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jimblejamblewritings · 8 months ago

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love letters and second sons | part 1.

Summary: The princess is finally ready to debut in society. But before she does, she decides to disguise herself and see the true faces of the ton.

Author's Note: Hello! Yes, I'm here with a wip before finishing my other stuff. The Bridgerton girlies have got me. Congratulations to you all. So before you read this, please read: I Hate Accidents by @i-hate-accidents AND Over The Garden Wall by @homeofthepeculiar AND The Ultimate Deception by @maximoff-pan. These stories are some of my favorites and really inspired this fic.

Warnings for the Series: light sexism in line with the times, light classism in line with the times, mental health stigma, shitty doctor care, smut, suicide attempt (will get it's own warning when the time comes),

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x princess!reader

Word Count: 5.4k

Author's Note: To those who have read my other works, you'll notice that the author Mercutio's stories are something special

My Dearest Ton and Wonderful United Kingdom,

I am pleased to welcome you all to the start of another social season. Of course, people love and look for love all year round but each year the season just seems to invite love to blossom. I hope all of you find the match to your souls. Marriage is a business but can it not have love as well? A business built with love surely must be a business that tries to last. I ask our respectful citizens and subjects of the United Kingdom to make love a part of their search.

I would also like to ask about businesses that do not involve marriage or love. How are you? In the business of health, is everyone safe from all sickness? In the business of finance, does everyone have enough to eat and clothe themselves without falling into poverty? Are businesses afloat even if only by a small margin? How are you? Truly, I want to know. If you would like to write to me, please do so. The royal mailboxes should still be in perfect condition.

Of course, if you have something urgent then I am sorry but you must come to the palace and request an audience. My valets hold all letters for a day or a few out of safety for everyone. But rest assured, I read every letter once received.

I would also like to say that I can feel the winds of the ton calling me to grace their presence and to stop being rude by ignoring them. Naturally, the wind is very rude to say this and then cut through my dress and chill my bones even when it is snowing. But I digress, the wind is right. The time for introduction must be soon. And a lovely time that will be. I cannot wait to meet you all.

Yours truly,

A Not So Young Anymore Youngest Princess Y/N Hanover (Truly, I need a proper surname and not just the name of my father’s house)

My Dearest Ton and Wonderful United Kingdom,

Would you like to know what I have learned yesterday? I know the Americas are still a touchy subject for some but I hope you don’t mind me talking about it, just to share my studies. Philadelphia is the center of American debate. So many great men (and women that have probably gone unnamed but aided their counterparts in their quest of education) have lived and are currently still living there.

Going to America simply for a debate sounds terribly dreadful. But what if we had one here that wasn’t relegated to just the universities. An entire city becoming a center of debate seems incredibly foolish, not to mention disruptive to its current residents, but buildings of debate do not seem like a bad idea.

Even if some feel like they aren’t smart enough, they should participate. Ideas are nurtured by sharing them. May some debates lead to great compromise and understanding and maybe even propositions for laws.

I, for one, debate with my father every day on which science is the most important to teach to young children and which science can wait until university should they like to pursue that path. He believes all of it. I believe that medicinal science is too much for a young mind and they only need to be taught how to mind their health until they can understand better. What do you think? I am delighted to hear your opinions. Maybe mine will be swayed.

Yours Truly,

Youngest Princess Y/N Buckingham (I am trying out new surnames until one I like sticks)

My Dearest Ton and Wonderful United Kingdom,

I apologize if my stance may be radical but nothing in society ever got done if the start wasn’t a little radical. I believe that young women should be properly taught about relations… let me just say it, sex. Not when they are children, no, but when they are about to debut. Consider it. You all know that as a royal, despite being a woman, I have been taught all things. Everyone is aware that I know what sex is. But if I and my sisters were taught sex so that we may be aware of malicious advances and be able to protect our virtue first rather than waiting for our virtues to be saved by someone and risk them being too late, then others should as well. Therefore, I implore all mothers and governesses to teach their young ladies about to debut what sex is. And to fathers who may be without wives, please find any woman to teach your daughters.

I shall return with more radical ideas for a better and more prosperous United Kingdom.

Yours truly,

Youngest Princes Y/N Kew

The printed letters delivered to London, had everyone enthralled in the early morning. Some people that lived close enough to the central town square didn’t bother with the prints and went straight to the wooden pin board there to look at the princess’ handwriting on the original letters. Whenever the Young Princess or the author Mercutio Quick wrote, people stopped and paid attention.

Princess Y/N was the people’s princess. The one who listened to their complaints and wasn’t cheap on her charitable acts. She was so much like her father, Farmer George. Even with his illness he still ran a good country… when he was in charge. So much better than her eldest brother, George IV. Then again, any royal sibling was better than their eldest brother, even if only by a very small percentage. Everyday the public hoped another child would challenge George the Younger. They would rally their support behind them.

They were hoping that any day George IV’s daughter, Charlotte, would have an heir. If she was pregnant then it would be so easy for the public to support her and convince either George IV to step down or convince Parliament to present a motion to King George. They would have a ruler and an heir. Charlotte the Younger would be the easiest transition for George IV to understand.

But neither her father nor husband seemed to care about the lack of heir. But the thought of succession and coups and duels was forgotten for a moment to read the Young Princess’ letters welcoming them to the new social season with new balls, debutantes, and drama.

In the Bridgerton house, the family ran around like chickens with their heads cut off. They were trying to get ready to present Daphne to the Queen while also trying to read the Young Princess’ letters. Benedict laughed as he slapped his copy of the letters.

“Mother would have a fit if she had to speak with Daphne about sex.”

“I’m surprised she would even suggest such a thing,” Colin said as he returned to reading the first letter, thinking he might actually write to the Young Princess about his familial concerns and wanting to travel desperately but being unsure about leaving them.

Eloise finally smiled as she came downstairs with the rest of her siblings. “I for one think it’s rather refreshing. She is right. Our mamas should be teaching us more than just how to meet the Queen… Daphne! You must make haste! Do you think she heard me?”

Colin rolled his eyes. “She most certainly did. But on the matter of the princess, what is wrong with a woman’s husband teaching her about sex?”

“Everything is wrong with that.”

“Hmm.”

He looked down to reread the paper, wondering if he could understand what the princess actually meant. Even though the letters were left at home, talk of the princess never ceased. How could it? The monarchy’s youngest princess might actually be joining them. Everyone wanted to know what she would look like, not in the face of course. Even her fourth brother didn’t take off his mask until after five months of being introduced to society and he was the shortest time it took to see the royal children’s face.

“Do you think she will be tall like her eldest sister or short? Plump?” Eloise asked as their carriages started their way towards the palace. “I’d imagine I’d be very lovely and plump if I could be stuck in a palace all day with the most wonderful food imaginable. Not that anyone should ever value a woman based on her body but Penelope has stated that her sisters are terribly upset because all the dress makers have started saying that plump is going to be in fashion once again in only a few years time and by the time they become plump it’ll be out of fashion again.”

Daphne looked out the window. “I wonder if she’ll look like the Queen or the King. Oh, what makeup do you think she’ll wear? What mask did she have created for herself? When do you think we’ll actually see her face?”

Violet touched the knees of all her girls. “Whatever she is like, do not be rude and gawk. The poor thing will already have the vultures’ eyes on her all night. If she even comes out tonight. Perhaps it will be at a ball this week. That would be quite a fantastic introduction. I do hope she at least meets us this season.”

Francesca smiled. “I imagine her dance card would be quite full.”

“She’d have bracelets of dance cards going up to her arm,” Daphne agreed.

“But she isn’t coming into society yet. She’s just introducing herself to us,” Eloise said.

“She’s still a princess royal. A very well-known one at that. There’s no way the men would pass on an opportunity to dance with her. They’d want to start making their intentions known now, get ahead of everyone else.”

The boys’ carriage was speaking of a different matter entirely. The princess and Mercutio had written to the ton at the same time. With the presentation to the Queen taking up so much of the day, most people wouldn’t be able to read his work until later that evening. Colin and Benedict simply couldn’t wait. Colin sat with his brother as he drove the carriage and read the story out loud:

“Arsehole,” Cecilia muttered.

Ignoring the sharp stinging of her backside, she hopped off the bed to find something to put on. All she needed to accomplish was getting back to her room, clothed. She knew there must have been some spare clothes in their dressers. It was just a matter of sorting through which garments were hers and which belonged to the others. She had been sorely mistaken to ignore the three members of nobility behind her, thinking they hadn’t heard her.

Lovell scrunched up his face, resembling a rat. “Is receiving another punishment something you really care for? Because this attitude you’ve acquired is going to earn you one.”

“Piss off.”

“Is that any way to talk to your dominants?” Madison asked, adjusting herself in Tommy’s arms.

Cecilia scoffed as she walked towards the door, placing one hand on the doorknob. “Lavender.”

The other three faces fell at the use of that forbidden word. Cecilia’s hand reached up ever so gently and wiped away tears. She wondered if the tears were for her former lovers or for finally realizing her mind was deluded to think she would be with anyone above her station such as Lovell.

“I don’t want this anymore.”

“Cecilia.”

“You never believe that I don’t enjoy breaking our established rules. You only listen to Madison.”

“Cecilia.”

“It is clear you both like her more than you desire me. I am down.”

“Cecilia.”

“You shall see me around this manor, doing my job as I always have. But that is the extent of our relationship.”

“Please, just give u—”

“Good day, Lord Parham. Lord Newall, Lady Wilcher.”

“Riveting,” Colin said as he finished reading. “Mr. Mercutio has done it again.”

Benedict nodded. “Indeed he has. I was a bit worried when he announced that he wanted to dabble in the themes of erotic pleasures in his stories but this was just as enjoyable as all the others.”

“Agree… Oh, it says here that they have earned a publishing deal. The penny stories will still come out once a week, chapter by chapter but readers can also purchase a book if they would like to keep the story properly or are in a rush to read it. I for one will be buying the books.”

“I second that.”

“I wonder what his next story will be about. Actually, no, I wonder what our dear sisters and mothers can be talking about.”

“The princess, no doubt.”

”Do you think any of our brothers will approach?” Eloise asked in the women’s carriage, more to herself than anything.

That made Hyacinth’s face light up. “If one of them marries the princess does that mean we get to be princesses too?”

“As if any of our brothers even could or want to.” Francesca pulled her face away from the window.

“If anyone is going to bring them to the marriage mart,” Daphne started as she fanned herself. “It would be the princess. Anthony would be a good match for her.”

Violet laughed, thinking of the idea. “A viscount and a princess are a perfect match.”

All talk of the princess stopped as they approached. The worst thing that could happen could be a footman overhearing them and mistaking their speech for malicious gossip rather than light-natured and report it to the princess or the queen or even worse, King George himself. They would forever be ostracized from society.

From upstairs, you watched from a window where you knew no one could see you even if they looked up. How you desperately wanted to be down there. All the men were dressed up and looking like penguins. Handsome they were but still penguin-like in silhouette. And the women’s dresses. Some, while upper class, were of a lower social standing and wore older dresses that looked just as gorgeous as the empire and rather shapeless dresses of today.

But today was not your day. You actually weren’t sure when your day would be. Your mother and father let their children choose when they would be introduced to society. Of course you all had to wait for a certain age and it had to be a date at the start of the social season but you could pick the day. And unlike your last sibling, you wanted it to be at a ball instead of the selection of the Diamonds. You didn’t even care which ball it would be. Perhaps it was selfish but you did want a day all to yourself or at least a day with you as the main focus. But that wasn’t this year. Or any year perhaps.

You were excited to finally leave the walls of the palace if you were allowed, having proven yourself capable of not causing an incident. Unfortunately, you couldn’t say you had proven yourself without illness. You weren’t that lucky. You and all your siblings were locked inside until the royal physicians could observe and confirm that you weren’t sick with whatever madness your father had. They didn’t have to observe you. That was also why you picked a ball instead of today. You wanted to prove you didn’t need a chaperone literally holding your elbow. You wanted freedom like your siblings. Freedom to explore that you weren’t sure would get because of your illness.

After a nearly fatal drowning in the lake — an event your siblings still get chewed out for at least once a month — you started showing symptoms like George did. For you it wasn’t about if you would be as sick like your father. It was about how bad and how quickly the illness would get.

You didn’t get to see George as often as the others. The doctors thought you shouldn’t be around him for prolonged periods of time unless it was after an episode. They thought that too much exposure would make you more like him instead of better. They wanted to send him to Kew but you promised that you wouldn’t go to his quarters as long as he got to stay at Buckingham.

Charlotte, silly as it may have been, had hope. They caught your sickness early. Nine was a very young age to almost go mad. Maybe you could be saved from a cruel fate unlike George. They were too late for him but not for you. Of course this only brought jealousy from your siblings who didn’t feel like they got as much affection anymore. Every time you even twitched, it became about you. They could never hate you. It wasn’t like you asked to be sick. But it was hard to be around you. Everyday visits became once a week. Still, you cherished those visits. Like the one yesterday. They expressed their sympathies and hopefulness that you would get to introduce yourself and maybe it could even be this year or maybe this month.

You could have scoffed. After what you did just two days ago, you were unsure. The daylight came into your room before you were prepared for it and you had been convinced that Buckingham was on fire. You couldn’t be calmed down until you jumped into the water fully clothed. Immediately, you pulled yourself out of the trance but no one really cared. The royal physician had been called anyway and you had ruined all chances of attending the presentation to the Queen.

“Your Highness!” a voice disturbed your thoughts and your eyes from looking at your siblings’ carriages leave in the morning. Your lady-in-waiting approached you with a paper, an entire pamphlet. “It’s already spread through the ton like a fire. We haven’t read it yet. We figured new literature would be a treat for you.”

“Thank you, Pandora. Shall we read it in the kitchens this morning when we return home?”

“Not your room?”

“I’m so terribly sick of my room and the washroom and the balcony and the bedroom.”

“You are getting restless.”

“It’s only a matter of time. Maybe even tomorrow it’ll happen. And soon it will only be a couple of years at most before the mask is gone. By the way,” you said as the two started to leave. “Did you hear about the Feather girl that fainted? Is she alright?”

“Oh yes, she’s fine.”

“Good. Have someone send flowers to her tomorrow with an inquiry about her wellbeing after taking such a tumble. Oh and no flowers to the Diamond. I want to meet her myself one day. Now, let’s read about this… Lady Whistledown. She already sounds like an interesting woman.”

Interesting it was indeed. The maids and kitchen staff hung onto your every word as you read the pamphlet. You weren’t exactly sure how you felt about the pamphlet yet but Pandora was right about one thing. It was literature. Lady Whistledown seemed bold enough to list subjects by name. By their entire name as if she wasn’t afraid of any repercussions. You supposed she wouldn’t be since Whistledown was obviously not her real name.

It wasn’t the subject of what she published that bothered you. A lot of it was standard gossip that goes around during the social season but it was her personal opinion. She almost seemed to want the ladies she wrote about to have miserable ends like inquiring about Daphne Bridergton’s flame burning out quickly. The lady must know that what she published could ruin a reputation. Gossip is no longer gossip when publicly written down. It has the potential to become fact.

You slapped the pamphlet against your hand. “Well, I suppose Mercutio Quick from York will no longer be the entertainment of the ton. Sad, and right as I earned a publishing deal too. Perhaps, I should take up a different art. Like making dresses for all my days or learning to play the harp and cello properly so it sounds better than a dying whale according to my brothers.”

The cook shook his head. “Your stories are very entertaining. Even Lady Whistledown couldn’t stop that.”

“Thank you for saying that. I am rather jealous that she is penning under a woman.”

“But you have chosen a name based on your favorite characters, have you not?”

“I have but maybe I should’ve chosen better. This Lady Whistledown might be making more change for women then I hope to accomplish.”

At this, the staff scoffed. Pandora cleaned up your dishes from the kitchen island in front of you.

“Your Highness, with the utmost respect, you are the one who is going to do more for women than this Whistledown. Everybody already wants someone other than your kind brother on the throne. They’re all praying your niece gives them any child so they may protest for her with the added benefit of an heir. They love her and what you write about in your letters make her seem even better. Hell, they love you and they don’t even know you. They listen to you. And with your words, Princess Charlotte the Younger will be on the throne and you will prove women are more than capable of whatever and we might have real change. Is she still on board?”

“Yes. She hates her father as much as anyone else does. George is nice once you get to know him… sort of. But Lettie approves as long as I agree to be in her court. I said yes of course.”

“Then it is settled. Thank God we might actually get change in our wretched lives. Now you must wash up and oversee the Bridgerton gowns before they are sent off. Shall we pick certain ones from your wardrobe?”

“Give the Diamond the one with lace and her family’s colors. Pick whatever you want for the rest of them. Oh and patterns must be on the Feather mother’s dress. I noticed she wears the most ill-favored ornamented dresses but she seems to like them. And put in an order with the modiste, I should like to do this often if this first gesture goes well and the gift wardrobe will need more clothes than it has at present. Clothes for the lower classes as well, nothing that could get them attacked and the clothes stolen off their bodies.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

“And, by the way, I already washed up.”

“Yes, but now you’ve been sitting amongst smoke and smells.”

You gave up your fight and nodded as you jumped down from your stool and began the walk to your room. No one was around today. They wouldn’t be for most of the social season as they had other duties, including watching your siblings. Despite your madness, you weren’t the biggest concern at all. It was your rakish brothers in brothels, your sisters constantly leaving their husbands or suitors, and all of them sneaking away. You paused for a moment before walking quicker until you reached your room.

Why couldn’t you sneak out? Now would be the perfect opportunity. And no one was looking for you. It would be so easy to scale the vines up the garden wall and just have fun for a moment. You washed up quickly and put on a very simple dress — one more like the style of today rather than your father’s time. Grabbing a cloak and your mask, you put them down on the bed before sitting down at your writing desk to pen a letter. The slam of the door nearly made you jump out of your skin. You calmed as you realized it was just Pandora.

“Oh, good. It is just you.”

“I have the Bridgerton and Featherington dresses but what do you mean it is just me, Y/N?”

You stood up, abandoning the letter now that someone was around. “I am going out to see the ton.”

“What?”

“It is still dark. I have a map, my cloak, and the mask. And I have a very clear destination with vehicles that will get me back in the most discreet of ways should I need to use them.”

“Your Highness.”

“Pandora. I am nearing my introduction to society. You will all have to let me go at some point. I know everyone cares for my wellbeing but my happiness is gone. I am seen as nothing but my illness. Before I have an episode in public like the king, let me meet the ton. Let me not be Farmer Y/N for a brief moment of my life before I am a farmer forever, before I stay in that garden just like Father.”

Pandora’s mouth shut. She simply locked the door and unlocked the window. “You must return before your midmorning promenade and snack. Since you ate downstairs, I can convince them to overlook your absence of a breakfast request. And don’t take your mask. It’s better if they don’t know who you are at all.”

She gasped as you hugged her.

“Thank you, Pandora! Thank you! You are truly the bestest friend a woman could have.”

“Just go so you can come back quickly and I can have my sanity back.”

You closed the window, shocking Pandora as you pulled a picture frame off the wall to reveal a staircase that led outside. The door was hidden behind the trellis covered in vines and flowers. You pulled the hood over the cloak over you. The last thing you did was check for your bracelet and if your papers were inside. Until you were introduced to society, all the royal children had bracelets that couldn’t come off unless cut off. There were just in case measures with the eldest two but became necessary after so many nights sneaking out. The bracelet wasn’t going anywhere but you didn’t want to lose your birth certificate. It was your first safety measure. Even if you were kidnapped or harmed, you’d be returned to the palace for a pretty penny. You did pull your sleeves down so your bracelet wouldn’t be noticed.

You couldn’t contain your smile at the excitement of being out. London was so different without all the noise. The brothels and pubs were starting to close down for their few hours of rest and relaxation. You stuck to streets where you could see all the action but wouldn’t be easily spotted. No one bothered you until you arrived at your destination.

The footman stood to attention. “May I help you?”

“Yes, hello. I bring a package from Buckingham House for the Bridgertons, courtesy of Princess Y/N.” You handed him a letter with your official stamp at the end of it.

The footman’s eyes went wide as he handed you back the letter and ran inside. The Bridgertons looked up at the frantic knocking, pulling slips over Hyacinth and Daphne before telling the footman he could enter. The Bridgerton boys came upstairs after hearing the heavy pounding of their employee’s footsteps running up the multiple stairs.

“Is there a problem, Marshall?”

He panted before taking in a deep breath. “The Young Princess’ lady-in-waiting is here, bearing gifts.”

“WHAT?!”

The Bridgertons collectively yelled before the scramble happened. You tilted your head when you saw the windows open and a maid shake out some bedsheets. She squeaked when she looked down to see you. You laughed as she ran back inside. It couldn’t have been more than five minutes before you were escorted into the house by a very out of breath footman. The Bridgertons stood on the steps at the end of their entrance hall in chronological order with their mother starting the line at the very bottom step. Nervous smiles graced their faces when you finally reached them. You curtsied to which they curtsied or bowed back.

You gave them a second to assess you before speaking. Even though it wasn’t true in the slightest, everyone thought the ladies-in-waiting and manservants were reflections of the royals themselves. Not in character or value but in appearance. They figured they could form some sort of picture as to what the young masked royals looked like. If you were ugly then surely the princess was too. You hoped they at least found you to be average looking in appearance.

Anthony Bridgerton — the new head of house from what you remembered of your studies — stepped from behind his mother to greet you formally. He bowed once again, deeper, before offering up his hand. You settled yours in it to receive a chaste kiss.

“To what do we owe this sudden pleasure, Mrs…”

“Beckett,” you lied, just using Pandora’s last name.

“Mrs. Beckett?” He didn’t recognize the name as one belonging to an upper class member of the ton. He wasn’t sure he recognized the name at all.

“Apologies, I should explain. The princess doesn’t distinguish in her court, we are all there to work. All women are ladies-in-waitings, all men are valets. Regardless of station, regardless of marriage.”

“So, I am to take it that my earlier statement was incorrect.”

You nodded. “Simply Miss Beckett.”

“Well that sounds like very forward thinking actually. All the same, it is our pleasure to meet anyone in her highness’ court.”

Violet smiled as she watched the interaction. If her son was close to anyone in the princess’ court, especially someone that seemed so close to the princess as to be sent here, then he would be able to meet the princess with good graces. He’d be ahead of any man by leagues.

“Princess Y/N has sent me on her behalf. She extends warm greetings to the Bridgertons and the Featheringtons whom I will meet after our encounter. The princess congratulates Miss Daphne Bridgerton for earning Diamond of the Season as well as congratulations to the Dowager Viscountess for raising such a fine woman and to Viscount Bridgerton for chaperoning and keeping the family together therefore allowing his sister to shine.”

He cleared his throat and started to smile. “Please give the princess all of our thanks for the most kind of compliments.”

“And she would like to assure Miss Bridgerton that I have not been sent on behalf of any princes. Her brothers will not be bothering you today.”

They all chuckled when you laughed.

You set the first box down on the table next to you and opened it. “The princess has brought new dresses for the ball. The Diamond and the rest of her family should have the opportunity to shine with the utmost and wholehearted respect and support of the Crown. Please, enjoy them.”

The family ran to the table, picking out dresses and suits and matching them to the person’s name on the paper pinned to each garment. They kept singing praises and admiring the outfits. Violet turned back to you.

“When are you planning on visiting the Featheringtons?”

“In an hour or so, I must be back before the princess’ morning promenade. She has a very busy day afterwards.”

“Will the princess be introducing herself this season?”

“Hyacinth!” Anthony and Violet yelled at the same time.

You laughed. “It is no trouble. I’m at liberty to answer as the princess’ head valet.”

“Valet? I thought you said they were all men. They are usually all men.”

“If the princess should become heir to the throne then she will receive a male valet alongside me. For now, it is just me. The Crown believes someone of the same gender should always be with her should she need to confide in someone about very personal matters.” You took a breath before testing the waters. “Such as affections of the heart.”

It had dawned on you in that moment that you could spy on the ton. When the time came, you would still have to dance with all the bachelors of the United Kingdom but you at least you would have a better picture of them. You’d have to apologize to Pandora for the countless strokes she was about to earn from you but you couldn’t make this your only time sneaking out.

Violet smiled, knowing she was right. “Well, would you like to stay for breakfast?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t want to impose.”

“It would be no trouble at all. We have more than enough room. Eloise, dear, if Penelope is to come over please request that she do so now.”

(part 2)

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peachsukii · 3 months ago

Text

✮ content. little thoughts related to this post. fem!reader. mentions of mental health struggles & blood/wound care. reader is a little mean to herself. angst w/ comfort + fluff. softie bakugo.

Lost in the nothingness inside your head, you don’t have time to react when the cup slips from your hands, crashing into the sink with a loud crack. It was an accident, but you can’t help thinking that the universe is out to get you, and somehow, that you deserved it. Your favorite mug laid in ceramic slices, shattered under the running water of the kitchen sink.

“The hell was that?” Bakugo calls from the living room while making his way to the kitchen. “Did ya—”

He stops, the look on your face sending a chill through him as you stared into the sink basin, eyes unfocused and hazy. Carefully, he approaches you and turns off the water.

“Sweets, you’re bleeding,” Bakugo says hurriedly, a hand coming to take the shard from your grasp. When did you even pick that up?

“Lemme clean you up, yeah?” It’s phrased as a question, but Bakugo won’t take no for an answer — it’s not in his vocabulary. He runs into the bathroom and back to the kitchen in the blink of an eye, first aid kit in hand. The tin bangs against the counter as he throws it open. He lets out a breath before taking your hand to examine it further.

“Doesn’t look like anythin’ is stuck in the cut. Here,” Bakugo pauses to turn the faucet on and pushes your hand under the icy stream of water. “S’gonna sting, but cold water helps numb it.”

“Might make me feel something,” you mumble monotonously. “Other than stupid for dropping the damn thing.”

“Hey.” Bakugo orders sternly, fingers instantly finding your chin to turn your gaze toward him. “None’a that. Shit happens, you didn’t break it on purpose.”

You roll your eyes at him when he lets go, unintentionally getting snippy at his words. “Sure, I’m constantly terrible at everything because shit happens. Can’t be that I’m a failure of a hero, or at everything lately.”

“Stop.” Bakugo’s hands tremble as he rummages through the first aid kit to find what he needs. He hates seeing you spiral, loathes hearing you talk so poorly about yourself during these episodes. “S’not your fa—”

“But it is my fault!” You don’t mean to interrupt him, but your emotions are getting the best of you in the moment, the pain begging to be released at any cost. “All this misery and pain is exhausting. I should’ve let the villains take—”

Bakugo unexpectedly slams the first aid kit closed and shuts you up instantly. You’re speechless, the sudden outburst shaking you out of your self pity party and shifting into concern for him.

“…Katsuki?” You ask sheepishly, knowing full well your words cut him deeper than any knife could.

“Please…stop.” He turns his back to you, a hand coming to his face to pinch the bridge of his nose. The air is heavy, the only noise being the water trickling over your wound. All he wanted to do was take care of you, fix your physical wounds in order to help heal your emotional ones. "Not sayin' ya can't be upset, just...don't say shit like that."

He’s right, you know he’s right.

“I didn’t mean it.”

“I know.” Bakugo turns back toward you, brushing his fingers over your cheek. “Don’t wanna think about you not bein’ here is all.”

Before you can stop yourself, the question spills over your lips. “But Katsuki, why are you here?”

He hesitates for a few seconds, cycling past the urge to spit back something sarcastic or harsh to such a stupid question. You think for a moment that he’s considering leaving without a word, the hurt in his eyes evident from your negative attitude.

“Do I need a reason?” He tilts his head before lowering his eyes back to your hand, gently taking it in his and flipping your palm toward him, dabbing the excess water away from the open cut. “Y’know if I didn’t wanna be somewhere that I wouldn’t bother.”

“Yeah, but—”

He holds his free hand up to interrupt you. “M’here ‘cause I happen to love your ass and don’t like seein’ ya down. I won’t leave ya when you’re strugglin’, what kind of hero would I be then?”

You don’t mean to, but scoff at the mention of being a hero. “Always gotta be the hero.”

Bakugo stops to take a deep breath before invading your space, dropping the cloth from his hand and encasing you in a hug, his dry hand pushing your cheek against his chest. “Listen, sweetheart. Fight me all ya want, but as long as my heart is beating, m’gonna be here to take care of you. Sunshine or rainstorms, good and bad times. We figure it out together. I’ll keep drillin’ it into your head until you believe me, no matter how long it takes.”

There’s no point in arguing any further or being stubborn, Bakugo always knew how to win that race. A graceful surrender is your best option. He lets out a dry huff of victory at your silence, a tiny grin plastered on his face when he pulls away from you to return to the first aid kit.

“Now lemme wrap up your damn hand before you bleed all over my kitchen, then I’ll take ya to get a new mug. Deal?”

Your lips curl into a half-smile, suddenly feeling a little lighter than earlier, even if it’s just for a moment. “Deal.”

#bakugo x reader #bakugou x reader #soft bakugou #mha x reader #bnha x reader #☆.rei daydreams #☆.bkg dreamscapes

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tossawary · 21 days ago

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I reread "Check, Please!" this afternoon. One of my favorite moments (SPOILERS) is the aftermath of Jack and Bitty's on-ice kiss on live television, when Jack is talking to his parents about the public reveal that's just happened. They're like, "Oh??? That's a big step isn't it???" And Jack is so smiling high on cup victory and love that he's like, "Yeah. Who cares, though?" And Jack's parents look like they're bluescreening, he just fucking broke them, because what happened??? To their anxious child who had a mental breakdown and overdose??? He's all relaxed and happy and chill now! Wow.

And there's obviously a lot of things contributing to this character development / mental health stability for Jack. He's older. He's been through both college and rehab. He's got a lot of support in good friends, a great boyfriend, loving parents, friendly teammates, and a supportive employer. This is a happy choice that he made on his own terms. And so on and so forth.

But on a more humorous note, I also think part of this newfound chillness must come from the fact that his good, supportive friends are all loud and proud weirdos. Shitty Knight does something wild every 24 hours, possibly on purpose but also possibly a genuine fuckup, that would have had Jack curling up under a rock out of embarrassment for life, then Shitty just walks it off. No big deal, brah. And if it's not Shitty, then Lardo or Ransom or Holster have got Jack's back in terms of nonstop sheer hot, shameless mess and friendship. It puts a lot of things into context.

Freshman Shitty: "Heeeey, man, my new best friend, nice to meet you, thanks for getting me off that roof and also lending me your jacket! Not that I've got anything to be ashamed of, nudity is our natural state of being, but, y'know, don't super want to start the first day off getting arrested for streaking while trying to get to my Gender Studies class on time. Uncomfortable and uncool. Want to get brunch? My breakfast was half of a cheap beer and a packet of sour gummy worms, which while delish, my man, does not do good things to my stomach or my brain health when I'm trying to do the good thinking stuff. Speaking of, dude, excuse me a mo', I think I need to puke into this trash can here. Don't want to litter or anything."

Freshman Jack, holding Shitty's backpack while this stranger pukes politely into a campus trash can: (internally) "I think this is curing my anxiety somehow."

#it's like watching dropout's “dirty laundry” show; what the hell could I ever do to compete with this nonsense #tossawary omgcp #jack zimmermann #shitty knight #spoilers

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thef1diary · 8 months ago

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While It Lasts | L. Norris - 1

Summary: Lando expected nothing more than relaxation and fun for two weeks during his summer break. What he didn’t anticipate was meeting you, someone who felt like a perfect match in every way. As the days quickly passed, he found himself falling deeply for you, only to be confronted with the heart-wrenching reality that your time together was far more limited than he ever imagined.

Part 2

PLEASE READ: This story contains themes of loss, morality, fear, death, relationship strains, mental health struggles, including significant emotional impact related to the reader’s journey with a chronic illness and some scenes are set in hospitals. Reminder that this is simply a work of fiction, please don’t take it to heart.

a hugeee thank you to @chilling-seavey @thefourthln @faithshouseofchaos for proofreading this and constantly reassuring me that this isn’t shit 😭 I wouldn’t have posted this fic without your support 🫶🏻

pairing: lando x fem!reader

wc: 15.9k (because tumblr won't let me post the whole thing at once)

“C’mon, you’re gonna love it there,” Lando attempted to persuade his best friend.

Max Fewtrell rolled his eyes, asking incredulously, “mate, are you seriously considering taking us to a small town over partying all day, everyday in the city?”

Lando shrugged, holding his finger up for a moment, asking him to wait while he scrolled through his phone to find the photos that Carlos sent him earlier. “It’s not just a small town, look at this.” He turned the phone around to show his best friend the photos of their potential home for the next two weeks.

Max scoffed, still not believing that Lando was changing their pre-made plans at the last minute, “and why would Carlos just give you the keys to that villa looking thing?”

“It’s his uncle’s vacation home, and it’ll be empty if we don’t go. You don’t want to leave this beauty empty, do you?”

Max sighed, rolling his eyes at his best friend’s antics. As soon as he saw the photos, he was convinced to discard the previous plans and take the opportunity to live in that home, but of course he wouldn’t admit it straightaway.

“Show me the photos again,” he simply muttered, earning a laugh from Lando as he swiped through the pictures.

“There’s literally only one other house nearby, we won’t get that in the city now, would we?” Lando commented, watching the cogs turning in Max’s mind.

Despite Max's initial reluctance, Lando could see the spark of curiosity flickering in his friend's eyes as he examined the photos. He knew he was close to winning Max over.

"So, what do you say, Max? Are you in?" Lando pressed, a hopeful tone in his voice.

Max hesitated for a moment, weighing his options before finally letting out a resigned sigh. "Alright, fine, you win. Let's give this small town adventure a shot," he conceded, unable to resist the allure of the stunning villa.

Lando grinned triumphantly. "Trust me, mate, you won't regret it," he assured him, clapping him on the back.

“Yeah, yeah, we’ll see about that. When are we leaving?” He asked instead, still not wanting to get his hopes up in case he would be left disappointed.

“Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” Max asked, eyes widening when Lando nodded.

“Go pack your bags, mate,” Lando shoved him with full force once he noticed Max wasn’t leaving the room.

He laughed when Max finally regained his sense of motion and scrambled out the room, muttering to himself while packing everything he thought he needed for the next two weeks. Despite having a habit of travelling, it wasn’t any less stressful to pack, especially with a short notice.

Lando sighed and leaned back into his chair, holding up his phone in front of him. He admired the picturesque view of the villa in the photos, containing his excitement because he would be able to see the same view in person soon enough.

Perhaps this was what he needed, especially after the stress that continued to build up over the first half of the season. While he had a better start to the season than he was used to, it didn’t ease any pressure. He was constantly thinking about what he can do as a driver to improve the car while having to face the media at every race weekend and answering the same question over and over again. It was too much for him to handle.

It was part of the reason why he was adamant on convincing Max to take a break in a place where they wouldn’t be seen as much as they usually do in Monaco. It would give him a chance of exploring a new town while also staying under the radar.

When Carlos first suggested the idea, Lando instantly agreed. The promise of two weeks of relaxation and exploration ahead sounded like a dream to him. Lando couldn't wait to leave the pressures of the racing world behind and immerse himself in the beauty of the coastal town. Little did he know, amidst the winding streets and sun-kissed beaches, he would find more than just a temporary escape.

—

As the taxi pulled up to the gates, the driver turned to them with a grin. "Here we are, gentlemen. Enjoy your stay," he announced, gesturing towards the grand entrance of the villa.

Max and Lando exchanged glances, eager to explore the town. They thanked the driver before stepping out of the taxi, and their eyes widened in awe at the sight of their temporary abode. The grand villa stood just up ahead of them, its white walls gleaming in the golden light of the setting sun. The only barrier slightly obstructing their view were the large steel gates, shut to prevent any trespassers.

"Whoa!" Max exclaimed, his voice filled with excitement.

Lando nodded in agreement, already reaching for his phone to capture the moment. "This place is insane," he remarked, snapping a quick selfie, giving a cheesy smile while holding up his thumb with the villa in the background.

Max chuckled, watching as Lando posed for the photo. "Gonna send that to Carlos?" he asked, a grin spreading across his face.

Lando nodded, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. "Yep, just to make him jealous," he replied, tapping away at his phone before sending the selfie to Carlos with a playful message: ‘You’re missing out!’

“Where’s he anyways?” Max asked but his gaze never left the sight in front of him.

Lando’s thumbs moved across the screen as he typed out another message, possibly replying to Carlos who always texted back within minutes.

Moments later, he turned the phone to show the screen to Max. Carlos had responded to Lando’s selfie with one of his own, showing off the view he was enjoying in the background. A pair of blue goggles covered his eyes and he held his thumb up in a playful manner as well. It was evident that he was standing on a yacht, surrounded by a form of nature in its entirety.

“Guess he’s not exactly missing out. When is he not on a boat?” Max asked jokingly.

Lando shrugged, “when he’s not cycling I guess.”

When he turned the screen back towards him, he noticed another text from Carlos. ‘Don’t break anything’

He scoffed, shaking his head before pocketing his phone, ignoring his message. He was mature enough to know that, even if a few broken trophies claimed otherwise.

The taxi drove off, leaving the men standing with their luggages in front of the gate. The breeze passed through Lando’s curls, causing him to turn around and squint his eyes to look up at the leaves on the trees swaying around. The setting sun pierced his eyes, but his gaze didn’t waver from it, a smile growing on his face since he already began liking the peaceful environment.

“Mate,” Max’s voice broke the silence. When Lando looked at him expectantly, he gestured towards the gates. “Are we just here to look at it from outside or do you know the code to get in?”

Lando’s eyes widened, “oh yeah, Carlos told me the code, hold on.” He fumbled for his phone, quickly locating the message from Carlos with the access code.

Before he could punch in the code, the sound of a car door slamming loudly took their attention away from the villa.

Max and Lando simultaneously spotted another home further down the street across from theirs, the only one apart from the villa for miles. It stood in stark contrast, a quaint cottage nestled amidst a grove of cherry blossom trees. It looked smaller, but they knew not to be fooled, knowing the cottage only appeared smaller since it was further away.

"Looks like we've got neighbors," Lando remarked, pointing towards the distant cottage.

“So much for silence,” Max mumbled.

As soon as Max’s words were spoken out loud, their attention shifted to the cause of the sound; you.

Unlike Lando and Max, your day hadn’t been going well. Actually, you don’t believe that you’ve experienced a single good day in the past couple years; not since the day you received your reports.

You remember that day vividly, the memories playing out in your mind like a horror movie. Despite many efforts from your close friends and family to cheer you up, you don’t believe that any smile you’ve given was genuine. Not a single one.

You shut your eyes tightly, but it only intensified the memories, causing you to find a way to shift your attention. Your gaze was attracted to the sun that was moments away from slipping underneath the horizon.

Contrasting to Lando’s thoughts from earlier, who smiled at the sunset because watching it cemented the fact that he was away from the chaos in cities and his world of racing, you thought of the guarantee that the sun will rise again tomorrow, one certainty you never had about yourself.

Once you slammed the car door shut, a surge of frustration and anger coursed through you, making your brother, Isaac, who was also getting out of the car, wince in discomfort. It was his car, after all, and you knew you shouldn't take your frustrations out on one of his most prized possessions, but the weight of your own mortality pressed down on you like a suffocating blanket.

Another visit to the hospital had left you feeling drained and defeated, the latest round of test results delivering yet another blow to your already fragile health. The doctors' words echoed in your mind, their somber tones a stark reminder of the grim reality you faced.

You were angry – angry at the world for dealing you such a terrible fate, angry at your own body for betraying you, angry at the uncertainty that loomed over your future like a dark cloud. Would you live another day, another year, or was each moment you spent on this earth merely borrowed time?

Your hands trembled with a mixture of fear and frustration as you struggled to make sense of it all. You’ve been in this situation multiple times over the past couple years, wondering why the doctors always gave you a false sense of hope until the facts proved otherwise, but every time still felt like the first. Your illness was something you could never wrap your head around. The questions swirled in your mind, unanswered and unanswerable, leaving you feeling helpless and alone.

As you leaned against the car, your breath coming in ragged gasps, you felt a sense of despair wash over you. The world seemed cruel and indifferent, its vastness stretching out before you like an endless void.

Despite looking at the sun until it made your eyes water, or perhaps those were just your tears caused by your anger turning into sadness, your mind was still filled with all sorts of thoughts while your heart held various emotions.

The one thing that did divert your mind was the sound of rackety steel gates opening further down the street. Those gates hadn’t been open in about a year, making it in desperate need of oil on the hinges.

You remembered the family that visited very often once upon a time—the Sainz family—but those visits became less and less frequent as the years went by.

However, once you heard laughter echoing down the street, you couldn’t place a name to the sound. You squinted your eyes to focus on the scene since you had forgotten your glasses inside your home. Your eyesight was one of the first things that started deteriorating, making it hard to believe that you once had perfect vision.

You could make out the shape of two men, seemingly young and nowhere near a part of the family that owned the villa.

With a heavy heart, you turned away from the villa, knowing it was time to spend a quiet night in. The sun had long gone beneath the horizon, turning the orange skies into hues of blue as you made your way towards your small cottage.

Inside, the air was heavy with the scent of stale coffee from the early morning hours before you rushed to the hospital. The unmistakable scent of antiseptics mixed with coffee, a reminder that your home was slowly becoming similar to the emergency rooms.

Your brother hovered nearby, his expression etched with concern as he watched you sink into a worn armchair. He had moved in once your health didn’t show any signs of improvement, taking on the older brother role even if he was a few years younger.

"Are you okay?" Isaac asked, his voice filled with worry.

You nodded, forcing a weak smile as you tried to push aside the weight of your own fears. "I'm fine," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

But deep down, you knew the truth. You were anything but fine. The uncertainty of your future loomed over you like a dark cloud, threatening to consume you whole.

“Do you need anything before I make dinner?” He stood in front of you, fidgeting with his hands.

The mention of dinner made you look up at him, shifting in the armchair as you prepared to stand up. His hands instantly shot out in case you stumbled over your feet.

“Let me help you make dinner,” you spoke, placing your hand on his shoulder to stabilize yourself.

He began shaking his head but your eyes pleaded with him.

“Please, I’m not completely useless yet,” You added, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to deny you since it was a trick you used when you were both younger.

He sighed, wanting to tell you that you weren’t useless at all, but it would open another can of worms. “Don’t push yourself too hard,” he settled instead.

You firmly nodded, and threaded your arm around his as he led you to the kitchen. He knew that he shouldn’t have let you help, especially after an appointment, but he also knew that if he left you alone, your thoughts would drown you.

All you needed was company, and he was more than willing to do anything to help you especially since he felt helpless otherwise.

The rhythmic chopping of vegetables filled the air as you and Isaac worked together in the kitchen. He hovered nearby, his presence a silent reassurance that you were not alone in your struggle.

"Need any help with that?" he asked, gesturing towards the cutting board where you were slicing tomatoes with unsteady hands.

You shook your head, trying to hide the tremor in your voice. "I've got it, thanks."

But he could see through your facade, his eyes filled with concern as he watched you work. "Are you sure? You seem a bit off today."

He had made it his responsibility to take you to your appointments, and he noticed that your mood deflated even more than the last visit.

You forced a smile, hoping to alleviate his worries. "I'm fine, just tired from the hospital visit."

He didn't look convinced, but he didn't press further. Instead, he moved closer, offering a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "Well, let me know if you need anything. I'm here for you, okay?"

You nodded, grateful for his support. "Thanks, I appreciate it."

As you continued to cook together, the tension in the air eased, replaced by the familiar rhythm of sibling banter and shared laughter.

“Oh, did you see our new neighbours?” You asked once you sat down to eat.

Your brother nodded, a muffled sound leaving his mouth since he was in the midst of chewing.

Your face twisted in disgust, “ew, eat your food, don’t show it.” He playfully smacked your arm before swallowing and you had to hide the wince that almost overtook your expressions. You rubbed your arm once he was distracted, already knowing that it’ll bruise even if the smack was light.

“As I was saying,” he glared at you for a brief moment before continuing, “I noticed them coming in.”

“How long do you think they’re gonna stay?”

He added, making you shrug, “no idea, a couple weeks?”

Meanwhile, down the street, Max and Lando were immediately struck by the grandeur inside the villa. They had already explored the surroundings outside while the sun was setting, and were greeted by a scene of serene beauty and tranquility.

The sprawling grounds stretched out before them, bathed in the soft glow of the setting sun. Lush greenery enveloped the landscape, with meticulously landscaped gardens and manicured lawns spreading out in all directions.

Tall palm trees swayed gently in the breeze, their fronds rustling softly as if whispering secrets to the wind. Vibrant bursts of color from exotic flowers and fragrant blossoms added splashes of brightness to the landscape, while the sweet scent of blooming jasmine and lavender hung in the air.

A cobblestone pathway wound its way through the gardens, meandering past secluded alcoves and hidden nooks waiting to be explored. Stone benches and wrought iron chairs provided inviting spots to sit and enjoy the beauty of nature, while the soothing sound of a trickling fountain added a sense of serenity to the atmosphere.

In the distance, the shimmering surface of a swimming pool caught the last rays of sunlight, beckoning with promises of cool refreshment on a warm summer's day. Beyond the pool, a charming gazebo nestled amidst a grove of trees offered a secluded retreat, its elegant structure inviting relaxation and contemplation.

Inside the villa, Max and Lando found themselves immersed in a world of luxury and refinement. Marble floors gleamed underfoot, their polished surfaces reflecting the soft glow of crystal chandeliers that hung from the ceiling. The air was infused with the scent of subtle hints of vanilla and sandalwood, creating an atmosphere of opulence.

Plush furnishings adorned with rich fabrics and intricate patterns beckoned invitingly, promising comfort and relaxation. Oversized sofas and armchairs offered sumptuous seating, their cushions plump and inviting, while ornate coffee tables and sideboards showcased exquisite craftsmanship and timeless elegance.

Large windows framed breathtaking views of the surrounding countryside, their sheer curtains billowing gently in the breeze. Soft, ambient lighting cast warm pools of light in every corner, creating a sense of coziness and intimacy that enveloped the space.

Throughout the villa, works of art adorned the walls, adding a touch of sophistication and culture to the elegant surroundings. Paintings and sculptures, each one a masterpiece in its own right, spoke of a life of privilege and refinement, while delicate vases filled with fresh flowers added a touch of natural beauty to the lavish interiors.

In every room, from the grand foyer to the luxurious bedrooms and bathrooms, attention to detail was evident at every turn. From the intricate carvings on the furniture to the delicate lace trim on the curtains, no expense had been spared in creating a sanctuary of unparalleled beauty and comfort.

As Max and Lando explored the villa, they couldn't help but feel a sense of wonder and awe at the sheer magnificence of their surroundings. For a moment, they forgot about the outside world, lost in the splendor of their temporary home and the promise of adventure that lay ahead.

While Max’s gaze wandered around in amazement, Lando nudged him with a mischievous smile of his own. “Told ya it’ll be worth it.”

He rolled his eyes but still agreed, “yeah I guess it is.”

Then, Max bursted into a sprint, running up the stairs while yelling loudly, “I get first pick!”

Lando shook his head, disagreeing immediately while chasing behind him. After all, they were two men who were kids at heart that were given a huge home all for themselves.

The next morning dawned bright and clear, filling the villa with a warm golden light that spilled through the windows and danced across the marble floors.

Lando had been awake for the past couple hours, his internal clock still set to his racing routine. He had woken up to the melody of birds chirping away and light filtering through the sheer curtains, basking for a moment in the change of scenery.

He had gone for a morning run, relishing the fresh air and serene beauty of the surroundings. On the way back, he picked up some pastries from a local bakery, their aroma enticing and warm.

Returning to the villa, Lando hummed a tune as he walked towards the kitchen. He paused for a moment, his eyes widening at the amount of natural light coming in through the big windows. The morning sun added a fresh, beautiful touch to the villa, reflecting off the furniture and transforming the space.

As he placed the pastries on the kitchen counter, Max emerged from his room, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, taking in the sight of the sun-drenched villa. “Morning, mate,” he greeted, his voice still laced with traces of sleep.

“Morning, Max,” Lando replied, holding back a chuckle at his messy morning hair.

He was lured by the aroma of freshly brewed coffee, mingling with the scent of freshly baked pastries.

“Mm, smells amazing but where did these come from?” He asked before popping a pastry in his mouth. His eyes closed as it melted in his mouth, savouring the taste for a moment.

Lando grinned, a hint of mischief dancing in his eyes. “Glad you like them, I picked them up on my morning run,” he admitted.

Max raised an eyebrow in surprise. “You went for a run?” he asked, his tone filled with amusement.

Lando nodded, taking a sip of his coffee. “Yeah, figured I’d explore the area a bit and see what’s around,” he explained.

The first thing Lando did when he laid in bed last night was bring out his phone to search for things to do in this small town. Unfortunately, the internet wasn’t much help, so he decided to take a look around by himself, and perhaps even ask a few locals for advice.

Then he ducked his head and rubbed his palm on the nape of his neck, “and Jon told me to keep training while we’re here.”

Max chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief. “Well, thanks for bringing back breakfast,” he added, reaching for another pastry.

Lando picked up one for himself. “Yeah, no problem, but don’t expect it everyday,” he said with a cheeky smile. Max rolled his eyes, ignoring his comment as he sipped on his coffee.

“What are you planning on doing today?” Max asked after a moment of silence.

“I saw this market on my run earlier, and was thinking of going to go check it out,” he hummed, thinking back to the beautiful scenery during his short cardio session.

Max laughed, “look at you, living the small town life already.”

Lando reached over to smack the pastry out of Max’s hand that he was about to eat. “Hey!” He exclaimed, looking at the fallen treat.

There was a beat of silence, before Max and Lando made eye contact and then they bursted out into giggles. Amidst their laughter, Max reached down to pick up the fallen pastry, dusting it off before stuffing it in his mouth.

“Five-second rule, mate,” he muffled.

“What are you gonna do?” Lando asked, ignoring his best friend’s antics.

He simply shrugged, “I don’t know, mate.”

“Wanna join me?” Lando suggested, earning a nod from Max, a teasing smile growing on his face.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

Lando rolled his eyes, “you don’t have to wait for me to ask.”

With their breakfast antics over, Lando and Max quickly finished their coffee before deciding to venture out into the town. As they stepped outside, the warm rays of the sun enveloped them, casting a golden glow over the quaint streets.

The scorching sun bore down upon them, turning the cobblestones into radiant paths of heat. Lando and Max, feeling the intensity of the sun’s rays, walked with beads of sweat forming on their brows.

Max shielded his eyes from the sun with a hand since he had misplaced his sunglasses.

Once they were a couple minutes into the walk, they realized that the market they planned to visit was further away than they initially thought. The narrow streets, lined with colourful houses and blooming flowers, stretched out before them, inviting them on a leisurely stroll.

“Why are we walking?” Max asked, still holding his hand up for a shade.

Lando raised his own sunglasses to the top of his head in disbelief, “why don’t you have your sunglasses?”

“Forgot ‘em at the villa,” he grumbled, which only made Lando laugh louder.

“Check your pockets, mate.”

Max’s eyes widened when he did in fact find his sunglasses in his pocket. He slid them onto his face with a sigh of relief, finally able to open his eyes properly.

Just as they began to feel the discomfort of the sweltering weather, a gentle breeze swept in from the nearby seaside, bringing with it a cool and invigorating relief. The breeze, infused with the scent of salt, tousled their hair and kissed their skin, providing a much needed respite from the heat.

After a few more minutes of walking, Max and Lando finally stumbled upon the market. It was nestled in a quaint square lined with vibrant stalls, each overflowing with a colourful array of fruits, vegetables, flowers, and artisanal crafts.

They wove their way through the crowded square, taking in the sights and the sounds of the market. The air was alive with the chatter of vendors and the laughter of shoppers, creating a lively atmosphere. The breeze was stronger as the market was closer to the seaside, blowing close to harsh wind in their faces, but it was welcomed due to the strong sun.

As they browsed the stalls, Max sampled a couple local delicacies first and Lando waited for his approval before trying them as well.

“Does it have fish?” Lando asked, hesitant in taking the sample from the vendor.

The vendor chuckled, “no, sir, it’s a dessert filled with cream, topped with hardened sugar.”

Lando’s mouth dropped open in understanding before taking the sample from him.

Max couldn’t resist picking up a few souvenirs to take home, like a proper tourist, while Lando struck up conversations with other locals, wanting to find out some details about the town.

As he held a couple bags of items he bought to remember this trip, Max’s eyes lit up when he spotted a bakery on the other side of the market.

“Hey, I’m going to check out the bakery over there,” Max pointed. “Grab a couple more treats,” he added.

Lando nodded, his attention drawn to a colourful display of ripe fruits nearby. “Sounds good, I’ll catch up with you in a bit.”

The two friends parted ways, Max was enticed by the scent of warm pastries waiting for him while Lando’s mouth watered at the sight of juicy fruits. His trainer had wanted him to stay healthy throughout the break anyways, and this was the perfect opportunity.

He greeted the vendor and began eyeing the various fruits; plump oranges, crisp apples, perfectly ripe bananas, and more.

“Good morning! What can I get for you today?” The vendor asked, and Lando thought for a moment before replying.

“I’ll take some of those oranges, grapes, and oh some apples too, please.”

The vendor nodded and began putting the fruits into the paper bags, but paused once he bagged both the grapes and oranges. “Forget these apples, get these ones instead,” they said while showcasing another tray of apples that looked very similar.

“It’s our premium organic apples, the best ones of the bunch.”

Lando hesitated for a moment, but the vendor’s persuasive tone convinced him that it was a steal.

To persuade Lando even further, the vendor added, “these ones are special, organic, freshly picked this morning. I’ll give you a good deal, just five dollars for one.”

Lando blinked in surprise at the price, wondering if a single apple was genuinely five dollars, but then again he never had to do any grocery shopping on his own. Jon would usually bring it for him, or do all the work if they went together.

Then he reasoned that it must be a rare variety or exceptionally fresh. “Alright, sounds good, give me a couple.”

Lando happily handed over the money, and thanked the vendor once they passed over the bags. He paused for a moment once he returned to the main street, inhaling the breeze, feeling the tension of his usual everyday life slowly melt away.

He spotted Max, noticing that he held even more bags than when he previously saw him. As Lando and Max regrouped near the bakery, the latter raved about the variety of treats he bought. “Mate! I think I bought everything.”

They scanned the bustling market once more, wondering if they should take another look or return to the villa. Max’s gaze wandered towards the seaside, where tranquil waves lapped against the shore.

“Hey, isn’t that our neighbour from the villa? The one who lives in the cottage?” Max asked, gaining Lando’s attention.

He followed Max’s gaze and spotted you sitting alone on a bench gazing out at the sparkling sea. Recognition dawned on Lando’s face as he remembered you from yesterday. “Yeah, it is, should I go say hi?”

Max considered it for a moment, glancing back at the path towards the villa before turning to Lando with a shrug. “Sure, why not? I’ll head back to the villa; catch up later yeah?”

Lando nodded, grateful for Max’s understanding. “Are you sure you’ll be fine with carrying all that?” He asked jokingly, gesturing at the bags he held.

“Shut up,” he muttered, nudging him with his shoulder.

Lando walked off with a chuckle, “see ya.”

His laughter died down as he approached you, noticing that your gaze was still fixed on the horizon as if you were searching for answers in the endless expanse of the sea. Perhaps you were, and he felt slightly guilty for approaching you, especially since you were far away from the rest of the crowd.

However, before he could abort the idea, you glanced to the side, looking at him with confusion replacing your previous expressions.

"Mind if I join you?" he asked, flashing a friendly smile as he stood there, pointing to the empty space next to you.

Your eyes clouded with a mixture of weariness and suspicion. "Suit yourself," you replied, your tone curt.

Undeterred by your guarded demeanor, Lando took a seat beside you, his curiosity piqued by the enigmatic stranger before him. "Beautiful day, isn't it?" he ventured, attempting to break the ice.

You scoffed, a bitter edge creeping into your voice. "I suppose," you muttered, your gaze returning to the horizon.

Sensing the walls you had erected around yourself, Lando decided to tread carefully, unwilling to push too hard too soon. He placed the bag of fruits on the grass before extending his hand in greeting. "I'm Lando," he introduced himself.

You hesitated for a moment before reluctantly accepting his handshake and introduced yourself, offering a tentative smile that failed to reach your eyes.

He repeated your name, wanting to become familiar with the way the vowels wrapped around his lips because he had a feeling that he would be saying your name a lot more often now.

Despite the initial awkwardness, Lando found himself drawn to you, intrigued by the mystery that shrouded your presence. He wondered why you were sitting here alone when there was a crowded market not too far away from here, but he didn’t have the strength to ask just yet.

He leaned against the bench, sighing as he watched the horizon just like you were. However, it became difficult to choose if the seaside view was prettier or you. He didn’t want you to think he was a creep, so he stole some glances at you every couple of moments without you knowing.

As you sat in companionable silence, the gentle sound of waves lapping against the shore provided a soothing backdrop, preventing the situation from feeling awkward.

“How long have you lived in this town?” Lando asked, but the moment he did, he thought that it was too intrusive.

He waited, one beat, two beats, before you responded. “I’ve lived here my whole life,” you admitted.

A small smile threatened to grace your lips as you thought of the happier memories you’ve spent here, the ones before the news that turned you into a shell of the person you were once.

“This town has always been home to me,” you added.

Lando’s eyebrows lifted in surprise. “Really? That’s amazing,” he exclaimed, genuine interest sparkling in his eyes. But then his brows furrowed, “have you never felt like leaving this place behind? Move somewhere in the city?”

You pressed your lips together in a tight smile, thinking of a response that wasn’t along the lines of I did want to leave. I had plans and dreams of studying abroad, living in the city, but fate had a different plan. Instead, you shrugged, “no, I’ve never thought about it before. I guess I like the community here, you know, everyone knows everyone.”

He chuckled, “that can’t be a good thing all the time though.”

You shook your head, “not always, news travels around pretty fast.” Feeling a tad bit intrigued by him, you asked, “so what made you come here?”

“The villa. It’s my friend’s family’s villa and he lent it out for a couple weeks,” he explained, causing you to widen your eyes. “Oh, so you’re my neighbour?”

He ducked his head and smiled sheepishly, “yeah, that’s, um, kind of why I approached you in the first place.”

As the conversation ebbed between you and Lando, a comfortable silence settled over the two of you, punctuated only by the rhythmic sounds of waves crashing against the shore.

After a while, Lando cleared his throat, breaking the silence. “Hey, I was wondering… since you’re a local and all, would you mind showing me and a friend around town?” he asked, a hopeful smile on his face.

When you didn’t answer right away, he continued explaining. “We’ve never been here before, and since we’re here for two weeks, I want to know every hidden gem and secret spot here, something less touristy.”

You could tell that he was beginning to become nervous, especially based on your expression which you assumed wasn’t kind. You forced a smile on your face, instinctively grazing his knee with your palm that wouldn’t stop bouncing up and down.

“Yeah, I’ll show you guys around,” you responded, and the warmth of your tone sent a ripple of excitement through Lando.

His smile widened, “thank you! I went by the market today but I feel like I should have someone giving me a little bit more direction on what to do here.”

“Oh you went to the market? Buy anything?” You asked, wanting to keep the conversation flowing as well, especially since you liked hearing him speak.

Lando gestured to the paper bag resting on the floor, “I got a couple fruits. Max, my friend, stocked up on the pastries from the bakery there. He already fell in love with them.”

You didn’t stop the smile growing on your face. “I totally get that, anything from that bakery is to die for.”

But then you glanced at the bag he held, and watching your gaze, he elaborated. “I got these organic apples, the vendor said they were giving me a pretty good deal, five dollars each.”

Your jaw dropped, “five dollars each? You totally got scammed.”

Lando’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Scammed? What do you mean?” he asked, his curiosity piqued.

“No one sells a single apple for $5, Lando, no matter how ‘organic’ they tell you it is,” you explain, but based on his expression, he still didn’t understand why.

Although his eyes did widen as he examined the contents. Now that he thought about it, the prices on the fruit seemed exorbitant, far beyond what he thought Jon paid.

“Everyone in this town bargains, especially in the market,” you added, and he frowned.

“I don’t need to bargain.”

You shook your head. “I’m sure you’re rich enough, but the point is that every vendor marks up the price because they know the locals bargain. The public is happy because they bargained, and the vendor is satisfied because the products still sell at a good price.”

He nodded in understanding, “oh, that’s weird, usually you just pay the price on the tag.”

“Well that’s the thing, there aren’t any tags, the vendors just set the prices, and they also mark it up if they know that you’re a tourist.”

His jaw dropped in surprise, “what? That’s not fair.”

“And that is why you need to know your way around here,” you added, earning a smile from him.

“That’s why you’re my tour guide.”

You looked at the horizon as his gaze felt too intense in that moment. He still looked at you, a soft smile on his face mixed with lingering curiosity about you and this town that seemed to draw him in instantly.

Just then, a familiar voice called out from behind you. “Hey, I’m all done, let’s go back home now?”

You turned to see Isaac standing with his hands full of produce he bought for dinner, but a curious expression on his face as he noticed Lando next to you.

“Um, yeah, did you get everything?” You ask as you stand up, and your brother immediately holds out his arm so you can loop your own with his.

“Yes ma’am, I bought everything on the list,” he said playfully.

Before he could lead you away, you patted his arm and glanced at Lando, “oh, this is Lando, our neighbour, at the villa.”

Your brother’s eyes flickered with recognition as he glanced at Lando. “Ah, yes, nice to meet you, I’m Isaac.”

The corner of Lando’s lip turned up briefly, before he nodded, “same here.”

The afternoon sun was shining, yet it was cooler than earlier, making the journey back towards your street easier. The market had an influx of visitors since many preferred to stay at home when the morning heat was ablaze.

Since the three of you were headed in the same direction, you decided to walk together. You walked side by side with your brother, your arm still looped with his. Lando had taken the liberty to carry a couple bags that Isaac held.

Lando walked a couple steps ahead, as if he was the local and you were the tourist. You didn’t mind it though, because his gaze confused you. Every time he looked at you, he was either close to figuring out your secrets or he was just blissfully unaware.

He was still a stranger, and you had no plans on telling him anything more than you had to.

As you walked, the lively chatter of the market gradually faded into the background, replaced by the soothing sounds of the occasional rustle of leaves in the gentle breeze.

Despite the tranquility of the moment, you couldn’t shake the feeling of unease that lingered in the back of your mind. Lando’s presence just a couple steps in front of you felt both comforting and disconcerting, his easy demeanour belaying the mystery that seemed to arise at times.

You thought back to your conversation at the bench, not finding anything concerning about the questions he asked or the responses to yours, but you couldn’t help but still feel on edge. Perhaps you wanted to trust him, but your mind didn’t allow it as easily as your heart willed you to.

Isaac couldn’t resist teasing you, nudging your side with his elbow and tilting his head towards Lando.

“So what’s the deal with you and the new neighbour, huh?” he whispered, keeping his voice down to prevent Lando from hearing him.

You rolled your eyes, playfully swatting at his arm. “Oh, please. There’s no deal, we just met today.”

Isaac raised an eyebrow, a knowing smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. “Uh-huh, sure. But I think you’ll be seeing him a lot more often now, don’t you think so?”

You nodded, “well he does live nearby, and he wants me to be a tour guide for him and his friend, Max, for the time they’re here.”

He chuckled, his grin widening. “That’s very convenient. But I think you’ve got an admirer.”

You scoffed, trying to brush off his teasing. “Don’t be ridiculous, he’s just being friendly.”

“Keep telling yourself that, we’ll see what happens in the next couple of days,” he stated as he draped an arm around your shoulder which only lasted a couple seconds before you pushed him away.

Since he wasn’t satisfied with just teasing you, he joined Lando’s side, instantly striking up a conversation. “So, Lando, enjoying your stay in our little town so far?”

He nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. “Definitely, it’s been a refreshing change of scenery.”

They continued on, speaking as if they knew each other for years.

As you neared the cottage, Lando handed Isaac the paper bags and bid you farewell. “Thanks for the company today, I’ll see you guys around.”

With a nod and a wave, you and Isaac made your way inside, leaving the events of the day behind you as you retreated into the sanctuary of your shared abode.

—

As the late morning sun filtered through the curtains, you stirred from your sleep, greeted by the familiar routine that marks the start of another day. The soft chirping of birds and faint chatter outside your window served as your alarm, nudging you gently into wakefulness.

You slid out of bed and padded over to the window, drawing back the curtains to reveal the tranquil scene outside. The small seaside town unfolded before you, bathed in the soft glow of morning light. It was a picturesque sight, one that you've grown accustomed to over the years.

With a sigh, you turned away from the window and began your morning routine. It's a well-worn pattern by now – first, you head to the bathroom to wash up and brush your teeth, the sound of running water a familiar soundtrack to your mornings.

Next comes the more clinical aspect of your routine. You reached for the small plastic organizer on the bathroom counter, filled with an assortment of medications neatly arranged in separate compartments. Your brother's voice echoed in your mind as you recalled his daily reminder to take your pills – a routine that has become as routine as brushing your teeth.

You dutifully pop each pill into your mouth, washing them down with a gulp of water. It's a mundane task, but one that is essential to your well-being. You've grown accustomed to the bitter taste of the medication, the lingering reminder of your illness that you can't escape.

Once the pills are swallowed, you move on to the next item on your checklist. Your brother's voice drifts in from the hallway, asking if you've taken your medication yet. You respond with a simple "yes," the words slipping easily from your lips.

As you go about your morning routine, there's a sense of detachment that settles over you – a feeling of going through the motions without really being present. It's a coping mechanism, a way to distance yourself from the reality of your illness and the uncertainty that comes with it.

But despite the clinical nature of your routine, there's a quiet determination that drives you forward. Each pill swallowed, each task completed is a small victory in the ongoing battle against your illness, however it’s a battle that you’re not sure if you’ll win or not.

You finish your morning routine and join Isaac in the kitchen, where he’s already preparing breakfast. He glances up at you as you enter, a warm smile on his face.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” he greets you, handing you a mug of steaming coffee, your one and only cup a day according to doctor’s orders.

Still lost in your thoughts, you burn your tongue as you take the first sip. Isaac eyes you carefully, a hint of concern in his gaze as you grab an ice cube and stick it in your mouth.

“You doing okay?” he asks, his voice soft.

You force a smile, hoping to reassure him. Pushing the ice cube towards your cheek, you speak, “yeah, just another day.”

“Just another day? Don’t you have to show Lando and Max around?” He asks, but quickly shifts his gaze to the egg on the pan.

You nod, grateful for the distraction from your thoughts. "Yeah, I do. I almost forgot," you reply, mentally shaking off the lingering unease that had gripped you earlier.

Isaac watches you closely, his concern evident in his furrowed brow. "Are you sure you're up for it?" he asks, his tone gentle.

You give him a reassuring smile, trying to push aside the gnawing doubts that linger at the back of your mind.

"I'll be fine," you insist, though the words sound hollow even to your own ears. “I’m thinking of showing them around some of the touristy spots first to get it out of the way, and then some historical sites if they’re up for it,” you explain, making a mental checklist.

He nods, accepting your answer for now. "Just take it easy, okay? And call me if you need anything," he says, reaching out to squeeze your hand.

You squeeze his hand back, grateful for his unwavering support. "Thanks, Isaac," you murmur, feeling a sense of warmth wash over you in his presence.

Together, you and Isaac finish your breakfast in companionable silence, the weight of the upcoming day lingering in the air. But there was a hint of excitement brewing in your mind once you were reminded of your neighbours, and perhaps it’ll distract you from your usual thoughts.

Meanwhile, Lando dashed around his room, wearing only a pair of pants, his movements quick and purposeful as he rummaged through his suitcase, searching for the perfect shirt for the day ahead. He glanced at the clock on the bedside table, his brow furrowing in frustration as he realized how quickly time was slipping away.

"Max, are you almost ready?" he called out, his voice tinged with urgency.

From the living room, Max's relaxed voice drifted back. "Yeah, just taking my time. No rush, right?"

Lando rolled his eyes, muttering under his breath as he continued his frantic search for the right outfit. He held up a full sleeved sweatshirt against himself, judging the shirt in the mirror.

“No, too hot,” he muttered to himself and tossed the garment aside. He continued shuffling through the suitcase, not having the time to unpack completely.

Then he held up a simpler t-shirt, considering it for a moment before shaking his head. “Too casual,” he mumbled, discarding it onto the growing pile of rejected clothes.

With a sense of growing frustration, Lando finally spotted a light, airy button-down shirt that seemed suitable for the warm weather. He quickly slipped it on, feeling a sense of relief wash over him as the fabric settled comfortably against his skin.

Satisfied with his choice, Lando turns his attention to his hair, running his fingers through his unruly curls in an attempt to tame them into some semblance of order. After a few futile attempts, he huffed and searched around for his beloved bucket hat, placing it on his head to prevent putting more effort into his hair.

Glancing at himself in the mirror, he straightened his shirt and adjusted his hat. As a final touch, Lando grabbed his sunglasses and hastily shoved them in his pocket, then grabbed his phone and wallet before heading out of the room.

As he entered the living room, Lando found Max lounging on the couch, seemingly unperturbed by the passing time. "C'mon, mate, we're gonna be late because of you," Lando chided, his tone laced with exasperation.

Max shrugged nonchalantly, a lazy grin playing across his lips. "She didn't give you a time."

Lando resisted the urge to roll his eyes, his frustration mounting with each passing second. "I know, but she's taking time out of her day to show us around. We need to be respectful."

Max chuckled, propping himself up on one elbow as he regarded Lando with amusement. "You asked her to show us around, you didn't need to."

Lando sighed, his patience wearing thin. "She's a local, Max. It's important to make a good impression."

Max's grin widened, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. "Is that all what she is?"

Soon enough, Max decided to spare his best friend from further frustration and went upstairs to get dressed.

While he did so, Lando thought about Max’s question, which he left unanswered. You were a mere stranger, yet after meeting you yesterday, he couldn’t stop thinking about you.

Lando instantly sat up after a moment, looking around the room and spotting his digital camera sitting on the table nearby. He picked it up by the straps of the bag, wanting to take as many photos of the events of today as he could.

The sound of footsteps echoed from upstairs, and soon Max reappeared, clad in a fresh set of clothes. He flashed a grin before taking his phone back from Lando.

“Finally ready?” Lando teased, looking up at him.

Max rolled his eyes, “yes.” He ran a hand through his tousled hair before asking, “what’s the plan for today?”

Lando shrugged, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, “that’s for our lovely tour guide to decide.”

With a nod of agreement, Lando walked beside Max as they left the villa together.

Their footsteps crunched echoed softly against the cobblestone path. The afternoon sun cast a golden hue over the landscape, illuminating the streets as it was at the highest peak. As they made their way down the path, they spotted you stepping out of the cottage, a faint smile on your face as you headed towards them.

“Hey, look who’s here,” Max remarked, nudging Lando with his elbow.

Lando grinned in return, his eyes lighting up at the sight of you. “Hi,” he muttered as you stood in front of him.

You were quickly introduced to Max, and exchanged greetings before leading the way down the street.

“So, where are we off to today?” Max asked, his gaze looking around before returning back to you.

“Well, I thought we could start with a stroll through the town square,” you suggested, gesturing towards the many narrow streets. “Then, I’ll show you around a couple historic spots?” You asked, pausing and looking at them for a reaction.

Lando nodded in agreement, “sounds like a plan, lead the way, tour guide.”

With a playful grin, you set off towards the heart of the town, Lando and Max falling into step beside you.

As you lead Lando and Max through the winding streets of the town, each building you pass enveloped you in a sense of nostalgia. Each cobblestone path seemed to hold a story, whispered through the intricate architecture and vibrant colours of houses.

“You see that old bookstore over there?” you pointed, a smile playing on your lips. “It’s been here for generations, and they have the most fascinating collection of rare books.”

Lando’s eyes sparkled with intrigue as he glanced at the bookstore. “I’ll have to check it out then,” he stated.

“Avid reader?” You asked, walking side by side.

He shook his head, “not at all, but there has to be something fascinating if you like it.”

You chuckled at his response, focusing your gaze ahead as you felt your cheeks redden. “Well, I worked there as a teen, and from my experience, it’s always worth exploring.”

Lando nodded in agreement, his gaze lingering on the bookstore as you passed by it. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Max fell a couple of steps behind as he watched the interaction between you and Lando. Then he quickly caught up to his best friend, nudging him gently to gain his attention. “You know I’m here too, right?”

Lando rolled his eyes, “yeah, yeah, I know.”

As you led the way through the bustling crowd, Lando and Max trailed behind you, keeping close to ensure they didn’t lose sight of you amidst the throng of people. Along the winding streets, you were greeted by familiar faces, the locals calling out your name and exchanging warm greetings as you passed by.

Lando eagerly captured every picturesque moment with his camera. Occasionally, he would lower the camera to observe you as you engaged in conversations with strangers, raising the camera to his eye once more to capture candid moments of your interactions with them.

Amidst the lively atmosphere, you pointed out hidden gems nestled in the nooks and crannies of the town. From cozy art galleries adorned with vibrant paintings to antique shops filled with treasures of bygone eras, each discovery added to the tapestry of the town’s charm.

With each step, you shared tidbits of local history and anecdotes, painting a vivid picture of life in the town. Lando and Max listened attentively, their eyes alight with curiosity as they soaked in the sights and sounds of the vibrant community.

Walking down the narrow streets, you pointed out the historic clock tower and the old, abandoned church beside it. You mentioned that it was the oldest structure in town and pushed open the wooden doors.

Max looked around, intrigued. The interior had a musty scent mixed with faint incense, and sunlight streamed through stained glass, casting colorful patterns. He admired the architecture, understanding why it was cherished.

As you explored, you shared the tower’s history, noting its construction by skilled craftsmen from distant towns. The vaulted ceilings and stone pillars added to the sense of reverence. You paused, letting Max and Lando roam.

They were captivated by the church’s history and beauty, momentarily forgetting the outside world. Emerging into the sunlight, they exchanged awed glances, touched by the experience. It was a moment they would remember.

“So, what’s next on the agenda?” Lando asked, glancing down at his camera and scrolling through the photos before looking up at you.

You grinned, “well there’s a garden not too far from here. It’s the perfect place to unwind and enjoy the beauty of nature.”

Max’s eyes lit up with excitement, “yes, please, that sounds amazing.”

With a laugh, you led them along winding pathways lined with vibrant blooms leading towards the tranquil garden.

Max let out a contented sigh, “this place is amazing.”

You smiled, gesturing towards a cluster of vibrant flowers. “There’s something magical about it.”

Lando nodded in agreement, his eyes scanning the picturesque surroundings. “Definitely worth the visit,” he remarked, raising his camera to capture the beauty around him.

The tranquility of the garden seemed to envelop you, wrapping you in a sense of peace and serenity. Tall trees cast dappled shadows across the well-tended lawns, providing relief from the midday sun. The air was alive with the melodious chirping of birds and the occasional buzz of bees flitting from blossom to blossom.

The garden was a lush oasis, meticulously landscaped with winding pathways that meandered among vibrant flower beds and verdant shrubbery.

Max glanced at the pond, where a family of ducks paddled lazily. "Hey, check out those ducks," he exclaimed, pointing towards the water. "They look so peaceful."

You chuckled, nodding towards a nearby bench. "Let's take a seat and enjoy the view," you suggested.

As you sat on the stone bench, a sense of calm washed over you, the gentle rustle of leaves and the distant chirping of birds creating a soothing melody. Max and Lando joined you, their expressions reflecting a similar sense of contentment.

Water lilies floated gracefully on top of the clear waters, their delicate blooms adding a touch of elegance to the scene.

"This is nice," Max remarked, leaning back against the bench. "Thanks for bringing us here."

Lando nodded, his gaze drifting across the garden. "Yeah, it's a hidden gem," he agreed. "I never would've found it on my own."

You smiled, feeling a sense of satisfaction at sharing this special place with your neighbours. "I'm glad you both like it," you said warmly. "There's so much beauty to discover in this town if you know where to look."

As Lando admired the blooming flowers around him, his eyes settled on a particularly vibrant flower. With a grin, he plucked it from its stem, carefully holding it between his fingers.

"Hey, can I?" he asked, gesturing towards your hair with a playful twinkle in his eye.

You chuckled, nodding in amusement. "Sure, go ahead," you replied, tilting your head slightly to give him better access.

Lando leaned towards you with a grin, gently tucking the flower behind your ear. His touch was surprisingly gentle, his fingers brushing against your skin as he adjusted the placement of the bloom.

"There," he said with satisfaction, leaning back to admire his handiwork. "Looks perfect."

You couldn't help but smile at the gesture, feeling a warmth spread through you at the simple yet thoughtful gesture. "Thank you," you said softly, meeting Lando's gaze with appreciation.

You picked out another flower, holding it in front of him with a small smile. “My turn?”

Lando chuckled, leaning forward and allowing you to place the flower behind his ear. His gaze remained steady on your face, watching as you stuck the tip of your tongue out between your lips in concentration.

Leaning back, you looked at him with a smile. “There, now we match.”

“I see how it is,” Max grumbled from beside you, earning a chuckle from you and Lando.

Simultaneously, you and Lando picked out a couple of flowers, and placed them in his hair, his curls holding it steady.

“Cute,” you commented once you completed the masterpiece with the last flower. Max laughed as he looked at himself in his phone camera, snapping a selfie for memories before telling you and Lando to join.

Your face was squished between Lando and Max’s faces, both men displaying a cheesy grin for the photo, making you join in as well.

As the gentle breeze ruffled through the garden, Lando turned towards you with a curious glint in his eyes. “Are there any other magical places you want to show us?”

You pondered for a moment, considering the myriad of hidden gems scattered throughout the town. “Well, there’s one more spot I have in mind,” you replied, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

Max perked up at the mention of another adventure, his eyes lighting up with excitement. “I’m in, lead the way.”

With a nod, you rose from the bench, the flower in your hair swaying gently with the movement. “Let’s go,” you said, gesturing for Max and Lando to join you as you embarked on the next part of your journey.

As you led Max and Lando out of the garden, the thought of another special place lingered in your mind. The lighthouse, with its storied history and breathtaking views, beckoned to you like a beacon in the distance.

Lost in thought, you considered whether to reveal this cherished spot to your neighbours. The lighthouse held a special significance for you, a place of solace and reflection that you rarely shared with others. But something about Max and Lando’s genuine curiosity and enthusiasm stirred something within you, prompting you to entertain the idea of introducing them to this hidden gem.

With a flicker of determination, you made up your mind. The lighthouse would be the perfect finale to your tour, a fitting conclusion to a day filled with discovery and adventure.

As you neared the lighthouse, it stood tall against the sky, looking sturdy and ancient. Lando seemed really excited, his eyes wide as he took it all in. Max looked a bit unsure, especially when he saw the stairs leading up.

“It’s amazing, isn’t it?” you said softly once you saw Lando’s expression, feeling a sense of awe yourself.

He nodded eagerly, clearly impressed. “Yeah, it’s really cool,” he said, his voice filled with excitement.

“Are we going up there?” Max asked, a hint of apprehension creeping into his voice as he surveyed the towering structure.

You nodded, a sense of reverence washing over you as you gazed up at the weathered bricks and the solitary lateen perched at the top of the lighthouse. “Yes, it’s probably my favourite spot in this entire town.”

But Max seemed hesitant, eyeing the stairs with doubt. “I’m not too sure about this,” he admitted quietly.

You understood his feelings and wanted to reassure him. “That’s okay, Max,” you said gently, putting a hand on his shoulder. “We don’t have to climb all the way up if you don’t want to. We can still explore around here.”

Max glanced at Lando, “actually you know what? you guys should go up.” Max said suddenly, giving you a nod, “I’ll stay down here.”

You frowned, “are you sure? I can show you around elsewhere.”

But Max shook his head, “yeah, I’m sure. I know Lando really wants to check it out and I don’t wanna hold you guys back.”

“You’re gonna miss out, mate, just c’mon it’s a couple stairs,” Lando tried to convince his best friend.

He shook his head, “a couple? Looks like a lot, no, I’m good.”

With a final nod of reassurance, you and Lando headed towards the first couple of stairs, leaving Max behind. As you began the trek upwards, your comment from earlier intrigued Lando. “Why is this your favourite spot?”

“People don’t come here often, perhaps it’s because of the story behind it,” you replied, your words tinged with a hint of mystery.

“What, is it haunted or something?” He asked, a skeptical look crossing his face.

You shook your head, a wistful smile playing on your lips. “Legend says that this lighthouse is haunted, but I believe it’s just a tragic love story,” you explained.

“A love story? Do tell,” Lando urged, his curiosity piqued.

“It was decades ago, the story passed on from neighbour to neighbour, so I’m not exactly sure which parts are true,” you forewarned.

Lando smiled, “and you’re passing it on to your neighbour.”

You glanced back at him, pausing for a moment so he could catch up, standing on the same step as you, just a tad bit taller. You didn’t realize how narrow the staircase was until he was standing beside you, since you’ve only ever come here alone.

The air was heavy with the scent of salt and sea, and the sound of the waves crashing against the shore echoed faintly in the distance. Lando's eyes scanned your face, patiently waiting to hear the story.

You cleared your throat, looking away from him. "You see, there was once a young couple who sought refuge in this lighthouse," you began, your voice tinged with a hint of melancholy, recounting an old tale. "They were not from noble families or romance novels, but rather ordinary people with ordinary lives."

Lando leaned in closer, his curiosity piqued by the hint of mystery in your voice, causing you to shift on your feet but still remaining in the same spot, almost pressed against the wall beside you.

"The young man was a fisherman, his days spent toiling away on the sea, his hands calloused from years of hard work," you continued, your words painting a picture of a life marked by struggle and perseverance. "And the young woman was a seamstress, her fingers nimble with the needle and thread, her dreams tempered by the harsh realities of life."

Lando's gaze softened with empathy as he imagined the challenges faced by the young couple.

"But despite the hardships they endured, their love burned fiercely, a flame that refused to be extinguished by the storms of life," you said, your voice tinged with admiration for the resilience of the human spirit. "They would steal moments together in the quiet solitude of the lighthouse, finding solace in each other's arms amidst the chaos of the world."

Lando's heart swelled with warmth at the thought of such a simple yet profound love. You cleared your throat once you saw a hint of his smile, turning away and continuing your trek up the stairs while continuing the story.

"But their happiness was fleeting, as life has a way of testing even the strongest of bonds," you continued, your voice growing somber as you recounted the challenges faced by the young couple. "Their days were filled with hardship and uncertainty, their dreams overshadowed by the harsh realities of poverty."

Lando followed after you, his breath caught in his throat as he listened, his heart heavy with the weight of the young couple's struggles.

"And so, when tragedy struck and the young man was lost at sea, the young woman was left alone to face the cruel hand of fate," you whispered, your voice barely audible above the sound of the wind howling through the lighthouse. "Her grief was a burden too heavy to bear, her tears a testament to the depth of her sorrow."

Tears welled in Lando's eyes as he imagined the young woman's pain.

"And though the years passed and the world moved on, the lighthouse remained standing as a silent witness to the love that once flourished within its walls," you concluded, your voice tinged with a sense of reverence for the enduring legacy of the young couple. "Their spirits may have faded into the mists of time, but their love lives on in the whispers of the wind and the crashing of the waves, a reminder that even in the darkest of nights, love can be a guiding light."

Lando remained silent, his heart heavy with the weight of the young couple's story, as he pondered the fragile nature of love and the enduring power of human resilience in the face of adversity.

“You’re not making this up, are you?” He asked, just to be sure, but once he didn’t see you burst out laughing, he knew the answer.

"Legend has it that their spirits linger within these walls, bound by an eternal love that transcends the confines of time," you explained. "They say the light still flickers on stormy nights, a beacon of hope in the darkness, as if she's searching for her lost love amidst the crashing waves."

As you and Lando continued climbing the spiral staircase, the wooden steps creaked beneath your feet, each groan echoing through the hollow chamber like a whispered secret. The air grew cooler as you ascended, a faint scent of salt lingering in the air, a reminder of the vast expanse of ocean that stretched out beyond the horizon.

With each step, the world outside faded away, replaced by the soft glow of sunlight filtering through the narrow windows, casting intricate patterns of light and shadow on the worn stone walls. Lando's footsteps fell in sync with yours, his presence a comforting anchor in the midst of the swirling emotions that stirred within you.

As you reach the top of the lighthouse, a sense of awe washed over you, the panoramic view of the coastline stretching out before you like a painting come to life. The sea stretched out endlessly, its surface shimmering in the sunlight, while seagulls soared overhead, their cries mingling with the distant roar of the waves. It’s a sight you’ve seen many times, but every time still feels like the first.

Lando stood beside you, his gaze fixed on the horizon, his expression a mixture of wonder and awe. For a moment, the two of you stood in silence, the weight of the young couple's story hanging heavy in the air, a reminder of the fragile nature of love and the enduring power of human resilience.

As the light of the setting sun bathed the world in a warm golden glow, you couldn't help but feel a sense of peace wash over you, a quiet acceptance of the mysteries that lay hidden within the depths of the human heart.

With a soft sigh, you turned to Lando, a small smile playing on your lips. "Isn't it beautiful?" you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.

Lando nodded, his eyes shining with a newfound appreciation for the simple beauty of the world around him. "It's breathtaking," he agreed, his voice tinged with emotion.

As the sun dipped lower on the horizon, casting vibrant hues of orange and pink across the sky, you couldn't help but lose yourself in the breathtaking beauty of the sunset. The world seemed to slow down, the cares and worries of the day fading away as you stood transfixed by the natural spectacle unfolding before you.

But as the sky darkened and the first stars began to twinkle overhead, a pang of realization cut through the tranquil moment. It was almost nighttime, which meant it was time for your pills. You glanced at your watch, a flicker of anxiety fluttering in your chest as you calculated the minutes ticking away.

For a brief moment, you considered the consequences of being late in taking your medication. The regimen was strict, the consequences dire if you missed a dose. But as you looked at Lando standing beside you, gazing at you, his eyes reflecting the colors of the setting sun, a different thought crossed your mind.

Maybe, just this once, it was worth it to be a little late. Maybe, in this moment of shared beauty and connection, the rules could be bent just enough to allow you to savor the fleeting magic of the evening.

With a soft smile, you tucked the thought away, allowing yourself to linger a little while longer in the warm embrace of the sunset.

“Stay like that,” Lando instructed with a pointed finger at you.

“Like what?” You mumbled.

“Don’t move a muscle,” he hastily replied, holding the straps of the camera that was hung around his neck, quickly turning it on and pointing at you.

“You look beautiful in this light,” He stated, slightly gesturing to his camera before raising it.

A tint of blush covered your cheeks but you didn’t prevent him from taking a photo of you.

Remaining still, you heard the shutter click, once, twice, and even a third time before he was satisfied with the result.

“What are you going to do with those photos?” You ask, remembering that he’s taken quite a lot of them today, of all the different sceneries.

“Put 'em in an album, you know, for memories, and I can’t forget my favourite tour guide,” he said with a cheeky grin.

“Favourite? That’s quite a title for only the first day,” you teased with a smile, leaning against the railing, choosing to look at Lando instead of the setting sun.

“You know how to make a good impression, it’s hard not to call you my favourite.”

You chuckled softly, feeling a warmth spread through you at his words. "Well, I'm glad I could leave a good impression," you replied, a hint of playfulness in your tone.

Lando grinned, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "You've done more than that," he said, his voice softening. "You've shown us a side of this town that we never would've discovered on our own."

You felt a swell of pride at his words, grateful for the opportunity to share your hometown with new friends. "I'm just happy I could show you around," you said sincerely.

As the last rays of sunlight faded into darkness, you reluctantly tore your gaze away from Lando's, the moment of connection lingering in the air between you. "I suppose we should head back now," you said, a hint of regret coloring your voice.

Lando hesitated but nodded in agreement, “can’t keep Max waiting this long.”

But before you could move, he reached out and gently tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "Thank you, for everything," he said softly, his eyes searching yours.

You felt your heart skip a beat at his touch, a rush of warmth flooding through you at the intimate gesture. "You're welcome," you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.

With a lingering smile, Lando turned and started back towards the path, leaving you standing alone on the balcony, your thoughts swirling with a heady mix of emotions. Shaking your head to rid yourself of those thoughts, you followed him down the steps.

“Mate, it’s good that you didn’t come, she said it’s haunted.” You heard Lando’s voice, speaking to Max.

When you came into his view, Max looked at you with widened eyes, “haunted?”

You shrugged, looking at Lando, “it’ll make for a good bedtime story, don’t you think?”

Max started shaking his head, but Lando nodded, “I’ll be sure to tell him right before he gets a good night’s sleep.”

On the way back home, Lando had been so impressed by your touring skills that he had already started asking about your plans for the next day. With no responsibilities on your schedule, the three of you decided to go hiking on a nearby trail.

As you reached your cottage, the familiar sense of fatigue washed over you, dulling the edges of your excitement from the day’s activities. With a wave and a promise to meet again tomorrow for more adventures, you bid farewell to Lando and Max, watching as they walked off to the villa.

Once they were out of sight, you allowed your smile to fade, the weight of the day settling heavily on your shoulders. The ache in your joints intensified, a reminder of the illness that lurked beneath the surface, threatening to consume you if you let your guard down.

Stepping inside the cottage, you were surprised to find Isaac waiting for you in the dimly lit living room. His expression was a mix of concern and mild frustration as he looked up from his book.

"You didn’t take your nightly pills on time," he said, his voice gentle but firm. "You know you can’t skip it."

You sighed, the heaviness in your chest feeling almost unbearable. "Isaac, stop acting like our mother," you mumbled, moving past him to the kitchen.

Isaac followed you, not willing to let it go. "I’m serious. You’ve had a long day, and you need to take care of yourself. I don’t want you to overdo it."

Grabbing the bottle of medication from the counter, you turned to face him, irritation mingling with the fatigue in your eyes. "I know, okay? I just wanted one evening where I didn’t have to think about it. Just one."

He watched you with a mix of empathy and helplessness, understanding your need for normalcy but unable to ignore the reality of your condition. "I get it, I really do. But skipping your meds isn’t the way to do it."

With a heavy sigh, you filled a glass with water and downed the pills, the bitter taste lingering on your tongue. "Happy now?" you muttered, setting the empty glass down.

Isaac's expression softened, a flicker of guilt crossing his features. "I’m just worried about you," he said quietly.

You nodded, the weight of his concern settling heavily on your shoulders. "I know. I appreciate it, really. It’s just… sometimes it’s hard to keep going like this."

He reached out and squeezed your shoulder gently. "We’ll get through it, together. Just promise me you’ll take it easy tomorrow, okay?"

A faint smile tugged at your lips as you nodded. "Go get some sleep. You’ve been waiting up for me."

Isaac gave you a small, reassuring smile before heading to his room. As you settled into bed, the weight of exhaustion dragging at your limbs, you couldn’t help but wonder how many more days like this lay ahead. The uncertainty of the future loomed large in your mind, casting a shadow over even the simplest moments of joy.

As you drifted off to sleep, your thoughts lingered on Lando and Max. Their arrival felt like a breath of fresh air, a chance to momentarily forget about your illness and embrace a semblance of normalcy. They didn’t know about your condition, which meant they wouldn't look at you with pity or treat you like a fragile doll. Their presence offered a respite from the constant reminders of your limitations, an opportunity to live in the moment and savor each day as it came.

For so long, your life had been governed by routines and restrictions, every decision weighed against the backdrop of your illness. But with Lando and Max, you felt a sense of freedom, an invitation to break away from the chains that bound you. They saw you not as someone fragile, but as a capable guide and a new friend. You wanted to hold onto that feeling, to let their presence remind you of who you were beyond the confines of your diagnosis.

Their energy and zest for life felt like a tonic; lifting your spirits and reigniting your desire to experience the world beyond your illness. With them, you could laugh freely, explore without fear, and simply be yourself without constantly worrying. Yet, there was a lingering guilt that gnawed at you, a silent whisper that you were using them, exploiting their company to escape your reality.

Despite the joy they brought, this guilt cast a shadow over your newfound happiness. You didn’t want to deceive them or yourself, but the allure of living fully and freely, even for a short while, was too tempting to resist. You resolved to make the most of their visit, using their company as an excuse to live as vibrant as you once did.

—

The next morning, you moved with practiced stealth, careful not to make a sound as you gathered your hiking gear. The house was still and quiet, the early hour providing a perfect cover for your escape. You knew your brother would disapprove of your plans to go hiking with Lando, so you hoped to slip out before he noticed.

Just as you reached the front door, the sound of footsteps halted your progress. Turning, you saw Isaac standing there, a backpack slung over his shoulder, clearly ready to head out himself. His eyes narrowed as he took in your gear.

“And where do you think you’re going?” Isaac’s voice was tight with concern.

You sighed, knowing this confrontation was inevitable. “I’m going hiking with Lando. It’s just a short trail, nothing too strenuous.”

Isaac’s expression darkened. “Didn’t I tell you to take it easy? When are you going to take care of yourself?”

“What more do you want me to do?” you snapped, your frustration bubbling over. “Should I wrap myself up in bubble wrap and stay in bed until I inevitably die?”

“Don’t say that,” Isaac’s voice wavered, his concern morphing into something deeper and more painful.

“I have to!” you shouted, the dam of pent-up emotions finally breaking. “I have to acknowledge it, to you, to our parents, because while you guys are doing everything in your power to ignore it, it’s still gonna happen whether you like it or not.”

He took a step back, his face pale. “I just want you to be safe.”

“I’m going to die anyways,” you continued, your voice trembling with the weight of your confession. “Whether it’s tomorrow or a couple of weeks later, I’ve accepted that by now. You know why? Because even if I’m alive right now, I’m treated like a fucking corpse. I cannot do a single thing without our mother’s voice in my mind. ‘Oh, don’t stand for too long, don’t walk for too long, take your meds, don’t let your heartbeat speed up, don’t eat this, don’t eat that.’ It’s fucking tiring. Forget her, I can’t even be an older sister anymore for you. For god’s sake, you make breakfast, lunch, and dinner for us. You’re acting as if I can’t lift a single spoon.”

Isaac’s eyes were filled with tears now, but you couldn’t stop. The words poured out, each one a release of years of pent-up frustration and pain. “The entire town knows, Isaac. Any time I go out, I see the pity in their eyes. You know who doesn’t know? Lando and Max. And I have no plans on telling them because they actually treat me like a healthy human, something you guys won’t ever do again.”

You didn’t wait for his response, not allowing him to speak. You walked out the door, letting it close behind you with a finality that echoed your determination.

When you reached, Lando was already waiting for you by the trailhead, leaning casually against a tree with his backpack at his feet. He waved when he saw you approaching, his smile faltering slightly as he noticed the tension in your posture and the slight frown on your face.

"Hey, there you are!" he called out, his voice bright. "I was starting to think you'd changed your mind."

"Sorry, I'm a bit late," you replied, forcing a smile.

Lando's brow furrowed with concern. "Everything okay?"

You waved it off, not wanting to delve into the argument with Isaac. "Yeah, just had a rough morning. Let's get going, shall we?"

He nodded, still seeming a bit unsure. "Alright, if you say so." He hoisted his backpack over his shoulder and fell into step beside you as you started down the trail.

“Max isn’t joining us today?” you asked as you started the hike.

Lando shrugged playfully. “Nah, he’s not really the hiking type.”

In truth, Lando thought back to the moment he convinced Max to do something else. He had wanted this time alone with you, to get to know you better without any distractions. The way your face lit up when you talked about your favorite places made him want to see more of that joy.

You laughed, shaking your head. "Yeah, he doesn't seem like the outdoorsy type. I guess we'll have to find something else to drag him into."

As you continued along the path, Lando’s closeness became even more evident. He would occasionally place his hand on your back to guide you over rough terrain or hold your hand to help you across a stream. Each touch was gentle yet charged with an energy that made your heart race.

The path wound through a dense forest, dappled sunlight filtering through the canopy above. The air was fresh, filled with the scent of pine and the sound of birds chirping. As you walked, the tension from your argument with Isaac began to ease, the peaceful surroundings and Lando's infectious enthusiasm slowly lifting your spirits.

"Maybe we can convince him to join us on a beach day or something," Lando said, his thoughts lingering on how much he enjoyed these moments alone with you. "But honestly, I'm kinda glad it's just the two of us today. More time to get to know my favorite tour guide."

You felt a flutter in your chest at his words, the compliment warming you from the inside. “Still your favorite tour guide, huh?”

He shrugged playfully. "The competition is tough, but you’re always coming out on top. Besides, I figured I needed some one-on-one time to really experience what this town has to offer."

As the trail began to climb, you focused on your breathing, matching your pace to Lando's. The conversation drifted to lighter topics, and you found yourself relaxing more with each step. The forest opened up to a meadow filled with wildflowers, the colors vivid and bright under the morning sun.

Lando knelt down to take a photo of a particularly vibrant patch of flowers. "This place is incredible. How do you know all these hidden spots?"

"I've lived here my whole life," you said, watching him as he adjusted the focus on his camera. "Spent a lot of time exploring."

"Must be nice," he said, standing up and looking around. "Having all this beauty right in your backyard."

"Yeah, it is," you replied, though your thoughts drifted back to the times you wanted to leave this place. "Sometimes you take it for granted until you share it with someone else."

Eventually, you reached a lookout point with a breathtaking view of the coastline along with the lighthouse you explored yesterday. The ocean stretched out endlessly, waves glittering in the sunlight. Lando pulled out his camera again, capturing the scene and a few candid shots of you taking in the view.

"This is amazing," he said, his voice filled with awe. "Thanks for bringing me here."

You smiled, feeling a sense of accomplishment mixed with a pang of guilt. Lando didn’t know the real reason behind your determination to hike today, nor the weight you were trying to escape.

"You're welcome," you replied. "I'm glad you're here to share it with me."

As you stood there, side by side with Lando, your words said to Isaac still lingered in the back of your mind, wondering if you'd said the wrong thing. You knew that you had to take a stand for yourself, otherwise you’d be pressured into regret, but he’s also your brother and he’s always wanted the best for you. You pushed those thoughts down, determined to make the most of this day as if it was your last.

With Lando's enthusiasm and the beauty of the surroundings, you found it easier to forget, even if just for a little while, the shadow that always loomed over you.

"So, what's next on our adventure?" Lando asked, breaking the silence.

You laughed softly. "Let's just see where the trail takes us."

Once Lando was satisfied with the amount of photos he took, you began to descend the trail from the lookout point. The path became steeper causing you to walk carefully, trying to focus on your footing.

The trail wound through another section of dense forest with the ground covered in a thick layer of fallen leaves. You and Lando continued to chat, touching upon all sorts of topics.

Just as you were starting to relax, your foot caught on a hidden root and you found yourself losing balance. Panic surged through you as your ankle twisted painfully. Before you could hit the ground, Lando was there, his arms wrapping around you and pulling you upright. His grip was strong and steady, and you clung to him for a moment, trying to catch your breath and process the sudden burst of pain.

“Whoa, are you okay?” Lando asked, concern etched on his face as he steadied you.

You winced, trying to put weight on your ankle and finding it difficult. “I think I twisted my ankle.”

Lando’s brows furrowed with worry. “Let’s sit down for a minute. Here, lean on me.”

He guided you to a nearby rock, helping you sit down gently. He knelt in front of you, examining your ankle with a careful touch. “Does it hurt a lot?”

You nodded, biting your lip to keep from crying out. “Yeah, it does.”

Lando looked around, his face serious. “I think we should head back. I don’t want you to make it worse.”

You sighed, feeling a wave of frustration mixed with embarrassment. “I’m sorry, Lando. I didn’t mean to ruin our hike.”

He shook his head, his expression softening. “Hey, don’t worry about it. Your safety is more important than the hike. Besides, we can always come back another time.”

He helped you stand, supporting your weight as you gingerly tested your injured ankle. With his arm around your waist, you felt a mixture of gratitude and awkwardness, acutely aware of his closeness and the concern in his eyes.

As you slowly made your way back down the trail, Lando stayed close, his grip on you firm but gentle. His presence was comforting, and despite the pain, you felt a sense of connection with him that was hard to ignore.

Back at the trailhead, Lando leads you towards his car, surprising you. “When did you get a car?”

“Figured I’d rent one while I’m here, just so we don’t have to walk everywhere,” Lando shrugged as he explained.

He helped you into his car, making sure you were comfortable before getting in himself. He started the car, casting quick glances at you to ensure you were alright. The engine’s hum was a soothing background noise as he navigated the road back to town.

“You know,” he began, trying to lighten the mood, “I think this might be the first hike I’ve been on where we didn’t make it to the top.”

You chuckled softly, appreciating his effort to keep things light. “There’s a first for everything, I guess.”

He smiled, eyes focused on the road. “Yeah, and now we have an excuse to do it again. When you’re feeling better, of course.”

You leaned back, the pain in your ankle dulling slightly with the rest. “I appreciate that, Lando. And I promise, next time, no hidden roots.”

He laughed, a genuine sound that made you feel a bit better about the whole situation. “Deal.”

As you pulled into the town, Lando’s concern was still evident. “Do you want to go straight to the clinic, or should we stop by your place first?”

“Home is fine,” you replied. “I’ll just need some ice and rest.”

Lando nodded, driving directly to your house. He parked and quickly came around to help you out. With his support, you hobbled across the driveway to the front door, quickly finding your keys and entering.

Inside, you settled on the couch while Lando fetched some ice from the kitchen with your directions. He elevated your foot, resting it on a cushion before gently placing the ice pack on your ankle. “Keep this on for a while,” he instructed, earning a chuckle from you.

“Okay, Doctor Lando.” You winced slightly at the cold but knew it was necessary. “Thank you,” you muttered softly as he joined you on the couch.

“Hey, what are friends for?” He shot back.

You raised your eyebrows. “When did we become friends?” you asked teasingly.

Without a beat, he responded, “from the moment you told me I got scammed.”

You shook your head with a smile on your face. His genuine care and the connection you felt during the hike was undeniable. Despite the pain and the day’s mishap, you still enjoyed it all.

As you both sat there, the sun beginning to set outside, you felt a strange sense of peace. Maybe you couldn’t control everything about your condition, but you could control how you spent your time. Right now, with Lando by your side, you felt like you were making the most of it.

“How about we watch a movie?” Lando suggested, breaking the comfortable silence. “Something to take your mind off things.”

“That sounds perfect,” you agreed.

As the movie started, you felt the tension of the day begin to fade, replaced by a warm sense of contentment. As the soft glow of the television cast a warm light across the room, you heard the front door creak open. You tensed slightly, knowing it was Isaac. The memory of your heated argument from earlier that morning returned to your mind like it was fresh, and you weren’t sure how he would react to finding Lando here.

Isaac stepped into the living room, his eyes flicking between you and Lando, and then down to your ankle propped up with an ice pack. His brows furrowed in surprise, and his look spoke volumes — a silent “I told you so” about taking it too far.

“Hey,” Isaac said, his tone carefully neutral as he addressed Lando. “What’s going on here?”

“Hey,” Lando responded, sensing the tension but keeping his tone friendly. “We went hiking, and she twisted her ankle.”

Isaac’s eyes narrowed slightly, a mix of concern and frustration flashing across his face. “I see.”

You shifted uncomfortably, feeling the need to explain but also not wanting to escalate the situation. “It’s just a sprain, Isaac. Lando’s been helping me out.”

Isaac nodded curtly, his gaze softening slightly but still clearly worried. “Thanks, mate,” he addressed Lando.

He started towards the kitchen, clearly not wanting to prolong the conversation but not ignoring your presence either.

You watched him go, feeling a mix of relief and lingering tension. The argument had left a mark, but you could see that he was making an effort to understand your perspective, even if he wasn’t ready to talk about it.

Lando glanced at you, sensing the undercurrent of emotion. “You and your brother… everything okay?”

You sighed softly, not wanting to burden him with the details. “We had a disagreement earlier. It’s complicated.”

He nodded, not pushing further but offering a supportive presence. “Well, I’m here if you need anything.”

Isaac reappeared a few minutes later with a glass of water, which he handed to you without a word. You took it with a grateful smile. “Thanks.”

He simply nodded again and headed to his room, leaving you and Lando alone in the living room. Despite the brief interaction, you felt a subtle shift in Isaac’s demeanor. He was trying, in his own way, to respect your wishes and not overdo his concern for your illness.

As the movie continued, you found yourself relaxing again, the earlier tension easing away. Lando’s easygoing nature and the quiet understanding from your brother provided a much-needed sense of balance.

The minutes ticked by, and you found yourself growing more comfortable and drowsy, especially with Lando’s warm presence beside you. Earlier, you had mentioned feeling cold, due to the ice, and he had fetched a blanket, draping it over both of you. As you nestled into the couch, the combination of the movie’s soft soundtrack and Lando’s steady breathing lulled you into a peaceful sleep.

Lando noticed when your head gently rested against his shoulder, your breathing deep and even. He smiled softly, careful not to move and disturb you. As the credits began to roll, he glanced at his watch and realized it was getting late. Reluctantly, he decided it was time to leave.

He gently shifted, trying to move without waking you. Before he got up, he couldn’t resist the urge to lean in and press a tender kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering for just a moment. It was an instinctive gesture, filled with affection that he hadn’t fully acknowledged until now.

Carefully, he adjusted the blanket to ensure you were snug and warm. He stood up quietly, casting one last fond look at you before making his way to the door. Lando left silently, closing the door with a soft click, leaving you to your dreams.

An hour later, Isaac retreated from his bedroom, finding you fast asleep on the couch. Instead of waking you, he went to the kitchen and fetched your evening medicine and a glass of water. Returning to the living room, he placed them gently on the table beside the couch, ensuring they’d be the first things you saw when you woke up.

Isaac stood there for a moment, watching you sleep peacefully. Despite the argument earlier, he understood your desire to live fully, even if it scared him. With a sigh, he retreated back to his room, hoping that you’d find a balance between living your life and taking care of yourself. The quiet house seemed to settle around your sleeping form, a brief moment of peace amidst the whirlwind of emotions and challenges.

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halfmoonaria · 27 days ago

Text

the only way out

pairing: vada cavell & female reader

summary: you wake up and find the purpose you thought you'd lost.

word count: 5.3k

warnings: heavily described mental health struggles, overdose, intense emotional themes

author’s note: this piece was originally written for suicide awareness month, but I never ended up posting it because it touches on extremely serious topics that may be triggering for those who are struggling.

please don’t hesitate to message me if you find this overwhelming or upsetting—it was never my intention to harm anyone, and i’ll take it down if needed.

The fan above you moved in lazy, uneven circles, its blades clicking faintly with every turn. The sound wasn't loud, but it filled the room in a way that made the silence even more suffocating.

You'd always hated that fan. Its hum was just a little too low, its clicks just a little too sharp. It had never been comforting, not even on sleepless nights when you'd stared at it for hours, willing it to lull you into unconsciousness.

The sheets beneath you clung to your legs, warm and slightly damp where they had twisted around you in the night.

They smelled faintly of laundry detergent, a clean scent that felt too normal, too at odds with the weight pressing down on your chest. Your pillow was heavy with last night's tears, the fabric stiff against your cheek.

Outside, the world continued as if nothing had happened. Birds chirped in short, rhythmic bursts, their songs sharp and insistent.

A car rumbled by in the distance, its engine fading into nothing before you could place where it had gone. Somewhere, someone's dog barked—a quick, restless sound that echoed faintly through the thin walls of the house.

Your eyes drifted to the sliver of sunlight sneaking through the curtains, the soft golden streaks crawling slowly across the floor.

They didn't light up the room so much as they highlighted its stillness, casting shadows on the cluttered desk in the corner and the pile of clothes you'd meant to put away but never had.

It all felt so ordinary. So painfully normal.

You shifted slightly, the movement sending a faint breeze from the fan across your skin. It made you shiver, but not enough to shake the heaviness that sat in your chest like a stone.

You couldn't bring yourself to care about the mess, the sunlight, the sounds outside. None of it mattered.

Your gaze wandered lazily, drifting across the room until it landed on the nightstand.

And then you froze.

The bottles were still there.

It wasn't immediate, the way the realization crept up on you. At first, you just stared at them, the small orange containers sitting perfectly upright, lids tightly screwed on. They looked almost... innocent, like they didn't belong in this room or this moment.

But the sight of them sent a chill through you, cold and sharp, as the memories of last night began to flood back.

Your breath caught, your chest tightening as if a hand had wrapped itself around your ribs and squeezed.

The bottles. The pills.

You'd been so sure. So certain. You'd counted them out one by one, your hands trembling but your resolve steady. You'd swallowed them all, the bitter taste lingering on your tongue even after you'd drained the glass of water you'd set beside your bed. And then... nothing.

Your stomach twisted violently, shame and panic bubbling up all at once. It hadn't worked.

You were still here.

Your hands gripped the sheets, the fabric bunched tightly in your fists as your mind raced. It didn't make sense. How were you still here? Why were you still here? The questions hit you like punches, each one more suffocating than the last.

Even this, you couldn't do right.

The thought slammed into you, heavy and unforgiving, and you couldn't stop it from spiraling. You'd failed.

The tears came now, hot and burning as they spilled over your cheeks, but they brought no relief. If anything, they made it worse, each drop a reminder of your humiliation, your weakness.

What if someone found out?

What if Vada found out?

The fear struck you like ice water, cold and paralyzing. What if she saw the bottles? What if she pieced together what you'd tried to do? Would she pity you? Would she call you selfish? Would she even care?

The room seemed to shrink around you, the walls closing in as your breaths came faster, shallower. You tried to focus on the fan, the birds, the sunlight—anything but the pills on the nightstand. But you couldn't look away.

They sat there, mocking you, a silent testament to everything you hated about yourself. The shame was unbearable, seeping into every inch of your body until it felt like you might explode from the weight of it.

You curled in on yourself, your knees pulling up to your chest as the sobs finally broke free.

They were ugly and raw, the kind that made your throat ache and your head pound. You pressed your face into the pillow, desperate to muffle the sound, as if the silence around you could somehow judge you for breaking it.

But the silence didn't care.

You couldn't stay here. Not in this room, not with those bottles sitting there like a neon sign screaming the truth you didn't want anyone to know.

You stumbled out of bed, your legs heavy as if they were weighed down by concrete. The air in the room felt suffocating now, each breath shallow and uneven as you made your way to the mirror above your dresser.

Your reflection stared back at you, raw and unfiltered. Your eyes were red and puffy, the skin around them swollen from the tears that had carved paths down your cheeks throughout the night. Your lips trembled slightly, the faint outline of tear tracks still visible on your pale skin. You looked like a ghost—fragile and hollow, a faint echo of the person Vada thought she knew.

Vada.

Her name alone made your chest tighten. She thought you were fine. She'd asked you earlier this week if you were okay. She said you looked tired. And you'd lied. You told her it was school, the endless exams and assignments wearing you down. She believed you, because why wouldn't she? She had no reason to think otherwise.

You reached for the concealer on your dresser, your hands trembling as you twisted the cap off. The familiar scent hit you as you dabbed it onto your skin, carefully blending it over the dark circles beneath your eyes and the splotchy redness of your cheeks. It didn't work. No amount of makeup could hide what had happened. No amount of foundation or powder could erase the evidence of the night before.

Still, you tried.

It was mechanical, the way you moved through the motions. Concealer. Powder. Mascara. Each step a small barrier between you and the truth, between you and the possibility that someone—anyone—might notice. But the mirror didn't lie. You still looked hollow, your eyes distant and glassy no matter how much makeup you applied.

You didn't bother with your hair. You didn't bother with nice clothes. What was the point? You weren't supposed to be here today. You weren't supposed to be anywhere.

You grabbed the first things you could find—a hoodie that hung loosely around your frame and a pair of faded jeans that were crumpled in a pile by your bed. They didn't match. You didn't care. You just needed to get out of the house, to get away from the suffocating quiet of your room and the heavy presence of those bottles on the nightstand.

As you pulled the hoodie over your head, you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror again. It was strange, how normal you looked in the clothes, how easy it might be for someone to glance at you and think everything was fine. Vada thought everything was fine.

But it wasn't.

Your backpack was still by the door where you'd left it yesterday, and you slung it over your shoulder with a heaviness that had nothing to do with its weight. You didn't double-check if you had everything. You didn't care if you forgot something.

You just needed to leave.

But when you walked out, the bus roared past you, its brakes squealing faintly as it disappeared down the street. You barely flinched. It wasn't the first time you'd missed it, and you doubted it would be the last.

The walk to school wasn't far, and the early morning air bit at your cheeks as you shoved your hands into your hoodie pockets. Each step felt heavier than the last, not because of distance, but because of the weight pressing down on your chest.

Your phone buzzed in your pocket, and you pulled it out, squinting at the screen. Vada.

Her name lit up across the screen over and over, a chain of messages sent throughout the morning.

good moring

are u fine

why aren't u answering

Guilt curled in your stomach, but you typed out a quick response anyway.

sorry i slept in too late

Another lie. One of many. You hovered over the screen for a moment, then hit send.

The streets were quiet, the faint sound of cars in the distance blending with the rhythmic thud of your shoes against the pavement.

You passed the same houses you always did, their curtains drawn tight, some with faint outlines of people moving behind the windows. You passed the convenience store on the corner, the one with the flickering neon sign that always said "OPEN" no matter the time of day.

It was all so normal. So utterly mundane. These were sights you weren't supposed to see again. The thought hit you suddenly, and your steps faltered for just a moment before you kept walking.

A bird perched on a power line above you, its chirping sharp and insistent, and you wondered briefly if it was the same bird you'd seen last week in this exact spot.

You watched it for a second too long before looking away, your throat tightening at the thought. You weren't supposed to be here to notice that.

The school building came into view as you rounded the corner, its brick walls looming ahead, unchanged and indifferent.

As you walked through the gates and up the steps, you kept your head down, letting the hood of your sweatshirt shield you from any curious glances. Not that anyone was paying attention.

Nobody looked your way as you entered. Not one person.

It felt like a relief. For now. You knew it wouldn't last. The whispers would start eventually, and the glances would follow. Someone would find out. They always did. It was just a matter of time. But for now, in this moment, you were invisible.

You thought maybe you should've felt grateful for it, for the anonymity. But all you felt was the heavy ache that had settled deep inside your chest, the same one you'd woken up with, the same one that had refused to leave.

Vada wasn't in any of your classes today, and that felt like both a relief and a weight. A relief because she'd know. She'd see through the layers of concealer smeared over your face, the uneven coverage that couldn't quite hide the red, puffy skin underneath.

She'd notice the exhaustion in your eyes, too deep to pass off as just a bad night's sleep. She'd figure it out—how many hours you hadn't slept, how "sleeping in late" was just another excuse.

You didn't have the energy to face her today.

The hallway buzzed faintly with conversation as you walked to your locker. Your feet moved on autopilot, weaving through the small clusters of students without bothering to acknowledge any of them.

When you reached your locker, the cold metal felt grounding against your fingertips as you twisted the dial of the combination lock.

Everything about the moment felt routine, but you couldn't shake the heaviness pressing down on your chest.

You gathered your things—textbooks, a notebook, pens that rattled faintly in their pouch—and slammed the locker shut, the sound louder than you expected in the noise-filled hallway.

Your first class was in the far corner of the building, and by the time you reached it, most of the seats were already taken. You scanned the room quickly, your eyes locking onto the one in the back. It was perfect—out of the way, unnoticed.

You slipped into the seat without meeting anyone's gaze, tugging your hoodie tighter around you as if it could make you invisible.

Nobody paid much attention to you, and for that, you were grateful.

Nobody asked you for notes. Nobody asked you to repeat what the teacher had just said. Nobody asked you for an extra pen. You didn't even get the usual forced small talk about the weather or the weekend.

Some students glanced at you, their eyes lingering just a little too long. It wasn't concern. It was something sharper—curiosity, maybe even judgment.

You told yourself it was because of your outfit, the loose hoodie and jeans that didn't exactly scream "put together."

They weren't supposed to know the real reason.

Even the teacher didn't ask you a single question, which was a first. Normally, they loved calling on you, loved asking you questions you could barely answer on a good day.

But today, they barely glanced your way. You didn't know if it was luck or some twisted mercy, but you weren't going to question it.

You sank lower into your seat, your notebook open in front of you but untouched. The words on the board blurred together, and the voices around you faded into the background, just another layer of noise.

All you could focus on was the faint pulse of your own heartbeat in your ears, steady and unrelenting, a reminder of everything you couldn't escape.

The day dragged on slowly, the minutes stretching into hours in a way they always did when Vada wasn't around to fill the silence.

Usually, you didn't mind her endless chatter, even on the days you weren't in the mood to respond. It gave the day some rhythm, something to hold on to. Without her, everything felt sluggish, each second creeping by with unbearable stillness.

Nobody noticed you in your other classes either. You stayed in the back, kept your head down, and only looked up when absolutely necessary. Nobody asked for your help, and you didn't offer it.

Teachers barely acknowledged your presence, and classmates didn't even glance your way. You were just another body in the room, blending into the background.

By lunchtime, the emptiness in your stomach wasn't enough to convince you to eat. You knew Vada was probably out with Nick anyway, laughing about something trivial while you sat alone in the cafeteria or pretended to be interested in your phone.

The thought made your chest ache, so you didn't bother going at all. Instead, you slipped into the nearest bathroom and locked yourself in a stall, sinking down onto the closed lid of the toilet.

It was quiet there, apart from the occasional shuffle of feet and the murmur of voices that echoed faintly off the tiled walls. You stayed there until the warning bell rang, telling yourself you'd move when you had to.

By the time the last period rolled around, you decided to skip it altogether. It wasn't like anyone was going to miss you. You grabbed your bag and left through the side doors, the weight of the day pressing harder with each step.

The walk home felt longer than usual, even though your feet carried you along the same route they always did. The sun was lower now, casting long shadows across the pavement, and the air had turned cooler, biting against your skin. You didn't rush. There was no point.

When you finally reached the house, the familiar creak of the front door greeted you as you stepped inside. You dropped your bag onto the floor with a thud, the sound cutting through the quiet like a knife. But the moment your shoes hit the mat, you froze.

Your mother's voice drifted from upstairs.

From your bedroom.

Her voice wasn't sharp, but shaky and filled with desperation. Loud, panicked sobs cut through the stillness, her words fractured, broken.

It was the kind of sound that made your stomach twist in ways you couldn't explain, your heart pounding so hard it felt like it might bruise your ribs.

For a moment, you froze at the bottom of the stairs, your mind racing. She had to have found the bottles, you thought.

She must be crying to your father, frantic, trying to piece together a story where you were some addict. The shame burned through your chest at the thought, hot and unbearable.

Before you could think twice, your legs moved on their own, carrying you up the stairs two at a time. Every creak of the steps matched the pounding of your heart as her voice grew louder, more raw, more guttural.

Yet you still couldn't make out what she was saying. The words were a jumbled mess of sobs and gasps, broken by her breathing that was shallow and uneven.

You reached the top of the stairs, your breaths coming fast and ragged, your stomach churning with something you didn't dare name. And then you saw her.

You stopped cold in the doorway, your hand gripping the frame as the world tipped on its axis.

There she was. Your mother.

Her entire body shook as she was clutching something, someone. Her hands trembled violently as she smoothed a strand of hair back, her voice raw and pleading, "Please... please don't leave."

And then your eyes focused.

It was you.

Your own body, limp and lifeless in her arms.

The air was ripped from your lungs in an instant, leaving behind an empty, crushing silence in your chest. You couldn't move, couldn't breathe, couldn't do anything but watch as your mother cradled your motionless form, her tears falling onto your face—the same face you had seen in the mirror just hours ago.

Her phone was pressed against her ear, her knuckles white from how tightly she gripped it. Her other hand moved with heartbreaking tenderness, smoothing down your hair as if trying to soothe you awake. But her voice was anything but soothing.

It was frantic.

Desperate.

Begging.

"Please, just hold on," she sobbed, her words stumbling over each other. "Please, God, no."

The voice on the other end of the call was calm, distant, detached. It was a woman, instructing her to start CPR—how to position her hands, how to count the compressions, how to breathe for you.

But your mother wasn't hearing her. Or maybe she was, but she couldn't bring herself to let go of you long enough to follow the instructions. Her free hand shook uncontrollably as she tried to do everything at once—hold you, call for help, fight to keep you here.

The sound of her anguish filled the room, swallowing everything else. It was a sound you had never heard before, and one you knew you'd never forget. It was pure, raw, unfiltered grief, the kind that clawed its way out of her chest and spilled into the air, suffocating everything in its path.

And all you could do was stand there, frozen, as you watched her world crumble beneath her.

Time lost all meaning. It felt like hours passed in the span of a single breath, each moment slipping through your fingers like sand. You couldn't remember what happened during those hours. You didn't know where you were supposed to be, or if you were even still yourself.

Was that why nobody had noticed you at school? Had you even been there at all?

Your head spun, your thoughts tripping over one another as you stared at nothing. Everything felt detached, distant, like you were watching someone else's life unravel from behind a glass wall.

Your phone buzzed incessantly, the vibrations pulling you back into the moment. It was still clutched in your hand, though you didn't remember picking it up. The screen was lit with a cascade of notifications, the words blurring together until you forced yourself to focus,

One notification after another, the screen lighting up with endless messages from Vada. She was spamming you, practically hysterical.

y/n. oh my god.

whats happening?

why didn't you tell me?

why didn't you say anything?!

pls answer me. im losing my mind.

pick up the phone.

y/n please.

you can't be serious right now. u can't.

i don't believe this. i won't believe it.

tell me it's not true.

this doesn't make sense. it doesn't make sense.

you were fine. u told me you were fine.

i believed u. i shouldn't have believed you.

how could i not see this?

Nick's came following.

There is no way.

I just heard. What the hell is going on?

You didn't think about whether they cared. Why would you? It wasn't something you had allowed yourself to dwell on, not for a long time. You thought you knew they didn't care. It wasn't just a fleeting insecurity or a passing thought; it was a truth you had accepted. It was the narrative you had told yourself over and over again until it became fact.

Nobody cared. Nobody noticed. And nobody ever would.

But now, the cracks in that truth were splintering wide open, and it hurt more than you thought it would. Every frantic message, every unanswered call, every agonizingly real expression of fear—they were like tiny daggers, cutting away at the lie you'd built to protect yourself.

You were wrong. Completely, utterly, heartbreakingly wrong.

This wasn't how it was supposed to go. You weren't supposed to be here to see this. You weren't supposed to witness the aftermath. You weren't supposed to feel this unbearable mix of regret and confusion.

You didn't want to die. Not really.

And you weren't supposed to.

The realization hit like a tidal wave, the weight of it crashing down all at once. The noise of your thoughts drowned out everything else—the pounding of your heart, the quick, shallow breaths you didn't realize you were taking. It was all a mistake. A terrible, irreversible mistake.

Your surroundings blurred as you stumbled forward, your body moving on autopilot. Before you even realized what was happening, you found yourself in the living room, the soft flicker of the television pulling you out of your spiraling thoughts.

The room was dim, the glow from the TV stretching across the walls and furniture in uneven patterns. The hum of the screen was the only sound breaking the silence, and the air felt heavier here, like it was pressing down on you.

Your eyes moved to the screen, and you froze.

There it was.

Your school picture.

Your face, staring back at you, bright and sharp, unnervingly lifelike in contrast to the hollow ache growing in your chest. Seeing it felt like a punch to the gut, like someone had taken everything inside you and twisted it into something unrecognizable.

You barely registered the voice of the news anchor, speaking over the image in that detached, professional tone that made your stomach churn.

"High school student Y/N L/N was found—"

The words stopped suddenly as the screen went dark. The TV turned off, leaving the room shrouded in silence once again.

Someone had turned it off.

The darkness disappeared in a flash of blinding light as you jolted awake, your chest heaving with desperate, gasping breaths. It was as though the air had been sucked out of the room, leaving nothing but a suffocating weight pressing against your lungs. You couldn't breathe.

Your body felt damp, your skin clammy with cold sweat that clung to every inch of you like a second layer. The sheets beneath you were twisted and soaked, tangled around your legs as if they'd been fighting to hold you down. The heat of your panic mingled with the chill of the sweat, leaving you trembling uncontrollably.

Your heart pounded like it was trying to escape, every beat so loud and erratic it drowned out the faint hum of the ceiling fan above. It was everywhere—in your chest, in your throat, in your ears, threatening to burst out of you entirely.

Your hands clawed at the sheets, desperate to anchor yourself to something solid as your mind raced to catch up with the sudden shift from nightmare to reality. The dream—if you could even call it that—lingered like a shadow, so vivid it didn't feel like a memory at all but something that had truly happened.

Your throat burned, a dry, aching sensation that made swallowing feel impossible. You tried to suck in a breath, but it came out shallow and shaky, as if your body didn't trust the air around you.

Then, with a surge of instinct, you shot up.

The movement was so abrupt that the room spun around you, the blurred outlines of your furniture and the faint slivers of light from the window smearing together in dizzying streaks. Your stomach twisted violently, and for a moment, you thought you might throw up.

Your hands flew to your chest, clutching at the fabric of your damp shirt like it might somehow keep your heart from breaking free. Each breath was a battle, shallow and uneven, like you were still fighting to wake up fully.

The silence of the room was deafening now, a stark contrast to the chaos inside you. No news anchors, no voices, no TV glow—just the dull hum of the fan, creaking with its every turn. It felt wrong, too quiet, as though the room itself was holding its breath alongside you.

Your eyes darted around, searching for something—anything—that could ground you, but everything looked the same as it had before you closed your eyes. The same ceiling, the same walls, the same nightstand with its faintly glowing alarm clock. Yet, none of it felt right. None of it felt real.

The realization hit slowly, like a distant wave building strength as it rolled closer. You were awake.

It was just a dream.

A nightmare.

But your heart refused to believe it, pounding and twisting like it knew something you didn't.

Your breaths began to even out, though your chest still felt tight, like the remnants of the panic were gripping you by the ribs. You blinked, your surroundings slowly coming into focus. But something was off—this wasn't your room.

The posters on the walls weren't yours, the fairy lights strung haphazardly across the ceiling weren't yours, and the faint smell of lavender mixed with vanilla in the air was distinctly not yours. You scanned the room, confusion clouding your mind until it clicked.

Vada's room.

You remembered now—the sleepover. It was Saturday. The fog in your brain started to lift, and the pieces began to fit together. The dream wasn't real. None of it was.

At the foot of the bed, Vada sat cross-legged, her arms propped on her knees, her face lit up with the kind of mischievous smirk she always wore when she thought she was being particularly clever. She looked far too awake, like she'd been sitting there for hours, waiting for the exact moment your eyes would snap open.

She raised an eyebrow, her smirk widening into a sly grin. "Wet dreams?" she asked, her voice dripping with mockery as she leaned forward slightly, clearly relishing the opportunity to tease you.

You stared at her, still trying to pull yourself fully out of the haze of the nightmare and into reality. Her casual, almost playful tone felt like a slap in the face compared to the gut-wrenching intensity of what you'd just experienced.

"I—" Your voice came out raspy, cracking on the first word. You cleared your throat and glared at her, but the redness creeping up your neck betrayed you. "Shut up, Vada."

She let out a laugh, tilting her head back dramatically as though you'd just handed her the best material she'd heard all week. "Oh, c'mon! You can't just wake up looking like that and not expect me to ask questions."

You groaned, dragging your hands down your face. "I hate you." You muttered, feeling the last remnants of panic still clinging to you, but Vada's laughter quickly swallowed it up.

She burst into laughter, practically falling over herself with how much she was enjoying your discomfort. "Oh my God, you totally did have a dream like that, didn't you?"

Before you could respond, she launched herself at you, pinning you to the bed with the same unstoppable energy she always had. You could barely catch your breath as she started teasing you relentlessly.

"Was it about me? Was I in it? Tell meee," she demanded, her voice high-pitched with mischief as she started tickling you. Her fingers danced on your sides, making it impossible to stop the laughter that erupted from your chest.

You squirmed beneath her, gasping for air as you tried to push her off, but she was way too strong, and you were already out of breath from the sudden onslaught.

"Stop!" you pleaded, but it only made her laugh harder, her fingers finding every sensitive spot on your body.

"Tell me! I need to know!" Vada practically shouted, her grin wide as she dug her fingers into your ribs. You couldn't control your laughter, your body shaking as you tried to wriggle out of her grasp, but it was no use.

The weight of everything you'd just dreamt about—the nightmare that had felt so real—began to fade, dissipating into the background as Vada's chaotic energy filled your senses. The harsh memory of panic and fear started to blur, replaced by the sounds of her teasing, the warmth of her body pressing against yours, and the simplicity of just being here, in her room, laughing despite yourself.

It was like all the weight of everything you'd felt—the desperation, the hopelessness—had suddenly lost its grip. You found yourself smiling, genuinely smiling, for the first time in what felt like forever. The laughter that had started as a reaction to Vada's teasing transformed into something more.

You realized, in that moment, that life wasn't a burden. It was messy and complicated, full of pain and confusion, but there was something else, too. Something worth sticking around for. Maybe it was the way Vada laughed, or how her teasing, though relentless, felt like a reminder of the bonds you still had. The world, your world, wasn't done with you yet.

It's easy to forget, when you're lost in the darkness, that there's always a way out. That no matter how much the weight of everything pulls you down, there's always something, someone, ready to help you stand again.

People care. Even when it doesn't feel like it, there's always someone who would miss you if you were gone. Life isn't just about surviving—it's about being. And being means you have a chance to change, to grow, to find purpose, even in the smallest moments.

The things you felt in your darkest moments—the belief that no one cared, that you didn't matter—were lies, and you were starting to see that. There's always a purpose. There's always something to keep you going, even if you can't see it right now.

You might not know what your purpose is today, or tomorrow, or the next day, but it's out there. And you'll find it, slowly, piece by piece. You don't have to have it all figured out, but that's okay.

And even on the days when the darkness threatens to swallow you whole, remember this: your story isn't over. You are so much more than the darkest moments of your life. You are worthy of love.

You are worthy of peace. You are worthy of happiness, and you have every right to live, to find joy, and to keep fighting, even when it feels impossible.

You don't have to do it alone. You're never truly alone. There's always someone waiting to help you see the light again.

And no matter how many times you falter, it's never too late to rise again.

#jenna ortega x reader #mabel x reader #tara carpenter #tara carpenter x reader #vada cavell x reader #wednesday addams x reader #melissa barrera x reader #sam carpenter #ask #sam carpenter x reader

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