#time to go back to the writing mines... praying my laptop holds out | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

simpsiren · 4 years ago

Text

the deformed all-rounder;

lee donghyuck x reader

At first glance, you would think that he’s just the class clown. If you’ve never seen him out of class, that would be your only perception of him. But in truth, he’s one of the most well known guys in school. Part of Dream, he’s always the talk of almost everyone’s day— everyday. But not mine. I see nothing more than an arrogant, playful and annoyingly confident guy who wants nothing to do with the rest of the school other than his friends, but girls are constantly falling on their knees for him and I can never understand why. But like any other seemingly perfect student who’s living the life, they were bound to be rough around the edges, some edges digging deeper than others.

genre. angst, fluff, strangers to friend to lovers, an extreme slowburn

warnings. none!

word count. 15.3k~

description. I never wanted to get involved with him. I never liked him from the start. His presence in class has always made my eyes roll due to his nature that I just never seem to be fond of like the rest of the school. Personal problems led us to meeting in detention. But when Haechan could have possibly slipped out something he shouldn’t have, and our instances of meetings got more often, coincidental or not, as much as I couldn’t tolerate that unique nature that sets me into flames of anger, the world has its ways of bringing us together regardless. And my curiosity got me to know that there was much more to him than what meets the eye.

!as they should masterlist!

My eyes stared at my laptop screen, which only showed the five sentences I’ve typed out long minutes ago. My fingers couldn’t bring themselves up to type on the keyboard. Even if it did, it’ll simply hover above them for minutes as my mind remainded blank. I wasn’t able to think of anything to write. How was I able to type those five sentences when I didn’t even have a rough plot to go off by?

I was sitting alone in the quiet morning. I was able to get the keys to unlock the classroom since I’ve always been one of the little few that comes by very early in the morning. Silence made itself comfortable, the sound of the wind softly blowing in from the windows. Nothing came to mind. No ideas, no plot, no inspiration— nothing. Why wasn’t I able to write? I’ve faced such days when my brain would malfunction since I simply wasn’t in the mood. That was the case for most days. Today’s definitely not like that. Today was new. It’s not that I wasn’t in the mood, I just had no motivation. Why’s that? Since I didn’t have an idea. And who did I have to blame that for? No one but myself. And that’s what I didn’t like, not having to know the root cause of my inability to write.

I’ve tried to suppress my frustration, telling myself “It’s fine. Think deeper. You’ll find something to write. Just think.” But that sliver of encouragement was of no use at all as the inner voices of my self-disappointment popping up and attacking my confidence in every corner, and that was all I could think about. I instantly slammed my laptop shut, groaning out loudly and grabbing my hair. I leaned forward, elbows supporting my upper body as I balled fists in my hair. I took deep breaths in an attempt to stay calm. It worked, but I assumed it’ll only be for a short while.

I closed my eyes, thinking of them resting them awhile after being blinded by the screen’s light for almost an hour. Just then, I heard footsteps walking by. Instinctively, I looked up to the windows on the right hand side of the classroom that allowed us to see the hallway. Someone walked past. I couldn’t figure out who it was. It’s a guy. What seemed to be the only thing that stood out in the darkness was his somewhat bright orangey brown hair. Other than that, it was just his dark figure walking past. I glanced down on my phone. I still had thirty minutes till the school turned on the lights. Who is he and what was he doing here so early? From what I know, no one in this building comes to school early other than me.

I let out a sigh, shaking my head. For a moment I thought I had seen a ghost. But, I don’t believe in such things. The possibility was there though. Either way, I slid my laptop back into its leather case and placed it under my table. I waited in silence as I pressed my palm on my cheek, looking out the window. The trees swayed camly in the wind, the sun yet to rise and so the light that shined on the trees and school field gave off a grey hue. The sound of birds chirped softly in the distance. I slowly put my eyes to rest, as well as my brain before I get back to fighting another tiring day of school and making myself suffer even more by coming up with something to write, as well as other stressful things regular students go through.

I snapped back to reality once my classmate strolled in. So the day has started and I wasn’t able to enjoy the peacefulness of the morning any longer. It went by as usual. With the help of my friends making me laugh through each one hour class, I was able to keep myself fully awake. Then came History. The few subjects I liked most, but also hate. It wasn’t the subject’s fault, but the teacher’s. I had a strong dislike towards the way Mister Low taught History. I much rather preferred Miss Jenkins. But she only ever came to class as a relief teacher if Mister Low wasn’t around. To which was why I always prayed that something would happen to him so he wouldn’t have to clock into class. Luck wasn’t on my side today.

I said goodbye to all my other friends, taking my History materials and moving over to the classroom next door since the rest of my friend group took Geography, which I had zero interest in.

Mister Low barely thought us anything today. We were simply only told to write essays as time practice for our exam that wasn’t even coming in months time. I was hungry for content, to learn more about the topic that we were just barely a quater way done with. But he wasn’t giving any of it. I looked at the clock, thirty two more minutes. I glanced at my paper. I was already done with the essays, quickly pushing through it with the mentality of “Just get it done and other with.” That self-made motto was what got me through these three years. I then adverted my attention to Mister Low, who was sitting down at the teacher’s desk and typing away about who knows what, teacher things I guess.

The classroom was silent. And obviously it wasn’t because we were well behaved. I turned around, scanning my eyes over the classroom. Everyone was doing anything else but the task to be completed at hand. Majority were on their phones. They didn’t even bother hiding, their phones all out in the open on the table. Some were even holding their phones high up with their elbows on the table. The rest were either sleeping, drawing, or listening to music on their wireless earpieces.

I puckered my lips. My eyes shot to one person that caught my eye. Lee Donghyuck. Or what everyone else calls him by, Haechan. No one has called him by his real name before. Even the teachers call him Haechan. He was at the back, the farthest row of tables. His bright brown hair stood out to me. Was he the one I saw this morning?

Haechan was talking with some others at the back. They were having their own little group session, only their voices were being heard in the silent classroom as they huddled up. I faced back to the front but immediately turned around and glared when Haechan’s loud laughter spreaded across the room. Why wasn’t anyone bothered by them? How could anyone be fine with the fact that their annoying chatters and laughter constantly disrupted the class’s peace?

“Oi! Mister Low!” Haechan voiced out, making everyone, and I mean everyone, even the ones that are usually in their deepest sleep, turn their heads in sync to face Haechan. Mister Low lifted his eyes off his screen. “Yes?” He questioned with a tilted head. Haechan stood up from his seat and slowly made his way to the teacher’s desk, fingers interlocked behind him as he casually stride down the gap between the row of tables. He bounced on the balls of his feet slightly with each step.

“Can we get released early?” Haechan’s question made everyone turn their heads to each other and exchanged looks. “What is he thinking?” “Will he actually let us go?” “It’s Haechan. Let him do his thing.” Those are what I envisioned the students telepathically saying to each other. I however was shaking my head. There Haechan goes again. Being the all teacher’s pet and horning his ability to take advantage of each one of them, even the most strict ones. Mister Low was on the lenient side, the dumb lenient one to be specific— the pushover teacher.

“No. You still have twenty minutes. What would you guys do then?” Haechan laughed, clapping his hand once and keeping them clasped together in front of his chest. “It’s not like we’re getting off school grounds. Majority of us still have lessons after our late lunch. As you can see, all of us have already completed our essays. So I don’t see why you need to hold us any longer.” Haechan’s voice flowed in a formal and engaging way, just like an orator who can easily grab the interest of his audience. I scoffed and rolled my eyes. “I can’t belive he’s actually doing this.” I mumbled to myself.

This proposal was taken into consideration as Mister Low didn’t give a reply, but was looking up elsewhere thoughtfully. After a moment, he sighed in defeat, lazily swirling his hand in the air. “Okay, okay. Go. Put your essays here.” Mister Low called out to everyone.

No one even bothered to greet Mister Low. Or give in their essays. Everyone packed their bags as quickly as ever and ran out, desperate on getting out of this hell-hole of boredom. Haechan muttered a “Thank you, sir.” skipping back to his acquaintances and they all gave him a pat on the back. Mister Low has already exited. And I was the only one left sitting there, frozen in shock. How did he even get Mister Low to agree to that? All he had to say was a few sentences. The amount of persuasion he brought to the table was incredible. But I didn’t like it. He had good speaking skills, that I know. But he’s using it for the wrong reasons.

“Aren’t you leaving?” The familiar confident voice rang in my ear. Just when I was deep in my thoughts, I looked up, seeing Haechan standing in front of me as the rest walked past. This was the first time he’s ever spoken “Yeah.” I whispered. It was also the first time I’ve ever spoken to him. I stood up, blinking twice. I gathered my things and made a run for the door. I would never want to talk to him again. Just from his voice I could tell he was annoyingly confident, a feature that is commonly seen from those popular guys in rom-com movies. He wasn’t a bad boy per say, just... over the top stuck up.

I got back to classroom after walking around school for the rest of the minutes. I didn’t have to do that if Haechan hasn’t released the class early. I had nothing to do. I could just stayed in class if it weren’t for Haechan. “You look dead.” Yiung said, coming up from behind and placing a hand on my shoulder. I dropped down to the floor after placing my materials on the table, covering my head with my arms. I was completely brain drained at that point. “History shot me flat out.” I replied, my voice muffled.

“Are you staying here for lunch again?” I felt a presence beside me. I lifted my head up, seeing Mina squatting down while Yiung had her arms folded. I hummed in response. Mina placed a hand on my back, rubbing it up and down slowly. “It’s okay. I’ll get you gummies to eat during Biology.” Mina reassured me. She stood up and called out to Yiung, the both of them waving at me and sending me mental support as they left.

I was sitting at my study table, completed homework neatly stacked and pushed off to the side. The only thing left in front of me was my laptop, opened and glaring at me with its bright screen despite setting the brightness down to its lowest. My eyes never left the blank screen, an empty white simply looking back at me as it waited to be loaded with words. As much as I tried squeezing out every idea I had, I realised that it was all too boring. Too cliche, too predictable. It wouldn’t stand out like my other works do if I were to publish the piece of writing.

I glanced at the time shown on the bottom right of the screen. 6:05AM. I could get ready and head out now. I did stay up all night, but I took a nap immediately after coming home and ended waking up at eleven. My sleep schedule is all over the place. I lifted myself off my chair, turning my body here and there to stretch out my back and arms, instantly making my way to the bathroom.

I entered the school, greeting the security guard as he handed me the classroom keys. I placed my index finger through the key ring, swirling it around as the keys made its sound while it dangled and moved around. Just when I was about the enter the building to my classroom, I paused in my tracks. A familiar figure stood in front of another security guard. With squinted eyes, I went forward and pushed open the door.

“Hey.” I said, not directing it to a specific person. They didn’t respond and instead kept their stare on each other, which made me look at them weirdly. I shrugged and walked past them, slightly offended with their zero reaction. Due to the silence of the hallways, I was able to hear their conversation clearly, though they kept quiet the moment I came in.

“You aren’t suppose to do that. You’ll be reported to the principal. This is major.” The security guard lectured Haechan. “Honestly, I don’t care. Do what you want. I’ll settle it my own way.” I heard Haechan’s footsteps coming. Fast. He was storming. And in a matter of seconds, he was ahead of me, going a few more classes down, unlocking his classroom and furiously swinging open the door, disappearing out of my sight.

My steps to class got slower, my eyes not wanting to leave the opened door of Haechan’s classroom. Questions began circling in my head. What were they talking about? What is Haechan hiding that he had to keep it a secret from anyone who walked past them? Something major?

I took out my laptop from its leather case, turning it on and heading over to Google Docs. The stress of not having anything written settled in, but it somehow got overpowered by my thoughts and curiosity about Haechan’s situation. It was suspicious. Haechan talked to the security in a completely different manner. He was normally seen as the sun of the school. Bright, cheerful, always happy and living the life. But I felt the coldness of his words. It was so hard-hitting that I could feel it from when I was walking to class.

“Honestly, I don’t care. Do what you want. I’ll settle it my own way.” I shivered, closing my eyes and shaking my head. He was rough and harsh with his words. I was still shocked by it. However, as I looked at my screen again, something clicked in my head. I slowly brought my fingers up to the keyboard, they hovered above them for a moment before I began to type.

Major. Possibility of being reported by the principal. Keys...

I clicked on the period key at least twenty times before finally ending it with a question mark. I exhaled sharply, leaning forward against the table and allowing my elbows to support my upper body as I interlocked my fingers together and allowing my chin to rest on them. Why couldn’t I stop think about it? What was it that struck out so much that I couldn’t shake it off? It wasn’t even my business so why was I eager to find out?

“Wait.” I whispered. I thought about how this gave me the opportunity to come up with something. Thiller, mystery type of story. I’ve never written in that genre before, mostly being romance and fantasy. But Haechan’s suspicions behaviour moments ago peaked my interest. I could write something about that. I’ll use what I heard as guidance. I didn’t have an exact plot. Nor was I fully settled and happy with the idea, but I’d still be able to write the introduction with this mystery.

My fingers began typing away, faster than ever. The satisfaction of hearing the keyboard made its sound while I quickly pressed on each key. I was feeling that adrenaline to complete the introduction before the start of class. Something in me apparently fueled. But it wasn’t my motivation. I was simply typing. I didn’t feel anything. Aren’t writer suppose to be emotionally drawn and attached to their own book? It’s as if I’m writing to simply put words on paper without any other agenda, staying in the stagnant state of nothingness.

Later that day, I was met with the dreadful History class yet again. It’s the only lesson I had this week so might as well “Just get it done and over with.” I mumbled to myself as I made my way to the classroom next door. Everyone was doing their own things. Once again Haechan’s group of acquaintances were at the back chatting as loudly as ever. I call them acquaintances since I’ve only ever seen them hang out with Haechan during History. Other than that, Haechan doesn’t give a damn about anyone, besides the other Dream members.

I rolled my eyes and sat down at my table. Seconds later, Mister Low came in. We greeted him and sat back down. “So class today we’ll be doing another time practice after I go over some key point. I’ll be handing out the essay questions now. You’ll have to complete by the end of class.”

“You can’t be fucking serious.” I growled lowly, watching him handing out the papers to the first row in front. As he headed to my row I couldn’t help but feel the anger rising up in me. We aren’t actually going to be doing this right? When the student in front of me handed me the papers, I took one off the stack and passed it on to the back. My eyes looked down it. In annoyance, I scrunched it up in my hands, now smashing it to a small ball in my palm.

More than half an hour has already passed. He’s taking forever to go through the things that we learned, despite it not being a lot. I furiously pushed myself off my seat, the loud noise getting everyone’s eyes and attention on me. I looked down, teeth gritting as I tried taking in a deep breath before looking back up to Mister Low, who gave me a blank expression as his eyes travelled from the crumpled paper in my hand and back to me.

“I’m not doing this shit. What the hell have you been doing, Mister Low? You are barely giving us any content to learn and study. We’ve been doing time practices for weeks. I get that it’s important, but we aren’t even halfway done with chapter seven. Not to mention that we still have chapters eight, nine and ten to finish by the end of the fucking year!”

I was breathing heavily now. My arms were stiff and my stare on him fired with fury was intense. “Fuck your time practices.” I simply said, not giving a flying care about my consequences at that moment, throwing the crushed up paper past Mister Low and into the dustbin behind him. I ran a hand through my hair, turning around and seeing how everyone had mixed expressions. Shocked, satisfied, scared? Most probably all of the above. Haechan however had the widest smirk on his face. I swung my head back to Mister Low.

“I’m gonna have to give you detention for that, Miss _____.” I scoffed loudly, folding my arms and cocking up a brow, the corner of my lip lifting up ever so slightly to a smirk. “Do it. Give me hours of detention. More of your stupid practices. But you better teach this class something before I report you to the principal about how much you suck.”

Just like it was on cue, the school be rang, signalling that class had ended. I jerked my head slightly at Mister Low as I packed my things, everyone doing the same and rushing out.

“The fuck did you do?!” Lucas sat down beside me at the lunch table. Yiung and Mina were completing homework last minute and being the kind friend, I fed them chips whenever they opened their mouths for it. “You’re so busted.” Mina muttered, shaking her head in disappointment. “I shouldn’t be laughing oh God I’m sorry.” Lucas tried to suppress his laughter but wasn’t able to achieve it for even one second, bursting out laughing so loud. I slammed my hand palm down on the table.

“Someone had to do it! We can’t just be writing essays forever. We needed to learn the content but the idiot refuses to even do it. How’s that being a good teacher?” I angrily spoke, seeing Yiung opening her mouth wide. I shoved a chip in her mouth as she hummed in satisfaction. Lucas glanced down at his phone. “You’ll be getting the notice for detention in nine minutes.”

“Oh by the way...” Lucas started. I turned my head to him while Yiung and Mina still had their heads down, but their ears wide open. “I got some tea on Haechan.” A big mischievous smirk crept up his face, giggling ever so softly. I tilted my head and widened my eyes. Could this be related to what happened this morning? “Spill.” I said in a firm tone. Lucas nodded, leaning in close to me as his shoulders raised up till his ears. “I heard that this morning Haechan was seen with the principal in his office. I’m not sure what it’s about, but it must be serious since no one’s talking about Haechan today.”

Mina gasped loudly and lifted her head up from her worksheet. She pointed her pen to Lucas and nodded her head vigorously with affirmation. “You’re right! The fact that no one had talked about Haechan today weirded me out so much! What I’m most shocked about is that no girls had even approached him today.” Mina whispered, joining in on the conversation as well and leaving her incomplete homework.

I furrowed my eyes. That was indeed weird, and very out of the ordinary. I would always see girls gathered outside of Haechan’s classroom, waiting desperately for him to walk out and chasing him to shower him with gifts and presents. Most girls used that chaotic situation to confess to him, knowing very well that the answer from him would be a flat out “No.” I still don’t know why they even bother despite knowing the outcome. It’s as if every girl in this school has fallen under some kind of spell that make them act like vampires wanting to suck the life out of the unbothered Haechan. It’s ridiculous and immensely dumb. Explains why I don’t have that any other girl friends than Yiung and Mina.

“Is it weird that I want to know what’s going on with him?” I questioned awkwardly. Lucas shrugged. “I guess that’s just your journalist side of you showing.” He simply replied. “Why did you quit writing the school’s newspaper when you are still going to write books? It’s the same thing.” I let out a disappointing sigh. “What you write about is different, Mina. How many times do I have to explain it to you guys.”

Suddenly the cafeteria that was loud and rowdy seconds ago has been put to silence instantly. All of us turned our head to the doors. It swung open, revealing the Dream. The school’s normal reaction would be to swoon over each one of them and having a fangirl session as they across their area. As cliché as that sounds, it is what usually happens. However, as expected due to the new information I acquired from Lucas, no one gave a single reaction to them, Instead, their eyes followed them warily with each step they took. They were quick to grab their food and leave. If the pin drop silence wasn’t enough, the atmosphere changed completely too. It was cold and deadly, as if a serial killer who kept us hostage just came waltzing in.

The moment they left, whispers and murmurs filled the room. The four of us looked back at each other, exchanging unrecognizable looks. “That was...”

“Interesting.”

After lunch, I was notified to head to the detention room once I ended school. I found it unexplainable. I screamed at the teacher and basically called him useless and this is what I get? Just detention? I mean I’m glad I didn’t have to do anything more, but I also thought about just how poorly this school manages its students, settling every problem with clearing up detentions hours. Any student could walk in with an empty mind and come out the exact same. It made no difference.

I stepped in, only one teacher I was unfamiliar with sat at the teacher’s desk. I assumed she was only here for detention since I’ve never seen her around before. And because this was my first time in detention. She didn’t bother looking at me and instantly jerked her head to the tables, urging me to sit. I raised a brow. What else was I going to do?

I picked a seat, fully out of random. “Uh excuse me?” I asked, trying to sound polite as I pulling my chair in. The teacher looked up at me, her eyes narrowed with her eyes furrowed. “What?” She asked back with a rude tone. I arched one of my eyebrows in a questioning look. “Can I use my laptop?”

“Do whatever you want.”

I breathed a quiet laugh and nodded my head. “Well that was easy.” I whispered to myself. I took my laptop out of my bag and turned it on after placing it on the table. While waiting for it to start up and keying in my password, the door opened. I simply thought it was just another student who had detention. However, I could already tell from how their footsteps sounded that it wasn’t just any student.

“Haechan. Nice seeing you here.” I looked up from the keyboard. I noticed how the woman flashed a bright smile as Haechan bowed his head slightly and making his way over to the tables. “I’m only here for an hour, right?” He asked, as if I wasn’t sitting in between their conversation. The woman hummed happily. “Yes, of course. It’s what I can do to repay you for your hard work.”

Haehan chuckled. “I’m glad.” He decided to take the seat next to mine, placing his bag on the chair and sitting down. He then turned to me, having a wide smile till his eyes formed a thin line. “Nice seeing you here. Care telling me how you ended up here?” Haechan questioned me in a playful manner. I took my eyes off him and to my screen, proceeding to head to Google Docs are per usual. I heard Haechan let out an exasperated sigh. “Nice meeting you too.” He muttered.

Only a few minutes of silence have passed and the woman has already left the room since she had “personal matters.” to attend to, which left the room completely unattended and unsupervised. I assumed that she wouldn’t be coming back either. While I was thinking of how to continue my writing, I looked over to Haechan, who’s taking out a very large and full pencil case along with a stack of paper that had a very small grid. It looked like one of those papers that neat girls used for their notes to make it look aesthetic.

He proceeded to open his pencil case and fished out for something. It was a felt tip pen. Or a calligraphy pen. I couldn’t exactly tell. He leaned forward and started writing on the paper. Seconds later, he took out a textbook from his bag. I noticed it was the History textbook.

“What are you doing?” I asked, suddenly getting curious the moment he took out the History textbook. He raised both his eyebrows, staring at me for a moment before lifting the textbook up slightly. “Making notes.” He replied very simply. I peeked over at his table, his other notes were scattered around. I was indeed impressed. “They’re... pretty.” I complimented awkwardly. Haechan chuckled. “Want to buy one?”

“Excuse me?”

“Eight dollars per paper. But the cost vary depending on the topic and subject.”

“What the hell are you saying?”

Haechan turned his body to have me, his arm resting on the back of his chair as he gave me an unimpressed expression. “I’m selling you my notes. What else?” He asked dryly, rolling his eyes and paying his attention back down to his notes. I blinked my eyes twice, trailing them from the notes and back to Haechan. What was he even doing? “You sell your notes...?” I asked softly. Haechan nodded firmly. “Indeed, I do.”

“So do you want one or not?” “No.” I replied quickly, turning back to the front to focus on my writing.

Nothing else could be heard other than the typing of my keyboard, Haechan dropping his many pens on the table constantly as he switched between them every second and Haechan tapping his feet to unrecognizable beats as he listened to music on his Airpods. As I continued on with my writing, I realised that I’ve come to the part where the character had to know the truth about what actually happened, or in this reality, what actually happened to Haechan.

I looked over to him, he was flipping through another textbook now, getting ready to write another set of notes. I reached out, poking him on his shoulder with my index finger. He raised both his brows and took off one side of his Airpods. “Hm?” He asked questionably. “I have to know why you’re here.”

“You mean what got me into detention?” I nodded my head. Haechan took in a deep breath, letting a loud and lazy sigh escape his lips. “Everyone’s curious about that. Not just you. What right do you have to gain special access to know the truth?” I brought my head back, my mouth gaping slightly as my face went blank. That was true. I had no right. Everyone was curious about it too. It may not be seen in the hallways, especially when Haechan walks by. But rumors have been spreading behind closed doors.

“People are talking about you.” Haechan scoffed, leaning back into his chair. “Of course they are. It’s an everyday thing.” I furrowed my brows, surprised at just how delusional he was being. “I meant that people are spreading rumors about you. I get that you’re the it-boy of school or whatever you’d call it. But I don’t think you realise that your reputation is slowly going down the drain.”

I paused for a moment, tilting my head a few angles down as a small smile, which later grew into a more satisfied one as I slowly watched Haechan being thrown off guard by my words. “I also happened to hear you talking with that security guard about the classroom keys.” I was now smirking, my eyes never leaving his. “It’s not even a big deal.” I huffed loudly. “Must be if the principal’s involved.”

Haechan glanced at the door, he was suddenly acting cautious and wary, as if someone would jump out to get him if he didn’t keep his eyes on the door. “They found out that I got stole a spare of classroom keys.” Haechan blurted out. I puckered my lips and nodded, bringing my hands back to the keyboard to record his words. “What the fuck? Are you some reporter?”

“No but I need to type this down. Could say it’s a habit. I used to write the school’s newspaper afterall.” Haechan arched a brow. “So you’re planning to tell this to the newspaper team?” I gave a half-shrug, shaking my head. “I quit two months ago. I thought you knew. It was in the newspaper.”

“I don’t read them.”

“Because you’re sick of seeing your face in it every week?”

“Could say that again.” I chuckled lightly. “I just need it for inspiration on a story I’m writing. Anyways, continue.” Haechan gave me a skeptical look, eyeing me up and down with suspicion before pinching his temples. “I didn’t exactly stole them. I made them.” His words made me widened my eyes. “H-How?” I stuttered, purely curious and somewhat amazed at the same time.

“Chenle brought a 3D printer once. It could copy and make the exact replica of anything. I simply used it to make a spare key just so I can come here whenever I wanted to.” Haechan inhaled quietly. “But they also found out I used that method to gain access to other things... That’s as far as I want say.” For some reason, instead of freaking out, I sat there in silence, staring at him as I couldn’t move an inch. I didn’t know how to react. “That’s... Wow.” No matter how hard I tried to find words to say, those were the only two that came to mind.

“If you use it for other things, why aren’t you getting a more severe punishment? We’re literally just serving detention hours when I thought I’d be doing community service for talking shit about Mister Low.” Haechan chuckled lowly, running a hand through his soft-looking hair. “You nit not worry about that.”

“What do you mean?” I whispered. “Mister Low is about to get fired since the other students in our History class are complaining to other teachers about how you’re right and that he really couldn’t teach. Word gets around in the teachers’ office and so.” Haechan bobbed his shoulders, not needing to complete to full sentence as I already got the memo. “And I have my own ways for settling my problems.” He was saying the same thing he said to the security guard that morning. “How, exactly?”

“The world is tipped in favour of the rich and powerful. Don’t you think?” Haechan smirked widely along with a giggle. “You use money to get what you-”

“Calm down. I was just joking. I wanted to make your story more interesting.” Haechan laughed. He began packing his things up, slinging his bag on one shoulder. “My time here is up so ciao.” Haechan said in an instant, as if wanting to get away as fast as possible while trying to look casual. He walked away, lifting a hand up and waving it while using the other to open the door and left. The room was met with utter silence. “What the hell just happened?”

For the rest of the day I couldn’t help but wonder if his words were true. What else could he have done with 3D printer? What if it was something more than just replicating classroom keys? He said it was just to help with my writing, but what if it was actually true?

I never got Haechan out of my mind as I took reference from the points I’ve taken down while he talked to me for my writing. It helped, nonetheless. I had a flow of a proper plot. However, I was not fully satisfied with it. The way Haechan structured his words were weird, the possibility that there’s more to it got glued to my mind and was the main topic of my thoughts every day.

One afternoon, I chose to stay back at the library to do my assignments. I had the sudden motivation to be productive at school. While making my way there, I passed by a dark corner. I stopped in my tracks and walked back, as for a split second I thought I had seen a shadow of some sort. Indeed, I was right. Two people were standing there to be exact. I was all too familiar with one of their figures, noticing that it was Haechan. The other I assumed to be a regular student. They stood at the furthest end of the dark hallway. Anyone could have walked past and not realise anything. I hid myself behind the wall, my head peeking out just a little that only my eyes could be seen.

“I need more.” I heard the student beg. Haechan folded his arms, weight shifting from one leg to the other. “Can’t do. You’re lucky you bought my notes. It should be enough for the test.” Haechan whispered, leaning in towards him. The student looked down at the plastic bag, eyes staring at it for a moment before slowly trailing them up to meet Haechan’s. The student let out a defeated sigh, holding the bag up in front of him. “Pleasure doing business with you.” He bid Haechan goodbye, shoving one hand into his pocket while letting the bag hang on the index finger of his other hand that fell down to his side. With a leaned back posture, he slowly made his way out of the hallways. With quick and brisk steps, I speed walked forward, turning a corner and hiding there till he walked past.

I decided to stay there, cautious as to whether Haechan was about to walk past as well. However, I heard his footsteps, but they weren’t coming to my direction. I peeked my head out of the corner once again, this time a little further with confidence of him not coming my way. Haechan was walking towards the opposite direction. I wasn’t sure what drew me into doing so, but I decided to follow him. Where I ended up was seemingly unexpected.

I was steps away from the door. Tilting my head upwards, I was met with the sign above the door. Music room. I’ve only been here once, to interview the student that was about to perform solo for a concert we had last year to showcase the performing art curriculum. I slowly made my way to the door, the window giving me a clear view of the room. I looked in, seeing Haechan sitting by the piano. His fingers hovered above the keys, just like how mine would float above the keyboard when I had no idea what letter to press. I couldn’t see his face due to his hair that covered till his eyes.

Either way, I gulped and placed my hand on the handle, pushing it down and going in while clearing my throat. Haechan shot his head up from the piano and to me with a blank expression. I quickly closed the door behind me and awkwardly placed the hand behind my head. “Hey. It’s our second time meeting.” Haechan greeted, letting his forearm rest on edge of the fall board, leaning his upper body. I hummed as I slowly sidled my way up to him. “It is.” I simply said.

“So why are you here? Did you follow me?” Haechan asked, tone filled to the brim with suspicion as he squinted his eyes on me. I opened my mouth, but words couldn’t come out. I wasn’t able to speak as I tried to come up with an excuse. “I- Uh was headed to the library when I walked past and saw you in here.”

“So? You have no reason to want to come in here.” Haechan replied dryly. I mentally rolled my eyes. I felt as if I couldn’t keep up a conversation with him without wanting to burst due to his rudeness. He had no reason to be this cold towards me. Does he always have to be like this?

“The libraries in the opposite block. Our classrooms aren’t even here.” Haechan breathed out, eyes scanning across the keys of the piano before shooting up to me. “What’s your actual reason coming here?” Haechan’s voice grew lower with each word till it became a faint whisper. His eyes were piercing into me deadly, as if I was meeting the grim reaper that’s about to take my soul. Once again I tried to speak but I couldn’t. Even if I did, I would be slurring through my words as I didn’t know myself why I chose to follow him here.

“I... I want to know more about you.” I blurted out. I wanted to give myself a smack in the head. I sounded too weird, like a stalker. I had millions of other ways to phrase that but I chose to be too straightforward. Haechan jerked his head, hissing when he puffed his chest up as he inhaled. “Do you like me?”

“What? No. Why would you even-” “You wouldn’t have followed me all the way here if you weren’t interested. This is the first time I’ve seen you having the urge to talk to me.” Haechan cocked an eyebrow in my direction, to which I responded with a loud huff of amusement. “My intention was to know what else you are doing with that 3D printer of yours for my story.” I stated, matter-of-factly. I ran a frustrated hand through my hair.

“You’re a writer. Aren’t you suppose to be creative?” I took a deep breath. Breathe, just breathe. I was actually about to explode like a volcano that was about to erupt at any second. Why did he have to be so hard to talk to? On instinct, I slammed my hand on the keyboard, the loud sound coming from the keys I pressed down pierced through my eardrums. “Listen. It’s getting really fucking annoying to talk to you. Answer my questions, and I won’t needing to see you again.”

Haechan had zero reaction to my words. It’s like he had a bullet proof screen in between us as I fired my words in anger. “Incorrect. We have another session of detention on Wednesday. Three hours to clear, and it’s just the two of us. Sounds fun, don’t you think?” My blood was boiling. With each second that passed, I bit my lower lip as I tried hard to not slap his face. “I highly doubt you’ll be a good enough student to attend anyways. Besides the damn point, just tell me what you’ve been doing with the printer.”

“You know some things should be kept private. Like I said before, you have no right to force it out of me.”

“But you were willing and gave me some information at that time.” I could tell in Haechan’s eyes that he was taken off guard, but he was able to skillfully bounced back. “Because I was kind enough to wanna help you with your writing.” At this point, we were constantly firing words at each in a matter of seconds. It was like a war zone, keeping our eye contact and never breaking it once, our voices growing higher with each comeback.

“You know what? Fuck it. I’ll find out myself. Since you’re unwilling to tell me anything at all, it must mean that you have something going on. I’ve already been suspicious of you from the start.” I stormed my way to the door. Forcefully grabbing onto the handle, I turned around sharply as I muttered a “Watch out.” before walking out and slamming the door shut. I needed to put the story on hold. I won’t give up till I find out what Haechan’s onto. I had to know, I just had to. To satisfy myself with solving a mystery that I unconsciously got myself into.

The very next day, I chose to get to school earlier than I normally would. If I wanted to discover what Haechan was doing, I had to be ahead of him. This was just the start.

When I reached my classroom, I looked down the hallway., my eyes slowly looking up to the sign of Haechan’s class and back down. Absentmindedly, I took small and wary steps, walking up to his class. I glued myself to the walls when I got there. My mind slowly began to wonder why was I even digging deeper into this trivial matter that wasn’t even any of business. Perhaps it was due to me not being able to complete the story myself, losing all my creativity in one go and I have yet to know why. Or was it perhaps because I was curious as to who Haechan was? I’ve only see Haechan as someone perfect to the eyes of society. It was only natural for him to not be perfect behind the shadows. Perhaps I wanted to know that he was human as well.

I peeked my head ever so slightly, just a few centimeters. I was quite shocked to see Haechan there, sitting at the back of the class. Just how early does this guy come to school? And for what? I saw another unfamiliar person stood next to him, hand on the edge of the table as he leaned forward. What I found to be the most weird and out of the ordinary was the fact that there was some kind of light being illuminated on the table. Due to the guy who was standing up, I couldn’t tell where the light came from. The dark classroom made this look a hundred time more eerie than I expected it to be.

“We need to do this quick.” I heard Haechan’s mutter. He was attempting to keep his voice down. He looked extremely cautious ad he kept looking out the window. I had to pull my head away and rely on my ears for information. He was too skeptical of his surroundings. “Chill. It’ll be done in ten minutes. You know how fast this baby works. When are you going to do it?” The other male spoke in a normal voice, which make Haechan groan and let out a loud “Shh.”

“Keep your fucking voice down. No one should be hearing about this. Especially her.” I heard the male scoff. “Ah that girl...” Was the last I’ve heard. I slowly peeked my head out once again. “Maybe after detention on Wednesday. I don’t know.”

“Well you better be quick.”

They were both looking at whatever was on the table. It was dark but the light coming form it didn’t help me recognise it at all. From what I could infer, it was probably a machine of some sorr, from the way the other male called it “baby”. Was it the 3D printer? I had no solid evidence that it was. What was Haechan going to do? I was indeed clueless. But was Haechan referring to me?

Throughout the school day, I had my eyes on Haechan the whole time, watching his every move. Where he went, what he did, who he talked to. I was all eyes and ears on him. He didn’t seem to be doing anything weird. And the school was back to normal too. Girls were back to screaming his name wherever he showed up, he was back to being the all-rounder student he was. I still doubt he was an all-rounder at all. Maybe a deformed one. A deformed all-rounder. Well, that was new.

“Sorry guys but I have to stay a little while to spy on Haechan. Head home without me.” I said to the gang as we walked down the hall, on our way to the main gates. Lucas stopped, making Yiung and Mina do the same. “If you get more information, you should tell it to the school’s press. Who knows? Your story on Haechan could be a hit.”

I thought about it for a second. And for awhile I was starting to consider. I could simply put the author and Haechan as anonymous. It’ll send the school to an uproar, desperately wanting to know the identities of the people involved. On top of that, I missed the feeling of investigating and trying to gather information. It was something I did often as a writer for the newspaper. It felt good to have that surge of constant curiosity as more factors come to play the more you find out, and more questions that had to be solved slither out.

“I actually might consider it.” I said, the side of my lip rising just a little. I sent them off to the main gate and waved them goodbye. One thing I instantly realised was that I completely missed Haechan. I forgot to keep track of him and now I didn’t know where he was. I groaned silently as headed back in school. The first place I checked was his classroom. Of course he wasn’t there. Lights turned off, door and windows locked. Not a single person on sight.

The next place I checked was the music room. Lord and behold, he was there. Again sitting by the piano. This time, he was scribbling onto what I assumed was a music sheet. He was doing it in a rather furious matter, which got me worried for second. Suddenly, Haechan threw the pencil on the floor, screaming at the top of his lungs and slamming his head on the piano. Out of pure shock and instinct, I opened the door and ran up to him.

“Are you okay?! Why the hell you do that?!” I sat down the the empty space beside him and held onto his cheeks to lif his face up. His eyes fluttered open slowly, my hands feeling the warmth of his cheeks. “And what are you doing here again?” He said in a tired and hoarse voice. His eyes trailed downwards to my hands. For some reason, I didn’t let go. My hands were still against his skin which felt extremely soft. Something about this made my heart skip a beat. Why was I feeling this way? That for a split second my hands cupped his face perfectly, like were meant to be there.

“Having fun keeping your hands there?” Haechan broke me out of my thoughts with his words. I quickly pulled away, rubbing my palms on my shirt awkwardly. “You seem to always show up and meeting me here.” I gulped, avoiding eye contact as I tried to look everywhere else but him. “You seemed to be stress.” I said, making a poor attempt at changing the topic. I could tell from his soft and short breath of laughter that he knew what I was doing, but decided to go along with it mumbling a, “Yeah. I was.”

“With what?” Haechan didn’t give an answer. He blankly stared down to his lap before smacking his lips and jerking his head up to the music sheet thatw as propped up. “Just like how you write stories. I write songs. And just like you, my brain does not want to function at all to come up with something.” Haechan sighed ever so softly.

Silence settled in the space between us. We were simply there, not a word exchanged as I let his sink in. Were we the same? Though I find that hard to believe, I felt it. His struggle. I could feel it from outside the room moments ago. Haechan slowly brought his fingers up to the piano. Starting to press a key, he began to play.

Though I wasn’t a piano player or an expert in any way, it didn’t take me long to realise that he wasn’t comfortable sitting on this very piano, like how his fingers weren’t meant to make contact with the surface of the white, lagging and messing up a few notes that made whatever he played sound improper. He was out of place. Yet, the produced a beautiful twenty or so seconds of music. Despite the slip-ups, it sounded amazing. But he wasn’t playing with feeling. He was emotionless, stagnant.

“That’s all I have.” Haechan chuckled weakly. I frowned. “It sounded fine.” I whispered softly, eyes not leaving his fingers that rest itself on the keys. “Fine, but not great. Not meaningful. I didn’t feel anything while playing that. And that’s the worst part of it.” Haechan was biting his lower lip. His eyes were being welled up with tears. He quickly wiped them away.

“Don’t cry. I’m not the type that knows how to comfort people.” I laughed softly, trying to joke around to lighten the mood. Haechan responded with a small laugh, making me smile with sincerity. “It’s fine.” He simply said.

“I get what you mean. I’ve been feeling that too. Got the general idea but never know where to go from there. The creativity’s run out and I’m left with nothing. I’ve lost the urge to do what I love most.” I fiddled with my fingers on my lap, head tilted down. The room got quiet instantly. We were just sitting there in silence, deep in thought as we let ourselves sink into our complicated yet somehow similar situations.

How did I even up here? Sitting down and having a deep conversation with Haechan. Why was I feeling the connection with him? The connection of similarity as we felt each other’s pain. How did it only take one observation of Hechan playing for me to see the emptiness and hole that dug around him? I came here wanting to know his hidden secrets, digging into his weird behaviour beyond the light that he always stood in. But I guess there were aspects of him that were more hidden, and he chose to show this side to me.

It’s funny how we opened up to each other, not knowing each other at all. We were practically strangers. People that we only see as we walked by very occasionally. We weren’t someone that would be engraved in our minds the moment we saw each other. But it probably gave us a sense of escape, thinking that it was better for us to open up to someone who barely knew us so they wouldn’t judge who we were. I guess that was more coherent for Haechan.

Our class was the first few to arrive at the cafeteria since our English teacher is one of the very few that releases us on time. I decided not to have lunch since I didn’t feel like eating. Or maybe I was but too lazy to get any food. Only a few hours of school have passed and I was already walking like a dying corpse on my way here. I looked down and used my phone, continuing the read the online book I just purchased recently.

Suddenly, a bunch of high pitched wailing and shouting was heard. I tilted my head up and followed the noise. I expected it. Haechan, walking into the cafeteria, confident as ever, owning it all. He had such a bright smile. It’s as if the deep and lost Haechan I saw just yesterday disappeared entirely, a simple ‘poof’ and it’s gone by the wind. He waved to his other friends at the table which was just a few tables apart of ours with excitement, walking with long strides. I couldn’t believe just how thick Haechan’s mask was. After seeing him yesterday, I couldn’t help but wonder so long how those two completely different sides of him become one in his being. It was hard to picture. It was such a drastic difference that it became too hard to visualise it in my head.

“Look at Jaemin being all flirty with her.” Mina came up from behind and gagged as she jerked her chin to the direction I was looking at. However, I adverted my focus from Haechan to Jaemin. A girl was standing very closely behind Jaemin, occasionally trailing her fingers in a teasing manner down his shoulders. Jaemin bobbed his shoulders, shooting a glare that luckily she didn’t notice. However, he turned around and quickly flashed a soft smile to cover up his annoyance towards her. His action made me laugh and chuckle softly. “I don’t think he’s enjoying it.”

“Just how can he look so normal after what he did? I still can’t believe it.”

“What are you talking about?”

I grew silent, not wanting to explain the situation I had with Jaemin. It was a far distant memory which should be kept out of my mind and away from me, something I wouldn’t have the courage to face. I was over it, but I’d never want to encounter it again. It’ll send me down the loophole again, and that is something I’d much prefer not to remember and go through again.

Lucas raised a brow. “Hello?” He asked, trying to get our attention. Mina cleared her throat after swallowing her bite of food. “Ah you weren’t here when it happened. It’s fine. We shouldn’t be talking about it.”

“It’s a story for another time.” I lied, blurting it out.

I looked down to my phone once again as the our table grew quiet and ate in peace. As if thrown an asteroid was thrown from space, an object went flying to the side of my head, hitting it hard. It didn’t hurt that much, but it was so sudden that I couldn’t help but wince from the attack. “What the hell was that?!” I half-shouted, my brows furrowed with confusion, scrunching up my face as I picked up the object that landed beside me.

Everyone had their heads up and towards me with looks of concern. “Are you okay?! What hit you?” Yiung brought her hand up to caress my head softly where it hit. I brought the object up to my face. “Pack of grapes...?” I whispered, blinking my eyes rapidly. I scanned my eyes around the area near me, wanting to know who threw it at me. Oddly enough, Haechan had his head poking out from the table. He was looking at me, and urging me to look at the grapes. I shot him a weird look and trailed my eyes down to the grapes. It had a note.

“Why aren’t you eating? You still have detention later. See you soon.” I read the small note that was taped to the plastic wrapper to myself, mumbling. I lifted my head up to Haechan, noticing that he was already back to talking to his friends happily, laughing away. “Who threw you that?” Mina asked. I stared at the note for a moment, reading over his words and imagining his voice. I shake my head and looked back to Mina. “Must be a secret admirer.” I joked. They didn’t have a big reaction to this and continued with what they were doing with a shrug. I didn’t want them to know that I was getting close to Haechan.

Either way, getting free snacks was always a bonus. I didn’t hesistate to open the wrapper and plopped a grape into my mouth. Throughout the rest of lunch while shoving a grape into my mouth immediately each time I swallowed one, my eyes were glued to Haechan. Though he wasn’t fully visible due to his other friends crowding around him, it was as if he’s the only one in my view, with everyone else fading away.

I hadn’t forgotten my agenda. I still had to know more about Haechan’s secret that was about to unfold after I remembered that he was going to do something after detention later. If it’s going go help me write my story, I’d want to know as much as possible.

I made my way to the detention room, lazily opening the door. Haechan was seating somewhere near the back, deeply concentrated with writing something and wearing his Airpods. I looked over to the woman who laid back in her seat as she played with her phone. I nodded my head as I took in the situation, walking up to sit beside Haechan.

“What are you doing?” I asked Haechan while sliding the straps of my bag off my shoulders and putting it on my lap, only to find Haechan not hearing me at all as he continuously nodded his head to whatever song he was playing. I reached out to poke him on the shoulder with my index finger, making him flinch at the sudden action and removing one side of his Airpods immediately. He leaned back as he realised that he was looking at me. “Oh you’re here.” Haechan smiled softly, proceeding to continue writing. I moved my head a little to notice that he was writing notes again.

“Selling more notes? What are you, an illegal business?” Haechan responsed with a chuckle, placing his pen down and facing his body to me. “Perhaps I am. It’s not like I can get caught though.” He shrugged and placed a fist to his cheek, resting his head against it and leaning sideways. “But what did you get caught for?” I copied his posture, sending him a cheeky smile.

Haechan scoffed and shake his head. “Can’t say. How many times do I need to drum it in your head?” Haechan threw a sharp glare my way, exasperated. “If you don’t tell me, at least help me with my story.” I said, unintentionally sounding desperate as a slight tone of begging shined through my words.

“You really have lost your creative touch, huh?” Haechan faked his amusement. He already knew that from the time we were in the music room. “And you can’t write your songs either. So you’ve lost it as well.” I smiled grew bigger and more mischievous, giggling ever so softly. “If you want, maybe you can use the 3D printer to print a world of your imagination. And when you finish making it, it becomes a real place for you to go and release yourself from reality.” Affer unlocking my laptop and waiting for it to start up, I looked to him after he said that, but his eyes and hands were concentrated on making his notes.

“Is it because that’s what you want to do?” I asked softly, opening up Google Docs and seeing my long paragraphs of nothingness. It meant nothing. They were simply words to be displayed on the screen. I read it over while I waited for Haechan’s answer. It was bland, nothing like the ones that I wrote with much enthusiasm and drive. It disappointed me how I could stoop this low to such a level, to the point where I was slowly loosing interest in what kept up my sanity all these years.

“Shouldn’t you be asking yourself that?” Haechan stared into my eyes, pausing for a moment. “It’s your book that you’re writing. You need to make it personal somehow. You can’t always be relying on me as your direct source of idea.” I thought about it, long and hard, his words resonating in my head again and again as I tried to force myself to think deeper. “What if I can’t make it personal? What if I don’t know what’s personal to me, I don’t know who I am...” My two fingers played with the touch pad of my laptop, scrolling up and down mindlessly.

“Use my idea as inspiration. What can happen when you build and enter that fantasy world made by a 3D printer?”

“The entrance collapses and I get trapped there forever.” Haechan smiled. It was a small, almost transparent, but sincere smile, painted on his face. “There you go. You have a conflict to write about now.” I instantly typed down the information in point form so that I could elaborate on it. As much as I got the energy and adrenaline to start writing now, I wanted to focus on another matter. For some reason, I just wanted to know.

“How’s your song doing?” He avoided my eyes, licking his lips, seeming to be deep in thought, trying to construct a sentence. “I’m thinking of abandoning it to be honest.” Haechan said in a nonchalant manner. He can’t actually not be bothered by it. I saw it. His frustration, stress, the negative energy that centered around him in the music too. He can’t actually want to do that.

“But it sounded good.”

“I just need a fresh start. Who knows, I might come up with something better... Hopefully.” He dragged on the last part slightly, the tint of of doubt flowed through his unstable voice. He sighed loudly, pressing his fingers on both sides of his temples. “I’d ask for your help, but I’m guessing you aren’t exactly creative in this art form.” I nodded my head agreeably, though I felt the embarrassment.

“We’re going to be stuck here for a long time.” I said with a bored sigh, dragging on the word ‘long’ for emphasis. Haechan laughed at my statement. “I don’t think we’d have to stay here long.” I turned my head to him, an eyebrow arched. “Why’s that?”

Haechan pulled his chair close to mine and leaned in, close to my face. “We’ll get to go out once something to do. Which is what happens every day.”

Though I was listening, I couldn’t help but notice just how close Haechan was to my face. Too close, than a normal person would when wanting to whisper something. My heart began to race and my breath hitched in my throat. I looked at his eyes, ones that had so much emotions and feelings that can never be expressed, helplessly trapped, then to this nose, and finally his lips, soft and lushes, one that’s disconnected to his brain, inability to say what he thinks and needing to think twice to protect his reputation. Yet, it was all perfectly structured, carefully and beautifully, no matter how much he might be going through. I never realised how good looking he was till now. And it felt like a huge crime seeing it now.

“Are you hearing me?” Haechan whispered. I lifted my gaze from his lips and back up to his eyes. But it was now he who had his eyes down. I followed them, and they were on my lips. “Y-Yeah. I was.” Haechan instantly pulled away after a moment, chuckling awkwardly or shyly as he rubbed the back of his neck with one hand. “I don’t get the use of detention. It’s not going to change us, no matter how long we stay here for.”

“This school really doesn’t manage us properly yet our reputation is still high on the list.”

“Maybe it’s because of you and your friends.” I said, rolling my eyes and shaking my head. “Is a school’s reputation depended heavily on the looks of students?” Haechan scoffed, huffing as he ran a hand through his hair. “That’s shallow.”

“It’s the world we live in.” I simply stated.

“Oh, she left.” Haechan turned his head, and I followed along. The woman have left the room. I was shocked at the fact that we didn’t even notice. Haechan and I turned our heads to each other in unison, laughing. “Looks like we have the place to ourselves.”

Though you would think that we’d be going crazy and having a party of two while blasting music through the room’s speakers, the room was quiet. Haechan was silently listening to music while doing his notes and I typed away on my laptop, the satisfaction of the sound being produced at a fast rate. I wore my headphones too. I jumped and turned when I felt a tap on my arm.

“Hm?” I asked, taking off one side. “Should we just go?”

I paused for a moment with hesitation and contemplation, but it didn’t take long for me to blurt out, “Let’s please do so.”

We ended up going to the cafeteria. Haechan offered to buy me whatever snack I wanted. Was it bad to say that I am surprised at his generosity? It was weird in a way, I never thought of him as someone like he is now. If I could describe Haechan, he was like a book. One with a cover that was plain, unoriginal, stereotypical. You’d read the synopsis and think “The story plot is too expected.” But it’s not. The plot, characters and words change entirely, opening the reader to a whole new world that was definitely outside the box. And the more time I spent with Haechan, the more pages I flipped and read, new words and phrases pop up every which way. He slowly opened up, showing me that there was more to his all-rounded nature that he held.

“Why are we here at the garden when we can go in the library? I’m desperate for the air condition.” I walked beside Haechan and pointed to the library just a few steps away from the small garden we were headed. Haechan skipped his way down the pathway to the one bench table that was surrounded by plants and flowers.

“I like it here. Being surrounded by books can drive me insane.” I laughed at his comment, sitting down on the opposite end. I placed the snacks on the table, Haechan doing the same as we opened our snacks and took a bite in silence. “We should do this more often.”

“Do what?”

“This. Impromptu hangouts. It’s... fun, refreshing.” Haechan whispered, looking up and sighing softly with his eyes closed. He opened his eyes, locking them with mine as I hummed in response, still chewing. “Refreshing.” I repeated back to myself, nodding my head. “Actually... I have an idea. A present, if you will.” I took out my notebook from my bag, flipping through a few pages till I reached the page where it had notes. I placed it on the table and pushed it forward.

“In a way it’s a thank you gift. For helping me write again. You didn’t even say much but it made me think and turn my gears.” Haechan brought his head close to the notebook, his eyes scanning very slowly over each line. Haechan looked up, mouth opened but I decided to continue before he could say anything.

“At first my words were meaningless. The story was leading to nowhere and I had no idea where I was going, no road, no guidance. But you unintentionally, but also intentionally later on gave me ideas. A shoulder I could lean on, something I could depend on. I don’t think I have the need to dive in deeper into whatever shit you’re doing. I’ll respect the fact that you don’t want to share.”

“These are song lyrics...” Haechan whispered, holding to the edge of the page with his index and middle finger. He was completely silent and frozen, as if my words had hit him right in the heart like an arrow. “They’re... so me.” He said simply, a short chuckle leaving his lips.

“I noticed a few things about you. One, you really aren’t like what you seem to be. Living the perfect life with friends, grades, popularity. Everyone would think you had it all. I, however, started viewing you from a different angle, a new perspective. I didn’t even have to know what you hide to know that you’re transparent.”

“It shocked me, really. It sounds cliché, I know. But you are the one that has a cliché life.” Haechan and I laughed. “I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to. It’s a trade. You to me, and me to you.” Haechan’s eyes lifted off the paper. We didn’t say a word. Instead, we let our eyes do the talking, the most bare and deepest sense on our expression. “Eyes are the gateway to your soul.” I really felt it. He was stripping me bare with his stare. Nothing was left to hide between us. And this all happened in the span of just a few weeks.

Time flew by in a blur. The thought of Haechan’s mystery that I delved so deep into became a distant memory. I never really got to know the truth. Maybe I was being too skeptical about it and perhaps it was just a simple matter that Haechan could not share. We went along with the pact of going on impromptu outings. One of us would text the other during the last period and go out immediately after school just to hang out and have each other’s presence to admire. We’d never talk in school. We wouldn’t greet each other if we walked by in the hallways. Our lives were completely separated in the school’s setting, as if we’ve never made a single contact, like our lives had never crossed paths. In simple words, strangers.

Today’s outing was at a cafe. We decided that this week, we’d travel around the city and go cafe hopping, visiting a new cafe and try out places we have never went to. I was utterly shocked when I found out that Haechan had never visited the cafe that I was extremely obsessed with. Despite the place being on the other end of town, the drinks and desserts are worth the trip.

“What would you recommend?” Haechan asked, the two of us looking at the menu above the counter while we sat down on the table. “I love their red velvet cheesecake. Oh! And caramel frappé.” I said with a happy giggle, tapping my feet in excitement as I already envision the delicious dessert on the table in front of me.

“You love cheesecakes that much?” Haechan gave an amused laugh. I nodded with a gleeful hum. “It’s my all time favourite dessert!” Haechan glanced down and shook his head, a smile shying through. “Get something else while I try the cheesecake. We need the variety.” Haechan pressed his fingers together as if pinching something, puckering his lips as he mimicked the popular meme. I bursted out laughing at his weird act. “Alright, alright. I’ll get the chocolate soufflé.”

I brought out my wallet from my pocket. Before I could even slide a note out, Haechan gripped my wrist and closed my wallet shut. He didn’t need to say a word, holding up his own wallet and jerking his head to it before turning around to walk away. I sighed, a slight frown forming on my lips. He’s always been paying. It always made me feel bad. I’d be at the edge on loosing all my money yet I’d still have that urge to pay.

Haechan was waiting by the counter for the food. He turned around. I abruptly locked my eyes with his, absentmindedly not realising that I had my eyes on his back the whole time. Haechan threw me weird and goofy faces to my way, quietly laughing while his shoulders bobbed. I shook my head, once again getting second hand embarrassment. Though it wasn’t a bad thing at all. It brought me joy from his weirdness and humour.

Minutes later he came back, carrying two plates and going back to grab the drinks. He sat down after and clapped his hand once, looking down at the food as his mouth shaped an ‘O’ at the sight.

We ate, chat and laughed. There wasn’t a moment of silence. Our conversation flowed as smoothly as the waves on a peaceful day at the seashores. We’d be able to change topics so quickly that we didn’t even know how we ended up talking about roller coasters at amusement parks.

“Should we go anywhere else?” I questioned. Haechan raised both his brows and leaned forward. “Anything you want.”

The two of us looked up at the sky, painted with shades and tones from red to yellow and hints of purple shining through. The beautiful sunset that we caught today was certainly lucky. It’s not everyday a sunset can look this incredible and perfect to the eye. It was one of those moments when you just needed to silently bask in the sight, embracing the comfort it brings you before the sun fully sets and the night starts to settle in.

I heard the sound of grass moving. I took my attention off the sky and to Haechan, who had his phone out and going to his camera. He snapped a picture, taking the time to position his phone and making sure it captured the whole scenery. He turned to me, a smile plastered on his face. “Moments like these should be permanent.”

I turned back to the sky, my chin lifted up and I took in a deep breath, eyes closed, taking in every ounce of calmness and relaxation. I suddenly heard the sound of Haechan’s phone, signalling that he took a picture. I fluttered my eyes open, looking over to Haechan who had his phone faced to me.

“You are something that should be permanent too.”

As days inched closer and closer to exam week, Haechan and I started meeting less and less, which was to be expected. I was holed up in my room, getting on my study table immediately coming home after showering and having a light snack, not having a break till it was time to sleep.

The stress settled in, and I had to put off my writings. I wasn’t a genius who could multitask to such extremes. I’d eventually go insane. Though I already am with the amount of content I had to fit in my brain.

Knocking down one day at a time, exam after exam, we finally ended the week. It feels the same with every end of the year exams. You’re just stuck in that loop of studying and screwing your heads into textbook and notes. But once it’s all over, you go into complete shut down mode and your brain will grow rusty and not as functional and efficient over the holidays. And the cycle repeats once you start the new school year.

Funny enough, Haechan and I stopped going out together. You’d expect us to meet all the time due to the free time we’d have during the holidays. But for some reason we jusy didn’t contact each other. Maybe we were too concentrated with our studies that not having Haechan by my side became something neutral. I didn’t feel anything about it. It is what it is. We drifted apart, with no reason whatsoever.

I was laying down on my bed, thumb tapping on the screen at a fast rate as I skipped through everyone’s stories on Instagram. However, I immediately stopped when I got to Haechan’s stories. My thumb was pressed hard on the screen as I saw Haechan’s face. He was out with his friends, seemed to be like a party. I chuckled to myself in amusement.

Was Haechan just my dream? Just a short period of filled happiness that wouldn’t stay with me for long? Was he temporary? The moments I’ve spent with him flashed by me like a movie tape that lasted in a second. I overlooked at myself, my situation. I was helplessly staying at home. Being the homebody I am, I never really go out unless someone invited me to. Haechan’s out living his life, back to being the all-rounder, as if I’ve never been in his picture ever.

Months passed since school has started, and we never made contact since. We wouldn’t even smile to each other in the hallways. We were invisible to each other. We were back to simply being strangers. We were never in each other’s lives. We have never opened our hearts to each other. It felt like none of that happened, like none of it was even real.

The bridge made by Haechan that helped me to get back on track in my writing was still there, but the work he did to build it felt like nothing. Just like how no one remembers the fact that it was the workers that worked hard to build and construct the bridge. It just never came to mind anymore.

I just got home. Making my way to my bedroom and tossing my bag at the study table, plopping onto my bed and sinking my body into the soft sheets. I turned around, back on the bed as I took out my phone. The first notification I saw was a text from Haechan.

I instantly sat up from my laying posture, eyes narrowing to his name showing up on my lockscreen. I had to unlock my phone to see the message. I was blankly staring at it. Why did I suddenly feel nervous? I opened my phone, which immediately brought me to iMessage.

Haechan: if you’re free, text me and head to the Winstar park

I tilted my head at this. I gulped, bringing my thumbs up to the screen. However, it was hovering over the key pad, not sure of what to type. I realised that I was being too cautious as if I needed to make a good impression through the text, when all I had to do was type a simple, “Sure. Meet you in an hour.” I exhaled sharply and got off my bed. I tossed my phone on the bed and started to get ready to head out.

While I stared out to the window on the bus, the city came to view. High skyscrapers, high end shops and buildings, bustling and busy as ever. But the bus drove past it. Immediately the scenery changed. It was quiet, not a lot of people to be seen. Only the sound of leaves and branches swaying in the calm wind.

Perhaps that’s why Haechan and I liked the park so much. The silence it held gave us a moment of distraction out of our lives filled with much complexity and complication. Our time together wasn’t energy draining. We had each other to thank for that, but it was also the absence of the fast moving pace of the world that gave us a time of rest, peace. Even if it was for a short period of time, the feeling is still there, though it’s being suppressed by other by our realities.

I came walking through the park’s entrance. My legs walked me to where Haechan and I used to sit when we last came here. I didn’t even have to think for my body to be drawn to him. His back came to view. He wore a black leather jacket and jeans. His brown hair glowing under the sunlight.

On one end, I felt the need to just run up and embrace him fully. It felt like a calling, a sudden need. However, I also felt hesitant to even take one step closer. What if we weren’t as close as we used to be? What if the Haechan I knew isn’t in front of my eyes right now? Anything can happen within the span of months. People change.

That dilemma and contemplation made me stand in my spot for far too long. I couldn’t keep my eyes off Haechan as my gears began to turn, more doubts floating up from the depths of my overthinking. What I didn’t notice till now was the fact that he had a guitar case beside him.

I shut my eyes for a moment, hands clenched tightly by my sides as my chest puffed up while taking a deep silent breath. Just do it.

I tapped Haechan on the shoulder lightly, making him jump and turn around. “You took forever.” He said, flashing a smile. At least that didn’t change. It still sent butterflies fluttering in my stomach like it did last time. It made my heart ache in the best ways possible.

One look in his eyes and a whole tsunami of our memories came crashing and attacking my mind and heart. It flashed through my eyes. Every little moment, though it may seem meaningless to some, was what made my whole relationship with Haechan gain its meaning.

“Sorry about that.” I simply said. He placed the guitar case on his lap, motioning with his free hand to take the empty space next to him. I sat down, the two of us met with comfortable silence for about a minute.

“How was your exams?” I asked, not being able to handle the fact that we weren’t talking. “Great. Except for Chemistry. I can never do it.” He chuckled, shaking his head while smiling to himself on the floor. “Could’ve asked me. I aced it.” I bragged, flipping my hair with much sarcasm which made him arch a brow. “I could have. But I didn’t want to bother you.”

“At that period of time, I wished you had bothered me.” I bit my bottom lip. His eyes narrowed down on me. “Really, now?”

Haechan’s phone suddenly dinged. He took it out of his pocket. With one glance he scoffed loudly and shoved it back in. I gave him a weird look. “Just another girl texting me. It’s the fifteenth this week. I’m lazy to delete their messages.” Haechan shrugged lightly.

“Anyways, I asked you to come here for a reason.”

“You never did anything without a reason.”

“But you do. Always showing up coincidentally at where I’m at.”

“That was last year. Stop talking about it.” I punched Haechan lightly on his arm as the two of us giggled in unison. I missed this. Why did I have anything to fear? It felt as if we’ve met up just yesterday.

“You’re going to be the first person who hear this. And for your information, you should be thankful. When an artist plays their song for the first person to hear, it means that they value them a lot.” Haechan whispered after his laughter died down. Slowly, he took out his guitar from its case. He placed it on his lap. It fits and settled right on his lap perfectly.

I pressed my hands on my thighs as I waited for him to adjust a few things on his guitar. Looking up, I noticed the shades of orange and yellow coming into view. The sunset, again, was just as beautiful as last time we were here. It really did feel like nothing has changed, as if that very day had repeated itself and teleported me to this very moment.

I heard Haechan strumming the guitar once, making me turn to him instantly. He took in a deep breath, eyes closing for a moment for looking down on the guitar and placing his fingers on the right strings.

He began to play. The strum pattern was simple yet calming. Then came in his voice. True enough, I’ve never heard him sing, ever. To hear his voice washing over me like a huge wave, I felt the goosebumps on my arms, my face tightened and my breathing stopped for a moment. His voice was beautiful. It’s one that you can listen while you fall asleep. The perfect lullaby.

I noticed how he sang the lyrics I made with very little knowledge of lyric writing, yet it still sounded as if it was made by him. He made those lyrics of mine his own with his voice. I smiled softly as we looked to each other, he sang his heart out, full of emotion and love. His talent, passion, everything came up to the surface with just a short song. He ended the song with “This world is better with you around.” Which hit an arrow right on my heart. My heart ached in the most best way possible. The feeling of my heart sinking as I tried to absorb all that beauty.

“So do you like it?”

My words were at a lost. I had no idea what to say, what to think. The mixed emotions surrounded around me like a whirlpool. I had a lot of things to say, but I also didn’t, not having a clear idea to speak about. He probably noticed me simply being awestruck, retrieving his eyes back to the sunset that was already about to come down and welcome the night sky.

“That was my gift to you. I’m sorry, for not talking to you for so long. For a moment I thought you were just my escape, someone that could give me freedom whenever I wanted. But I didn’t forget you, I couldn’t.” Haechan exhaled sharply, a frown forming on his lips.

“I was able to find my way back to my love for writing songs, singing. I didn’t have to knock my head against the wall trying to figure out what lyrics to write. I was stuck and I thought I had hit a dead end. I know you’d be thinking I just gave you lyrics. But what I’m thankful for was the fact that the lyrics matched me so well. It’s as if you dug out all the thoughts that were shoved and hidden at the back of my mind. Like you knew me inside out.”

Haechan turned his head slowly to me. I opened my mouth, but no words could come out. They were all stuck in my throat. “I... I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to. You’re part of this gift exchange is your book. I mean I don’t like reading but I’d love to read yours. Me to you, and you to me.”

So, did I ever find out about Haechan’s secret? No, not at all. Turns out it was all a lie he came up just to play with me. The more important thing is the fact that I finished writing my book.

The deformed all-rounder; the story of transparency and the lost that was to be found. It all started when a 3D printer came to doorstep of a boy. He didn’t know what it was used for but he knew how 3D printers worked. But this one worked, quite uniquely. It could made things you thought weren’t possible, like a world.

So he made his own. One that was filled with happiness and joy, no fear and negative energy to be found. It was his own little world, what he wanted his reality to be. He went in, and though he enjoyed the days there, his heart shattered to pieces when the door back for reality crumbled down. He was trapped in a world filled with too much joy and glee. It was suppose to be a place brightness and everlasting greatness. But it didn’t feel anything like that. It was lonely. He eventually grew crazy due to the overdose of seeing butterflies and rainbows every which way.

Then came a girl who was the complete opposite of this world. Dark, mysterious, anger. Every negative feeling you could think of all in one person. The contrast between her and his world was drastic. How did she even end up in the world? Beats him. But she came strolling in with the most stuck up energy ever. It irritated him, of course. They never got along.

But slowly and surely, through harsh times of trying to get along with each other, they accepted the drastic difference. The world that revolved around the boy now began to take notice of this unknown girl’s personality. Further down the road, he realised that they were the same, a balance of good and bad. That was the reason why the gateway crumbled. There was no balance, no give and take of between the light and dark. With that solution, they were able to get out of the world.

He wanted to crush the 3D printer, never wanting to face it again so that he wouldn’t have to go through whatever that had just happened. However, he chose not to. Because it housed the memories of him meeting the girl that changed him entirely. His reality was a whirlpool of mess and obstruction, his printed world was seemingly perfect and filled with all things lovely. He could travel between the worlds, but there would be no point to it. As much as he could assume the world he made was perfect, he knew it wasn’t. It was made by a human. And humans were never perfect. She helped him see that there were bound to be rough edges, some only digging deeper than others.

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pixieungerstories · 3 years ago

Text

Quarentine - 1

They always say ‘buy the worst house on the best block that you can afford’ and god knows this place was a total shit hole. 1200 square feet on an overgrown lot surrounded by McMansions. Hell, I paid less for the place that the land was worth. I’m amazed someone hadn’t bulldozed the place years ago.

To make a long story short, I did not look a gift house horse in the mouth.

I mean, it wasn’t a total write off. None of the windows were smashed. There were mature fruit trees in the backyard. If you ignored the weeds and rotting fruit, there was a lot of potential. The plumbing was lead pipes and the electrical was knob and tube, but I know people and I could trade favours to get that replaced. The foundations were good and the roof barely leaked.

I spent the summer camping in a tent in the back yard and slowly getting the place winterized enough that I could move it.

It was still a creepy ass house when I did. It had a boiler. I had no idea how to deal with that, but I was learning. And I learned how to ignore the whistles, hissing and banging sounds that went with having a boiler. The old rads were cast iron with pretty little details in the corners.

There were holes in the plaster, but I just ignored them. It wasn’t worth fixing when I was going to gut the place and put up drywall eventually. It just made it easier to get at the plumbing.

I started just living in the kitchen and ignoring the rest of the house. I had disconnected the rest of the electrical and plumbing and was using that as a home base while I renovated outwards from there.

There is nothing quite as creepy as sleeping in a sleeping bag on what were probably asbestos tiles in an old house that makes the weird noises that old houses make. I kept reminding myself that they only seemed louder than normal because the place was empty and there was nothing to muffle the sound. The shrieking had to be the upstairs window that didn’t quite shut properly.

I had the feeling that something was watching me and prayed to god it wasn’t rats.

I was in this for the long haul. Get up, shower at the gym, go to work, come home, renovate until it gets dark, shower at the gym, camp out in the kitchen. Not exciting, but satisfying. Let’s face it, this was the only way I was ever going to be able to afford a house.

When the work from home order came, I had to actually get a phone line installed so I could have internet access. Me, my laptop and a kitchen table I rescued from the curbside a while back.

The creepy feeling was worse. I told myself it had to be the isolation kicking in. I skyped with my best friends at night to make up for it. The power was still a bit dodgy and kept going out, but that’s what laptop batteries and cell phones are for, right?

I was sure the cough was from the dust.

The guy delivering groceries left them on the sidewalk instead of the porch. It was fine. I understood completely. I hadn’t done much work on the outside of the building at all.

I realized I was sneezing a bit when I started having to use toilet paper as kleenex.

I was fine. I was young and healthy. I didn’t have any sick days at work so I was determined to just push through.

I tried to get more rest.

I dreamed about something laying a cool hand on my forehead.

The grocery store was out of thermometers.

I mean, did it really matter if I had a fever? I wasn’t leaving the house to share with anyone.

My cough got worse overnight. I was vaguely aware of someone lifting me up and holding a cup of cool water to my lips. I was so fucking thirsty.

“You shouldn’t be here,” I mumbled. “I don’t want you to get sick.”

“I won’t,” a rumbling voice assured me.

I didn’t remember making soup, but I jolted into awareness sitting at the table with a steaming bowl in front of me. Chicken noodle out of a can. It’s not that hard to make. I’m sure I could add water and heat in my sleep. Apparently, I just did.

I was so cold that night. I don’t know where the extra blankets came from, but they were there in the morning.

I don’t know how I ordered a bed while I was sick, but it was there and on my credit card. So was the mattress and sheets. It must have been the fever talking when I ordered them. I would not have picked out anything that old fashioned looking.

How did I get all this stuff up to the second floor bedroom? I’m sure I don’t remember stripping the paint off the closet doors. I must be losing my mind. I slept, I ate, I stopped logging in at work. I just needed to concentrate on getting better.

By the time I was able to stay awake for more than an hour at a time, the city was shut down. I was confined to my house whether I liked it or not. I was suddenly glad my fever addled brain had ordered a bed while I still could.

The watched feeling was worse. I ordered some rat traps with my groceries. I didn’t catch anything. They didn’t take the bait. I swear I heard snickering when I checked them in the morning. That was a new sound for the boiler to make.

“I am losing my mind,” I repeated to myself. Then blushed when I realized I had said it aloud. “And yes, I also talk to myself,” I added for good measure. “At least it is some sound,” I muttered. “I should turn on some music or something.”

Work was officially shut down but I still had the dumpster outback. I spend my awake time cleaning out the other rooms. The advantage of living in a construction zore was all the dust masks. When I needed to actually go out, that might help. In the meantime, I carefully sorted through the things the previous owners had left behind. Some of it was just trash, but there were some old photographs, lost buttons, even a single antique earring.

“No chance of finding a pair, I bet. Still this could be made over into a necklace or something.” Shit. I was talking to myself again, wasn’t I?

I still got tired easily. I dreamed about my mom stroking my hair as I slept.

The footprints I couldn’t explain away.

I had taken down a section of wall and spent the day carrying out the chunks of plaster before microwaving a pizza pop and tucking in early. In the morning there were footprints in the dust. They weren’t mine. They were huge and it was hard to believe they were human. Weird long toes, with the claw tips a little in front were not what I was expecting.

That was the first time I had wanted to leave the house.

I grabbed my stuff and made it to the front yard before I was spotted by a passing patrol car and ordered back inside. I had no idea how to explain that I thought there was some sort of monster living in my house. I was shaking as I went back inside.

“Hello?” I called from the doorway, ready to run. I had no idea where I could even run to. “Um… Is anyone there?” I don’t know what I was expecting. “Hi? Um …. I bought the house, I didn’t know there was any … thing living here. I have been trying to fix it up.”

“I know.”

Fuck. The scratchy, rasping bass voice was not what I was expecting. “I … uh… I can go back to camping in the yard,” I suggested.

“No.”

I waited to hear if he (?) was going to say anything else.

Apparently not.

“Uh … no I can’t stay here? Or no, you don’t even want me camping in the backyard?”

“If I didn’t want you here, I would have had many opportunities to get rid of you.”

Shit. That wasn’t ominous or threatening at all.

With a low chuckle the voice asked, “Did you mean to say that out loud?”

I froze and tried to remember what I had said. Oh. “No, that was an accident. I’m not used to having anyone around to hear me.”

“I always hear you.”

I closed the door and went out to sit in the garden for a moment to think about that. I ended up pacing, swearing and wishing for a cigarette. I hadn’t smoked in years. The sun started to go down and the bugs came out. I was being eaten alive outside. Going inside was scary but he was right. He had lots of time to …

I flung open the door. “Did you order furniture on my credit card?” I demanded.

The laughter that rang out was a whole other level of creepy. I shivered and thought about going back outside. The door pulled itself closed behind me. I spun to look at it and didn’t see anything. I could hear something breathing. I turned again. Nothing.

“If we are both going to live here, can we at least agree on some ground rules?”

“Like what?” was almost purred in my ear. Looking around wildly, I still couldn’t see anything.

I was shaking now. “Is there a way for you to be less scary so I don’t have a heart attack?” I squeaked.

There was nothing but silence. Still my sense of the presence suggested it was gone.

I didn’t sleep that night. I would just start to nod off then jerk myself awake and look wildly around the room. I never saw anything.

Six am, my alarm went off and I could smell coffee.

All the dust had been swept up.

“Hello?” I whispered.

Nothing. I had coffee and cereal and tried not to think about my surprise roommate. I was so tired, I passed out at my computer in the kitchen at some point that morning, only to wake in bed upstairs in the afternoon. “I don’t want you to touch me while I’m sleeping,” I mumbled, painfully aware that there was dick all I could do to stop it.

“Alright,” the voice said, coming from somewhere in the direction of the closet. “But don’t fall asleep at the table then.”

I breathed a faint sigh of relief. I wasn’t expecting the next part.

“You need to eat something now. You are still recovering.”

There was a can of soup heating on the stove. My breakfast dishes were gone. I found them clean and dry in the cupboard. “Thank you,” I whispered. He didn’t reply. As I ate lunch, I was psyching myself into going upstairs to look in the closet. The door had been painted shut when I got the house, but at some point had been stripped down to the bare wood.

I hadn’t worked up the nerve by the time I was done eating. Or washing and drying the dishes. I found myself at the bottom of the stairs staring up at the second floor. Did I really want to see what was in that closet?

No.

But it would be better to look during the light of day.

Eventually, I made it up there. I put my hand on the knob and tried to turn it. It didn’t budge.

“You want rules?” the voice growled behind me. I spun, there was nothing there. “Do not open that door. Do not come into my space.”

I went from trembling from nerves to bolting down the stairs in an instant. I nearly tripped, but felt something - him? - catch me and set me on my feet.

“Careful,” he purred.

I spent the rest of the day in the garden again. I was still out there when the sun went down and the back light turned on. Then the kitchen light and for a moment I could see something outlined against the antique curtains I hadn’t replaced in the kitchen. I tried to remind myself that he wasn’t necessarily that big. He might just be closer to the light and casting a bigger shadow.

I didn’t believe it, but I tried.

I crept back into the house like a scared child who wasn’t sure how angry their parents were going to be after they had done something wrong. I turned on all the lights on the main floor and stayed in the kitchen away from the stairs.

“Planning on staying up all night?”

I jumped. “How are you always behind me?”

“I live in the shadows. Go to bed.”

“Um… I was thinking, that should be your room, really. Your closet. You picked out the bed. I can just camp down -”

“No. Go to bed.”

“Do you really think I’m going to be able to sleep in a room with a closet that must not be opened? I have read Blue Beard, you know.”

“So have I. The wife gets the house and lives happily ever after.”

“The last wife does,” I pointed out. “The first dozen or so didn’t.”

He chuckled at that. “We made a deal, remember?”

“Are you teasing me? What deal?”

“I don’t touch you in your sleep. You don’t sleep in the kitchen anymore.”

“How big are you?”

The lights flickered and went off.

“Do you want to see me?” he purred, so close that I could feel his breath on my neck.

“Not in the dark,” I squeaked.

“Go to bed.”

The light snapped back on, leaving me blinking.

I spent the night sitting on the bed with my back pressed against the headboard trying to see the whole room at one. Eventually, I fell asleep.

My alarm did not go off at six. It had been turned off. The coffee was ready but not turned on when I went down stairs. The air smelled faintly of solder. There was a post-it stuck to the coffee maker. Fine copperplate handwriting told me:

I have replaced the plumbing

I stared at it dumbly. I had replaced the plumbing to the kitchen sink and the downstairs powder room and had been washing out of the sink since I had been forced to stay home. The only other plumbing was down to the washing machine in the cellar and the upstairs bathroom. I pushed the button on the coffee maker and slowly crept upstairs.

Sure enough the stack of copper pipe waiting in the other bedroom was gone.

Well, not gone. I could see it installed through the holes in the walls. I turned on the tap to the sink and sure enough, I had water. I now had an upstairs, working bathroom with a clawfoot tub.

And no walls.

“I don’t like the idea of you watching me bathe,” I called out. Then I felt like an idiot because if whatever it was had voyeur tendencies, it could have been watching me for months. I tried all the taps and the toilet. Everything worked.

“Thank you,” I mumbled, unsure if I was talking to myself.

“You’re welcome.” It was the least creepy, most normal thing I had heard from him.

----

When I got back downstairs, there still wasn’t coffee but there was a new note:

Humans who do not sleep start to hallucinate

I crumbled it up, threw it across the room and jabbed the on switch on the coffee maker. Nothing happened. I growled as I plugged it in. The power went out.

“Oh come on! Withholding coffee is cruel and unusual punishment!”

“Sleep.” It sounded like the whole house had murmured that last bit.

I wish I could say I handled it gracefully, but I didn’t. I stomped back up to the bedroom like a petulant child.

I woke to bright sunlight streaming in through the window. The house was quiet and it felt empty for the first time in days. I had a bath and washed my hair and I felt better than I had in days too. Clean and dry and dressed, I bounced into the kitchen to try and turn on the coffee again only to see my laptop snap shut.

It was with a lot of trepidation that I opened it. I was expecting a ridiculous online purchase which is why I stared dumbly at the screen unable to process what I was seeing.

It was a CGI woman with her hands tied to something over her head being railed by a monster who was fingering her clit with one hand and fondling her breasts with the other while her belly distended in rhythm with his thrusts.

“Ugh! Dude! You can NOT watch porn on my laptop!” I shrieked as I frantically tried to close the window.

“Would you rather I watch you?” he asked calmly from somewhere to the left of me.

I breathed out a shaky breath. “OK. Let’s talk about private browser windows and how not to get a computer virus.”

When I got to the end of my tentative explanation, I asked, “Do you need … some alone time?”

There was another house shaking howling laugh.

“Is that a yes or a no?”

“You need to eat.”

That brought up a whole other issue. “Do you? Eat I mean. Do you eat? What do you eat?”

“Don’t worry about me. I am not going to eat you. Unless you ask nicely.”

I blushed even further but got out a pan and a skillet meal from the fridge.

I spend the rest of the afternoon weeding the garden. I came in when it got dark, heated up my leftovers from lunch and tried to figure out what to do with myself. The nap had meant that I wasn’t tired for the first time in days.

I wondered what he would do if I watched a movie. I hunted through the cupboards and found a bag of microwave popcorn from before the virus started. Right! I thought. Bowl of popcorn, a movie, skype with a few friends. Pretend none of this was happening.

I wasn’t surprised when the lights went out. That was just a thing now. My computer was still illuminating a bubble around me and B99 was still hilarious.

I wasn’t expecting the bed to dip next to me. That once again raised the question of how to deal with him around others. I hit the mute button. “What are you doing?” I asked icily.

“Not touching you. What are you eating?”

“Human food.”

“Hmmm.”

I unmuted my computer to answer Penny’s question about how stir crazy I was going.

“12/10 on the looney toons scale,” I offered.

She just laughed.

All of the popcorn was gone.

“Ah hell.”

“What’s wrong?” Penny asked.

“All my popcorn is gone,” I grumbled. I didn’t add that I had more than half a bowl left a moment ago. Not eating me, I reminded myself.

“That sucks. Need to pause and get more?”

“I don’t have anymore.”

She just laughed, “But do you still have toilet paper and hand sanitizer?”

I chuckled, “Toilet paper, at least.”

“I should go. It’s getting late,” she said with a yawn.

“Yeah. Good night.” After Penny signed off, I just let Netflix autoplay the next episode.

“Do you need to sleep?” The whisper seemed to come from the direction of the closet but the bed was still dipped under his weight on my other side.

My heart leapt to my throat. “How many of you are there?”

“Just me,” he purred too close to my ear. I flung myself away from him and toppled out of bed. Two hands caught me.

Two other hands caught my laptop.

I stared as it was placed back on the bed a little way in front of me. The hands on my arms were cool and smooth. “What are you?”

“I am me. I have not asked your name. You will not ask mine.”

“My name is on the mail. And my credit card. You know my name,” I pointed out keeping my eyes locked on the screen, fighting the urge to look around.

“Nonetheless.”

This wasn’t going to work, but I had to try. “I would like to be alone now.”

The bed shifted as the weight was removed from the side. The black shadows that could be fingers moved from my computer. The voice said, “Good night” from the direction of the closet.

I sat frozen. “In the morning, I’m moving the bed to another room.”

“Why?”

“Because the closet is yours and it’s scary being here with you,” I admitted.

“I have never done anything to harm you.”

“You scare the shit out of me multiple times a day.”

There was a long pause before he replied, “And yet you haven’t left.”

“The city is on lock down. I can’t leave.”

“Hmm.”

I jumped as my laptop snapped shut. I fumbled in the dark trying to find it on my bed, “What are you doing?” I demanded.

“Taking this downstairs. I will not bother you tonight.”

“What-” I started to say, then snapped my mouth shut as the realization that this may be his ‘alone time’.

This time the “Good night,” came from the bedroom door.

In the morning the only thing in my browsing history was netflix. This was less comforting since I had shown him how to clear the cache. I told myself at least the keyboard wasn’t sticky.

#quarantine #oh my god they were quarantined

65 notes · View notes

imonthinice · 3 years ago

Text

The Criminal Psychology Majors, Jason Todd x Fem!Reader Part 12/?

Word Count: 4.4k

Author’s Note: Y/N - Your Name, A/N - Any Name (Your Best friend’s name)

God idk what i’m doing with this but i’m liking it lmao

next one might honestly be smut idk

Warnings: Violence, Swearing, Description of Blood, Gets heated, hints at trauma, no beta bitch we die like Jason Todd

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7) (Part 8) (Part 9) (Part 10) (Part 11) (Part 12) (Part 13) (Part 14) (Part 15) (Part 16) (Part 17) (Part 18) (Part 19) (Part 20)

Y/N walked through the streets of Gotham, which were once bustling with people, but now were quiet with the occasional hooker, she had caught the city as an unlively hour, where it seemed to sleep the night away while the vigilantes of the area watched it like their lives depended on it. In some ways it did, the stories they would tell when being interviewed were horrific sometimes, but Y/N figured a decent amount of it was for dramatization, to keep the people of Gotham off of the streets to protect them all from it.

The question was always protect them from what, and they never answered. So, it never kept the people of Gotham at bay from the streets at night, and had Y/N’s car not been towed, she would have been driving home in the safe, secluded area of her car, not the vast wilderness of the streets of Gotham.

She looked up at the sky to see one of the virgate boys using a grappling hook to fly to the other building, which was such a sight to behold for someone who never witnessed a superhero beyond Superman at home. She wished and longed to know more about the vigilante, but didn’t dwell or dote on that man, because she didn’t need to.

Something told her that he was watching though, tracing every step she made to make sure she got home in one piece. She thought she was crazy, her life didnt matter more than anyone else in Gotham. He’s not following me, why would he? she thought, Even though I’m dating Jason Todd, they probably don’t know Jason, so my life doesn’t mean much more to them than any one of the hookers along this street. I’m overthinking it.

The walk home took two hours, she left Jason’s at 4am just to find herself back home at 6am, bright and early as the sun rose, ready to greet the day and all it had in store for everyone. But the things it had in store for Y/N was a class and if she was lucky, cuddling with Jason. Nothing more, nothing less.

She would open her front door, unscathed from the journey home, except maybe for a few callouses on her feet, it was the last time she wouldn't pay for more than a day of parking, that’s for sure. Heels were not the shoes you wanted for a two-hour walk home in the Autumn cold, but they were what she had.

She thought about what she was going to do next, and the first thought she had was to shower. Not because she needed to, but because she wanted to nurse the terrible headache she had and to think some things through. What she normally did in the shower.

She wanted so much more from so much of her life. the main offender of seemingly not being enough for her was Jason. Not because she didn’t want more, but because she craved more from him. He was injured, so she wouldn’t get much more rom him for the time being, and it stung a little for her. She just wanted him, maybe sexually, maybe in a more romantic setting or maybe just on her couch on a Thursday afternoon. It was all three of those options and she knew it.

She pulled out of the shower and looked at the time, 6:50am. Okay, she thought, little more time than I wanted to spend in the shower, but I guess the universe had different plans for me today. What else do you have for me, universe? And how much of you plan involves Jason?

She would open her phone after quickly getting dressed. While she still cared for her appearance, she didn’t want to dress like she owned a law firm every day, so she didn’t. Just black jeans and a black top and she felt like a million bucks.

Just some quick outfit inspo. I like doing these a lot. I think fashion is funky :))

Artemis had sent her a message asking where she was at around 4am, she wondered why the time, but she then remembered that Artemis’ boyfriend worked with Dick Grayson, who was Jason’s brother, who worked most nights until radical hours of the night. The chances that he saw her on her two-hour walk home was high, but the chances that that had also made it back to Jason was higher. She knew she was in for it.

Hey sorry, I was at Jason’s. Fell asleep in his arms the whole shebang. And yeah, that was me who screamed the yo momma joke at the press. It was super childish, I know, but I don’t care. Those fucks are sucking my life force out of me and harassing my boyfriend, even your boyfriend.

She would then look at the articles calling her a gold digger and worth-nothing childish insulter of the press. She laughed. If the press wanted a fight from her, she was more than willing to oblige and load the canons.

She didn’t know how to fight back that well, since it was a mainly verbal fight, and she barely even knew how to fight physically, hence all the running and non-confrontational arguments she had had to the press.

And like fucking clockwork, Jason texted her.

Did you walk home alone or are my brothers lying bastards?

I walked. I knew someone saw me, fuck.

Why did you walk home? I thought you drove here?

I did, but we spent more than 12 hours together Jason. I didn’t buy enough hours, suddenly my car was being towed.

You could have asked for a ride home from Alfred! He would have in a heartbeat.

I was going to! But I got distracted and it all became a blur and suddenly I was part of the way home in the dark by myself!

What if you had gotten hurt?

Well, I saw one of the vigilantes of the city on the rooftops, I’m sure if I screamed they would have seen me. They always do see that stuff.

So, your car got towed huh?

Yeah, I don’t know when I’ll be able to pay it off. It’s not exactly like money my parents give me should go to my car getting towed because I got fucked over by seeing my boyfriend.

You’ll figure it out. Sorry about the car, that’s got to suck fucking ass.

You think? I’m stuck taking the fuckin’ subway till I get my car back. I hate the subway, too many people. Far too many people. Too many eyes. It gets stressful really quickly. Might just walk every where honestly, I can’t deal with the eyes of strangers.

But you’re a C-list celebrity.

Internet is different. I can just block the bad eyes and move on with my life, you should see my block list now that some people are connecting my name to the girl who flipped off the press, thank god Twitter has a fuckin block feature.

You should really just meet my family so you don’t have to run away before they get home, would probably cause you a lot less financial stress, Y/N.

I’ll think about it.

You should think a little harder about it. I don’t want you to get your car impounded ‘cause you’re seeing me, why did you even park in pay-to-park?

Did you not see the massive mob trying to get to you? It was impossible for me to even try to pull into the driveway. Hence why I’m being insulted, you know, ‘cause I yelled at the press to get them to leave me alone. I fucking hate the press, you’re stabbed, severely injured last time they got information, and they’re harassing me, asking me what I like to do on the weekends.

Fucking vultures. Yeah, I’ve seen that. I’ve read the articles. But that’s the press for you, absolute trash and spitting bullshit in everyway.

Fucking hate the press, that’s for damn sure. Despise them. I won’t ever change that, even if, knock on wood, we break up.

Praying we don’t break up so I can see you lose your shit at the press when you’re bored.

She would get up to go make some coffee, since it was closer to 7:20am and if her roommate woke up, she could just tell her to get up anyway.

The press can suck my dick. she said.

You have a dick?

Oh yeah. Massive. 20ft long. It probably won’t even fit all the vultures.

Oh my god, that’s not as big as mine.

lmfao is it now?

Oh yeah.

Nice.

Anyway, my brothers are staying home from school today, I think they’re making me play Resident Evil 8 with them? You know that game?

Of course. Everyone in that game is infinitely hot.

Are you bi?

I don’t know. Haven't thought that far ahead to actually label myself. I just like people. Sometimes it’s men, sometimes it’s women. But you have to agree when you see them all. That game came out when I was still in high school, so I’ve played the entire thing. My phone background is actually one of the characters.

Which one?

I’ll show you if I come over tonight.

My brothers might be in my room, though.

Okay, but, RE8 is an amazing game. So, worth it.

You won’t meet them normally but I pull out a game you love and you’re down?

I’m very easy to convince.

You still have notes to write when you come over though.

Oh yeah, I was probably going to have to come over both ways, just because I need those notes and you do too.

Do you not own a printer?

I barely even own a laptop, I’m waiting for my old one to come in the mail.

How do you even manage?

With a whole lot of will and spite, anything is possible.

And that’s when her discord group chat @’ed her. She was on Do Not Disturb because she was Jason, and apparently they missed her.

Y/N! C’mere. One said.

Yes? Whatduhya want nerds?

We’ve decided to hold a fake internet wedding between you and Christopher. Another said.

A what.

We’re getting married!

Sometimes I wish I never left Metropolis and then I remember you fucks live there. Why are we doing this? You do know I have a boyfriend right? She asked them.

I don’t know, we’re bored and we miss you. We can have a bachelorette party in Gotham, if you want.

I’m this close to going back on DND.

The group chat was made way back when they had all first met in grade 9 and had been active ever since. They all had stayed in the city when they graduated though, but since Y/N received a scholarship, fully paid for, she took the opportunity and jumped.

They were some of her closest friends, even if they lived in a different city to her now, even if they were all busy with school, even if she was busy with school and a boyfriend, A lot of her life wouldn’t be complete without her crack friends in her hometown.

They had all ben partying like crazy while she was gone, and if she wasn’t so hung up in her own life, she’d probably be down there with them.

Before you do, can you please explain why you’re screaming at the press, lmao.

Because fuck the press, dude. Why else?

What did they do to you?

Have you seen the recent articles?

That’s true.

She laughed and finished her coffee. Jason had not responded yet, she assumed his brothers were either checking on him or they had started the game. It was around 8am when A/N finally left her room.

“I thought you were staying with Jason?”

“I was, but then I remembered he has like 9 siblings and I’m not about to meet them all. Then I walked home.”

“You walked?”

“Car got towed.”

“Fuck, can you afford the bill? I can’t.”

“Nope.”

“Guess we’re going to take the subway for a while, huh.”

She sighed and put her cup in the sink, “At least you don’t have school to go to and your lover comes to meet you, I have shit to do and places to be,” she frowned, “Inconvenient.”

“Could you borrow money from Jason’s dad?”

“I don’t borrow money from family, it’s hard enough for me to accept the money my parents send me.”

“I know it is, when’s your class?”

“3pm, I’ll be leaving at 12pm though, because the subway is unreliable.”

“This is going to be a hard hit for us.”

“Well, it’s not like it’s fucking your credit. Mine’s tanking.”

“You’ll pull through it.”

-------------------------------------------

She got onto the subway at 12:30pm. She really hated the way it was running. The people, the faces, the staring eyes of unwanted attention. People knew who she was and she hated it. She didn’t like the attention, she just liked the fucking with people. She wanted to get off the subway the minute she got on.

She eventually couldn’t take it and got off a few stops away, there was still a substantial walk towards the college, but she knew it would be. She even brought a leather jacket with her so that she could walk if she couldn’t take it anymore.

And there she was, in the busy streets of Gotham, walking to her college. Barely aware of the people who did stare at her, because she just kept walking, lost in her thought but aware of the people in her trail, the cross walks and the lights she was waiting for occasionally. She just kept walking until Artemis met up with her,

“Hey! I didn’t know you were walking to school today,” Artemis said.

“Oh! I didn’t want to, my car got towed though.”

“Your car got towed? That sucks so much. Well, we’re going the same way, so I’ve decided I’m going to walk with you, you get no say.”

“Of course. I was going to ask if you wanted to,” she laughed, “It’s more fun with a friend anyway, Art.”

“So, how are things with you and Jason, I’m legally obliged to ask as one of his friends.”

“Well, we made it official if that’s the kind of thing you want to hear,” she laughed again, “I’m sure it’s the answer Dick will eat up.”

“You’re right about that one. Dick’s a sucker for a romantic story, you should write one, since you write. He’d probably read it all.”

“Well, that would be fun, but I still don’t have my laptop.”

“You could use Jason’s?” Artemis suggested..

“Nah. It’ll be fine,” she said, “I’ll manage.”

“Aren’t you collecting notes for him for your psychology class?”

“I am, it’s not like he can go anywhere. I actually told him he’d need to walk eventually so that it’s not a learning curve when he’s healed.”

“That’s what all of us are telling him too, he’s a stubborn man, good luck with that one,” Artemis laughed, “He’s always been the stubborn friend. Worse than Will, actually, and Will is really bad with being stubborn.”

“It’s fine,” she laughed, “If you asked any of my Metropolis friends they’d say the same about me.”

“I bet you were quite the wild child in your heyday back in your city,” Artemis laughed, “I hate Metropolis.”

“Who doesn’t? It’s so crowded.”

“Uh, Clark doesn’t. He thrives there, no idea why, he grew up in Smallville. If anyone should be uncomfortable with Metropolis it should be the small-city country boy, but I guess it’s his thing.”

“I forget you know everyone.”

“We know a lot of people, are you’re slowly being let into our massive circle of very well-known people. Welcome to the group, I guess,” she laughed, “You'll either hate or love the fame that comes from this.”

“Well, if its paparazzi and press, I think I’ll hate it.”

“I can promise you right now that it’s not all paparazzi and press, we haven’t been bothered today, probably because we are on the move.”

“You shouldn’t say that, you’ll jinx it.”

“I know a lot about not jinxing it, but that’s a story for another time,” Y/N noticed that when Artemis said this her eyes glazed over and she looked upset.

“You don’t ever have to talk to me about something you’re not ready to talk about,” Y/N reassured her.

“Hey, the trauma makes me funny.”

“Two can play that game.”

They would ramble on for the rest of the walk to their college. Nothing really of substance, just getting to know each other further. She was glad she found a friend in Artemis, it would have sucked if the two of them didn’t get along, but with each word they exchanged, they had so much fun.

She even told Artemis about that time she played Katherine Howard in her school’s budget play of Six - The Musical. She was proud of the riffs she was able to do, but she didn’t talk about it often. She was never the type of brag about her achievements, no matter how amazing they were.

But Artemis and Y/N parted ways and Y/N went to her class and wrote the same, boring, scribbly and barely legible notes. She figured eventually she’d need nicer handwriting, but did she want to work on it? No.

When she finished, she saw Artemis and who she could only assume to be Wally, at Artemis’ class doors. She waved to Artemis, before Artemis called her over.

“Y/N! Hey, I would ask how class is, but this is Wally,” she gestured to the red-head boy beside her, and Y/N held out her hand to shake Wally’s.

“Hi, Wally.”

“Y/N. It’s nice to meet you since Jason can’t shut up about you and my girlfriend likes you a lot.”

“Well that's sweet of you Artemis. You’re just so in love with me,” Y/N joked.

“Girl. You know it,” Artemis joked back.

“You two already have a close bond? That’s impressive,” Wally said, “Never seen anyone win over any of my friends this quickly,” he muttered.

They joked for a little while longer, just getting to know Wally before she had to go, she had to get to Jason’s.

The walk was a while away, so she went and sat on a park bench for a minute to check her phone, Jason had texted her.

Hey baby, are you coming over?

I am, yes. I actually just met Wally.

You met Wally and I wasn’t there to see it? C’mon.

Artemis introduced us! Go yell at her.

Oh. Never mind. I won’t do that.

Ha! Scared of her?

Maybe a little, she can be scary, okay?

You can’t tell but I’m laughing at you.

Dhmu.

That’s fine, I’ll just go hang out with Alfred and not you. He seems like he would be spiteful like me.

That’s unfair.

I thought you said don’t hit me up?

Fuck.

Checkmate.

I am upset.

No you’re not.

No I’m not.

She would walk down the street further, maybe within a couple steps to reach the Manor, when a man dragged her into an alleyway. She yelped.

“Uh, hello? Can I help you?” she asked, pretending she wasn’t terrified.

“How much would Bruce give me for you?” the attacker mumbled before he tried to knock her to the ground, but she had another plan.

He grabbed her, put his face close to hers, and she head-butted him, he would stumble back, and she started running to the Manor.

“Come here you fucking bitch!” he screamed. She could feel her nose bleeding as she ran and ran, the security saw her and pulled her into the gateway before drawing their guns and urging her to run to the steps of the Manor.

And she ran. The security at the door saw her and let her in, and yelled for Alfred.

“What is this nonsense, oh,” Alfred paused when he saw the blood running out of Y/N’s nose, “Miss Y/N, what happened to you?” he asked before grabbing her hand and pulling her into the entry-way bathroom and opening a first-aid kit.

“Okay so, what happened was I was walking to the Manor because my car got towed right? And this fucking bastard dude pops out from an alleyway and pulls me into it, asks some bullshit about how much Bruce would pay for me, when he grabbed me and tried to knock me down, when I head-butted him and started running,” she said, completely unphased.

Alfred didn’t respond to her and started to stop the bleeding when Bruce called for him, “In the entry-way bathroom, Master Wayne!” he answered.

Bruce came around the corner and saw Alfred was already tending to Y/N, “Well, this is the event where I meet my son’s girlfriend, when she is bleeding and running from a strange man in an alleyway.”

“Heh, sorry,” she said and outstretched her hand to shake his, “It’s nice to finally meet you, Bruce.”

“I can tell you’re going to be quite the addition to this household,” he said as he took her hand and shook it, “As long as you’re okay.”

“I’m okay.”

“That’s good. I guess you can’t get mad at Jase for being a reckless man now.”

“I really can’t.”

“Alright, you should be good, Miss Y/N.”

“Thank you, Alfred. But you really didn’t have to.”

“I’ve been taking care of 5 boys and 3 girls since most of them were little, Miss Y/N. A little blood is really no big deal for me to handle.”

“That’s obvious.”

“You can go see the boys now, they’re going to ask you though,” Bruce said.

“I know.”

She walked to Jason’s room, hoping that he wouldn’t have all of his siblings in the room, he did though.

“Hey, Y/N- what the fuck happened to you?” Jason exclaimed when she opened the door.

“Oh great, all your siblings are here. Anyway, I guess,” she paused, taking in a big breath so she could run through the events quickly, “So I was walking here ‘cause my car got towed, right? When some fucking bastard man grabs me and yanks me into an alleyway and starts going off about how much Bruce will pay him to get me back or something,” she paused again, “And when he tried to knock me down by getting really close and personal to my face, like an idiot I should add, I head-butted him.”

“You did what?’

“I’m not done yet, met your dad when I actually had blood running out of my nose because that's just my fucking luck. Okay, now you can be disappointed in me,” she joked.

“I will say again, you did what?”

“Something stupid?” she said.

“You could say that again, my god, what went through your head?”

“Uh, nothing. Just survival. Fight or flight but I head-butted a man, and hi, everyone.”

“Hi, Y/N, I’m Dick,” Dick said, “You clearly are meant for Jason,” he joked, “That's something he would do.”

“Don’t encourage her, Dick!”

Stephanie got up and greeted her, “You know, Y/N, I always wanted a crazy sister,” she joked, “I’m Stephanie, the black-haired girl is Cass, and the red-head is Barbara.”

“Me too,” Cass hopped onto the joke.

“It’s something else when you meet the girl your brother is dating after she head-butted a man, apparently,” Y/N laughed, “I know it’s far-fetched-”

“Not really,” Tim cut her off, “You know Jason protected Will when they were attacked?”

“That’s Tim, by the way,” Dick said.

“So you can’t yell at me for head-butting a man!” Y/N joked at Jason while going to sit beside him, he slinged an arm around her shoulder and leant his head into her head.

“Well, you seem like a nice enough girl,” Barbara said, “Take away the reckless behavior, and you are lovely.”

“That is valid, to be honest. Not exactly the way you want to meet your brother’s girlfriend.”

“You think?” Jason asked, sarcastically.

“Ha ha.”

“See, she thinks I’m funny, why can’t you fucks?”

Y/N laughed and then asked Dick, who was playing RE8 at the time, staring at the photo of Donna Bentiveno, “She’s cute, isn’t she, Dick?”

“Have I been staring?”

“Let’s just say Angie is probably very pissed at you.”

“Oh! Whoops. There’s a point to this, I forgot.”

“I don’t blame you, I remember forgetting there was a point and the little bitch devil doll would attack you.”

“Language.”

“Oh no, you’re lame. Gross.”

“Excuse me?” Dick asked as the rest of the room erupted in laughter.

“Do you guys see why I like her now?” Jason asked.

“Uh no, she’s mean,” Dick said.

“You’re going to die if you don’t start paying attention, Dick,” Y/N said.

“Oh!” and he died.

“And that kids, is why we listen to the person who’s 100%’ed the game.”

------------------------------

Y/N and Jason would spend hours with his brothers and sisters until the sun started to set and they all scattered to their own rooms to do their own things. you can’t keep a lot of kids in one room for so long.

Once everyone left, Y/N placed her hands on Jason and kissed him, she was actually able to be laid on his pillow, he was able to pin her to the bed. And they did just that. He was on top of her, using his one arm to prop himself up and using his other hand to touch her face.

Her hands found their way into his hair like they always did, she found a lot of joy in playing with his hair. Their tongues danced together, they never fought or anything, they just enjoyed each other when Jason let out a small moan and she let out a small laugh.

“Keep it in your pants, Tiger,” she joked, “You’re not fully healed.”

“You literally smashed your face into another man but I can’t moan when I kiss you?”

“Because I know you want more.”

“Hell yeah I do,” he said as he went back for more, actually using his strength to keep her to the bed, but she didn’t protest this time.

33 notes · View notes

mearcatsreturns · 3 years ago

Note

15 for Abby/Luka

For reasons ;)

Under a cut because it's long.

July 2003

To: Luka Kovac <“[email protected]”>

From: Abby Lockhart <“[email protected]”>

Subject: I’m drowning and praying ghosts are real

Dear Luka,

Something about knowing that I’ll never talk to you again is just unbearable. I’ll never laugh at your malapropisms, look into your beautiful eyes, feel your strong hands holding mine, or make love to you again. There won’t be any more jokes about jam and cheese on toast, or you teasing me for my weak but constant supply of coffee. I’ll never hear your amazing, deranged laughter after you prank someone again. No more of your hugs—which are somehow the best hugs in the world. Because you’re gone.

It’s been three days since we got the call telling us you died thousands of miles from home, whether that’s here in Chicago or in Croatia. I didn’t know your dad’s name, Luka. We needed to call him, and I didn’t know. How did I not know? And now I can’t. I mean, L’Alliance told us his name, but the fact that I’ll never learn pieces of your history, of the wonderful man you are, FROM you...how am I supposed to go on and live my life?

For years, I’ve thought medicine was my great thwarted love. I’ve wanted to be a doctor for so long, and I thought I was bitter about having to let go of that dream. Now I wonder. I let obstacles get in the way of pursuing medicine, and it’s made me...well, it’s part of why I was so unhappy. But that makes me think about how I also let obstacles get in the way of us. I was happy with you, you know, until I let fear and my mother and Carter get in the way. God, I wish I could do that over again. We could have had everything, and if I hadn’t gotten in my own way, I’d be happy. I think maybe I could have made you happy, too.

It’s funny. I knew things with Carter weren’t working, and he implied you were part of it. I said it wasn’t, but then five minutes later, I found out you were—are—dead. And I realized you were the reason, or one of the big ones. As soon as Chuny told me, I knew I loved you and had loved you for years. Yeah. Great timing, isn’t it? I keep thinking that maybe I could have kept you from going if I had known or if I had told you. I didn’t want you to go when I thought you were my very attractive friend and ex that I still was fond of. Knowing that I love you—how do I move past that? Knowing that I lost you, first to my stupidity and then to death?

I just...I miss you, and I don’t when I’ll stop, or how to. Susan caught me crying on my last shift, and I didn’t even know what to say. I feel like I’ve been crying or standing still, brittle and stuck in time, since I heard the news. I can’t, Luka. I know I have to keep on moving, and I thought maybe writing you would help. I know you’ll never see this, never have a chance to respond. But the idea that some fragments of your soul linger and can maybe sense...I don’t know. That I’m writing? What I’m feeling? Jesus, this is crazy.

All my love,

Abby

Abby angrily swipes the tears from her eyes. God, what’s the point of writing this? He’ll never see hsi email or her again. Just...without Luka, how can the world be anything but grim and sad and pointless?

She laughs mirthlessly. Maybe it doesn’t matter. No, she knows it doesn’t. Because Abby knows the futility of it, aches with the meaninglessness, she presses send without another thought.

&&&

Three days after that, a miracle occurs. Luka, the Lazarus of this new millennium, comes back from the dead. He’s never been dead, and maybe, Abby thinks, there’s a God above after all. So many people wish for this exact boon, and she—they, the world—gets it. Some higher power believes this planet is a better place with Luka Kovac in it, and Abby is ecstatic.

Until she remembers the email and that they can’t be unsent.

It’s fine. She’ll be fine. Luka is coming back, apparently with a French nurse. Maybe he’ll just delete it without reading it. Maybe it didn’t go through—how does email work for the dead, and how quickly is all that processed?

Abby shakes her head. It doesn’t matter; Luka is alive and returning to them. She can handle a little awkwardness in the face of the sheer joy of knowing the world is a brighter, kinder place. He’s coming back, and that’s what’s important.

&&&

August 2003

It takes Luka almost a week after returning to Chicago to convince Kerry and the other staff to let him go back to his apartment. Even so, they only agree when Gillian assures them she’ll see to his every need.

Abby winces when she hears that, and it makes something flutter in Luka’s chest. Which probably isn’t good for his malaria, but the hope...that is.

It’s another two days of lying in bed before he has the energy to ask Gillian to bring him his laptop. At this point, it’s been months since he’s checked his email, and Luka grimaces at the undoubtedly horrible state of his inbox. He briefly considers never checking again and just getting a new one, but he knows his father struggled to add him to his contacts once already. To expect it of him again would be absurd.

With a sigh, Luka opens his email. It’s just as bad as he feared. He snorts at the myriad messages about Viagra, Nigerian princes, and Russian brides, deleting them without thought. He saves a couple from his dad. He slowly whittles down his inbox, but he freezes when he gets to one email in particular, sent about a month ago.

It’s from Abby, during the time everyone thought he was dead.

Luka considers calling and asking her if someone hacked her email or is sending spam from her account, but the subject line...it looks real. And Abby’s been odd around him lately, seeming both deliriously happy to see him and awkwardly nervous.

His heart pounds, and he clicks to open it. If this is a spammer, they’re probably about to get whatever they want.

&&&

Abby pours herself another coffee, internally swearing as she prepares for the last two hours of her shift. Deciding to go back to school is great; having to coordinate all the details is less thrilling and leaves her tired and cranky.

Frank ducks his head into the lounge, beady eyes narrowing on her. “Hey, Abby. The Croat is on the phone for you. Line 2. Try to get back out there as fast as you can, Weaver’s yelling at the med students about IVs.”

“Okay, Frank,” Abby says, though she flushes and her palms start to sweat. It’s fine. She can always hide the panic and butterflies in her stomach with sarcasm. It has yet to fail her.

Frank gives her one last suspicious look, then nods and heads back to Admit.

Abby takes a deep breath, then picks up the phone. “Hey, Luka?”

“It’s me. Glad I could reach you. How are you?” He sounds...ugh. So good. And eager and happy, and her heart could leap right out of her chest.

“Doing all right. I just have a couple hours left on this shift, and it hasn’t been too awful today. Only one MVA. How about you? You feeling okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Recovering. Listen, did you want to come over for dinner?”

“Please tell me you’re not trying to cook.”

“What? I’m a good cook, even if you don’t appreciate wonderful, traditional Croatian dishes,” he says with a chuckle.

“Luka, you just got out of the hospital five days ago. You still need to be resting.”

“Abby, don’t worry so much. I was just kidding. I have some sandwiches from Manny’s, and Anna sent me home with lots of matzo ball soup too.”

Abby bites her lip. Of course she wants to go. But the prospect of spending the evening with Gillian cooing over Luka, knowing that she shares a bed with him, is decidedly less appealing. And there’s the email she sent, which Luka hasn’t acknowledged. He might well have deleted it, or he’s giving her a gracious out.

Her conscience twinges as soon as she thinks about bailing, though. Didn’t she promise herself she wouldn’t take life for granted anymore? She’ll go back to med school, she’ll have dinner with Luka when he asks.

“Abby?”

She starts, realizing she needs to respond. “Yeah, sorry. Yeah, I can do that. I can be there an hour after my shift, if that’s okay.”

“Sounds great. Looking forward to seeing you.”

“Me too.” He has no idea how much, even if she wishes she knew for sure that he’d deleted the email.

&&&

Abby rings Luka’s doorbell three and a half hours later. She’d meant to come straight from work, but after a patient vomited on her, she decided to head home, shower, and splurge on a taxi to Luka’s. The poor man is recovering from being deathly ill and doesn’t need County’s fumes making things worse.

There’s the sound of the deadbolt sliding, and Luka answers the door, grinning happily at her. “Good, you made it! Come on in!”

“I did. Sorry it took me longer than expected.” Abby steps into his apartment, looking around. It’s been such a long time since she’s been here, and she notes the subtle changes in the art and decor.

“No worries. I know how it goes.” He places a hand at the small of her back, guiding her inside.

Abby stiffens for a second at how his touch burns even through the layers of her shirt and light jacket, but she relaxes, enjoying the feel while she waits for Gillian to appear and end the fleeting joy.

Luka is unfazed. “Now, of course we can just eat the sandwiches, but if you want to heat up the matzo ball soup, you can. Since you don’t want me standing,” he says with a wink.

Abby smiles back, shaking her head. “Oh, I see how it is. Make the woman who worked all day do more household work when she gets ho—wait, where’s Gillian? Isn’t she supposed to be taking care of you?”

“She’s not here,” he says simply.

Going to the fridge and taking out the containers of soup, Abby places them in the microwave. Is Gillian out for the evening, or is she gone gone? “Shouldn’t you be with her? Or her here with you, whatever.”

Luka is quiet for a long minute, and Abby wonders if he intends to answer. Finally, he breaks the silence. “I asked her to leave.”

Abby’s pulse speeds up. “What? Why?”

Luka takes a deep breath, clearly ready to respond, and—

The microwave dings, and they both jump. Exchanging a sheepish look, they laugh.

“Look, let’s get some food, and I’ll tell you all about it.”

Abby dishes up their soup and sandwiches, preparing trays so they can sit on the couch. Luka turns on the television, and Abby’s heart rate comes back under control. They sit together in companionable silence while they eat and watch Thom and Jai and the rest of the Fab 5 whip some hapless lawyer’s life into order. When they finish their meal, Abby cleans up, taking the trays back to the kitchen.

She heads back to the couch at the opposite end from Luka, not daring to get closer when she really has no idea what’s going on.

Luka clears his throat and mutes the TV. “So, yeah. I asked Gillian to leave.”

“Oh. So, um, did you break up?”

“She was never my girlfriend, really. She has a boyfriend back in Montreal, they just…” Luka shrugs and runs a hand through his hair.

Abby is more lost than ever. “Ah.”

Taking a deep breath, Luka continues, finally looking over at her. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful she helped me get here and took care of me, but we were never serious.”

Something starts to tug at Abby’s heart, squeezing and twisting and kicking to get free. Is it...hope? “Well, I’m glad she got you here safe, but you should have someone staying with you while you recover, Luka. Malaria is dangerous.”

He gives her a look. “I know how dangerous malaria is. I’m getting better. And besides, it wouldn’t have been fair for me to ask her to stay when things are over because I’m in love with someone else.”

Her heart leaps into her throat. “Someone else?” she squeaks.

Luka nods, swallowing. “Yeah. And I have a reason to think she might be in love with me too.” He slides over to her side of the couch, reaching for her hand.

Abby meets his eyes—those beautiful green eyes that are the best color in the world—and squeezes his hand, incapable of words. Does he mean…?

With his other hand, Luka reaches up and cups her cheek, running his thumb along the subtle arch of her cheekbone. “Abby, if you’ve changed your mind since you sent that email, please tell me to shut up.”

That stupid, ridiculous email might be the best thing she’s ever done in her life. She leans into his hand, licking her lips as she shakes her head slightly. “I haven’t changed my mind. I didn’t mean for you to see it and hoped I could learn how to hack computers and delete it but—”

Luka cuts her off. “I would never forgive you if you managed to delete it. You wouldn’t believe how much faster I healed after that.”

Abby leans forward, sliding into Luka’s waiting arms. “Then maybe I’ll write you some more emails.”

“Emails aren’t what I want right now,” Luka says.

Funny, Abby doesn’t either. Then his lips brush hers, and all her worries and fears fade away. She knows she has to tell him about med school and he needs to finish recuperating, but when Luka deepens their kiss and pulls her closer, Abby ceases to think at all.

She has Luka back, and now they have each other again.

#er #nbc er #er ff #luby #luby ff #abby lockhart #luka kovac #<3 #my fanfic

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finalgirlbuffysummers · 4 years ago

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okay here it is. The rest is below the cut.

You would think that living on a Hellmouth made the nightmares worse. That every night would be screaming torment, but really, the hollow earth below never really prowled the dreams of its lesser citizens. Sure, the vampires and their teeth made appearances, dead classmates, the prickling curent of the wind, but waking up and knowing your neighbor heard the same bump in the night, knowing you survived to see the sun: that’s your bitter reward. Your comfort. It’s normal here, perched on the lip above the sharpest tooth.

No, the nightmares get worse ten years down the line. You’re out of highschool. You wake up alone. You wake up in a city that doesn't understand you, strangers who want to prescribe you medicine or tell you to mediate. So you end up alone, and you know alone is how they like you. You’re not sure if demons lurk in your new city. You thought once that a man standing on the corner lit his cigarette with massive purple claws, and you ran, your feet echoing like gunshots through the streets.

You never did learn to shoot a gun. You keep it in your nightstand drawer, but you know it wouldn't stop anything that's followed you out of California, out of Sunnydale. Once, you had a girlfriend. Rummaging around for a hair tie she discovered your small handgun, your safety blanket. She picked it up with her forefinger and her thumb, like it was filthy, like she didn't understand. “Why do you keep one of these awful things?” You couldn't answer her.

There's no girlfriend now. No one to make you coffee in the morning, no one to rub your back when you wake up with the feeling of teeth in your throat, tight grips on your ankles. She got tired of you, you poor, novel thing from the west.

So it's been weeks. So it's been grocery shopping at 3am, staring at the wilting vegetables, trying to stay out of your apartment. It's been staying longer at the museum you work at. No, you don’t work there just to read the old books for some kind of answer, you lie. At your highschool, there was a librarian who kept swords. You think about sending him an email: Hey, Mr. Giles, do you sleep at night? Does it get easier? Where might I acquire a sword such as yours? You draft hundreds before you realize you have no idea where to send them.

Your classmates don't keep in touch. there is no Facebook group, there is no reunion. There can’t be: Sunnydale is no more. It collapsed in itself. This should be comforting: but all you can think of is the beasts who crawled out of the pit, who remember the stink of your fear. Some folks stayed local, moving just a town over, the low thrum from the throat of hell enough the lull them into a stupid haze of breakfast, lunch, and getting eaten for dinner. The rest left. There are two hundred, give or take, Sunnydale immigrants scattered around the country, waking up alone. Waking up with a gun in their hands. Waking up dead. Your school newspaper had an obituary page. The boy who ran it wrote well, you thought, if cynical. Who the hell can blame him? Mr. Giles, you write. How come it didn't get us? Why are we still left? Mr. Giles, can you tell me if it's following us?

Last week a friend of a friend called you to say Dennis had died. Dennis… you remember now. He was the lead singer in that band, what was it? Something about Dingoes. You ask how he died. Sunnydale habits: You keep an ear out for the signs. The friend says, puncture wounds, on the neck. Police suspect it was inflicted by a barbeque fork. You drop the phone. You sharpen stakes, get splinters in your palms. Buy crucifixes by the dozen. More than once, you’ve slept in a church pew, under the painted ceiling. At work, your boss asks with some concern about the dark circles under your eyes. Long night, you say. You are starting to hate this city. In this city, there’s no hero.

Yes, you remember her. You know everyone else does, too. Buffy. One time, you saw her sparring with the librarian. No swords, just fists. Another time, she crawled out of your biology classroom window at the arrival of a dark haired girl who blew her kisses. One time, she slammed the computer science teacher against her own desk. Wacky shit. You knew, though. That Sunnydale High had to be the safest place in town because of her. She killed things, probably. Definitely. Then she left. Sometimes, there are whispers: “I heard Buffy’s in Rome.” “I heard she lives in a castle.” “I heard she’s dead.” God, please, no. After every long night, you pray she still lives. That she hasn't let her guard down. It's midnight. You draft another email. Mr. Giles. Buffy’s still alive, right? Please tell me she’s okay. People keep dying, Mr. Giles, and we’re not even in Sunnydale anymore. Can you tell me what happened there? Why can't I stop dreaming about the destroyed graves of everyone who died? Can you tell me anything at all? Mr. Giles, Dennis is dead. Oz’s friend. I hope Oz is alive, too. I hope you’re alive. I hope you’re well. Take care. This time, you call a colleague in London. You track down Gile’s email through a stroke of luck, and you hit send. You don’t hear back at all.

Three months later, you receive a response. You’d almost forgotten about the message you sent. Your museum opened a new and successful gallery You received a promotion. You’ve been successful. (Yes, you’re even sleeping more. Shh, don’t say it too loud). You open the email.

Greetings and glad to hear from you- it’s wonderful to hear from old students. I do hope you’re well.

There is no easy way to answer these emails. Yes, you're not the only one who’s managed to reach me. I won’t disclose my location, or hers, but I can tell you that Buffy is safe, and alive, and I think she’s happy. She’s been happy for a while. I’ll tell her you asked, she likes to know that old classmates are doing well. Yes, Oz is alive. He’s been in Tibet for some time, though we do hear from him on occasion. He heard about Denis’s passing. Truly a tragedy.

I’m quite pleased to hear you’ve entered museum studies: a deeply satisfying and enriching work. I hope that you are finding enough answers with it. I know that living on- Well, where we lived is disorienting, confusing. I’ll try to answer you as best I can.

The swords I kept in the library (do never tell anyone I did that) I received as a present form a collector friend, who is long dead and whose collection is long scattered. The rest of the blade I received from my employers. I do not recommend keeping swords in your home as a safety measure. Invest in a good lock. Invest in protection charms found in books of the dark arts. I checked: your museum has some in collection. (Since you are emailing me, I can only guess that you’ve accepted explanations beyond those from the metaphysical realm).

I do sleep at night, thank you for asking. It gets easier. I don’t say this just because I’ve put an ocean between myself and Sunnydale, no: time does heal. It helps that I’m with people who understand. It helps to name the thing in the dark. I’ll put you in contact with a colleague of mine- he’s in your museum network- and you can begin to build yourself a circle, if you wish.

There is no reason that we live, my friend. There's no reason why any of our friends died. Your life is not a curse, I can promise you that. This isn’t borrowed time.

If you were being followed it would have gotten you by now. I apologize for my bluntness.

Oh, the ageless question of what happened. All the time in the world and I couldn’t give you a satisfactory answer. What would I say? That vampires haunt the sunniest part of California? That hell is real, and it can speak? I believe you already know the outline. What I can comfort you on is that yes. There are people who find evil, and they stop it. They haven't gone away. But that's not the point: don’t worry about them. Sunnydale is gone, dear student. It’s up to you to name the thing in the dark, keep it at bay. Be watchful, be wise. The world is bigger than most people know.

Sincerely,

Rupert Giles

You close your laptop. You stretch your legs. You go into the bedroom to retrieve the handgun, then place it on the kitchen counter. You stare at it. It doesn't move. You stare. The apartment is still, like the city is holding it in its throat. The clock strikes 4 am. It’s just a clock. It's just a gun. In your apartment, you’re just you, waiting for the sun to rise.

END

#well. here it is #reviews appreciated :)#btvs #buffy summers #btvs fanfic #btvs fanfiction #buffy #rupert giles #giles #vampires #daniel osbourne #sunnydale

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magnoliasinbloom · 4 years ago

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Lie To Me - 15

AO3 :: Previously

It’s been five days since Jamie was discharged from the hospital. Two days of antibiotics, some painkillers, and a stubborn Scot who very much dislikes being waited on hand and foot.

Claire sighs, watching Jamie sleep. He lays on his back, one arm crossed over his flat stomach, breathing deeply; the other rests in the support to avoid jarring it. She cannot forget Geillis’s call, telling her that Jamie was in the hospital for an injured hand; she can’t put from her mind the fear, the apprehension while she packed a bag and Ubered to a flat in the Bridgeton area. Geillis met her there, gave her keys, and told her to wait for Jamie.

G is really going above and beyond. Claire turns in the bed, taking in the sparse furnishings. Jamie had told her who the flat had belonged to, and the first thing she had done was change the sheets on the bed.

G had kept her away from the hospital, taking on extra shifts to cover for her; she must be exhausted. Jamie didn’t want Geillis here, said it couldn’t be risked. But still, she had gotten some of Jamie’s clothes from his flat, shopped for groceries, then finally delivered Jamie himself from the hospital.

“He’ll need help showering—not that ye’d mind, I ken.” Geillis waggles her eyebrows mischievously, trying to bring some levity into the situation.

And so, Claire shuttles between her own flat, the hospital, and spends her nights with Jamie. He tells her briefly haltingly what had truly happened to his hand. Claire weeps in horror and despair; Jamie says the best thing is to lay low for now, and he prays fervently that Grey and Murtagh will come through soon.

Claire agrees, hoping for the best, but afraid in her heart—not only for Jamie and the situation they find themselves in, but for them. Jamie, as a fit, healthy young man is understandably frustrated that he cannot do certain simple tasks with an injured hand, and truly puts the word ‘patient’ to the test. He accepts only the bare minimum of care from her, and sends her off to work every morning with a mere kiss on the cheek. Nothing else.

Jamie hasn’t touched her except when absolutely necessary, utilitarian touches to help him step out of the tub, get dressed, being handed a plate. It doesn’t help that Jamie is left-handed, and his dominant hand is the one out of commission.

Claire understands he is in pain, physical and spiritual. He wakes up in a nightmare, lets himself be comforted a bit before pushing her gently away to her side of the bed. He let her glimpse it once only, when he said, “I can bear pain myself, but I canna stand yers.”

And Claire understands.

The rockheaded man doesn’t want to touch her, accept more of her comfort, fearing his uncles would know and come for her, hurt her like they had him.

Jamie spends his days reading, catching up on emails, working from home. The last one he’d read was from Dougal himself, telling him he was expected back at the end of the week, business as usual, injury or no. Murtagh had called only once, to tell him they were uncovering a wealth of information thanks to Randall, and to be patient, sit tight.

He supposes returning to the office would be better than moping around uselessly in the flat. It would help take his mind off lying each night next to Claire, anxious to touch her, but afraid. So afraid.

How could she still want him after all this? Perhaps she remains in the flat, caring for him merely out of a misplaced sense of duty, a physician’s oath to help and do no harm. He can’t imagine she wants to touch him either, with all these new scars he has to bear.

Jamie broods on the sofa, tapping away at his laptop one-handed until he hears the key in the lock. Claire is back, holding a Tesco grocery bag; she immediately proceeds to make dinner. He can see some sort of chicken dish with a side of veg on the counter. What disturbs him most is Claire banging pots and utensils around, her lips pursed and the occasional huff, but she does not address him. In fact, he recalls, she did not even say hello when she walked in. It is not like her to not tell him things, so he finds his voice and asks her.

“Sassenach, what is it? Something at the hospital?”

“No.” Her tone, so icy, gives him a sinking feeling in his wame.

“Is it me?”

“Of course it’s you. It’s always you.” Claire finally turns to him, tears of frustration lining her eyes. How could he be so bloody blind? “Have I not been here for you, helping you? Or at least, trying to help you!” She throws her hands up in exasperation, tossing a tea towel onto the counter. “And you keep shutting me out.”

Jamie swallows hard. “A nighean, I havena… I mean, ye dinna ken—”

“Oh, I ken alright. Haven’t I proved beyond a doubt that I love you, that I’m not going anywhere? I’m in this as deep as it gets, and for you, James Fraser, I am willing to give myself and everything I know because I love you, you idiot!”

The words come out before she can stop them, days of not being able to express how much she is hurting for him, how much she wants to make it better for him, and can’t. Claire takes up the tea towel again and turns her back on Jamie, lips pressed tightly so he won’t hear her cry, but shoulders shaking weakly.

James is speechless, mouth agape. Finally, he says gruffly, “I’m meant to take care of ye, mo nighean donn. It is who I am, how I was raised. I want to take care of ye, cherish ye, protect ye… but how can I do that when I couldna even protect myself?” He raises his injured hand helplessly, a familiar burst of anger in his chest that slowly dissolves as Claire turns her tear-stained face back to look at him.

“Because we can take care of each other, cherish each other. As for protection… I can protect myself too, you bloody fool. It doesn’t make you any less of a man for needing my help.” She takes a deep breath, and Jamie goes to her, his hand on her cheek as he wipes away the traces of tears.

“Mo chridhe, how can you have me like this?”

“I will have you any way I can. Always.”

“Claire, after everything ye’ve done for me—I’ve lied, I’ve cheated, I’ve stolen time wi’ ye I wasn’t meant to have.” He turns to face her, and he finds nothing but trust and love in her gaze. “I have betrayed and broken trust. But there is the one thing that shall lie in the balance. When I shall stand before God, I shall have one thing to say, to weigh against the rest. Lord, ye gave me a rare woman, and God! I loved her well.”

Jamie takes her hands in his, splint and all, and Claire kisses the tips of his fingers. Twining hands together, she leads him to their shared bed. She proceeds to divest him of his clothes, and she quickly undresses herself. Jamie frowns at the black, Velcroed contraption on his hand, but Claire turns his thoughts away from it as she touches him where he wants her most.

They make love; Jamie crying out his pleasure over and over again, and only one of those times was because of pain in his hand.

x-X-x

Claire feels Jamie rise from the bed, and she burrows further under the covers as a cold puff of air takes his place. She watches drowsily as he goes to dresser where she stashed the clothes Geillis had brought him.

Jamie rummages inside the drawer, and finds one more thing he had asked Geillis to get from his flat, a small, black velvet bag. Naked, the spotty heating in the flat almost useless, he nestles closely against Claire, before pulling her up against his chest.

Sitting behind her, Jamie clumsily pours the contents of the bag into his hand with a soft, clinking noise. Claire feels something cool and hard settle against her collarbones, as Jamie places a pearl necklace over her head.

“These were my mother’s,” Jamie breathes into her ear, his voice a whisper in the dark. “They are verra precious to me, as are you, Claire.” She feels tears line her eyes again, but for a different reason. “I give them to ye, because I canna give ye a ring yet, but take them as my promise to ye, that we will get through this until I can swear before God that I will be yours and ye can be mine forever.”

“I already am,” she says huskily, fingering the smooth white pearls in wonder.

Jamie leans forward, and kisses the freckles on her shoulder, one by one. Claire tries to turn in his arms to thank him properly, but he won’t let her, trapping her arms against her body as he continues to press his lips against her skin.

“What are you doing?” Claire asks, laughing softly.

“There are constellations here. Let me take my time, Sassenach, that I may name them all. This will take all night.”

- - -

A/N: Thank you everyone for your support! A bit of bad news: this story will go on hiatus for a couple of weeks. I’ve been having flaring wrist pains and been diagnosed with tendinitis. Although most of the story is written out (and please know that I know how this will end) the next 3 chapters are not complete. Unfortunately, because of my wrist, this means I cannot take time to type out the stuff I need, until the doctor gives me the all-clear. So let’s take 2 weeks and hopefully my wrist will be better and I can write again. Thank you for understanding! <3

#outlander #outlander fanfic #jamie and claire #ltm15 #thank you for reading and commenting and liking #i appreciate every single one of you

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treasureswordsgirl55 · 3 years ago

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First Dance Since 1943

Character: James Bucky Barnes

Inspired by (song): I still don’t remember it, actually 😬

Pairing: Bucky Barnes/ Fem!StarkScientist Reader

Warnings: Fluff. Dancing at Work. Insecurities. Jokes. Memories.

Author's Note: Hello!!! I hope you're ok today ❤️.

First of all, thanks you for all the replies on my last Fics! Really that is very appreciated 😍

This fic was the first that I ve write with Bucky when the series came out, so... This was the first steps of my new (lost) love about Bucky (And Sebastian too)

I hope you like this one!!!

XOXO ❤️

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- Leslie - He raised his head as soon as he heard Joaquín's voice and gave him a smile when he saw him poke his head through the door of my office, even though it is transparent - I bring Sam with me so you can take a look at Redwing.

- It will be my pleasure - I mutter as I type a quick reply to Agent Johnson about the malfunction of Agent Sousa's new pistol. Men who come from bygone ages have serious problems with modern technology - How can I help you?

He looked up from the laptop and my eyes meet that sad look that my dreams seemed to reflect conscientiously. The owner of those blue eyes and painful memories sees me with a hint of a smile while his partner holds Redwing as if I were going to touch him just to detonate him.

- I want it to be clear that I let you intervene with him only because Torres made it clear to me that you worked for Stark.

I give a laugh that reflects my nervousness as I turn to Bucky.

- Sergeant Barnes.

- Hey. How have you been, Leslie? - The way my name sounds in his voice, which is seductive without even looking for it makes him feel that my legs melt like jelly at those words.

- Busy with so much work - I reach out to Sam making a mental note of how good that blue shirt looks on Bucky and coming to the conclusion that men who come from 1940 like the color blue - What is it? What it's the problem?

- The laser was decalibrated. I wanted to repair it but it was impossible.

- If you let me examine it, at most I will have it ready in a couple of hours - The soldier nods somewhat suspiciously but takes a step back as soon as I take that small device. - The dream of any woman, to fix one of the many work items of the Avengers.

Sam laughs as he begins to explain that he is no longer part of the Avengers as many believe. To all this, Bucky, as I allow myself to call him in my thoughts, is in silence, leaning against one of the many glass walls of the room, looking out of the building and I do not doubt for a second when I believe that he was not paying attention in the least to our conversation.

Joaquín's voice interrupts my thoughts and from the smile he brings, I know that every time he meets these two men, he considers himself one of the luckiest beings in the universe.

- Excuse me, Sam - The two men turn around as I turn the little drone and see the typical signs that this prototype of Stark technology is very poorly maintained. I make a mental note not to say that to Sam and concentrate on fixing the laser as I hear them being called from "Higher Spheres" as I call high-ranking Air Force people - They need you, there's a new report on the mission in Libya.

- Take good care of him, Leslie - I nodded smiling without looking up and muttered a "Better than you, sure" that was only audible to me.

If there was one thing he hated about Stark technologies, it was that, in addition to having the F.R.I.D.A.Y tech matrix, and without it, he couldn't do much more than touch some cables and hope the little drone would work. And i prayed that would work, otherwise i would have to ask Pepper for permission to use her facilities, but Sam would flatly refuse to take Redwing to Stark Industries.

- He screwed it up, didn't he?

I jerked my head up when I heard Bucky's voice and when I looked at him, he was still in the same position as before, looking outside the building.

- I thought you had left with Sam ...

- Excuse me, I did not want to scare you - He approached the table where i was working and indicated the drone with his metal arm, which he no longer hid under layers of clothing, much less, leather gloves - He treats that drone very badly .

- Sorry?

- Do you think that murmur was imperceptible only for you? I assure you that Sam heard it too- I cursed as he dropped the tools i had in my hands and covered my face with both, wishing that the earth would open and swallow me, as a minimum option.

- Why didn't you go with Sam? and please do not get me wrong, I like the company and I like that you are here, but it is simple curiosity - I cursed myself internally as I listened over and over again to the words that I had said aloud and I wanted the earth to pity me again and swallow me. Definitely Joaquín's idea of just nodding and not talking was an excellent idea to implement.

Had I told him out loud that I liked him being there? Oh my God…

- This is Sam's land, I don't fit in here.

- And yet, here you are - I take Redwing and walk to the testing room of the laboratory that is adjacent to my office, where the music begins to play as soon as I enter the small room and as much as I want to deactivate it, I can not do it. I resign myself as soon as I hear Bucky's footsteps behind me and as soon as he enters the room, it seems too small with him there. I put the drone on the long metal table that occupies a large part of it and I type the password in the auxiliary panel of one of the screens around me and the little drone turns on, taking flight a few meters above our heads - At least It leaves me happy that I still fly with all those blows.

- I'm surprised that it's still whole - Bucky's murmur makes me laugh as I calibrate the laser to shoot the target in front of him. I try to shoot but nothing happens. I curse silently as I see from the corner of my eye that the man cautiously observes the room, as he stops when the first melodies of “She's got a Way” by Billy Joel begin to play- Do you like the music of the 20th century?

- I'll tell you the truth: I don't like current music, I prefer the lyrics of 1980s artists where they say heartfelt things rather than the lyrics that speak about certain topics in a very direct way. 1980 was a very good time, maybe you would like it.

- I have a list of songs on Spotify that I listened to in the 40's. I thought I couldn't find them again - The hint of melancholy that invades his voice makes for a moment that I wanted to meet that 23-year-old young man who should be very different from the one in front of me, with a totally different way of being and without all the suffering that would happen later - What if, that was when I learned to use a computer.

- You know, you would get along with Agent Sousa from SWORD - He turned at the mention of the new agency with a frown, clearly annoyed at the idea of interacting with another agency. - He's just like you, technically speaking.

- He went through psychological torture and became a Hydra assassin? -The sincerity and ease with which those words came out of his mouth made my eyes fill with tears. The pain in his voice made my words sound clearly wrong in that conversation.

- No ... He also comes from an ancient time, like you and Steve. Only Daniel was taken out of 1955 because of Agent Coulson and his feeling of not being able to let him die in front of his eyes - Bucky nodded as he stood next to me again and watched my movements on the screen trying to get Redwing to respond, something that did not happen - Perhaps it would do them good to chat between the two ... You are not from the same era, but I imagine that their feelings towards this century are similar, and both are adapting. You can get to understand each other more than they think.

- I will keep it in mind…. Thank you, Doll - I felt the heat begin to rise up my neck at that nickname and I assumed that my cheeks must be a scarlet red color, because, despite the fact that it was cold in that room, I felt that I was on fire - I all this is strange, even though I know this technology, it is difficult for me not to relate it to all this - Unconsciously, he touches his metal arm and I let out a sigh. I'd like to know how to help him get through that, but I don't know how to do it without bringing up bad memories.

- Is there something you like?

- What are you talking about? - I put aside the PADD I had in my hands and touched the "Stand By" button for Redwing to return to his original position in the center of the table.

- Sometimes, learning becomes easier when there is something you like - I lean on the table while he remains silent and I watch him waiting for his answer, but all I get is a smile about something he is thinking - What makes you smile?

- Dance. I haven't danced in a long time. Since 1943, to be exact - He leans on the other end of the table, facing me exactly and gives me a look with a flash of mischief - And I'm not going to those places that they call discos to dance with someone.

I laughed at his tone of indignation, when I could contain my laughter, I saw him watching me with what seemed like affection, but I tried not to give it too much importance, but when I felt that my heart was going to leave my chest so hard it hit my rib cage.

- Why that tone against the discos?

- The music is too loud and there are colored lights that I don't even know what they are called, plus you can't talk to anyone - I laughed again at his complaints that were very sincere and were very similar to mine - Don't make fun of me.

- I do not, I am funny the tone you use. You seem really annoyed with it - Bucky rolls his eyes and taps on the table - What do you miss most about 1940?

- Everything, my family, my friends, my life ... The way I could go to an amusement park and not have to worry about whoever saw me wanted to run out of fear, when I could take a girl on a date without I would worry about my past, dancing with someone, that closeness that made me so comfortable and so relaxing at the same time.

- Well, at least the dance thing can be fixed - I take my iPhone out of my pocket and search the playlist for Eric Clapton's song, Wonderful Tonight and once the notes start to play, I walk over to Bucky, holding out my hand towards him, in an attack of courage, the kind that I don't usually have, but all that was to get a smile from the owner of those beautiful sad eyes - Would you dance this song with me?

Although I notice that my actions catch him off guard, he smiles at me and takes my hand, nodding his head.

When the two of us are standing in front of each other, I realize that I don't know where to put my hands, much less stop to think if that could be uncomfortable for him. I wanted to back away, looking for a good enough excuse before falling into the misfortune of having to apologize to him, but Bucky, who will have simply seen my worried expression, took my free hand and brought it to his forearm, and laid it there gently, While with his right hand he held mine, and with his metal arm, he encircled my waist, drawing me close to him. We began to move slowly to the beat of the music, but he was definitely the one leading the way.

- How does it feel to dance decently again? - I was silent at the inappropriate comment and let out a sigh while I concentrated on trying not to step on it.

- It feels strange to do it after a long time - Bucky ignores my comment or downplays it, but when I look at him, I realize that he is concentrating on remembering the steps and trying to guide the inexperienced woman in front of him.

- To do it a long time ago, you do it very well - He shakes his head, trying not to smile, and before I even knew it, he released one of my hands and made me turn, taking my hand perfectly synchronized at the end of it.

- If Steve were here, I'd say it's innate ability.

- Well, if he makes you feel more comfortable, this is my first time dancing with someone, that is, I dance with a man. And I must admit that I never believed it would be in my workplace.

- Why's that? - I let out a sigh as I watch him at the same time that he looks towards the laboratory door. When he looks back at me, in his blue eyes I can see a flicker of doubt and curiosity.

Anyone could feel safe with my poor social and love life.

- It's weird to dance in your workplace. Everyone here is watching you from the other side of the glass and ...

- I meant because you never danced with anyone - Oh ... I drop my head until it almost touches his chest, but I feel that the pressure of his arm grows stronger around my waist, as if he knows that I am about to fall and I won't notice - I'm sorry if the question bothers you.

- No, no, he doesn't. What happens is that I'm not usually the type of girl who gets asked to dance. Besides, I don't like going to the disco or going out at night. In that respect I am similar to you - I admit while he gives me a smirk - I prefer to stay home and read. Or spend time with my cat.

- Intellectuals are the best - Bucky's voice sounds annoying and safe at the same time, as if something in his own words bothered him.

- But the less interesting for the men of this time apparently, more when they talk a lot about science and current affairs - Between the chords of the music, I get him to laugh. And I must admit, he has a beautiful smile, one of the prettiest I have ever seen, in fact. I start to laugh and in the midst of my laughter, he spins me around again at the same time the song ends.

- Not for me. Are you sure you didn't come out of the 40's like me? - We don't even part, and our hands are still joined as I shake my head.

I smile as I take a step away from him as I pick up my cell phone to stop the music and see him approach the window again.

- No, but I think I was born at the wrong time.

- Thanks for this - his murmur reaches me far away, but with a clear hint of satisfaction in his voice. I smile happy to have served my purpose.

- Thanks to you, at least I have experienced what it feels like to dance with someone.

- You will do it more often, trust me.

- I take the word.

Sam who had arrived at the scene a few minutes before with Torres, smiled as he watched the whole scene and remembered those days when he took advantage of Steve's innocence with women and smiled wistfully when he realized that Bucky was the clear image of his best friend. Seeing him for a moment concentrating on something other than work filled him with satisfaction, perhaps Joaquín's idea of bringing him here hadn't been so bad after all.

Then he would take advantage of letting him know of his observations when the two of them were alone.

I turn towards the door as soon as I hear a series of light knocks and I meet Sam's mischievous smile, who sees me as if he had discovered gold or something much more valuable.

- I'm so sorry to interrupt, but we have work, Buck.

- Sure - Bucky turns to where I am and before he could even move me away, he takes one of my hands and leaves a kiss on it. I can barely contain the sigh that tries to escape from my lips and I simply remain silent, feeling how the color begins to invade my cheeks, in the company of the heat - Thanks for the dance.

- My pleasure, Sergeant Barnes.

Sam, who is behind us, rolls his eyes and leans against the door while Bucky approaches him with a heavy sigh - Don't even think about making jokes about this.

- Did I say something? - I let out a laugh at his comical and ironic tone as Bucky walks past him shaking his head. "See you later, Leslie." I need to make some arrangements on the suit.

- Yes Sir.

Sam glares at me as Torres chuckles at my horrified expression. I forgot he don't like me calling him sir.

- Sorry, Sam.

After a few minutes, I find myself alone again, so I return to the laboratory to work on Redwing and allow myself to release that sigh that I have been holding since Bucky appeared in that room.

That moment had been incredible ... Even if it was only that, a moment that will remain in my head.

I startle as soon as I hear a knock on the door, I take off the receiver and as soon as I turn around, I see that the one at the door is Bucky, who has his left hand hidden behind his back.

- You know, "Sergeant" is very formal - he leaves his left hand exposed and has a white flower on it. I doubt if I approach but I do it feeling that the colors begin to invade my face. No one had never given me flowers. That gesture was beautiful, I take it and I respond with a smile - Call me James.

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johnsbleu · 4 years ago

Text

Hold My Hand: John Wick x Reader Chapter 97

warnings: a few quick nsfw moments Hold My Hand Masterlist

The house is almost completely decorated for Christmas even though it’s only the first week of December. You got so excited the day after Thanksgiving, and you went to the store and bought so many decorations. It’s the first time that you and John have been able to really spend Christmas together since he was working this time last year, and you’re so happy to finally have him all to yourself. And instead of going to your mom’s for Christmas, she’s coming to you, which makes you all more excited to show off how nice your house looks for the holidays.

You’re just putting the last touches on the living room while John shovels the walkways and patio since a few inches of snow fell this morning, and you walk over to the window to watch John. His cheeks are tinted red from the cold, and even the tip of his nose has a bit of color too. John waves when he looks at you, and you hold up your mug of warm apple cider to offer it to him.

John told you that Helen used to make it all the time and that he remembered the recipe since it was fairly simple, so he made some this morning. He was so proud of himself when you took a big sip and nodded your head that you liked it, and the smile on his face nearly killed you.

Setting the mug down on the coffee table, you grab the throw blanket and sit down as John comes in and stomps the snow off his boots before he takes off his jacket and removes his boots. He shivers a little as he walks over to sit down next to you, and you wrap the blanket over him and hold him to warm him up.

“You’re so cold,” you laugh, nuzzling into the crook of his neck, “My turn to warm you up, huh?”

John chuckles as he nods, “Yeah, it was a lot colder out than I thought. Hey, the house looks great, by the way.”

“You think so?” you ask, then you shrug as you look around at it, “This is the first time that I’ve been able to really decorate our place. I mean, I did last year, but it was only up for a few days, and you weren’t even home for half of it.”

“Oh, yeah,” John looks over at you and laughs, “I was working then. Anyway, yeah, the house looks great.”

The two of you sit in silence as you look around at the Christmas decorations; the lights strung up, the plump little Santa sitting on the coffee table next to a bowl of cinnamon scented pine cones -- John picked them out because he loved the smell.

One of the things about the living room that you’re always worried about is the fact that the walls are just large glass windows, but you’re starting to warm up to the idea more, especially since it looks beautiful outside with the snow. The Christmas tree is front and center in the window, but it’s bare as of right now since you’ll need John’s help to get lights on it.

“We’ll have to get those lights up on it by tonight.” John says, then he snuggles into your arms, “What have you been doing this morning?”

“Well,” you lean forward a little grab the notebook off the table, “This is probably so dumb, but I really want to do something for your birthday. Before you say anything, let me explain.”

“Baby, it’s fine. I married you, that’s all I would have wanted for my birthday.” he says, and you smile as he reaches over to cup your cheek. “But sure, explain it to me.”

You exhale and look over at him, “We didn’t do anything for your birthday, and I feel bad about it.”

John chuckles as he rubs his thumb over your cheek, “It was three months ago, so it must be really bothering you.”

“Everything was so hectic because our wedding was in just three days, so we just-- I just forgot. I mean, I didn’t forget your birthday, but we just didn’t do anything.” you frown a little, then you perk up and look at John, “I was writing down different ideas for a date night. I want to plan the whole thing for you and surprise you. You do so much for me, so many romantic nights for me, and I want to return the favor.”

John smiles as he nods his head, “That’s sweet.”

You shrug as you hold tight to your notebook since John is trying to take it from you, “No looking! It’s all me. You deserve a surprise.”

“Fine,” he jokingly rolls his eyes and laughs, “Do you have anything in mind yet?”

“I have a few things.” you say as you get up from the couch, and you laugh loudly when he pulls you into his lap and kisses your cheek.

John tucks your hair behind your ear and places another kiss on your cheek, “You look beautiful today, Mrs. Wick.”

“Ah,” you close your eyes and smile, “I’ll never not get butterflies when I hear that. Thanks for reminding me that I’m the wife to an amazing man.”

“Thanks for marrying me.” he laughs against your cheek, “Still don’t understand how I managed that one.”

You wrap your right arm around John’s neck and get situated on his lap, “This is why I want to do something special for you. I want you to know how much I adore you and love you. You’re my favorite person on this planet, and I want you to know that.”

“I do know that,” John lets out a small laugh, “You think I don’t know how much you love me?”

Shrugging, you look down and sigh, “Sometimes I wonder. You just do so much for me.”

“And you do too.” he whispers softly, tilting your chin up so you’ll look at him, “Trust me, I don’t need dates to know that you love me. Just you being here after everything we’ve been through, after everything I’ve told you -- that’s how I know you love me: you’re still here.”

You cup John’s face as you nod your head, growing a little teary eyed, “I’m always going to be here, because I love you. I love this life that we have too. It’s a really good life.”

“It is,” John nods, leaning forward to kiss you as you hug him tighter in your arms.

Tilting your head to the side, you part your lips as John slides his tongue into your mouth, and you hum as his hand glides up your thigh. You lean back and try to look at John as he kisses your neck, “I’m still planning a date, okay?”

“Sure,” he says, paying more attention to getting you upstairs than what you’re saying.

“I mean, you’re probably gonna hate it and everything, but…” you trail off into a bit of a rant as John sucks and kisses on your neck and chest, and he lifts you into his arms as he stands up from the couch and heads up to your bedroom. “I think it’ll be fun for us, and maybe we can -- John, are you listening to me?”

“Yeah,” he says, reaching down as he tries to open the door, but he fails, “Will…will you open the door? Why is the door even shut?”

“I had decorations up here that I didn’t want Bleu to chew on,” you cock up your eyebrow and look at him, “Were you even listening to me?”

John takes a deep breath as he prepares to recite everything you’ve just told him, but he lets it out and laughs, “No, I wasn’t.”

“I said I’m still planning a date.” you hold his gaze as he looks at you, then you reach over and open the door, giving John a disapproving but playful look as he laughs.

“You can plan whatever you’d like and I’ll be on board. I promise.” he say, plopping you down on the bed and immediately laying down on you, “Anything.”

You close your eyes as John kisses down your neck to your chest as he begins to lift up your shirt, and you reach down and cup his face, “Good.”

Sitting on your bed, you quickly close your laptop screen when you hear John coming up the stairs, and you close your eyes and sigh in relief when Tess turns the corner with Finn on her hip.

“Hey,” she smiles, setting Finn on the bed and then stretching out her arms and back, “What are you doing? I’ve been calling you all morning, but you didn’t answer. Figured I’d just come over.”

You scrunch your eyebrows up and reach over for your phone, then you sigh when you see it’s gone, “Jonathan Charles Wick! Get your butt up here! And bring my phone!”

Several moments later, you see John poke his head around the corner and smile cheekily, “Hi, baby.”

You put your hand out as John walks into the bedroom, and you tap your palm repeatedly, “My phone.”

John laughs as he pulls your phone out of his pocket, pretending to be shocked when he sees it, “Oh, I must have grabbed yours instead of mine.”

“Oh, save it.” you laugh, taking your phone from him and holding it up, “My case has peaches all over it. I’m positive that you know that this isn’t yours.”

Tess looks back and forth between the two of you and laughs, “What is going on here?”

“I’m planning a date night for John, and he thinks I’m stupid enough to search for everything on my phone.” you say, then you shake your head as you reach out to kiss him, “Get out of here because I’m going to tell Tess about it.”

John chuckles as he leans down to give you a better kiss, then he picks up Finn and kisses his cheek, “Fine, but I’m taking him.”

Tess immediately lays down and closes her eyes, “Thank god. Mommy needs a nap. His bottle is in his bag on the couch if he gets fussy.”

You blow a kiss at John as he leaves, then you open your laptop and look at Tess, “So, I’m planning a date night for John, but you and Jimmy are invited. I want to invite Amanda and Aurelio too -- and their kids. Finny is too little.”

“Ooh, I’m intrigued.” Tess sits up and looks at your laptop.

“90s night at the roller rink in Brighton.” you smile as you look over at Tess, “This place doesn’t just have skating. There’s an arcade, bowling, and laser tag.”

Tess puts her hand over her mouth and laughs, “Shut up! Yes! Let’s do it.”

“John will be totally out of his element, and I’m praying that he loves me enough to do this.” you turn your laptop to show Tess, “They play 90s music all night, and come on, it just looks fun.”

Leaning over to look at the pictures, Tess nods, “I think he’ll have fun.”

“I hope so,” you take a deep breath and look at her, “Are you free tomorrow?”

“Oh, absolutely. I’ll drop Finn off with his Grandma, and then I’m free all night.”

You pick at your nails as you look at your laptop, then you lean down to make sure you clear your search history -- John just can’t stand being out of the loop. You close the laptop and set it aside, then you and Tess head downstairs to see John laying on the living room floor with Finn next to him as they play with some toys.

John is not so patiently waiting for your ovulation day, which is less than a week away at this point, and you’re both hoping like hell that this will be the time. You so badly want to have a baby with him, and you’re just praying that it happens soon.

“Hi, handsome,” you smile as you sit down on the floor next to Finn, and he pulls himself up to you. You look over at John and wink, “You too.”

“John, you’re gonna love this.” Tess says, smiling at him when he sits up, “It’ll be fun, and you love your wife, so you’re not going to complain.”

You scoff, “Yeah, well, we’ll see.”

You’re not too thrilled to have to drive in the snow, but you don’t want John to drive because then he’ll know exactly where you’re going. John keeps offering to drive so you don’t have to, but you smile and shake your head.

“I’m not going to get sick, am I?” John asks as you both walk out to the car, and you furrow your brow when you look at him. “Like rollercoasters?”

You laugh as you get in the car, “It’s December.”

“Oh, yeah, true.” John exhales, pulling on his seat belt.

You pull onto the street and begin to drive to Brighton while John fumbles around with the radio to find something to listen to. He lets out a small sigh and reaches into your purse for your phone, then he connects it to the Bluetooth and starts to play a playlist you’ve made of songs for the two of you, and he looks over at you to check for your reaction when one of his favorite songs comes on.

“Ooh, good song choice.”

John smiles as he looks over at you, “This song reminds me of you.”

“Well isn’t that odd?” you glance over at him and smile, “Because it reminds me of you!”

Leaning over to kiss your cheek, John quietly sings along to the song, and you smile when you meet his gaze for a moment before you focus on driving. You’re holding tight to the steering wheel as you drive through the snow, but a smile spreads across your face again as you feel John place his hand on your thigh, causing you to finally relax more.

“I’m excited.” John whispers as he looks at you, leaning closer to kiss your cheek. “Can I have a hint?”

“Hmm…” you tilt your head a little, “I don’t know. Let me think. Well, it could be a sweet date for any age. Families, first dates, teenage couples.”

John laughs, “A carnival?”

“December, John.”

“Oh, yeah.” he chuckles.

“No more guessing, you’re gonna figure it out.” you shake your head and look over at John, “I want to surprise you.”

“Okay, okay,” he laughs, leaning over to kiss your cheek again, “You smell good, baby.”

You smile as you look over at John, and your stomach fills with butterflies when your gaze meets his. How the hell is he your husband? You’re still not quite used to it.

“Hey, am I dressed okay?” he asks, gesturing to his gray t-shirt and denim jeans, “I noticed you were in a t-shirt and jeans, so I just dressed more casual.”

You look over John’s outfit and nod, “Perfect. I love this shirt on you, by the way. You look very handsome.”

“Thanks,” John looks down at it and fixes it, then he inhales deeply and looks over at you again, “Sorry, I keep looking at you.”

“I’ve noticed.” you chuckle softly, then you look over at John, “Why is that?”

John chuckles as he shrugs, “Can’t believe you’re my wife. I’m still having a hard time wrapping my head around it.”

“No shit? Because me too!” you laugh as you look at him, “I can’t believe it. I’m so lucky.”

Reaching over, John places his hand on the back of your head and scratches his fingers against your scalp, “I can’t imagine my life without you, peach.”

You smile softly as you look at John, then you reach over and pinch his cheek lightly, “I really hope you like this.”

John smiles tenderly as he looks at you, “I will.”

“Okay, Jonathan, I gotta ask a weird question.”

John chuckles as he looks at you, “Okay.”

“In my purse, there’s a bandana. I need you to put it over your eyes.” you say, and John laughs as he looks at you in disbelief, “Please, baby, I want you to be surprised!”

“Fine,” he chuckles, putting the bandana over his eyes, “Just because you’re so cute.”

Pulling into the parking lot, you wave when you see Amanda and Aurelio have already arrived with their kids, and you pull into a spot next to them. Jimmy pulls up next to you and laughs when he sees John with a bandana over his eyes.

“Stay here.” you get out of the car and walk over to Amanda, “Okay, he has no idea where we are, so we gotta keep it a secret.”

Amanda kneels down next to Benji and looks at him, “Uncle John is getting a surprise, okay? Don’t tell him where we are. Don’t say anything.”

“Got it, mommy!” he says, then he smiles at you.

You open the door and reach for John’s hand, and he laughs as he gets out, “Everyone’s here. You just can’t see them.”

“Hi, Uncle John!”

John chuckles as he blindly reaches out to pat Benji’s head, “Hi, Benji.”

“Okay, I feel bad for the poor thing. Let’s get him inside.” you laugh taking John’s hand as you all head to the building, making sure he doesn’t trip on the stairs. “Oh, there’s going to be music playing, so keep that in mind.”

Pushing the door open, you smile wide when you see the colorful lights strobing around the skate rink, and you squeal a little when you see the arcade is lit up with a black light and neon signs. You turn around and reach up to pull the bandana off of John, and he blinks a few times to get his eyes to adjust.

“Surprise! We’re going skating!” you clasp your hands in front of your chest and wait for John’s reaction.

“Wow…” he laughs as he looks around, then he smiles when he sees his friends. “I never would have guessed this.”

You look at John as everybody walks away to the arcade and skate rental, and you shrug when he looks at you. You bite your lip nervously and shrug again since John isn’t really having a reaction. You look over your shoulder as Tess and Jimmy lace up their skates, then you look to your right to see Benji and Aurelio playing a game in the arcade.

“Hey,” John wraps his arms around your waist and smiles, “This is good.”

“Is it? You didn’t have much of a reaction. If you don’t like this, please tell me and we can go somewhere else.”

John shakes his head and leans down to kiss you, “No, no, this is great! I just…I can’t skate.”

“Are you sure that’s it? Don’t tiptoe around my feelings, it doesn’t help me.”

“I am positive, but…” he pulls you closer and smiles, “I’m willing to put on a pair of skates and let you teach me.”

You smile as you lean up to kiss John and wrap your arms around his neck as he lifts you up. He walks over to Jimmy and Tess with you in his arms, then he sets you down.

“Get your skates!” Tess says, standing up as she looks at you, “I’ll go with you.”

You give John a quick kiss, then you hold hands with Tess as you walk over to get some skates. You sit down on the ground and put them, rolling a little in place to make sure they’re snug, and you smile when you see Amanda tying Benji’s skates.

“Aunt Y/N, will you help me?” he asks, looking up at you, “My mom can’t skate with me because of my little sister, and my dad said he’s too cool.”

Amanda laughs, “No, baby, he didn’t say that. I said he thinks he’s too cool.”

“I would love to help you. Aunt Tess is going to help too!” you say, snapping Benji’s buckle on his helmet.

You take Benji’s hand as he stands up, and he grips so tight to you that your hand turns a little red. He grabs Tess’ hand too, then he slowly skates with you over to the opening to the rink. Tess lets go of his hand so he can hold onto the wall and your hand, and you smile and wave at John as he leans over the wall to watch.

“Can you make it to Uncle John?” you ask, pointing at John as he waves at Benji. You let go of Benji’s hand and stand in front of him, skating backwards as you put your hands out, “I won’t let you fall.”

Jimmy dances past as you laugh, then he quickly skates up behind Tess. You look back at Benji, and you feel John’s hand on your back when you get to him.

“You made it!” you smile at Benji, then you watch him as Jimmy and Tess take his hands and skate with him. You look at John and lean over to kiss him before you dance away from him as you sing along with the song, and you wave him over.

John shakes his head, “Soon though.”

Skating over to Tess, you smile when you see Benji laughing as he clings to Jimmy’s hand, and Tess watches with a smile on her face. You look up as you get closer to John, and you dance by as he talks with Amanda. You stop in front of him and jokingly dance to get his attention, and he reaches out for you, pulling close by your fingertips.

“Amanda, why don’t you skate with Benji?” you ask, and you look over at Aurelio struggling to skate, “Benji convinced Aurelio.”

“Our first date was to the roller rink when we were 17.” she laughs, then she shakes her head, “He’s just as bad now as he was then.”

John looks at her and shrugs, “I can watch Harper.”

Amanda smiles as she hands Harper over to John, then she quickly walks over to get a pair of skates. You look at John as he bounces Harper in his arms, and you lean against the wall and smile as you watch him.

“You look good with a baby.” you smile, then you gasp, “I love this song. I gotta go.”

John and Harper wave at you when you skate away, and you sing the song as Tess skates over to you. The lights start to dim as a disco ball spins in the center of the rink, and you smile when you see Jimmy with Tess, and Amanda and Aurelio with Benji. As you skate past John, you see him bouncing Harper as he sits down on the bench, and you head over to the wall to sit down next to him.

Tess plops down next to John and exhales loudly, “I’m dying of thirst.”

“Wanna head to the arcade?” you ask John as Tess takes Harper, then you get up and change back into your shoes. You hold tight to John’s hand as you head into the arcade, and you smile when he feeds a few dollars to a machine in exchange for some tokens. “So, be honest, are you having fun?”

“I am,” he nods, looking at you, “It’s fun seeing you out there, and now I’m gonna win you something.”

You jokingly roll your eyes as you cling to John’s arm, “Okay.”

John stops in front of a shooting game and winks at you as he puts a token in the machine. He holds up the shotgun and watches as a deer runs across the screen, and he shoots it. He does the same thing several more times until he sees the tickets coming out of the machine.

“Ooh, 10 whole tickets. I can totally get the slap bracelet.” you joke, and John scrunches his eyebrows as he laughs.

“No, I’m winning you that teddy bear.” he says, pointing at the tie-dyed teddy bear hanging on the wall, and you smile as you look at him. “Only the best for my girl.”

As soon as John realized that they had laser tag, he couldn’t be convinced not to play. You’re all standing with the ugly little vests on, and it’s husbands against wives, well, it’s John, Jimmy, and Aurelio against you, Tess and Benji since Amanda has Harper, but John offered to watch her again after this round.

“I’m gonna kick your ass in this,” you tease as you look at John, “Just watch.”

John puffs his chest up and scoffs, “Sure.”

You give John one last kiss before you head into the door opposite of the door he’s going in, and you jokingly glare at him as he laughs. Benji clings to your back pocket, and you and Tess both stand in front of him as to protect him so he isn’t out right away.

Tiptoeing slowly into the room, you look around to find a corner for Benji, then you point at it and kneel down, “Wait here, Aunt Tess and I will lure them over to you, then you’ll get them with a sneak attack.”

“You know you’re not whispering very quietly, peach.” John says, and you immediately turn around to protect Benji.

You look over your shoulder at Benji, then you and Tess both begin to tiptoe around the little arena. It’s not completely dark since there’s a light with different strobing colors, but it is really hard to see. You know that John is probably having no trouble at all -- he’s trained for this.

Tess squeals loudly as she runs away from Jimmy who is chasing her, then you hear Benji laughing when Aurelio spots him, which means John is probably stalking right behind you or somewhere near you. Taking a deep breath, you stop in place as you look around, then you immediately turn around as John shoots you.

“You ass!” you shoot John back and laugh as he grabs you by the waist and pushes you against the wall, “Oh, what? You’re gonna kiss me and make it up to me?”

John leans down to kiss you, then he quickly looks over to his left and shoots Tess when she runs past.

“Hey! No fair!” she whines, and you look at John as you laugh.

You shrug a little, “Won’t lie, that was a kinda hot.”

You look down at your vest and see that you only have two red dots left on it, and you look up at John and see he only has two as well. You both hold each other’s gazes, then you immediately shoot him again just as he shoots you.

“One left, peach.” he whispers as he leans down to kiss you, sucking on your bottom lip a little as you lean in for more, but he stops and starts to walk away.

“I’ll find you again.” you say, and John scoffs as he backs away from you, lifting his laser gun up. “You wouldn’t. I’m your wife!”

John smirks as he stops walking, and you look down to see the last red dot has gone out.

“You ass!”

“Time to strap some skates on you.” you laugh against his lips, and John jokingly groans. “Don’t worry, no one is going to look at you and laugh. Everyone’s worried about themselves.”

“I just don’t want to embarrass myself in front of you.”

You tilt your head slightly as you smile, “Trust me, you’re not going to. I fell earlier, and I wasn’t embarrassed -- I just laughed!”

“I know, but this is really out of my comfort zone, I can’t lie.” he says, and you nod as you hold his hands. “I love you, I really do. And that is why I am going to get some skates and pray like hell I don’t fall on my face.”

Smiling as you look up at John, you stand on your tiptoes and kiss him as he wraps his arms around you, “I don’t want to make you do anything you don’t want to do.”

“Nah, it’ll be fun.” he says, then he looks over when Benji runs up with his skates, and he looks up at John in hopes that he’ll help him tie them.

“Uncle John, are you gonna come with?”

John nods as he ties Benji’s skates, “Yup, just gotta get my skates.”

Tess and Jimmy are back skating around the rink, and you look over at John before you get your skates. You get your skates on and smile when you see Benji holding tight to John’s hand as he gets a pair of skates. Amanda says something to make John laugh, and he shakes his head as he smiles, putting on his skates. You watch as the two talk, and she reaches over to touch his face.

Amanda is like a little sister to John, and you absolutely adore her. You really look forward to spending more time with her once you have a baby of your own. You know how often Tess and her hang out now since they both have kids, and you totally want in on that. In fact you cried to John the other night because you called Tess to hang out but she was out with Amanda. It’s safe to say you were a little jealous.

You smile at John when he looks up at you, then he waves you over to him. You quickly make your way back over to John, and you reach for his hands, pulling him to stand up as he wobbles in place a little. He looks so incredibly out of place in this setting, but it warms your heart how he really wants to do this. His long limbs looks so funny as he wobbles in place, and you put your hands out to keep him from falling.

“You got this, John!” Amanda laughs.

“Go slow.” John whispers as you start to skate backwards with him to the opening of the rink, then he holds onto the wall and stands up straight. He’s so much taller now that he’s wearing skates, and you strain your neck almost to look up at him. “Okay, I think I can do this.”

You keep your hands out in front of John just in case he falls, but if he does, you’re going down with him. Jimmy skates past and slaps John on his back, causing John to teeter a little, and Jimmy grimaces. You reach out to hold John, but his skate slips from under him, and he holds tight to you with his hand on the back of your head as you both tumble to the floor. You’re both laughing hysterically as people skate past, and you check to make sure he didn’t get hurt.

“You’re good?”

John laughs as he nods his head, “I’m good, you?”

“I’m good.” you get up from the floor and help John back up. “You’re doing great, babe.”

Holding tight to your hands, John starts to gain more confidence as you pull him with you, and you smile at him when he inhales deeply, standing up with even more confidence. You dance to the music and sing along to the song while John watches, and you pull him a little closer to kiss you.

“How are you so good at this?”

You intertwine your fingers with John’s and continue skating backwards, “Tess and I went to the skating rink all the time when we were younger. It was the hangout spot for us. Mom would give us each 10 bucks and tell us to come home for dinner. We’d spend the entire afternoon there, but the best was on weekends because all the cool older kids were there. They taught us some cool moves.”

“Did you go on a date to a roller rink in highschool?”

“You know what? I did!” you laugh as you look over your shoulder a little to make sure you’re not going to run over Benji, then you look back at John, “Though my date wasn’t this fun, and definitely not as cute as you.”

John scoffs, holding tighter to your hand as you start to round the corner a little, “But he was a better skater than me.”

“Actually he wouldn’t even put on a pair. He was so boring, yuck. Never went on a date with him again.” you say, then you shrug, “Anyway, I was a junior in highschool when they closed on local roller rink, so we found one that was about 30 minutes away that had these special nights, just like this, and we’d have a blast.”

“This is fun.” John whispers in your ear, and you lean back and smile at him. “I love you.”

“I love you!” you say, then you cup your hands in front of your mouth and yell, “I love this man!”

Sliding his hands into your back pockets, John pulls you closer and whispers in your ear, “Can’t wait to get you home. I’m dying to taste you, hear you scream my name.”

“Well, this is your birthday party, and whatever the birthday boy wants, he should get.” you say, cocking up your eyebrow.

John leans over the wall and looks at you, “Yeah?”

“Yup,” you hop onto the wall and scoot in front of John as you lean closer to his ear, “Can’t wait to get home either, then I can feel you in my mouth, taste you on my tongue…”

John bites his lip as you lean back to look at him, then he looks down at his watch, “Damn, it’s getting late.”

“Shut up!” you laugh as you hop off the way and skate away from John.

You’re holding tight to the tie dye teddy bear that John won for you as he drives home, and you melt when you see the sweetest smile on his face. He won the bear for you after he actually skated with you for a bit, then he pulled you back to the arcade because there was photo booth calling your names. Today went exactly as planned, except for falling several times with John, but that’s okay! He laughed it off and stood back up, and he was determined to get around the rink once without falling.

“I had a lot of fun today, mouse.” he says, glancing over at you, “Thank you for today.”

You reach over and place your hand on his thigh, “You’re welcome. Thanks for indulging me. I know you were so out of your element, and it warmed my heart how you badly you tried to skate, but sweetheart, you’re awful.”

John laughs loudly, nodding his head, “Skating is not my forte.”

“I could see that.” you chuckle, then you lean up to kiss John’s cheek before he pulls into your driveway, “I can already tell I’m covered in bruises from falling so much.”

Groaning a little, you get out of the car and rotate your neck as you rub a sore spot on your lower back, then you look at John as he rubs his left knee before he gets out of the car -- it’s always the left knee.

“Knee bothering you?” you ask, and John nods. “Well, look, I got a present for you--”

John shakes his head, “No.”

“It’s your birthday! Sort of! Just let me give you a birthday present, Jonathan!”

John is still giving you a disapproving look as he unlocks the door, and you roll your eyes as you start to take off your jacket.

“Christmas is only a few weeks away.” John walks over and turns on the Christmas lights, then he gestures to the tree, “There’s already gifts under it for me.”

“Oh, like you don’t have gifts around the house in your sneaky little spots.” you laugh, walking back over to him, “Just let me give you my present.”

Taking a deep breath, John exhales and sits down on the couch, groaning quietly when he bends his knee, “Fine.”

You clap your hands as you walk over to the tree and find the gift you tucked behind it, then you sit down on the couch next to John and hand him the bag with a huge smile on your face.

“There’s a few things in there.”

John leans over to kiss your cheek as you watch him, then he turns his focus to his gift. He reaches into the bag and pulls out something, pulling back the tissue paper to see it, and you watch the smile spread across his face when he sees a wedding picture of the two of you.

“Oh, wow…” John smiles as he looks at you, and you shrug as you grow nervous.

“Look, I know this isn’t something you’d usually get your husband, but we just bought the record player last month, and I had the idea of doing this for our anniversary, but…” you lean over and pull out the vinyl record, “It’s the song we had our first dance to.”

John wraps his arm around you and smiles, “I love it. I’d say we should put it on and dance, but I think it’s safe to assume we’re both very sore.”

“Yeah,” you nod, then you gesture to the bag so he can look at what else you got him.

No matter what the occasion, you always make sure to put a bag of M&Ms in it for John, and he’s always so excited about it. He reaches in and pulls out a small box, then he opens it to remove a nice new leather wallet.

“I noticed your old one is getting a little worn out.”

John chuckles, “I actually was just thinking about buying a new one -- or hinting at it for Christmas. You know me so well, peach. What else do we got in here?”

You watch John closely as he reaches his hand back into the bag, and you smirk when he pulls out a bottle of massage oil. He looks it over as he reads the box, then he looks up at you, a wide grin spreading across his face.

“Kinda perfect since we’re both so sore,” you say, taking it from John to read the side, “The oil blend promotes deep tissue softness while also providing a natural slip. Creating passionate sex and massage ability.”

John laughs as he looks at you, “Say that one part again, about the slip.”

Leaning closer to John, you brush your lips against his and smirk as you whisper, “A natural…slip.”

The two of you maintain eye contact as you slide your hand up his thigh to the bulge in his pants, and you stand up from the couch, groaning loudly from the pain in your back while John puts his hand on his knee and winces.

“Baby, you know I love you. You know how much I want you…” John says, and you start to nod in agreement before he even says anything. “I want you all the time, every single day, but I don’t think my body is going to allow it tonight.”

“You and me both.” you laugh as you look at John, “Why don’t we just go lay down?”

John winces as he stands up from the couch, then the two of you shuffle off slowly to the stairs, dreading the fact that you’ll have to get up them somehow. You both groan and wince as you get up, and you start to laugh as you reach your room.

“So, this is what it’s going to be like when we’re old, huh?” you slowly make your way over to your side of the bed and start to undress.

“Well, I’m already old, so, yeah…” he jokes, then he furrows his brow when he sees the large bruise on your thigh. He quickly pulls his clothes and gets into bed, grabbing the lotion off your nightstand so he can rub your back. “Lay down.”

You toss your clothes in the hamper near the dresser, then you look down at Bleu as he lays at the foot of the bed, “We’ll have to give him extra t-r-e-a-t-s tomorrow since he didn’t get to go for a w-a-l-k tonight.”

“He’ll be fine. Come here,” John pats the bed and smiles as you lay down on your stomach, and you close your eyes when you feel the cold lotion on your bare back. “Thank you again for today. I love you so much.”

Opening your eyes, you look up at John and smile, then you move closer to lay against his chest, “I wanted to do something nice for you, and I promise next year that we’ll do something on your actual birthday.”

“I’m not worried about it, but I am happy to know I have such a thoughtful wife.” he whispers, moving your hair away from your face. “You looked so cute skating out there. I’m still amazed by the fact that you were so good.”

You jokingly brush your hair off your shoulder, “Well, ya know.”

“You looked sexy.” John laughs, then he leans closer, “I’ll admit it, I’d love to go there again some time. I liked the laser tag.”

“When we have kids, huh?” you say, and John nods. “Sweet little family day there, that’d be fun. Speaking of kids, that’s part of the reason why I wanted to do this now. I’m still on track for my ovulation day, which is only a few days away -- so fucking exciting. But I was thinking, if we waited until spring to go do this, I might be pregnant by then, or who knows, I could be pregnant on your birthday. So, really, this was just me being selfish.”

John chuckles as he leans down to kiss you, “Not at all. I had so much fun with you today, with our family too.”

You bite your cheek as you begin to tear up, “I love when you refer to them as your family. I’m sorry, it’s just so cute. They all love you so much, I hope you know that. As soon as I called Amanda and told her, she was immediately on board, same with Aurelio. They adore you, baby.”

“They love you too.” he says softly, leaning down to kiss you again, “Benji has a huge crush on you, by the way. He told me that he thought you were very pretty.”

Letting out a small laugh, you look up at John, “So sweet.”

“Amanda kept asking if I thought you were pregnant yet -- not that she thought you looked pregnant or anything. She just knows how much we want to be.”

You smile as you reach over for your phone to look at your ovulation app, then you turn it to show John, “Just a few more days, Wick, and you and I could be makin’ a baby.”

“I can’t wait.” John smiles softly, then he presses a kiss to your forehead as you snuggle into his arms, “I can’t wait.”

** i updated my tag list recently, so if i missed you, just let me know! make sure you have tagging turned on!

#john wick x reader #john wick x you #john wick imagine #fic: hold my hand #i want to live inside this chapter #like they're all just having fun and i want that #i can't even explain how excited i am for these next few chapters #anyway i hope u all enjoy!#:))))) love yall

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connordavidscamera · 4 years ago

Text

You Make It Hard to Miss You | Connor Brashier

A/n: here is part 2 of Saying Goodbye, so sorry for the wait. Also, I cried writing this so oops.

Summary: You and Connor are trying to navigate this whole long distance thing, but it’s not seeming much like long distance.

Warnings: angst mostly (I cried while writing it, so like, I lowkey hope you do too or I’m not doing something right)

Word count: 3.2k

***

The first two weeks are the hardest. He’s been so busy with classes, getting accustomed to campus life and everything there that he hasn’t really had time to talk. And while the first week was supposed to be syllabus week, he already had homework. So our texts were minimal, our talks were short, and our FaceTime calls consisted mostly of him trying to do homework while I worked on editing photos with little to no conversation going on until I eventually just fell asleep.

It was… hell, to say the least. And nights were the worst because part of me is still expecting him to show up at my window like he did literally almost every night before. So that’s probably what makes this the hardest. I knew from the beginning that him leaving was going to be hard. I knew it was gonna put a strain on us. We went from seeing each other every day at school, and practically spending every moment of our weekends together, for two years – well, almost. Our two year anniversary is at the end of next month. But that’s not the point. The point is he’s moving on with his life, as he should because he needs to focus on school and working toward his career. And I’m so tremendously proud of what he’s doing and where he’s going. I am.

It just… Well, it still hurts though.

My thumb hovers over the call button. I know I shouldn’t call him. It’s late and he’s probably sleeping, or he’s busy with his work. I shouldn’t do it, but I do. The phone rings twice before he answers.

“Hey, kid!” He sounds chipper, much happier than I’ve heard him in a few weeks. But I guess to be fair I haven’t heard much from him at all the past few weeks either.

I clear my throat, swallowing the lump growing my throat from just hearing him. “H-hey.” I take the bear he gave me before he left and cradle it against my chest. It’s starting to lose a little of its scent. But that’s definitely because I’ve been cuddling and crying into it for the past two weeks.

I pray he doesn’t catch my hesitance, but he’s Connor, of course he notices.

“Hey, what’s wrong, baby? Is everything okay?”

I take in a breath, “No, yeah. Everything’s fine. I just,” I shrug. “I just wanted to check on you. Haven’t heard from you in a couple days, so I was just getting a little worried. But you’re alive,” I force a chuckle. “You sound good. Are you doing good?”

“I’m okay.” He pauses for a while. “I miss you, kid.”

I stutter on a breath, “I miss you, too, Brash.”

If he hears my struggle to breathe, he doesn’t mention it and I’m grateful. “Are you getting ready for bed right now? It’s late, don’t you have the first pep rally tomorrow? You’re charging your camera batteries? You know the ones in the camera closet are never charged.”

I don’t know how he manages to get me to crack a smile, but I do. “Yeah, I’m charging my batteries.”

“Good.” He says, and for the first time, I can hear the rustling on the other side of the phone. He sounds like he’s walking.

“Hey, I didn’t call at a bad time, did I? You sound like you’re outside. Are you with friends right now? I’m sorry. I’ll call you back some other time.”

He just chuckles. “No. Don’t hang up. You’re not interrupting anything. Hey, random question.”

“Okay?” I furrow my brows.

He grunts and the rustling gets louder on his side. “Is your window unlocked?”

I turn my head toward the window and nod before remembering that he can’t see me. “Um, sorry. Yeah, it is. Why?”

“Well because I’m climbing your tree and I wanted to make sure I wasn’t locked out.”

“You’re what? Connor!”

“Give me a minute, kid, it’s hard to talk and climb at the same time. Just open your window for me, okay?”

“Connor-“

“I love you,” he says before hanging up. I rush to my window to open it and then grab one of my extra blankets to push under the door to keep our voices from carrying down the hall. I’m turning around just as he’s climbing in my window. He sits on the window pane while he slips his shoes off, so not to track mud on my floor. Not that I’d even care at this point because he’s here in my room after weeks of not being here. When his shoes are off, he stands and looks up at me with a bright smile on his face. “Hi,” he says softly.

I bite the inside of my cheek before basically tackling him. My arms wrap tightly around his neck as his wrap around my waist, his head burying in my neck. We sway from side to side while I cry silently into his chest. He sighs, kissing my shoulder. “There’s my girl. Missed holding you.”

That only makes me clutch him tighter. “Don’t let go,” I beg.

He chuckles and I feel the vibration from his chest against my cheek. It’s magic and I never want to lose this moment. “Wasn’t planning on it,” he says. “But I wanna lay down with you, so you either have to walk yourself backward with me or wrap your legs around me so I can walk us.”

I smile and start walking back until my legs hit the mattress and we’re falling clumsily onto my bed. I stifle my laughter into his shirt and we shift awkwardly until I’m laying on my back and my legs spread open to accommodate for him. He smiles and looks up at my, moving my hair off my neck.

“Hi,” I say quietly, looking into those beautiful blue-green eyes that I’ve missed so much.

“Hey,” he mumbles back. “You look pretty.”

I blush and move my hand from the back of his neck, where I’ve been playing with his hair to cover his eyes. “Shut up.”

He takes my hand and moves it to his lips where he presses kiss after kiss to my skin. “I’ve missed looking at you.”

“Bub,” I’d pout. “I’ve missed you too.” We don’t speak for a while, he just rests his head on my chest and rubs his thumb over my barely exposed hip, while I continue to play with his hair. “Your hair’s grown a little,” I muse.

“Mhm, haven’t had a chance to get it cut yet.” He mumbles into my shirt.

“I like it.”

“Yeah?”

I nod, “Yeah. More to play with.”

I feel his smirk before I see it as he looks up at me again. “Or to tug on while we make out.”

My cheeks heat at his statement. “Mhm… maybe. Haven’t tested that out yet though.”

He nods. “Maybe we could?” He asks hopefully. And how could I deny him when I haven’t felt his lips on mine in weeks.

“Yeah,” I nod. “I think we should.”

He doesn’t waste a second more before his lips are covering mine in a way that makes me feel so much love. I couldn’t explain it to you, the feeling I get in the pit of my stomach when he kisses me, or touches me, or hell, even just looks at me. There’s something about the way he holds me close to him that makes me feel seen. And even now, after two years together and weeks apart, he’s still making me feel seen.

It’s not butterflies that I feel with him. No, it’s much more than that. So much more. I hum into the kiss and on instinct reach for his hair. He grins when I tug on it a little harder than usual. After minutes of breathless kisses, he pulls back, forehead on mine. “Well I think I’ll let my hair grow out a little more.”

“Yeah,” I breathe, chasing his lips. “Let’s do that.” I swallow more air and then we’re kissing again, harder now, needier. I wrap my leg around his before flipping us over so that I’m on top of him now. His hands are on my ass, kneading and groping like he’s trying to get me closer to him but can’t. But when I get that feeling in my stomach that things are going too far for my comfort, I hum and start to pull away. He knows the sign, so he lets up, chasing my lips for three more kisses before laying back against my pillows.

“You okay?” He asks, rubbing his hand up and down the outside of my thigh in an attempt to calm my racing heart.

“I’m good.” I clear my throat and sit back, still straddling his waist. “I don’t want to ruin the moment,” I say quietly, playing with my fingers. “But can I ask you a question?”

“You can always ask me a question.”

I sigh, “How can you be here right now? Don’t you have class tomorrow morning?”

He shrugs. “it’s just econ. I’ll make it up.”

“Connor.”

“Oh, come on, y/n. I missed you.”

“Well I missed you too, but-“

“I really missed you. And I couldn’t wait any longer to see you.”

“Not even a day? You could have come for the game, stayed the weekend.”

“Well I still can,” he says. “I mean, I ‘ll have to drive back tomorrow to get my laptop and some clothes, but I can do that while you’re at school and be back in time to pick you up. How does that sound?” He grins, taking my hand in his.

“Like a dream.”

“A good one, I hope. We don’t do bad dreams here.”

I can’t fight the smile that lights up my face. “A good one,” I concur. “But bub, that’s a lot of driving. And a lot of money on gas. You need to be there.”

“No,” he shakes his head. “Right now? Right now I need to be cuddling my girlfriend because I miss her and it’s been two weeks since I’ve seen her pretty face and tasted her soft lips and held her in my arms. Right now I need to be with you. It does my heart good being with you.”

I lean forward and kiss his lips once more. “Yeah, mine too.”

---

The coming back and forth persists for three weeks. Except now he’s coming back home three to four times a week, and I don’t mean just like a Monday, Wednesday, Friday thing. I mean he’s coming Monday night, driving back early to make his nine am Tuesday and driving back that night, then driving home even earlier for his eight am on Wednesday. He’s not giving himself breaks and it’s making me worry. About him, about his grades. Because that’s four total hours that he’s driving a day, then he has two or three classes during the day. When is he having time to study and do his work?

Which is what I bring up to him when he steps into my room again. “Are you doing your work?”

“Well hello to you, too, kid,” he chuckles.

“Connor. Are you getting your work done? Because this coming back and forth everyday is not good for you. You’re spending a lot of money on gas, you’re missing out on sleep. I’m worried about you.”

“Hey,” he sits on my bed next to me and takes my hands. “I’m okay. I’m getting my work done. I’m turning it in. And don’t worry about how much I’m spending on gas, I’m not worried about it.”

“And your sleeping? But you’re waking up at five or six in the morning so you can make it to your morning classes and you’re not getting here until ten, eleven o’clock. Sometimes we won’t fall asleep until midnight or one. You’re not getting enough sleep.”

“I’m getting plenty. Stop worrying, baby. I’m okay. I promise. I wouldn’t be doing this if I thought it was messing with my work? Okay?”

I sigh, “Okay. But you’ll tell me if it is, right? Because I promise I’ll be okay if you can’t come over.”

“I won’t.” he says and kisses my knuckles. “But I’ll tell you. Now, since you mentioned your worries of my sleep schedule, you think we can lay down?”

“Yeah,” I’d nod, leaning over to place my book on my nightstand. “We can.”

But for the next few days I can’t shake this feeling that he isn’t doing as good as he’s leading on. He doesn’t think I’ve noticed, but he’s leaving later and later each time, so if he’s going to class, I know he’s got to be getting there late. And I know that he’s at least missed his econ and psych classes three times now.

So that’s why we have to have this discussion tonight. Because I know he’s about ten minutes out and we can’t keep doing this to ourselves. So I wait, cross legged on my bed, with my bear (that he recently sprayed again, leaving me a bottle of his cologne that he knows I love so much) in my lap. I’m playing with the fur on the ears when he slips in my window with a soft thud of his shoes against the floor.

“Why the long face?” he asks, with an amused grin on his face.

“We need to talk, Connor.”

He frowns, “I don’t like the sound of that.”

“Please? Just sit down?”

“Okay?” He moves across the floor and sits in front of me, his body facing the window, but his head turned to look at me. “Is everything okay?”

I sigh because this is harder than I thought it would be. “You have to stop coming over?”

“Wh-what? Why? What did I – what did I do?”

“You’ve missed classes, Connor. And you keep getting here earlier and leaving here later. I just – you can’t keep missing class because you’re driving here and back almost every day. It’s not fair to you.”

“Okay… first of all, I’m gonna need you to stop calling me ‘Connor.’ Hearing my name like that, from you makes me nervous. And second,” he shrugs. “I’ve been looking for a way to tell you I kinda hate econ, anyway.”

I shake my head, and roll my eyes. “This isn’t funny. This is real, okay? You are there, at college, two hours away. That’s where you need to be. Not here. Your life is not here anymore, it’s there. Your future, your career, it all starts there. You can’t come back every other night.”

“My life is here. Sitting right in front of me. My life is telling me to stop coming to see her and I don’t understand why because I’m doing fine with my classes. My grades are fine. I’m keeping up.”

“Connor, you’re making it hard to miss you. You’re making it hard to get used to us being in different zip codes. You’re making it hard for me. Because I was just starting to get used to you being gone and then you showed up and now I’m used to you being here again and it’s not fair because you’re not here. You’re there.”

“Well maybe I don’t want to be,” he argues. “Maybe I want to be here. With you.”

“No,” I shake my head again. “This can’t keep happening. It’s too hard. I love you. I love you more than anything else in this world. You know I do. Which is why I need you to stop showing up three, four times a week.”

“That doesn’t make any sense. You love me. I love you too, and I miss seeing you every day and falling asleep next you. I come back because I need to see you. Because hearing you say you’re okay over the phone isn’t enough for me. I need to see it with my own two eyes. I miss you, kid. I don’t know what else to say.”

I close my eyes and swallow the lump in my throat. “But by showing up like this… you’re making it hard for me to miss you.”

“Why is that a bad thing?”

“Because I’m gonna get used to this again and it’s gonna hurt even more when you really can’t just show up because I didn’t learn how to cope with missing you. I’ve become so dependent on you, Connor, and I told myself I would never do that.”

He nods and looks down at his hands. “So what does this mean then? I just, stop coming to see you all together?”

“Or at least during the week,” I shrug. “I don’t know. I don’t know if this is gonna make this easier or harder. We’ve never had to go through this. We’re learning. I just think that what we’re doing right now is not what’s best for us.”

He sniffles, “Fine.”

“Don’t be mad. Bub, please don’t be mad.”

“I’m not. I’m not mad. I just, wish we weren’t going through this.”

I lean forward and press my forehead against his shoulder. “Me too. I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t. It’s my fault.”

“No, what – it’s not.”

“I was the one that kept putting off the conversation of what we were gonna do when I left. I kept saying we didn’t have to talk about it because nothing was gonna change. I’m still Connor, you’re still y/n. I’m bub, you’re kid. I just,” he sighs. “I wasn’t ready to let go.”

“Let go?” I look up at him. “Are we letting go?” I ask with tears in my eyes. “I don’t want to let go. No, bub. Bo.”

He shakes his head, taking my face in his hands. “Not letting go. Not ever letting you go. I mean letting go of our normal. I didn’t want to entertain the idea of a new normal. But now I know that not talking about it just worsened this, I guess.”

I choke on a sob, “Why does this feel like you’re trying to say goodbye right now?”

“Hey,” he wraps his arms around me and pulls me to his chest. “I’m not saying goodbye. I’m not. You will hear those words come out of my mouth. I refuse. We’ll work on it. You said we’re learning. So we’ll learn and we’ll get better and we’ll be even stronger, okay?”

I nod, sniffling. “You know I’m not pushing you away, right?”

He sighs and kisses my forehead. “I know. I know, kid.” After a few minutes of this, he speaks up again. “Come on. Let’s get some sleep.”

I swallow in more air and agree, “Okay.”

So we lay down, him as the big spoon, and me the little spoon. “I love you,” he whispers into my hair.

My lip trembles and I stutter on my breath. “I love you.”

---

I don’t know what wakes me at five, but I know it’s not Connor like it usually is. I turn to my side, reaching for him on instinct, my eyes still closed. But I come up empty and panic sets in. “Connor,” I say, sitting up, searching my room with sleep filled eyes. But he’s nowhere in sight, his phone isn’t on the nightstand, his shoes aren’t on the floor near the window. He’s not here.

I whimper and lay down, snatching up my bear because it’s the closest thing I have. And I cry silently into his fur because I know Connor said it wasn’t goodbye, but it sure as hell felt like it was.

***

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loudsuitlover · 5 years ago

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Doctor Harry

A/N: I feel like I forgot how to write but I guess the best way to overcome that is trying to write again. I’m still trying to write Lawyer Harry and Ohana but I’m struggling I don’t know why. Also this on first person POV. Thought I’d try something different too. Anyway, sorry for this annoying intro I don’t even know who I’m writing this for haha if after all this ranting you still decided to read, thank you and happy reading! xxx

INDIE’S POV

This skirt fitted me better last spring. I look at my profile on the mirror and focus on my belly and my lips frown at the muffin top I got during the winter. I really need to get back with the abs routine Sergio had made for me. I guess it would help if I didn’t hate abs with a passion. I’d be so fit if I didn’t hate abs and then it would be over for all of them skinny bitches.

“Indie?” Jason barely whispers my name outside the door.

“Coming.”

I open the door fast as soon as I get my white coat on, getting my braid out of it as I walk with Jason towards the doctors’ offices. I have yet to meet my mentor, doctor Hill, since yesterday he didn’t work. That’s something I’ll never understand. If he’s not working then how can he have a medical student assigned for hospital practice? That’s beyond me. Thank God for young doctors who still remember what it was like to be an ignored Med student and help you out and take care of you. God bless them.

“You look cute today.” Jason points out but I know he means it more like a suspicion than a compliment so I just roll my eyes and check I have my notepad on the pocket of my coat. “Hoping to see Mario again, are we?”

I chuckle.

“You know some of us don’t want to jump the bones of every nice guy we meet.” I tease him.

“You’re telling me. You haven’t been with anyone in fourteen months.”

“You’re counting?” I can feel my face contorting in desbelief. “That’s sick.”

“I mean I don’t know if it’s been fourteen or fifteen or what but more than a year.”

I look into his brown eyes and hold his stare for long enough so that he undertands I do not necessarily want to discuss this here and now where any professor could walk past us any minute and he rolls his eyes so I know he’ll drop it.

“Anyway, our paths part here.” He announces right before he knocks on an office’s door and moves his mouth so that it looks like the voice of his mentor is his own.

I chuckle again as I make my way to office 32, where I read doctor Hill should be today in the doctor’s planning. A patient stops me on the way there and asks me where the digestive doctors hall is and I give him the directions with the smile that comes naturally to my face. I’ve been told that a lot, that I’m always smiling, even my grandad used to call me toothy when I was little for how much he would see my teeth when I smiled.

I’ve been studying medicine for four years and I’ve been dressing up as a doctor for hospital practice for two but it’s still exciting when some patient actually mistakes me with a real doctor because well, it’s so clear to me that I’m not, but it’s encouraging to see that people think I could be.

The office door is opened and I hear two male voices casually chatting on the inside. I don’t want to eavesdrop, especially because the probability of getting caught is rather high so I knock on the opened door and wait for them to give me permission to enter. They just stop talking so I take another step and stand on their sight. Mario, the nice young doctor that helped me yesterday, is looking at me with raised eyebrows. It’s almost hard to recognize him without the surgery gown so I reckon it might be the same for him but then he smiles and I give him a smile back.

“Hi, Mario.”

“Hi. Looking for doctor Hill?”

I nod at his question and he nods back as if telling me I’m on the right place but before he can speak the other doctor interrupts him.

“Here it is, Mario. D’you want me to print it fo you?”

Mario moves to the side so I can see the man who owns that voice and I know I must look stunned because I am. Doctors don’t usually look like that and I have never been this lucky. Usually our mentors are doctors over 50 and when they’re male they’re usually fat or bald, sometimes both, but he looks like a movie star or like a singer or someone from Olympus and I try to save the way he looks on my mind as if I already know no one is ever going to look like him ever.

I don’t know how long I’ve been standing here for or if any of them has said anything to me but by the way his green eyes stare into mine, amused, I feel like it’s been too long. How did he even manage to be a mentor? I don’t think he’s even a full doctor yet, he looks to young for that.

“You’re so unlucky, Harry. You got the most annoying student, always asking questions...” Mario jokes.

I chuckle, finding it funny that he would remember how I apologized the day before for making so many questions. He was really nice yesterday and he’s being very nice now saving me from my embarrassingly staring at Harry. He then stands up from his chair on the other side of the desk.

“Hi, I’m Harry. Nice to meet you.”

And much to my surprise, not that I’m complaining though, he approaches me and places one hand on my elbow, leaning in and pressing his cheek against mine in the way I would greet a friend. But he’s not a friend. No doctor has ever greeted me like that. And he just introduced himself as Harry, didn’t he? Does that mean he wants me to call him Harry? No doctor Hill anymore?

“I’m Indigo.” I tell him.

“Indigo.” He smiles and I think I’ve forgotten how to speak. “That’s such a beautiful name.”

“Thank you.” I look at my feet because I’m gonna fangirl if he keeps smiling at me. “My mum’s a painter and a hippy.”

He laughs and I feel my breath getting caught on my throat. I think I’m having a tachicardia. I feel stupid. It’s not like I’ve never seen a handsome man before. But I’ve certainly never been this close to one and I’ve never had his attention.

“Well, I’m on my way to the operating room.” Mario announces. “See you, mate.”

He gives Harry a warning look before he goes but Harry chuckles and shakes his head, dismissing his friend’s look and my nerves only grow stronger on my belly.

“Well, Indigo, sit here next to me.” He grabs the chair next to his and brings it closer to his until they’re touching and then he looks at me so I take a seat. “We usually check the list of the patients who are coming and read their clinical record before the visits begin, to be a little ahead, you know.” He smiles again.

If he keeps smiling at me like that I might faint at some point today. He then turns towards the laptop and starts telling me about the patients, even though sometimes it feels like he’s more thinking out loud than talking to me. I should really listen, especially in case he feels like asking me questions during the day because I really do not want to look like an idiot but I could stare at him all I want now and he wouldn’t notice and I can’t let this chance go so if I have to look like an idiot I will.

I let my eyes travel freely across his features. His hair is brown and is a little too long for a male who normally works on a surgery room. It’s not like it’s inappropriate or anything and it looks incredible on him and something tells me he knows that but it’s not usual that someone from his status wears their hair that long and that tousled. He asks something out loud but I know he’s not waiting for an answer because as soon as he asks it he searchs on the browser- and it’s not like I could have answered anyway. My mind is busy and the moment my eyes drop to his arm, flexed, elbow resting on the table, I could gulp just imagining those arms holding me against this very same desk and- what the fuck am I doing?

I know he can’t hear what I think but I still have to remind myself that and I pray to God he does not turn around because I’m pretty sure I’m blushing. He’s wearing the hospital uniform, with the baby blue button up and the baby blue pants, but I entertain my mind trying to picture his naked torso. This is so wrong for the love of God, he’s my professor. I really need to chill. I feel like a dog in season. But this is just extraordinary, I am not usually around men this hot, and what’s the harm in daydreaming anyway?

The moment my eyes move back up they stare into his amused ones and I feel my cheeks heating up so I get afraid I’m blushing.

“You were awfully quiet.” He states, a somewhat smug grin on his face but I am not judging, I made it pretty easy for him to make fun of me. “Did you understand?”

“Mostly.”

“Mostly, huh?” He smirks. “If there’s something I say that you don’t understand you just stop me, alright? Now, can you read an electrocardiogram?”

“I should be able to.”

He chuckles and places it one in front of me. I am getting embarrassingly exciting that he finds me funny but I have to bite back a smile of my own at his friendly attitude.

“Go on then.”

“Okay, first thing we need to look for P on II and V1.” I speak very slow so that I have time to think while I do so and judging by the way he’s smirking, he’s noticing. “And we see that we have indeed P waves, which is good, no auricular fibrilation then. And then we look for QRS and we check the frequency by counting and multiplying” I do the calculations on my mind “and it’s 75 hearbeats per minute, a little high but nothing to worry about, people tend to get nervous when we do electrocardiograms on them. And we check the dimensions of the waves, the height, the width... And I don’t know this looks pretty normal to me.”

I dare to look at him and he’s smirking but it doesn’t look cocky to me, it’s more like a proud smile so I smile back, happy with myself.

“Very good.” He smiles. “Just a little, tiny detail but you obviously don’t need to know that so don’t worry.” He stands up from his chair and stands right behind me and places his left hand on the desk in front of me so I can his chest hovering over me. His finger points a random P wave. “If you look closely at the P wave, does it look normal to you?”

I swallow, quite frankly I don’t know if the P wave looks normal or not. I guess it doesn’t because otherwise he wouldn’t be asking that but why does he smell so good? And why is his arm hovering over my chest? This could be the moment I faint.

“I know it’s not because that’s why you’re asking but I don’t see it.”

He laughs again and even though it’s silly, I can’t help but wonder if he laughs this much with everyone.

“It’s a little higher than normal, but it’s very subtle, it’s okay if you don’t see it yet and anyway it’s not that important.” He laughs again. “But it might indicate a right atrium hypertrophy. That’s for an A+ in cardiology.” He smiles before taking his seat back and opening a new record.

“What year are you in?” He’s not looking at me while he asks that.

“Fourth.”

He nods his head but keeps quiet after that and I’m not sure why he even asked that but for some reason- it might be because his scent still lingers on my nostrils or because he just hovered over me or because he indirectly asked my age- I feel a strange tension over my shoulders so I ask him something I genuinely don’t know anyway about the patient’s record and he even grabs a paper to draw some shit and for some reason that’s turning me on. The way he speaks, so slow but without hesitation, he’s got a very calming voice, and how many things he knows and how smart he seems to be... I’ve always had a thing for intelligent guys and the fact that he’s also so close and smells so good is only adding to that.

“Hi there.”

A very tall man with a white hospital uniform walks in and gives us both a look before he takes a seat on the counter next to the stretcher. He must be the nurse.

“So” He says, giving us his back as he types something on his laptop “who are you?” He turns to look at me.

I find it a little rude, but I don’t know this man at all. He might just be one of those people who come out strong so I give him a smile.

“I’m a fourth year med student. I have practice here today.” I explain.

“I know that, I’m your mentor, doctor Hill, but what’s your name?”

“Oh, sorry.” My tongue melts. “I mean Indigo, not sorry. My name’s not sorry.”

I hear Harry laughing out loud behind me and doctor Hill smiles as well. I totally looked like an idiot but at least they seemed to have found it endearing.

“Well, my name’s not sorry either.” Doctor Hill said. “You can call me Peter, Indigo.”

“Okay, Peter.”

“I see you’ve already met my resident doctor, doctor Styles.”

I nod my head.

“Cool, so now that we all know each other... Harry, who’s the first one?”

Like that we start visiting the patients and for the first time since I started my hospital practice, I actually have fun during one of them. Both Peter and Harry are quite funny, even though they do tease me a lot, but they also allow me to do a lot of things like weighting the patients, checking their blood pleasures and Harry even lets me do a clinical interview, under his watch obviously, but it was still exciting. The lady I did the interview to was so nice and I could feel Harry’s attentive stare with a proud, amused smile the entire time, even the lady smiled every time she looked at him.

After about three hours of visits, Peter stands up from his chair next to mine and stretches his back.

“So Harry, I think I’m gonna go to the surgery rooms to give a hand.” He states and my heart drops to my belly at the anticipation that he’s gonna make me go with him and my day with Harry is over. “What do you want to do, Indigo?” I hold my breath at the surprise. “Do you wanna come with me or stay here with Harry? Well, that’s if Harry doesn’t mind but I think he doesn’t.” He smirks.

“No, of course not. It’s actually nice to have a nurse around.” He smiles.

“I think I’m gonna stay then if that’s okay.”

Peter nods and smiles.

“Do you prefer visits over surgery room or you just prefer doctor Styles over me?”

I see Harry shaking his head from the corner of my eye and look down at my hands.

HARRY’S POV

“Sorry” I call Indigo with the nickname she gave herself and she raises her eyebrows “would you please call the next patient? Mrs Hope.”

“Good name.”

I cannot not smile. She stands up from her chair and I entertain my eyes with the laptop screen just to pretend I’m not watching her all the time. I think I’ve managed to rebuild my reputation from how much of a fool of myself I made when I introduced myself to her but it just took me off guard. I wasn’t expecing to have a student around at all, much less that the student was going to look like her.

I’m also done with feeling guilty for thinking about her that way, even though now I’m starting to feel guilty for not feeling guilty, but I can’t control my mind and I don’t think anyone who’s seen her could judge me. Plus, she can’t know what I’m thinking. Even Mario flirted with her this morning...

But no, I don’t want to make her feel uncomfortable or to take advantage of my position at all. She came here to learn and I really need to stop looking at her thighs. She closes the door after Mr Copper and I feel the hair at the back of my neck bristle when I see the way he looks at her.

“Good morning, doctor.” He greets me. “You’re very lucky you have such a beautiful assistant.”

Sorry smiles but her shoulders have tensed and even though I’ve only known her for a few hours, I can tell when someone’s uncomfortable and I know she is. I don’t blame her either. I reckon I’d be uncomfortable too.

“She’s also very smart too. That’s why she’s here actually.”

I don’t want to be rude with my patient but for some reason I felt like I had to protect her. I catch her trying not to smile looking at her thighs and I try not to smile too. We do Mr Copper’s visit and she starts scribbling on her notepad and I have to help myself from peeking at the questions she’s going to make. I wonder if what she’s written down if that she has noticed Mr Copper jugular.

When Mr Copper walks out, I turn to look at her and smile. Again.

“Thank you.” She says.

“What for?” I frown.

“You know, for what you said.” Her eyes stare into mine and I try to figure out what is it about this girl that’s making me nervous. “Most guys don’t even understand why some compliments make us feel uncomfortable.”

I smile at her. I hope she knows she really is beautiful and I mean I can understand Mr Copper and had he said that any other way or had he not looked at her like he did right before, I wouldn’t have said anything and I’m sure she wouldn’t have felt uncomfortable but it was just inappropriate.

“It’s true though.”

I’m already a sucker for her smile. Thank God I am not going to see her again.

“Do you have any questions for me?”

“Mmm...” She bites her bottom lip.

I’ve noticed she does that when she’s not sure of something. I like it. She has very beautiful lips too, so full and pink and moisturized. Look back into her eyes, Harry.

“I’ve seen you scribbling like crazy.” I encourage her.

I want her to ask me whatever it is that’s going through her mind.

“No, well, I was describing his jugular.”

I feel my dick as soon as she said that. So she noticed. She’s fucking smart and that’s a turn on.

“So that I would remember what I saw, you know?”

I nod.

“Do I have to give you a mark or just sign your assistance?”

“Just sign.” She shakes her head.

“Shit. Well, you got an A anyway.”

She grins excitedly and I want to ask her how old she is again but I turn around and open the next record. This is the last one left and it’s the first time since I started working I don’t want to finish visiting, but when we are done she’ll go and I’ll never see her again.

I swear I’m trying not to feel attracted to her. I know it’s wrong but if I’m not going to see her again, I mean if she’s just going to leave now and I’ll never have to supervise her practice again, I could ask for her phone number, right? I mean I’m not a professor like Danny. It’s not technically prohibited. But she would feel pressured. I can’t do that.

“Actually, Harry” her voice cracks a little and I want to look at her but I know she’s nervous so I don’t “I do have a question. Can I ask you something?”

“Anything, Sorry.”

“It... It has nothing to do with the practice, though.”

“It doesn’t?” Now this is interesting.

I finally turn my body towards her so that I’m facing her and encourage her to ask me. If she asks for my number I’ll give it to her, but I don’t think she will.

“Mmm... Can I ask how old are you?”

I don’t want to tell her and that’s when I notice all my attempts at trying not to be attracted to her have failed. Her skin is so soft and she smells so good, like sweet vanilla, I bet she tastes sweet too. Fuck, I’m doing it again and I’m looking at her breasts. Fuck me.

“I’m 27.”

She smiles and I don’t know what that means. I want to ask her but we need to call the last patient.

“Miss Asvenson.” I smile.

She nods and stands up from her chair but before she opens the door I ask her.

“And you?”

We look into each other’s eyes and I think we both know why we’re asking. She smiles.

“21.”

I nod. She’s legal everywhere in the world.

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waywardbeanie · 4 years ago

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A Man of Letters - Chapter Three

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female Reader Summary: It started as a simple hunt for Sam and Dean Winchester. Dean didn’t realize that this single case would change his life forever. Now they are on the biggest mission of their lives, and without the use of cellphones, the only way he can communicate with the love of his life is through old fashioned letter writing. He has done everything in his power to keep her safe, but will it be enough? Word Count: 3538

Series Warnings: Language, slow burn, angst, smut, alcohol consumption, fluff, SPN typical violence (individual chapters will contain relevant warnings) a little meta Chapter Warning: Violence, assault, humor (Is that really a warning?) and a little bit of sweet.

A/N: This series has been rattling around in my head for a while. It would never have made it to the light of day if it was not for my beautiful group of friends with whom none of this would be possible! You know who you are and I love you all!

Thank you to my beta @winchest09 without her none of this would be possible. If you’d like to be tagged, my list is open. Just send me an ask HERE: **Make sure you check out the playlist, it is updated every chapter and an essential part of the story**

Spotify Playlist : A Man of Letters

This series is ongoing!

No Gif’s are mine

“Weird,” Y/N huffed looking out the front window of her Main Street photography studio, “Photos That Rock”. That same black muscle car has passed by her shop window at least five times today. She feels like she should recognize it, but it is just out of reach. Pulling her hair back into a ponytail she began to straighten up around the studio. Last night was a late night, then tossing and turning all night thinking about Mr. Tall, Dark and Plaid. It was an early morning today with a full schedule of studio time and then she was set to go back to The Zoo for Blues night. “Thank God it’s Friday!” she thought.

Tomorrow she opens at 11:00 and only for a few hours. During the summer, the hours are reduced with people being on vacation or just busy. The last thing they want to do on a Saturday is to come in and have their picture taken. She had editing to do, but she could do that on her laptop at home barefooted, wearing shorts and a T shirt.

Y/N locked the door as she flipped the closed sign around. Walking to the back of the studio she grabbed her garment bag off the hook and proceeded to change clothes. She didn’t have time to go back to her house. Besides, once she went home, she wasn’t leaving. Finding that charming little 2-bedroom bungalow was a blessing.

Thinking back, she remembered driving around quaint little neighborhoods when Y/N saw the “For Sale” sign being put out. She pulled her black Jeep over to the side of the road and jumped out, clad in jean capris, her favorite white sneakers with a black ZZ Top “Tres Hombres” mugshot picture on the front, hair in a ponytail and large sunglasses adorning her face.

“Excuse me,” she said politely, as she approached the elderly woman trying to pound a sign into the hard dirt of the front yard. “May I ask you about the house?”

The old woman peered at her over her glasses. “Ya by yourself?” she almost shouted.

“Yes ma’am.” Y/N smiled.

“Ya like strong coffee?” she questioned again, “it’s the only kind of coffee I make,” she mumbled. Y/N nodded her head agreeably.

“Well, come on then, come in and look at the house. You can have a cup of coffee with me and I’ll tell ya about it.” Y/N followed behind the slowly shuffling woman with slide slippers and a faded blue house dress.

Within 2 hours, Y/N learned that Hazel had lived in this house her entire married life. Her husband Everett built it when he returned from the Pacific after WWII. The house was a little run down she explained because she had a hard time taking care of things after Everett died 18 months ago. Hazel was ready to move into the senior apartments where all her “widow friends” live. By Y/N's second cup of coffee, she and Hazel agreed on a price and that Y/N could have the house in a month. They agreed to meet at the lawyers in town the following Monday. She had a bounce in her step as she returned to her Jeep after hugging Hazel goodbye. Her step stuttered as a somber smile pulled at her mouth. “This was the first good thing she could use her parent’s life insurance for.”

Y/N shook her head to clear her mind of the past. Glancing at the clock she noticed that she needed to be at the bar in 30 minutes and it was 15 minutes away. She quickly stripped off her T-shirt and jeans and shimmied into her black leggings and pulled on her knee high, 5-inch heeled boots. Pulling her grey sleeveless flowing top over her head, tugging it down, it skimmed right at her mid-thigh. Focusing on her reflection, she quickly touched up her makeup and added lipstick. Yanking out the hairband, she returned it to her wrist, finger combing her hair.

“Well, that’s as good as it’s going to get today,” she said to herself. Turning around, she grabbed her backpack and keys and ran out the back door to her Jeep, praying she didn’t hit traffic.

The Jeep careened into the parking lot of The Zoo, throwing gravel as “My Kinda Party” by Jason Aldean blaring from the speakers. She made it with 5 minutes to spare. The bar was busy already, so she had to park on the far end of the lot. She grabbed her backpack off the seat and sprinted to the front door just as it swung open.

Stepping inside it was apparent it was going to be a different kind of night. The place was packed just about shoulder to shoulder. People weren’t here to dance, they were here to have a few beers and listen to great Blues music. Y/N snaked along the edge of the crowd to the bar, carefully removed her camera from the bag and handed the backpack to Travis. Surveying the crowd she knew she would get the best pictures by positioning herself on the edge of the stage.

Painstakingly she made her way to the front as the band rambled out. . She motioned to one of the members to confirm she would not be a distraction and he gestured for her to join them while grinning at her. “Make sure you get my good side.”

As they began to jam, the crowd surged forward and Y/N was glad she wasn’t on the floor tonight. She focused on the band and the front of the crowd for their first set, capturing ecstatic faces as the music rose and fell. After a hasty break the band began their second set with “Got My Mojo Working” by Muddy Waters. Y/N steadied herself on the side of the stage and began to scan the bar through her lens, capturing bits and pieces of the enthusiastic and eclectic crowd. The camera halted at 2 men that didn’t belong. They were leaning against the back wall with their arms crossed in front of their chest. They were tall and seem to tower above the crowd. Even this far away they seem pasty and unkempt. Y/N chucked to herself because one has a John Deere hat on and the other a Caterpillar hat, direct competitors. As she studied them, both snapped their heads up simultaneously. The look on their faces was so murderous that her stomach tightened, and she began to quake. Trying to settle herself her camera moved on instantly. As she wrapped up her shoot at the end of the night, she could still not shake the pit in her stomach.

She talked to the band for a few minutes as they were packing up their instruments and the crowd began to clear out. Jumping down off the stage, she went to the bar to gather her things.

“Thanks so much for tonight Y/N,” Travis pronounced handing her the backpack. “Do you need me to walk you out?”

“No, I’m good.” Y/N shook her head. “I’ll see you tomorrow night for the second blues show.”

Smiling, Travis toasted her with the glass he was polishing.

She hefted her backpack over her shoulder and with her head down, she headed outside. En route to her parking spot, she observed a group of men congregating close to her Jeep. Slowing her pace she began eyeing them closely, spotting immediately the 2 men in ball caps that creeped her out earlier. Giving them a wide berth she dug her keys out of her bag, kicking herself the whole time that she didn’t already have them in hand.

As she drew closer, the group began to watch her, making lewd remarks and vulgar gestures. She ran the rest of the way to her Jeep, jumped in, cranking the engine almost simultaneously. Y/N jammed it into reverse, throwing gravel, then ramming it into drive in one fluid motion, putting as much space between her and the group as possible. Her heart was thundering in her chest while her entire body began to quake. Her breaths came in short bursts as she propelled down the road, putting a few miles between her and the bar. Y/N began to talk herself down, trying to remember her yoga breathing as she berated herself for thinking of yoga at a time like this.

Steering closer to her house she began to compose herself. As she pulled into her driveway, she put her Jeep in park resting her head on the steering wheel, breathing slowly, in and out. Yanking her keys out the ignition she threw them into her bag. Taking one last calming breath she hoisted her bag on her shoulder and got out, slamming the door behind her.

She had taken three steps when a vice like grip wrapped around her bicep swinging her around and slamming her against the side of the Jeep, hurling the bag out of her reach and knocking the wind out of her. Y/N was momentarily paralyzed, the disbelief so profound. A large hand gripped the back of her neck, pulled her away from the Jeep and crushed the side of her face into the driver’s side window. He clenched her neck tighter as he pushed her face into the window. Tears are running down her face and she strains to hold in cries of pain and fear. She feels the weight of his chest press into her back, feeling his sticky hot breath on the side of her face.

“Did you think you could run?” he seethed. “Did you think we would not fucking find you?”

“W-W-What are you talking about?” Y/N choked out.

Spinning her around by her arm and tossing her back against the door, Y/N hit it like a ragdoll, sliding down the side of the vehicle as her fear incapacitated her mind and body. Looking up, she recognized her assailant from the bar with the John Deere hat. He gripped her by the throat, dragging her back up the Jeep. Y/N feet dangled off the ground, her right eye already swollen shut blood dripping from the side of her head and lip.

“Bitch, we’ve been looking for you for a long time,” he sneered. Y/N tried to shake her head back and forth.

“NO!” she struggled, “I don’t know you!”

He laughed as she tried to focus her one good eye. An index of faces flipping through her mind like a rolodex. He bent down, his fingers digging into her throat, leveling eye to eye with her.

“Oh, but we know you. You were supposed to be in the cabin with James and Diane. We should have been able to take care of all of you at once.” His mouth twisted, “Instead, we had to chase you ass across half the damn country.”

Uncontrollable tears were rolling down her face, blood pounding in her ears. The stranger straightened, his hand slightly loosening around her neck, feet still inches off the ground. “We usually like to play with our food, but those fuckin’ Winchesters are in town. I’ve messed around enough.”

Y/N could not make sense of anything this lunatic was saying. He knew about her parents’ cabin? He knew she was supposed to be there? Play with their food? Maybe she was blacking out from lack of oxygen. Winchesters?

She could feel herself weakening. She could hear screeching tires and yelling but it was so far away. She was opening her mouth to scream but only a raspy moan escaped. A look of panic crossed the strangers face. He looked at her, his features began to change. Sharp pointed teeth emerging from his gums. Y/N began to blink rapidly, attempting to process what she was seeing. She began to kick her legs in terror. Her brain was telling her what she was seeing was a hallucination, but her body was peaking at the fight or flight mode. The stranger's mouth was agape as a hiss left his throat. She stared at his mouth with what looked like hundreds of teeth made of needles

She opened her bloody lips to attempt to scream for the last time while looking into his eyes. His head completely disappeared, releasing his hold on her neck in which she crumpled into a heap on her driveway, gulping for air. She heard metal clattering on the cement and from her one working eye, saw a large hand grab the stranger’s body and toss it into the grass. In a flash, two strong hands grasped her shoulders and her flight kicked in. Thrashing around and trying to get away but he was holding on tight saying her name over and over, attempting to get through to her oxygen deprived brain. Shaking her shoulders as gently as he could, drawing his face closer to hers

“Y/N, Y/N look at me, just listen to my voice and look at me, look at my face.”

She peered up at him, the adrenalin beginning to dissipate as the tremors convulsed her body . She was trying to focus on what she saw but it was irrational. She felt like she was trying to put a puzzle together but none of the pieces fit. She squinted at his face and moved her lips to speak but nothing came out. She stuck her tongue out trying to moisten her lips wincing as she swallowed. Trying again she croaked, “Hot Flannel Guy?”

Chuckling Dean gathered her to his chest, “That’s right, sweetheart, it’s me, Hot Flannel Guy.” He picked her up, as if she weighed nothing the uninjured side of her face rested against his chest and she could feel the rumble of laughter against her cheek. She closed her uninjured eye and tried to breathe deep. He smelled clean and woodsy with a hint of sweat. “A sexy smell for a hot man,” she thought. She remembered she had caught a hint of that same smell yesterday when they danced.

“Where are we going?” she whispered her head foggy, feeling so tired. Dean started for her front door, Sammy not far behind. “We just need to get you in the house sweetheart”

“We only got three of them, the other two made it to the pickup and took off,” Sammy informed his brother, looking over his shoulder.

“Damn it!” snapped Dean “We can’t fucking leave her here now.”

Sam was juggling the machete, a bag and a first aid kit. “Let’s just get her in the house and then we can make a plan. It’s not like they are coming back tonight.”

Dean looked at Sam then at the front door. “Not to be a dick Sammy, but that door isn’t going to open itself.”

Sam rolled his eyes. He looked at Y/N in Dean’s arms and immediately felt bad. “Right.” He dropped the armload of stuff behind him on the large front porch and opened the screen door. There was a keypad and a doorknob and sighed. “What’s the code?”

Dean carefully jostled Y/N in his arms. “Hey, Y/N?” he asked her softly, “we need to get in the house, what’s the code?”

She had almost forgotten where she was, she hurt all over and could not stop trembling, but she was taking a small comfort in the feel of Dean’s arms around her.

“Let me down,” she croaked, starting to struggle, “I’m fine, I’m fine. Just let me down.”

Dean’s arms tightened around her. “Sweetheart, just tell Sam the code, we’ll get you in the house, THEN, I‘ll put you down.” She slumped back against him huffing

“8675309,” she rasped in the best sing song voice she could. Dean threw his head back and laughed as Sam smirked. “Jenny’s number? Your code is Jenny’s number?”

“I couldn’t help it, it’s the only number I could always remember.”

Still chuckling Dean leaned against the house as Sam entered the code. He pushed off, his elbow hitting the doorbell just as the door swung open. Robert Plant’s voice wailed from inside the house.

“Hey, Hey Mama said the way you move, gonna make you sweat, gonna make you groove”

Dean’s eyes snapped to Y/N’s face. “Woah, Zeppelin? Seriously?”

One side of her mouth tilted up. “Nobody wants a boring doorbell.”

Sam shook his head as he gathered the things off the porch, holding the screen door with his foot so Dean could carry Y/N in the house. He was beginning to feel like he was stuck in some kind of kismet thing between those two.

As Dean entered her home, he looked around trying to figure out where to lay Y/N down.

“No way does a Dude live here.”

All the walls were white with dark grey trim. The furniture was white in the living room with grey throw pillows and a turquoise throw on the side of the couch. The floors looked like they were finished in a weathered grey tone and it opened up into the airy white and grey kitchen. Different sized vases filled with fresh daisies and framed black and white photographs were placed throughout the area. With all the white, one would think that it would feel sterile but something about it gave off a cozy, comfortable feeling, like a breath of fresh air.

Sam strode into the kitchen and placed his armful of gear on the kitchen Island. He turned to Dean pointing to the couch.

“Nope.” Dean shook his head and looked at Y/N, “no way Sammy, it’s too clean in here.”

Y/N began to wriggle in his arms. “Lemme down,” she whispered. He had held her in his arms for so long she began to feel embarrassed but Dean tightened his hold around her. “Shhhh,” he said looking around again.

“Dude!” she yelled, shocking all three of them. “PUT. ME. DOWN.” Dean set her on her feet and her legs started to crumple from underneath her. He caught her again and hoisted her back up in his arms.

“Now what?” he ground out.

Sam pulled out one of the grey upholstered bar chairs from the kitchen island, “Put her here.”

He opened the freezer and grabbed a bag of peas and pulled a bottle of water from the refrigerator. Setting them on the island he walked over to the sink, tore some paper towels from the roll and saturated them with water.

Dean deposited her, none too delicately in the chair. Sam made his way back to her, walking around the island to stand next to Dean to face her. Her right eye was swollen shut and the right side of her top and bottom lip were busted covered in drying blood. As she looked up at her savior, they could see the purple handprint developing around her neck. Looking directly into Dean’s steely green eyes, she visibly flinched at the barely contained anger. Inhaling a shuddering breath, she spoke quietly.

“Who are you?”

“Oh yeah, that,” Dean smiled. “I’m Dean and this,” he motioned towards the other man, “is my brother Sam.”

He raised his hand, “Hi.”

Y/N studied both of them. Her good eye ping ponging between them until she finally landed back on Dean expectantly raising her eyebrow with a grimace of pain.

“Winchester.” Both spoke at the same time.

She huffed out a breath. “Of course it is, that creepy dude said he couldn’t play with his food because of the fuckin’ Winchesters. But I think I must have imagined stuff from lack of oxygen or something because after that, it’s all a blur and isn’t rational.”

“Well,” Sam hedged, reaching for the wet paper towels, “why don’t we try to get your face cleaned up and you can maybe take a shower. After that we can explain it all to you.” He reached up to start to blot her battered face.

“Dude, I got this!” Dean hip checked him, knocking him off balance. Sam scowled at him. “Sammy, why don’t...you know…” he motioned with his head toward the front of the house, “handle that other thing we need to do.” Sam looked at him incredulously, sarcasm flowing. “Great, yeah I’ll take care of that right now.” Spinning around he headed out the door. Dean knew he was going to hear about that later but he really didn’t give a damn.

Turning his attention back to Y/N he grabbed the damp paper towels off the island counter and started to dab her face. Wincing she pulled back. “Dean,” she murmured

“Yeah, sweetheart?” he began reaching around lightly, holding the back of her head so she would stop drawing back. “I need you to hold still for me for just a few minutes so I can get you cleaned up.”

She reached up, grasping his hand, meeting his eyes. Her bottom lip began to tremble, tears shimmering. “Thank you,” she breathed, “thank you for saving my life.”

He tenderly touched his forehead to hers. “I’m just glad we made it here on time.”

“Me too,” she choked out.

Chapter 4

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