his usual order and stood with the other caffeine addicts to wait for his call. Brian pulled his glasses off and stared at Jae in amazement. Jae looked back, bemused by the offended look on the fae’s face.

“I’m sorry, did you want a coffee?” Jae asked, unsure what Brian ate or drank. For all he knew it could have been the nectar of daffodils on a Spring morning.

“Well, you could have at least offered,” Brain complained, rolling his eyes at Jae’s disregard.

“Sorry,” Jae searched his bag before handing Brian his wallet, “Get one for yourself.”

“I can’t,” Brian was seriously irritated now, Jae floundered once more. He couldn’t seem to get anything right with this guy!

“Why not?” Jae pushed the wallet at him again, taking a surreptitious glance around to see if people were staring at him. No one was paying any attention at all, everyone seemed to be zombified by their phone and lack of coffee.

“They can’t see me,” Brian muttered back, catching Jae’s flickering eyes.

“Wait, what?” Jae’s brows furrowed and he replayed their morning commute.

“No, people moved around you to get on and off the bus.”

“It’s complicated. Please, can you just buy me a coffee?” Brian’s voice was almost a whine, but there was definitely more of a command in there. Jae’s eyes narrowed and he sighed.

“Fine.” He moved to line up again, when he reached the server once more he ordered another coffee. Her heavy eyebrows rose and he gestured vaguely towards Brian, “It’s for my friend.” Her eyes found Brian and she nodded before they slid off him as though he had disappeared. Jae watched with fascination. With the order done and paid for he returned to Brian once more. The fae was gazing across the lawns with his arms crossed over his chest. He didn’t acknowledge Jae’s return.

“You’re welcome,” Jae sniped, he was already getting a little tired of the moodiness.

“Yeah, whatever.” Brian shrugged, still not looking at Jae.

“Why can they see you but not?” Jae asked, doing his best to shake off the attitude.

“It’s a glamour, I wear it when I’m on assignment. Added a few years to the whole shebang by having someone else’s ‘one true love’ fall for me by accident.”

It was an answer, but Jae ended up with more questions than he started with. What was a glamour? What assignment? And what exactly was the “shebang” that Brian had “added years to”? It sounded like a prison sentence. He had opened his mouth to begin a new tirade of questions when his name was called. After a slight hesitation he turned to retrieve his coffee. As he raised it to his lips, he paused. Brian was still standing with his arms crossed, face bored behind the sunglasses. Jae’s face pinched and he sighed.

“Here,” He handed the coffee to Brian, “Have this one, I just ordered the same thing twice.”

The fae offered him a new expression for the barest moment. Brows flattening out and his mouth losing the lines of tension that had been present since they woke up. Jae let himself smile; so the fae did have emotions other than bored and annoyed.

“Thanks, I guess.” Brian mumbled, sipping the coffee.

“You’re welcome,” Jae ducked his head and stared at the ground for a while. He wasn’t sure how to deal with the fact that Brian was drop-dead gorgeous, no one else could see him, and Jae didn’t have a ‘one true love’ to be smitten by. If the guy would just stop being so grouchy, Jae might actually develop a little crush. Jae’s other coffee was ready and he collected that too. The pair of them moved on to his lecture hall. “Can I ask why people can see you but not see you? Are you going to get called on by my lecturers or?” Jae left the question hanging, trying to find a way to not set Brian off into a mood.

“I told you, it’s a glamour.” He huffed, Jae’s face fell a little. “Oh, right, you didn’t summon me. Do you know anything about this stuff?”

“This stuff being?”

“Magic.”

“Oh, then no.”

“Geez,” Brian’s mouth twisted as he thought a while. “So, a magic charm I can do is called a glamour. I can change my appearance, sort of. Basically people know I’m there but then sort of forget they saw me right away. It just makes everything simpler.”

Jae nodded, absorbing the information before speaking again.

“So glamours make you kind of invisible,” He stated. Brian huffed and shook his head.

“No, glamours change my appearance.” He corrected as they pushed into the lecture hall and climbed to their seats. “This charm makes people forget me.”

“What else can you do?” Jae wondered aloud, sitting and pulling his notebook out. Brian fell into the seat beside him and arranged his limbs around him nonchalantly. Jae watched with fascination as people stepped over Brian’s protruding ankle without realising they were doing it.

“Regular fae stuff,” Brian shrugged, he was yet to remove his glasses and hat. “Wake me when we’re done, or your OTL arrives.” He mumbled before settling down for a nap in the lecture hall.

Jae spluttered, trying to protest that Brian couldn’t sleep in here and that he didn’t have a one true love at the same time. It was obvious that Brian was already asleep though, so he gave up and did his best to pay attention to the lecture instead.

Except Jae didn’t pay attention in his lecture. He spent the time wondering what the heck he was going to do and how he could get hold of Wonpil. In the past Wonpil had always just shown up when Jae thought about going to see him, Jae used to joke that they were psychically intune. Now he wondered if it was actually literal magic. He had a number in his phone for Wonpil, but he would bet anything that it would just ring out if he tried to call it. If he couldn’t find Wonpil and make him fix it, what could he do?

Maybe Brian knew what they could do? Surely something like this had happened before. Jae hoped it would be a case of waiting out the three days with a prickly fae before everything would go back to normal. If he was lucky he wouldn’t remember anything.

When the lecture was finished Jae checked his watch. He had an hour before his shift at the cafe started. They should get some lunch and then head off for work. Cautiously, he prodded Brian awake beside him. The fae made some adorable squeaking noises as he woke, stretching and sitting up in his seat. Jae watched with a fond look until Brian caught him and scowled fiercely.

“The lecture is over, we should get some food and then I have work,” Jae stood and waited for Brian to move. “What are you going to do while I work?”

“I stick around and wait for your one true love,” Brian shrugged and pulled himself out of his seat. “That’s basically it. Until they show up, I’m just tagging along on your day. No matter how boring it is.” He added the last part in a dark mutter.

Jae began to descend the stairs, watching closely so he didn’t fall. When they reached the door to the lecture hall he glanced back at Brian.

“I already told you though, I don’t have a one true love,” Jae told him as they entered the flow of people in the hallway. He was once again fascinated as people avoided Brian without really noticing they were.

“Yeah, that’s a problem,” Brian agreed.

“What happens after three days if I don’t have a one true love?”

Brian gave a snarky shrug. Jae’s shoulders slumped and he focused on crossing the campus instead. They didn’t speak for the entire walk, or the lunch that Jae bought for them both. Even as Jae led the way back to the bus to head downtown there was stony silence between the pair. Three days couldn’t pass quickly enough. Although, Jae still had a huge assignment hanging over his head, and three days needed to drag into a week for him to get all the work done.

The fae followed Jae like a puppy, pushing into the cafe and crossing the space to the counter a few steps behind him. After giving the brightly lit cafe a cursory glance he perched on the bench tucked against the right wall behind the counter. Jae frowned and put his hands on his hips.

“Get down from there,” He waved a hand at Brian, “You’re dirty.” He ducked down and grabbed a bottle of spray and a cloth. He thrust them both at Brian. “Clean,” He ordered, shaking the bottle of spray.

Brian’s deep eyes rolled but he took the bottle and cloth. Jae set about getting ready for his shift, a coffee coloured apron tied around his hips and a shot already pouring into a cup for himself. As Brian finished his cleaning another employee appeared from the back, giving Jae a high-five and cruising out the front door. Jae glanced up at the ornate clock on the wall, Dowoon was late again.

“Did you want a coffee?” Jae asked. Brian was now leaning against the coffee machine, watching Jae closely.

“Duh,” Brain replied, eyes wandering the cafe before returning to Jae. It was themed with an antique feel. An ornate clock on the wall, leather and brass couches, touches of dark wood as tables and chairs. The left wall was dominated with ceiling-high shelves, nick-knacks and books spread across them haphazardly. Brain begrudgingly admitted it was a pretty cool place.

“You could be nicer to me, you know,” Jae mumbled, finishing off Brian’s coffee and handing it over. He was given a scoff in reply. Jae’s eyes narrowed, his mouth opened to unload a tirade on Brian when the doorbell jangled.

“I’m here! Sorry I’m late!” The other employee scampered across the space, waving to Jae and a few regular customers sitting in the couches.

“It’s fine, Dowoon, it’s not exactly bustling in here.” Jae called back, glare still firmly on Brian.

Jae turned after another moment and retrieved an apron. He tossed it to the passing Dowoon easily. The younger guy tied the apron and glanced from Jae to Brian. Brian openly stared, unconcerned about being caught. The guy, almost still a boy, was a moderate height, with cute wavy hair, and overly kind eyes. Eyes that were lingering on Brian as he sipped his coffee.

“Who’s this guy?” He nodded at Brian. Directly at him.

Jae replied reflexively, “Brian.”

Then seemed to remember people couldn’t, shouldn’t, see him.

“Hi, Brian,” Dowoon gave a little smirk. “Your glamour needs work.”

Jae thought he might faint. He blinked several times, head slowly swivelling from Dowoon to Brian and back again. Was he still dreaming? Was he trapped in some weird alternate reality? What the hell was going on?

“Thanks,” Brian’s voice was acerbic, “But I don’t take tips from low-class witches.”

“Wizard,” Dowoon corrected, “And I never said I wasn’t low-class. Which means your glamour really does need work.” That shut Brian up. He simply sipped his coffee again and turned his eyes to the rest of the cafe.

“Wizard?” Jae finally asked, his voice a little wobbly.

“Yeah,” Dowoon nodded, he looked as though he was about to say more when the door jangled again and an actual customer entered.

As the shift rolled on Jae slowly teased the story from Dowoon. Brian stayed leaning against the coffee machine, looking bored and watching customers.

“My grandma was a witch, pretty powerful really. Mum and dad don’t believe any of this stuff though, so I’ve kind of had to work it out myself.” Dowoon explained between orders as they tidied. “My mentor reckons I’ve got heaps of potential but, I don’t know,” He shrugged in his cheerful way, “How much can you really do with this stuff?”

“So,” Jae nibbled his lower lip, “You’re magic?”

“A bit, I guess.”

“And you know about Brian?”

“Well,” Dowoon tilted his head at the fae, “I know he’s a fae. I guess he’s here to cause trouble. Did you annoy someone, Jae?”

Jae looked from Brian to Dowoon again.

“Uh, no more than usual?” Jae spread his hands to the ceiling in bemusement.

Brain gave a small huff of actual laughter. Jae smiled at him swiftly before turning to serve the newest customer.

“See, the problem is I don’t have a one true love,” Jae explained to Dowoon as he locked the door to the cafe. Dowoon’s brows furrowed as he thought about it. “So, I’m just wondering what Brian is supposed to do for three days. And what will happen after those three days are up?”

The three of them began wandering along the street, moving with the flow of workers heading for their homes. The sky was bruised with twilight and streetlights offered yellow splashes in the growing darkness. As they moved beneath one of the lights Dowoon spoke.

“I have no idea,” He said blithely. Jae groaned with frustration and Brian let out a dark chuckle. “But I know someone that might. If you have time we can go meet him now.”

Jae wavered, he had so much work to do. Surely keeping Brian around for three days would be easy, then he would go… wherever he went. Then Jae remembered that he wanted to call Wonpil and ask him about all this too. As he thought of Wonpil he realised something so painfully obvious that he almost groaned aloud again.

Dowoon had never met Wonpil. Jae hadn’t found it weird until this very moment. The two of them had remained conspicuously separate for the last however long he had known them. If Wonpil was indeed a fae as well, Dowoon would have told him straight away. But Dowoon had never met Wonpil. Clearly for just that reason.

Knowing it was futile, Jae produced his phone and called the elusive fae. It rang out until the message bank picked up.

“Hey there Jae!” Jae almost greeted it in return, he caught himself as Wonpil’s recorded voice carried on. “How did the summoning go? Did you get the Gaelic pronunciation ok? I’m going to be away for a little while, I’m not Brian’s favourite fairy. But you! I know he’ll love you! Have fun. I’ll see you in three days.” There was a click and then the beep. Jae knew it would be recorded but he let out a long string of curses anyway. When his vocabulary ran dry he hung up and faced a rather shocked Dowoon.

“Let’s go now,” Jae grumbled, hefting his bag a little higher on his back. Dowoon nodded, eyes still slightly wide.

Dowoon rattled the door to the shop. A cursive Closed sign was in the glass pane, right beneath more curling script that Jae made out to be Ash and Yew Ecclectica. His eyebrows were so high his blond fringe swallowed them. He hadn’t been to a magic shop before. A laminated page in the window advertised their tarot card readers and something called aura healing. Dowoon knocked loudly on the glass and stood back to wait a while. Jae continued his inspection through the darkened window.

There was a collection of large crystals, purple amethyst and sparkling citrine beneath lights. Either side of the large clusters were literal wands, quartz points on them and leather wrapping around their shafts. Further in the darkness Jae could see bookshelves and what he thought might be displays of herbs. He glanced at Brian, the fae had a strange light in his eyes.

From the back of the store a door opened and a rectangle of light was cast across the shop. A man shuffled through to the door. When he caught sight of his visitors he opened it with a paternal smile.

“Dowoon, it’s a little late for business calls.” His eyes locked onto Brian, the smile didn’t waver. “But when there’s fae involved time doesn’t seem to matter much at all. Come on in and tell me just what has happened here.”

“Thanks, Sungjin.” Dowoon followed the man through the door. Jae waved Brian along next and then moved through himself. They didn’t pause in the darkened shop but proceeded into the back. There were boxes of stock on tables and shelves and a skinny stairway. They trooped up the steps and into Sungjin’s apartment. Jae noticed the air in the apartment felt a little different. With a mental shake he dismissed the idea, this was all ridiculous.

“This is Jae, I work with him.” Dowoon introduced him as Sungjin filled the electric kettle to boil. “That’s Brian.”

Sungjin turned and leant against his bench, brown eyes roving over Jae and then Brian slowly. Jae was busy examining the wizard’s apartment. It was disarmingly normal. No runes on the wall in red paint, no magic wands or pentagrams to be seen; just a well-loved couch, a coffee table covered in novels and empty tea mugs. Brian perched himself on the small table against the wall. Jae was sure he could see a light in the fae’s eyes now. Like he was glowing a little, or was it a small sparkle? He turned his head this way and that to see if the shimmer would move with the light.

Sungjin’s smile widened.

“Brian, fae of love and attraction,” Sungjin spoke as the kettle began to rattle.

“At your service,” Brain’s voice was still flat and dead.

“What do you need my help for exactly? Brian only appears when summoned, or at least that’s what all the spells say.”

“Well,” Jae spoke up nervously, scratching the back of his neck. “I think I did summon him. But it was an accident.”

“An accidental summoning?” Sungjin’s voice was even, no derision or incredulity. He poured four cups of tea. “How did that happen?”

“Uh, I think… I mean, Brian said he was but I don’t know… I think my best friend is a fae too?” Jae’s voice trailed off, the longer he spoke the more ridiculous all of this felt.

“That sounds like a lot of trouble,” Dowoon commented, taking his tea and sitting on the couch to spectate.

“Indeed,” Sungjin agreed, giving Brian his tea with a smile. “What’s your version of events?” He asked the fae.

“I was called, I answered. I found a strange human trying to run away from me like I was an axe murderer, until he worked out it was his fault I was there. Now we’re waiting for his one true love to appear. I’ll do my thing and go back to interment.” Brian spoke in a long flat tone, like a man tired of his life. Sungjin nodded along, eyes turning to Jae for confirmation.

“Yeah, that’s what happened. Except I don’t have a one true love. So we were wondering what’s going to happen after three days passes.”

Sungjin turned back to Brian. The fae returned a deadpan expression.

“Well, I haven’t read the stories in a long time but Brian is supposed to help you. If he fails, he returns to interment with an extension to his sentence.” Sungjin spoke slowly, giving the feeling of his words tiptoeing out of his mouth.

“Sentence?” Jae asked, eyes locked to Brian. The fae’s eyes fell to the floor, the shimmer seeming to move viscously with an aura of sadness. When it was clear he wouldn’t answer, Sungjin spoke again.

“The legend says Brian was a prince, he spurned a rival fae and was tricked into 100 years of servitude for humans. He’s summoned and forced to help them find love. When he fails another 100 years is added to his sentence,” Sungjin’s voice was still tiptoeing over the fae’s obvious dejection.

“100 years?” Jae’s eyes flicked to Sungjin to make sure he had heard properly before moving back to Brian. His shoulders were slumped and he stared at the floor. “How old are you?” He breathed. Brian ignored him.

“So I imagine if you don’t have a one true love then Brian will go back to his interment with an extra 100 years,” Sungjin finished, sipping his tea and sighing.

“But…” Jae struggled, his brain was trying to catch up with his mouth when he spoke. “But that’s not fair. It’s not his fault I don’t have a one true love! Can’t I like, complain to them that he shouldn’t be punished just because I summoned him by accident?”

Sungjin smiled with amusement, he glanced at Brian before speaking.

“I don’t think they particularly care. In their eyes Brian is being punished and this will be justice.”

“That’s… not fair,” Jae’s voice shrank as Brian finally looked up from the floor. His shimmering eyes pinned the human, stopping his words instantly.

“Well, if it’s all settled. Let’s just go,” Brian launched himself off the table, moving for the door quickly. Jae pursed his lips reluctantly. Sungjin’s face seemed to be offering Jae one more piece of information, but he couldn’t seem to decipher it in time. With slow movements he resettled his bag on his shoulders and turned to follow Brian back out of the apartment.

“Come back anytime,” Sungjin called after them. Jae wasn’t sure he would ever have a particular need to, but he shot a smile over his shoulder anyway.

Brian was eerily quiet on the walk to the bus. It was properly dark now and the moon was yet to rise. The fae’s eyes seemed to be the same deep black of the sky, all hint of shine vanished. Jae wondered what he could do or say that would help the fae. The only thing he could really think of was trying his hardest to find an OTL in the next two days.

“I’m sorry,” Jae said softly as they sat together on the bus, the city sliding around them in the dark. Jae could see his own face reflected in the window as he looked across at Brian, his eyes had slight bags from his late night, and his hair was a little crazy, but in his own eyes he could see determination. “I’ll find someone to love tomorrow. We can blow off class and see if we can find that customer Wonpil was talking about when he started all this.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Brian sighed, he leant back into the uncomfortable bus seat and looked at Jae from the corner of his eye.

“I want to,” Jae replied quickly, “I want to help.”

“Th… thanks,” Brian mumbled, turning to peer out the window instead.

Jae had been intending to go to the library after work, but instead they just trudged home.

“Is that why you’re so angry all the time?” Jae asked, unable to focus on his schoolwork. Brian was casually leafing through a textbook nearby. He looked up from the pages with a blank expression. “The punishment? Is that why you’re so…” Jae searched for the least offensive word, “Unapproachable?”

Brian gave a smirk and stuck a fluro pink sticky note to the page before speaking.

“Yeah, I guess,” He shrugged, Jae could see he was trying to play it down.

“What did you do?” The silence was so long that Jae went back to work, forgetting that he had asked in the first place. When Brian’s reply came Jae found himself frozen in place, staring at the book and listening closely.

“It was more what I didn’t do,” Brian sighed, there was the crunchy noise of a page turning. “I didn’t marry the princess arranged for me. I refused her love and in retaliation her family cursed me. There wasn’t anything I could do about it. I knew when I refused her that something like that would happen. But,” another page of the textbook turned, “I think they overreacted just a little.”

Jae was inclined to agree, he gave a small subconscious nod. After a beat he spoke again.

“When did all that happen?”

“Somewhere in the 2nd century,” Brian’s voice was mild, he seemed preoccupied with the textbook once more. Jae spluttered.

“Excuse me? No, I’m sorry, the 2nd century? You’re telling me you’re over 1500 years old?”

“Your math is terrible,” Brian finally looked up at Jae, a real smile on his face. Jae smiled in reply without noticing he was. “I’m closer to 2000 these days.”

Jae squeaked, eyes raking over Brian closely. He looked like a 20-something-year-old, just like Jae.

“You look good for your age,” Jae commented weakly. Brain laughed, a wonderfully rich sound. Jae felt as though the laughter wrapped all around him, like a physical thing that made the lights glow a little warmer and his skin prickle slightly.

“Thanks,” Brian shook his head and marked the page with another pink sticky note. He passed the book to Jae with an insistent look. “Here, I marked the pages that matter for your assignment.”

“What?” Jae took the book and scanned the marked page. It was all completely relevant and useful information. “Thank you!” Jae looked up, a smile beaming straight at Brian. The fae gave another honest smile.

“What else am I going to do with my time?” Brian shrugged, trying to return to his prickly persona. Jae saw through it though, he wondered how many times in the last few summonings he had heard genuine gratitude. With a lingering look at the fae he returned to writing notes and studying the textbook Brian had given him.

Around midnight they called it quits, Brian was already dozing off as he leant against the bookcase. Jae stacked his books away and went to the bathroom. When he returned he shook Brian’s shoulder. As the fae’s eyes shuttered open Jae was greeted with the shimmer in them once more, it was like flecks of gold in deep water. He followed each little sparkle as it moved here and there in Brian’s deep eyes. It was hypnotising, calming; Jae felt his body relax completely and a goofy smile spread across his face.

Brian blinked and looked away.

Jae started, his exhaustion rushing back into his limbs suddenly.

“Uh, bed time,” Jae said dumbly, he couldn’t seem to stop thinking of Brian’s eyes.

“Can I have a pillow this time?” Brian asked, back to his usual snarkiness.

“Why don’t you sleep on the bed this time? It’s a double anyway,” Jae offered, moving over to the other side of the room. Brian didn’t reply. Jae changed into his pyjamas and turned to find Brian was still in the same spot, eyes deep and unreadable. “Brian?” Jae prompted, wanting an answer.

“Are you sure?”

“Well, yeah. I mean I can’t make you sleep on the floor after I got you into this mess, can I?”

“Uh,” Brian stood slowly, “Thanks then.”

Jae climbed into the bed and sighed, after a moment he felt Brian lay down beside him.

“Night then,” Jae mumbled, already beginning to drift off. Brian didn’t reply. He was too busy with his own thoughts.

It was bright when Jae woke the following morning. With no coherent thoughts he simply rolled over and stuffed his face into the nearest thing that would block the light out. It was made of soft cloth and warmth. It smelt of a forest after rain, earthy and calm. Jae snuggled himself a little deeper and drifted off to sleep once more.

Brain awoke to Jae snuggling his face into his chest. He was frozen in place as the human nuzzled against his body, letting out a cute little mew and a sigh as he fell back to sleep. Brian wondered if the erratic hammering of his heart would be enough to wake Jae or if he would have to do it himself. He raised a hand to prod Jae off him. His hesitation was definitely just indecision about where the best place was to both wake and annoy the human. He was certainly not enjoying the feeling of contact with another person. Especially this ditzy blond. Even if he looked so laughably cute with his hair all mussed from sleeping.

The hand was stuck in mid-air, seemingly unable to descend on Jae and wake him. Brian was saved by the alarm trilling behind him insistently. Jae gave a long groan of frustration and rolled back from Brian just slightly. His eyes opened reluctantly and he found Brian glaring down at him. The glitters were back and Jae smiled despite the fae’s thunderous look.

“Sometimes,” Jae’s voice was croaky from sleep and soft, “your eyes have glitter in them. Sparkly.” He gave a long yawning sigh.

Brian couldn’t seem to move or think. He was still posed with one hand reaching out to prod Jae away, but he was stock still. Jae stretched and sat up. He reached over Brian comfortably and turned the alarm off. Silence descended on the room and Brian seemed to come back to himself. The arm lowered to lie against his own chest. Jae flopped back onto the mattress with another sigh.

“Man, I’m so tired.” He clicked away on his phone, checking his SNS as he slowly woke. Brian watched his profile as the eyes flickered over the phone screen. He wondered what had just happened.

“Alright, so today we’ll head to work and hang out. The guy is a regular, he usually comes in around 11 for a coffee and food. I think he works in a building nearby.” Jae paused to yawn. “We’ll just take my assignment stuff and work on it there. I can kill two birds with one stone.”

He sat up and stretched again. Brain watched him, still lying in the same position. Without waiting or warning, Jae simply clambered over Brian’s body to get out of the bed.

“I’m going to shower, sleep as long as you want I guess,” Jae called with a smile before disappearing out of the room.

Brian rolled onto his back and stared at the blue sky in the window.

Jae and Brian took a table by the window, Jae facing the interior of the cafe while Brian sat across from him staring out the window. The fae was dressed in Jae’s clothes again but had left the hat and sunglasses at home. Books and papers were spread across the table, Jae’s laptop open before him as his fingers danced away on the keys. After a little while their breakfast and coffees arrived and everything was shuffled to make room.

Jae looked up from his work to find Brian’s eyes wide and a genuine smile on his face as he peered down at the food. A little skipping rhythm skittered through Jae’s chest as he watched the fae begin to eat. It was coupled with a small voice wondering just how often the summoners bothered to feed the fae.

“You have to eat it all,” Jae teased, sipping his coffee and continuing to type. “You’re costing me a fortune to keep.”

“Oh, I’m so terribly sorry,” Brain’s voice was catty but the effect was ruined by all the food in his mouth as he spoke. Jae laughed at him, eyes crinkling shut with happiness. Brian gave a huff of laughter as well and continued to eat.

They worked in silence for a long time, Jae’s fingers only pausing as he tried to find a word or phrase to use in his presentation. Around the two hour mark Jae pushed the laptop away and stretched. His brain was fried from the constant work and lack of sleep. His eyes fell on Brian naturally; he was so gorgeous. It made sense to Jae that Brian kept a glamour on to stop humans falling for him, he wondered how many more centuries he’d accrued from being that gorgeous.

“How do you know Wonpil?” Jae asked, turning his head this way and that to stretch his neck. Brian made a noise of irritation in reply.

“He and I were friends before I was punished,” Brain muttered, taking Jae’s laptop and reopening it before him. Jae wondered what the fae was doing but wanted to hear the story of Wonpil, so he didn’t say anything. “He is the reason I’m in this mess.”

“I am really sorry,” Jae replied, thinking Brian meant being here with Jae and his impossible task as “this mess”. “I shouldn’t have read those words aloud.”

“No,” Brian shook his head, eyes intent on the laptop screen. “Not that. This whole punishment is his fault.”

“What?” Jae’s eyes were wide with shock. One day, maybe, he would get used to the fact that Brian was almost 2000 years old, but Wonpil too? Daft Wonpil that occasionally almost walked into traffic? Uh uh, Jae couldn’t imagine it.

“Mm,” Brian mumbled, tapping at the keys for a moment before glancing at Jae. “He convinced me to refuse the marriage proposal. He also suggested my punishment be 100 years of using my magic to help others fall in love. I thought we were friends.” Brian gave a heavy sigh and fell silent. Jae pouted as he thought about the betrayal. He couldn’t imagine Wonpil doing that. Even with the fact that he had tricked Jae into thinking he was human and then into summoning Brian, Jae couldn’t imagine Wonpil doing something that hurtful on purpose. He opened his mouth to express that when the doorbell jangled and Jae caught sight of his customer-crush.

Brian’s head turned as though Jae had just shouted “There he is!”, his cat-like eyes sized up the crush quickly.

He was tall, without the lankiness that Jae had. His business pants were stretched tight across well-built thighs and his shirt strained a little over his chest and shoulders. Brian smirked at the choice of a lavender shirt with a purple tie. The man’s hair was swished back fashionably with gel and he had a little designer-stubble peppering his jaw. Something about him instantly irritated Brian. Perhaps it was the fact that his clothes looked intentionally half a size too small. Or it could have been the aura of arrogance and confidence that oozed from him. It definitely wasn’t the way that Jae was ogling him.

Brian’s lip curled as he thought of helping Jae catch this crush, it was actually the last thing he felt like doing. Jae was speaking to him again and Brian realised he should be listening for instructions.

“So, uh, that’s the guy,” Jae mumbled, staring down at the table nervously.

“Clearly,” Brian could hear the snarky tone, but couldn’t help it.

“Uh, yeah,” Jae’s eyes flickered to the man before darting back to the table like a frightened bunny.

“So, what should I do?” Brian asked, he couldn’t stop the nasty tone of voice, as much as he wanted to.

“I don’t know, isn’t this your, like job?” Jae looked across the table with panic.

“Ok, ok. I’ll help. He wont be able to see me or hear me, ok?” Brian stood, rolling his eyes in exasperation. After a moment of concentration he went sort of translucent in Jae’s vision. Jae stared, forgetting all about what they were actually doing as he watched Brian work some real magic. He almost fell out of his chair in fright when a voice spoke beside him.

“Hey there!” His crush said, standing by his table easily, “Working hard today?” He nodded to the books and papers spread around. Jae held his heart and floundered for words. “Sorry,” the guy continued, “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Oh, uh, yes, no,” Jae thought he heard Brian laugh at him and straightened in his chair a little. “I was lost in thought. I’ve got a huge assignment due this week.” There we go, Jae found his brain and put it into gear properly.

“Ask him to sit down,” Brian mumbled, leaning against the window behind Jae. Jae wanted to turn and see if the sunlight would stream straight through the fae. He resisted.

“Did you want-” Jae spoke at the same time as the man.

“Can I sit?”

They laughed a little awkwardly and Jae nodded.

“Sure, I need a break anyway,” He waved a hand to the seat Brian had been sitting in all morning. The guy took it with a smile. Jae smiled too, it was a little strained but he couldn’t seem to work out why.

“I’m Alistair.”

“Jae. Nice to meet you.”

“You too.” Alistair gave another megawatt smile. “I did actually know your name. I just didn’t want to be all creepy about it.”

Jae gave a polite laugh and nodded, behind him he heard Brian scoff.

“So, what do you do for work?” Jae asked, trying to find a safe topic to begin with. Alistair launched into a description of his job as a photocopier salesman. Jae tried his best to listen but couldn’t seem to forget the fact that Brian was standing right behind him. When Alistair was interrupted by a waitress bringing his coffee Brian leant down to whisper in Jae’s ear.

“Ask him if his shirt shrank in the wash or if he paid for it like that,” His breath actually tickled Jae’s ear and he had to put all his will power into not shivering violently. Jae pressed his lips together and swung a hand backwards to hit Brian on the leg. The fae let out a chuckle.

By the end of their hour long conversation, Jae was conflicted. He had promised Brian to try and fall in love with his crush, he didn’t want to earn the fae another century of imprisonment. But Alistair was the most boring person he had ever met in his life.

He smiled and waved awkwardly as Alistair pushed out the door and onto the street. When he turned back, Brian was fully visible once more and sitting across from him. He laughed as Jae’s smile turned strained and his eyes pleaded with the fae.

“Oh my God,” Jae groaned through his terrifying smile.

“So? Are you head over heels yet?” Brain teased, eyes dancing with barely contained satisfaction.

“Brian, I know I said I’d try and help but,” Jae’s face was mortified, “Oh my God, he’s so boring.”

“Really? You’re not into going to the gym and selling photocopiers?” Brian teased a little more, laughing as Jae put his head on the table and gave a long groan.

“Aren’t you supposed to help?” He asked as the fae leant back comfortably.

“Hey, I help them fall in love with you, not the other way around,” Brian held up his hands in surrender.

“I’m sorry, Brian,” Jae sighed, pulling his head back from the table and giving Brian a sad look. Brian’s laughter petered out and he waved a hand at Jae.

“Nah, don’t worry about it. It is what it is,” He sighed heavily. The glee he had felt drained out of him as he thought of another 100 years in this slavery.

“Did you want to go anywhere? Do anything? It’s the least I can do,` seeing as…” Jae faded away sadly.

“No, it’s fine,” Brian shook his head and pushed Jae’s laptop back over to him. “You should keep working on this at least.”

Jae took the computer and nodded, a heavy weight in his heart. He reread his work from that morning, making it halfway through before realising it had been edited already. He looked over at Brian.

“Did you proof-read this?” He asked, eyebrows hiding in his hair again.

“Well, yeah,” Brian shrugged.

“Thank you,” Jae gave him a wide smile. “You’ve paid off the breakfast I bought.”

Brian scoffed and rolled his eyes. He looked away from Jae, trying to figure out why for the first time in 2000 years his heart was acting up.

Jae and Brian were stowing away all of the books and laptop when Jae’s phone rang. It was an unknown number and he answered it with the hope that Wonpil had reemerged. It was Sungjin instead.

“Hi, Jae? It’s Sungjin, we met last night.”

“Yes?” Jae shot Brian a questioning look, the fae shrugged noncommittally.

“I dug out the old legend of Brian. I was wondering if you wanted to come and have a look at it.” Sungjin’s voice implied that if Jae didn’t come he would regret it.

“Oh, uh,” Jae hesitated, he didn’t really think there was much more to be said on the matter. Something in the way Sungjin spoke gave him pause.

“I think it would be a good idea,” Sungjin said quietly.

“Ok, we’ll come now.” Jae nodded, not looking at Brian’s reaction.

“Great. See you soon.” The line disconnected.

“We’re going to head over to Sungjin’s magic shop.” Jae told Brian cautiously.

“Whatever,” Brain shrugged, turning away from Jae.

Ash and Yew Ecclectica was full of warm wood and glass; crystals and dream-catchers hung from the ceiling in no particular pattern. There were shelves of card decks, new-age books and an entire wall dedicated to bagged herbs. It smelt oddly familiar to Jae, an incense that was so common he knew it but had no idea what it actually was. The window display was still crystals and wands, but beside it was another glass cabinet of crystals. The less expensive ones were laid out on a table in the centre of the shop in baskets.

Jae had been expecting Enya to be playing but instead it was an indie rock band. Sungjin was standing behind the counter, labelling items and singing along. He smiled at the pair as they came in. Brian immediately gravitated to the crystals in the cabinets, staring intently at each one. Jae approached the counter.

“Hey Jae,” Sungjin smiled shrewdly, his eyes flickering to Brian for a moment. “I found this for you. I think it’s the truest version of the legend. But you could always ask Brian what he thinks.” Sungjin reached beneath the wooden counter and produced an old hardback book. The cover-art was a watercolour painting of a pointy-eared little man hiding in the hollow of a tree, a look of pure mischief on his face. Jae pursed his lips sceptically but took the book. He opened it to the marked page to find another watercolour. This one was a man with cat-eyes and violet hair. Jae felt himself smile, it actually looked like a cartoon of Brian.

The story on the opposite page was long and meandering, written in simple language for children. Sungjin pointed to the second last paragraph and Jae skipped ahead to read it.

Brian is kept in limbo when he isn’t helping humans fall in love. This is the meanest part of the punishment of all. Humans only call on him to help them capture their love, he can never find one for himself when his job is to help others.

Jae nibbled his lip as he thought about that. He glanced at Sungjin to find the shopkeeper was ignoring him, labelling his products and humming away. He set the book down on the counter and turned to speak to Brian.

The fae was gazing at a necklace in the cabinet, his face was open and wanting as he stared. Jae smiled to himself and crossed to stand by Brian. If he couldn’t help him, the least he could do was buy him the necklace. It was a weirdly clear crystal with flecks and specks of rusty red through it. Jae thought it looked a little morbid, like dried blood in glass, but Brian’s eyes were shimmering with glitter again so Jae caved easily.

“Can we have this one?” He called to Sungjin. The shopkeeper came over with a jangle of keys.

“Ah ha, Harlequin quartz,” He grinned knowingly and opened the cabinet. “Go on,” He invited Brian to take it himself.

As the fae touched the stone it gave a little flare of light and Jae thought he saw a snap of light pop over Brain’s far shoulder.

“How much is that one?” Jae asked, tearing his eyes from Brain’s radiance.

“On the house,” Sungjin shrugged, “It’s bad luck to charge fae for what they already own.”

Brian smiled at Sungjin and slipped the necklace on. The stone fell just below the neck of his shirt, only the silver chain was visible.

“Thanks,” Jae was completely distracted by Brian.

“Welcome,” Sungjin’s eyes moved from one to the other before he turned and went back to the counter.

Brian seemed to remember Jae was there and looked up into his eyes. The shifting glimmers were brighter than ever and Jae couldn’t help but smile as they stared at each other. He wasn’t sure how long they stayed that way but Jae definitely jumped as a new customer called a greeting to Sungjin. The pair waved to the owner and scuttled back into the street.

They had walked a few blocks in the warm sunlight when Jae finally spoke.

“Sometimes your eyes glitter,” He commented, face turned up to absorb the sunlight like a flower. “Is that normal?”

“I’m a fae,” Brian replied, his voice dry but devoid of the nastiness he had started with. “We do like things that glitter.”

“There was a picture of you in that book too. Does that mean the story is true?”

“What story?” Brian was looking down at his Harlequin quartz again, turning it this way and that. Making it shine and prism with his magic as they walked.

“That you can never fall in love?” The words fell out of Jae’s mouth so easily, perhaps it was the warmth of the sun making him so dozy and happy.

“Ah,” Brian gave a huff but stayed silent.

“Sorry,” Jae turned to glance at Brian. “Do you think it’s true though?”

“It’s not high on my priorities really,” Brian’s voice was flat and he dropped the stone back under his shirt.

“Oh.” For some reason that hurt more than Jae was expecting.

“1800 years of captivity leaves you feeling pretty hopeless,” Brian added in a voice so quiet Jae thought he hadn’t really spoken at all.

“Call me a hopeless romantic but,” Jae smiled at Brian as they strolled down a hill towards the riverside. “You’re never too old to fall in love.”

Brian’s face broke into a reluctant smile.

“Did you just call me old?”

“2000 years and you think you aren’t classified as old yet?” Jae teased, “You’re technically ancient, Brian. And what kind of a name for a fairy is Brian?” He added, grinning like a Cheshire.

“I’m not a fairy! I’m not old! And shut up, it was stylish when I was a free fae!” Brian cried making Jae cackle with laughter.

“So what do you want to do? We have one more day of freedom for you. What do you want to do with it?”

“We should really finish your assignment,” Brain replied. “I’m already doomed to extra time. You have a chance to get the project done and pass.”

Jae strolled along beside Brian, considering his words. It was true, he should finish the assignment but all he wanted to do was spend time with the fae. He wanted to hear about what the last 2000 years had been like, he wanted to know what Brian’s favourite food was, he wanted to see Brian smile so wide his cheekbones popped out of his face and his eyes glittered with flecks of gold.

With Brian lording over him Jae got almost all of his assignment done. Crawling into bed again at around midnight he curled up to sleep facing the window. Only to find sleep wouldn’t come. As exhausted as he had been only moments ago, it seemed to fade now he was actually ready to sleep. Instead he stared out the window. You couldn’t see the stars, the city lights drowned them out too much, but the moon hung just at the lip of his window frame, misty clouds scudding over it every now and then. Jae found his mind wandering to the fae sleeping peacefully behind him.

The customer, Alister, Jae mentally corrected, had been a bust. He was nice enough to look at, but that was all for Jae. The rest of the time in the cafe had been so much more enjoyable. It wasn’t like they had done that much, said that much to one another, but Jae felt even sitting in silence with Brian was so much more comfortable than anything else. He gave a light sigh and rolled onto his back, a cloud shifted out of the moon’s path. He may have developed a little crush of the fae, as grumpy and unapproachable as he was.

It was certainly problematic, they had approximately 24 hours left with each other and then Jae would probably never see him again. Ever. For eternity. He covered his eyes with a hand and tried to stifle another sigh. It would be painful to know that Brian was out there, somewhere, and Jae wouldn’t even see him if he walked by. It was depressing that Brian would go on helping humans fall in love and be left loveless himself.

At least he had the gemstone necklace, something to remember Jae by. With a swirl of hope and depression in his stomach, Jae eventually slipped into a light sleep.

Jae passed Brian his coffee and nodded down the crowded street. Brian followed, still confused about what they were doing and where they were going. Jae had refused to tell him anything as they left the house that morning. He carried the laptop and notebook but other than that, nothing. He wore a cap on his fluffy blond hair for once too, which might mean they were staying outside. Aside from that, Brian could glean nothing about where they were going or what they were doing.

They had stopped for coffee in the heart of the city, scowling business people passing endlessly and tourists meandering into their path. Inoffensive architecture loomed over them and weird street sculptures stood in the centre of the chic street of shops. Brian watched the crowds and felt a weird sense of deja-vu; it was true the technology had progressed and the fashion seemed to have shrunk in size, but essentially he felt the same as the last time he had stood here, almost 200 years earlier. As the thought wandered through his brain the Harlequin quartz around his neck gave him a little tickle. He gave a sighing smile. Ok, not exactly the same.

“Come on,” Jae called, hiking his backpack and leading Brian up the slight hill. Brian followed silently, he actually wanted to ask what they were doing and where they were going, but he couldn’t bring himself to show that he was interested. Almost 1000 years ago he had decided to give up on getting too invested in the humans he helped. He had given up on pretty much everything. They moved through the city, following the mall for some time before they came to the river that wound through the city centre. Brian expected Jae to cross the footbridge over to the fashionable waterfront cafes and parks on the other side. Instead, he turned away from the bridge and descended a set of stairs that had seen better days. The railing was half-hanging off the edge, the concrete steps were crumbling and broken in places. Someone had laid yellow lines of spray paint over the broken edges but that seemed to be it. The sunshine faded into a light gloom as they reached the crude path below. It was alongside the river, rocks cemented into the edge of the path were the only barrier separating them from the muddy water.

“Did you bring me down here to murder me?” Brian asked as he tried to identify the smell. Rivers never smelt normal in cities.

“Ah, you’re onto me. I better not then,” Jae joked back, he waved a hand and continued walking. “Come on, it’s not too much further.”

They moved down the path, the endless noise of cars rushing overhead and a slight slap of water against the rocks as ferries and catamarans passed on the river. The hulking wall beside them, where the city sat all but ignoring the river, was covered in artworks. They began small at first, silly tags and stickers. Posters for underground bands and anti-government propaganda. Slowly, the chaos began to morph into large murals; the artist had taken the time to use the posters, stickers and tags and make them into something else within his painting. Brian smiled as he walked, eyes glued to the wall.

“Pretty cool, huh?” Jae called back, trying to get over the traffic noise above.

“Yeah,” Brain smiled broadly, eyes still on the art as they continued walking.

Slowly the light began to filter down more and more, and Brian realised they were standing on level ground again. The wall receded and opened out into a weird couldersac. There was a line of bicycles all chained to a bikestand, beyond that were two huge shrubs that flanked a path. Jae headed straight for it and Brian tagged along, feeling a glowing excitement as he realised where they might be headed.

As they passed the shrubs a sign could be seen, shiny silver letters across a piece of sandstone: City Gardens. Brian could feel himself glowing slightly but he couldn’t stop it, the rich sensation of nature all around him was divine. Jae led them further and further in, past the duck ponds and artwork gardens and over to the sprawling lawns. He took a place beneath a simply giant tree and drew his laptop out of his backpack. He smiled up at Brian sweetly.

“I thought we could work here today,” Jae smiled, tilting his head a little as he waited for Brain to sit. Brian beamed back and sprawled out on the grass, rolling over to face the sky he closed his eyes and seemed to fall asleep instantly. Jae thought he saw a small glow coming from the fae but the sunlight in the park was too bright to tell properly. He set his mind to the task of writing up the last bits of his presentation. It was slow going with a gorgeous fae snoozing next to him, practically oozing satisfaction and happiness.

It was around the time Jae was painstakingly entering his references that he felt his neck prickle. He could swear he was being watched from somewhere. He looked up and cast around. There, hiding just behind a dense bush in a garden was someone. Jae lay his laptop aside and stared harder, they looked familiar. As he crammed the computer into his bag again, he realised.

Wonpil!

He looked up to find the garden empty. He woke Brian and dragged him to his feet. Jae was sure it had been the other fae. They could get some answers. Brain protested as Jae tugged him over to the garden bed. A small path was trodden between tropical ferns and jungle undergrowth. It was thick and crowded by hanging leaves and draping branches. Jae pushed into the foliage, still holding Brian’s hand tightly. There! The flicker of a person pushing through that fern ahead of him! It had to be Wonpil! He gripped Brain’s hand tighter and pushed past the hanging leaves. The air seemed to thicken for a moment, seemed to grow more viscous around them as Jae pushed forward. Then the resistance was gone and he passed out the other side of the plants.

They were greeted with a panorama; wide green hills, rolling and huddling off into the distance. Beyond them were snowcapped mountains and a sky that was so blue it made his eyes ache to look at. Jae stumbled to a stop, completely confused. They were certainly not in the city anymore. He turned to Brian, still holding his hand in his own.

Jae’s eyes went round as he stared at Brian.

Long, filmy wings hung behind the fae, the edges just peeking out from behind his legs and throwing prisms of sunlight around. Dragonfly wings but so much prettier. His mouth dropped open and he was about to ask what was going on when Brian’s soft purple hair began to stir as if in a breeze. Small flower buds peeked out from the locks and sprang open all along the crown of Brian’s head. Vivid purple morning glory settled into place as a flower crown, a few curling sprigs of ivy winding around them. His eyes were now impossibly deep and the flakes of gold floated here and there in the liquid blackness. His skin was certainly throwing off a glow, as well as the gemstone necklace.

Jae thrust two hands into his hair and almost groaned. He was unbelievably, inhumanly beautiful. He was so beautiful it hurt to look at him. The only thing cutting through Jae’s pain at Brian’s beauty was wondering where they were and what was happening. He tried to ask again when Brian smiled. It was like watching the sun appear from behind a cloud, his eyes sparkled and his face split with joy. Even when Jae noticed his teeth were not square and perfect, but sharp and pointed like a predators, the beauty wasn’t diminished.

“We’re in the Realm of the Fae,” Brain said, his voice warm and joyful.

“You have wings,” Jae said dumbly, still holding his own head.

The wings flickered and spread wide giving the crackle of a bug’s wings, they glittered with the sunlight. With a rush of air the wings beat and Brain rose a few inches from the lush grass.

“You can fly,” Jae’s voice was weak and he was rapidly feeling the need to sit down and place his head between his knees.

“Well, they aren’t just for show,” Brian replied archly, eyes bright with fun. He dropped back onto the grass with a thud, the wings folded back behind him easily.

Jae stayed silent for a long moment, eyes on Brian as his brain tried to catch up.

“Can- can I touch them?” Jae asked, knowing Brian was probably about to snap at him for being impossibly human.

Instead the fae shrugged, wings spreading out with a snap once more.

Jae moved, finally releasing his head from his hands. The hand hesitateded over a wing. He gave the hardened edge a light touch.

“Ahh!” Brian cried, making Jae jump and squeak in alarm. The fae crumpled a little with his laughter as Jae glared at him fiercely. “Sorry,” Brian gasped, “They aren’t fragile. You can touch them.” Jae scowled and laid a hand on Brian’s wing properly. It was smooth beneath his fingers but also tough, like rubber stretched over bone. Each section was a polygon and threw small rainbows onto Jae’s hand as it moved past them. He smiled, marvelling at the impossible display.

He moved to look at Brian from the back. Beneath the open edges of his singlet strong joints and muscles morphed seamlessly into his bug-like wings. Jae ran a hand down the wing to where it burrowed beneath a joint of skin. He traced the edge with a light finger. The wings shivered and Jae watched with fascination as Brian folded them back into place behind him; skin and muscle shifting in a strange way before settling into place. Jae touched the place between the joints, Brain gave a small contented sigh.

“Sorry,” Jae stepped back, “I didn’t mean to just feel you up.”

Brain laughed in reply, turning to face Jae.

“No, no,” Brain shook his head, still smiling in that achingly beautiful way, “I just haven’t had someone do that for a long time. I haven’t had wings for a long time.”

“Don’t you like, live here though?” Jae asked, now entranced by the flowers wreathing the purple hair. He reached up to touch one of the trumpets.

Brian jumped back and gave a feral snarl, his pointed teeth fully bared at Jae. Jae shrank away, pulling his hand in as though Brian had bitten him.

“Sorry!” Jae yelled, stumbling slightly.

“Sorry!” Brain replied, holding his hands up in a calming gesture and hiding his teeth behind his lips again.

“You should never touch a prince’s crown,” Came a new voice, mischievous and lilting. The pair turned to find Wonpil watching them from the tall grass, his dark haired head just peeking over the stalks.

“You!” The pair yelled, pointing at Wonpil as he sprung to his feet. Jae’s irritation screeched to a halt as he took in Wonpil’s strange appearance. His wings were long and moth-like, a moonlight sheen to them. His skin seemed to have mist rising off it, like a lake at predawn. Jae came a little closer, Wonpil’s eyes were swirling galaxies of stars.

“You!” Brian cried again; he sprung across the meadow, arms outstretched to take Wonpil around the neck. The fae took flight hastily, letting Brian skid across the grass beneath him.

“Predictable,” Wonpil smiled widely and set down on the grass beside Jae. Jae immediately began inspecting the soft looking wings. “If you’re finished acting like an animal, I have something important to say. It’s why I brought you here.”

“Something else to ruin my life with?” Brain snapped, crouching in a predatory stance again.

Without warning there were three Wonpil’s standing in a row, smiling at Brian in a satisfied way. Brian’s scowl deepened but he didn’t pounce.

The three Wonpil’s turned to Jae, star-filled eyes boring into his own human ones.

“In every magic there is a loophole,” Wonpil said, his voice throbbing like a bell. “You have to find the loophole.”

Jae wanted to ask questions, he had a thousand racing through his mind but his jaw wouldn’t unclench. Wonpil grabbed both his hands and his mind was dominated by the swirling galaxies of Wonpil’s eyes.

“Find the loophole.” The voice pressed in on him from all directions and Jae felt a strange rushing in his head.

He woke on the grass in the park, his backpack beneath his head and Brian sitting beside him frowning deeply. Jae cast around for Wonpil only to find they were sitting in the city gardens, the sun edging close to the horizon.

“Was-” Jae began, looking over at Brian. The sun was catching in his purple hair, sliding over his beautiful cheekbones and giving a slight glow to his black eyes.

“Yeah, it was real,” Brain said quietly, his face was soft with sadness. “He sent us back here right after he spoke to you.”

Find the loophole. Jae heard the echo in his ears and bit his top lip in thought. What loophole?

“What do you think the loophole is?” Jae asked Brain, hoping he might have an idea.

“Is that what he said to you?” Brian snorted, rolling his eyes and turning to stare across the lawns. “It’s ridiculous.”

“What is it though?” Jae pressed, his heart ached to hear the answer. He needed to know. He needed to set Brian free. To see him in his fae form again, to let him fly and live free like he should.

“Nothing. There is no loophole,” Brain stood and waited for Jae to get up too.

The human took a long moment, remembering everything about the Realm of the Fae. He wasn’t convinced, Wonpil had imprinted the idea in his mind and it wouldn’t shift. There was a loophole, and he had hours to find it.

Instead of going home they began wandering, Jae led the fae to the edge of the river, a different path to earlier that day. They followed the meandering water all the way out of the city and to the trendy suburbs full of bars and cafes. They didn’t stop to eat or drink though, simply wandering together and chatting. Jae found himself telling Brian about his childhood, his aspirations for the future and his family members. As the sky melted into a purple twilight Brain began to talk just as much. He told Jae random history points from the last 1800 years. They talked about the Realm of the Fae, the royal family Brian belonged to, and the history of changelings.

“You couldn’t live in the Realm of the Fae,” Brian informed Jae as they stopped to sit on a bench by the water. Jae had no idea what suburb they were in, but he didn’t care.

“Why not?”

“Only changelings can. Children stolen at birth and replaced by fae children.”

“There are fae living in the human world?” Jae asked, eyes wide with amazement.

“Mm-hmm,” Brian gave a wry smile, “It’s not common anymore, too much technology. But there are still old bloodlines of half-fae. Some fae still come to the human realms to, uh… breed with the half-fae and restore the bloodlines.”

“Seriously? So I could be half-fae?” Jae wondered, staring at his hands as though they would give him the answer.

“Nope,” Brian smiled and stretched his long legs out. “You’re all human. Plus you know both your parents.”

“Oh. Right.”

There was a comfortable silence. The streetlights winked on overhead and Jae sighed, they should go home soon. He didn’t feel any closer to finding the loophole, despite being more desperate than ever.

“Brain?” Jae wondered as they stood to walk once more. “Why… What was… The flowers in your hair…” Jae couldn’t seem to frame the question properly.

“Uh, sorry about that,” Brian gave a slight laugh, Jae couldn’t help but smile. “It’s my crown. I’m a prince after all.”

Jae nodded, not really understanding.

“To be given the flower from a royal’s crown is a high honour. It’s a sign that the royal is in your debt. It gives you a special, unbreakable connection to that fae. They aren’t to be touched unless offered.”

Their steps were synchronised as they wandered in silence. Finally Jae spoke.

“Have you ever given a flower to anyone?”

“No,” Brian’s voice was so soft that it sounded like just another wave in the riverwater. Jae stared at the lights playing on the surface, a strange longing deep in his heart. Was it for the loophole? Or for a flower offered from a fae prince?

When they had returned home the silence was heavy, a physical thing sitting between them as Jae polished off the end of the assignment and cleaned his room. Brian sat and watched, steeping in a haze of gloom. He did not want to return to his limbo. It was pitch black and cold between the fabrics of the worlds. The thing he hated most was the silence, the complete lack of noise bearing down on his ears like pressure. As Brian was beginning to lose sight of the physical world around him something broke through his depression.

Jae was sitting on the floor strumming a guitar. Brian let a smile wander over his lips as Jae began to sing along quietly to himself. The weight of silence in the room vanished and Brian felt he could breathe again. He scoffed with amusement at the human. How had he known what he was thinking? How had he known what Brian needed the most?

The slightly fluffy blond hair, the bespectacled face, eyes closed with emotion as he sung along to the guitar, Brian wanted to take it all with him when he went. He wanted to remember forever the way Jae looked now, the way Jae looked standing beneath a streetlight by the water. The subtle feeling of Jae’s fingers on the film of his wings, and the strange scent that seemed to linger around the humans clothes and hair. Brian held back a deep sigh and toyed with the Harlequin quartz.

When Jae had run out of songs he set the guitar against the desk and heaved a sigh. With no words they had both just crawled into bed.

“Brian,” Jae’s voice was barely a whisper in the dark as they lay in bed waiting for the hour to tick over and Brian would be gone again.

“Mm?” Brian’s voice was as deep as the darkness. Jae took a shaking breath, trying to steady his heart and sort out exactly what he wanted to say.

“I’m really going to miss you,” Jae mumbled. No, that wasn’t it. That wasn’t what he wanted to say.

“Well, I guess I’ll miss you too.”

Jae could tell it was a lie. Half a lie. Jae tried again.

“Brain?” He could do it, he could say it.

“What?” There was a laugh bubbling through Brian’s voice.

“I think… I love you?”

There was a tinkling noise in the distance, like a wind-chime swaying in a Spring breeze. Jae thought his eyes were playing tricks as a white glow rose from the darkness. He panicked, fearing that it was already time for Brian to go. There were snaps and small sparks, lighting and disappearing almost instantly all over the room. Jae watched as Brian came into view before the room went dark again. The two eyes that captivated Jae so often were glowing, shimmers in their liquid depths.

“Jae,” Brian’s voice was so full of emotion it didn’t even sound like him.

“What’s happening?” Jae asked, reaching out in the darkness to grab Brian’s arm. “Don’t go,” He cried desperately.

“Jae,” Brian tried again, hands coming to cover Jae’s. “I… You… You did it.”

More sparks crackled through the room, in the bright white flashes Jae could see Brian gazing at him. This time the sparks didn’t fade away, more and more snapped and lit the room. Jae was reminded of fireworks. Flowers were growing in Brian’s hair. He leapt out of the bed, tearing the shirt away so his wings could spring free. The sparks were still snapping and cracking all around him, the Harlequin quartz glowing brightly against his neck. With a final bright crackle of light everything stopped.

Jae took a moment to adjust to the sudden darkness. The room was empty. Brain was gone.

His heart shattered and he fell to the mattress with a horrible weight in his body.

A soft glow brought Jae around, there seemed to be moonlight in his room. It was strange moonlight though, moonlight shaped like the wings of a moth. Starry eyes forced themselves into Jae’s view and he moaned sadly.

“Wonpil!” He threw himself at the fae, wrapping his long arms over Wonpil’s neck and clinging to him. Wonpil froze, unaccustomed to such open affection from Jae.

“You did it,” Wonpil smiled, patting Jae’s back lightly. “I knew you could do it.”

“But he’s gone,” Jae cried, unaware that there were tears streaming from his eyes. “He just… left. I said I love you and he left.”

“Yeah, well, he’s always been an idiot with things like that,” Wonpil rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Come on, I’ll take you to him.”

With no time for Jae to protest, Wonpil had brought the almost familiar pressure back onto Jae’s body and they moved through to the Realm of the Fae. They appeared on the same rolling hills as that morning, but now it was night. The sky overhead was impossibly full, stars winked and shone from horizon to horizon. The knee high grass shone in the moonlight, extra bright where Wonpil stood. Jae felt he had lost the ability to see colour, everything was varying shades of pale and black.

Across the meadow movement caught Jae’s eye. Brian was walking towards them, one hand trailing through the grass tops. Jae felt fresh tears spring into his eyes, these ones were full of aching pain at Brian’s fae beauty. He was to die for. The extra light from Wonpil’s wings flickered and with a rush of air he took off from the ground and floated away in the distance, soon becoming just a glow among the stars.

Jae was stuck in place, waiting for Brian to reach him. He was a swirl of emotion, heady and confusing. Brian was still shirtless and had a definite regal air about him. He came to a slow stop in front of Jae, a slight smirk on his face. Jae stared back, dumbfounded.

Brian reached up slowly, hand shifting through his purple hair and plucking a flower. Another bud immediately grew and bloomed in it’s place. The fae twirled the trumpet flower between his fingers, still smirking at Jae. He offered the flower to the human with a flourishing bow.

Jae stared at the flower. Then at Brian’s doubled over form. And back to the flower. He didn’t move. A cool breeze rippled through the grass but all else in the meadow remained still.

“Uh,” Brian mumbled, trying to peek up at Jae. “Are you gonna?” He left the question hanging. Jae’s lips pressed together. “Jae?” Brian prompted again, confusion colouring his tone.

“I don’t want it,” Jae mumbled, putting his hands behind his back like a child.

“Excuse me?” Brian’s head snapped up and he stared at Jae in wonder.

“I don’t want it.” Jae’s voice was firmer now.

“I’m trying to do something nice for you here,” Brian straightened and glared at Jae. “Just take the damn flower.”

“I don’t want the damn flower!” Jae yelled back.

Brian floundered, spluttering with offence and incredulity.

“Now send me back, I…” Jae faltered, his throat beginning to burn with emotion, “I don’t want to be here anymore.” Tears prickled his eyes and he huffed, trying to will the tears back into his eyelids. Brian’s glittery eyes were wide, his mouth slightly slack as he watched Jae fight with his own emotions.

“Jae?” Brian asked, stepping forward slightly.

“Don’t!” Jae stepped away, raising a hand at Brian.

“What? What’s wrong?” Brian was still trying to offer the flower to Jae. Jae made to bat it to the ground but Brian moved faster, grabbing his hand and pressing the flower into his fingers. He clasped his fingers over Jae’s to keep him from dropping it.

The petals tickled against his hand, sending an electric shock up his arm as Brian closed the hand over the flower securely. Jae gave a startled cry, the tears slipping over his lids.

“You just left!” Jae cried, trying to wrestle out of Brian’s grasp weakly.

“I had something to take care of first,” Brian explained rapidly, “That’s why I sent Wonpil to get you. I needed you to come here and,” Brian gave a small laugh and pulled Jae closer, “Will you just listen, you silly human! I needed you to take the flower so I can do this!” The hand that wasn’t holding Jae’s cupped the back of his head and brought their lips together.

If Jae thought the flower gave him a shock, it was nothing compared to the sensation of kissing Brian. The flares of light were back, static lifting his messy hair away from his head and a crackling between their lips. Jae melted into the kiss, free hand coming up to cling to Brian’s neck. There was a slight snap as Brian’s wings spread and he lifted them a few inches from the meadow. Jae clung harder, breaking the kiss to squeak in alarm. Brian gave a soft chuckle, eyes dancing with flakes of gold in the moonlight.

“I offer you this flower, as a symbol of my station, I am forever in your debt and bonded to you for eternity.” Brain mumbled, pressing his forehead to Jae’s as he spoke. Jae felt a wave of delight crash through his stomach. “With this flower you are given haven in the Realm of the Fae and my household.”

Jae let a smile creep over his lips as they continued to hover over the grass. He closed his eyes and huffed.

“Don’t think it’s just that easy,” He grumbled, keeping his eyes shut so he could hold out against Brian’s beauty.

“What more do you want from me?” Brian was chuckling again, the sound wrapped around Jae like a blanket.

“You have to say it,” Jae whispered, eyes opening to stare into Brian’s deeply.

“I love you too,” Brian whispered in reply.

Jae’s lips twisted as he tried to suppress his joy. Brian moved to hold him around the waist, pulling their bodies flush together. The tone of wingbeats changed and they began to rise into the sky properly. Jae flung his other arm around Brian’s neck, still gripping the small purple flower tightly. Jae laughed as he realised they were flying. Brian’s own face was split with a smile, his cheekbones catching the moonlight and his purple hair dancing in the air.

“You know,” Jae started, laughing with his own giddiness, “You could have explained the flower thing a bit better!”

“I did!” Brian protested.

“You did not!” Jae argued back, leaning away slightly to scowl at Brian.

“I’m sure I did,” Brian nuzzled against Jae’s cheek, “You probably forgot, silly human.”

“You forgot! Old man!” Jae teased back, snuggling into Brian despite his antagonistic tone.

They flew in silence for a little while; Jae felt his heart might explode out his mouth if he opened it to speak again. He was convinced Brian could feel it hammering against his bare chest. The stars whirled overhead as Jae floated on his delight. His feet touched down on the ground and Jae cast around, completely disoriented. They were standing at the top of a waterfall, water rushing over the 100 metre drop barely a metre from where they stood on a rock. Brian’s arms didn’t loosen now they were on the ground once more but his wings folded away behind him easily.

“We should go home,” Brian mumbled, resting his forehead against Jae’s once more.

“Isn’t this your home?” Jae replied, fingers wandering along Brian’s bare back and tracing the edges of the wings. Brian hummed with happiness.

“No, your home. You have the presentation tomorrow,” Brian replied, wings flickering a little.

“Oh,” Jae’s hand stopped and his voice lost it’s wonder. “Right.”

“You can’t fail now, we worked so hard on that,” Brain reasoned, twitching slightly to try and coax Jae to resume his patting. It worked and Jae returned to running his finger tips over the wing joints as he thought.

“But, are you coming back home with me?”

“Sure, it doesn’t matter now you have a flower,” Brian nestled into Jae’s neck with a content sigh.

“Well, then I guess we should go back. If the time zones match, I need to go to sleep.”

Brain gave a small laugh and pulled his face from its hiding place. There was a push of the air around them and then they were back in Jae’s bedroom. Brian was a regular human again, still shirtless however. Jae looked around in wonder and then brought his hands to the front. He gazed at the perfect purple flower in his hand. It should have been crumpled and ruined by his tight grip but it looked as though Brian had just removed it from his crown.

“It’ll stay like that,” Brian told him. “Just like you will stay like this.”

“Pardon?” Jae’s head snapped up, eyes wide.

“Mmm, immortality comes with the bond,” Brian shrugged, “With this specific bond anyway.”

Jae gave a long yawn, eyes scrunching closed as his jaw cracked.

“Ok, I can’t deal with that right now,” Jae shook his head a little, with a cheeky grin he spoke again. “Are you an axe murderer?”

“Not the last few centuries,” Brian replied, smiling back with sparkles in his eyes.

“Great, you can sleep with me then,” Jae grabbed his hand and pulled him over to the bed. They snuggled down together, Jae automatically pressing his face into Brian’s chest and sighing. Brian’s heart was galloping, tripping over every other beat as Jae slung an arm over his waist. After a moment the human grabbed Brian’s arm and placed it over his own body in reply. “You’ll get used to it,” Jae mumbled into his chest, “Tomorrow night I’ll show you spooning.”

Brian gave a tsk and closed his eyes, unable to fight the smile on his face. The smile of a free fae. When the clock ticked past the time he was supposed to return to his limbo, Brian was already asleep.

Brian sat in the cafe, arguing with Sungjin over the benefits of wild-grown herbs vs farmed herbs. Jae watched from the counter beside Dowoon.

“He was pretty excited to hear that the fae was staying in town,” Dowoon was saying to Jae between customers. “He tells me that it’s a great resource for information and magic.”

“I still can’t believe you’re a wizard.” Jae sighed, his life was extra strange these days with wizards and a fae boyfriend, but he couldn’t help but miss his best friend. Wonpil had been completely absent since the night he had broken the curse. That had been two weeks ago. Jae found himself sort of longing to see his friend again.

“I really can’t do much with it,” Dowoon shrugged, playing down the amazing things Jae had already witnessed him do. One of them being that Dowoon seemed to be able to stop difficult customers in their tracks, their anger and foul moods just dried right up and they became pleasant when Dowoon fixed his large brown eyes on them. Jae was convinced it was magic, Dowoon reasoned it was just his personality.

Jae sighed wistfully, causing the three others to stare at him in confusion. He waved them away. He honestly just missed Wonpil. The door jangled and he didn’t bother to look up from where he was cleaning. A weird hush had fallen over the cafe though and when Jae realised his head snapped up. In the door frame, a bit of a goofy grin on his face, was Wonpil. Except he wasn’t staring at Jae, or Brian. His eyes were fixed to Dowoon and Dowoon was staring right back.

Jae’s eyes met Brian’s and they pursed their lips in amusement. After a long moment, Jae cleared his throat and waved a little.

“Hello! Best friend here! Waiting to be greeted and apologised to!” He called, rounding the counter to stand in front of Wonpil.

“Hey Jae,” Wonpil tore his eyes from Dowoon finally, “Sorry, I guess. You can stop calling for me now. I’m here” A smile spread over his face and his gaze flicked back to Dowoon briefly.

Jae tried really hard to be angry, he worked to stoke the fire of agitation in his chest. But it was snuffed out easily by Wonpil smiling at him in the easy way he always had.

“Introduce me to the cute wizard,” Wonpil muttered, eyes showing a small sparkle of stars within them. Jae shook his head, eyes rolling with exasperation. Typical fae. Typical Wonpil.

“How about you explain yourself first?” Jae muttered back. “You know they whole, extreme blind date thing you put me through.”

Wonpil laughed, eyes crinkling closed and nose scrunching slightly.

“Oh! I suppose! Can I meet the cute wizard first?” Wonpil cried happily.

“No! No cute boys for you until you explain yourself!” Jae almost yelled back, bringing one hand down into the other with finality. Wonpil let out peals of laughter before holding his hands up in surrender. He moved to sit beside Brian at a table, clasping the other fae around the shoulder affectionately for a moment. Brian gave a small growl.

“Oh, come on, Highness,” Wonpil batted Brian’s purple hair lightly, “Get over it. I fixed it, didn’t I?”

“You caused it,” Brian argued back. Sungjin watched, face somewhere between amused and amazed. Jae moved over to the table, opting for Brian’s lap rather than the free chair. Dowoon checked the clock, 5 minutes until close. With a shrug and a weird tingle in his body he moved to take the last chair and listen to Wonpil.

“That’s true. I suppose,” Wonpil shrugged slightly.

“You suppose?” Brian scoffed, looking up at Jae with incredulity. “You told me not to do it and then suggested my punishment!”

“What really happened?” Sungjin asked unobtrusively. Wonpil smiled at him and then at Dowoon.

“Once upon a time there was a fae prince named Brian, he was arranged to marry a beautiful princess.” Wonpil began with flair. “He’s not really into that. Wasn’t sold on the eternity thing, or the princess thing. So I told him to just refuse.”

“Uh, you badgered me night and day until I agreed to refuse,” Brian interjected.

“Shut up, I’m telling the Myth of Brian,” Wonpil spoke without bothering to look, he seemed to have eyes only for Dowoon.

“Don’t call it that,” Brian grumbled quietly. Wonpil continued with his story.

“So, Brian refuses the princess. She gets mad. Her parents get mad. They want to go to war. War in the Realm of the Fae is such a waste of time. I suggested a little curse instead.”

“Little?” Jae interjected this time, “100 years is little?”

“It is when you live forever,” Wonpil shrugged, “Right Brian?”

“Shut up, it wasn’t 100 years,” Brian snapped back.

“You both need to calm down and let me tell the story,” Wonpil’s voice was full of laughter. Brian gave a loud tsk in reply.

“I wasn’t planning for the clause that they added, the extra punishments for every fail. I didn’t realise they were that angry. Although, I suppose if they were ready to go for war it made sense they were that angry,” Wonpil hummed thoughtfully, as though that realisation had just hit him. Jae shook his head and poked the side of Wonpil’s face to prompt him to continue. “Anyway, when I found that out I started looking. Every piece of fae magic has a loophole,” He told the two wizards.

“It took you this long?” Jae was amazed, not only by the fact that Wonpil had spent the last 1800 years looking but that he had spent the last 1800 years on one project alone without getting distracted.

“You’re just that special,” Wonpil’s voice was smarmy and he grinned at Jae.

Jae pushed his face away with one hand, giving a noise of disgust in response.

“So I fixed it. Eventually.” Wonpil shrugged as though that was all there was to it.

“Yeah, only 1800 years late,” Brian grumbled.

“Are you not happy with the human I chose for you? I combed through literally thousands to find this one!” Wonpil argued, joy in his voice.

“I’m not happy I had to choose one at all!” Brian replied in a rush of irritation. Jae protested, laying a firm whack on Brian’s head. “Of course, I am happy with you though, I love you.” Brian backtracked quickly.

Wonpil let out a long peal of laughter, getting up and turning a small jig in his joy. He extended his hand to Dowoon, a smile full of mischief.

“Would you like to see the Realm of the Fae?” Wonpil asked, eyes full of galaxies.

“We have to clean and close the cafe,” Jae tutted, climbing back out of Brian’s lap. “You can date Dowoon later.”

Jae shooed them all out of the cafe and locked the door. In comfortable silence they cleaned, balanced the till and reset everything for the next day. With their work done the two humans stepped into the darkening street and locked the cafe door. Brian and Wonpil waited on the sidewalk for them. They leant against the bricks side by side, a peaceful air between them. Jae felt a little ball of tension fade, clearly Brian had forgiven his old friend. Seems it was literally impossible to stay mad at the mischievous fae. Both fae turned, smiling expectantly as Jae and Dowoon turned from the door. With a shake of his head Jae hopped down the steps to take Brian’s hand. After a moment Dowoon took Wonpil’s and they vanished from the sidewalk.

“This is really my life now, isn’t it?” Jae commented as they strolled along together. Brian remained silent, swinging Jae’s hand slightly between them. Jae looked up from the cracked pavement to find Brian looking at him with pleading eyes. “Oh, fine.” Jae huffed, a smile spreading across his face. “But we are not flying around all night! I need to sleep at least a little bit!”

With a smile like a sunrise Brian pulled Jae to his chest and they disappeared from the human realm too.

#fanfiction #day6writersnet #day6 fanfic #day6 #day6writersmyth #jaehyungparkian #thenofutureshoe #this doesnt seem to get less terrifying #I'll be hiding #in amazed I got this done #hooray me

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homeiswherethestuckis · 7 years

Text

Red Pen: a soulmate au

For @notedchampagne, I hope this has enough cheese for you ;)

(there’s some formatting issues that I still haven’t figured out so sorry about that but I’m working on it I promise)

You were six years old the first time you talked to your soulmate. Well, no that’s not completely true. It was the first time you had talked to your soulmate using actual words. You’d doodled on your skin a lot when you were younger, both out of curiosity and because you were a small child and you didn’t really care about “looking presentable” one way or the other.

It was always a delight to watch somebody else’s scribblings magically appear on your skin. Some days you would spend hours just drawing all over yourself and wait for a response, which mostly just ended up being swirly lines or x’s crossing out your own work. Clearly whoever it was didn’t appreciate being drawn on as much as you did.

You’d never really thought of your soulmate as another person (it was hard to think about someone who you couldn’t see and never even talked to in your entire life as anything more than a phantom doodler when you were little) until that fateful day in kindergarten when you got bored and decided to practice your letters on your arm instead of pay attention.

The sight of a word on your arm that you didn’t write did make you stop for a second to look at it. This was the first thing your soulmate had ever said to you. Stop. It was written in big gray slashes right under your letter practice. There was enough room for you to probably finish up the rest of the alphabet, there was no way you were letting whoever this was stop you.

This one covered up all the letters you’d written so far. You grit your teeth and decided you were not going to quit it, and whoever it was could suck it up and deal with your sloppy red letters on their skin. You switched arms and started writing with your other hand.

There was more furious scribbling all up and down your arm. Your soulmate just covered their entire arm in gray ink to try and keep you from writing on your own skin anymore. Your soulmate is such a weirdo.

Little did they know, you were also a weirdo.

You looked around the room. The teacher was reading a book to the class and not paying any attention to you. You tried to be as subtle as you could about rolling your pants up.

There’s a tapping on your shoulder. You look over and find your cousin Rose looking at you. Mostly at your leg. She points at it, and tilts her head questioningly. You don’t really have a response for her at the moment, so you just shake your head and hope she understands that you’ll try to explain later.

You hope she stays quiet for now.

You’re out of letters now, so you just start drawing random shapes and doodles to mess with them. Every time you draw something they cross it out or scribble over it with their gray marker. You have to try really hard not to giggle. You’ve never seen someone react to doodles like this and it’s really funny to you.

From out of the corner of your eye, you can see Rose raising her hand.

“Teacher,” she says, interrupting storytime. “Dave is coloring on himself.”

“Dave Strider,” your teacher scolds, slamming the book in her hands closed, “you stop that right now.”

You don’t exactly get what she’s mad about it, but you put your marker down on your desk anyway because you don’t want to get in real trouble. “Sorry.”

You stop drawing on yourself, and after a minute or two your soulmate stops, too.

You don’t think about it again until later on that night after you had to spend an extra twenty minutes in the bath trying to wash all of the red and gray ink off of yourself. You were annoyed about it and complained the whole time.

“You’re mad?” Your brother snorted. “Imagine how your poor soulmate feels. They had to deal with all of this bull too, you know.”

“They did?”

“Yeah, they did.” He nodded. “And you know what else?”

“What?”

He pointed to the faded “KWIT IT” still visible on your arm. “They clearly weren’t having fun with this.”

“Oh.”

“Listen, Dave, you gotta be nice to your soulmate. You only have one of those, you know. I’m not saying you have to stop drawing on your skin or trying to talk to them, because you’re not gonna get anywhere with them if you never talk to them, but if they ask you to stop what you’re doing, then you should listen to them. Especially if they ask you to stop repeatedly.”

You’d nodded. “Okay. I’ll be nice.”

“Good, I’m sure they’ll appreciate that, little dude.”

You’re in bed now, wrapped up in blankets with your skin completely scrubbed clean. You’ve been thinking a lot about what your brother said, and you feel a little bad about what happened earlier. There’s a pen and some paper scattered on your bedroom floor. You crawl out of bed and grab the pen before sneaking right back in.

Your brother said you’re supposed to be nice to your soulmate, so nice is how you’ll be.

You’re not expecting a reply, but you have nothing else to do but sit here in the dark and stare at your arm. You’re technically supposed to be asleep, but you’re not tired yet. You’re never tired at bedtime. You’ve told your brother this before, but he never listens to you about it and makes you go to bed anyway. You guess that’s just the way brothers are.

Surprisingly, there’s something new on your arm.

For a minute, that seemed to be the end of your conversation with your soulmate. Something about that didn’t sit well with you, though. You don’t know if you really meant it or if you were just looking for an excuse to stay up later, but either way a plan hatched in your brain.

You sit here and wait, and you’re starting to get kind of tired. It doesn’t seem like your soulmate’s going to reply. Maybe they’re asleep. It’s probably bedtime for them, too, wherever they are. Maybe they don’t want to be friends

You’re starting to drift, but just as your vision begins to blur you see some more smudged up gray appear on your arm.

You smile. You’re friends with your soulmate now. Cool.

You go to sleep.

For the next four years, you and your soulmate talk practically everyday. A couple things have changed since you had your first conversation with them. For instance, you can now fit an entire conversation on your arm if you write small enough, and you can spell the majority of words you use correctly. Other than that, everything’s basically the same.

You’re playing video games at your house with your friends. You’re generally pretty good at this shit, but today’s an off day. Probably because you stayed up all night watching movies right before and haven’t gotten a wink of sleep since. You drag yourself to the kitchen to get yourself some apple juice while you can.

You’re poking a straw into your juice box when Rose comes in and joins you.

“Do you have snacks, Dave?” She asks, poking her head through your cupboards.

“We have chips in there somewhere, I think.” You say. “Juice box?”

“Yes, please.”

You toss her a juice box, which she catches easily. You can see a flash of green on her arm.

“What’s that?”

“What, this?” She points at the green on her arm. It looks like marker, which is strange because it’s not like Rose to draw on herself. “I told Kanaya I was going to try to kick some butt in a casual video game showdown between friends today, so she decided to send me a little good luck charm.”

“Kanaya?”

“My soulmate, Dave.” Rose rolls her eyes and goes back to rummaging through the cupboards for chips. “Did I not tell you about her?”

“No, I knew about her, I just didn’t know what her name was.” You shrug. You also didn’t know Rose’s soulmate was a girl until just now.

“Well, as I said, her name is Kanaya.” She pulls a bag of Doritos out from the very back of the cupboard. “She’s very sweet. I think you would like her.”

“Yeah, I probably would. Any soulmate of my friend’s is a friend of mine.”

“I hope that’s true.” She tears the bag open. “I’m also hoping the same for yours if we ever have the chance to meet. Remind me, what was their name again?”

You glance at the doodle on Rose’s arm. You only just now realize it’s a little green heart. “I don’t know.”

You’ve been talking to your soulmate a lot these past couple years, and yet somehow you never bothered to ask for their name. Of course, this isn’t all on you, they never asked for yours either. Still, now that Rose mentions it while flaunting the fact that she knows her soulmate’s name, it does seem weird that you don’t know it. That definitely seems like something you should know.

“That’s fine.” Rose says with a shrug. “Tell me when you do know their name. That’ll make it a lot easier to talk about them to each other.”

She takes her juice and bag of chips back into the other room before you can say anything more about it. You follow her back in and don’t say anything more about it.

After a few more rounds where you managed to redeem yourself by handing everybody their ass like it’s going out of style (which it’s not), you resign yourself to asking the big, awkward question once all of your friends leave.

When they do finally leave (they stayed a lot longer than you thought, which was awesome) you end up sitting on your couch with a pen in your hand, the tip pressed into the bare skin of your arm. You’ve been talking to your soulmate for so long, you feel like an idiot for having to ask a question like this. You sigh to yourself and start writing small so you can fit as much of a conversation as you can on your arm.

You sit there and wait for them to give you the go ahead to ask. They don’t respond, so you take it as an okay to continue.

You really don’t want to, but you know you’re going to have to get this awkward question out of the way eventually. You may as well do it now.

You wait patiently. Part of you is really worried about the possibility of having already exchanged names. There’s a chance that you did it years earlier but forgot. If that’s the case and they remember your name, you’re really gonna feel awful about this. You watch as a four letter word is scrawled in big messy letters on your arm.

You pull off your sock and hunch over your foot. Feet are a weird surface to write on, and you usually try not to write on them, but it’s a lot easier than writing on your leg when you’re wearing pants. You start writing in smaller, cramped letters so you can write as much as possible.

So your soulmate’s name is Karkat. It’s a weird name and you’ve never heard it before, but it feels fitting somehow. You don’t know why that is, probably because of some dumb, impossible to comprehend soulmate stuff. Whatever the reason is, you can’t wait to learn more stuff about your soulmate. Until then, you decide the best course of action is to take a shower. There’s a lot of ink on your skin and you want to get it off of you before your brother gets back home.

After that, you try your best to learn as much about your soulmate as possible without seeming like a weirdo. You learn tons of things about Karkat, like the fact that he loves romantic comedies and spends the entire weekend lazing around on his couch watching them and that he really really loves Will Smith. Mostly Fresh Prince of Bel-Aire. You made fun of him for it once and he wrote all of the lyrics to the theme song out on your arm, and then the lyrics to the Alternian equivalent, Thresh Prince.

It took you longer than you’d like to admit to figure out that Karkat’s a troll. You’ve only known a few trolls in your life and so far they’ve all seemed pretty chill, if a little on the weird side, so it was actually pretty cool to learn that your soulmate is one. You asked him to teach you how to write in Alternian once because you knew the letters were a lot different than the ones in English. He used your interest to take revenge and scribble the Alternian alphabet all over you just like you did the first time you’d talked to him. After he was finished with that he did take the time to show you how to write your name.

Other than those bits of information, you haven’t really learned a lot of relevant things about him. You have no idea how old he is, where he lives, or what the fuck his favorite color is (that’s not really important, but he mentioned it as one of the basic things to learn about a person before and the fact that you still don’t know it is upsetting). It’s an extremely hot day in the summer when you’re twelve that you finally learn some more information about him.

You run out of room on your thigh, so you move down your leg a little more.

You’re getting too fucking hot laying on this couch with a fan blowing hot air back at your face. You get up and walk over to the kitchen to get a popsicle. Maybe that will help cool you down some.

Fuck, you want to stick your head in the freezer. It’s so hard to resist the urge. You grab the popsicle and trudge back over to the couch, sitting upside down with your legs propped up over the back. Your legs are so slick with sweat you could rub the ink right off with your shirt if you really wanted to. You check if Karkat said anything while you were on your popsicle run. He didn’t.

You bring your leg down and scrawl across your calf.

You’d never expected Karkat to live someplace other than Alternia, since he’s a troll. The more you think about it, the more you realize what a stupid assumption that really was. Not a lot of trolls live on Alternia anymore, and if he did live on Alternia, why the fuck would he know English?

Who knows, maybe he’s close. A guy can hope, right?

Holy shit. Holy shit holy shit holy shit.

You switch legs, which was probably for the best because the one you were writing on was starting to cramp up a bit.

You start drawing the shittiest but most accurate self portrait on your arm that you can. It’s a lot more difficult than you thought it would be because your arms are even more sweaty than your legs and the ink keeps accidentally rubbing off of your skin. On top of that, you haven’t finished your popsicle and you’re trying your hardest to keep it from dripping on your shorts. Eventually you give up and just shove the stupid thing in your mouth.

It takes you a long time to finish it, and when you’re done you’re certain it’s the worst thing you’ve ever drawn in your entire fucking life. You hope Karkat doesn’t mind. Hey, at least it kinda looks like you.

You take your pen to your right arm and try to write as neatly as you can.

You get up and run to the bathroom so you can get the best look at Karkat’s drawing as you possibly can. You can’t stop laughing at it as soon as you see it. It’s…it’s so fucking bad. You couldn’t draw anything this bad no matter how hard you tried.

You run out of the bathroom to go get your camera and throw away your popsicle stick on your way back to the bathroom. You snap several pictures, all of them are perfect and awful. This is probably the best thing you’ve ever gotten from Karkat. You put down your camera and pick your pen back up.

You wait a long time, a lot longer than you thought it would take given the fact that he lives in the same god damn state. But no, for some reason it seemed pretty much fucking impossible for you to find the time to actually go and meet with Karkat. He’s not even a full day’s drive away from you there in Amarillo, and yet you haven’t gotten any closer to meeting him than when you thought he lived an entire planet away.

It’s really frustrating, especially with everybody around you growing closer and closer to meeting their soulmates and making future plans with them once you reached high school. Fuck, Rose’s soulmate lived in New York and even she got to meet her before you got anywhere close to meeting Karkat.

You’re gritting your teeth and lamenting this fact while doing (or pretending to do) your homework when you see something written on your arm in gray. Wow, think of the devil.

You get back to your homework and contemplate about what you’re going to do with Karkat once he gets everything figured out with his move.

You can’t believe this is happening. You’re finally going to meet him. You’re finally going to meet your soulmate!

Two weeks pass by without word from Karkat. You wonder if he’s okay, but you chalk up his silence to the fact that he probably just jumped the gun with the whole telling you he would contact you once he was finished moving.

You’re brushing your teeth when you see something scrawled on the back of your arm. It sends a jolt through your chest. Karkat writing to you means he must have gotten himself settled in. Or that he’s at least in town now. You finish brushing your teeth and stare down at your arm.

You doodle something really quick on your finger and start washing the conversation off your arm. You manage to get most of it off by the time Karkat responds.

It takes you a couple more minutes to wash most of the ink off of your arm. It’s still there, slightly visible on your skin. You have to give up or you’ll be late for school. Maybe today is a sweatshirt day.

You don’t hear from Karkat for the next couple days, which is totally fine since you figure he’s still trying to figure everything out with school and his new house and all that shit. Whatever’s going on with him, you hope he’s having an okay time and that you can finally meet him sometime soon.

John is leaning against a wall outside the school, which is unusual for him because usually he just leaves with his dad as soon as he can. You don’t have anywhere you need to be, so you walk over and join him.

“Hey, whatcha doing?” You ask, sliding down the wall to sit down on the grass. You don’t feel like standing around.

“Hey, Dave!” He looks down at you and grins. “I’m just waiting for a friend to get here.”

“Okay.” That’s not all that surprising. John’s pretty good at making friends. “Mind if I wait with you?”

“That’s fine, this is going to get boring if he takes too long.” John replies with a shrug. “I hope he gets here soon.”

You wait with John and talk about movies and video games and shit, nothing really particularly important. It’s fifteen minutes before John’s friend finally shows up. You realize when you see him trudging over to you from the parking lot and not from the building that he probably goes to a different school.

He takes his sweet time walking over, which is sort of annoying because he made John wait fifteen fucking minutes, the least he could do was try to hurry his ass up. Eventually, he does reach the both of you.

“Hey,” John is completely too energetic for a kid who just got out of a long day of school, “I was starting to wonder where you were.”

“Sorry,” this new kid says, sounding not sorry at all and looking exactly how you feel after a long day of school, “I got lost on my way over here.”

This new guy runs a hand through his hair, and you can just barely see his horns peeking out from under what looks like a tangled mess. Whoever he is, he looks exhausted and annoyed. He’s not annoyed at anything in particular, but you can see him trying to direct his annoyance somewhere.

“Can we go now?” He asks agitatedly.

“Yeah, sure.” John stoops to pick up his backpack off the ground. “Before we go, did you want to meet my friend? This is-”

“Listen, John, I don’t give a fuck who your friend is.” He interrupts. “I’m sure he’s fine or whatever, but I’m just not in the mood to waste my energy on being genial to new people I couldn’t give less of a shit about.”

“Geez, okay. A simple no would have been fine.” John says, slinging his backpack onto one shoulder and rolling his eyes.

“Of course, but it wouldn’t have gotten my point across. Now are we going or not?”

“Yeah, we’re going. You go on ahead, I’ll catch up with you.” The troll kid rolls his eyes and starts walking away. John takes the opportunity to turn to you. “Sorry. He’s an okay guy once you get used to him.”

You nod. “I’m sure he is.”

John runs off to catch up with his friend, and you shuffle on back home. A few hours later, you find a message from Karkat written on your hand.

Your heart skips a beat. This must be the moment you were waiting for.

You cover pretty much every available visible piece of skin on your body with ideas of what to do this weekend before you and Karkat both settle on this little cafe that you’re both familiar with. It seems like the best option. It’s small, quiet, and you and Karkat could talk for hours over drinks and get to know each other better. It has that perfect, completely cliche first date kind of feel.

The week drags on pretty slow after that, but it passes and the weekend finally hits. It’s Saturday, and you’re both excited and a little nervous about meeting Karkat for the first time. You’re going to finally hear your soulmate’s voice, see his face, actually hold a real conversation with him. That’s insane. It doesn’t seem real. How the fuck do people deal with this?

You arrive at the cafe a half hour earlier than when you were scheduled to meet. You figured if you stayed at home you might manage to talk yourself out of doing this and end up ditching him accidentally. You order a drink and take a seat at the first open area you find

Fifteen minutes of nursing your drink in your hands later, you see someone you recognize walk in. John’s new troll friend with the little horns and the annoyed face. He walks up, orders something, and takes a seat close to the door. Apparently he’s also waiting for somebody.

After twenty minutes and a refill on your drink later, you start to wonder where Karkat is. He was supposed to get here ten minutes ago. He’s still new in town, maybe he got lost. Houston was big, it could happen pretty easily.

You doubted that was the case, though.

You give Karkat the benefit of doubt and another twenty minutes before you seriously start to consider the fact that he might not be coming, after all. It was a disappointing prospect, but it’s not like you didn’t get it. You’d almost thought about flaking yourself.

If that was what happened, you would try to be as understanding as possible and maybe take a raincheck on the whole meeting in person thing. Maybe it would have been better to start slow with this. Exchange phone numbers and email addresses and shit, contact each other through more than just skin.

Speaking of possibly being ditched, the troll up front doesn’t seem to be having much luck, either. He’s clearly waiting for someone, he’s been sitting there staring at the door for almost a full hour. Honestly, you probably wouldn’t give a shit about it if he didn’t look so fucking sad.

In a spur of the moment show of compassion, you decide to go sit with the guy and keep him company until his friend or whoever the fuck gets here or he realizes they’re not coming.

You slide your cup onto the table and sit down across from him. “You’re John’s friend, right?” He gives you a wary look. “And you’re that asshole from the other day.”

“Hey, if anyone was being an asshole at the time, it was you.” You point out. “I didn’t say two words to you.”

“I can sense an asshole a mile away, and you, sir, are an asshole.“ He crosses his arms over his chest. “What the fuck do you want?”

“I saw you waiting over here and I figured I’d come keep you company until your friend gets here.”

He glares at you. “What makes you think I want your company?”

“Nothing.” You admit with a shrug. “You just looked lonely as shit. I can leave if you’d rather sit here and wait by yourself.”

At first he looks like he’s going to say something snarky in return, but then the concept of waiting here even longer by himself hits him. He glances down at his watch, his shoulders sagging slightly at all the time that’s passed. “You can stay, but you better not piss me off.”

You nod. “I’ll try my best, but no promises.”

Your conversation starts out awkward, you have no idea what to talk about and the person you’re sitting with isn’t being much help since he refuses to tell you anything about himself. You’re forced to carry the first couple minutes of the conversation on your own, but once you offhandedly mentioned Dane Cook, the guy wouldn’t shut up and the conversation only grew from there. You talked about a lot of shit, most of it was really stupid, but it was all pretty fun. You could understand why John was friends with this guy, he does seem like a genuinely okay guy once you got to know him a little bit, and on top of that he was pretty funny, you don’t think you’ve laughed this hard in months.

As much fun as you’re having, though, it’s pretty clear this guy’s still distracted. He keeps glancing at his watch or at the door, still waiting for whoever it is to show up. With every minute that passes, it becomes clearer to you that his friend just isn’t gonna show, which fucking sucks. But hey, what else can you do besides wait it out with him?

It’s another twenty minutes before he calls it quits.

“Listen,” he says as he stands, “this has been great and all, but I think I’m going to fuck off while I still have a shred of dignity left intact.”

“Oh. Yeah, sure.” You nod. “I’ll see you around.”

He pushes his chair in and heads out the door, the bell chiming behind him as he exits. You’re working on your third drink now and feeling way too over caffeinated for your own good. This is going to be your last one and then you’re going to head on home.

You don’t have time to even take another sip of your drink and feel lonely at your now empty table when Karkat finally messages you with what you’re expecting to be an explanation of his absence.

It’s not.

What the fuck? Was he here while you weren’t paying attention? If he was waiting for an hour, then he only just left.

Wait.

It couldn’t be…

You run out of the cafe, hoping you can get to him quickly. John’s friend-Karkat-hasn’t gotten far.

“Karkat!” You yell as you run over to him.

He jumps and turns around. He looks confused when he sees you. “Dave?”

You stop and try to catch your breath. “Hey.”

He squints at you suspiciously. “How do I know it’s really you?”

You could easily roll up your sleeve and show him your most recent conversation with him, but you choose instead to go a different route. You draw a smiley face on your finger.

It shows up simultaneously on Karkat’s finger, and he smirks at it. “You’re an even bigger dork in person.”

“And you’re a lot smaller in person.”

He snorts. “What the fuck’s that supposed to mean?”

“My dick is definitely bigger than your horns.”

It takes him a minute to realize what the fuck you’re talking about, but when it finally hits him he bursts out laughing. “I can’t fucking believe this. You’re still on that? Dave, that was four years ago!”

“Of course I’m still on that. Size matters, Karkat!” You reply insistently. “Now hey, where are you heading off to? Maybe I could tag along and we could try this thing over again.”

Karkat shakes his head. “I was just going back to my hive. I have some homework and more unpacking to do. I’m almost done but not yet. You can walk me back if you want to.”

Karkat offers you his arm, and you accept it. “I’d be glad to.”

You walk with your arms linked over to Karkat’s hive. You chat this time, too, but this time it’s a more personal, in depth discussion. You don’t talk as much this time as you did back in the cafe, now that you know that the boy with you is Karkat, all you want to do is listen to him talk and watch his face and his hand gestures. He’s a lot more expressive than you’d imagined and it’s honestly amazing to look at. You’ve been waiting to see this your entire life, or at least since you were six. You make it to his place a lot sooner than you would have hoped, so you walk him all the way over to his door.

Karkat takes his arm back but doesn’t go inside. He clearly doesn’t want to end your discussion so soon. He looks at his door for a long time and runs a hand through his hair.

He turns back to you and offers an apologetic shrug. “I’d invite you inside, but so far it looks like the results of a tornado colliding with a junk yard and my lusus would be furious with me if I let anyone see the level of shit we’ve been wading in.”

You nod. You honestly wouldn’t give a shit if he lived in a literal pig sty, you just want to spend more time with him and talk some more. From Karkat’s face you can tell he also would have preferred that. It’s too late for that now, you already walked him home. You’re both just hovering awkwardly at his door.

“We’re going to have to do this again sometime.” You finally say. “Sometime soon.”

“Yeah, especially now that we know what we both look like in comparison to those fucked up self portraits we drew.”

“Hey, fuck you, I really liked those! I still have that picture of yours I took.”

Karkat raises an eyebrow. “You actually took a picture of that shit? I thought you were kidding!”

“Nope. One hundred percent bona fide not kidding. Maybe I’ll bring it and show you next time.”

“Oh god, it’s probably even uglier than I remember.”

“Nonsense, it’s beautiful.”

Karkat’s about to make a rebuttal, probably about you cramming your fake ass compliments in some bodily orifice when there’s a loud noise from his hive. “I’ll be there in a minute, hold your fucking hoofbeasts!” He snaps back at the noise. He turns back around to you. “I should probably get inside, my lusus is throwing a fit.”

“Yeah. We’ll do this again sometime.” You reply. “I’ll talk to you later, Karkat.”

You start to walk away, but he grabs your hand before you have the chance to get very far. “Wait.”

You stand there and watch as Karkat takes a pen out of his back pocket while still holding tightly onto your hand. He rolls up your sleeve and starts writing on your arm. You try to read while he’s writing out of curiosity, but your view is blocked. When he’s finished writing on your arm, he brings your hand closer to his face and starts drawing on your finger. You have no idea what the fuck he’s doing. You take the opportunity to read your arm.

“Karkat, what the fuck is this?”

“My phone number.” He answers bluntly. “We can talk a lot easier and a lot longer on a phone than we could with this writing on ourselves shit. And I kind of like the way your voice sounds, so.” Karkat shrugs and lets go of your hand.

You take a look at your finger to see what he drew and you can’t help but laugh. It’s a little gray smiley face with two dots above it that you think are supposed to be his horns. “Holy shit, you fucking copycat.”

“Hey, fuck off, this is an entirely original character design!” Karkat says, poking you in the chest. “That’s a tiny Karkat to keep you company until we see each other again.”

“Oh my god, you unoriginal dweeb.”

“Shut up, you love it.”

“You’re right, I do.” You admit immediately. “Thanks. I’m never washing this hand again.”

Karkat wrinkles his nose. “Please, for the love of fuck, continue washing your hands. I don’t want to have to feel responsible for whatever bacteria starts eating the flesh off of the petri dish you call a palm.”

There’s yet another noise from inside his hive. You wonder what kind of monster thing his lusus is. You’ve never met one before, but you know most of them resemble giant, more terrifying versions of Earth creatures. You can’t tell what kind of animal noise this is, it’s one that’s completely foreign to you.

“I have to go.” Karkat sighs. “I’ll see you later, Dave.”

“Yeah, see you.” You start going your separate ways. “I’ll call you.”

“Oh, you fucking better.” Karkat yells back to you as he closes the door.

You start walking home. You’re almost back at the cafe when it occurs to you that you should probably put his number into your phone. You roll up your sleeve. There’s something new written on your arm.

You probably look like an idiot smiling down at your arm like this, but you don’t give a shit.

You’re going to leave it at that, but a thought crosses your mind while your typing his number into your phone.

#really long post #dave strider #karkat vantas #davekat #fanfic #soulmate au #it's that one where what you write on yourself appears on your soulmate #first for those fic requests #i'm sorry this took so long #and that parts of it are messed up #but i hope you liked it anyway #i had a lot of fun writing this #my fanfiction #fic request #yo it's a fic and I wrote it

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artificialqueens · 7 years

Text

Withstanding The Test Of Time Ch2 - Shalaska - pureCAMP

A/N - thank you so much to everyone who voted for me or nominated me in aqficawards!! i’m stupidly flattered and i love you all, this long one goes out to you and also to my lovely “clique” <3

Two excruciating weeks was the exact length of time Sharon was forced to stay in the Belli residence. Though she felt bad for it, she’d felt as though she was counting every hour until she was allowed to leave. Willam and Courtney were fun for nights out, and Farrah was cute in the occasional visit, but two weeks of domestic life in a suburban home had cemented a few new facts in Sharon’s mind.

One, Willam and Courtney were a disgusting couple. Since Courtney had worked from home for a while, she would see Willam out of the door each morning, baby Farrah balanced on her hip, both of them waving as he left. When he came home, she greeted him at the door with a lingering kiss and a smile, excitedly telling him about her day and listening to him talk about his. Their eyes seemed to sparkle whenever they looked at one another, and even when they argued – a domestic argument about washing up duties, no less – it still ended with kisses and hugs. All of this was within view of Sharon, stranded pathetically on the couch, unable to escape the suffocating atmosphere of love and family life.

Second, if she thought daytime TV was bad, children’s TV was infinitely worse. In fact, she needed to backtrack. Daytime TV could be quite enjoyable, and Sharon was partial to some Nancy Grace or Jeremy Kyle if the occasion arose. But children’s TV was quite honestly the most over-produced, artificial garbage her eyes had ever looked upon. If one more skinny, pig-tail wearing brunette grinned whilst inches away from the screen, or terrifying alien-like creatures pretended they couldn’t find their friends, she was going to explode. How could there be so many identical programmes on TV? Little Farrah giggled and clapped at all of them, thoroughly enjoying herself, and even whilst working Courtney would chuckle a little here and there.

Third, and possibly the most significant thing Sharon had learned, was that she was positive now that the soulmate life wasn’t for her.

Willam and Courtney were just so perfect. They were a hive mind – what one wanted, the other wanted too – and had this amazing team dynamic where things just seemed to get done equally, and fast. They were affectionate and beyond in control of their lives and twenty four years old living the American dream of sorts.

Sharon knew she wasn’t ready for anything like that. Nor would she ever be.

It was a relief to be back at work – and that was something Sharon thought she’d never feel. Despite hating her co-workers, being able to stand up on her own and be in an environment of entirely adults was completely refreshing. She probably shouldn’t have been in heels so soon after recovering, but it was really all or nothing. Surviving in the office with the Real Housewives of Office 7B was a fucking challenge, and the last thing Sharon needed was to deal with their obnoxiousness and be shorter than them. At the very least, she needed to match their stiletto-boosted height.

“Hey, Sharon Needles!” A lazy voice called. “You look so pretty today! I heard grey is a really in colour for fall this season. Seems like your corpse-spinster complexion will finally be cool.”

Kimora seemed impressed with her own read, subtly high-fiving Pearl as the other girls around them started to laugh. Honestly, it was like Sharon had suddenly regressed back into fucking high school, only these girls were richer, prettier, and smarter.

“Oh, fuck you.” Sharon dismissed her, ducking her head down on her way to her desk as the girls jeered at her lack of a response. She really didn’t have the energy to fight back against their cattiness, and the days usually went by quicker when she managed to grin and bear it.

Thankfully, no one pursued her, and Sharon made it to her desk in one piece. The surface was definitely tidier than she’d left it – the scattered pens had been replaced into their stands, the assorted paperwork was neatly ordered in a pile, and the endless amount of post-it notes that were stuck all around her monitor had been neatly stuck in a row along the bottom of the computer screen. By the looks of things, Sasha had taken the liberty of tidying her things whilst she’d been away.

That wasn’t the only thing Sasha had done. Carefully placed in the middle of the desk was a small card, most likely handmade, with Sasha’s swirly handwriting on the front. Sharon smiled briefly as she sat down, opening the card to read the sweet ‘get well soon’ message that had been written inside, along with a few scribbled hearts and a short message from Shea too. She made a mental note to thank her as she switched on the monitor, shuffling her chair closer and relaxing a little. At least Sasha wouldn’t make the day hell for her.

Sharon’s desk was right next to Sasha’s, which was a total polar opposite to how Sharon’s usually appeared. Her desktop was messy, disorderly, and stained with coffee. Her computer screen still had the generic company background, overshadowed by the plethora of tabs and documents that she had open, which she’d rapidly switch between during the rare times she was actually at her desk. The only personal items she had was a small bottle of sun lotion in her drawer and a former Halloween decoration that was supposed to dance once activated, but hadn’t worked in years.

Sasha on the other hand was the epitome of organisation. Everything had its place and was just so, prettily organised in colours and everything stacked neatly where it needed to be. She’d personalized her computer screen to show a photograph of her and Shea on a vacation to LA the previous year, and her desk may as well have been a second home. Sharon envied Sasha’s ability to make anywhere feel homely, but she imagined it was a skill the woman had been born with.

It wasn’t long after Sharon had switched on her monitor that Sasha arrived, professionally dressed with her own quirky flare and warm smile to match. She greeted Sharon with a lingering hug and one of her famous smiles, before sitting at her own desk to begin her latest article.

“I’m so glad you’re back, Sharon, it’s been so boring without you. The office feels wrong without you being here.”

Sharon suspected Sasha was just being kind – as was in the woman’s nature – but nevertheless she appreciated the compliment. With a wry smile, she ran a hand through her hair and nodded.

“I bet the bitches have missed me so much. Having to make their own coffee? Oh, the horror!”

Sasha laughed. “To think I had to deal with them alone, I can never come up with mean comebacks the way you do. I’m glad you’re doing better now, though. I nearly had a heart attack when I heard you’d been hit.”

Sharon hummed. “It was awful. Not so much the accident, but spending two weeks with Willam, Courtney, and Nugget. I miss my crappy apartment and being alone. I’m pretty sure being surrounded by happy families is only making me more and more certain that it’s not the life for me. I swear Willam and Courtney wake up happy. I’m a monster morning and night.”

“Oh, Sharon,” Sasha chastised jokingly. “I’m a monster too, you and me both. Monsters can be happy too, you know. It takes time and hard work but it can happen. And if you’re worried about…” She trailed off, her eyes drifting down to Sharon’s arm, still wrapped in a bandage but thankfully out of the sling. “…you know… you still have time. Things can change.”

Time. Sasha was well-meaning, but she couldn’t have picked a worse word to say. Fucking time. As if it wasn’t bad enough to hate timers, now the very word made Sharon dizzy and nauseous. Even when she’d had to change bandages or shower, she’d kept the accusing timer firmly covered, not even peeking at it once. She couldn’t bring herself to look at it.

“I-I… I don’t –”

Before Sharon could elaborate any further, a voice from across the room started yelling.

“Sharon! Hey! Sharon! Decaf, no sugar or milk! And be quick about it!” Sharon stood up to see Violet, a couple of rows of desks away, her sculpted eyebrows raised expectantly. Sasha rolled her eyes in sympathy.

Although she’d been half tempted to deliver Violet a fully caffeinated, sugary mug of coffee, Sharon had less of a death wish than her wilful running in front of cars may have suggested. For the sake of a quiet life, she kept her grumbling to a minimum as she played barista, watching out for stray heeled feet in case someone tried to trip her once again. Violet, as usual, accepted without any thanks and simply flicked her wrist to dismiss her. Normally, Sharon would have argued, but she didn’t have the energy.

“Ugh.” Sharon groaned, sinking back into her seat and continuing her pointless article about celebrity relationships – because of course, everywhere she went, the topic of love had to haunt her. “Fucking Violet. She treats me like I’m some eighteen-year-old intern with zero qualifications other than coffee-making. I fucking can’t with her.”

“She’s so rude, I have to agree. It doesn’t take any more energy to be kind than it does to be mean.” Sasha added thoughtfully. “What were you saying before she interrupted?”

Sharon blanched. “I – uh – not here. I don’t wanna… not right now. M-Maybe we can talk later?”

“How about lunch? We can talk then.”

For the most part, the morning had passed smoothly. Nobody else made Sharon chase drinks and documents – except for Gia, who asked for a drink and decided after one sip she didn’t want it after all – and she actually managed to get a little bit of work done. Soon enough, Top Ten Celebrity Soulmates That’ll Melt Your Heart would be published to the company website. Sharon was embarrassed to even have her name on the tagline; it was a poorly devised Buzzfeed parody-wank. Even the language used in the article was painful, the words having a gloriously artificial, joyful tone to them that was utterly foreign to Sharon’s dialect. Still, she reasoned, it had to be something.

Even so, her eyes had been constantly drawn to the small digital clock at the bottom right of her computer screen. The ticking of the wall clock in the centre of the room had seemed louder somehow, slicing through time with each tick. Sharon was suddenly hyper-aware of time passing, and everything seemed to be happening too quickly.

Sasha had left a few minutes earlier to collect her lunch from the communal fridge, and the office was empty with the exception of Sharon at her desk. She’d been mindlessly refreshing her emails, zoning out at the depressingly barren inbox, hoping someone wanted her to write something. Anything.

“Hey, girl. You wanna join us for lunch?” Sasha called, pulling Sharon out of her thoughts. She turned, spotting Sasha stood nearby with Mrs Taylor, one of the assistant managers.

After a moment of thought, Sharon shook her head. “I’m okay. I think I’ll just eat at my desk.”

Sharon ate at her desk nearly every day. It was lonely, and a little awkward, but she’d rather deal with the silence than the grating vocals of Gia, Kimora, Violet and anyone else who found amusement in Sharon’s discomfort.

Sasha seemed to murmur something to Mrs Taylor, and with an encouraging nod, abandoned the assistant manager to sit next to Sharon at her desk. She offered another of her warm smiles as she approached and fixed Sharon with her usual concerned gaze.

“Are you okay to talk now? If I’m pushing you then please let me know because that’s not my intention at all, I just want to find out if you’re okay. You seem quiet today.”

Avoiding Sasha’s gaze was impossible. The woman was so genuinely, sincerely caring that trying to hide anything from her just felt wrong. Sasha wanted to help. She was the only person Sharon saw on the regular who had time for her and her life.

Sharon pursed her lips as she tried to think of where to begin. “I… can you keep a secret?”

Sasha nodded. “Of course.”

“It’s…” She trailed off. “I’m sorry. I don’t talk about this, but I guess… You’re really the only person who takes the time to understand my stance on things… you don’t judge me, you listen. Sorry, I’m rambling.”

Sasha placed a hand reassuringly on Sharon’s shoulder. “Don’t apologise, I’ll always be here to listen if you need me. I’m guessing this is about timers?”

Unsuccessfully, Sharon tried to control her involuntary wince. It was blatantly obvious that she’d reacted to the word, but thankfully Sasha was kind enough to ignore it and pretend she hadn’t noticed. Sharon knew there was no way she hadn’t – Sasha was easily one of the most perceptive and intelligent people she’d met, perhaps ever – but she appreciated her efforts in covering for her.

“Yeah. Yeah. Did yours… ever change?” Sharon bit her lip. “Other than just counting down?”

“Never.” Sasha shook her head. “It just went steadily down to zero, and then a month later I married Shea. Wh-”

Before Sasha could finish her sentence, Sharon swore loudly, cutting her off. Within seconds her palms had grown sweaty, her skin flushed red as her heart beat rapidly.

A month.

How could she have forgotten? It was one of the things Sharon despised the most, one of the laws she protested the most fiercely. So long as you were over eighteen, you had to marry your soulmate within a month of your timer reaching zero! The law had never been changed, regardless of how much Sharon and Bianca had poured their time into arguing against. How, how, how it had slipped her mind?

“Shit. Shit shit shit fuck fuck. Sasha! A month. A fucking month. Holy shit.”

She was trembling, hardly able to breathe. Sasha noticed her beginning to panic, her chest rising and falling too quickly, her breaths becoming short and shallow. She was becoming more and more frantic by the second.

“Here,” Sasha said quickly, grabbing Sharon by the hand and supporting her practically limp body as she dragged her towards the toilets. Once they were inside, Sasha furtively checking that the stalls were empty, she forced Sharon to drink from the small fountain in the corner and gently splashed her face with a little bit of water from the tap.

“Breathe, breathe,” She murmured calmly, rubbing soothing circles on Sharon’s back. “You’re okay, don’t panic. Everything’s gonna be alright.”

Sharon wasn’t sure when she’d started crying. She hadn’t even noticed, what with the water being splashed on her face, but the unmistakably hot, salty tears had started to flow beyond her control. She hiccupped slightly and rubbed her eyes, doubly certain that for once, Sasha was actually incorrect.

“No it’s not.” She sniffed. “I completely forgot. A month, I-I don’t even have that. Sasha, what –”

Sasha interjected as politely as she could. “Sharon, Sharon, girl. Take a second to breathe and think, you can do this. I want to help you.”

Sharon remembered one of her old high school teachers giving a famous lecture to the school. They happened frequently, they were boring, but one of them had stuck with her ever since it had happened. The woman had stood in front of everyone, leaning closely against the podium before her, and told them all about courage. She probably had rambled on for longer than Sharon cared to listen to, but at the very least she’d remembered the key message. All you need is five seconds of courage to get you into a situation. Then you have to push through it because you’ve made it happen.

“My timer ran out two weeks ago.”

You have to push through it.

Sasha listened intently, shock evident in her wide eyes, as Sharon talked. It was the first time Sharon had actually recounted the full story out loud, rather than mulling it over in her head like some sadistic form of self torture. It felt more than ever like the number two was haunting her. Two years had decreased to two minutes. She had a marriage approaching in two weeks. Soulmates were everywhere, the fundamental idea of two hearts joining to make one. When was one decided to be not enough?

It was happening. In a mere two weeks, Sharon would have to get married. She couldn’t refuse, she couldn’t not turn up, she couldn’t fight against the law she’d protested so often. No amount of signs or slogan t-shirts could get her out of this one. Whether she liked it or not – in this case, not – in two weeks time she would be a married woman.

At the end of it all, Sasha pulled Sharon into a tight hug and squeezed her, one hand rubbing her back as she let her friend bury her face into her blazer. Sharon had long stopped crying but that didn’t mean that she was calm by any means – her breaths were still shorter and quicker than ever before. Sasha herself bore no ill-will towards soulmates at all, but she took care to understand everyone’s view and knew just how deeply Sharon hated them. She knew her co-worker had been secretly hoping that those two years would never come, and now she had to get married in a fortnight. She couldn’t even begin to imagine how she was feeling.

“Do…” Sasha approached the subject cautiously. “Do you know who it is?”

Sharon shook her head. “I haven’t looked. I-I can’t. There still t-tape over it.”

“Right.” Sasha fell silent. “Can I?”

“A-As long as I don’t see it, I guess… But you can’t tell anybody. This – this has to stay quiet.”

It only took a moment for Sharon to close her eyes, roll back her sleeve and allow Sasha to peel back the tape and have a look. Once she had the name memorised, she covered the timer up again and pulled Sharon into yet another hug. They lingered for a little while longer that time, Sasha waiting until Sharon’s breathing had started to return to normal before releasing her.

“You wanna head back to the office? Lunch break is nearly over, you haven’t even eaten.”

Sharon shrugged. “I’m not hungry anyway. Let’s just go back.”

People were beginning to filter back into the office in dribs and drabs when the pair emerged from the bathroom. Sasha had done her best to help clean Sharon up, wiping away smudged makeup and tidying up her appearance, but it was still glaringly obvious from her red eyes that she had been crying. Regardless, Sharon sat down at her desk and waited for someone to give her an order, knowing she wouldn’t have time to get started on any work before the demands came flooding in. Meanwhile, Sasha was scrolling through a variety of social media pages and Google results, muttering under her breath as she worked.

“Sharon? Will you come here please?”

Just as she’d predicted. Although the voice sounded sweet, the owner of it was anything but. Behind her artificial smile lay a venomous tongue and her immaculately painted eyes masked a cold, unfeeling stare. Sharon rose from her seat and made her way over to the Latina beauty, mentally preparing herself for the faux niceness.

“What do you want, Val?” Sharon deadpanned, too drained to bother injecting a note of happiness into her voice.

“It’s Valentina.” She corrected, baring her teeth in her trademark perfect smile. “I need you to take these papers for me and deliver them to the managers on the top floor. Quick quick.”

Sharon rolled her eyes. “Which managers?”

Valentina’s eye twitched. “Mrs Moore and Mrs Hides.”

Sharon probably could’ve prolonged the strange, forced conversation between her and Valentina – for example, asking why she referred to them as Mrs Moore and Mrs Hides when everyone knew them as Peppermint and Charlie – but the few short minutes of it were painful enough. Valentina directed Sharon towards a tall stack of papers to the left of her desk and then tapped away on her keyboard with her long nails, leaving Sharon to lift the gigantic stack and attempt to balance it against her chest.

After staggering towards the elevator at the far end of the office, Sharon readjusted her stance so she could try and press the buttons on the wall, her chin steadying the mountain of files clutched precariously in her other arm. Once she’d finally reached outwards, she heard a snigger and a voice.

“The elevator is broken, by the way.”

Sharon didn’t even bother looking at Violet before making her way over to the stairs, cursing under her breath. She was in heels, for Christ’s sake, and trying to carry a ten-ton stack of filed paperwork on a recently-healed broken arm. Was there no sympathy? Then again, nearly everyone in the office was absolutely ruthless. Considering all they did was produce articles by typing at computers all day, Sharon had no idea where all the anger came from. Nevertheless, what she did know was that it was all directed at the fucking intern.

At the end of the long journey up the flights and flights of stairs that the office possessed, a red-faced, exhausted Sharon reached the top floor, managed to palm off the stack of papers to Peppermint’s assistant, and made her way down all of the stairs and into her seat before anyone else could heckle her to do something for them. She’d been given permission to leave work early due to her so-called precarious state, and if she could get through her last hour with minimal movement, her weakened legs would thank her.

“Hey… Sharon?” Sasha greeted her as she sat back down. “I hope you don’t mind that I did this, I looked up the name that’s on your timer.”

Sharon stiffened. “And?”

“Do… do you wanna know anything about her? I won’t mention any names if you don’t want me to.”

Sasha chewed her lip, looking so uncertain that Sharon relented. They were friends, after all, and Sasha only wanted to be kind.

“Okay, why not.”

“Hm…” Sasha pondered as she stared at her screen, choosing select pieces of information. “I think she works as some sort of counsellor, by the looks of things. She’s tall. Blonde, very very pretty…”

She trailed off, gently touching Sharon’s arm. “The two of you might get along really well. You never know until you try, Sharon.”

Sharon sighed. “What does it matter? I have to marry her in two weeks whether I like her or not.”

At that, Sasha fell silent. Part of Sharon wanted to be satisfied that her pessimistic argument had won, but she often relied on Sasha to help lift her mood when she felt down. Silence meant that there wasn’t a way Sasha could use her big brain to twist the words into something a little more positive.

She worked her final hour in a glum silence, fetching and carrying a little, but mostly chipping away at another small and pointless article. At least it was work, she reasoned. It was mind-numbingly boring, and more than once her mind wandered down to the accusing piece of glass implanted into her arm.

Tall. Blonde. Pretty. Admittedly, she did sound like a catch. If Sharon was allowed to date freely and love whoever she wanted, rather than be forced into marrying the name on her timer, she’d probably be head over heels for this mystery woman. But on principle, she found herself disliking the image in her head. It didn’t matter how striking her looks may be, it was wrong that they had so little time to know one another before the nuptial agreement took away their freedom.

As it struck one, Sharon gathered her things and hastily made her way out. Willam’s car was in the car park – which was confusing, since he hadn’t said anything about picking her up. He stuck his head out of the window as she approached, waving wildly and only ducking inside once Sharon had climbed into the passenger seat.

“Good afternoon my wonderful, wonderful best friend.” Willam said sweetly. “Thought I’d be a good Samaritan and drop you home, save you the effort.”

Sharon was instantly suspicious. “Alright, cut the sh-” She looked behind her, spotting baby Farrah in the baby-seat and hurriedly backtracking. “Nevermind. Why are you being fake nice, what do you want from me? What have you done?”

“Sharon!” Willam sounded affronted. “Don’t accuse me of wanting something from you! I would never do something like that.”

“Spill.”

“…Courtney is having a party tonight with some friends from her work and I need someone to be there that I can hang out with without wanting to die. Please show up or else I’ll die.”

Sharon started to laugh. Willam always cracked so easily, the pair knew each other too well to keep up any charade for longer than a minute. Even though he was laughing too, there was a hint of begging in his eyes as he started the car and begin driving towards Sharon’s apartment.

“Please? I won’t make you look after Nugget, I won’t bully you, you have to do this for me. Come on, common ground. I may have changed but I hate those women as much as you do.” He pleaded.

Sharon had to give him that one. Courtney worked as a marriage therapist, a unique and fairly well-paying job in their society. They dealt with ‘problem’ soulmate cases – anything from felons and victims to anti-timer people who found themselves trapped in a wedding band. In rare cases they allowed divorces to happen, for example if abuse or any other factors were causing harm, but most of the time the therapists worked through couple’s issues so they could be the perfect little soulmates they were intended to be.

In fairness, Courtney was one of the nicer ones. She wasn’t obnoxious about her own marriage, or her job, but some of the people she worked with were downright revolting. Even though Willam had changed his tone on timers since his had ran out, he still bore an old hatred for those therapists.

Sharon nodded. “Fine, deal. But –” She held up her index finger, ready to make her terms. “Next time the two of us go out and get fully smashed, you’re paying. Uber and all. And you’re not allowed to cop out at 11pm claiming that you’re needed at home. Deal?”

Willam grunted. “Deal. I hate you.”

“How do I need to dress for your fu – for your party then?”

Willam shrugged. “Just look smart, that’s all you need to do. I’ll pick you up at 7?”

“Shi – wow, you really are desperate for my company. It’s nice to be wanted. I’ll be ready by then.” Sharon snorted, a touch of sympathy entering her words.

“Great.” Willam finalized. “Now get out of my car.”

Seven o’clock rolled around depressingly slow. Sharon supposed that was the result of being bored and alone in a shitty flat, so she’d spent the last few hours taking her sweet time getting ready. It wasn’t like she was going to put much effort in anyway; Courtney would always upstage her and besides, the women she worked with were bound to make sly comments anyway. Willam owed her one.

Naturally, he turned up ten minutes late with a well-fitted suit and his hair neatly combed back, making Sharon’s short dress and black purse look ridiculously cheap – which they were. Before he pushed open the front door, he warned her of Courtney’s tipsy state, wincing as his wife pulled Sharon into a tight hug and thrust her into the room. Wine glasses were scattered around the place and predominantly women seemed to fill every space. Despite Willam’s attempts to tug Sharon into the kitchen away from the hubbub, Courtney insisted on forcing her to meet everyone before letting her go.

“-who else have I missed, hm…” Courtney stared around the room, trying to find a face she hadn’t forced Sharon to speak to yet.

“Oh! I know!”

And then Sharon saw her.

Tall. Blonde. Pretty. Worked in counselling.

Alaska.

All of the pieces suddenly came together.

“What a horrible first impression for a s-”

“Shh!” Willam hissed, cutting the girl off. “Whatever you do, don’t say the s word around Sharon. Look, she’s alive. Don’t stress, Alaska.”

It was so obvious now.

“Sorry, sorry,” Alaska murmured profusely. “I’m trying to stop getting upset. That’s such a bad first impression and they always say first impressions matter and I always wanted my s-”

How hadn’t she seen the signs?

“No, no, listen to me. I’m saying this because I care about you, Alaska, but I also care about Sharon. I hate having to burst your bubble because I know how you feel about all this, but Sharon does not feel the same way. Look, I agree with you, I personally think it’s dumb, but she’s extremely set in her ways. If you even wanna be her friend, you gotta tone it down.”

Of course.

Her vision tunnelled, her gazed fixed on the eyes of the woman who couldn’t help but stare back, transfixed. Her mind ran at a mile a minute.

Alaska knew. Courtney knew. Willam knew and had purposely kept it from her. In two weeks time, she was the one Sharon would have to marry.

“Excuse me.” Sharon muttered tersely, and dashed out of the room.

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