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kpopfanfictrash · 4 years ago

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Raise the Barre (Ch. 3)

Author: kpopfanfictrash

Pairing: Jimin / Reader

Rating: 18+ (Eventual Smut)

Genre: Enemies to Lovers / Dance Academy!AU

Warnings: descriptions of past bullying

Word Count: 6,816

Summary: You and Park Jimin have been rivals for as long as you’ve known one another; ever since he tripped you in the front row of your first dance convention. When you graduate from high school and enter Russet Ballet Academy, you tell yourself you’re leaving all past quarrels behind. The main problem with this though, is that your past seems determined not to leave you alone.

Worse still, the obstacles you face while out in the real world might prove more challenging than anything your enemy has to offer.

It was nearly eleven when you returned to your room later that night, collapsing on your bed in a disgruntled heap. You barely had enough energy to change out of your clothes and shower, though you forced yourself to do so, if only for the sake of appearances.

Noelle was already asleep, so she didn’t have the presence of mind to grill you, but her questions came as soon as you woke up the next morning. Seated at a table in the coffee shop on the corner, you opened your yogurt and spilled your frustrations.

“So, that’s where I am,” you said, shaking your head when you reached the end of the story. “Miss Britt pulled me aside and I need to find someone to tutor me, fast. Fun times.”

“That’s bullshit.” Noelle looked outraged. “You’re clearly one of the best dancers at Russet! It’s why Sabrina has such a problem with you. She knows you’re competition.”

“Thanks,” you said, a bit glum. “But Miss Britt is right – I’m no ballerina. I need more practice if I want to catch up to the rest of class.”

“But you don’t even want to be in Russet’s ballet company! You’re a talented dancer outside of that specific genre.”

“True. But if I can’t make it through freshman year, that doesn’t really matter – does it?”

Noelle fell silent for a moment, not having a response as you sighed.

“It’s not like I expect you to have a solution,” you admitted. Scooping another bite of yogurt from your parfait, you shoved this in your mouth. “It’s my problem to figure out.”

Noelle leaned back. “Maybe you should take Miss Britt’s suggestion,” she said.

You gave Noelle a look of such open disgust, she had to laugh.

“I’m serious!” She grinned, taking a sip of her coffee. “Obviously, Sabrina’s the worst, but you could ask Jimin. Is he really as bad as you say?”

“That all depends,” you mused. “Is Satan as bad as they say?”

“Never met him, so I can’t be sure.”

“Well, I have met Jimin and can definitively say he’s the worst. If I went to him for help, I’d never hear the end of it.”

“Hm.” Noelle sounded skeptical to you; she clearly thought you were exaggerating, but this was one subject on which you were unwilling to budge. “Maybe you can ask someone else, then. An older student? Oo – you could ask Seokjin! He’s so hot.”

Perked up by this idea, you casually stirred your coffee. “You know what, that’s not a bad idea. He’s super talented and clearly knows what the teachers are looking for.”

“See!” Noelle set down her fork. “You have plenty of options.”

“You might be right,” you said with a smile.

Feeling marginally better about the whole situation, you pulled out your phone to search Russet’s website for Seokjin. All the teacher’s assistants had a web page where they offered private lessons, much like Miss Britt and other teachers. Unfortunately for you though, all of Seokjin’s slots were full.

This seemed to be the case with most upperclassmen and you sighed, standing from the table to clear your place. Discouraged by this, you threw your phone in your bag while you left the shop. Noelle began suggesting other students she knew while you walked to class, but you had already begun to fixate on what was probably a terrible idea.

The more you thought about it, the more you realized Miss Britt’s initial suggestion made sense. Sabrina was frustrating, but she knew all the teachers and had the most training of your class in classical ballet. True, you hadn’t gotten off to the best start, but you’d played a part in that, too. The first night you met, you didn’t have to be a dick to her.

Most importantly, you didn’t have the same history with Sabrina that you did with Jimin. Jimin had been your rival since day one – it’d take more than some halfhearted peace offering to make him forget that. Your relationship with Sabrina was new enough you still had hope it could change.

Besides, you already knew she did morning barre on days off from class. Surely, she wouldn’t say no if you asked to tag along. Cheered by this thought – you were the type of person who enjoyed having a plan – you perked up, chatting eagerly with Noelle as you walked to class.

Wednesday ballet was held by Mr. Jordan, the only teacher at Russet who was routinely late to class. Only by five minutes, but you found it remarkable how consistently he hit this deadline. The rest of the class arrived fifteen minutes early regardless – better to be consistently early than to be late the one week Mr. Jordan wasn’t, and be banished to the hall.

You and Noelle entered at 8:50 AM, setting your bags on the ground to stake out your place at the barre. You were midway across the room when you saw Sabrina and paused.

Her pointe shoes were already on, doing slow relevés at the barre in the center. You hesitated only a moment before turning to Noelle.

“I’m going to do barre over there today,” you said, nodding in Sabrina’s direction. “See you after, okay?”

Noelle looked up in alarm, but you had already turned, halfway across the floor. When you reached Sabrina, you set your bag down and took a long sip of water.

Sabrina ignored you, placing one leg on the barre to bend at the waist. You waited a moment for her to rise and when she did not, set your hand on the barre.

“Hey,” you said, waiting for a response.

Sabrina didn’t react.

Moving to stand opposite, you lifted your leg to place beside her own. Stretching an arm overhead, you leaned forward until your face was mere inches away.

“How’s your morning?” you said, trying your best to be pleasant.

Sabrina released a long, slow sigh.

“Good.”

You waited, but she said nothing more and, feeling kind of stupid, you glanced over your shoulder. Noelle remained at your usual spot by the door. You were momentarily tempted to leave and join her, but then you remembered what Miss Britt had said. You needed a tutor.

You could do this. You had made it to Russet Academy, dammit – asking Sabrina to help couldn’t be more difficult than fifteen years of ballet class.

“Do you have a second?” you said, lowering your voice. “I wanted to ask you something.”

After another long pause, Sabrina raised her head. “What?”

She sounded curious at least, which you supposed was a start. Even if said curiosity didn’t extend to her lowering her leg, or even her voice.

“Uh…” You blinked, your nervousness rising. If Sabrina said no, it would be absolutely humiliating. “I know you’ve been training at Russet longer than most people in our class.”

Sabrina stared. “And?”

You bit down on your lip to keep from saying something you’d regret. Clearly, Sabrina wasn’t going to make this easy on you and again, you wondered if this was a bad idea. You reminded yourself that you’d committed to doing whatever was necessary to keep your spot at Russet.

“I don’t know if you noticed, but ballet isn’t really my dance style.” Ignoring the small smirk she gave, you continued. “I know it’s yours though, so I was wondering if you’d be open to practicing together sometime. You know, maybe you could give me some pointers.”

Sabrina looked at you a long moment, then lowered her leg. Bending lithely at the waist, she grasped her water bottle to take a casual swig. She remained silent the entire time, forcing you to stand there and watch. To stand there and wait while she considered your proposition.

The kernel of humiliation within you grew even further.

Sabrina turned her head. “Do you know what my mom said to me when I told her I wanted to dance professionally?”

You blinked, not having expected this as a response. It wasn’t an actual answer to your question, so you tried not to sound annoyed when you said, “Uh, no.”

Sabrina arched a brow. “She said there wasn’t much room for women at the top.”

“She… huh?”

“Success is a zero-sum game.” Sabrina spoke slowly, as one would to a child. “There are fifteen spots offered at the end of our four-year program. If you get one, that means there’s one less spot for me at the table. Why would I help when it’s to my best interest not to?”

For a moment you could only stare at her, open-mouthed.

“See?” Sabrina set her water bottle down. “You can’t even think of a good reason. Maybe you weren’t a ballerina before, but you were a dancer. You know how competitive this field is, especially for women.”

An uncomfortable feeling spread through you. Sabrina’s words were remarkably similar to what you had said to Jimin but still, you hated hearing them thrown back in your face.

“You don’t think this is all a little… juvenile?” you said, a last-ditch effort to salvage the situation. “This isn’t high school anymore, Sabrina. We’ve all made it.”

“Yeah – to Russet,” she said, point blank. “This is barely the start if you want to dance professionally, Y/N. It’s nothing against you personally, if that makes you feel any better.”

“Oh, good. As long as it’s not personal.”

Sabrina smirked. “Well, maybe it’s a little personal. Like I said to you yesterday, I really wouldn’t mind having Jimin for a partner. If you got kicked out, that would solve things, wouldn’t it?”

Teeth gritted, you stopped the next words from leaving your mouth. They hung on the tip of your tongue, stillborn while you pointedly shoved them back down. If you said anything more to her, you might seriously regret it and Sabrina wasn’t worth that kind of stress to you now.

Turning around, you bent to pick up your bag – only to stop as Mr. Jordan entered the room.

“Sorry I’m late, class!” he said, shaking free from his jacket. “Subway was a nightmare. Anyways, I’m here now, so let’s start.”

Realizing you were stuck, you slowly turned back around. It seemed your place at the barre had been decided. Sabrina hid her smile when you took a step closer, placing one hand on the barre and lifting your chin in the air.

It had been silly to ask Sabrina for help. You apparently expected too much from someone so utterly determined to rise alone to the top. You could only assume that kind of attitude would one day rise to bite her in the ass but until then, you just had to grin and bear it.

Even more irksome was the fact that she’d said so many of the same things you’d told Jimin. Pushing this uncomfortable thought aside, you forced yourself to concentrate on the combination Mr. Jordan began.

The entire length of the barre, you avoided eye contact with Sabrina. It was a difficult feat, but you managed it because you had no other choice. Throughout tendus, dégagés and rond de jambes, you sucked it up and stood next to Sabrina in glowering silence.

You were so concentrated, the time at the barre seemed to go by faster than usual. The first time you glanced at the clock was when Mr. Jordan stopped to call for a water break.

Bending abruptly, you grabbed the straps of your bag and said nothing to Sabrina while you walked away. Setting your stuff by near Noelle, you straightened and began to furiously unscrew your cap. She gave you a sympathetic look while you did this, reaching overhead to studiously re-do her bun.

“That bad, huh?” she said.

Furious, you scowled. “She’s an asshole.”

Noelle’s brows shot straight up. “Damn,” she whistled. “What’d the ice queen say?”

“That she hopes I drop out,” you said shortly, turning around. “That there’s only so much room for women at the top. She told me dance is a zero-sum game and if she helps me get a spot at Russet Company, it’d be one less spot for her to take.”

Noelle made a disappointed noise with her tongue. “See,” she said, around a mouthful of bobby pins. “That’s exactly the kind of attitude that’s kept women down for centuries. Let’s ban together to burn the men!”

Although you laughed a little, you quieted quickly. Remembering your conversation with Sabrina made your legs a bit shaky. Shutting your eyes, you took several deep breaths until you felt calmer.

“I know,” you said with a sigh. “I know that it’s stupid and ultimately, I don’t care what Sabrina thinks – but she just makes me so mad.”

“She really said she hopes you drop out?”

Opening your eyes, you nodded. “Apparently, she wants Jimin as her ballet partner.”

“W-ow.” Noelle shook her head. “This plot has more twists than the Winchester mansion.”

Unable to help it, you snorted. “Oh, well,” you said glumly, following Noelle out on the floor. “It’s probably for the best. If this is how she reacts to me asking for help, imagine how awful she’d be as an instructor.”

“Yeah, you definitely dodged a bullet there,” Noelle agreed.

When Mr. Jordan cleared his throat, this led to a scurrying of movement as everyone took their places. He began to show the combination, leading the class through the steps with an easy poise. When the time came for you to break into pairs, you were forced to look around the room before you spotted Jimin.

He stood on the opposite side from you, practicing the steps Mr. Jordan had laid out. You blinked, hesitating a moment before crossing the room to his side. Every time before now, he had come to stand beside you.

Coming to a stop, you looked at him curiously. “Why’re you over here?”

Jimin shrugged in response.

You opened your mouth to continue, but then Mr. Jordan began the partner portion of the combo. Falling silent, you stood beside Jimin while you learned the steps. He was oddly quiet. This quietness alone wasn’t enough to raise any brows, though you typically exchanged at least minimal small talk. You know, hand here, leg there, lift your arms higher – that type of thing.

His silence wasn’t the only thing about him that was odd, though. His grip on your waist felt different today – rough, almost angry as you practiced the first lift. You winced when you landed, stumbling a bit as you whirled around.

“What was that?” you demanded.

Jimin blinked innocently. “What was what?”

You stared at him a moment before deciding it wasn’t worth it. “Whatever,” you said, turning around. “Gentler, next time – okay?”

“Sure.”

Jimin moved back into place, standing in fifth position while Mr. Jordan started the song over. The combination wasn’t an adagio, comprised of slower movements, but a fast-paced pas de deux he’d created last week. You didn’t have much experience with this kind of partnering; most of your classes had preferred slower movements so far.

The fast pace required a higher level of trust with your partner, since you didn’t have time to second-guess all their movements. Apparently, Mr. Jordan had decided the fastest way to learn was to do. Jimin led you through the combination, one hand firm on your waist.

Normally, Jimin was a solid male partner to you. He knew when to push, when to hold back and when to allow you to take the lead. This no longer seemed to be the case. As you started to dance, you found yourself a bit dizzy. Jimin didn’t let you finish each spot before he whisked you around, keeping you – both literally and metaphorically – on your toes.

A swear nearly escaped when he pulled you to his chest – eyes flashing, you turned and started to boureé away. Jimin chassed forward, ending in a lunge for circular port de bras.

“You’re doing it again,” you muttered, moving behind him.

Facing forward, you piqued into arabesque.

“Doing what?” he said blithely.

Jimin twisted, grasping your hand in his as he crossed behind. Placing one hand on your hip, he waited for you to wrap your leg around him in attitude arabesque.

“You know what,” you hissed, as he walked you in a promenade.

Extending your leg fully, you lowered yourself in a penché. Contrary to their appearance, penchés were difficult to do with a partner. It involved an extension to arabesque, then bending with said leg held at a ninety-degree angle, or higher. The male helped with the motion, but his addition altered both your centers of gravity. It might have seemed logical for him to stand behind you, but he actually needed to stand slightly off center. It was easy for one – or both – of you to lose your balance.

You and Jimin had practiced the move enough that it’d become second nature – which is why you began to panic when you felt Jimin’s weight shift.

“Jimin,” you whispered, clenching your abs. “Step back!”

“Step back?” he said innocently, not moving at all.

“Yes! Jimin, you –”

He languidly stepped into the correct position, helping you up a second before you toppled over. You spun, eyes blazing and Jimin caught your knee. The smile he gave you sent rage through your veins, since it was instantly apparent he’d been fucking with you.

You imagined those cartoons where the main character’s head exploded, or became a volcano, or turned into a tea kettle that had steam escaping. This was exactly how you felt, but there was no time to respond, since the next portion of the combination was fast and required intense concentration. Shooting Jimin a glare which promised him a painful death, you continued.

Luckily, barre had been long, so only one combination remained until you were released from class. You contained your annoyance until class had ended, turned to stalk across the room the second Mr. Jordan turned off the music.

Noelle chuckled when she saw, noticing your clear annoyance. “Oh, no,” she said, glancing across the room. “What’d he do now?”

“Oh, nothing,” you seethed, tossing things in your bag. Yanking out sweatpants, you tugged these over your leotard. “Nothing a little conversation won’t fix.”

Knowingly, Noelle nodded. “Is ‘conversation’ code for beating Jimin up in the parking lot?”

Despite yourself, you laughed, slinging your bag over your shoulder. “Unfortunately not,” you said with a sigh as you walked from the room. “This’ll be a lot less fun.”

You came to a stop in the hall, some of your anger diminishing. A current of annoyance simmered beneath the surface though, since it was one thing for Jimin just not to like you – it was another entirely that he purposefully antagonize and jeopardize your career. This was exactly what you’d been worried about when you’d been assigned as partners.

“Well.” Noelle glanced at the room. “Did you want to get dinner tonight? You know, after you’re done tearing Jimin a new one.”

“Dinner sounds good,” you agreed. “I’m hanging out with Finn later, but I’m free before then.”

Noelle nodded sagely. “Good, good. I hear it’s healthy to fuel up before a massive sex marathon.”

Jimin – who’d been exiting the room – stopped short.

“Uh – what?” he said, glancing between you.

Waggling her fingers goodbye, Noelle shrugged and walked past. “Nothing for you to worry about. Good luck walking later, Park!”

Jimin stared at her as she left, completely bewildered until you grabbed him by the elbow and started dragging him away. He stumbled forward, not having expected the motion – but caught up to you fast as he tugged his arm free.

“Hey! Whoa, Y/N – what’re you doing?”

You whirled to face him in the hall.

“What was that?” you demanded.

Jimin blinked at you, uncertain. “Uh, let’s see. I was minding my own business and you just assaulted me –”

“During class,” you interrupted, gesturing at the classroom. “You had such an attitude today. You can’t even say it wasn’t purposeful, because –”

“Y/N.” Jimin stared in disbelief. “Are you seriously asking me what’s wrong? Your memory can’t be that short.”

Faltering a bit, you came to a stop. Jimin’s expression told you you were missing something big. It was last night, you realized. Jimin was mad about last night, when he’d chased you down the hall and you’d basically told him to fuck off.

“Ah,” Jimin said, seeing your understanding dawn. “I take it you remember now. That time you ambushed me in the hall and said I don’t deserve to be here?”

“That’s… that’s not what I meant by that.”

“Oh?” His laugh sounded forced. “You told me I only worked half as hard as you did.”

“Well, because you do!” you sputtered.

The words escaped despite your intent to stay cordial. Jimin was right; you had exploded last night and some of that wasn’t his fault, but the core of what you’d told him remained. Guys did have an easier time than girls in the dance world. That was just a fact.

“Come on, Y/N.” Angrily, Jimin shoved a hand through his hair. “You seriously think that I’ve had it easy? I used to hide my dance stuff in a hockey bag because all the kids at my school teased me about wearing tights.”

Somewhat uncomfortably, you recalled what Finn had said the other night at dinner. Jimin wasn’t wrong about external prejudices regarding male dancers.

“I’m not saying you weren’t teased, Jimin.”

“Teased?” He stared at you in disbelief. “Y/N. I was beat up every day on the playground for the entirety of third grade. When I was eleven, some kids filled my locker with used tampons because I was a ‘pussy.’ Freshman year, I asked a girl to the dance and she said yes – only to stand me up the night of because her friends thought it’d be funny. I once went to ballet class in bare feet for a week because some assholes stole my bag and hid it in the women’s locker room. My life was shit half the time, Y/N,” he said, with sudden vehemence. “The only reason I kept going was because I love dance more than anything else.”

Jimin stopped talking, slightly out of breath and you stared at him in shock, never having heard him this angry before.

You’d thought that you had. You’d thought he’d been angry all those times you beat him in dance, but you had never seen Jimin looking anything like this. Hurt, a little broken and fiercely determined.

In some ways, it felt like the first time you’d seen him.

“Yeah, well…” You paused, trying to gather your thoughts. “I don’t know what to say to that. That sucks.”

Jimin laughed, a bit hollow. “Yeah, sure,” he muttered, glancing away. “Fuck. I didn’t want to… make you feel bad, or whatever. That’s not why I said it. I just wanted you to know I’ve also overcome stuff to be here.”

Hearing him speak, you both bristled and wondered why he said it like that. Like he wanted you specifically to know and not someone else.

“I’m not saying you haven’t worked hard,” you admitted. “That sucks, but it doesn’t take away from the fact that there are ten female dancers for every one guy. Dance is a lot more competitive for women than men.”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I haven’t also worked my ass off.”

“No one’s saying you didn’t,” you snapped, finally fed up. “I’m just saying more doors were opened for the effort you gave than for mine. And besides,” you added, unable to help yourself. “I’m sure it was real hard, coming from Harleigh Heights.”

Jimin seemed baffled by this. “What does my hometown have anything to do with this?”

“Oh, come on, Jimin. You can’t be that naïve.”

“What’re you talking about?”

“You’re rich!” you blurted. “Or at least, your family is. You could afford all those fancy master classes in the city. You had private lessons, small group lessons and whatever else your parents’ money could buy. All I had was Rita’s Dance Studio.”

Jimin hesitated. “Rita’s isn’t… bad.”

“Jimin,” you said. “I was the only person from my studio to ever place at national dance competitions.”

“That doesn’t mean the studio itself was bad!”

“You have a fucking car in the city!”

He gave you a bewildered look. “What does… that have to do with anything?”

“It’s just another reason we’re different,” you groaned, rubbing your temple. “I know you work hard. I know you do, but you’ve also had way more advantages than I have and sometimes, that sucks.”

Jimin paused. “That’s not really something I can control.”

“It’s not,” you admitted through gritted teeth. Deciding you were done with this conversation, you moved to walk past. “It isn’t your fault, but the challenges we’ve faced aren’t the same and you know it.”

Before you could leave, Jimin grabbed your arm.

He turned you to face him, barely an inch from his face. Everyone always said Jimin reminded them of a puppy – cute, loveable, and eager to please. This had never been something you agreed with. Sure, Jimin could be cute when he wanted to be, but beneath that lay a deeper hunger, an insistent desire to prove himself in a way you found all too relatable.

Jimin held your gaze. “Seeing as you’ve never walked in my shoes and I’ve never walked in yours,” he said quietly. “Why don’t we stop making comparisons?”

Your gaze narrowed a bit, but before you could respond, he continued.

“If you’re having trouble keeping up, stop making excuses and ask someone for help.” Abruptly, he dropped your arm. “Otherwise, you’ll never improve.”

Jimin left without another word, jerking his bag higher as he stalked down the hall. You watched him go, too stunned to do anything else.

His last words – however accurate – made your ears burn. Hands curled into fists, you saw red for awhile, until Jimin had gone. After several deep breaths, you finally calmed down enough to be objective.

Unfortunately, objectivity was not in your favor, because Jimin was right.

He was right about you and you hated that fact. Even if your circumstances had been different, all that had changed when you both were accepted to Russet. Now, you were on a level playing field and you were the one person hanging on to what came before. The only thing that mattered now was what happened next; if you couldn’t compete at Russet, you’d be pulled from the game.

And the one person standing in the way of success was yourself.

Jimin had nothing to do with your lack of ballet technique. Sure, he had more money than you did – seriously, who brought a car to the city? – but it wasn’t like you’d been destitute. Your parents had made enough to afford all your lessons and costumes and dance competition fees. You’d had a studio, even if it wasn’t a fancy one within city boundaries.

Exhaling, you considered the other point he had made. While it was true male dancers had certain advantages, Jimin was damn good despite this. If you were being honest, you knew he was one of the best dancers at Russet regardless of gender.

Nearly ten minutes had passed before you began to walk down the hall. Everyone else had left for lunch, so it was just you and your thoughts as you exited the building. You felt exhausted, only partly because of the intensity of Mr. Jordan’s class.

You’d always been a planner. It was something your parents had teased you about but secretly, you’d always enjoyed. Here though, you felt at a loss.

For the first time in your life, you were forced to consider what would happen if you gave dance everything you had – if you tried everything you could think of – and still came up short. Everyone always said if you loved something, keep trying and you’d eventually succeed, but you’d seen enough by now to know this wasn’t necessarily true.

Everyone at Russet was talented. Everyone here was a hard worker. You didn’t make it this far without both of those things – which meant you could have it all and still fail.

Coming to a stop on the sidewalk, you released a sigh. It was mid-September and already, the leaves had begun to change. You’d been at Russet for nearly a month and felt you’d yet to make any real progress.

Pushing this thought away, you wondered what you’d do with your life if you got kicked out. Go to a college near home, maybe. Find another career path that’d be mildly fulfilling and yet, nowhere near the release you experience through dance. The idea of it made you feel somewhat ill.

All you’d ever wanted in life was to dance. On some level, you’d thought things would be easier once you got into Russet. This had been a naïve expectation; you saw that now. Lift and the struggles which came with it refused to stop for even a second. Again, your former dance teacher’s words came to mind. If dance wasn’t truly what you wanted, it was better to give up than to go through the struggle.

You did want it, though.

Even if you had to go through hell to get it, dance was the thing which made you feel alive. If you didn’t make it at Russet, you could figure out what to do next – but until that moment came, you’d do absolutely everything necessary to make sure you stayed.

In the back of your mind, a voice whispered – even ask Jimin for help? – but you ignored it. That question could wait for another day, you decided as you walked away.

Even though he’d made some valid points, everything else still made you see red. The more you thought about it though, the more persistently his words seemed to grind away your resolve. Jimin may have been pissed at you, but he was also correct.

You could either continue to walk around campus feeling sorry for yourself, or you could improve.

Teeth gritted, you decided to do the latter.

Lounged at the foot of Finn’s bed, you scrolled through your TikTok in an endless loop.

“Ugh, my muscles are so sore,” you complained. Reaching out your foot, you poked him with your toe. “Massage them for me.”

“All of them?”

“Uh-huh.”

Grabbing your foot, Finn pulled this into his lap. To his credit, he started to give – well, not a massage, but he did something. Finn began poking the bottom of your foot with his index fingers until you finally laughed.

“Okay, not that!” you grumbled, pulling your leg back.

Finn grinned and turned a page in his book while you let your gaze linger. He looked good, dressed in sweats and a t-shirt he’d pulled on after sex. It was the first time all week you’d been truly alone; things had gone faster than usual, but that was to be expected. It had been awhile since the last time. It was nice just to see him, to touch him and talk to him – you’d missed having a semblance of normalcy in your life.

Innocently, Finn flipped the next page in his book. “What’s wrong? You didn’t enjoy the pleasure of my touch?”

“I did not, no.”

Tossing his book aside, Finn bared his teeth and began to crawl forward. With a shriek, you backed away until your spine hit the wall and you laughed.

“No,” you begged, kicking his shin as you grinned. “No tickling!”

Finn growled mercilessly, but eventually relented. Twisting, he dropped to lay his head in your lap.

“Okay,” he agreed. “I’ll just hang out here, then. My book is so far away. I guess I can’t study. Too bad.”

Although you rolled your eyes, you leaned your head to the wall. Finn’s roommate was gone for the weekend, giving you the entire place to yourselves. You knew you’d have to leave at some point – ballet class started tomorrow at 8:30 AM – but until then, you could happily live in denial.

“Don’t you have homework to do?” you asked. “Tests? Something?”

Finn shrugged. “I already studied today.”

A twinge of jealousy went through you, although you squashed this immediately. Finn’s collegiate experience was different from yours, but this was through no fault of his own.

You’d arrived at his dorm room shortly after dinner and, after unloading the crappy events of your day, Finn had merely shrugged and said his day had been fine. It seemed Finn was adapting to Redfield like a fish to water; nearly everyone you passed on your way to his room had stuck their head out to greet him.

On your way over, you’d considered asking Finn for advice about Jimin, but had given up on the idea soon after arrival. Visiting Finn was like stepping into a bubble. You knew the vision would pop as soon as you stepped outside, but it was nice to exist outside the worries of Russet.

Finn wouldn’t understand what you were going through either, which again, wasn’t his fault. His greatest stress was an upcoming test, while you were constantly on edge about whether you’d fail. There were no grades in your classes, no real way to tell if you were passing.

The most difficult part of Finn’s freshman year had been registering for his classes; a fact which cast your experience in stark perspective. If Finn dropped a class or had to miss a test, it didn’t really matter for him in the long run. It mattered for you.

Every time you’d previously mentioned Jimin to Finn, his advice had been to simply ignore him. It wasn’t the best advice, all things considered. Jimin was your assigned dance partner for the semester; you needed him in order to pass your classes.

It helped some to vent, but at the end of the day, you didn’t want Finn trying to fix things for you. That was what he did – he solved things. He loved to fix other people’s problems, loved to tie up loose ends and find neat solutions. The problem was though, you weren’t sure such easy answers existed.

Before you could suggest a movie to watch, someone knocked on the door to Finn’s dorm room.

Lifting his head from your stomach, Finn called, “Enter!”

The door swung open to reveal a tall, gangly-looking freshman in the hall. He looked at you with some surprise before glancing at Finn.

“Dude,” he said, sounding excited. “Sigma Nu is having a crazy party two blocks away. Ellie just texted saying there’s no cover for guys. A bunch of us are heading over – you in?”

“What – seriously?” Finn sat up straight. “No cover? That’s a first.”

He beamed and glanced at you, so you gave a small smile.

“It is?” you said tentatively.

Your words sounded uncertain even to your own ears, but Finn nodded excitedly. You hadn’t been out enough times this semester to notice.

“Coming!” door guy yelled to someone in the hall. Stepping back, he returned to the room. “So, you in?”

Your automatic reaction was no, since it was a Wednesday and you had class tomorrow, but before you could speak, Finn hopped from the bed.

“Sure!” he agreed, searching for his coat. “Y/N – you good with that?”

Hesitating, you fiddled with a corner of his blanket. Ideally, you’d love going to a weekday party with your boyfriend. Finn’s enthusiasm could be contagious, and you wanted to see him in his collegiate environment. He’d been the life of the party at high school and you knew it’d be the same here.

Unfortunately for you, ballet class wasn’t something you could just forget. You’d made it a personal rule not to drink before class and it would be no fun to attend a frat party sober. You were already skating on thin ice at Russet; you could only imagine what would happen if you showed up to class hungover.

“I don’t think I can,” you said softly, wishing the guy would leave Finn’s room. “I have ballet in the morning. Remember?”

“Oh.” Finn’s disappointment showed for only a moment. Hiding this swiftly, he sat back down on the bed. “Sorry, Ben,” he said, forcing a smile. “I think we’re staying in.”

Door guy – Ben, apparently – paused. “You sure?”

“Yeah.” Finn nodded. “Y/N and I already have plans.”

Ben seemed confused; you assumed from this that he wasn’t the brightest bulb in the bunch.

“Really?” he said with a frown. “I thought you said you wanted to come.”

“It’s my fault,” you interjected, feeling a bit guilty. “I have class super early in the morning.”

“Oh, is that all?” He brightened. “That’s no big deal – so do I!”

Your lips tightened, not wanting to be rude, but this guy just wasn’t getting it.

“Yeah,” you said slowly. “But I can’t be hungover for mine.”

Ben stared. “Huh. Okay, well – if you change your mind. So weird,” he laughed, exiting Finn’s room to the hall. “I didn’t even know you had a girlfriend, Finn? Later!”

Pulling the door shut, he left the two of you in silence.

You stared in shock at the door, attempting to process everything you were feeling.

There was guilt at keeping Finn from something he wanted to do. Longing, from not being able to do the fun things that you wanted. And nausea, at hearing Ben say he didn’t know Finn had a girlfriend.

Hesitant, you glanced in Finn’s direction, but found him looking away – at the ceiling, at the floor, anywhere but at you.

“So…” You paused. “What was that about?”

“What do you mean?” Finn leaned back on the bed. Turning on his TV, he navigated to Netflix. “Want to watch a movie, or something?”

“I guess.”

You continued to sit there, clutching his blanket and staring blankly at the screen. After another moment, you decided this couldn’t be brushed aside and faced him on the bed.

“Why haven’t you told anyone you have a girlfriend?”

Finn looked at you, surprised. “I have!”

“Oh?” you said, glancing at the door. “Then, why didn’t he know?”

Finn snorted. “Ben? Look – I like him, but the dude’s not the sharpest tool in the shed. As you may have noticed,” he added, giving a pointed brow raise.

Begrudgingly, you nodded. You had noticed.

“Hey.” Finn sat up straight. Clicking off the TV, he scooted closer on the bed. “I swear I’ve told people about you,” he said, taking your hands. “Promise. Ben is just an idiot. The instant someone is off-limits to them, they turn invisible. He’s probably even forgotten his sister by now.”

“Gross,” you said, wrinkling your nose.

Finn nodded in agreement. “Exactly. Ben’s an ass. I wouldn’t even hang out with him if it weren’t for the other guys on the floor. College. You know how it is.”

“Sure,” you said slowly, although you really didn’t.

There were multiple people on your floor and at Russet whom you didn’t like. You weren’t unfriendly to them, of course – with Sabrina being the exception – but neither did you hang out with them just because you were classmates. This entire world of collegialism was foreign to you.

“I love you,” Finn said.

Finally, you cracked a smile. “Love you, too.” Sliding both arms around his waist, you settled down on his chest. “Sucks about Ben being a dick, though.”

Finn laughed, brushing a kiss to your hair. “I think I’ll survive.”

You shook your head, knowing he was right. Finn always got through things like this; troubles seemed to easily roll off his back like water. You watched him turn on the TV and choose a comedy on Netflix.

When the first scene began, you tried hard to relax, but this proved to be difficult. In high school, you’d been able to compartmentalize fairly easily but now, you found worries steadily leaking back in. Your Finn-bubble, the one which had always been so impenetrable, had started to become porous.

Worries about Russet, about your classes, about your teachers began to seep in and no longer did Finn’s dorm room seem like such a haven.

You didn’t belong here.

The thought occurred to you suddenly, as obvious as knowing the main characters on screen would eventually get together. Finn’s world was entirely different from yours, completely alien from Russet and you had no idea how to navigate the two worlds together.

It made you uneasy to consider, seated with your head on his shoulder and arms around his waist, but instead of facing this knowledge head-on, you pushed it away.

Too many things were being kept in your mind-boxes and, instead of disappearing, the thought continued to linger. It followed as you left Finn’s dorm, walked through the city streets, up the steps of Grace Hall and all the way to your bed.

Author’s Note: Thank you for reading 😊 New chapters of Raise the Barre will be posted weekly; dates are listed on the series Master List. Requests for updates will be deleted.

[ RAISE THE BARRE MASTERLIST ]

#btsbookclub #bangtanarmynet #smutcentralnet #jimin fanfic #bts fanfic #bts writing #bts series #jimin writing #jimin series #jimin e2l #bts e2l #jimin dance au #bts dance au

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elwenyere · 4 years ago

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Helps to Relieve My Mind

Hello fam! I wrote my first little Sambucky ficlet today in an effort to tide myself over until Friday’s new episode of The Falcon and the Winter Soldier. If such a thing would help tide you over as well, please feel free to give it a read. I very much hope you enjoy! <3

Tags: Sam/Bucky, 1.8k words, Canon-Typical Violence, Hurt/Comfort, Getting Together

CW: descriptions of falling and panic attacks

Read it on AO3

“Is it too late to go back to therapy?” Bucky called over the comms.

It had been less than forty-eight hours since he and Sam had decided to ditch Walker and go after the Flag-Smashers on their own, and they were already getting their asses handed to them again. They’d gotten side-tracked on their way to see Zemo by a tip from Torres: a group of hijackers matching the description of the missing super-soldiers had been spotted loading up a cargo plane with medical supplies in Kiev. Bucky and Sam had showed up just as the Flag-Smashers were readying for takeoff, and when Sam had flown straight through a rain of gunfire and into the open cargo bay door, Bucky had had no choice but to follow, cursing under his breath as he ran to catch the taxiing plane.

He’d managed to haul himself inside just as the wheels left the ground, only to have his back slammed into the metal wall of the cargo hold a minute later, a serum-enhanced fist clutched tightly around his throat.

“You could always change your mind about following me,” Sam offered, a rhythmic series of thumps and clangs from the other end of the bay revealing that he was dealing with problems of his own. “I bet you could even get another ‘Get Out of Jail Free’ card if you agreed to up with -”

“Don’t say it,” Bucky growled, grabbing the wrist of the soldier holding him against the wall and twisting it viciously.

“- John ‘Wingman’ Walker and his partner, Battlestar,” Sam finished, the grin somehow audible in his voice.

“You’re just lucky all my other options suck even worse than this,” Bucky muttered, taking a deep breath and bum-rushing the man in front of him.

“Yeah, ‘lucky’ is definitely how I’ve felt every day since you ripped the steering wheel out of my damn car in the middle of the highway,” Sam retorted. Bucky could hear the sounds of bullets ricocheting off metal, and he glanced over to watch Sam reemerge from behind a stack of crates.

“Even the Winter Soldier has some fond memories,” Bucky reflected, ducking a roundhouse kick from the redhead who’d booted him out of the truck in Germany and then sweeping his arm back to catch her solidly across the jaw.

He’d just turned to reassess their situation when he saw one of the soldiers poised by a lever on the side of the wall.

“Shit!” he yelled. “Sam!”

And then an explosion of air knocked him off his feet, and he felt himself yanked backward, scrabbling for purchase on the floor of the aircraft as he slid toward the open door. Unfortunately, it was his fleshy hand that finally found it. Just as he was about to run out of room, he wrapped his fingers around the lip of the lowered door and then let out an involuntary grunt of pain when his full weight caught against the hold, his legs whipping behind him in the open air.

“Shit,” he swore again, trying to strengthen his grip so that he could risk making a grab for the door with his metal hand.

“Bucky!” Sam yelled, and for some reason the change in his tone sent Bucky’s heart rate rabbiting even faster than the scramble across the floor. “Hang on! I’m on my way!”

A metal crate went flying over Bucky’s head, and he winced automatically, sending a jolt of pressure through the fingers clinging to the plane. And because he was always aware of Sam’s position in the fight, he knew there was no way he was going to make it in time.

“Sam, you should know -”

His words were cut off when the plane banked abruptly to the left. Bucky’s legs jerked sideways, his hand spasmed, and then he was falling through the air.

It was different than the last time. He could still hear what sounded like screaming - either a voice calling his name or the air hurtling past him, rushing away from him and refusing to bear his weight. He could still feel the terror claw up his throat and curl into the back of his mind, covering his thoughts with a white, electric blanket. But this time he knew what it would feel like when he hit the ground. He could already feel the rocks cracking through bones and tearing at the sinews of his arms, and all he could do was grit his teeth and hope to wake up somewhere better than he had before.

He twisted in the air so he could see the end coming, every muscle in his body wrenching tight in anticipation. But then he felt a hand curl around the back of his head, and a weight slammed into him from the wrong direction, shifting his momentum abruptly to the side. Before he knew it, there was soft grass under his knees, pressing up against him and holding him still.

“I got you,” Sam said, his arms still wrapped tightly around Bucky’s back. “I got you.”

Bucky felt like he was sucking air through a straw, his head dizzy with a flood of adrenaline as he clung to the fabric of Sam’s uniform and curled up against his chest. He squeezed his eyes shut to stop the vertigo, but in the darkness all he could picture was an avalanche of snow and ice and unforgiving rock, and a second later he opened his eyes again with a gasp. His muscles were still screaming with the effort of bracing for collision, and he struggled to even out his breathing, willing himself to concentrate on the weight of Sam's arms around him, grounding him.

As the haze gradually began to clear, Bucky became aware that Sam was still repeating the same words, his cheek pressed against the top of Bucky’s head. But the tone of Sam’s voice seemed to have shifted, so that what had started as a reassurance now sounded like a kind of desperate chant.

“I got you,” he repeated, his own breathing coming sharp and fast. “I got you.”

Suddenly Bucky remembered the photo in Sam’s wallet when he paid for drinks in Germany, the story Steve had told him as they sat on a hill in Wakanda.

Fuck.

“Sam,” Bucky whispered.

Sam’s arms tightened almost convulsively, and Bucky reached out to rest his hands gently on Sam’s lower back.

“Hey, Sam. I’m okay,” Bucky continued, listening to Sam’s breathing slow down. “I’m here. I’m okay. You caught me.”

Sam straightened up slightly, one of his hands moving to cradle Bucky’s head as he'd done during the fall, and Bucky pressed his forehead against Sam’s.

“You caught me,” he repeated, and this time it sounded like a brand new idea. Sam had caught him. Bucky had lost his grip, and Sam had been there to cushion the fall.

“I’ve been trying to catch you, you idiot,” Sam replied, shaking his head with a faint echo of exasperation. “Do you have any idea how scary it is to think you might not let me?”

He gave the back of Bucky’s neck a gentle squeeze, one thumb sweeping up into Bucky’s hair, and for the first time in decades, Bucky’s body responded to an instinct that hadn’t been carved into his brain with a knife: he leaned in and pressed a kiss to the corner of Sam’s lips, sighing at the warmth of Sam’s skin against his.

A moment later he froze, pulling away with exaggerated slowness and wiping all traces of expression carefully from his face. Sam was staring back at him, wide-eyed, and for a second Bucky felt like he was in free fall again, his stomach heaving as he plummeted through space.

“That was - uh,” he tried to explain. “Sam -”

But before he got another word out, Sam had hauled him in by the back of his neck and was kissing him thoroughly, his mouth soft but hungry against Bucky’s, and something hot leapt through Bucky’s chest that seared deeper than any of the afterimages or second-hand shocks that had passed for getting his life back.

When they finally broke apart, it was because Sam had started laughing.

“Seriously, man?” Bucky protested, a small smile tugging at the corner of his own lips. “I know I’m out of practice, but if you make a crack about being cryogenically frozen, I swear to God.”

“I was going to say that if the kind of healing you’ve been looking for is less Sigmund Freud and more Marvin Gaye, you could have just called me back,” Sam retorted, giving Bucky a grin and a playful shove on the shoulder. “It would have been the world’s easiest alley oop. Lord knows I was giving you more assists than John Stockton gave the Mailman - and that is a crack about being in deep freeze, by the way. You could be understanding that reference right now if you hadn’t been ghosting me instead.”

Bucky scanned Sam’s face, drinking in the warmth and openness that he had always found infuriatingly, impossibly brave.

“You’re the only number in my phone other than my shrink,” Bucky explained finally.

Sam tilted his head, his eyebrows raised significantly.

“That’s kind of my point, Bucky.”

“No, I’m trying to tell you that’s why I couldn’t call,” Bucky continued. “I have a list of people I’ve hurt in the past that’s so long I can’t even see the end of it. But when I turn to the list of people who are here for me now?” He held up a single finger and then jabbed it toward Sam’s chest. “You’re it. Just one. So if I take a chance, and I fuck that up -” He shook his head ruefully. “Well, let’s just say it felt safer to imagine you might still be out there than to know for sure that you weren’t.”

Sam’s face softened, and he opened his mouth to reply, but Bucky waved him off.

“And that was total bullshit: I know,” he said quickly. “More importantly, it was selfish. What you said yesterday about me not understanding what you were going through - you were right. I never once asked how you were doing. I guess I was in such bad shape to help anyone that it was easier for me to believe you didn’t need any help.”

Sam regarded him thoughtfully.

“Therapy, huh?”

“God, it’s the worst.”

He gave Sam a smile, this one feeling a little less like a mask someone else had drawn. Sam smiled back, reaching up to trace the edge of Bucky’s lips lightly with his thumb.

“One of those things you might not understand about me is that I’m not very good at needing people either,” he said, dropping his hand to rest on Bucky’s metal shoulder. “But I think I’m going to need you on this, Bucky.”

“Yeah, well, that’s probably true,” Bucky agreed. “Seeing as you just let the Flag-Smashers get away again.”

“Maybe next time you could try to stay inside the vehicle,” Sam suggested. His tone was light, but the squeeze he gave Bucky’s shoulder telegraphed some of the fear still clinging to the lines of his face.

“You’ll catch me,” Bucky shrugged, trying for casual assurance and landing closer than he would have thought possible.

“Always,” Sam promised.

#sambucky #winterfalcon #tfatws #tfatws spoilers #my chaotic duo #i need all the hurt/comfort for this ship please and thank you

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kozozaki · 4 years ago

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The Blame - Ranboo x Reader Chapter 3

Y/n ended up falling asleep at Tommy's house from a combination of stress and just plain tiredness. She yawned quietly and started climbing the ladder, walking towards L'manburg. She got to the top of the staircase before stopping abruptly.

"What the hell?!" She ran towards the now walled-in country, running her hand against the rocky obsidian. She could hear the angry and confused voices of Tubbo and Big Q on the other side. "Guys?" Y/n yelled to get their attention.

"Y/n?" Tubbo said from behind the wall

“Tubbo, what is this wall? Why is this here?”

“That’s exactly what I want to know!”

Y/n dug a small hole in the wall. “I haven’t seen you in a while so I came to L’manburg, but this isn’t what I was expecting…” she looked through the window of the camarvan to see Quackity yelling at Tommy. Her eyes narrowed, she knew why the walls were there, and she knew who put the walls up too.

“Y/n, let’s get inside the van, Fundy will be here soon,” Tubbo said. She nodded but didn’t go into the van yet.

“Y/n, do you know what happened to my house?” George was there. She froze.

“Something happened to your house?” She played dumb.

“Yeah, it was burnt and robbed. Dream said it was Tommy.” Of course Dream said it was Tommy. He wasn’t wrong per-se, but Dream was always out to get Tommy in one way or another, and it pissed Y/n off.

“Is that why there are walls around L’manburg?” George nodded. She looked at the town center, more specifically Ranboo. He didn't have his sunglasses on. His eyes were heterochromatic, one green, and one red. They looked really pretty.

Ranboo gave Y/n a worried look, basically asking if she was okay. She nodded and waved. He waved back, still looking concerned. Tommy, Quackity, Tubbo, and Fundy exited the camarvan. “Let’s go speak to Dream,” Tubbo suggested. No one answered, but everyone followed.

“What are you doing here, Y/n?” Tommy asked.

“Tommy, I can’t go one day without waking up and being pissed at my brother,” she admitted. They were far enough behind the others now that they wouldn’t hear, “Tommy, they have no idea Ranboo and I were involved, they’ve tunnel-visioned on you. I would take the blame from you, but they wouldn’t care, they would just punish us both. If Ranboo gets blamed, I’m gonna take the heat for him.”

“But Y/n-”

“No, Tommy, I’m gonna take the criticism for him, and that’s final, no objections. His life is probably worth 3 times as much as mine, so it’ll be more beneficial.”

“I won’t argue with you, but I will argue that your life is equal to or higher than everyone’s, at least agree to that,” Tommy hated when she put herself down like that.

“I would be lying if I said I agree with you,” she said in a monotone voice.

“Tch. Look, it’s the green bastard.”

“Dream. Why did you build these walls around L’manburg?” Tubbo asked. Ghostbur was saying the other day how everyone seemed to prefer him dead than alive, but if Y/n were being honest, even in Wilbur’s slightly psychotic state, she would have preferred him as the president.

“Just as an incentive,” Dream looked at Y/n. She longed to rip that patronizing smile off his face. He knew she helped, but he was waiting to see if she would throw herself under the bus to save Ranboo. He knew her more than she knew herself, “If Tommy doesn’t get punished for griefing George’s house soon, the walls will expand.”

Tubbo thought it over for a moment, “Let’s go to the courthouse.”

Once the group arrived, Tommy was put in a holding cell. Quackity was speaking to him. Y/n was sat next to Ranboo, they were both on edge. “Tommy, I’m on your side, but I have to be unbiased as possible. George, if you would like to explain what happened.”

“I’m just walking around the SMP and was told by someone who asked to remain anonymous that my home was burnt down, and I thought they were joking. So I asked them who did it, and the names I was given were Tommy, but there were two more. Y/n and Ranboo.” A series of gasps rang throughout the other members in the courthouse. Y/n immediately looked to the ground. She couldn’t defend Ranboo if they were both being sussed.

“Ranboo, Y/n, I’m gonna have to ask you to step into this cell here,” Tubbo ushered the two into the compact cell.

Y/n looked down at the lava. She whispered, “Anonymous my ass, it’s obviously Dream.”

“It probably is, but they aren’t completely sure we did it. As much as I hate saying it, they already know Tommy did it, nothing is gonna change their minds. We have to stay as innocent-looking as we can,” he definitely wasn’t lying, the two needed to stay as indifferent as they could.

“Tubbo please, listen to me, I have 4 witnesses, Captain Puffy, Nihachu, Ranboo, and Y/n, I was with them last night. Isn’t that right, Niki?” This idiot, it doesn’t help when two of his witnesses are prime suspects.

“I didn’t see Y/n,” Niki says. She was right, Y/n wasn’t there, but for reasons unrelated to the robbing.

“I, I felt really nauseous, so I was at Tommy’s house while Ranboo and him were helping you guys.”

“Right, Ranboo, shed some light on the situation please.” Tubbo’s monotone voice was intimidating Y/n a bit, he had always been the more cheery person in every group.

“Okay, umm, just be aware that I do have extremely bad short term memory loss.” Several people started talking at once but Y/n could only make out what Tubbo was saying.

“Okay, right, Tommy, the fact that he is struggling to remember is making your situation worse.” Fundy looked at Tubbo for approval to flick a lever, Y/n and Ranboo watched in horror as he pulled it down. “Tommy you have two strikes left, I need to hear your side and I need you to not yell.”

“It was the perfect crime.”

“Tommy!” Y/n yelled, surging forward slightly. Ranboo placed a hand on her shoulder, and she instantly relaxed, walking to the corner of the box-shaped room, sliding down the wall and resting her arms on her knees while Ranboo sat down carefully next to her. She was shocked, she didn’t think he would admit to it.

Fundy started recording everything Tommy said after that. “But hear me out Tubbo, he’s being biased against me, and Dream retaliating by building huge obsidian walls is absurd.”

“Tommy I have been advised to banish you,” Fundy flicked yet another lever, “But that is a very extreme measure and I hope it doesn’t have to come to that. So you’ll be put on probation. George, Tommy will be stripped of his power, and everything he does he will have to report directly to Fundy. Tommy as of now you are on probation, for the next two weeks.”

“Tubbo, this is insane!”

“It may be insane but I’m hoping this is conclusion is satisfying enough to get the walls tore down.”

“Well why are the walls even there in the first place? He can’t just build walls because I, me and- by myself I did a little prank,” Y/n looked up, her eyes strained. She turned to Ranboo relieved, Tommy didn’t slip up, he nearly did though. Ranboo must’ve put his sunglasses back on while she wasn’t looking.

“George is the king of the SMP, Tommy, this is considered treason,” Tubbo looked at Fundy and he nodded. Fundy put his hand on the last lever and pulled.

“Tommy!” Y/n yelled again, this time from anxiety. She knew very well what was under that glass, and so did Fundy, “Fundy why would you do that?!”

“Just felt like it.” he said in a snarky tone.

“How is he alive?” George asked. All Y/n saw was Quackity fall into the pit with Tommy and she couldn’t help but laugh.

“Y/n don’t fucking laugh at me!”

“I’m sorry, Big Q, from where I am right now, it was hilarious,” she looked over to see Ranboo laughing, his laugh sounded really nice.

Quackity exited the box and Tommy followed, leaving the courthouse yelling, “Fuck you!”

“Mr. President, what are we do with Ranboo and Y/n?” Karl said.

Tommy came back immediately to say “No, no, listen, listen Tubbo, they weren’t there it was just me.”

“Those two weren’t there?”

“It was just me.”

Y/n and Ranboo were let out of the cell. Y/n let out a sign of gratitude, people were mistaken when they said Tommy was egotistical.

While walking back to L’manburg Tommy and Tubbo were arguing, and it broke Y/n’s heart, they were the best of friends before Tubbo became president. Maybe Techno was right, the government does corrupt. A cabient meeting was called in the middle of the walk to L’manburg. Tubbo called her over and she separated from Ranboo and Niki and joined Tommy, Tubbo, Quackity, and Fundy.

Y/n spaced out, staring at the ground until Dream showed up. “Tubbo. Probation isn’t enough.”

“Dream I know you suggested exile but-”

“That’s not enough! Tommy is Tommy, he’s never gonna stop, his goal is to piss me off, and if you want that, as somebody in your nation, even if he doesn’t have power, there aren’t that many members of L’manberg. And it’s fine, you guys wanna think about it, it’s fine. We can arrange a meeting to talk about what to do with him. Set a time, set a day, I’ll come.”

“Okay, how about the second, the second of December?”

Everyone agrees but Y/n stays silent. “Y/n?” Quackity asks.

“I’m sorry, being around my Dream is screwing with my head, I need to go.” Dream grabbed her wrist.

“Y/n, please.”

“No! I’m not gonna stay around to just to hear you manipulate Tubbo into doing what you want and me not being able to do anything, as per usual!”

She walked back to where Ranboo was, he immediately put a comforting hand on her shoulder. He glared at Dream, glad he was wearing glasses. “What happened Y/n?”

“My brother is extremely manipulative, just being around him confuses me. I can never tell if he agrees with me or is on my side or not. TLDR; Dream’s a piece of shit.”

Ranboo hummed in agreement. “You should probably go home, it’s getting dark, and you shouldn’t be around all this government stuff, you’ll get too stressed. Would you mind if I visited you tomorrow?”

“I’d like some company. It’s pretty lonely out there, Tubbo doesn’t come around often, he’ll probably show up even less with all this political bullshit.” He was slightly startled by the girls aggressiveness, but it was justified, and wasn’t directed towards him.

He walked her to the nether portal where they said their goodbyes.

“See you tomorrow, loser,” she joked. Ranboo gasped dramatically, “Yeah, you heard right, loser.”

“You’re mean.”

“No no no, I’m sorry Ranboo it was joke!” She engulfed him in a hug. He was surprised, they had become kind of close but he was scared to assume she was comfortable with hugs. But when she did it, he was relieved.

“Bye, shorty,” He patted her on the head. She gave him the middle finger and stepped into the nether.

“Later, giraffe.”

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

Lmao I’m sorry for anyone who is over 5’5 I’m just salty I’m only 5’2

#ranboo #ranboo x reader #mcyt x reader #mcyt #dream smp #dream smp x reader

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brutal-nemesis · 4 years ago

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Saltwater Day 2021: Dinner Date with an Eel 💕

Feel that ocean breeze, baby! Cries in lives in a very landlocked area I hope y’all are having some fun in the salty spray ✨Today we finally get to see a Castys misadventure that I’ve talked about in the tags before: the big boy drowning incident! So sit back, relax, and enjoy the agony <3

Castys Masterlist

Ingredients: drowning, animal attack, self harm to escape danger, sort of self amputation, gore, broken bones, suicide for convenience (immortal)

Castys had jumped off of higher cliffs before. Granted, he had done it because he was too lazy to walk to the bottom, and he’d landed on solid rock, and it had been very painful for all of two seconds, so this didn’t make him any less terrified of being shoved off of this one. And yes, that’s right, he was going to be shoved off of this one, into the crashing waves below, which was certainly how he’d planned on spending the morning. Nothing better to start the day than a pointless execution!

Oh, but why are you being executed, Castys, you’re so good and noble and also immortal so this isn’t going to work is it. No, no it’s not going to work. And Castys was being “executed” because, well...turns out people don’t take too kindly to finding out you’re the dreaded Pirate King Ragnarok. As usual, he’d fought and tried to get away, and as usual he’d failed miserably. So here he was, wrists chained together behind his back, ankles chained to a stupidly large rock, and a cloth tied tightly around his mouth.

He tried not to think about having to deal with this arrangement once he was underwater, which was something he was less than excited for. There was already quite a large crowd gathered so, hey, at least he was popular. Actually, scratch that, based on the looks he was getting, he was definitely unpopular. He shifted a bit, causing the men gripping his arms to tighten their grasp. He huffed, wishing he had the ability to tell them to chill the fuck out.

“People of Meruna, we are gathered her today for the execution of the notorious-“ oh my FUCK nevermind just push him off already this whole thing was already bad enough without a speech about all his crimes and whatever. Not that he didn’t love hearing about his exploits, because fuck if he regretted any of it, but the sun was hot and he was tired of standing. That water was going to feel so good...until it was filling his lungs ugh nope don’t think about it like that he was just going for a nice swim that’s all. He was going to be in the nice, cool water without any of these assholes glaring at him, and he’d get out of these chains somehow and come back in ten years and release all their goats and that would show them.

All of a sudden, the hands on him started to push him towards the edge of the cliff, a third guard rolling the rock he was chained to along using her foot. Fuck, fuck the speech was over they were doing it he was going over the edge he’d just been joking earlier he really didn’t want to even if the water would feel good he’d rather stand out here all day because that sure as hell was better than drowning over and over and over the edge the air was rushing by the top of the cliff was getting farther and farther away any second now he-

Castys screamed into the gag as he slammed into the cold water, wasting his last breath of air like an idiot before he started to sink beneath the crashing waves, pulled down by the boulder attached to his ankles. He could only squirm uselessly as he sank deeper and deeper, the soaked-through gag filling his mouth with the taste of saltwater, just to make things even more unpleasant. His arms were killing him, and, you know what, they took the brunt of the impact with the water, so they were probably fucking broken, weren’t they? At least they would heal after...after he drowned for the first time. Already his lungs were starting to burn, but thankfully the rock had finally hit the bottom, so he wouldn’t sink any further and therefore the painful pressure on his ears wasn’t going to get any worse, at the very least.

Positives, positives, since he was probably going to be here for a while...it wasn’t so stupidly hot anymore, instead it was stupidly cold, and already his fingers were starting to go numb-nope, nope, not a positive, let’s try again. It was rather pretty down here, despite the fact that black spots were starting to cloud his vision, and also things were starting to get kinda...woozy, a little bit, a little, hell-o and goodbye, wasn’t it time now? Yeah, yes, the burning was too much it hurt hurt hurt everything was black and black was good bec-

He didn’t bother counting how many times he drowned. Maybe it would have helped pass the time or something, but, let’s be real, there were better things to focus on than how many times he’d experienced the horrible burning in his lungs and that awful lightheadedness. His broken arms had healed up, so that was something, but they were still very much shackled behind his back. If they were free he could at least get that stupid gag out of his mouth and try to fuck with the chain connecting his ankles to that dumb rock. He settled for looking around the underwater landscape surrounding him, glad that sunset was still a ways off. As far as he could tell.

When he could see and think clearly, it was kind of cool to be down here, circumstances aside. All sorts of fish, many of them varieties that he knew what they tasted like, swam around between the wavy water plants. There was even a really big lookin’ boy off in the distance that he’d seen out of the corner of his eye a few times, though it was coming closer now, and he was just starting to be able to make out...wait-was that a-great. Absolutely fantastic, just what he needed. A fucking shreilian eel. How dare he drown over and over in peace, no, no let’s add a vicious man-eating monster to the mix! At least he wasn’t bleeding, so the creature wouldn’t be immediately drawn to him. He’d get to keep his limbs intact for a little longer-wait wait wait. Okay that was absolutely crazy and sounds entirely unfun, but...it might just work.

Castys mustered as much strength as he could, ignoring the ever-present burning of his lungs, and began to clumsily bash himself against the nearby wall of stone. It was coated in barnacles and the like, but their sharp edges were just what he was looking for. Soon enough, he felt the awful sting of saltwater in the many small cuts that were now littering his arm. Fuck, that was nowhere near enough blood to get that eel over here, and his vision was starting to go dark. If he didn’t get that damn thing over here now he’d die and heal and have to do this bullshit all over again no no no get over here you stupid thing fuck yeah that feels like a nice gash it burns to high hell but so does everything and look at all that bloody water or maybe it’s just getting too dark because it is dark and...so...hurt…

When he came back to life, there was a small cloud of blood swirling in the water around him, but it was dissipating more and more by the second. He couldn’t see the eel anywhere, and if that bastard disappeared on him after all that...Instinctively, he tried to take a deep breath and ended up sucking a bunch of water up his nose like an absolute idiot, his nostrils now burning just as much as his even more waterlogged lungs. His body tried to cough, but it was just painful and useless like everything else he’d done while stuck down here, and he just ended up thrashing around like an injured fish.

Just what the eel had been waiting for.

It felt like he’d suddenly been hit by a mace, slamming him into the rocks, his arm lighting up with the pain of a thousand hot spikes, almost too intense for him to even process, the salty water magnifying every little agony tenfold. Castys was certain he would have been screaming if he had the air, and as much as this was absolutely fucking terrible, he hoped the eel would do it again. It had bitten off a good chunk of his arm as far as he could tell, but not enough to completely sever it and free him from the restraints. And for once, his horrid luck regarding avoiding pain paid off. The eel rammed into him again, ripping off more of his arm with its razor-sharp teeth and causing the bones of his forearm to crack.

Sensing his chance, Castys grabbed the manacled wrist of his shredded arm with his good hand, bit down on the gag, and pulled. He couldn’t give up, couldn’t stop, not after enduring this much, he could feel his flesh tearing, sending out sparks of agony unlike anything he’d ever known, and he had to keep pulling, pulling and jerking and tearing and twisting and praying, praying that he could rip it off before he drowned again, which, hey, kind of a weird thing to want, not that he hadn’t had to amputate his own limbs before, but weird that it was happening again, and honestly, this hurt way more than the other times, but wasn’t that always the case-and fuck there was no way he was going to be able to just snap his bones like this, and he needed it to be completely severed, and there was no time, wedge it against the rocks and pull pull pull until there was a snap and a burst of unholy agony, so intense it almost smothered the relief, so fierce it made him forget he was drowning up until the moment his oxygen-starved brain lost consciousness.

Castys’s arms were free. Well, one was free, and the other one was still manacled, attached to...what was left over after all that. He ripped the gag out of his mouth, resisting the urge to suck in mouthfuls of air that were absolutely not there. Looking down at his ankles, he wasn’t sure if-his body exploded with pain as the eel rammed into him again, taking a chunk of flesh from his side, which was definitely not where he wanted to be bitten. Gritting his teeth against the anguish that almost consumed him, he grabbed the wrist of his severed arm and clumsily smeared blood around his ankles, hoping it would entice the monster to attack them and help set him free.

It worked, and it didn’t. The eel attacked him again and again, no longer pausing in between bites to circle him. Castys wasn’t even sure where it was biting him anymore, he just knew that everything hurt, the saltwater in his wounds magnifying the pain so much that there was no discernible source. He didn’t try to fight the eel off, hoping it would just do enough damage to his legs that he could get free, but he wasn’t sure if he could have even tried to get it away from him if he wanted to. Things were getting so dizzy so fast, all of a sudden, there was nothing to do but wait and die and hurt…

When he came back to life, Castys was disappointed to find that he was not floating to the surface. In fact, one of his ankles felt kind of weird, like it wasn’t shackled anymore, but still...for fuck’s sake. One of his ankles had been freed, torn enough to shreds before he’d died that the manacle had come off, but the other one was...well the manacle wasn’t around his ankle so much as it was…in his ankle. How the fuck that had happened, he had no clue. He just knew he had to deal with it. Looking around, the eel wasn’t anywhere to be seen, probably full to bursting after its meal, and though his heart sank a little at the thought that he couldn’t rely on it anymore, he was also slightly relieved, because that thing had been vicious. It had, however, left a parting gift. He swam downwards and grabbed the smooth fang off of the sandy ocean bottom, gripping it tightly. Just a little bit more.

He had endured so much already, felt pain more intense, experienced sensations more gruesome, but this...this was more active than everything else that had happened down here. More visible. He had to make every stab and slice deliberately, had to watch the tooth do its damage, it wasn’t mindless bashing or praying he’d get bitten in the right places, but an active choice to cut his flesh away, inviting burning seawater into a wound once again, and it was difficult. Part of him wanted to stop, take a break, please, I don’t want to have to do this anymore, I want to let go, just for a little bit, please, but he knew he couldn’t, because he had to get this done before he drowned again or he’d have to start the whole damn thing over.

Relief like he’d never known washed over him as he finally managed to worm the manacle out of his shredded ankle and he felt himself start to rise. The lightheadedness was getting worse, and he wasn’t sure if he’d make it in time, so he wormed his finger into the pouch around his neck and let the death stone’s magic take him before the lack of air could. He was still rising when he came back to, and he propelled himself towards the surface with renewed strength, despite the pain of his ears popping and the odd ache in his joints.

Finally, blessedly, he made it to the surface, and air had never tasted so fucking good. Not that it wasn’t salty, but it wasn’t as salty as saltwater, and he sucked as much of it as he could into his waterlogged lungs. He looked up at the cliff towering over him, now painted with the orange of sunset instead of the gold of sunrise. He...he had been down there all day just...downing. And getting eaten. Kinda fucked. Seeing a nearby rock, he swam over to it and scampered on top, collapsing on its damp surface as he coughed up far too much fucking seawater. Fuck, his head was spinning and his joints hurt, like they probably would have if he could grow old. Well, nothing that one last death can’t fix, now that he was finally on land again.

Castys opened his eyes and sat up, feeling perfectly fine besides the awful, salty taste in his mouth. He looked over at the cliff smugly. Those bastards had tried to get rid of him for good, and they’d failed miserably. He folded down his middle fingers and placed his thumbs over them, a rude gesture in this part of the world. Seeing the remnant of his arm dangling from the manacle still attached to his left wrist, he had a devilishly gruesome idea.

The next morning, the whole town was awoken by the screams of a young couple who had gone out for a stroll.

Right there, in the middle of the town square, was part of a crudely severed arm, its fingers frozen in an obscene gesture, its skin slimy and already starting to slip off. A manacle was clamped around its wrist, attached by a short chain to the other one, which had been broken open.

The execution had failed, and that heinous pirate had escaped.

Castys Cult: @as-a-matter-of-whump @blackrosesandwhump @fanmanga1357-blog @thehopelessopus @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @hearse-song @muddy-swamp-bitch @whumpasaurus101 @yet-another-heathen @galaxywhump @starnight-whump @his-unspoken-words

#i wrote something #castys #animal attack cw #drowning cw #self amputation #self harm to escape danger #suicide for convenience #gore #hooray yall finally get his big drowning incident #sorry that it's not super drowning focused i still am not a drowning fan #it's not gory and the application of the pain is more indirect so thats why im indifferent to it #actually writing this has made me realize both how fucking batshit castys is and also that he's really determined #i was always aware that getting a sea monster to bite off his limbs so he could get out of the chains was nuts but like damn. it's very nuts #and when he was ripping off his arm like holy shit dude #you might be a rat bastard but you don't give up. stubborn stubborn man #he's like a fucking weed #castys calls kelp a plant but it's not a plant he does not have access to our biological classification scheme #that's his excuse but i will not support the spread of misinformation #yes the eel is based off the shrieking eels from princess bride #aka one of the greatest movies of all time #i dont accept criticism on this #i didnt want to use a real animal because then i would have to research behavior and shit #and i dont want people showing up like ''ACTUALLY that shark doesn't behave that way uwu''#im just very lazy and i want to bitey monster to do what i want it to do without spening hours reading behavorial articles #not that this didnt make me look at eel life cycles because EEL LARVA ARE SO FUNNY LOOKING LOOK THEM UP #THEYRE JUST BIG FLAT GLASS WIGGLES THAT GO :v #that said i did try to base the eel off of shark hunting behaviors i vaguely remember from shark week #he gets decompression sickness a bit there at the end that's why his joints hurt #saltwater day #saltwater day 2021

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collecting-stories · 4 years ago

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Charismatic - JJ Maybank

Request: hi, can I request a jj blurb with the prompt #1: “There’s so many people looking.” - “Well, they don’t have to look if they don’t like it, do they?” Thank you!

A/N: This is the fic that broke my writer’s block.

Outer Banks Masterlist

✰ ✰ ✰ ✰

JJ was in the midst of a hilarious story. Or at least everyone in the room seemed engaged enough that it felt like it must be some kind of epic recounting on his part. He was smiling talking, fast, hands moving, and everyone seemed to have stopped what they were doing to pay attention to him. The nice thing about fall was that parties downsized to John B’s house or some other place on the Cut and generally, you could name every face. Most of them went to school with you.

Most of them had helpless crushes on JJ. And who could blame them. He was gorgeous and sweet in that way that made you feel important when he was talking to you. As if some good fortune had smiled down on you just because JJ was giving you his undivided attention for .3 seconds. Maybe it was a kinda pathetic but you felt for them. You had been them until roughly six months ago when something greater than fortune shined on you and all the years spent being friends with JJ had turned into something more.

“What’s happening right now?” John B teased, grabbing a beer out of his fridge and popping the top.

You were sitting on the counter right beside the open door, goosebumps prickling your skin at the feeling of the cold refrigerated air hitting your legs. It was a little too cold for shorts but you had decided to wear them anyway. The hoodie you were sporting clearly did nothing for you, at least the shorts made your legs look good. “What do you mean?”

“I mean that,” John B waved his hand toward the living room area of the Chateau where JJ was talking. Some girl to his left, was her name Anna, you took calc with her, laid her hand on his arm and leaned in close to him.

“The cleavage shot.” You replied, “It is Anna, she always goes for the cleavage.” You watched her angle just so and JJ’s eyes lingered for a split second before he was looking away, passed his listeners, to you. His eyes met yours and you bit your bottom lip to stop from laughing at him, expression like a puppy that knew he was in trouble though you could honestly care less.

When he wasn’t with anyone he liked to fool around, you knew that well enough from all your years as friend and confidant, but you also knew that JJ was always loyal, sometimes to a fault. In six months, you had never even considered the possibility of cheating. It never crossed your mind, you never worried about it.

“It’s disturbing you know these things.” John B replied, watching the group again.

You shrugged, “you know how much crap I used to pull just to get JJ’s attention? I broke my arm on a skateboard for him.”

“Was it worth it?”

“Oh yeah, the sex is amazing.” You replied, laughing when John half spit out his beer before shoving your leg.

“God, don’t tell me that.” He groaned.

“You asked,” You watched JJ get up, heading over to the two of you while someone turned up or restarted the music, you couldn’t be sure. “Hey tell me,” you said as he grabbed a beer from the refrigerator, “does the JJ stand for Jim Jones, cause you’re some kind of cult leader, I swear.”

“You’re hilarious.” JJ muttered, popping the top off his beer and kicking back half of it in a single go.

John B sent you a concerned look, glancing out over the rest of the small pogue gathering, searching for Sarah, “I’ll catch you later.”

You nodded, turning your attention back to JJ. When he tried to move passed you extended your leg, socked foot just barely touching the island as you barricaded him.

“Move.”

“No,” you laughed, dropping that leg and extending your other when he tried to turn around. When he turned again you did the same thing only this time, he pushed your leg down and you gripped the countertop to keep yourself from falling over at the sudden jerk of your leg. “What the fuck JJ!”

“I told you to move.”

“I was just teasing you, god,” you muttered, hoping down off the counter.

“Yeah well, you aren’t funny!”

JJ had never been accused of being patient in his life and you knew how short his fuse could be but when he got angry it was usually because there was something to be angry about. He wasn’t one to be too irrational or get mad out of nowhere though there were times when he perceived something that wasn’t true and flipped out over it. You usually let him calm down before you talked it out, never one to like being yelled at, but tonight you were annoyed.

He had been fine five minutes ago, laughing with everyone and now he was going to act like a jerk to you for no apparent reason. You were not in the mood. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” You tried to keep your voice down so no one would notice the two of you arguing on the other side of the island but that was futile, Anna from calc was already casting glances your way and she motioned to her friends to pay attention too. It was like she was waiting for something, like she’d foreseen it and it was all happening according to plan.

“Wrong with me?” JJ downed the rest of his beer, tossing the bottle in the trash. It clashed against others and you jumped from the sudden noise. “At least wait till I’m out of the fucking room before you start flirting with my friends!”

“What are you talking about? I wasn’t flirting with John B.”

“I saw you!”

“I’m allowed to talk to whoever the hell I want, John B included!” Out of the corner of your eye you could see more people paying attention. You could imagine the residual effects of fighting like this in front of everyone. The gossips in the pogue circles were worse than the kooks. Were you and JJ breaking up? Had you been cheating with John B? And then it would morph into different stories, that you were cheating, that you were stringing JJ along. “Can we talk about this somewhere else? Please, there are so many people looking.”

“Well they don’t have to look if they don’t like it, do they?”

“Please can we just talk in the bedroom?” You could hear yourself practically begging him to have this conversation anywhere else. The crowd and the music and the atmosphere of the party were definitely fueling him.

“I’m sure you’d love that.”

“I’m not cheating on you!” You shouted, catching him off guard. You’d had your fair share of arguments, some of them pointless and silly, some more serious, but you were always level-headed. You talked things out first, you never shouted or raised your voice or even engaged when he was angry. You waited until he was ready to talk or you were ready to talk and then the issue was resolved. Seeing you yell like that, hand hitting the countertop, shocked him.

You pushed passed JJ and ran down the hall into Big John’s office, slamming the door shut and sitting against it on the ground, the music a faint murmur now. You couldn’t tell if you were just crying or hyperventilating but either way that tightness in your chest settled in as you tried to breathe. Everyone had been in the room, you had seen Kiara, Sarah, Pope, and John B in the back, toward the door, a sea away from you. If anyone came it wouldn’t be John B, he wasn’t stupid enough to check on you directly after JJ had accused you of flirting or cheating or whatever with him. And you ruled JJ out pretty quickly too. Maybe Pope then, or Sarah, you were closest to both of them.

Someone knocked, “can we talk?” JJ’s voice came through the door and you reached up, holding the door knob so he couldn’t push it open.

You weren’t sure if you wanted to talk to him. You hadn’t even thought of him as being the first person to check on you let alone thought about whether or not you would want him to check on you. Maybe you did, maybe you wanted to know why he thought that you were flirting with your best friend right in front of him.

“Hold on,” you started to get your bearings, letting go of the door knob and moving so you could stand up. JJ, in his overzealousness, swinging the door opening and banging into you. “Ow, fuck JJ, god.”

“Why are you on the floor?”

“Oh sorry I fucking hit you with the door, let me help you up.” You mocked, getting up and crossing your arms in front of you.

“Sorry,” JJ apologized, though a little irritable.

“What?”

“Don’t day what like that, I came to apologize.” He insisted.

“No, you came in so you could bullshit an apology and get back to the party.” You replied. “I should’ve known.”

“You’re being a-“

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence!” You snapped. “I don’t need to hang on you like your precious flock, god, I’m allowed to just sit and chill with my friends. I don’t know what you expect JJ…do you want me to be jealous? I’m not. I’m sorry if you think I would ever cheat on you or flirt with some other guy cause I wouldn’t. And I would never think that you would either, so I don’t give two shits if Anna from calc wants to hang all over you because until like ten minutes ago I was pretty secure in the knowledge that we were going home together at the end of the night.”

JJ stood there, not saying anything for a moment, the sound of the music seeping in beneath the door. You wondered if everyone else had resumed partying, if your friends were all waiting at the end of the hall with baited breath to see what might happen next.

“I like you so much. I did the dumbest shit just to get your attention. John B is my friend, end of, I don’t care about him the way I care about you…I don’t care about anyone the way I care about you.”

“I just…” JJ paused, running a hand through his hair, pulling at the ends a little as if that would help calm him down, “I don’t know, I just looked over and you guys were talking and whatever, yeah, talk to whoever you want but lately it just feels like everything is about him and I don’t know…I don’t give a shit about anyone else, I just wanted your attention.”

You sat down on the edge of Big John’s desk, “we’re really something huh?”

“Yeah,” JJ sighed, leaving the door he’d been standing in front of and coming over to you, stepping between your legs and letting you wrap your arms around his, holding you against him.

“You always have my attention J, you don’t have to do anything special.” You said, face pressed against his shirt.

“Sorry, for real this time, I shouldn’t have freaked out on you.”

“You’re right, you shouldn’t have.” You looked up at him, biting your lip, “you can make it up to me though.”

“Oh yeah, how’s that?”

“The couch is pretty comfortable in here.” You laughed when JJ scooped you up off the table, hands beneath your thighs. He never had to be told twice.

Taglist: @maplelattes22 @poguesrforlife @freckled-and-daydreaming @chasefreakinstokes @millie-753 @fangirlwithme @alex12948 @katherine097 @tangledinsparkles @carbonated-beverage @mariofgreengables @damonsalvawhore27 @dopedoodes @dolanfivsosxox @belledutchess @poguelifeeee @faded-blue @parkerpetertingle @thebookwormlife @summer-clouds-and-long-days @jellyfishbeansontoast @minigranger @hoewkeye @love-someone-special @tiredfeels @strangerthanfanfiction713 @the-only-nana @tomzfrog @mozz-are-lla @vindictive-hearts @wldflwrskyee @ssprayberrythings @jenahbell @beautyandthebleh @gothackedalready @teenwaywardasgardian @sarahcxmeron @haha-fuck-you-thot @stillbelieve398-5 @rewindlr @queenniccimicci @kissessforharryyy @thedarkqueenofavalon @alytavzla @bqmblebee @linniep @nerdypartytrashpsychic @xxchxrryxx @spencer-reid-is-a-cutie @mirjanak @danielladreaming @obx-saltlife @youngestxhearts @spnobsessedmemes @wowitswondergurl @celestialmaybank @aoba-josigh @pineappleandcherries @mysterious-adventurer @justawilddreamerchild @rhyetaylor62 @calm-rejects @balletandyuzu @oh-annaa @aiifandomsunite @x-lulu @ceruleanjj @wicked-laugh @obxwriterfan @allie-mcginn @pcterparxer @literarycharleton @khiaraaa-in-spacee @crushe-s @teamnick @daydreamlilys @collectiveuniverses @activist-af @mdgrdians @buckys-sunflower @vindictive-hearts @copper-boom @talksoprettyjjx @5am-cigarette @smiithys @dontjinx-it @outerbanksbro @mysticsthinking @heavenlymama @louisolos @rudy-pankow-needs-an-oscar @babymatilda @raekenliar @lemur46 @under-a-canyon-moon @calums-betch @dpaccione @jolomez @summerkaulitz

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stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale · 4 years ago

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Top 5 Best Executed Deaths

A few weeks ago, I did a list talking about the Top 5 Character Deaths That Made Me Side-Eye the Writers and I thought it was only fair that I talk about some of the character deaths that I thought were actually done well. So consider this like a companion to that list.

Like I said in that T5F, this is TWDG, a game series all about people surviving in a world overrun by zombies. Naturally, characters are going to die. Some of these characters get pretty shitty deaths that only happened to fill a quota, some had effort and thought put into them and how they were going to effect the story and remaining characters. These are deaths that served their purpose, progressed the story, or are an understandable conclusion to a character’s arc.

Do keep in mind that when I say that I enjoy the way these were done/handled/portrayed/whatever, this isn’t me taking joy outta watching these deaths play out. Hell, I kinda hate most of the deaths on this list, but just because I don’t want this character to die or I wish they stuck around longer doesn’t mean I can’t recognize when it’s executed well, y’know?

5. Larry and the meat locker incident

So.... Larry’s an asshole, y’know? He made it on another T5F because he sucks. No one likes Larry.

He treats Lee like garbage, treats his own daughter terribly, and is overall just a piece of shit. That being said, he played his role well. He did what he needed to do which was be a antagonistic character within the group who posed a threat to Lee by threatening to expose his past. He creates a lot of tension within the group, he puts all this pressure on Lilly, you can’t even attempt to show any kindness to him because he doesn’t care about anyone but himself and Lilly.

That being said.... his death scene is pretty good. Y’know, you play through ep2 for the first time and you’ve just discovered that these people are cannibals and they have you locked in a fucking meat locker so they can butcher you later, and Larry is freakin’ the fuck out because he’s pissed. Lilly is sick in the corner, Kenny is desperately trying to find a way out because they have his family, and Clementine is terrified, and Lee is just waking up.

You go over and try to calm Larry down because he’s pounding at the door and this dude.... this bastard has the gall to be like “Fuck you, you must really hate me! I’m plannin’ on bein’ around waaaaaay after you’re dead! I’ll be the one to put you down!”

Then he has a heart attack.

And you’re stuck in this meat locker with him. You don’t know if he’s alive or not-- Kenny immediately deems him dead, Lilly is desperately trying to resuscitate him, and they’re both yelling at you. You gotta decide if you’re gonna help Lilly try to bring him back, or if you’re gonna help Kenny make sure he doesn’t turn.

Not matter what you do, Kenny smashes Larry’s head in with a damn saltlick because I guess he missed the opening of the episode where they remind you that your actions have consequences.

Larry’s death has lasting effects on your relationships with both Lilly and Kenny, though more so Kenny since no matter what, Lilly loses it a little and ends up murdering Carley/Doug and leaving the group. But boy, Kenny will never forget the time you didn’t wanna play hero with him and smash a guys head in right in front of his daughter.

It’s a damn good scene, I gotta hand it to ‘em. I hate Larry and I can’t say I miss him, but I can definitely see both sides of the argument on what to do there. Plus it’s... I dunno, a creative death? and I kinda like that? No one else is out here getting their heads done in with a saltlick, y’know?

Anyway, Larry sucks but his death? Well done.

4. Minerva and the tragic showdown on the bridge

Oh man, I really am digging my own grave with the Minnie crowd lately, huh? Ah well, I’m sure it’s fine.

Listen...okay, look. I have a lot of feelings about the bridge scene. On one hand, I hate it. On the other hand, I kind of love it?

Like, does it piss me off that Tenn dies here because I trust AJ? Yep. Do I still wish they had maybe put Lilly here so that she could actually do her job as a villain? Sure. Does it upset me that AJ ends up shooting his best friend in order to save Louis? Totally. Does it annoy me that Minerva just won’t fucking die even though I shot her and the walkers keep nom noming her? Absolutely.

That being said, I can’t pretend that Minerva’s death isn’t pretty great.... which I know will upset the Minnie crowd who always talk about how it’s bullshit she died here and she deserved a redemption arc... but lemme explain.

Looking at the game itself, the text and story progression, Minerva was never going to get that. She was never set up as someone we were gonna “fix” or as someone who would have a change of heart and switch to our side. From the moment we meet her, she’s too far gone. The delta have their claws sunk deep within her, they brainwashed her, forced her to murder her own sister, and she has completely given up. She never expresses any desire to go back to the school. Nope, the delta is her home now. Her family. And it’s tragic. She and Sophie proof of what would happen to the Ericson crew if the delta go ahold of them-- “which twin will you be?” y’know?

She fucks us over instead of actually helping us, we escape, the boat explodes, but Minerva doesn’t go down with the boat. Nope, she makes it to land and well... she fucking loses it. She sees her delta family get taken out by walkers and she goes nuts with her gun and gets half of her face chewed off by a walker.

So yeah..... she’s dead. Almost. They try to act like we’re supposed to believe that she’s really dead after she gets surrounded by walkers and throws the grenade at Clementine and all that but c’mon.... unless I see a body or a walker version, I don’t believe shit.

Which brings me to the bridge.... there’s a lot of dread building up to Minerva’s final appearance, and you just hear her singing the damn song and bringing a bunch of walkers with her. Not to mention that she already looks dead. She looks like a walker who can talk, and not gonna lie, I like it. It’s freaky and sad and fucked up and adds so much to her character at this point. I mean, she’s here to kill Tenn so that they can all be a family again. She’s smiling and relieved that she’s dying and boy she just can’t wait to take Tenn with her and it’s not great.

She’s here to die and to take someone down with her, and she’s not leaving until she does. Hell, if she can take Clementine out, that’s just a bonus at this point.

ALSO can’t forget that if AJ does shoot and kill Tenn, Minerva is still alive as she’s being eaten by walkers and she looks so damn happy as she reaches out and says, “Yes, come with me...”

Like..... it’s so fucked, and I hate that I love it. From a storytelling standpoint, it’s a fitting death to conclude Minerva’s character and it impacts everyone there in more ways than one.

3. Duck and incredible emotional impact

Oh, Duck... poor, poor Duck.

This one has stuck with me and I hate it. I was never one of those players who hated Duck from the beginning. It’s interesting to go back and see how people reacted to him in the first couple episodes because a lot of them didn’t like him. They found Duck to be annoying, loud, stupid, and would even wonder “yeesh, when can I kill this kid?”

Which is yikes but not gonna get into that right now.

But from my understanding, Telltale got wind of this and knowing they were gonna kill him off, were like “Okay, y’all dumb, so here--” and they added in that little segment with Detective Duck where he helps Lee figure out what’s been going on with the stole meds. It’s a cute scene where we get to hang out with Duck and he proves that he’s not stupid, he’s just... y’know, a child.

Then the motor inn gets attacked, shit goes down after they escape, and it’s revealed that Duck was bitten.

Oh man, let me tell you about emotional impact both on the characters and the player because wow.

Duck’s death is slow, drawn out...and since it’s early in the series, there’s a lot of denial, mostly from Kenny. They find the train and Kenny fixates on it because to him, if he gets it working and they can just get away, Duck can recover. Duck isn’t like the others, he’s just a little sick and everyone is making a big fuss about it.

Then you have Katjaa, who starts out in that denial stage but she moves into acceptance a lot quicker than Kenny does and well.... that might be because she made up her mind about what she was going to do, which that is a whole other layer of fucking despair to this situation.

They also do something that I like with Kenny by adding that depth of him believing he had something like this coming after what happened at Hershel’s farm. Y’know, when he grabbed Duck and took off, leaving Shawn to die? Yeah that.

He’s been so adamant about protecting his family to the point where he doesn’t have anything for the rest of the group, aside from Lee if he helps kill Larry. He did what he could to keep his wife and child safe and in the end, it didn’t matter. Duck still got bit, and now everything is shit.

Then when you thought it couldn’t hurt even more, you find Katjaa dead in the woods and you still have to take care of Duck, whether you have Lee shoot him or have Kenny do it, or even just leave him to turn. Either way.... Duck’s death is just one big ol’ despairing oof.

It’s really good, guys. The music, dialogue, scenery, the pain....They really nailed Duck’s death in such an emotional way and it doesn’t just end there. This sticks with Kenny all the way through S2 and changes him as a character. It impacted Clementine and Lee greatly because this kickstarted Chuck telling them that Clem would end up just like Duck if things didn’t change.

S1 just... knew how to kill off its characters... well, for the most part.

2. Marlon and the death that had to happen whether we like it or not

Sigh.... okay.

So... Marlon. Lemme tell you some things about Marlon’s death.

First, I hate it. Nothing new there. If you know anything about me, you know that I am vocal in my desire for the Marlon redemption arc, for the “Marlon lives” AU’s and the “Marlon lives longer but dies differently” AU’s. I like Marlon as a character, I find him to be a fascinating character study. Ray Chase’s performance as Marlon brings so much personality and I love it. So naturally, I wanted more of him in TFS.

Here’s the thing. I may want all of those things, I may take a lot of joy from discussing these ideas with you guys and coming up with different scenarios, theories, AU’s about him, and I’ll always be the first one to be like “I hate that Marlon dies in ep1, I wish AJ hadn’t shot him! Woulda liked for him to stick around longer!”

But with the story TFS is trying to tell, Marlon has to die. AJ has to shoot him. I don’t like it, you don’t like it, no one likes it.... but that’s just how it is.

Marlon is presented to us as this chill and genuine guy trying to keep his group safe and together. He feels the pressure of being responsible for all the lives in this school and that’s a lot to put on a teen growing up in the apocalypse.

Then we learn that hey, the twins didn’t die. No, last year they ran into Abel and Marlon made a deal with him where he traded the twins in order to save himself, Brody, and the rest of the school. He wanted to plan a rescue mission, but he was too scared, so he and Brody kept it to themselves. They made up a story about the twins dying and moved on, but that continued to weigh down on them.

Then Abel comes back, Brody freaks out, tells Clementine the truth, and Marlon hits her so hard that it kills her.

And it gets worse.

You go through the whole confrontation with Marlon trying to cover his ass and blame Clementine for Brody’s murder, he’s waving AJ’s gun around and threatening to shoot Clem while everyone is gathered around watching. It’s raining, it’s super dramatic and tense and I love it.

In the end, Marlon gives up and he just wants to leave. Let him become a bad memory, he’ll never come back, just let him go.

Then AJ shoots him in the head unprompted. He just.... he just does it and then wonders why everyone is looking at him like he’s a murder baby.

Marlon’s death is crucial, not just to kickstart the plot but also for AJ’s character arc. His death affects everyone in that school. It makes Clementine question herself and if she’s raising AJ right, it breaks Louis’ heart, it pisses off Mitch, it sets Violet off on her bullshit. Everyone is hurting and confused because they don’t know what to do. Marlon is dead and AJ, this tiny toddler, was the one who pulled the trigger.

From the beginning, we’re told that AJ is always listening, watching, and what we do will affect him for better or worse.... and maybe you don’t think much when you tell him to always aim for them head, but when he says exactly what you taught him after murdering Marlon...? Yeah, you’re sitting there like “Well, fuck.”

But if this didn’t happen, if AJ didn’t kill Marlon, then.... there’s not a lot left. Sure the raiders are still coming, but AJ no longer has to go through what he has to or realize how much he hurt everyone. He’s no longer on that path that made him such an interesting and layered character.

Sure, you coulda made him shoot someone else, but the fact that it was Marlon is what made it impactful.

Ugh, it’s good and I hate it. I hate it so much.

1. Lee and the death that broke all our hearts

.......Just-

-y’know?

What else is there to say?

Well, alright, I’ll explain.

We play as Lee in S1, we go on this whole journey with him and develop him as a character, establish relationships, and care for Clementine. He’s a great character. I did a list on why he’s great, too, if you wanna check that out but all you really need to know is that we all loved Lee.

Lee’s got a lot of baggage, given that he was on his way to prison for murdering the dude who was sleeping with his wife. But then the apocalypse happened and he got a second chance to do some good... or I guess bad? if you do a scumbag Lee run?

Anyway-- no matter what, he cares for Clementine and it’s nice to see them bond over the course of the season... so when shit hits the fan and Clementine gets kidnapped by the Stranger, we’re just as upset as Lee is.

Then Lee gets bit.... and we realize that even though he’s our playable protagonist, he was never safe either. He gets bit and I can still remember the feeling of like... a bowling ball dropping in my stomach and my heart hurting because no... no, no, not Lee. I basically became Kenny like “No, he’s different! Lee isn’t gonna die! Being bit doesn’t mean death!” and while that is technically true.... had to face it: Lee’s going to die by the end of the season.

Ep5 of S1 is a whole journey... We’re dealing with trying to save Clementine while seeing Lee get worse and worse-- he’s passing out, he’s growing paler and slower and it’s hard to watch. You maybe get a little bit of hope if you decide to cut his arm off, but that’s just... it’s too late for that.

Not only is he fighting this, but then you got Ben who gets impaled and Kenny “dies” putting him outta his misery and Lee’s powerless to do anything. So great, that sucks.

But at least he’s got Christa and Omid.... until they get separated at the Marsh House and Lee’s gotta get through a herd of them by himself.

This slow burn is so good. His condition gets progressively worse but he’s so determined to get to Clem that it doesn’t matter. He doesn’t have time to think about what is inevitably going to happen to him, even if the player does.

And just.... the final scene... y’know, the actual death scene?

It’s so good. It’s a beautiful, emotional punch in the face. Like, way to end your game like this... Lee is trapped her with Clementine and he can’t walk, he can’t get up no matter how much Clementine begs him to try, he just- he can’t. He knows it’s all over for him and so he has her handcuff him to this heater so that no matter what, he can’t hurt her and just.... their final moments together where Lee is minutes away from death but is struggling to tell her as much as he can and I’m crying.

Then of course, the final choice-- Do you shoot Lee, or do you leave him to turn?

Both ending hurt my soul, but they’re both great in different ways. Shooting him is so heartbreaking... seeing little Clem sobbing as she points the gun at him and closes her eyes, then it cuts to black as the shot rings out and you hear Lee’s final breath....

BUT THEN YOU HAVE THE LEAVE HIM ENDING WHICH-

Lee manages to tell her more when you choose not to shoot him, but just watching Clementine get to the door and her little “don’t go” before Lee closes his eyes and falls over limp... falls over dead, I just--

Ouch... I am applauding this through my ugly sobs.

It’s the best death in the series. It has everything and then some- emotional impact, works to progress the story and characters, amazing dialogue and performances.... It still gets me to this day.

---

Honorable Mentions

-Mark’s death technically happens off screen, but I mean, c’mon... Mark wasn’t the most compelling character, but everyone remembers what happened to him. Everyone remembers walker Mark. What happened to him showed us just how fucked the St Johns were and it’s excellent. -Brody’s death is pretty good, too. -Abel’s death is an interesting one. He’s a garbage can, but they managed to humanize him just a bit by the way he hands his soon-to-be demise. -Badger when Conrad kills him. It’s super good. -I’m looking over this list now and it’s kinda funny that not a single S2 death made it here... it’s almost like all the character death that happened there was because a quota needed to be filled and who cares about complex character development when you got Kenny and nothing really matters I guess... ugh. The best deaths would probably be Carver, and Kenny when you shoot him but they’re not good enough to be in a top 5 so.... good job.

---

So... that was fun. What do you guys think? Do you agree with my choices or nah? Do you have a favorite death I didn’t list that you thought was well executed? Let me know, I’m curious.

Have any suggestions for future T5F’s? Feel free to send ‘em in! :D

---

Next week’s T5F

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ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa · 5 years ago

Text

With Cherries On Top

Chapter 2: The Proposal & The Deal

Summary/Author's Notes: Oh.my.god. the response from part one was fucking WILD. I love you guys so so so much! As always, dedicated to @rae-gar-targaryen. She’s had a bad week, yall, go show her some love. <3 ITS WHAT MAX WOULD DO.

Max explains himself and gets down on one knee to ask the big question. Your trust is tested as he tries to pull a fast one, but he makes you an offer you cannot refuse.

Pairing: Max Phillips x Reader (The Proposal AU) Word Count: 3.3k Warnings: Language, flirting, SEXUAL TENSION, Max Phillips is a bastard man, vampire themes

Chapters [1] [MASTERLIST]

Max finally caught up with you and convinced you to go with him to the immigration office. The entire cab ride across town you were seething. Neither of you spoke, and when the cab parked in front of the Federal Plaza building you got out. Glad to leave him to pay for the cab and top it off with slamming the car door in his face. You heard him growl his frustration but didn’t stop as you stormed into the building and he had to jog to keep up.

"Will you slow down?" He snarled and you ignored him.

How could he be this egregiously shameful? You knew Max was cunning. That he would do anything to make the sale, to close a deal, but this--this was a whole other level, even for him.

In hushed tones, in his office, as you threw your items in your purse, he had explained that he was being deported. That the government had caught him in a technicality of his after-life status versus his human one, and although you agreed it seemed to be a petty place to draw the line, his way of kicking you into the fire with him made you not want to help. Did he deserve to be sent back to Romania? Probably not. But forcing you into marriage? Or an even better term for it would be forcing you into fraud. The two of you were breaking the law and he didn’t even have the balls to ask you first.

The immigration office was jammed packed with multiple lines of people waiting for a free attendant and dozens of others waiting in chairs, looking over reading material and playing on their phones. This was going to take forever. Apparently, Max had other plans, as he grabbed your hand and pulled you both to the front of the line. No one stopped him, no one questioned him as you tried to make your face as apologetic as possible to the people already in line that were giving you dirty looks. He asked for the fiancee visa application and the next thing you knew the two of you were being led into a cramped office in the back and looking over the desk at a very stoic, older, government worker.

“Sorry about the wait, folks,” the older man said as he pulled out a file folder filled with papers. “Busy day.”

“Of course, of course,” Max nodded, crossing his ankle over his knee and giving the man his best smile. “We appreciate you meeting with us on such short notice.”

The older man looked Max up and down slowly and smirked--whatever Max was selling, he wasn’t buying and the realization made you want to lean over the chair and vomit on the floor. Shit. Shit. Shit.

“Okay, so, I only have one question for you,” he continued to smirk as he closed your file and steepled his fingers in front of him. “Are you both committing fraud, in order to keep Mr. Phillips here from being deported back to Romania and losing his position as CFO at his company?”

“What!”

“Ridiculous!”

Max and you both scoffed at the same time and shook your heads as you waved your hands in front of you and he rolled his eyes, giving a good-hearted laugh.

“Mr.--” Max looked at the nameplate on the desk as he leaned forward and addressed the man. “Yates. That is an absurd assumption. We are just a couple that want to get married and I assure you, our case will be the easiest one you have all day. So, just tell us what we need to sign and we can get out of your hair.”

You wished more than anything you had the courage to grip Max’s leg and beg him to shut up. His normal bullshit was not going to get either of you any favors with this man and if he didn’t tread carefully, you both were about to be in a world of trouble. You knew you wouldn't last in jail, but Max really wouldn't last in jail. That mouth that never seemed to stop talking would get him stabbed...wait, maybe jail was a good idea after all.

"What makes you think we're lying, Mr. Yates?" You asked, crossing your ankles and moving your legs to the side comfortably.

"A tip that came in this afternoon from a concerned citizen--"

"His name wouldn't happen to be Evan, would it?" Max asked.

"As a matter of fact, it is."

"I knew it. He is nothing more than a very disgruntled employee who is out to get me." Max shook his head and waved it away as if that discredited the tip. "I fired him this morning."

The other man scribbled down a couple of notes and went back to pressing his fingertips together and leaning his elbows on the desk. He heaved a large sigh and suddenly looked very tired.

“Here’s what’s going to happen next, you two. I am going to schedule you an interview for next week. I am going to put you both in separate rooms. I am going to ask you a series of questions that real couples would know all of the answers to.” He said the term ‘real’ in a pointed way and looked directly at you, making your stomach fall to your feet. “And that’s the easy part--”

“Okay, seems fair.” Max started, but Mr. Yates ignored him.

“Then I am going to dig deeper. I’m going to check your phone records, your emails, talk to your friends and family--your coworkers. If anything, and I mean anything, seems out of order or does not match your story, you,” he pointed to Max. “Will be deported to Romania indefinitely. And you, young lady,” he turned and pointed to you. “Will be fined two-hundred and fifty thousand dollars with a minimum five year sentence in federal prison.”

You swallowed so hard it hurt as you felt your vision narrow, your body threatening you with the idea of passing out. You felt like you were sitting inside a vacuum, like a larger entity had sucked all of the air out of the already too small office space.

Prison. It wasn’t enough that you had been at his beck and call for the last five years. If this all went sideways, Max Phillips, in a last act of extreme selfishness was going to get you sent to prison.

“So, that being said, Ms. (y/l/n),” he smiled and crossed his arms as he addressed you. “Do you want to talk to me? Tell me what’s really going on here.”

“What’s really going on--” you started, your heart hammering in your ears so loudly that you were sure Mr. Yates could hear it.

You looked at Max and thoughtp about how you wanted to do this. Could you really throw him under the bus and let them ship him away from his home? Could you match his heartlessness and protect yourself above all else? No. Despite how much he deserved it, that wasn’t how you operated. He had insisted on dragging you into this mess and now it seemed, at least for the time being, you were going to have to play along. He looked at you with those soft, coffee colored eyes, so full of anticipation that you almost groaned. Instead you reached over the arm of his chair and patted his leg.

“What’s really going on is that Max and I are getting married,” you squeezed his knee and saw him give a full body sigh of relief out of the corner of your eye. “We just couldn’t tell anyone.”

“And why not?”

“Because he’s a vampire,” you shrugged. “And we were worried how my family would take it.”

“I see,” Mr. Yates leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms waiting for you to continue.

“And--” you, glanced at Max and back. “Because of the promotion.”

“Promotion?”

Both Max and the older man said at the same time and you steeled your resolve and continued.

“Yes, I am in line for a big promotion, and both of us felt if our relationship went public before that it would look unprofessional. Right, honey?” You looked at Max and although you were smiling, your eyes dared him to say otherwise.

“That’s...right, dear.” He nodded, putting his hand over yours on his knee.

Mr. Yates looked at the both of you for what felt like a very long time. You kept your smile even for so long, your cheeks started to ache. The hand you had on Max’s thigh offered a small amount of comfort and you allowed it to ground you, to center your mind as you did your best to look like the definition of truthfulness.

“Well,” he sighed and opened up a filing cabinet and pulled a very large binder full of papers for the two of you. “If that’s the story you’re sticking to. Here are the questions you could be asked, there are about three hundred of them--along with all of the forms that need to be filled out, references we will need, and copies of your identifications. As well as,” he paused and looked pointedly at the both of you. “The marriage certificate.”

“Thank you,” you said quietly as you leaned forward and took the binder from him.

“Have either one of you told your families about this, happy little arrangement?” he asked as he gestured between the two of you.

Max laughed and shook his head. “No, my parents are dead. Only child, too. It’s a real shame.”

Mr. Yates, chuckled dryly, not understanding how such information could be considered funny. “And what about you, Ms. (L/n)? Are all of your relatives dead as well?”

“Mine?” you put a hand to your chest. “No, no, they are alive--”

“We were actually going to tell them the news this weekend,” Max chimed in and you looked at him in surprise. “It’s grandma’s 85th birthday--we thought it would be a nice surprise.”

You stared at him like he had grown a second head. How did he know about your grandmother’s birthday? The idea that Max paid more attention to you than you thought was sitting uneasily in your stomach, but you continued to smile and nodded in agreement.

“We’re flying up to, (y/n)’s parents house.” Max took the binder as you handed it to him.

“And where is that?”

“Alaska.” You said simply, crossing your legs and adjusting the hem of your pencil skirt, reveling in the way Max’s entire face fell.

“Ah-ah-las-kah?" Max stuttered and glared at you. "Alaska." He cleared his throat and repeated.

You returned his intense look of malice with an overly satisfied smile. It felt good to ruffle those feathers, to catch him off guard and see him out of his element.

“Well, I wish you both a safe trip,” Mr. Yates stood up to show you the door and the both of you mirrored him. “I’ll call to schedule your visa interview after what I’m sure will be a lovely week.”

Leaving the federal office felt like you were walking in slow motion. You vaguely heard Max put his bluetooth on his ear and take a call, letting his boisterous voice echo in the too loud, too crowded lobby. Going out onto the street and feeling the cool air on your skin didn’t make breathing any easier as you thought about what just happened. In your trance you almost dropped the heavy glass door on Max’s face.

He hung up the call and started talking like everything was just a normal day back at the office, like the two of you hadn’t just been threatened with the American government absolutely ruining your lives.

“Okay, sweetheart,” he said as he put his sunglasses on to protect him against the already very overcast autumn sky. “What’s going to happen is we are going to run up to your parent’s place, act like we’re boyfriend and girlfriend--we can stay in a hotel and that will make it easier to fake. Make sure you use the miles for the tickets--”

“Max…”

“I will pay to have you fly first class, but only, and I mean only if you use the miles. If I don’t get rewards, then we aren’t going.” He pulled his sleeve up slightly and looked at his watch. “Also, please confirm they offer vampire accommodations, because I swear if they put me next to some old hag like last time and I have to smell her O-positive, diabetic, dustiness for six hours--I’m. Going. To. Lose. It.”

“Max--”

He stopped as he realized he had walked quite a ways in front of you and he turned around. “Why aren’t you taking notes?”

Your jaw dropped and you stomped over to him and shoved the binder against his chest with enough force that he stumbled back a step. “I’m sorry! Were you not in that room with me just now? Were you not fucking listening??” You were almost screaming and he looked around quickly before stepping closer and towering over you.

“You look crazy, calm down--”

“Calm down? You have some neve, Max. Some. Fucking. Nerve.” With each word you poked your manicured finger into the middle of his chest, on top of his stupid, yellow tie. He grabbed your wrist to stop you but you yanked out of his grip. “Don’t touch me.”

“Listen,” he took a breath and spoke to you like the ticking time bomb that you were. “You did well back there. That thing about the promotion? That was genius. He really bought that.”

Evan’s words rang back through your head and you took a step back looking at Max. He's never going to promote you. You know that, right? Five years. For five years you had done everything for him. You had done the work of an executive level salesman and made a secretary's salary. And for what? To constantly be missing out on important things in your life? Friends. Family. Dating. You couldn't remember the last time you had actually been on a date with anyone. Everything seemed to revolve around the man in front of you--and you had reached your limit. All of this was asking too much of you.

When you finally spoke, your voice was flat and even. “I meant it. I want that promotion.”

“To what? Evan’s job?” He raised an eyebrow and shook his head. “No, I don’t think so.”

“I’m the one that is facing a two hundred and fifty thousand dollar fine, and jail time--that changes things. I want Evan’s old job and a thirty percent raise.” You crossed your arms and planted your feet as you held his gaze.

Max moved his bottom jaw from one side to the other, a tick you had often seen and come to realize meant he was mulling over his options. “Fifteen.”

“Forty.” You counter offered the wrong way and he gave a hard bark of laughter. “Okay, fine. I’m walking. You’re screwed. Goodbye, Max--have fun in Romania.”

No sooner did you turn around did Max lunge forward and grab you by the upper arm. “Okay! Okay. Fine.”

“Fine?”

He looked at you pointedly and pulled you into the front of his body. His eyes shimmered for a brief moment and his lips turned upward into a small grin. “Unless--you’ll take something else? Plus, ten percent of course, I’m not a monster.”

You felt as if a small breeze was whispering against the nape of your neck, and you fought the urge to bat at it like a fly. The press of his voice worked its way into your ear and you could almost feel it trying to go deeper. When you realized what he was doing, you gasped and slapped him across the face. “Did you just try and hypnotize me??”

“Ah, shit!” he released your arm and put his hand to his cheek. “Did it not work?!”

“Go to hell, Max!” You turned once again and started walking down the sidewalk, ignoring the faces of the people that were nosily watching your heated exchange.

“Why the fuck didn’t it work--” he mumbled, continuing to rub his cheek and coming to his senses once he saw you putting more distance between the two of you. “Hey!” He jogged quickly and passed you easily in your high heels, turning around so he could look you in the eye. “I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t mean it. I couldn’t help myself.”

“Typical,” you scoffed and rolled your eyes.

“I can’t do this without you,” he held his hands up defensively and gave you an almost pleading look. “I’ll give you the promotion, and the raise. If I’m not at that company, they will get rid of you like that,” he snapped his fingers and you clenched your jaw. “I don’t want to go back to Romania. I didn’t have such a good trip the last time.” He smiled way too large, an action more for the purpose of pulling back his lips so he could gesture to his fangs. “So, will you do this?”

"I have a few conditions."

"Name them."

"We do this my way, and on my terms. This is my family that we are lying to, so we will tell them when I want, and how I want."

"Done. Next?"

"How did you know it was my grandmother's birthday?"

"You think I can't hear every time your family calls and begs you to quit? Even without superhuman hearing--you sit right next to my office." He made a gesture of his hand pantomiming a small distance.

"Fine."

"Fine." You both said one right after the other in shared stubbornness and mutual disdain. "Anything else?"

You crossed your arms under your breasts slowly and straightened your shoulders. “Ask me nicely.”

“Ask you what? I just--”

“Ask me to marry you.”

Max paused and leaned back a bit, rubbing a hand down his face and chuckling like your request was unbelievable. “Uh. Fine. Fine.” He nodded and cleared his throat. “Will you marry me?”

“Like you mean it,” you insisted. “On your knees.”

He gaped at you like a fish out of water. His large hand rubbed the back of his neck as he looked around embarrassed by the idea that any of the hundreds of people on the street could see what he was about to do. He looked at the ground to make sure there wasn't anything obviously sticky lurking on the pavement before slowly getting down on one knee.

"There. Happy?" He gestured to himself and you nodded.

"Oh, extremely."

He sighed and bit his tongue with what he really wanted to say as he looked up at you from his spot on the ground. "So, will you marry me?"

"I believe I said, ask me nicely. Sales. Is. Seduction. Right, Max?" You clenched your fists and brought them into your chest, mimicking his speech from earlier in a most obnoxious way. "Seduce me, then. Really sell it."

Max blew a heavy sigh in the form of a loud raspberry and cracked his neck. He shook out his arms in a dramatic display like he was getting ready to perform and finally looked up at you. His expression was genuine enough. His eyes were warm and his smile small, and he even took your hand and held it out in front of him lightly.

"Sweetheart--(y/n), beautiful, intelligent, decadent, sexy, vibrant--"

"Enough." You said with a frown. "Remember, I'm a person, not a dessert."

He continued as if you hadn't interrupted his string of praise. "Will you please, with cherries on top, marry me?"

You tapped your chin in mock contemplation and gave a single nod. "Okay. Yes. Although I don't appreciate the sarcasm." You let go of his hand and let it fall to his side as you adjusted your purse on your shoulder. "Get me a ring. If we break the news to my mother and there's no ring, she will go bezerk."

"Fair enough."

"See you at the airport, Max."

You walked passed him without another word, leaving the most powerful man you had ever met on his knees in the middle of the New York street.

Perm Tag List: @rae-gar-targaryen @zeldasayer @stevieharrrr @winters-buck @gooddaykate @jigglemiwa @seawhisperer @halefirewarrior @ripleyafterdark @phoenixhalliwell @thebakerstboyskeeper @honestlystop @lackofhonor @readsalot73 @cryptkeepersoul @skdubbs @sendhoots @synystersilenceinblacknwhite @googiebeankat @dinohaze @saltywintersoldat @huliabitch @silver-lined-solitude @tainted-gay-ghost @roxypeanut @@hayley-the-comet @domino-oh-damn @manda-but-not-lorian @maybege @corvueros @thea-cartier @pettyprocrastination @qveenbvtch

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@apples-of-february @gamingaquarius @thelastemzy @californiakoenig @trashbin2 @the-feckless-wonder @silver-lined-solitude @whiskeyslasso @timeslugarts

as always please let me know if you wish to be tagged or untagged!

#max phillips #bloodsucking bastards #max phillips x reader #pedro pascal #pedro character fic #with cherries on top #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #max phillips x you #the proposal

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vanillacaramelhoney · 4 years ago

Text

Different (3)

Pairing(s): Five Hargreeves x Reader

Summary: "YN?“ she called out. "YN!”

Warnings: This is probably the worst chapter so far and I would like to sincerely apologize for that

A/N: This doesn’t seem to be showing up in tags, even after reuploading it, so for those of you that see it, I’d really appreciate it if you reblogged!

Masterlist

Previous | Next

“We survived on scraps. Canned food, cockroaches, anything we could find.” Five let out a sad chuckle. “You know that rumor that Twinkies have an endless shelf life? Well, it’s total bullshit.”

Vanya had brought coffee for the two of them, and they gladly accepted it. YN had moved to sit on the floor to be closer to Five.

“I can’t even imagine,” said Vanya.

“It was the only way to survive,” YN told her.

“We adapted,” Five said. “Whatever the world threw at us, we found a way to overcome it.” He paused a moment.

“You got anything stronger?”

He ended up with a decent amount of alcohol, jumping right in for a sip. YN had declined her offers for some as well.

“You think we’re crazy, don’t you?” he asked.

Vanya, who stared at the two with a look that added to his suspicions, quickly shook her head lightly.

“No,” she stammered, “it’s just… it’s a lot to take in.”

“Exactly what don’t you understand?”

“Calm down, Five,” YN muttered to him from where she still sat.

“Why didn’t you just time travel back?” Vanya asked.

Five scoffed and blew a breath. “Gee, wish I’d thought of that,” he sassed. “Time travel is a crapshoot. I went into the ice and never acorn-ed.” That earned him an odd look from YN.

“You think I didn’t try everything to get back to my family?”

Vanya was quiet for a second.

“If you grew old there, you know, in the apocalypse, how come you still look like a kid?” she asked. “Her, too.” She glanced back at YN.

“I told you already,” Five said, moving past her to the kitchen. “I must have got the equations wrong.” He opened the bottle to pour more for himself.

“I mean, Dad always used to say that time travel could mess up your mind. Well, maybe that’s what’s happening?”

“This was a mistake.” Five put his class down. “You’re too young, too naive to understand.” Five walked past Vanya to the door as she objected.

YN stood slowly in the chance that she needed to join him.

Five looked back at Vanya.

“I haven’t seen you in a long time, and I don’t want to lose you again,” she told him. “That’s all.”

Five looked at the ground.

“You know what, it’s getting late, and I have lessons early, and I neep to sleep, and I’m sure both of you do, too,” she said. She laid a blanket out on the couch before looking at Five. “We’ll talk in the morning again, okay? I promise.”

She gave Five a quiet ‘night’ as she passed him, to which he returned.

The two watched in silence as she walked back to her room. Five sat on the couch.

“We’re not staying, are we?” YN asked.

With a sigh, he pulled out a cloth, unwrapping a fake eye from inside. He showed it to her, and she nodded in understanding.

They snuck out of the apartment, careful to make sure Vanya didn’t hear them.

Blue and red flashed brightly in the dark of night, and loud police sirens filled the area.

The area around Griddy’s Donuts was blocked off by officers, while others investigated the mess inside.

“This is a once in a blue moon type of situation I’d say,” Detective Eudora Patch spoke as she looked around the room.

“I’m inclined to agree,” her colleague, Chuck, said.

“Same gun on every vic, all M4s,” she remarked. “All the casings are .223s. Know what I think?” She looked over at Chuck. “I think these idiots all shot each other.”

“And stabbed,” he added. “One across the neck, one all over his backside, two in multiple different areas, and this guy got his neck snapped.”

Eudora crouched by said man.

“All quick and efficient kills,” Chuck commented.

“These guys were definitely professionals,” Eudora said. “Dumb, but professionals. Any witnesses?” She stood up.

“Yes,” Chuck answered, pointing to the corner of the restaurant. “One. It happened during her shift.”

“Oh, god.”

Eudora quickly walked over to the woman. “Agnes?”

“Oh, Eudora,” the woman sighed, watching as she sat across from her.

“I need to ask you a few questions,” Eudora said. “Did you see what happened here?”

Agnes sighed. “No, not exactly.”

“Let’s start at the top.”

“Well, it was a slow night, it was quiet,” Agnes explained. “My last customers were this guy and his kid, and- oh dear, Eudora, YN was there.”

Eudora’s brows furrowed together. “Wait, what? She’s supposed to be at home right now.” The woman shook her head. “I- please continue.”

“The guy had a donut- no, no that’s not right,” Agnes shook her head. “The guy had an eclair, the kid had coffee, and YN had her usual. I went into the back room to just get some more change, but then I heard his truck start up. They drove away. I don’t know if YN left during that time, but I hope she did because that’s when I heard shots. And by the time I got back in here…” The woman trailed off, looking over at the mess surrounding them.

Eudora could feel her heart beating out of her chest. She wanted to run out of the shop and home, but she had a job to focus on right now.

“Was there anyone else in the shop?” she asked.

“No, I don’t think so,” Agnes shook her head. “I’m sorry, not to be rude, but do I have to go through this all again?”

“Again?” Eudora asked.

“Well, I already told the other detective everything.”

“What other detective?”

Unlocking the door of her house, Eudora quickly stepped inside.

“YN?” she called out. “YN!”

The girl came tumbling around a corner, dressed in pajamas and hair wet.

“Hey!” she smiled at the sight of the woman, skipping toward her. “You’re home early for once.”

“Are you alright?” Eudora quickly fussed over her.

YN’s grin faded into a look of confusion. “Of course, I am. Why wouldn’t I be?”

Eudora sighed. “Why were you out at Griddy’s so late?”

“I wasn’t,” YN said, her confusion deepening. “I was here all day. I just got out of the shower not too long ago.”

“Agnes said that you came in earlier.” YN shook her head.

“Maybe it was someone that looked like me? All I know is that I didn’t go out to Griddy’s today.”

Eudora pursed her lips, her face still showing concern.

“Are you sure?”

“Mom,” YN sighed.

“Alright, alright,” Eudora caved, holding her hands up in defense. “Maybe it was just the shock that had her confused. I’m just worried about your safety. I don’t want anything bad happening to you again.”

“Nothing bad is going to happen to me,” YN laughed lightly. “Besides, I’ve already told you- I don’t remember anything that supposedly happened before you adopted me, so you don’t need to worry about it.”

With a sigh, Eudora pressed a kiss to the top of her daughter’s head.

“Alright,” she said. “Go get some sleep.”

With a nod, YN ran off to her room.

“I love you!” Eudora called after her.

“Love you, too!”

----Taglist

@fancytravelerbird @megasimpleplan4ever @yikes-matey

#tua x reader #number five x reader #five x reader #five hargreeves x reader #umbrella academy x reader #tua x you #tua #number five #number five x you #five x you #five hargreeves #five hargreeves x you #The Umbrella Academy #Umbrella Academy #umbrella academy imagine

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tochasingwaterfalls · 4 years ago

Text

toni and shelby scenes i practiced writing because i officially have no life anymore

(2nd pov shelby and not always entirely accurate)

1. what the fuck are you wearing

The first time Toni talks to you, like really interacts with you, is when you pull Martha out of that riptide and bandage her ankle with the material of your top. She comes flying towards the two of you, worried about Martha, and so relieved, that she doesn’t even notice you at first. But when Martha shifts her attention towards you, compliments you, thanks you for the help, Toni looks at you. And she doesn’t just look at you, she scans you up and down and your skin starts to feel hot under the intensity of her gaze and you’re about to say something when -

“What the fuck are you wearing.”

You decide to brush over that, you tell yourself that she‘s on edge like all of you, that she didn’t mean for it to sound this patronizing, and when you walk back to the others, you try not to think about the way she looked at you. You try not to think about the way it made your skin crawl and burn at the same time, something you‘ve never felt before and something so entirely wrong.

2. god’s such a joke

“I‘m so sick of looking at your fucking ponytail. I feel like it thinks it’s better than me,“ she bites and when you turn around, she’s right there, up in your personal space, looking at you and challenging you to bite back with her eyes so intense that you forget how to breathe for a moment.

“Why don’t you go in front, then?” You offer and she scoffs, brushes right past you with all her anger and when your hands just barely touch, it sets your body on fire all over again. You’re proud that you didn't let her get under your skin with all her punching remarks, toned arms and that insufferable smirk of hers - and yet what you fail to realize is, that she already runs so much deeper.

Toni stomps in front of you, each step loaded with a tension that stems from a place much further away than anything on this island but at least she’s not talking and you can finally concentrate on finding water. The Lord helps those who help themselves. You mumble a few prayers under your breath and it’s like she’s waited for just that, because she whirls around, snaps “God‘s such a joke,” and scoffs when you stay quiet. It’s something she seems to be doing a lot; scoffing, picking fights where there are none, fighting battles only she knows the cause of. “Do you know He is just a brainwashing tool designed to enslave the masses?“ She’s smirking again, thinks she’s cornered you, and you don’t know why you feel the need to say something back, maybe because you don’t want her to think you have no backbone, or maybe just because you want to see how she reacts.

“Even if He were just a brainwashing tool, you ever think maybe your brain could use a good,” you draw out your bottom lip with your teeth. “scrub?“

“Fuck off.“

It’s the start of a game you two continue to play; she’s scoffing, dismissing, disagreeing with everything you say and you’re brushing it off, practicing your patience, all while trying not to let her see how much she actually does rile you up.

3. don’t bullshit me, shelby

It all starts with Rachel commenting the way Toni’s eating the mussels and you wish she would’ve just kept her mouth shut. “Just trying to stay on brand, you know.” Toni smirks, looks proud, and when she brings up the mussel to her mouth, your breath falls short in the back of your throat, because she’s not going to- Oh, she definitely is and there’s a knot settling low in your stomach. You don’t want to watch but it’s physically impossible for you to look away. “You gotta admit, the shape of these things... it’s kinda like a-“

“Like a pussy!“ That’s Nora, loud and so surprising, that there’s a shocked moment of silence before they’re back to laughing again and cheering Toni on, all like;

“Lick the clit.” and-

“This is the most action any of us have gotten.” and-

“Go off, girl!” and-

- you don’t know how can they be so okay with all this but you can’t take it anymore. “Would you stop?!” And okay, maybe it’s a little hysterical with a little too much panic seething through your voice and you can’t meet Toni’s eyes when she wipes off her mouth.

“Okay, that was hilarious and Shelby has no chill,“ Dot says into the silence that has started to settle in.

“I have chill, I guess I just don’t - I don‘t see the humour in that sort of thing.“ You still can’t bring yourself to look at her.

“What do you mean that sort of thing?“ You can feel her running hot again, eyes not leaving your face, eyebrows furrowed, hand balled around the mussel so tightly, her knuckles turn white. She has you cornered.

“You know, pornographic gestures. I‘m a Christian, all right? I‘m from a Christian home, I‘m allowed to be a little skeeved out.“ You try your hardest to dodge the question, with the words practically spilling from your lips; and when your eyes finally lock with hers, you think she has to notice how they’re almost begging her not to push any further. This time, she really has you cornered and you can’t let go of the cross hanging off your neck.

Wether or not she notices the plea in your eyes, Toni pushes, because all she ever does is pick battles. “I mean that‘s not all that’s going on here. Don‘t bullshit me, Shelby, cause the vibe that’s coming of you right now, I‘ve felt it a few too many times not to know what it is.“

All she ever does is pick battles but this is one, she has every right to fight. You know that and you look away; you’re practically drowning in your shame and the way Toni continues to push makes your throat close up.

“What are you saying, Toni?“

“I’m saying that she can’t stand that I’m gay, Marty, that’s what fucking skeeves her out.” Her anger fails to mask the way she’s hurt, the way her voice breaks a little in the end and you want to cry, knowing you’re the cause of all that.

“Look, I’ll be as honest as possible, because y’all deserve that.” It’s out on the table and you have to take a deep breath before the words rush out of your mouth, as if that would make it any better. You don’t know how the others react to what you say, you’re completely zoned in on Toni; she’s the one that matters and you’re begging her to understand that when you say, “I do believe that way of life is a sin,” you really mean “I’ve started hating myself such a long time ago that I can’t remember how not to.”

But she pushes herself up to her feet and spits “I can’t fucking believe it-“

Your tongue presses against your dentures when you cut her off. “I’m sorry, but everything I’ve ever known has taught me that.” Your lips on Becca’s and how right it feels, your father looking at you and then stopping to look at you all together, your pleas that it will never happen again, please, it was all Becca. Everything comes rushing in, balled up into a wave of shame and guilt that hits you square in your chest and almost knocks you over. It cuts up your throat from the inside when you say “Look, there’s no hate in my heart, I just feel sorry-“

“Fuck you.” She has you cornered, but there are no smirks, no snarky comments; there’s just the try to mask pain with anger and self hate with believe and you think that maybe this was the game you played all along.

4. i’m not gonna take shit from you

You don’t have time to figure out what it means when you grab the pill and turn around to face her. “Toni, I’m gonna need you to take this, alright?”

“Stay away from me.” Still, close to passing out and maybe losing her life, she’s angry and proud and snapping but you brush it aside. You don’t have time for this.

“If I put this in your mouth, can you take it?”

“I’m not gonna take shit from you.” It sounds weak, her voice hoarse and her lips chapped and you don’t have time to figure out why there’s this hot knot building up in you stomach with every word she says.

“It will save your life, Toni, you’re taking the damn pill.” You’re desperate and worried, knot in your stomach, heat in your veins, and when some of the others try to take the pill from you, something inside of you snaps. “Jesus fucking Christ, am I not allowed to help her!?”

You push her over and you don’t have time to figure what it means when your breathing becomes ragged and your whole body feels like it’s being set on fire when you force her to open her damn mouth.

“Swallow the fucking pill.” You're on top of her, one hand covering her mouth to make sure that she doesn’t spit out the pill, the other tangled in her hair, skin on skin and never this close before. It makes your head spin. When you hear her swallow and a flood of relief washes over your body, you’re not sure you want to figure out what that means. It will never happen again.

Toni runs deeper than your skin, she’s in your bones and in your veins and you’re scared shitless. So you do what you do best, and you walk away.

5. you’re free here

“Do you have any idea what it’s like to have to be pitch perfect every second? To be watched like a hawk for the slightest bit of weight gain or the tiniest wobble in my heal or if my hem is just a centimeter off regulation or if I say the wrong thing about international politics? God, help me.”

“So you’re complaining about being judged when you literally signed up for that?”

“I know, I - “ You know she’s right. She’s cornered you again. “But I‘m not just talking about pageant stuff. It feels like everywhere I go, somebody is asking me to meet some kind of expectation. It’s a lot is all. The pressure.“ You don’t know how to say it to make her understand - without saying too much, that is. You’re playing the game again and she’s winning.

“Yeah, well, my dad‘s been a no show since day one and my mom is in and out of rehab like it’s a fucking white castle, so nobody expects shit from me. Doesn‘t feel great either.” You hear her voice get rough, close to breaking and she blinks a little harsher than just a minute ago. “Do you know how many field trips I had to bail on, cause no one’s been there to sign my permission slip? You know, I don’t give a fuck about going to the planetarium, you know? It just would’ve been nice to have someone there to say that I could.“ She’s rushing out things you’re not sure anyone else knows, maybe not even Martha, and you’re desperately trying to comprehend all of it.

“Yeah, but-“

“Shelby, if you’re trying to out-sad me, it‘s a losing fucking battle.“ She says it with a finality that's so much like her and it breaks your heart. Here you have her, talking to you like she means every word she says and you’re still thinking you’re playing a stupid game.

“But you’re free, don’t you see that? You don’t have to answer to anybody,” you argue and hits closer to home than anything you’ve ever told anyone before-

And then Toni says something that changes everything.

“And neither do you, not right now anyway.” Your eyes bore into hers and you realize that she’s right. That she knows what she’s talking about. That you’ve been hiding and that you’re tired of it. She keeps talking and you’re too busy staring at her lips and the way her eyebrows are furrowed together in a way to underline the point she’s making, to hear what she’s saying. “I mean, you’re on a deserted island a million miles away from whatever bullshit expectations you left behind. You’re free here, Shelby, and if you’re not taking advantage of that, then I don’t know what the fuck to tell you.“

You’re free here. You’re free.

Before you know what you’re doing, you rush in, thumbs on her cheeks and fingers curling around the back of her neck and you finally, finally, finally press your lips against hers. It’s desperate and it’s everything you’ve wanted to do for God knows how long. The way she kisses you back makes you feel closer to God than any prayer ever could and it feels so right until-

My, God.

You pull away and you're staring at her, breath falling short in the back of your throat, lips hot and so caught up in the moment.

And then it comes crashing in. It will never happen again, please, Dad. It’s not what you think it is. This is not who I am.

You’re free. You’re free and you do what you do best, you run away from it. The difference is, that this time, there’s someone to chase after you.

#i love them too much #shelby x toni #shelby goodkind #toni shalifoe #the wilds #why am i obsessed

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broadstbroskis · 4 years ago

Text

surprises- pt 8 | mat barzal

oooffff it’s been quite a long journey and thanks for sticking with me through the wait! it’s finally here- the next and last part of surprises! thanks to everyone for reading, thanks for all your lovely feedback and kind words throughout this series, and all the support as i worked through this last part! it’s meant the world to me and i hope you all enjoy this last part!

When you wake up one morning to absolute silence, you get suspicious. No baby cries, no sounds of Mat breathing next to you, nothing.

But when you investigate, you find Mat sprawled out on the couch, holding Maeve against his chest, and they’re both passed out. She’s grown, definitely grown a lot since you brought her home, but his hand still covers most of her body. You reach for your phone, snapping a picture (to add to the many you’ve taken of the two of them over the past month), only to fumble it when you see the instagram notification on the front screen.

Mat’s tagged you in a post and you sit down on the floor in front of the two of them as you slide to open it. And then, you gasp, immediately reaching to cover your mouth and hide the sound, as you look through the roll of pictures that Mat posted.

One Month with Maeve: You Like: eating, sleeping, anything your mom does You Dislike: tummy time

When you look up, Mat’s watching you, with a hopeful look on his face. “Hi.” He says quietly.

“Hi.” You return, flipping your phone around to him. “I call bullshit.”

He laughs-gently and quietly, so as not to wake Maeve-and then grins. “Oh yeah? On what?”

“That she likes anything I do.” Maeve’s just...so content anytime she’s in Mat’s arms. Anytime he’s just in her proximity. She’s recently started to recognize his voice, turning her head for it anytime she hears it...sometimes even over FaceTime. “You are definitely the favorite.”

Mat kisses the top of Maeve’s head gently; it’s a favorite thing for both of you right now, you’re pretty sure. “Maybe, but we still like anything you do.”

You raise an eyebrow at him. “We?”

“Yeah, both of us.” Mat says, like it’s something he says everyday, totally normal and casual.

Cheeks flushed, you stand up. “I’m going to go make breakfast.”

“We’ll come.” Mat stands, careful not to jostle Maeve too much.

“You don’t have to.” You offer. You know how tired he is all the time now, between Maeve and playoffs. He could use all the rest he can get.

“I want to.” Mat settles himself on one of the chairs by the counter and re-adjusts Maeve. “I feel like I barely get to see you guys right now.”

“Somebody’s gotta pay off that nice, big house.” You chirp, pulling out the eggs to make omelets.

Mat laughs. “Can’t even move into it yet and it’s already costing me money.”

“Don’t think about the price tag until you get paid this summer.”

“Once again. You cannot max out my credit card in the Target Home Section. Even with a bonus this year.”

“I gave you the most perfect human ever and this is how you repay me?’

Mat looks down at Maeve, unable to stop the smile that grows over his face, and in return, you feel one spread across yours as you watch him. “Go crazy.”

-----

Two Months with Maeve: You Like: the new hockey mobile Uncle Tito bought you, when your mom and i talk to you You Dislike: the carseat, more tummy time

When you slip into Maeve’s nursery in the new house (just barely unpacked, but still the most unpacked room in the entire house by far), Mat’s got the same sad look on his face that he’s worn for the last three days, standing in the middle of the room, watching her sleep. You give him a minute, see if he notices your presence, and when he doesn’t acknowledge you, you slide behind him and wrap your arms around his waist, dropping your head between his shoulder blades. “You’re still amazing.”

Mat’s laugh is hollow and you know he’s thinking about how he was held scoreless for the last two games this series, thinking about all the things he could have done differently so that they weren’t eliminated. “You’re biased.”

“Like I’ve ever held back from telling you that you suck before.”

It’s not a smile, but the corner of his lips do turn up. “Fair.”

You smile, hiding the grin in his back. “We’re happy to have you home more.”

“Even though this means we won’t get to put Maeve in the cup?” You can picture his eyebrows raise with the question, even though it’s dark and you’re not even looking at him.

“I mean, she would have looked really cute in it.” You poke his side. “But I’ll get over it. We’ll just have to take cute baby pictures with her somewhere else.”

“You mean, like this new house we just moved into?”

“This new house we just moved into where every room is either filled with boxes or has no furniture?”

You feel Mat hesitate. “Maybe there’s a park nearby.” He says and you laugh.

“Maybe.” You agree, slipping around to curl into his side, so you can both watch Maeve sleep.

-----

Three Months with Maeve: You Like: that new activity mat, music, afternoon walks You Dislike: pop goes the weasel, noisy birds on the walks

“These came out so good.” Molly enthuses, beaming as she stares at the pictures of Maeve that you and Mat had professionally taken, shortly after your conversation about it, to send out in cards to everyone you know.

“Right?” It had taken a little to decide where you wanted to have the pictures taken, the house still not finished and immediately eliminated. Almost all the parks nearby had been eliminated by your photographer due to lighting and the one that hadn’t, had been nixed by you. You and Mat had both scrunched your nose up at the thought of bringing Maeve to the beach already, as well as a few other suggestions. In the end, though, you can’t imagine anyone will be shocked to see the ice rink in the background of a few of the pictures, and it seemed only fitting.

As usual, Maeve’s perfectly at ease in Mat’s arms, who’s beaming down at her, in your favorite shot of the afternoon, as you hang onto his arm gently to keep yourself upright, the same wide grin on your own face as you look at the two of them. There are so many other shots from the day- Mat skating while holding Maeve; the two of you laughing while you move easily on the ice; close ups of Maeve sleeping peacefully in Mat’s arms, just happy to be close to him (unless it’s the proximity to the ice- she is definitely his daughter). And then there’s all the candids.

“Some tough choices for the photo wall.” Molly muses.

“Gonna need lots of frames.” You agree, as the back door opens and Tito walks in, bouncing Maeve gently in his arms, closely followed by Mat and Brian.

“Alright, patio’s done.”

“Perfect!” Molly claps her hands together and you give her a look because she sounds too excited. “Great timing.”

Tito huffs, still bouncing Maeve, who’s smiling away at him and probably going to start giggling at any minute. She’d laughed for the first time last week and it felt like since then, she hadn’t stopped. “We said we’d have it done in time, didn’t we?”

“In time for what?” You press, skeptically.

“Yes, “Molly ignores you completely. “But I honestly didn’t believe you.”

“Rude.” Brian teases. “The lack of faith.”

“Yeah.” Tito adds. “What’d we do to deserve this?”

“What are you three talking about?” Mat huffs, and you feel ten times better already that you’re not the only one left out.

“Oh!” Molly blinks, like it’s only just occurred to her that she hasn’t actually told you what’s going on yet. “Right. You two are going out tonight. We made you a dinner reservation and we’re going to stay here and babysit while you do.”

You hesitate, relieved that when you look over to meet Mat’s eyes, you see the same look. “I don’t know.”

“We’re not going to force you to go.” Brian says, before Molly or Tito can jump in, with what’s certain to be a much less soft comment. “We just thought you could use a couple hours out. Without having to worry.”

It’s not...the worst thought, if you’re honest, and you can see the idea growing on Mat as well. “I mean, we’re probably still going to worry.” He says, even as you can see him start to grin.

“What, now, you don’t trust me with your kid?” Tito says, feigning hurt. “And to think, I almost made godfather.”

“Because YN’s brother almost didn’t show up.” Mat throws back at him.

“Classic Christopher.” You grin at the memory of your brother literally running into the church last month for the baptism only just in time.

“You two go get moving; we promise to take perfect care of your baby.” Molly says.

“Team Baby.” Tito sticks his free hand, the one not holding Maeve to his chest, into the center of the circle you’ve all formed, and stares at you all expectantly, until each one of you piles a hand on top of his. “Team Baby!” He cheers again, and then he steers Maeve over to her activity mat and lies down on the floor with her.

“Go.” Molly gestures and it doesn’t take much more for you and Mat to turn and start getting dressed because that’s her I mean business face. “Dress nice!” She calls after you. “Suit, tie, dress, heels. The works!”

“Where could they possibly be sending us?” Mat mutters as the two of you climb up the steps toward your room, and you hide your snicker much better than he does.

“Mathew!” Molly calls, warningly.

“First shower.” You call dibs to him, and rush past him for it, laughing at the look on his face.

While Mat showers after you, you fix your hair and makeup, and then step into your closet, already pulling a face at all your dresses before you even look at them.

You’re starting to feel more like yourself after giving birth, finally, after three months, but you don’t feel completely there. You’re not sure you ever will, that’ll you’ll ever feel that easy and carefree again, or that you’ll ever look the same again, and you’ve talked with Grace and Lauren, and are coming to terms with it. Have come to terms with it, really. The trade-off for Maeve’s smiles made everything worth it.

But.

But you don’t have a single dress that fits the way you like now.

There are four dresses on the floor of your closet and at least five more that you couldn’t even bring yourself to try on before you find a charcoal colored slip dress that’s covered in a pattern of dark sequins. The strappy heels that go along with it are an old comfort; they, at least, still fit you.

Mat’s holding a tie up in the mirror when you come out of the closet, like he’s debating if he actually has to wear it, but the second he sees you through the glass, his eyes go wide and the tie drops from his hand.

“Now those hands aren’t going to earn you that new contract.” You tease, unable to handle the thick silence that’s fallen between you.

“What?” It’s like he didn’t even hear the joke; his eyes are roaming up and down. “Fuck. You want to skip dinner?”

You actually kinda do. You’d seen Mat leaving the old apartment all spring in a suit on his way to the airport or the arena, all the way up until they’d been eliminated, so maybe it was just the context of the evening, but he looked unreal tonight. You nod, but then immediately bite your lip...which just makes Mat groan. “They’re not going to let us just stay here, though.”

Mat grins, reaching for your hand. “Trust me on this.”

“I do.” You smile at him, squeezing gently in return,

And it takes the two of you almost thirty minutes to leave the house after that, despite the heated looks in your bedroom, because neither of you wants to leave Maeve again once you see her, but Molly shoves you out the door with threats about missing your reservation, and once the door’s closed, that’s all it takes for Mat to turn his gaze right back to you.

There is, blessedly, still furniture in his old apartment, still his as he continues to decide whether to sell it or rent it, and you’ve never been so thankful for his unusual moment of indecisiveness as he lies you down into his old bed, pressing kisses onto any spot of skin he can find.

-----

Four Months with Maeve: You Like: playing with your toes, sitting, laughing and babbling You Dislike: when anyone takes a toy from you

Expecting Mat, you’re a little surprised when you turn and see that the form that’s flopped down in the shade beside you and Maeve is actually Tyson. “How’s my best girl?” He coos at her, as entranced with her as anyone else has been since you and Mat had come up to Canada last week to see Mat’s family.

Maeve giggles, babbling some noises back at him, and reaching her hands out for his curls. “Don’t.” You warn him, but he’d learned that lesson already this week, and he intercepts her with his thumb instead, a wide grin on his face. “Sucker.” You tease.

“How can you say no to this face?” He cries and yeah, when she’s laughing and smiling like that, you can see what he means. Especially because it’s Mat’s smile she seems to have inherited, even if it looks like the rest of Maeve’s features might be all you.

“Mmmm, you get used to it.” You tell him anyway, and Tyson grins knowingly, so you close your eyes, relaxing in the sun for a moment, confident that someone is watching your baby and you can get a few minutes of rest.

It doesn’t last long, because shortly after closing your eyes, you feel something heavy and wet plaster itself to you and you open one eye to glare, which is as much as you can be bothered with out by the lake. “Mat!”

He’s already grinning down at you, water from the lake dripping from his face to yours. “You looked a little hot.”

“I was very comfortable.”

Mat lays his head down on your chest. “Well, now I’m very comfortable.”

“You are the most annoying person I’ve ever met.” You say, and you don’t need Tyson to laugh to know that you don’t sound serious at all.

“Liar.” Mat says, and you can feel him grinning against your skin. “You love me.”

You pause for a moment, unintentionally, as you move your hand up to play with his hair, but it’s long enough that you feel the smile start to slip from his face. “Yeah.” You tease. “I guess I do.”

Mat’s grin returns and he presses the softest kiss to whatever piece of skin he can reach, but before he can say anything else, Maeve starts babbling away. “I know.” Tyson coos at her. “They’re so cute it’s disgusting.”

“Hey!” Mat frowns. “Let go of my baby so I can push you down.”

Tyson laughs. “Well thanks for that get out of jail free card!”

-----

Five Months of Maeve: You Like: hide and seek, bananas, applesauce You Dislike: peas (can’t blame you, kiddo)

“Do we really want to try peas again so soon?” You frown at Mat, holding up one of the other jars of baby food.

He shrugs. “Gonna have to jump back in eventually.”

You pull a face. “Spoken like the man who didn’t get puked on.”

“We get puked on like ten times a day!”

“It was green!”

He laughs. “I’ll do the peas this time.”

You laugh. Sucker. “Deal.”

It’s super gratifying then, to see that Maeve hates the peas this time just as much as she had before. She’s not about Mat’s airplane noises once she realizes what’s on the spoon he’s trying to feed her with and none of his usual tricks are working to try and calm her down once she starts crying.

But when Mat looks at you for help, you don’t do anything but laugh, continuing to film the entire disastrous event. “Really?” He gives you a look.

“Not so cocky now, huh?” You fire the video off into, like, three different chats- the one with his family, to Team Baby, and the Islanders Moms chat, because he could probably use the ego deflation- and then reach for Maeve, who settles almost instantly against you, her crying quieting as you hold her against your side.

“Sure.” Mat grumbles, dropping the spoon against the high-chair’s table. “All calm now.”

“Oh hush.” You tell him, with a smile, knowing exactly what he’s annoyed about. “You’ll go back to being her favorite in an hour; don’t worry.”

Mat tries to hide his grin by ducking his head to clean the high-chair but you see right through him.

-----

Six Months of Maeve: You Like: bouncing, rolling, wiggling, literally any kind of movement You Dislike: teething (but we dislike you teething too), staying still

“I think she’s going to really start crawling soon.” You remark to Mat, the two of you both seated on the floor, opposite sides of the room, to catch her before she could wriggle into any walls.

She hadn’t quite pushed herself up there yet, but she scooted around pretty well.

“Don’t say that.” Mat groans, reaching out for Maeve and ignoring her cry of protest as he placed her back on the ground, safely away from the wall. She gave him a look, but then went right back to rolling around, rolling onto her back and then over to her stomach again, scooting toward you. “Fuck, imagine when she can walk. Chasing after her.”

“Inability to sit still for sure comes from you.” You try to distract Maeve with a toy, watching as she puts it in her mouth and starts to gnaw on it. Her first tooth had come in the other week, an absolute nightmare, and you were pretty sure another one was following.

“Can’t prove that.” Mat says, eyes fond as he watches Maeve.

“Wanna bet?” You tease. That’s an easy phone call to make.

“Have I told you how pretty you look today?” Mat beams at you and you burst into laughter because you haven’t showered and you’re covered in baby formula.

“That’s what I thought.” You grin, and then reach out to pull Maeve away from the coffee table.

-----

Seven Months of Maeve: You Like: blocks, knocking down block towers, clapping blocks together, anything blocks You Dislike: noise-cancelling headphones

“These are so cute.” Grace beams, scrolling through the pictures on her phone and simultaneously bouncing a wriggly toddler on her lap. “I’ll send them out as soon as we get upstairs.”

You smile, thanking her already, fixing the earphone covering Maeve’s tiny head. It’s the Islanders’ home opener, Maeve’s first game actually attending, and there’d been a well-documented photo shoot with all the kids prior to the group of you heading down to the glass, to wait for warm ups to start.

She wasn’t a big fan of the headphones you’d placed on her ears, constantly reaching up to bat them off, but she was looking around, eyes wide as she stared at the crowd around her, even after both teams skated out for warm ups, unable to grasp what exactly was happening.

But she was smiling, beaming the whole time, a grin that only got wider when Mat skated up to the glass in front of you and put his fist up against it. She reaches for it as you bring her closer to the glass, grabbing out for it as he taps it with a grin, and then she babbles a bunch of nonsense when she’s stopped by the glass, retracting her hand immediately.

You and Mat both laugh and he gives one last tap on the glass to you both before skating off to rejoin warm ups.

He absolutely lights it up that night, but the gifs of the the three of you at the glass during warmups cycle through the internet for days.

-----

8 Months of Maeve: You Like: your favorite blankie, Cheerios, cheese You Dislike: i really tried with those peas, kid

You’d do literally anything for some sleep right now, even just a power nap. Mat had been gone on a road trip for a few days now, due back shortly, but Maeve had been so clingy the entire time he was gone, not even wanting to be held by Molly when she’d stopped in to visit, and fussing anytime you’d walked away from her.

She was playing with a couple of her toys on the floor right now, and it took everything in you to keep your eyes open to watch over her. You contemplated moving her into her bouncer, even as she kept side-eyeing you to make sure you were still close, just in case you accidentally dropped into a nap.

Suddenly, an arm drops over your shoulders and Mat’s pressing a kiss to your temple. “You look sleepy.”

“I’m exhausted.” You lean against him immediately. “When did you get in?”

“Just now.” He squeezes gently, smiling and waving as Maeve, who’s abandoned her toy the moment she saw him, clapping her hands together and beaming at him, babbling at him happily. “She keeping you up at night?”

“She’s just…” You trail off, not sure how to describe what Maeve is right now. Because on one hand, she’s not normally this clingy, and it’s certainly a change of pace. But it’s not a bad thing to have her so close to you all the time, for her to want to be so close to you- you don’t dislike it at all. “I’m just tired.”

He presses another kiss to your forehead, but before he can say anything, Maeve reaches her arms out for him. “Da!” She’s frowning, probably because Mat’s been ignoring her in favor of you. “Dada!” She reaches out again, and this time Mat’s face lights up, both of yours do, as he sweeps her into his lap.

“Say it again!” Mat prompts, tickling her, which of course doesn’t get her to do anything but giggle.

“Dada.” You try, leaning closer, and she repeats it then, but won’t say it again, for all that Mat tries, struggling out of his arms right after that, to go back to playing.

Mat runs his fingers through his hair, looking absolutely floored, and you still haven’t stopped smiling either. Your baby’s first word! You have to tell everyone! But there’ll be time for that later; Mat’s comfy to lean against right now and he doesn’t look like he wants to go anywhere either, so you press a kiss to his cheek and then lie your head back against his shoulder, content to watch Maeve play with her blocks.

-----

9 Months of Maeve: You Like: walking, giving your mom and I heart attacks while walking You Dislike: sitting still for any length of time (stop laughing at me mom)

“You,” Mat sweeps Maeve off her feet and up into his arms as she toddles past him. “Went from walking to running in like two days! Give your mom and I a rest, kiddo.”

“She gets that from you.” You tell him, tiredly. He’s not wrong though. She’d started pulling herself into standing not long ago, and then shortly after, taken her first steps, and then it felt like the next day, she was off to the races. You spent most of your day chasing her around the house now; she almost never wanted to be picked up anymore.

Even now, she was squirming to get out of Mat’s arms and be back on the ground, already starting to whine about it. Mat obliges, and she takes off- or as well as she can; she hasn’t quite mastered it yet, her feet make that distinct slap noise on the floor that you associate with all babies walking.

Mat chases and brings her back, but you two quickly have to settle each on one side of the room, eyes watching Maeve and turning her between the two of you. “She needs a friend.” You mutter, steering her back towards Mat, for what seems like the hundredth time in ten minutes.

Mat nods furiously. “Suddenly I understand why people have more than one of these.”

You burst into laughter, loud enough that it stops Maeve for a second. But only a second; she’s right back to toddling over toward you, throwing herself at you, giggling along with you for a moment there. “One of these?” You call Mat out, and he joins you in laughing, as Maeve uses your arm to pull herself back up and starts walking again.

Mat shrugs it off laughingly. “You know what I mean.”

You do. “God, I used to not even imagine being able to have another one of her, but god, if another one meant they could entertain each other; I’d do it in a heartbeat.”

“I’d have five more if it meant we didn’t have to chase her like this.” Mat pulls Maeve back into the room, a small noise of protest coming from her until he puts her back on the floor.

You give him a look. “You can find someone else to have five more with.”

When Mat smiles at you, it’s softer, not his usual bright beam. “Alright.” He says. “We won’t have five more. Two or three more.” You side-eye him, trying to gauge how serious he is, but he must take your silence for agreement, because then he does beam.

-----

10 Months of Maeve: You Like: patty cake, waving, causing chaos You Dislike: bananas, apparently, even though you loved them last month

“Tito!” You gasp excitedly, only just remembering to pick Maeve up and bring her with you, ignoring her fuss in favor of Mat and Tito walking in the door with something much more exciting. “Why didn’t you tell me you were getting a dog?”

Luckily, she’s easily swayed by the dog, eyeing the wriggling puppy in Tito’s arms. She still doesn’t look like she’s 100% certain about it, but it certainly captures her attention; she stops moving in your arms entirely, blinking at the dog, unmoving.

“Uhhh.” Tito says, in response to you, looking at Mat and then back at you. “Not exactly what happened.”

Mat grins. “So you wanted a dog, right?”

Your jaw drops and the next words are out before you can even think about stopping them. “Shut the fuck up.” And then you immediately wince, because you’ve been on Mat recently about watching his language around Maeve, who’s soaking up words now like an absolute sponge.

But Mat only laughs, reaching to pull the puppy into his arms, and stepping closer to you and Maeve slowly. “Her name’s Blue, but we can change it.”

“Boo!” Maeve repeats, which really ices the cake on that one, and brings a smile to both of your faces. She’s reaching out for the puppy as Mat steps closer, and you prepare yourself for the worst, but Maeve bursts into happy giggles the second her hand touches the puppy.

Blue sniffs her tiny little hand tentatively, and then licks it happy, and Maeve giggles even harder as she does. “I might cry.” You announce. “This is the greatest day. I thought you’d never cave.”

Tito snickers. “He was worried he’d come home one day and you’d brought a stray home.”

“I considered it.”

“Thought this was better.” Mat agrees. “At least I got to screen for a good one.”

“All dogs are good dogs.” You state firmly. “Let’s put her down and let her explore a little.”

“Come on, Menace.” Mat takes Maeve from your arms, who goes happily, reaching for his hair as she does, but you’ve both caught onto the move by now, so he intercepts her hand with his thumb. “Let’s go follow your new best friend.”

-----

11 Months of Maeve: You Like: baby dolls, baby doll stroller, your fancy new cup, Blue You Dislike: puzzles- you’re not really about toys you sit for anymore

“How soon,” Mat starts one night, when you’re getting ready for bed, both child and dog already asleep in crib and crate from an exhausting evening of playtime. “Is too soon, do you think, to bring Maeve out for a skate?”

You’ve got a mouth full of toothpaste, but you think you still manage to convey what you want with a look. “You’re asking me this question?”

“Good point.” You rinse your mouth out and join Mat in bed. “Maybe we’ll start with mini-sticks and a soft ball.”

You burst into laughter. “You think she’s ready for that?”

“Oh she’s got this walking thing down now.” He brushes that off. “My girl’s an expert.”

You roll your eyes. “Yeah, we knew that was coming.”

Mat grins. “Work on that hand eye coordination now.”

You give him a look, trying to decide how serious he is, and then when deciding that he’s absolutely 100% serious, you press a kiss to his shoulder-the nearest spot of him that you can reach. “Please don’t kill our baby.”

Mat’s already scooting in closer to you, already half asleep because this asshole somehow manages to fall asleep like the second his head hits the pillow basically, and he throws an arm over your waist. “Mmm, kay, promise.”

-----

It was a mistake to sit down, you knew that before you even did it, but you’re exhausted from the day. Between spending your morning getting ready for Maeve’s birthday party, playing hostess throughout the afternoon, and then starting the clean-up process, you honestly think you could fall asleep right here against this wall that you’re leaning against.

Your phone buzzes in your pocket and you slip it out-it’s another message from Molly, probably just more pictures that she took throughout the afternoon-but it’s the instagram tag from Mat that really catches your attention.

The app opens to a picture of the two of you standing on either side of Maeve and her smash cake, both wearing happy parent smiles, as her hand brings another fist of icing to an already-covered face. There’s a picture with the three of you standing with his parents and sister; another with Maeve, Tito, Molly, and Brian; and the last one, just you and Maeve, sitting on the floor and her trying to play with the party hat Molly had put on your head, right after you’d fixed the bow on her headband.

1 Year of Maeve: Happy Birthday to our favorite girl! It’s been an entire year with you already and your mom and I can’t wait to see what comes in the next one

You can’t help but smile at both the caption and the pictures, unable to settle on one and still scrolling through the post when you feel Mat sit down next to you. “Somebody’s getting sleepy.”

The same dopey, fond smile is definitely still on your face as you turn to look at Mat and Maeve, who’s curled in his arms in a way she only does now when she’s absolutely exhausted. But she’s fighting it for sure, eyes fluttering shut and then popping back open again. “Big day.” You agree with him. “And it was a nice day. But I’m happy it’s just us now.”

“Yeah.” Mat says, and it almost sounds like his thoughts are completely in another place for a second as he shifts around on the floor for a second. “It was a great day.” It was; it truly was, and even though there’s still a mess to be cleaned, you’re perfectly content to just sit here for a while longer with Mat and Maeve. When he settles, you lean your head against his shoulder, reaching your hand out to rest it on Maeve’s tiny little wrist. “Hey.” Mat says gently.

“Hmm?”

“Marry me?”

“What?” You laugh, until he brings a hand out to you and opens his fist to show off a diamond ring, and then suddenly you’re not laughing at all. “Oh my god.”

“I just-I want a million more days like this with you,” Mat smiles. “I want forever like that. Marry me.”

“Yes.” You breathe. “Yes, god yes, of course.”

And immediately, Mat’s kissing you, or well, trying to, because you’re smiling and kind of crying, and he’s still holding Maeve in his arms, so you both pull away pretty quickly. “I love you. God, I know I don’t tell you that enough, but I do. So much. It-”

“I love you too.” You cut him off. “I really can’t imagine doing this with anyone else.”

Mat beams at you and you reach your left hand out, biting your lip to avoid giggling as he fumbles a little, one-handedly sliding the ring onto it. But he succeeds, and you admire the ring on your finger, as you lean back against Mat’s shoulder.

The silence that follows is comfortable; the only sound the slight wheeze of Maeve’s breathing. “I think she’s finally out.” Mat says quietly, after a moment. “I’ll take her up?”

“Nah.” You clutch at his arm. “Just-let’s just stay here for a while.”

Mat smiles against the side of your head before he kisses it gently. “Okay.” He kisses it again. “But you know you’re stuck with me forever now, right? Not going anywhere.”

You squeeze his arm. “Not stuck.” Mat beams. “Well, I guess I might feel differently in a month or two.”

“Brat.” Mat says fondly.

“Yup.” You grin and then throw his own words right back at him. “But you’re stuck with me forever now.”

“Never stuck.” Mat says, and it sounds like such a promise that you can’t help but lean over and try to kiss him again.

#mat barzal imagine #mat barzal fanfiction #mat barzal fan fic #hockey imagines #hockey fanfic #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagines #my hockey fics #surprises series

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roman-writing · 4 years ago

Text

bring home a haunting (3/12)

Fandom: The Haunting of Bly Manor

Pairing: Dani Clayton/Jamie Taylor

Rating: M

Wordcount: 27,332

Summary: Dani almost has her life together, when a familiar face arrives back in town after ten years. A childhood friends AU written with @youngbloodbuzz

read it below or read it on AO3 here

Where once Dani had imagined scenarios of breathlessly rounding a corner to find Jamie there, only to find an empty space and a sense of something — frustration? anger? relief? feigned indifference? disappointment? — now Jamie would be there. Every time. As though their schedules had aligned, suddenly and without warning. Dani couldn't tell if this was a blessing or a curse. Perhaps a mix of both.

Or — what was it Judy had said? Kismet.

Dani drove up to the gas station and stepped out of the car. Stanley, the local attendant, jogged out to fill up the tank, and Dani thanked him with a smile. It was an overcast Saturday, but she had dinner at the O'Mara household to look forward to later that evening, and Eddie was off in the next town over helping Tommy build a new deck. Leaving Stanley to handle the car, Dani walked into the shop to idly peruse items she had no intention of buying while she waited.

Her fingertips were ghosting over the frames of sunglasses that had been on display for at least seven years, when a truck with faded green paint puttered into the row beside her car. Dani's brow furrowed; she didn't recognize that car, and she recognized all the regular cars in this town. Either someone was passing through, needing a top up on their way to some more worldly destination, or someone new had — oh.

Oh, no. That was Jamie. Jamie was jumping from the high seat, boots hitting the concrete. That was Jamie slamming the door shut and giving Stanley a wave as she made her way into the shop. Before she knew precisely what she was doing, Dani's hand had curled around a pair of large sunglasses and she was sliding them over her face. She angled herself away from the door with the pretense of admiring the glasses in the small smudged mirror perched atop the display rack.

Behind her the bell jingled. The sound of heavy footsteps and the brush of a draught as the door swung shut once more. Dani held her breath, eyes flicking up towards the mirror. She could see the reflection of Jamie's legs angled in the glass. Even when Jamie turned and strode towards the counter, Dani could feel the tension in her own shoulders until she was wound tight as a spring.

There was the slap of the service bell and Jamie's unmistakable voice calling out, "Hunter! I know you're back there! C'mon! I'm trying to give you actual money here!"

The door to the back room swung open, and Dani could hear a sigh. "Jamie," said Hunter, sounding weary. "You couldn't wait five minutes for Stanley?"

"He's busy, and I need oil."

"I just sold you some last week."

"What? Is there a ration enforcement in these parts? Are we still at war with ze Germans? Didn't anyone tell you? That shit's all over, mate."

"I'm not that old."

"Bullshit, you aren't," Jamie said, and even without seeing her face Dani could see the teasing grin that came with her tone. "I've seen those medals you parade around every Veteran's Day."

"Those are for Korea, you dunce."

"Really? Always thought it was for those damn Boers."

"All right. All right. I'll get your damn oil. You happy?" He began to stomp back through the rear door. "How many bottles do you need this time?"

"Make it six," Jamie answered. "Best be safe, yeah?”

Whatever he grumbled in answer, Dani couldn't hear. She kept her shoulders hunched, reaching for another pair of sunglasses — bigger this time — and jammed them atop the bridge of her nose. Through the windows she could see Stanley finish up with her car, replacing the cap, and then move to Jamie's. Clearly he intended to ring them both up at the same time. Made sense, but that didn't stop her from wishing she could slip away without Jamie noticing her presence. Maybe she could just lie and say she left her wallet at home, drive away, and then come back to pay later when the station was decidedly Jamie-free.

Jamie herself had vanished from the little mirror. Dani's ears pricked, and she glanced around as surreptitiously as she dared while maintaining the illusion of shopping. There, at the corner of her vision, she could see the slope of Jamie's profile moving through the only two aisles in the whole place. Dani shuffled around in an attempt to keep her back facing Jamie, rather than turn the display rack. She kept her gaze fixed on the mirror, and tried to remain as quiet and unassuming as possible.

"Don't reckon that pair suits you much."

With a jerk, Dani glanced over her shoulder. Jamie was leaning her elbows on the short aisle dividing the space between them. She had clearly been shuffling through the magazine section, for she held the latest Wonder Woman comic book edition in her hands, along with some other magazine that bore bold red text over a picture of Cher’s face.

"Oh," said Dani. "Hi, Jamie."

Jamie did not answer immediately. Instead, she withdrew and wandered around the aisle to stand beside Dani. She tucked the comic book and magazine under one arm, and lifted a hand to point at various sunglasses in silent judgement. Her lips were pursed in thought. She shook her head, pointed to the next, made a face, pointed to the next, and then finally -

"These," Jamie said, pulling down a pair of pink-rimmed glasses. "Try these."

Clearing her throat, Dani took off the pair she was currently wearing. Jamie had unfolded the pink sunglasses and was holding them out towards Dani for her to put on. Dani ducked her head slightly to let Jamie slip the sunglasses into place.

"Oh, yeah," Jamie said. "Those are the ones."

One hand still occupied with the other pair, Dani reached up to push the ones she wore further up her nose. "Better?"

"Worse. So much worse." Jamie grinned. "You should definitely buy them."

With a snort of laughter, Dani pulled them off and put both sets back on the rack. "Still giving out terrible fashion advice, I see."

Jamie shrugged, the corner of her mouth curled in a grin. "Keeps me honest."

Turning towards the rack, Dani plucked a pair of vibrant chemical green sunglasses with triangular frames, and held them out to Jamie. "I'll buy the pink ones if you buy these."

Without a lick of hesitation, Jamie took the sunglasses and donned them. She looked at herself in the mirror. "Really bring out my striking personality, don't they?"

Dani was biting at her lower lip to keep herself from laughing. "Oh, absolutely. People will see you coming from a mile away now."

"I was thinking I could use them to direct traffic when the grid goes out. Are they glow in the dark?" Jamie pulled them off to check the tag.

Before Dani could answer, the door opened and Stanley entered. He looked over at the two of them. "You're all done, ladies. Who should I ring up first?"

Dani pointed at Jamie, who pointed back at her.

"No, really," insisted Dani. "You should -"

"Nah. I'm still waiting on that oil from Hunter. Go on."

And as if summoned, Hunter reappeared from the back room with a case of oil beneath one arm.

"Didn't just have six bottles lying around," he said, moving behind the till and scanning the box into the system. "Had to scrounge around in storage. Let's go, Taylor. I don’t got all day."

He waved at Jamie to approach, like a king beckoning forth a serf.

"Guess that answers that question, then," Jamie said. She gave Dani an apologetic smile, then strode over to the counter.

When she placed the two magazines and the sunglasses down, Dani blinked in surprise. "You're not honestly buying those, are you?" Dani asked, stepping into line behind her.

Hunter rang up all the items, and Jamie passed over some cash. "'Course I am," she said. "The kid'll love them."

Hunter gave Jamie her change, at which point Jamie stacked the magazines atop the cardboard box of oil and swept them all up beneath her arm. Then, she whipped the garish sunglasses over her nose and ears, said, "Ta," and sauntered out of the service station like she owned the place.

Dani was still staring after her when Hunter asked, "Was there anything else you wanted?"

Dani jolted as if from a daydream. She shook her head. "Uh - no. Thanks, Mr. Thompson. I'll see you at Church tomorrow."

By the time she had paid and walked out to her car, Jamie was gone.

Dani didn’t even have to wait for the end of the day before another run in. No sooner had she stepped into the O'Mara house, than Judy was sighing about having forgotten to pick up onions for dinner. Dani immediately held out her hand for the shopping list, saying, "I'll go. You stay." and Judy gratefully handed it over.

"You're a star," said Judy, pressing a kiss to Dani's cheek and cash into Dani's hand.

"It's no problem," Dani said with a laugh, already heading back towards the front door where her car awaited, parked on the street outside.

Carson trotted after her, intent on coming along to keep Dani company. And also, she suspected, to have free reign over her stereo, where he could blast the latest pop tunes without anyone in the house telling him to keep it down. With a shake of her head and a small smile, Dani drove them down to the supermarket.

It should have been a quick jaunt. Grab what they needed and head back home for dinner. In and out. Completely uneventful.

Dani was bickering with Carson in the produce aisle, when she saw her. Eyes going wide, Dani immediately dropped down to a crouch beside the display of potatoes.

"What are we doing?" Carson whispered loudly as he crouched down beside her. "Did you drop something? Oh, look, I found a quarter."

"That's - uh - That's nice," Dani said, not really paying any attention to him as she lifted her head to peer over the potato display as though peering over the parapets, fearful of incoming gunfire.

Carson did the same, and his eyes lit up. "Hey, is that Jamie? Mom mentioned she was back in town -"

"Shh!" Dani tugged him back down by the back of his leather jacket until the both of them sat on the ground, their backs pressed against a fruit stand.

Carson gave her an odd look. "Okay, this is not what I expected."

"What do you mean?" Dani asked, not really paying him much attention. She dared to peek around the corner, but Jamie must have moved along to a different aisle; she was nowhere in sight.

"Well, for starters, I thought you'd be glad to see her again. Not -" Carson gestured to her with one hand. "- Doing whatever this is."

The tiles were cold beneath her. Dani met his gaze and held it for a moment before turning away once more. "It's complicated."

"Complicated? You two were glued at the hip."

"Yeah, and then she left," Dani said far more sharply than she had intended.

Carson held up both hands in surrender, quarter still stuck between the fingers of his left hand. "Okay. Okay. None of my business, clearly." When she didn't answer him, he said in a low voice, "So, how long are we going to wait here? It's just — I'm hungry. And I am contemplating eating raw spuds at the moment, so -"

"What the hell are you two doing down there?"

And for the second time in less than twenty four hours, Dani nearly jumped out of her skin at the sudden sound of Jamie's voice. She craned her neck to find Jamie leaning over a display of garlic and shallots to stare at them in bewilderment.

Immediately, Carson gave the quarter a flick into the air with his thumb and caught it again. “Found this.”

Jamie’s eyebrows rose and she grinned. “Not bad. And you are -?”

Pushing himself upright, Carson pocketed the quarter and said, “Aw. Don’t recognize me for my devilish good looks? I’m wounded, Jamie.”

For a moment Jamie’s forehead furrowed in bemusement, and then her eyes widened. “Holy shit. Carson? No way.”

He laughed, arms opening for a hug which she stepped into without hesitation. While they were having their happy little reunion, Dani rose to her feet and surreptitiously brushed off the backs of her legs, trying to not appear as out of place as she felt. Jamie and Carson parted with hearty pats on the back and full smiles. Jamie let her hand linger on his shoulder for a moment before lowering her arm.

"Look at you," she said appraisingly. "Christ, but you shot up, didn't you? Still the shortest brother, I see."

"Hey, fuck you," he said but his grin only widened. "I bet you're the shortest of the group now. Hey, Dani! Stand beside her and let's see who's taller."

Hesitant, Dani did as she was told. She and Jamie stood back to back, while Carson measured their heights with the flat of his hand. It was like being back in Judy's house as kids, marking growth spurts in pencil on the wall that Judy refused to repaint as the years dragged on, so that to this day it was littered with marks. Except this time, Dani and Jamie were very careful not to touch. Dani could feel the brush of Jamie's bulky jacket against the back of her arm, and she jerked her hand away immediately.

"Hate to break it to you," Carson said to Jamie, "but you're now officially The Shortest. God rest your soul, Jamie Taylor. I hardly knew ye."

When Dani turned back around it was to find Jamie looking genuinely horrified at this news.

"Come off it!" Jamie said, and she checked Dani's legs. "You're wearing heels, aren't you?"

Shaking her head, Dani lifted one foot to prove that she stood in simple flats, whilst Jamie herself wore thick-soled leather work boots encrusted with mud.

"Fuck me," Jamie muttered, while Carson laughed mockingly at her.

Dani cleared her throat and reached for a pre-packaged bag of white onions from the display. "Hey, Carson, we should -" she said with a jerk of her head towards the exit. "Your mom's waiting for us back home to bring these."

His eyes lit up and he turned to Jamie. "You should come over! You know mom. There's always room for one more at the dinner table."

For a brief terrifying second, Dani thought Jamie was actually going to accept his offer, but Jamie only shook her head. “Nah. I got to get back home to the kid before he burns the place down. Some other time, maybe.”

Jamie gave them each a nod, and then continued on her way, picking up a plastic shopping basket as she went. Dani watched her go, jaw tight. When Jamie had rounded the far aisle and vanished from sight, Dani turned to find that Carson was watching her instead.

“What?” Dani asked, fingers tightening around the netted packaging in her grasp.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

“No,” Dani lied. “It was fine.”

Carson smiled at her, indulgent and gentle, before nudging her. “I wasn’t lying about starving to death, though. Come on.”

Rolling her eyes, Dani followed him to the register to pay.

It was nearly six in the evening when Dani finally tore herself away from her desk at school the next week. She had run out of papers to mark and classes to plan, no matter what she told herself to the contrary. There was always more work to do, but even she could not deny that there was nothing more to be accomplished now. Not when she could hardly concentrate enough to do more than twirl a pen between her fingers and ignore the growling of her own stomach.

She should go home. She should make dinner. She should do the dishes. Hell, she should probably vacuum. And yet here she was, grasping at any straw that might detain her for another five minutes.

With a sigh, she pushed away from the desk and rose to her feet. Packing everything away, she slung her bag over one shoulder and left, stopping to lock up the classroom behind her. The halls of the school were empty. Late afternoon sunlight streamed through the windows and washed the floor in golden tones that warmed her ankles with every step. As she trotted down the stairs leading to the front door of the school — the janitor would lock up everything at seven, she knew — Dani paused.

Mikey Taylor was still seated against the trunk of a tree on the front lawn. His head rose and he waved in a bored manner towards her. Dani lifted her hand in return. She almost took a step in his direction, before with a shake of her head she steered herself away towards where her car was parked in the staff lot.

It wasn't her business, she told herself sternly. How Jamie raised her little brother was Jamie's prerogative. Never mind that Mikey shouldn't be sitting out here alone for nearly three hours, waiting to be picked up. Never mind that the school library closed at four, kicking out any loitering kids. Lips pressed into a narrow line, Dani yanked open her car door and threw her bag into the passenger seat. It wasn't any of her business. Jamie had made that clear enough ten years ago.

Dani shut the door behind her with a little more force than was strictly necessary. The keys jangled as she stuck one into the ignition. One hand on the steering wheel, the other on the key, Dani paused. From here, she could just see Mikey over the dashboard. He had taken to tearing up grass and making a pile on the ground.

Dani firmly ignored him as best she could, and turned the key. Her car sputtered and groaned. She stopped, then turned the key again, only to be faced with the same results.

"Come on," she muttered, gripping the steering wheel tight.

This time when she turned the key, the engine gasped to life, followed by an awful grinding noise. Dark noxious smoke started to eek up from the seams of the hood. Dani groaned and leaned her forehead against the steering wheel, while the car shuddered beneath her seat. She would need to go back inside to ring a towing company and then ring Eddie and ask him to come get her. Doubtless, he would spend the whole ride home complaining about her car and how she should give it up.

Great. Just when she thought this day couldn’t get any worse.

Someone rapped on her window. Dani’s head jerked up. She blinked out the driver’s seat window at the sun-drenched silhouette of Jamie Taylor standing just outside. Dani’s hands flexed against the wheel. She squeezed her eyes shut and breathed in, but then Jamie was tapping at the window again with the back of her knuckles. Opening her eyes, Dani wound down the window.

"Not that I should tell you how to live your life," said Jamie by way of greeting, "but you should really turn off the engine."

Dani twisted the key in the ignition, and the car spluttered and died. The dark smoke that had been threading from the hood was now beginning to fade, though she could still smell something acrid on the air.

Jamie had shifted somewhat so that the sunlight now lanced directly into Dani's eyes. Dani squinted out the window, lifting one hand to shield her brow, and said, "Hi."

"Mind if I have a look?" Jamie asked, gesturing towards the front of the car.

"What?"

"Your engine. Mind if I check?"

"Oh. It's - You really don't have to,” Dani stumbled over the words. “I was just about to run back inside to call a tow -”

“I don’t mind,” said Jamie, briefly glancing at Mikey, who was now sitting in a green truck parked on the street. “Reckon the kid won’t mind either. What’s a few more minutes?”

Finally, Dani gave a relenting nod. "Yeah. Sure. Thanks."

Jamie was already rounding the car to stand before it, her fingers searching beneath the seam of the hood. "Can you pop the bonnet? Should be a lever or summint in there."

Dani scouted around until she found the lever Jamie was speaking of, and the hood popped open with a lurch. She opened the car door and stepped out as Jamie was lifting the hood with a groan of metal on metal and holding it in place with a steel arm latch. The moment she hoisted it up, a cloud of oily smoke bloomed forth, and Jamie waved it away with a cough and a screwed up face.

"Fuck. That's bleedin' awful," Jamie muttered to herself.

Arms wrapped around herself, Dani moved to stand by one of the front tires. "He's been waiting out here for a while," she said, nodding towards the green truck. "I - uh - I tend to keep an eye on him. From the classroom, I mean. I can see the front lawn from my classroom."

"'Fraid there's not much I can do about that," Jamie said, already bending over to poke around in Dani's engine. "I work long shifts at the botanical gardens. Got to make a living somehow."

"Yeah, but - It's a long time, is all I'm saying."

Gingerly, Jamie touched some sort of spout and unscrewed a cap so she could pull out a long narrow stick of metal from the engine. "Yeah? He say anything to you about it?"

"Well, no," Dani admitted.

"Anybody pick on him?"

"No."

Jamie shrugged, still not looking up from where she worked. "If he's that keen to get home earlier then, he can walk. I used to walk further to school everyday. Remember?"

Nodding, Dani sat on the edge of the car, careful not to get any grime on her skirt from the exposed engine. The car had been sitting in the sunlight for so long, she could feel the burn of metal through the fabric of her skirt. "Yeah," she sighed, shifting slightly so that she wasn’t leaning her full weight on the car. "Yeah, I remember."

Silence fell between them. Dani watched idly as Jamie did this and that, wishing she knew anything at all about cars. Jamie's overalls and band shirt were already dirty, the jean material streaked with mud. An errant leaf was stuck to the sole of Jamie's boots, and her hair was tied back from her face with a bandana. Dani chewed at her lower lip, glancing away when Jamie bent over further so that the torn collar of her t-shirt revealed her collarbones and a length of silver chain disappearing beneath the fabric.

"How long's it been like this?" Jamie asked.

"About six months now," said Dani. "I just got it out of the shop a few weeks ago, but nothing seems to stick."

"Well, whoever worked on it last clearly did a shit job if it's still doing this."

Dani bit back a swell of embarrassment. The mechanic had been under the recommendation of Eddie, and it wasn't as though there were many mechanics to choose from in a place like this. Not any that would take her seriously on her own, anyway.

"Trust me," Dani said, "This is an improvement."

"That bad, huh? Can't make any promises that this'll do much, then. Might be able to patch it, if we’re lucky."

"I thought you could fix anything," Dani replied, unable to keep back a small grin, and something like lead dropped in her stomach at the familiarity of the comment.

Jamie paused, eyes flicking up to meet hers, standing frozen for a moment. Dani could feel the smile slide from her face, and Jamie turned her attention back to the engine.

“Would if I could,” Jamie finally said. “But I’m no mechanic. Just a bit of a gearhead in my spare time.”

Wringing her hands together in her lap, Dani said, "Thank you anyways."

"No problem, Poppins."

Hearing that old nickname again was like an electric shock, like a current racing up her spine and buzzing at the nape of her neck. Dani twisted the gold band of the engagement ring around her finger and bit her tongue to keep herself from saying something she would regret.

“Well, now,” Jamie grunted a while later, arm still half-buried in the engine of Dani’s poor car, “There’s one problem, right there. Your rear main seal’s leaking all over the place.”

“And that’s -” Dani said slowly, “- bad?”

Jamie continued poking around, leaned over so far she was standing on her toes now to crane her neck and see past all the bits and bobs Dani couldn’t name if her life depended on it. “It’s not great. I don’t suppose you’ve noticed a trail of oil in your garage or driveway? After you’ve parked, maybe?”

Dani nodded.

Even after receiving confirmation, Jamie stepped back in order to crouch down and look beneath the car. “Yeah, there’s some here, too. Thought as much.”

Dani asked, “How bad are we talking here?”

Straightening with a shrug, Jamie wiped at her cheek with the back of one hand, leaving a streak of oil in its wake. She leaned over the engine for another poke around inside. “Means you’ve been slowly running out of oil since you last took this to the shop. If it were the front main seal, it would be an easy fix, but this -” She hissed and yanked her hand back from the hot metal exterior she’d touched, “- ow! Fuck!” Jamie waved her hand through the air for a few seconds before diving back in. “This is a big job. Got to remove the transmission, the clutch, the fly wheel — you get the picture. Hours and hours of work just to get at a five dollar seal. Nothing I can do about it here.”

“Do I need to call a tow?” Dani asked, already wincing at the bill that was yet to come.

“Nah,” said Jamie, leaning back and standing up straight. She jerked her thumb over her shoulder. “I have some oil in my boot. Should be enough to get you home, but you’ll need to have it looked at sharpish.”

Drawing in a deep breath, Dani nodded. She worried at her lower lip with her teeth. Maybe Eddie was right. Maybe it was just time to sell it. Maybe it wasn’t worth anything but scrap. Maybe -

“Hey.”

Dani jerked her head up.

Jamie had undone the bandana and was now using it to wipe off her hands. Her brows were furrowed, watching Dani with an expression of distant concern, as though afraid to get too close but idling just an arm's length away. Without the bandana, her hair was a mess of fly-aways wisping about her face. Dani had to throttle the urge to reach out and smooth them back. Maybe if it had been a decade ago. But not here, and not now.

Jamie tilted her chin up in a nod towards Dani. "You all right there? Got that look. One that says you're too deep in your own head."

Dani cleared her throat. Her hands itched to move, so she occupied them by running them through her own hair with a sigh of frustration. "Yeah. It's - It's nothing. Really. My car's been having a lot of problems lately, and -" She cut herself off, then laughed ruefully. "It's going to sound stupid, but I just don't have the heart to sell it, you know? So —"

Dani let her hands fall back to her side, but even then they fidgeted; her ragged thumbnails running along each individual pad of her fingertips.

"So," Jamie said slowly. "Buy a new one."

Dani's mouth dropped open, but the words escaped her.

"What? Don't have enough money?" Jamie asked, sounding incredulous. "I know they don't pay you that poorly here. And didn't you just sell your old house?"

"How do you -? How do you know that?"

Jamie gave her a look. "Dani. Please. You think there are secrets? In this town?"

For some reason that simple statement sent a shiver of apprehension down Dani's spine, coiling in her gut like a live snake. She swallowed hard and straightened her shoulders. "I know North Liberty isn't London or anything, but it's not that small."

"If there are more than two thousand people in this place, I'll eat that rear main seal of yours," said Jamie, swatting at the exposed engine with her grimy bandana.

Glaring, Dani huffed and crossed her arms. "It's not the money."

Jamie was winding the bandana round and round the knuckles of one hand. She looked so at ease, leaning against the front of Dani's car, engine oil on her face, one booted foot propped back against the rusty bumper. She could have been a poster. "What's it then?"

Dani lifted her chin. "None of your business."

Jamie blinked, taken aback, eyebrows raised. "Wow." She laughed, but the sound held no real mirth. "Right. Well. Suppose it isn't."

Dani glanced away, arms tightening around her midriff. When Jamie pushed off of the car and began walking away, bandana slung over one shoulder, Dani said, "Where are you going?"

Jamie did not stop. "To get that engine oil."

The little frisson of fear was joined by a curdling guilt and shame. Dani ground her teeth. Her fingers tapped a staccato rhythm against her opposite rib cage, counting seams in bone. There was the banging of a truck door, a scuffling about followed by muffled swearing — ‘Mikey, hand me the - thanks, mate’ — then Jamie was striding back towards her with a squared blue bottle in one hand.

“I’m sorry,” Dani said, when Jamie had come back into earshot.

Already Jamie was shaking her head, not looking in Dani’s direction as she made a beeline towards the car. “What was I going to do?” she asked. “Up and leave you stranded here? For the vultures?” Jamie unscrewed the bottle and gestured with the cap towards the empty suburban street filled with sunlight and white picket fences. “It’s bloody dangerous in these parts, you know. Take my life into my own hands even dropping off the kid every day.”

Unable to help herself, Dani gave a huff of laughter. Jamie still wasn’t looking in her direction, but Dani could see the smirk from the slant of her profile as she began pouring oil in what Dani presumed was the right place. Dani watched. She loitered. She brought her hand up to her mouth, realized what she was doing, and dropped it firmly to her side again. In no time at all, Jamie straightened, screwing everything back into place and lowering the rod that held up the hood of the car so that she could drop that, too, and latch it into place by leaning atop it with one palm. The vehicle dipped over its front wheels, suspension squeaking slightly.

When Jamie turned, Dani held her breath and waited for some kind of backlash.

Jamie patted the hood of the car. “Better take the old girl home, eh?”

Dani nodded. “Yeah. Yeah I will.”

“Wasn’t talking to you,” Jamie said, and her grin was soft. Dani stumbled for a reply, and could form none.

When Jamie made a motion as though she was going to walk back towards her own truck, Dani blurted out, “Thank you.”

Jamie’s footsteps faltered for a split second, but then she was continuing on her way. As she passed Dani, she said, “Good night.”

“Night,” Dani heard herself say as if from miles away.

The drive home for the most part was uneventful; the car creaked and rattled with every sharp turn of the corner, the old air freshener hanging from her rear view mirror swung gently, and the streets were clear from the evening traffic rush. A normal drive, interspersed with the events of the last few days like a broken film reel on loop. Every single expression that crossed Jamie’s face, the things Dani said or could’ve said, the steady confidence in Jamie’s hands as they delved into her car’s engine.

At a stoplight, Dani’s eyes strayed to the ring on her finger, the evening sun making it glitter bright. Her stomach twisted tight, and an eyedropper of uncertainty rippled through her. When the noise in her head became too loud, she flicked on the radio where the station Carson had set still played, the sound of Madonna blaring through her tinny speakers and filling the cabin. She set the volume high, and let it carry her the rest of the way home.

Home, which happened to be a two storey house painted white with dark green shutters and a grey tiled roof, with too neat of a green lawn and a white picket fence. Eddie’s dream house. When he had finalized the deal, he'd picked her up in a rib crushing hug and spun her around, laughing. The day they finally got the keys and moved in, he had insisted on carrying her through the front door and bellowed, “Honey, I’m home!” into the empty house, the sound echoing and loud. She had laughed then, happy to see him so happy. Happy to be a part of that moment with him. Now, as she sat in her idling car in the driveway, staring up at the house, a part of her wished that he'd asked, just once, if she had liked it at all, too.

She shook off the feeling and pressed the remote clipped to the sun visor to open the garage door and park the car inside. She sat there for a moment, listening to the radio play when the thought suddenly occurred to her — wondering if Jamie still listened to that same jarring music she used to adore. The same kind of music she would play on the boombox shared between the boys, laughing as Eddie and David winced at the aggressive sounds while Carson and Tommy nodded along. Dani particularly didn’t feel one way or the other, merely enjoyed how much fun they seemed to have.

She cut the engine, leaving her in silence. She stepped out of the car and entered the house, debating with herself the entire way. Eddie wasn’t home yet, the house somehow emptier and colder without him there as a buffer to the long shadows cast against the walls and floors from the evening sun. There was a wariness to her entry, being alone in a house that seemed to have a will of its own, like being locked in a room with a voiceless stranger, trying to get to know one another and utterly failing. Dani set down her car keys and purse with an apologetic wince at the clatter of metal against tile. Shaking herself of the feeling that she was being watched, she went in search of Jamie's old mixtape.

She’d have to go looking for Eddie’s walkman as well, having no idea where he had placed it last. Maybe she could ask him when he came home. The thought made her pause, mid-way through shedding her heels and blazer, acid building in her stomach just at the idea of explaining why she suddenly needed to listen to a tape a decade old. She rubbed the bridge of her nose, cursing under her breath before delving deeper in the house to press play on the answering machine as she went through her evening routine instead.

The crackling sound of tinny voices accompanied her throughout the house like absent ghosts. Dani only vaguely paid attention to the words: messages from Eddie’s friends with plans for dinner parties and dates, Judy reminding them of forgotten tupperware, a tipsy Carson trying to convince them to come to his next show as music blared in the background, Eddie’s coworker reminding him of important dates, Eddie —

“Hey, sweetheart,” Eddie’s voice echoed through the house, thin and staticky from the machine, “I know you’ll be home before me today, so I just wanted to let you know not to get started on dinner tonight. I’ll be bringing home something. I have some great news. Love you, see you soon.”

And then the house dropped silent once again. Dani sighed, already midway through preparing leftovers from Judy. It was like a sign, a ticking clock counting down ominously, compelling her to abandon the leftovers back in the fridge and leading her towards the corner of the house where she had temporarily placed the simple wooden box without any idea of where else to put it. The idea of hiding it in the closet she shared with Eddie left her skin crawling; it had no place there, not where she already shared so much of herself with him. The attic or basement didn’t feel right either, like she was tucking away those memories, like something to be abandoned. Instead, she had placed it where other stacks of boxes were piled, unopened and forgotten, in a corner in the dining room. A place she knew Eddie hadn’t bothered to touch for weeks, too busy setting up the other vast rooms of the house.

She twisted her hands as she was lured towards it — like a shining bright beacon, like a lighthouse on storm-battered shores — but when she turned into the dining room, she slowed, her heart plummeting to her stomach. The corner was empty. Void of any labeled cardboard boxes. Her brows furrowed as she stepped towards the corner, a cold sweat sweeping over her skin.

“Shit,” Dani muttered, her heart crashing against her ribs, her hands clenched into fists.

She spun around on her heels, searching every corner of the room, scattered with an assortment of their shared belongings along the walls and around the long dining table. She rummaged through it all, her hands trembling, panic rising in her throat like bile.

“Shit,” she repeated, when she came up empty, her breathing heavy.

She ran through the logical possibilities, her mind racing. Eddie decided to finally tackle the dining room. Eddie packed away the contents of the cardboard boxes. Eddie found her box. Eddie opened it to glean its contents. Eddie threw it away.

No. No, he wouldn’t do that. For all his own feelings regarding Jamie, she knew he wouldn’t do that. Wouldn’t crack open and toss away the beating heart of Dani’s memories, like it was something foul and rotten. At least, that’s what she tried to tell herself, as she tore through the rest of the house, repeating it in her mind like a mantra — he wouldn’t, he wouldn’t — her breath coming in faster and her eyes burning as she came up empty at every turn.

It was like the house had eaten it, swallowed it whole. Hungry in its desire to consume anything that didn’t belong. That didn’t fit in.

After fifteen minutes of searching, her eyes wild and her throat thick, she stood in the middle of the living room. A pressure formed in her chest, slow but familiar as with every shallow breath she took, along came a dull burn that spread across her chest. Dani pressed a hand hard to her breastbone, willing away the pain as her heart pounded against her palm. Dani hadn’t had an asthma attack in years. She couldn't remember the last time she even had one, always so diligent and careful. And of course, it had to be over this of all things.

The front door clicked open. Dread pooled in her stomach at the sound of Eddie shuffling in. “Hey, I’m home!” he called.

Dani couldn’t find the words to respond, her breath coming in too fast, too sharp. Every struggling breath pained.

“Danielle?” Eddie called again when she didn’t respond, and then, “Danielle!” Heavy hands fell on her shoulders, and then her cheeks. “Hey, are you okay? What’s going on? Open your eyes."

Dani hadn’t realized she closed them. She flickered them open to meet Eddie’s concerned face. “Inhaler,” she finally managed to gasp, wheezing.

He nodded, spinning around to locate her bag, digging through it and pulling out the small blue device before returning to her. He watched silently with a deep frown and thinned mouth as she inhaled her two doses, letting her breathe it in for a moment.

“Are you okay now?” he asked softly.

She was still breathing heavily, her hands trembling around the blue device, but the low embers in her chest slowly ebbed away. The pressure that had formed a tight knot began to loosen. It was slow going, but the rescue inhaler did its job. Dani pressed a hand back to her chest and nodded, not meeting Eddie’s eyes. His shoulders visibly dropped, sighing and pulling her in towards his chest in a hug.

“Jesus,” he muttered, “You scared me.” Dani pressed her eyes closed, unable to compel herself to wrap her arms around him. “That hasn’t happened in a long time. What happened?”

Her chest ached. Slowly, she pulled away from him, her trembling hands against his chest. “My things, Eddie,” she murmured, swallowing hard against the tremor in her voice, and finally looked up to meet his frown, “Where are my things?”

His frown deepened. “What things?”

“My box.”

Eddie’s eyes flickered between hers, bewildered. “I’m...what box?” Exhaling sharply, Dani took another step back and rubbed hard at her eyes. “I really don’t know what box you're talking about.”

“In the dining room, Eddie. It - it was a plain box.”

He stared blankly at her, blinking. “There were a lot of boxes in there,” he said slowly, as though patiently explaining to his nephew why dinosaurs didn’t exist anymore.

Her breath started coming in fast again. “It was a wooden box with a bronze latch,” she said, desperately willing him to remember. He nudged up his glasses, his frown deepening in puzzlement and concern, visibly thinking hard. “Eddie…” she breathed, fighting back the burn in her eyes.

A light bulb seemed to switch on in his head, his eyes going wide. “Oh!” He snapped his fingers, his mouth pulling into a smile. “Okay, yeah, hold on — just stay there.”

He abruptly disappeared deeper into the house, leaving Dani alone. She breathed slowly, rubbing at her eyes again to vanish any unfallen tears before wrapping her arms around her stomach, listening to Eddie’s footsteps vibrating through the house, down and then back up some stairs. He returned with a triumphant grin, and the sigh of relief that escaped Dani at the sight of her box in Eddie’s hands seemed to make her lungs rattle. She took the box in her grasp and pressed it close to her chest, as if she could tuck it under her ribs. Dani sniffed as she looked down at it, and slowly exhaled.

“Thanks,” she murmured, like she hadn’t just spent the last half hour spiraling.

Eddie’s grin slowly fell, chagrin replacing his triumph. “I’m sorry,” he said, burying his hands in his grey pantsuit, “I didn’t know what to do with it, or where to put it. So I put it in the basement.”

Dani nodded absently. The basement. Right. Nine feet below the earth, like a coffin.

“I really am sorry,” he repeated, softer this time, a hand falling to her waist.

“I know,” she said, and finally met his eyes, giving him a weak smile. “It’s okay.”

He grinned, warm, and said, “I do have good news, though, to make up for it.”

“Yeah?”

Eddie nodded, gestured behind him, and said, “I got us some dinner too.” Dani glanced over his shoulder where on the side table next to her bag sat a box of pizza and a bottle of wine. Eddie’s hand moved from her waist to her upper arm, gently rubbing it. “Why don’t you put that away, and I’ll tell you all about it over dinner.”

At Dani’s silent nod, he pressed a kiss to her forehead and bounded towards the kitchen with the pizza and wine in hand, but not without another grin. She barely managed to send one back, her mouth twitching at the attempt. She returned her eyes back to the box in her arms, the weight of it suddenly heavier as the exhaustion from her episode finally hit her. Dani didn’t know what to do with it now. There was no other place in the entire house she trusted. Not even her old childhood bedroom; the risk of it falling into her mother’s hands was out of the question. The glove compartment of her car wasn’t totally ideal, but she didn’t like the idea of leaving it on the backseat floor or shoving it away deep in the trunk. It would have to do for now.

Dani returned to the kitchen where Eddie had shed his suit jacket and tie, his sleeves rolled up as he set the kitchen table with plates and wine glasses. He grinned at her. “Here we go," he said, opening the pizza box with a flourish to reveal a Hawaiian pizza.

She hesitated for a moment. At the risk of disappointing him with the reminder that a simple veggie pizza was her favorite and that the very notion of pineapple on pizza was an affront to the senses, she offered him a weak grin. "Thanks." She cocked her head at the table, and asked, “What’s the occasion?”

Eddie’s grin widened. “I may have gotten a little raise.”

“What?” Dani's face relaxed into a smile. “But didn’t you just recently start?”

“Yeah, I know! But they’ve apparently been really liking what I’ve been doing, and —” he paused, seemingly for dramatic effect as his eyes glinted “ — I got an in with Councilman Alan Fields.”

Dani’s eyes widened. “Eddie, that’s amazing,” she said, grasping his arm.

“I know it’s not much for now and I still have a long way to go yet, but — “

“It’s a start,” Dani finished for him, cupping his chin. “I’m proud of you. I think this does call for some wine.”

He grinned bashfully as she dropped her hand and started towards the counter, pulling at a stubborn drawer to retrieve a corkscrew as Eddie began piling their plates with pizza. “It is a start, isn’t it. Felt like a long time coming too,” he said from behind her, as Dani huffed at the drawer, jiggling it by the handle, “And step one is dinner with Fields and his wife.”

The handle popped off at a strong tug. She blinked down at it, and then, as if now absorbing what Eddie said, she looked back at him, bewildered. “Dinner?”

“Yep, seven o’clock on Friday.”

Dani blinked at him, her stomach turning sour. “The both of us?”

“Yes,” he said, chuckling, his grin indulgent. “We have to start impressing Fields somehow. He has influence all over town, and if I get him on my side then — “ his grin turned smug “ — You may be looking at a future city councilman.”

Dani chuckled breathlessly, her cheeks aching. “That’s great,” she managed to say.

She didn’t want to ruin this moment, not when it seemed like all of Eddie’s dreams were coming true, handed to him on a silver platter. Dani could see it happening now; she knew that on Friday, she would push down all her exhaustion from a week of teaching, and herding around twelve year olds, and the pulse of anxiety under her skin. She would put on her best dress and style her hair flawlessly, but just enough to seem modest, and play the part of the perfect golden girl turned perfect fiancée. Dani would smile too much and not enough, and Eddie would hold her hand for all the world to see the ring on her finger as if to say, “Here, world. Here we are, the golden couple.” She felt a chill settle over her skin just thinking about it, and wished desperately to feel anything else, wished that Eddie had just asked her instead of —

“What happened there?” Eddie’s eyes darted towards her hand, his brow furrowing, gesturing towards the drawer handle she held in a tight fist.

“Oh, um,” she chuckled again, helplessly holding up the handle for him to see, “It broke.”

He snorted. “Make that one more thing for the repair list," he said, and let out a long sigh. A hand at the base of her spine and he gently guided Dani to the table to sit as he took care of it.

That should’ve been the end of it, the end of the conversation as wine was finally poured and the kitchen radio switched on low as they sat down to eat. She hoped for it — to be given the space to breathe in between sips of wine and let her shoulders sink against the back of her chair, letting her frustrations and the exhaustion from her day to just sink away. Just for a little bit, just long enough for her to let her mask slip until she had to once again pull on the ropes to part the stage curtains open. But Eddie insisted on clinking their glasses together, a curious glint in his eyes as he sipped from his wine.

“I was thinking,” he started, setting his glass down. A ball of lead sank in Dani’s stomach.

“Yeah?” She took another heady sip.

“With just a little more money coming in, we could finally afford to start fixing up the place. Like, actually fixing it,” he said, leaning forward on the table, “And just with everything seeming to come together, you could take the lead on it.”

“What do you mean?”

“Didn’t you say you wanted more time for some hobbies? This is a great opportunity to start. Add a splash of color to the place.”

Dani blinked at him. There wasn’t something right, with the way he was looking at her so expectantly, so pleased with himself. “I don’t have the time for that, Eddie,” she reiterated.

“Well, obviously,” he said, grinning boyishly, “Not until after you stop working at least.”

Dani stared, her breath shallow, her nails digging into her palms in her lap. Remnants of the indignant fire from earlier, the rush of panic, swelled within her. “I’m not quitting my job, Eddie,” she said, her back ramrod straight.

He frowned. “Wasn’t that part of the plan?”

“No.”

Eddie leaned back, his expression puzzled, and said, “Oh, I thought we agreed — “

“We didn’t,” she said with more bite than she expected. More than Eddie expected. His eyes went slightly wide, and he at least had the decency to look abashed, pushing his glasses up his nose.

“I’m sorry,” he said, “I just thought — the other day you were saying you weren’t looking forward to the parent-teacher conference. I thought it could be good for you, good for us. Especially when — ”

“Dealing with parents is one thing. Kids are another,” she said, the fire quickly leaving her. She sighed. “I love my job. I love my kids. I love how I’m able to help shape their minds and their futures. I don’t want to give that up.”

Not for anything, she didn't say out loud, Not even you.

Leaning his elbows back on the table, Eddie smiled slowly at her, and nodded. “Okay,” he said. A look crossed his face, something between hopeful and knowing. It did nothing to help the whirlpool of dread twisting Dani’s stomach, making her feel sick. “Maybe in the future. Just think about it?”

Dani could do nothing but stare at him. It was like what she said went into one ear and out the other, like it was already written in stone. The next step in fulfilling his dreams, and Dani was just along for the ride, molded and shaped to his expectations. Dani often wondered how strange it was to care for someone so much who loved merely a shadow of her.

Dani took another sip of her wine, her gaze fixed on her mostly untouched pizza, appetite gone. She should stand her ground, dig her heels in. Set the record straight. Instead, she reset her mask, pulled the rope to part the stage curtains, and tied the other end around her neck. She nodded.

His face brightened into a smile. Seemingly pleased with the outcome of his wishes coming true, he returned to his pizza. Dani followed suit, forcing down the food, feeling like she could choke on it.

“In other good news,” Eddie said around bites, his expression vaguely curious, “Did you hear who moved back into town recently?”

“I did,” she said, nodding, not meeting his eyes. “Your mom mention it?”

“Yeah. You must be happy about that.”

Dani didn’t know how to respond to that. Not with the way her skin felt jittery at even the thought of being in the same room as Jamie, and certainly not with the tension just barely underlying Eddie’s voice. Her eyes darted up, catching him staring at her with an expression that to anyone else would seem as passing curiosity, but to Dani, was careful scrutiny. A part of her couldn’t truly fault him for it, after all he had borne witness to the aftermath of it all. But the other part of Dani, the part that never knew how to stop missing Jamie, tensed her shoulders and clenched her teeth, nodding as her eyes darted away and she sipped her wine.

“I am,” she said, the words surprisingly feeling almost true. “I saw her earlier today, actually. At the school.”

He frowned. “At school?”

“Mikey’s one of my students,” she said. Eddie blinked at her, his expression mystified. “Jamie’s little brother?”

“Oh,” he said, and chuckled. “Wow. Time flies, huh? Still remember him when he was just a baby. Is he anything like how Jamie was? Causing any trouble?”

Dani tensed. “Jamie was a good kid.”

Eddie gave her a look. “Really?”

She fought back a frown, exhaustion settling deeper into her bones. “Anyway, Mikey’s a good kid,” she continued, “Really smart. Quiet. Shy.”

“Is that even possible? A shy Taylor?”

Dani shot him a glare. He backed down with a chuckle and his hands raised. “All right, I’ll take your word for it.”

It was a little easier, after that. Less like the walls of the kitchen were closing in on her, and more like she could finally breathe as Eddie moved on from conversation topics that left her feeling like she wanted to crawl out of her own skin. They talked about their work day instead; how Eddie came to meet Alan Fields, one of the more prominent councilmen in town, and Dani offered anecdotes of her own, the funny things kids said, and how good they’d been. She didn’t mention the car. Not yet. She briefly entertained the idea that she could somehow sneak the car over to the mechanic without Eddie knowing, but realized she wouldn’t know how to explain away the hundreds of dollars missing from the bank, spent on repairing it.

Dinner flew by fast. Dani washed down the rest of her pizza with another glass of wine. She even managed to laugh with Eddie when she hiccuped after the last sip. He grinned fondly at her, as she gathered their dishes and brought them to the sink to clean them. With her hands sudsy, the two glasses of wine had loosened her shoulders just enough to relax and sway to the radio, set to some oldies station. It took her a moment, as she rinsed a plate while listening to a smooth voice croon, to remember her plight from earlier. The sheer fear and desperation, looking for her box of Jamie’s things. The reason why she went searching in the first place. Just as Dani felt her face fall, hands wrapped around her waist.

“Leave that,” Eddie said, pressing his temple against her own, his body enveloping her from behind.

She swallowed hard, managing to refrain from tensing in his arms. “They’re not going to clean themselves,” she said, proud at how steady she kept her voice.

Eddie began to sway them both along to the music, and said, “They can be done in the morning.” He pressed a telling kiss just below her ear.

Dani shivered, but for all the wrong reasons. She felt Eddie grin against her skin, chuckling. Distantly, Dani wondered if he could also hear her heart pounding, the blood rushing through her ears. The way her body wanted to curl away from him and up into herself. If she were to glance down at the silver tap, she’d see their distorted forms, pulled in all the wrong directions as they gently swayed.

“Eddie…” she stumbled out.

“Come on, leave it,” he insisted, pressing another kiss to her shoulder, “I know I upset you today. I want to make it up to you.”

She could say no, like she’d done before. Citing exhaustion, sleepiness, a headache. She could say she felt like she was slowly being digested within these walls, until inevitably, all that would remain would be the shadow Eddie so loved.

Would he still love her then? When all that would be left of her to hold would be a shell, a ghost of a person? Would he care? Would Jamie?

The thought was so abrupt and cutting, Dani pressed her eyes shut and bit hard at her lip, her hands stilling under the running water as a dull ache spread across her chest.

Clenching her teeth painfully, and feeling the skin of her cheeks flush in a fit of indignation, Dani swept the thought away. His arms were warm around her, safe and strong as they’d always been. He still smelt of the same sharp cologne she had gifted him last year. She could want this, she thought faintly. This could be her, if she just tucked away everything else. The perfect loving wife. The girl next door turned childhood best friend turned childhood sweetheart. She wanted this, didn’t she? All those years ago, heartbroken and hollowed out, when she finally said yes, and then never stopped.

Somehow, it didn’t burst out of her. Not when Eddie pressed another soft kiss to the crook of her neck. Not when she turned off the tap and spun in his arms to rake her wet hands through his hair, smiling weakly into a kiss.

Dani could want this. She could be this.

The arm slung across her waist felt like an anvil. Holding her down into the too soft sheets and bedding until it felt like she was sinking right into it. There was a heaviness to Dani’s body that she couldn’t shake. She hadn’t moved in over an hour. An hour and thirty seven minutes to be exact. She knew. She counted, her eyes unmoving from her bedside alarm clock as she lay on her back, slowly coming back to her body, still as stone, watching the red numbers flicker minute by minute until it read 12:03am.

The arm moved, shifting. Dani held her breath as she felt the bed gently shake from the twisting movements next to her. And then it pulled away, the arm lifting from her waist to disappear into the darkness next to her like a phantom. She exhaled slowly, and swallowed hard past the thickness in her throat.

Dani blinked. 12:04am.

Slowly, she finally turned away from the alarm clock, her neck screaming at her from holding the position for so long. She winced and slowly sat up, holding the sheets up to her chest. The air was cold against the skin of her back, sending a shiver down her spine. Dani welcomed it, pulling her knees up to her chest and resting her forehead on them, her body feeling overheated as if a fever was expelling some sickness from her.

The bed shifted again along with the sound of a soft sigh. Dani raised her head at the motion and finally turned her gaze to the sleeping form on her left where Eddie lay flat on his stomach, his head twisted away from her, his torso rising and falling so slowly she’d almost think he wasn’t breathing at all. Dani knew, if there was any more light in the room beyond the fair trails of moonlight, she would find a star map of beauty marks across his skin. Any other person, any other woman who deeply loved their fiancé would slide closer, pressing the length of their worn and satisfied body next to Eddie’s and would trace those star maps with the tip of their finger. Instead, Dani stared at him, drained and heavy.

He always slept so deeply after, like all the weight of his love and desire condensed into a single point, taking and taking from her, until he was full and sated, collapsing half on top of her. He’d lay there as his breaths would eventually even out and deepen, slowly pulling away, so sure, so confident that Dani felt the same. There were some occasions Dani could force herself to, taking it for herself in a way that always left him surprised, wanting so much to morph herself into this mask that she’d almost convince herself at the height of it. But, it was an occurrence that was rarer than being struck by lightning, and she’d always feel so empty afterwards. And then there were nights like this — grateful to the dark shadows to conceal her. Grateful that he never looked her in the eye and asked.

Dani finally pulled away from the bed, silently leaving the too warm sheets, shivering in the dark. She quickly pulled on nearby clothes — a nightgown and a thin robe — and quietly made her way out of the room, stepping over loose floorboards. She made her way downstairs, her fingers skimming the walls to guide her way in the dark, listening to the house creak and groan, settling like a weary creature. She padded her way through to the kitchen, the floor cool beneath her feet, making a beeline to where they left the bottle of wine on the counter.

Grabbing the bottle in a white-knuckled fist, pulling out the cork and taking a long swig. The house maneuvered her through the shadows, stumbling lightly in the dark, and all Dani could do was watch her own actions, divorced from her own perspective. Watch as she retrieved her keys from the side table and made her way to the garage, generously sipping at wine. When there was nothing left in the bottle, she left it on the floor near the garage entrance to open the passenger door of her car and fall heavily inside, closing it shut just a little too hard in the overbearing silence of the night.

It was cold, but comforting inside. The air felt different in the cabin. Thinner, dustier, lived in and familiar. For a moment, she rested her head against the headrest and let her eyes slip shut, enjoying the cold and the quiet. She opened her eyes and with a sigh, she reached over to open the glove compartment, carefully pulling out the wooden box to rest on the passenger seat.

Slowly lifting it open, she stared at the contents inside, worrying her lower lip with her teeth. The fear she had felt earlier today had left its residue on her, like chalk dust. It pressed hard against her chest and behind her eyes until they burned as she skimmed her hands over the faded t-shirt. Expelling a trembling exhale, Dani carefully dug through the contents until she unearthed the cassette tape and turned it over in her lap. It appeared physically undamaged, though nothing could be said to what dust and age had done to it over time. Dani didn’t even remember what songs Jamie had cultivated for her, just the distant memory of side A being songs she chose to Dani’s tastes, and side B being more to her own.

There was only one way to listen to it now. Even with Dani’s confidence of Eddie’s deep slumber and the thickness of the walls of the house, there was still a part of her anxious of the thought of Eddie waking up to find her delving through childhood memories as if shamefully flipping through a dirty magazine. Or worse, thinking she was running away in the dead of night.

The thought made her pause. It’d be so simple. To just pack a bag, and take off, speeding her way out of town and leaving everything behind to see the world like any small town youth dreamed of doing. It sounded so easy, and so astronomically unthinkable.

Shaking it off, Dani tensed her shoulders and twisted the engine on, revving it to life. It shuddered and groaned, but remained on with no tell-tale sign of smoke or questionable smells. Dani exhaled slowly, and fiddled with the tape again before finally pushing it in the player and pressed rewind for good measure. She listened to it wind up and finally click to a stop, the sound unusually loud in the silent cabin, ominous and thrilling.

She swallowed hard and licked her lips, pressing play.

The sound of layered voices in harmony with sparse melodious instruments filled the cabin, tinny and crackling through the old stereo and the age of the tape. Her mouth dropped open, her breath trapped in her chest. Gradually, Dani sank back into the seat as a voice joined in, a shiver creeping down her spine. Dani couldn’t count the years she hadn’t heard this song, it almost felt like hearing it all over again for the first time, the memory of it crashing into her like a wave.

Dani curled up on herself, twisting just enough in the seat to pull her knees to her chest and wrap her arms around her legs, a thickness growing in her throat, the pressure building behind her eyes. She bit her lip hard to fight it off, desperately willing it away — the pain borne of being stripped away down to that old exposed nerve. Prodded at and scarred. A wound opened and healed over so many times, it was a wonder Dani remained so recognizable.

But even as the first song ended and a familiar sparse guitar filled the car, the pain of her teeth pressed against her lip and her nails digging into her palm couldn’t stop the tears spilling down her cheeks. Dani trembled as she exhaled deeply, her breath wobbling, curling further into the seat and resting her head against the crackling leather.

Five more minutes, she told herself. Five more minutes, and then she’d seal it all away again. She had managed to live with everything else now for years, she could manage another couple more. Dani had grown used to it. Tucking away the memories and the tears, the lost pieces — all for something that didn’t exist anymore.

Parent teacher conferences certainly weren't the highlight of Dani's school year. She was good with kids. Not parents. Especially not parents who she grew up with, and who she remembered from when they attended this very same school together. Some of them had grown up a bit since then, but only some. Most still interacted with her as if talking to a cardboard cut out person, all plastic smiles and tacit social acceptance that they would never speak of times past.

It was rare that anyone new came to live in town at all. Not unless they used North Liberty as a sleeper suburb for the factory plant a good hour drive southeast. Most people who lived here did so all their lives. Just like their parents had. And their parents before them. And even those who tried to venture away somehow found themselves wending back. Like a labyrinth with no exits. Like a glue trap that held one fast by the ankles.

Dani was using the edge of a pen to scrape away some glue that one of her students had gotten onto their desk during the day. The dried glue came away in gouges. She could have left it for the janitor, but he had enough on his plate and she had time before the next set of parents walked into her classroom.

Honestly, this was the last time she allowed glue in class. It would join glitter on the 'banned for life' list.

There was a polite rap of knuckles on the open door behind her.

Without looking up, Dani said, "Come in!" and gave the glob of glue a few last scrapes with the pen before giving up and turning around with a sigh. "Sorry about that, I was just -"

She froze. Jamie was leaning in the doorway, arms crossed, watching silently. She still wore her work clothes, but she had left her jacket behind, and the sleeves of her jumpsuit were rolled up so that the definition of her bare arms was stark against the canvas material.

"I - uh -" Dani used the pen to gesture weakly towards the student's desk. "There was a glue disaster."

Jamie tilted her head and said, "Acetone."

Dani blinked. "What?"

"You should use acetone," said Jamie. "Take it right off. No elbow grease required."

"Oh. Right. And I'd - I'd get that where?"

In answer, Jamie pushed herself away from the door frame and made her way through the maze of desks until she stood before her. Dani watched her approach with some alarm, not knowing what was coming. And to think she used to know Jamie so well she could tell what she was thinking just from the barest crease of her eyes.

Jamie stopped and made a small gesture with her hand. "Let me see your fingers."

Completely befuddled, Dani set down the pen and lifted both hands for inspection. Jamie cocked her head and nodded as though that confirmed everything.

"Looks like you've got the solution at home already," Jamie said, meeting her gaze with a soft smile. "Nail polish remover. I'm talking about nail polish remover."

Dani glanced down at her hands. She normally didn't bother painting her nails; it was only a matter of time until she chewed them to bits again. Yesterday evening however she had idly applied a few coats of polish to her nails while sitting with Eddie on the couch, the television screen flickering and sending shadows dancing along the walls.

Curling her fingers against her palms, Dani made a stiff gesture towards her own desk at the head of the classroom. "Of course. Thanks. Shall we -?"

Jamie went without further comment. She had slouched in the chair opposite Dani's desk while Dani lowered herself carefully into her own seat.

"Right. So," said Jamie, her leg bouncing restlessly. "Never done one of these before. What're we talking about exactly?"

Dani pulled a file towards her from across the desk. "We're here to talk about Mikey. His progress. How he's doing. Et cetera."

Jamie nodded. Her gaze roved across the classroom, wandering here and there. She lingered upon the various fixtures of the room in bored contemplation. "You reckon he's settling in all right?"

Dani shrugged. "Better than you did."

A rueful grin was Jamie's reply. "Well, that's not very hard, is it?"

Dani smiled back at her. "No." She opened the folder and quickly flipped through a few pages. "There haven't been any incidents that stand out to me so far. Regarding him fitting in, I mean. Nobody's picked on him or anything, is what I'm saying."

Jamie nodded. "Glad to hear it."

"He's a good kid," Dani said.

"Smarter than I'll ever be."

"Now, I didn't say that."

"True though," Jamie said with self-deprecating flair. “What about his grades?"

Dani plucked at the corner of a page, lifting it up so she could see the paper beneath. "Exemplary, to be honest. His class participation is a bit lacking, but otherwise he's gotten nothing but top marks so far."

"Need me to talk to him about speaking up more in class?"

Dani shook her head and let the page fall back down. "No. Not really. I think that will come in time as he grows more comfortable."

"Right." Jamie was looking directly at her now, and Dani almost wished she would go back to studying the room's contents instead. "Anything else?"

It was difficult not to fidget beneath the weight of Jamie's gaze. Dani found herself shuffling a few of the papers nervously, and forced her hands to go still. "There is one thing, actually," Dani said.

Jamie arched an eyebrow. "Oh?" she said warily.

"It's not - It's not like that," said Dani and she leaned forward in her seat, resting her weight upon her forearms. "I was actually wanting to talk to you about the possibility of Mikey attending some special math courses."

Jamie's brow furrowed. "Why? I thought you just said his grades were fine? Top marks, even."

"No, I'm -" Dani cleared her throat to collect herself somewhat before continuing. "I'm talking about advanced courses. He seems to like math. A lot, actually. And I'd like to encourage that, rather than risk him becoming bored with things he's already mastered."

If anything, Jamie seemed taken aback by this news, sitting upright. "Will that be a lot more work for him?" she asked slowly.

Dani shook her head. "The class is after school. Held in the library for an extra hour. But I won't be giving him homework for regular math, so it should all come out in the wash."

"Huh." Jamie blinked and sat back further in her seat. "All right, then. I'll have a chat with him tonight. See what he thinks."

"Great," Dani said, and her own smile felt plasticky this time.

"If he doesn't want to do it, I won't force him," said Jamie.

"That's okay. He doesn't have to, if he doesn't want to."

"All right."

Silence settled over them. Dani was staring, fingers tracing the sharp edge of the folder, while Jamie waited.

"That it?" Jamie asked after the seconds had ticked by with neither of them speaking.

Startled by the abruptness of her voice, Dani closed the folder. "Yeah. Yeah, that's - that's it!"

Jamie gave her an odd look, clearly waiting for her to say something, but Dani's mouth was dry, and she had another set of parents coming in fifteen minutes, and she hadn't expected this to go so fast, and -

"Guess I'll be off, then." Jamie stood and jammed her hands into the pockets of her jumpsuit, while Dani pushed back her own chair to rise to her feet as well.

"Of course. Have a -" Dani gestured awkwardly towards the exit. "Have a good rest of your day."

“See you around.”

Jamie was at the door before Dani finally worked up the courage to blurt out, “Do you -? Do you want to grab a coffee sometime? With me?”

Jamie paused and turned in the doorway. "You Yanks and your coffee." Jamie shook her head but she was smiling. "Sure, but I work everyday except Sunday."

"That's fine,” Dani said, hand on the desk as if to ground herself. “We can meet Sunday morning?"

"Don't you have church?"

"They'll be fine without me for one service. Besides, I -” Dani said, “- I want to catch up.”

Jamie’s smile flickered briefly, and when it returned she appeared reserved, as though she had taken a step further away. In the end all she said was, “Sounds like a plan. Ten?”

Dani nodded. “Ten’s great.”

With one final backward glance, Jamie left. It was as though all the air rushed back into the room in her absence. As though Dani could finally breathe properly again. She dropped back down into her seat, which creaked beneath her weight, feeling dazed, a faint buzzing beneath her skin.

Footsteps down the hall, and Dani’s head jerked. “Oh! You’re early!” she said, rising to her feet and extending her hand to the latest set of parents. All plastic smiles again and false pleasantries. “Horace. Clara. How nice to see you. Please, sit.”

Dani arrived at the cafe late. She had parked her car further along down a side lane in town while running a quick errand at the local pharmacy. The car had been acting up on the drive in and she didn't want to risk it breaking down again along the way. So, she turned over her wrist to check her watch, and walked as briskly as she could without outright jogging. By the time she arrived at the cafe, she was slightly out of breath and raking her fingers through her hair to fix how windswept she felt.

She paused at the entrance to drop a hand into her bag just to check that she still had her emergency inhaler. When she had assured herself that it was there, she pushed open the door and stepped inside.

The cafe was cooler than the air outside. As the door slowly creaked shut behind her, Dani turned her head, perusing the empty tables. Most people at this time of day would be at their local church, and it had felt odd even running chores with so few others on the street. Yet sure enough, Jamie was seated in the far corner at a table with a little handwritten reserved placard atop it. Shrugging at the strap of her handbag, Dani steadied her breathing and walked over.

"Sorry," said Dani. "Car troubles. Again."

Jamie remained in her seat as Dani sat across from her. "No problem," she said. "Did you get the seal fixed?"

Dani nodded and dropped her bag onto one of the spare seats. "Yeah. I did. It's something new now."

"Hmm," said Jamie, looking thoughtful. Then, she shrugged and handed over one of the menus on the table.

"Recommend anything here, to be honest. Can't go wrong with Owen's food. Trust me."

Dani took the menu, hesitating when she heard a voice call out from the kitchens in a pleasant but surprising English accent, "I heard that!"

Jamie lifted her voice, but kept her gaze fixed on her own menu. "No, you didn't! And stop eavesdropping!"

A man stuck his head through a window cut in the wall between the kitchen and the main room. His moustache twitched in a tell-tale smile, and his dark eyes gleamed with a mischievous light behind thick spectacles. "You know I never pass up the opportunity to bask in praise."

"I'm fresh out of praises today," said Jamie, aiming a pointed glower at him over the top of her menu.

"Oh, forgive me," he said, not sounding the least bit sorry. "Interrupting your date, am I?"

"Hardly," Jamie replied dryly.

Dani's shoulders stiffened. She jerked the menu up slightly higher, hoping to hide the widening of her eyes.

Jamie noticed. Of course, Jamie noticed. “He’s joking,” Jamie said, then lifted her voice so he could hear. “And being a pillock about it, too!”

Behind her, Dani could hear a chuckle, and then the sound of fading footsteps as he — Owen, presumably — went back to puttering around in the kitchen.

Dani cleared her throat. "I know that." When Jamie gave her a questioning glance, Dani continued, "That he was joking. I know."

It was a godsend that there were no other patrons, otherwise Dani might have panicked at the mere insinuation that she was — but, there was no one to listen in. Just a joke. Nothing she needed to worry about.

Those footsteps had returned, and Owen stood beside their table, tucking a pen behind his ear. His striped apron was immaculate, and his sleeves rolled up just below the elbow, but there was a streak of flour at his jawline from where his white-smudged fingertips had brushed. "Tell me," he said, "What can I get you ladies this fine morning?"

Jamie handed over the menu to him. "A pot of English breakfast and poached eggs on toast for me, thanks."

“A classic,” he murmured with an appreciative nod, then turned his attention to Dani, his expression expectant.

"The omelette and a coffee, please," Dani said.

Owen took her menu as well. "What kind of coffee?"

"Uh -" Dani said eloquently. "The kind with beans in it?"

"Drip coffee?"

"Yes?" she said with a wince at her own ignorance.

"Thank god," Owen sounded relieved. "My barista is at church and I have no idea how to operate that thing." He gestured with the menus towards a gleaming brushed chrome coffee machine that came with its own conical grinder filled with fresh beans. Then he lifted the menus to the side of his mouth and whispered as though the machine might be listening to them, "I think it's sentient. And I know it hates me."

Dani bit at her lower lip to keep a snort of laughter at bay. Owen gave her a parting wink, then strode off towards the kitchens to put together their order. When she turned in her seat, it was to find Jamie watching her with a fond smile that made Dani’s breath catch in her throat. Owen returning with their drinks gave Dani the opportunity to regroup. She straightened in her seat and thanked him with a smile.

"So." Dani reached for the milk and sugar that came with both their drinks. "What brought you back?"

"Right. Straight to it, then."

"I'm - I didn't -"

"No, no," Jamie shook her head. She poured a bit of tea into her cup, only to set the pot back down when the colour wasn't dark enough for her liking. "You know me. Direct is how I prefer it."

Dani held the mug of coffee between her hands despite the burn through a layer of porcelain. "It's just - ten years is a long time to suddenly make a reappearance."

"Maybe I like the attention," Jamie drawled.

Dani gave her a look.

Making a face, Jamie poured herself a cup of tea. "Or maybe not."

She let the silence stretch between them as Jamie poured a splash of milk into her cup. Jamie sipped at her tea and for a long moment said nothing. Then she shrugged, "Dunno. Seemed like a good idea. A fresh start." She gave a rueful huff of laughter. "Must've been what Nan felt like when she first brought me here. A nothing place in the middle of nowhere. Clean slate. All that bullshit."

Dani's thumb traced the handle of the cup. She worried her lower lip between her teeth, building up the courage to admit, "It's good to see you again."

"Could've fooled me," said Jamie, but she was smirking.

Dani winced. "Sorry."

"S'alright. I don't blame you." Jamie set down her cup to let the tea cool. "It's good to see you, too."

Something in Dani's chest unspooled upon hearing that. Like finally breathing in a lungful of air after years of a hand around her throat. She could feel her shoulders relax, the tension running out like a thread pulled from the ragged edge of a sweater.

"And how're you?" Jamie asked. "Got that teaching job, like you always wanted. Well done."

Dani's face softened into a smile. "Thanks."

"How long have you been teaching at the school?"

"About three years now."

"Don't know how you have the patience." Jamie leaned her elbows on the table. "Some days I feel mad just having to deal with one. Meanwhile, you've got a whole classroom of the little buggers."

Dani laughed. "You grow to love them. Even the worst ones."

Jamie scoffed. "Pull the other one."

"I'm serious."

"Yeah?" said Jamie, her eyes glinting as she grinned. "Which was the worst you've ever had?"

"Oh, my god," Dani lowered her voice and began the tale of the Willoughby boy in her second year of teaching. By the time she was done, Jamie's expression was a mixture of horrified and amused.

"I would've killed him," Jamie said. "And the world would’ve better off without a possessed devil child."

"And risk the wrath of old lady Willoughby? No, thank you." Dani lifted her mug of coffee for a sip. "But he honestly wasn't that bad all the time. Just...most of the time."

"Have you ever seen the kid step inside a church?" Jamie asked.

Dani shook her head. "Nope."

Jamie made a gesture with her hand as though that proved her point.

“Oh, like you were the best behaved child on the planet.”

“Fuck no. Nan was a saint in retrospect.” Then Jamie added, “An absolute bitch, too. But still.”

Owen reappeared before Dani could reply, and he placed two dishes down on the table in front of them. Dani thanked him, while Jamie murmured a belated "Cheers, mate," before picking up her cutlery.

"If you need anything else," he said, "I'll be the one in the back, singing along to the radio before the rest of my staff can return and tell me how off-key I sound. Bon appetit."

Shortly after he left, Dani could indeed hear a radio being turned up in the other room. Jamie shook her head but did nothing to hide her smile.

"I can see why this place is so popular," Dani said, utensils in hand so she could dig into her own meal. "New faces don't tend to do that well here."

"Food's not shite either," Jamie said.

Mouth full, Dani made an affirmative noise and nodded her agreement.

"So, did you ever make it out of state like you always wanted?" Jamie asked, gesturing with her knife while she spoke. "See the world? Backpack across Europe?"

Dani's chewing slowed. After swallowing, she shook her head. "Not really, no. I ended up attending the University of Iowa, and — well, I guess things just went from there. Came back home. Got a job."

"All the way to Iowa City? The bustling metropolis itself."

"I'd still like to," said Dani. "Travel, I mean. I'm not sure about the backpacking part anymore. Maybe a rental car instead."

"Fancy," Jamie said. "Not missing out on much, really. At least, not the part of Europe that's the UK."

"I thought you never made it to the continent?"

"Yeah, that's right." Jamie paused to drink some more tea. "Still know it's better than England, though."

"Your patriotism is as strong as ever, I see," Dani said with a grin.

"Must be all the time I've spent here." Jamie winked at her and Dani laughed softly. "Went back for a few years when I turned eighteen," Jamie continued. "Saw my older brother and my dad."

Hearing that, Dani's knife and fork went still against the plate. Her eyes darted up, but Jamie was focused on cutting up her own food. "And how'd that go?" Dani asked carefully.

"Badly," said Jamie, and there wasn't the hint of a smile now. "Dad was disinterested. Denny and I almost killed each other. I ran off to live in East London. Had a bit of a brush up with Her Majesty's finest swineherd. Got my act together. Got Mikey back. Came here."

Jamie's hands were tight around her cutlery, and her voice was clipped. Dani watched her, knowing there was more to that story than Jamie would tell. Not today, at least.

"Sounds like fun," said Dani, spearing a bit of omelette on her fork and lifting it to her mouth for a bite.

"About as fun as your story, I reckon," Jamie said. "Did Ed go to the same university, too?"

It felt like some sort of trap. A trick question. As though Jamie already knew the answer and was asking only to make a point. Dani nodded. “Yeah. He did.”

"How many times did he ask you to marry him before you finally caved?"

Dani shot her an exasperated look. "It's not like that."

"Isn't it?"

Dani took a sip of coffee to avoid answering for as long as possible. After a lengthy pause she muttered around the lip of the cup, "Five times."

"That all? Huh."

“Most of them don’t count,” Dani insisted. “We were kids.”

“Oh, I remember,” said Jamie, and her tone gentled. “And things are good?”

“Yeah. Great,” said Dani, setting down her coffee so she could pick at her food rather than meet Jamie’s piercing gaze. “Perfect. Things are perfect.”

Jamie’s eyebrows rose, but she said nothing. Jamie, who hated being lied to. Jamie, who was as keen-nosed for the truth as a sleuthhound with the scent of blood. Dani felt a thrill of anticipation race up her spine, and she readied herself for whatever pointed question Jamie would lob in her direction with surgical precision.

In the end all Jamie said was, “Judy must’ve been over the moon. She finally gets that daughter she always wanted.”

Dani didn't know what to say to that. She picked at her food, then hummed and said, "Yeah. Though we basically were that for years, until -"

Across the table, Jamie went stock still. When Dani glanced up at her, Jamie's expression was wary, as if waiting for an incoming blow.

Dani set down her cutlery against the edge of her plate with a clink of metal against earthenware. "Do you know how I found out that you'd gone?" she asked quietly, and didn't wait for an answer. "I came over to your house, and your neighbor told me."

She didn't tell Jamie about how she had knocked at the door, about how she had sat around for nearly an hour, thinking that Jamie would be back any moment, about how the neighbor had found her there. ‘Didn't you hear? Oh, geeze. I don't know how to break it to you kid, but -’

Now, Jamie sat across from her, refusing to meet her eye, pretending to be engrossed with pouring out the last dregs of loose leaf tea from the pot. When it became clear that Dani wasn't going to throw her a bone — not this time, not about this — Jamie said stiffly, "Wasn't like I was given much time to say my goodbyes. Child protection services can move pretty quick, when they want to. Barely had time to pack my bags, truth be told."

Dani opened her mouth to speak, but a bell chimed behind them, and her head turned. Someone had entered the cafe and was walking into the kitchen with smiles and apologies to Owen for being late. More people followed, trickling in from the street, hoping for a fortifying brunch after the Sunday service. It wouldn't be long until the tables filled up. Someone recognised Dani and waved at her. She prayed her smile in return didn't resemble a grimace.

"Excuse me," Jamie murmured, pushing her chair back and rising to her feet.

Dani blinked and turned back to face her. "Oh. Where -?"

"Won't be a moment. Just going to the loo."

She half expected Jamie to not return. Maybe she would make a run for it. Scramble out a rear window and sprint all the way home. Dani pushed her plate further away, appetite gone.

True to her word however, Jamie returned not a few minutes later, but she did not sit back down. "C'mon," she said. "Let's get some fresh air."

Dani stood. She slung her bag over one shoulder and opened it to pull out her wallet.

Jamie waved her away. "No need for that."

"But we need to pay," Dani said, pointing to the till, where a young man was taking orders.

"Already handled," said Jamie. She jerked her head towards the exit, where a line was beginning to form.

Hesitant, Dani stuffed her wallet back into her handbag. As they left, a few others took notice and tried to strike up a conversation. There were remarks about how they noticed her missing at church, and they’d wondered if she had been feeling ill. Dani shook her head and smiled and inched her way out of the cafe without being roped into another cup of coffee. Though it was a narrow escape.

When they had successfully managed to extricate themselves and were wandering down the street, Dani murmured, "Thank you for breakfast."

"No problem," said Jamie. "Where are you parked?"

Dani gestured further up the street. "Pretty far, actually. About ten minutes that way."

"I'll walk you back."

"You don't have to."

"Yeah, but I want to." Jamie shot her a roguish grin. "Not much else to do on my Sundays except hang out with the kid. And you know how siblings are. We get on each others' nerves at the drop of a hat."

"You could've brought him along," Dani said. "He didn't have to stay at home alone."

Jamie shrugged. "He likes it. Means he gets to watch reruns while I'm gone."

"Quite the Wonder Woman fan, I saw."

"Christ," said Jamie, rolling her eyes. "And — what's the one called? Star Hike? Star Something?"

"Star Trek?"

"Whatever. He won't shut up about it. At least Lynda Carter is easy on the eyes."

Dani had to tuck her thumbs into her fists and refrain from agreeing. She steered the topic towards safer waters, and Jamie seemed all too happy to talk about Mikey. They walked, taking their time. And something seethed in Dani's stomach the more they avoided talking about anything of substance. As if they could just pretend everything was fine. It galled, and every word seemed to turn a key like loading a spring, coiling it taut.

By the time they arrived at her car — parked in a quiet side alley beside the pharmacy, tucked away from the main street — Dani already gripped her keys in her fist. She offered Jamie a tight smile, "I'll see you later, then."

And the worst part was, Jamie was unreadable again. Just as she had been the whole walk. She leaned her shoulder against the brick cladding of the pharmacy's outer wall and nodded. "'Course," she said, but remained standing there, watching.

For a moment Dani met her gaze, silently daring her to say something — anything, so long as it was actually something — before she unlocked her car and lowered herself into the driver's seat. When she turned the key in the ignition, the engine sputtered and refused to catch.

"Not now," Dani muttered to herself. Her eyes darted to the window, to where Jamie stood witness, and she turned the key again. "Shit."

Jamie's voice was slightly muffled through a layer of glass. "Let me have another look."

Yanking open the door and stepping out, Dani said, "No. I'll call a tow this time. The pharmacy has a phone I can -"

Except Jamie was already leaning across her, reaching into the car to pop the hood. "It's fine. Really."

Dani shook her head and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Jamie -"

"I can fix it."

"You can't."

"You haven't seen me with a spanner, yet," Jamie said, and she grinned over her shoulder as her fingers sought the latch to lift the hood of the car.

"No, I'm saying — you can't."

Something in her tone made Jamie pause. Dani lowered her hand, only to clench it into a fist, pushing down hard on the knuckle of her thumb. She swallowed, trying to tamp down the nerves that made her feel like she was half-crawling out of her own skin. All that circling around one another — veiled pleasantries and wary exchange of glances — like being inexorably drawn down by the gravity of the very thing neither of them had the courage to voice.

“I don’t -” Dani started to say, and had to try again when her voice slipped. “I don’t want you to fix my car.”

Jamie cocked an eyebrow, straightening slowly from where she had been leaning over. "Then what do you want?"

"I want you -" said Dani shakily, "- to talk to me. Actually talk to me."

"Thought I was doing a pretty good job of it until now." Jamie was still grinning, as if with a well-timed joke she might make this whole conversation never happen.

Shaking her head, Dani breathed, "Stop. Just stop.”

“Stop what?”

“Stop acting like everything's fine. Like this -” Dani gestured between the two of them with sharp little movements “- is fine. Because it's not. And I know you know it."

Jamie’s hand was balanced on the top of the car door, holding it open. She stepped back and shut it, not loudly but firmly. “What’s there to say?”

“You come back after all this time, and you don’t even acknowledge that - that -” Dani grasped for the right words, but the feeling danced just out of reach of articulation, like catching the edge of a bowl on a high shelf with the very tips of her fingers. “Ruth died.”

Jamie’s jaw went tight. “Yeah, I remember. Found her myself, even, if you recall.”

"And then suddenly you were just -" Dani lifted her hand only to let it drop back to her side "- gone! No goodbye! No note! And I - I had to go on like everything was okay, when it wasn't. Nothing was okay. I wasn't okay.”

“And I was?”

“No!” Dani said. “That’s not -!”

“You think all this happened because I wanted it?” Jamie asked, making an all-encompassing gesture towards the empty alley.

“That’s not what I said! I just -!” Dani took a deep breath, trying to steady herself when it felt like the world was rocking on its axis around her. “I missed you. Everyday. I still do."

Jamie stared at her as though the rug had been pulled right out from under her boots. "I'm here now," she said.

"Yeah, but you weren't. Not then. Not when I -!" Dani cut herself off from whatever idiotic thing she'd been about to let slip.

"What the fuck was I supposed to do? I didn’t ‘leave.’ I was taken." Jamie took a step forward, her hands balled into fists at her thighs. "Jesus, Dani, I was sixteen! Sixteen and trying to raise a kid by myself. Can you imagine what kind of disaster I would've -!" But Jamie just turned her head aside, lifting her hand to cover her mouth and shake her head.

"You didn't think to talk to anyone?" Dani asked. "Me? Judy? Or -?"

"Judy? Judy was the one who called social services! And you know what? I'm fucking relieved she did. At the time I was so mad, but now, I -" Jamie swallowed past a burr in her voice. "I couldn't have stayed here even if I wanted to."

For a moment Dani waited, waited for Jamie to say something else, to continue. When she didn't, Dani breathed an incredulous huff of laughter. "What? They -? They un-invent telephones where you went? Never heard of the postal service before?"

Jamie was shaking her head and smiling, an angry rictus grin, as she looked down at her feet and kicked at a loose stone. "Not that simple, is it?"

"Isn't it? God knows I tried to send letters to you. All the time. Even years later."

Jamie still wouldn't look up at her. The line of her mouth was hard. "I couldn't."

"Couldn't?" Dani pressed, and it was her turn to step forward, ducking her head to try and get a good look at Jamie's face. "Or didn't want to?"

"No, I - I wanted -"

"Well, clearly not."

"Dani -"

"Because the Jamie I knew wouldn't have gone down without a fight! The Jamie I knew was -!"

"Jesus fucking Christ! I didn't send you a letter because I couldn't stand it!" Jamie yelled. "Because if it was going to end, then I wanted it over quickly! Put me out of my misery! Send you a letter? Then what?"

Dani's mouth dropped open but no sound came out. Jamie was looking at her now, and her eyes were over-bright, her cheeks flushed, her lower lip trembling. They stood close enough that when Jamie exhaled shakily, Dani could feel the stir of the air.

Jamie breathed in sharply before she said, "You would've stopped replying. Eventually. You would've slipped away, and I — I couldn't do that. Not this time. Not with you."

The silence stretched between them, terrible and vast. Dani made an abortive movement — to touch her, to do something — but Jamie flinched as if expecting to be slapped. Dani blinked, freezing in place with her hand outstretched, while Jamie ducked her head and wiped briskly at her cheeks.

"I wouldn't have," Dani said finally, feeling raw, feeling flensed. "I'm still here. I've always been here."

"Yeah. Yeah, y'are." Jamie nodded. She cleared her throat gruffly and straightened.

Slowly, falteringly, feeling brave beyond compare, Dani lowered her hand, only to reach down and touch Jamie’s balled up fist. Jamie started at the contact, her eyes darting down as Dani brushed her thumb against the back of her knuckles until Jamie loosened her hand enough to clasp their fingers together. Dani was enchanted by the way Jamie held her mouth, by the brief flutter of her eyelashes and her unsteady inhalation at that simple touch.

"So, you missed me?" Jamie gave her a watery grin.

"Of course, I did,” Dani murmured. “You were my best friend."

Jamie nodded, swallowed thickly, but said nothing.

Dani squeezed Jamie’s hand gently, feeling the ghost of that pressure returned before she let go. “Can we -? Can we start over?” Dani asked, and she smiled weakly. “Oh, wow! I'm so glad to see you again! Do you want to catch up sometime?"

Jamie laughed and shoved her hands into her back pockets, rocking in place on her heels. "I'd like that." When she met Dani’s gaze this time, her teeth caught on the side of her lip, a corner of her mouth curling in a smile. “You want to come over for afternoon tea next week?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’d love to.”

Jamie jerked her thumb over her shoulder. “Probably should have a look under your bonnet, though.”

“God,” Dani muttered, darting past her to pull open the car and pop the hood. “I almost forgot about that. I’m sorry - I - ”

Jamie stilled her movements with a warm hand on Dani’s shoulder. “It’s all right. Really. Let me fix it.”

Mouth suddenly dry, Dani nodded. “Okay.”

It was by now second nature for Dani to sweep her eyes across her childhood home the moment she stepped foot in it. By all accounts, it was a picturesque two story house with not a picture frame or vase out of place. The floors swept and vacuumed, the plastic plants eased into corners, dusted and shined. But there were things only Dani had a keen eye for. The thin layer of ash collected on windowsills and corners of kitchen countertops. Empty glasses hidden in bathrooms or the back porch. Empty bottles under the sink that needed to be collected and thrown out. Cigarette butts hidden under sofas and chairs — those scared her the most.

It was simply her good daughterly duty, to check in at least once a week, fearing the day that there wouldn’t be a childhood home to come back to. She was well versed in the nature of it, and not just the fear and the duty, but the side stepping and placating that came along with it.

“I just don’t see what the issue is,” her mother said, sitting behind Dani at the small round kitchen table, smoking as Dani cleaned the empty glasses piled in the sink. “You’ve always loved reading.”

Dani sighed. They’ve been circling this conversation since morning before church. “I told you, I don’t have the time for a book club.”

“There’s so many other young women your age there, and they don’t have any issues with time,” her mother said, in between puffs. Dani could practically feel her mother’s hard stare on her back. “Weren’t you friends with some of them? Susan? Jackie?”

Dani clenched her teeth, scrubbing particularly hard at a wine glass. “I’m sorry mom, but no,” she said.

Karen exhaled sharply, expelling a stream of smoke. “I just don’t understand you, Danielle,” she said, her voice cutting. Dani’s shoulders tensed. “We always do anything you want in your free time, but any time I want us to do something together, you can’t even bother. Every time. Every time it’s like this with you.”

There it was. You simply just didn’t say no to Karen Clayton. Not without consequence. Dani learned that a long time ago, browbeaten into something smaller and softer for Karen to mold and subdue when her eyes weren’t so glassy and her words weren’t so unsteady. But the past week had lit a flame under Dani’s feet, a sort of weightlessness she hadn’t felt in so long that she didn’t even remember what it had felt like before.

Still, it didn’t stop Dani from hunching her shoulders in an attempt to curl into herself as Karen audibly stood from her chair, the legs screeching against the floor. “I’m sorry,” she said softly, as if that would soften the blow, rinsing off the last glass and shutting off the pipe.

Karen scoffed as she opened the fridge to pull out a carton of orange juice and a bottle of vodka. When she spoke, the cigarette bobbed between her lips. “No, no. Far be it from me to want to spend more time with my daughter, do something fun together. And the ladies would’ve loved to have you there. They’ll be so disappointed.”

Dani would have laughed if the idea of it didn’t make her feel taut at the seams. There was no fun to be gained sitting in a room with women who either relentlessly taunted her in their youth or whispered behind their books of how Dani was spotted just the other day having dinner with councilman Fields and her perfect fiancé, the promising politician to-be. Nothing to be gained in being her mother’s showdog, paraded around like a prized possession, her mother’s pride and joy. Dani would’ve laughed, if the thought didn’t make her feel hollow.

Instead, Dani frowned, drying her hands on a dish towel as she watched her mother make herself a drink, her mouth pulled tight in a scowl as she poured and mixed, expertly maneuvering the lit cigarette between two fingers. It was her third drink of the day, having already downed two mimosas during lunch. Dani wrapped her arms around her stomach, feeling it curdle uncomfortably as she watched.

As her mother took a long sip, Dani murmured, “Work has just been keeping me busy, is all.”

Karen gave her a look. “Honey, you’re a teacher, what could possibly — “ she cut herself off when Dani’s stare hardened. Karen exhaled sharply, turning away to take another sip and stabbing out her smoke in an ashtray Dani had just cleaned. “Never mind.”

“No,” Dani said, pulling her arms tighter around her. “What were you going to say?”

“I said never mind, Danielle,” her mother repeated, her eyes hardened. She sighed and rubbed her temple. “God, I can’t talk to you when you’re like this.”

Karen stumbled away, retrieving her pack of cigarettes and lighter from the table before wandering out of the kitchen towards the living room. Dani watched her leave, her breathing shallow and her hands clenched into fists.

It took a minute longer than usual, to let it ease out of her. To let her shoulders drop from her ears and her fists to relax open. Maybe it was her mother switching on the tv to a loud sitcom. Or maybe it was the orange juice and vodka, still laid out on the counter along with other empty bottles that needed to be thrown out. For one brief intense second, Dani considered combing through the entire house for every single bottle and carton of cigarettes, to empty them down the drain and toss them all in the garbage.

She took it out on the dishes instead, drying them with a cloth, her movements jerky and rushed. If she wasn’t so focused on it, wasn’t frowning so hard down at her reflection in the glass as she focused on trying to ease the tension in her coiled muscles, maybe then she’d have noticed the knock on the front door a second sooner. Maybe then, she would have remembered —

“Afternoon, Mrs. Clayton. Long time no see.” Jamie’s distinct voice, cheerful and pleasant as ever, came from the front door.

Remembered that Dani, temporarily car-less, had made plans for Jamie to come pick her up at the old house.

Dani froze at the sound, her eyes wide at the silent interval, and then: “You have some nerve coming back here and knocking on my door,” Karen said, derision dripping from her voice.

“Shit,” Dani muttered, and rushed to where her mother stood sentry in the doorway. Just over her shoulder stood Jamie on the porch, hands in her pockets and wearing a grin. A familiar grin, one that Dani knew Jamie had worn in the presence of her mother since they were young, placid and charming but which Dani knew hid its own share of derision. When their eyes met over her mother’s shoulders, Jamie’s grin softened.

“Hope I’m not too late,” Jamie said.

“You’re early actually,” Dani said, ignoring Karen’s piercing stare as she stepped aside to make room for Dani by the doorway. She had been hoping for her mother to be distracted by her television and her drinks to leave at the same moment that Jamie was supposed to pull up towards the house, but now —

“Oh? Early for what?” Her mother asked pointedly.

Dani swallowed hard, pulling her mouth into a tense smile as she finally caught her mother’s gaze. “Oh, um. Jamie and I were going to go have tea. To catch up."

Karen hummed, folding her arms across her chest, sparing Jamie another sharp look, and said, “I didn’t realize you two were friends again.”

Any answer Dani could have given became lodged in the back of her throat. Her eyes flickered towards Jamie to find her already staring back, her expression blank but for the soft curl at one corner of her mouth. That was the rub, wasn’t it. Neither of them had identified what it was they were trying to do here. A tenuous strand of hope was threaded between them that afternoon a week ago, but Dani, feeling like a newborn colt on wobbly legs, wasn’t even sure where she stood in the realm of Jamie letting her back into her life. Wasn’t sure how far she herself was willing to go.

“Well, you have to start somewhere, yeah? A cup of tea’s a good enough place as any,” Jamie said, shrugging, her grin turning mischievous as she looked at Dani, “No matter how rancid.”

Dani would have chuckled at the teasing words if it weren’t for the eager thrill going down her spine at Jamie all but confirming the start of something.

Her mother smiled, the curl of her lips more of a sneer than anything. “I see,” was all she said, arching an eyebrow at Dani.

Dread pooled to her stomach, her muscles tensing as Karen bore her eyes into Dani, displeasure leeching off of her, her lips thin.

Dani cleared her throat, pulling her mouth into a smile until her cheeks ached. “Well, I um. I just have to go get changed, and then we’ll get out of your hair,” she said, mindlessly reaching her hand towards Jamie, whose face flickered with bemusement.

Karen's face fell. Far too obediently for her own sake, Jamie took hold of her hand, her bemusement morphing into something more mischievous. A shock almost went up from Dani’s palm up to her shoulder at the touch, Jamie’s hand calloused but warm and dry in her own. Letting herself be pulled in the house, Jamie was already toeing off her boots as she offered Karen a wink. Dani squeezed her hand with a reprimanding look when her mother’s eyes hardened. Jamie didn’t even have the decency to look contrite.

“We’ll just be a few minutes,” Dani said, pulling Jamie insistently towards the staircase, offering her mother one last weak smile, “Promise.”

Her mother huffed and shut the door, disappearing back into the living room with one last scowl. When she was finally out of sight, Dani immediately dropped Jamie’s hand and led her up the stairs with a murmured, “This way.”

Jamie whistled low. “Your mum's still as charming as ever, I see,” Jamie murmured just behind her.

“Yeah, I’m sorry about that,” Dani breathed out an awkward chuckle. “She’s, um. She’s been in a bit of a mood today.”

She expected a sharp retort, the kind of snark only her mother could pull out of Jamie, but instead there was silence behind her. Dani glanced over her shoulder with a frown to see Jamie staring thoughtfully at the framed photos lining the staircase walls as they climbed. Portraits of Dani throughout the years, family photos of just Dani and her mom, and photos with Eddie intermittently spread across the board. It wasn’t anything new or special, photos Dani’s seen a million times that they could’ve faded into the walls, and she wouldn’t have noticed. But as she followed Jamie’s eyeline towards Dani’s high school graduation portrait, Jamie’s eyes lingering intently on it as they passed, a dull ache spread across Dani’s chest and she spun back around, swallowing hard.

When they reached her bedroom, Dani shut the door closed with a click, the sound uncomfortably loud in the sudden quiet. Six years. Six years of after school hangouts, of homework, of sleepovers, and never once had Jamie appeared so out of place as she did now, standing in the middle of the pale pink of Dani’s childhood bedroom, hands tucked deep in the pockets of her jeans, her expression carefully blank as she took in the scene.

“Hasn’t changed much,” Jamie said.

“Wasn’t really any need to,” Dani murmured, still trying to shake off the panic of having Jamie in her room for the first time in a decade, trying desperately not to recall the memories of the last time they had been in this room together.

As if her mind had drifted towards the same place, Jamie’s gaze wandered over to the purple comforters of Dani’s bed, visibly swallowed hard, and promptly meandered away towards Dani’s bookshelf. Feeling as if she’d both seen too much, and not enough at all, Dani cleared her throat and started towards her closet where she still kept some change of clothes, blindly pulling some out.

With clothes in hand, she froze on the spot and murmured, “Um.”

At the sound, Jamie looked back at her and then down at the clothes she clutched in a fist. She blinked for a moment and then grinned. “Need me to turn around?” She asked, twirling a finger in a circle as a curious pale flush spread across her cheeks.

Dani felt her stomach swoop and drop, her cheeks warming. She chuckled breathlessly. “No, It’s — It’s okay. I’ll just — I’ll be a minute,” she said, and didn’t even wait for Jamie to reply as she darted out the room to change in the bathroom.

In the time it took to change into jeans and a blouse, she managed to ease the tremble in her hands. To settle the panic of Jamie alone in her room, and of the embarrassment of just rushing out like that. Maybe it was a fool’s hope, to believe that things could’ve been easier after they had finally aired the frustrations of their reality. That things could’ve just inexplicably gone back to the way they were, and it would’ve suddenly been easier to look and talk to Jamie without feeling as unmoored as she did.

When she returned to the room, she found that Jamie had wandered now over to her vanity, her arms loosely folded as she looked at the photos taped to the edges of Dani’s mirror. Photos that Dani knew contained so many memories that didn’t involve Jamie, memories that Jamie wasn’t around to take part of. Dani took in a deep breath and exhaled slowly, hanging her dress on a rack behind her closet door.

It was simply the new normal, Dani reminded herself. The dawn of their fresh start, something she’d have to keep reminding herself until they finally found their footing, or until they eased their way into something different and new. The thought left her feeling unexpectedly calmer.

Striding towards the vanity, she caught Jamie’s eyes through the mirror and gave her a small grin.

“Senior prom looked fun,” Jamie said, taking one last scan of the photos before retreating to the other side of the room just as Dani stepped next to her.

Ducking her eyes, Dani smiled weakly down at the contents of her dresser. “You didn’t miss much, to be honest,” she said, and began to exchange her modest earring studs to a pair of gold hoops. “Someone spiked the punch and almost everyone got super drunk.”

“You kidding? That’s loads of blackmail material right there for the taking,” Jamie said. “At least tell me you took advantage of that?”

Dani gave her a look through the mirror. Jamie rolled her eyes and shook her head, her grin fond. “A goddamn waste,” she murmured, and then unexpectedly sobered. “I’m sorry, by the way.”

Dani froze, her eyes locked on Jamie, feeling her shoulders tense. “For what?”

“For riling your mum up like that. Habit, I guess,” Jamie said, shrugging with a rueful smile, before softly adding, “And also, everything else.”

There was something to be said with the way Dani’s heart immediately softened, her throat going thick at Jamie’s earnestness. The mirror needed a polish, and Jamie’s reflection was slightly smudged, so that she seemed to be standing further away in the background, as though a camera lens had been dialed out of focus. The new normal, Dani reminded herself. “I know,” she murmured, smiling faintly. “Me too.”

Jamie nodded, exhaling shakily and ducked her head to delve deeper in the room. Dani watched her silently through the mirror, brushing out her hair as Jamie wandered around as if she were in a museum, hands tucked away and her expression back to being painfully blank. When she finally reached Dani’s bedside table, she jerked to a stop, staring down at the one thing Dani had never found the heart to remove. The one photo left of Jamie out in the open, the only one framed and resting at her bedside, proving that she was here, that she had once existed in the orbit of Dani’s gravity.

It was one of Dani’s favorites. Taken when they were around fifteen, sometime in the evening after a long spring day, Jamie holding Dani up in a piggyback ride with Dani’s arms wrapped around Jamie’s shoulders, the pair smiling so big and bright. Dani didn’t even remember what they were doing that day, only that feeling of endless carefree days, when she felt most like herself.

She watched as Jamie picked up the frame, her face softening until she wore a faint but fond grin. Do you miss it too? Dani wanted to ask. Did you miss me? Instead, she looked away as Jamie’s throat bobbed, feeling again as if she’d seen too much.

She finished by tying her hair up neatly with a blue scrunchie, exhaled softly, and said, “All done.”

Jamie cleared her throat and returned the photo to the bedside table, and said, “Right.”

The escape out of the house was easier than Dani had expected it to be. While Jamie slipped her boots back on, Dani retrieved a takeout bag she had left on the kitchen counter before bidding her mother goodbye for the day. Karen merely waved with a hum, distracted by the tv, though her mouth was still pulled tight in a scowl.

They were almost out the front door scot-free when Jamie, clearly unable to help herself, smirked and called out just before the door shut, “Don’t worry, Mrs. Clayton. I’ll have her home by eleven.”

Dani huffed and knocked her elbow into Jamie’s ribs. At Jamie’s grunt, Dani bit her lip to contain her grin and shut the front door.

“Your elbows are still as sharp as ever,” Jamie said, rubbing at her ribs, grinning widely as they strolled towards Jamie’s truck, as if the fresh air and distance from Dani’s room made it easier. “You Clayton women are pieces of work. Do I have that to look forward to in another twenty years?” she said, jerking her thumb behind her.

Even as a thrill went down Dani’s spine at the thought of twenty more years of Jamie, she rolled her eyes and said, “Keep talking like that, and you just might.” Jamie smirked in response.

The truck was warm from the afternoon sun as Dani slid in the passenger seat. There was a faint citrusy smell along with the little tree air freshener as if it had just been cleaned. When she caught sight of a variety of stickers attached to the glove compartment — a collection ranging between Star Wars, Star Trek, cartoons she vaguely recognized, and a legion of silver stars — Dani hid her smile by biting her lower lip.

“What’s this, then?” Jamie said, gesturing down to the takeout bag Dani held in her lap as she started the engine.

Dani grinned sheepishly. “Lunch. From Owen’s,” she said, “Can’t visit someone else’s home without bringing something.”

“You don’t have to do that with me, you know,” Jamie said as they took off down the street, not looking at her. “All that social niceties bullshit. All you need to do is bring yourself. S’all I care about.”

Leaning her head against the headrest, Dani watched Jamie’s profile with a soft grin. “It’s a midwestern thing,” she explained. “Besides, I wanted to.”

Jamie spared her a short glance, grinning crookedly. “The kid’ll appreciate that then,” she said, returning her gaze to the road. “My cooking is not up to snuff most days.”

A thought suddenly occurred to Dani. “You did tell him, right? That I was visiting?” she said, lifting her head and sitting upright.

“Oh no, I figured we’d surprise him.” When Dani gave her a look, Jamie rolled her eyes. “Of course I told him. D’you think I’m bloody mad? Imagine you at twelve years old, having a nice day at home when whatsherface from fourth grade comes knocking on your door for an afternoon cuppa with your mum. Christ, I may be a prat, but not that much of a prat.”

Dani laughed, and said, “You’re not a prat.” It was Jamie’s turn to give Dani a look. “Okay, maybe just a little. For comparing me to Mrs. Walker.”

“Believe me. You are miles ahead of that woman.”

A warmth spread across Dani’s chest up to her cheeks. With a pleased grin, Dani turned to stare at the passing buildings and landmarks as they drove by. The drive wasn’t too long, but it was filled with anecdotes of surviving their hard-nosed fourth grade teacher.

“That’s putting it mildly,” Jamie muttered. “She was mental.”

“Fourth graders can get rowdy.”

Jamie snorted, and shot her a dry stare. “She yelled at you for reading ahead.”

Dani paused. “I actually forgot about that.”

Jamie chuckled as they pulled up to a house. “Right, here we are. Home sweet home.”

Dani eagerly leaned forward to look up at it through the windshield, smiling softly at the modest two story house. Pale grey with white shutters, a small porch right up front, and a bright red door. There were flower boxes along the windows on the first floor, blooming colorfully bright, and as she hopped out of the truck, she could see that there were also beds of flowers growing right along the walls of the house.

“It’s beautiful, Jamie,” Dani said softly.

Jamie shrugged. “Front’s all right. Back is a bit more of a mess.”

“Kinda have trouble believing that,” Dani said, enchanted with how picturesque it all looked.

Jamie rolled her eyes and started up the front steps to the door, swiftly unlocking it. But as soon as Jamie led Dani inside, they both heard the thudding of feet bounding up a flight of stairs and the telltale sound of a door slamming shut. Dani hesitated, shooting Jamie a worried look.

Rolling her eyes again, Jamie huffed and shut the front door. “Dunno what he thinks hiding is gonna do,” she grumbled, pulling her boots off, gesturing for Dani to do the same. “Gonna have to come down at some point.”

“Are you sure this is okay?” Dani slowly asked, setting her shoes neatly aside on a rubber mat.

“Seemed perfectly fine when I told him.” Dani gave her a dubious look. “Okay, I bargained pizza for dinner with him, and he promised not to be a git about it, so it looks like pizza’s off the table for now,” Jamie said, her words gruff but still unable to hide a grin. It was charming, but did very little to comfort Dani, worrying her lower lip. Seeing this, Jamie softened. “Look, just give him a minute to settle. You know how us Taylors are.”

Slowly, the tension in Dani’s shoulders eased, and she nodded with a small grin. “Yeah, I do."

Jamie mirrored her grin for a moment before clearing her throat and stuffing her hands in her pockets. “Right, well. How about a bit of a tour?” she said, gesturing broadly to the house, “That’s another thing you midwesterners like doing, yeah?”

Dani grinned dubiously and said, “You realize you are a midwesterner, right?”

Jamie snorted. “Hardly."

The first thing Dani noticed was how bright it was. Every window they passed was wide open with the curtains tied back, letting the afternoon light bounce across the off-white walls and a warm breeze waft through the rooms. The second thing she noticed was that there were plants everywhere. Greenery eased into corners and on tables and ledges. As Jamie led her through the kitchen to drop off the takeout, Dani smiled at the various plants and flowers propped up on the fridge and counters.

Leaving the takeout bag on the counter next to the sink where a variety of pots rested on the ledge just behind it, basking in the sun, Jamie stepped next to her and gave a curious shake to the watering can that sat in the sink.

“Ass didn’t even finish watering them,” Jamie grumbled, but at Dani’s chuckle, she shook her head and grinned, turning around to lean her back against the counter. “Guess this is the kitchen.”

“It’s lovely,” Dani said, taking in the white cupboards and dark countertops. She especially liked the small dining table separated by the kitchen island that sat cramped next to the open window overlooking the small glimpse of what Dani could see as the backyard.

“Tell me how you really feel,” Jamie said. “Needs some work, more like. Feels like every time I empty a box, another magically appears, I swear.”

Dani couldn’t say she knew the feeling. Every box in the house she shared with Eddie that was emptied and packed away felt like one step closer to a locked cage. She didn't say this though, didn’t let it show on her face, not when there already seemed to be a strange sort of stiffness to Jamie’s shoulders as she guided Dani out of the kitchen, gesturing with her chin towards the door that led to the basement with her hands deep in her pockets. Tense eyes that refused to meet Dani’s own as she pointed out the bathroom and various cupboards and closets, like she was nervous as to what she might see in Dani’s expression.

Like the truck, the house smelled like it had just been cleaned. Floors swept and not a speck of dust in sight, like the house had been cleansed of anything unsavoury. There was something both sweet and unnerving to it. Slowly, as if leeching off the nervous energy from Jamie, Dani wrapped her arms around her stomach, wishing she knew what to say as Jamie guided her towards the living room.

She wished she could tell sixteen year Jamie how charming the visibly well worn and loved the mismatched furniture was. The same Jamie who was taunted relentlessly for living in the poorest neighborhood in town, but never seemed to care when it came to Dani. Wished she knew how to tell this Jamie, who seemed to think Dani was the kind of person who grew to care about such a thing. Wished she knew how to tell her that every single object, every single plant and knickknack and visible record vinyl was like getting a piece of the puzzle back, like getting little pieces of Jamie back.

New normal, she reminded herself faintly, meandering away from Jamie to wander around the living room, eyes darting about, hungrily taking everything in.

When her eyes landed on the picture frames lining the mantle, her stomach twisted tightly, and slowly, she neared them. There were only four, and while they were so few, it somehow made them all the more precious given how Dani hadn’t seen a single other photo among the rest of the house.

The first one she sought was a charming school photo of Mikey, looking just a few years younger, smiling wide with his hair tamed and slicked back from his usual mess of curls. The one next to it was an old black and white portrait of a striking woman who could only be Ruth Heron, square-jawed and stern-eyed even in her youth. The next one Dani actually remembered taking; Jamie on her fifteenth birthday, sitting in front a cake with lit candles, wearing a wide crooked grin as she held a baby Mikey in her lap with Ruth standing just beside them, an arm across Jamie’s shoulders and wearing a rare warm smile. Dani swallowed against a lump in her throat, her grin rueful, memories of that day warming her skin.

When she reached the last photo, she paused. It was of Jamie and Mikey, though Mikey was much younger than he was now, looking near six years old. Small enough for Jamie to hold up against her hip with his arms wrapped around her shoulders, both wearing near identical smiles. Jamie stood shin deep in water, her pants rolled up to her knees though still damp at the edges, and behind them was nothing but dark blue water. Dani’s hands itched to touch the frame, to pick it up and inspect it more closely.

“Atlantic ocean,” Jamie’s voice came from behind her.

Dani jerked the hand away that had been inching across the mantle, spinning around to see Jamie had stepped nearer, hands still in her pockets, shoulders still tense but the corners of her mouth curled faintly.

“Sorry,” Dani said, balling her hands in fists by her side.

Jamie shook her head. “S’alright,” she said, and shrugged, “Only fair, I guess.”

Dani chuckled, recalling the way Jamie had seemed unable to remove her own gaze from the photos in her childhood house. She gestured towards the photo and said, “You saw the Atlantic?”

Jamie hummed, her eyes straying to the photo in question, her face softening into a fond smile, and stepped closer. “Scarborough, Maine if you want to get particular about it,” she said, “Water was cold. He didn’t want to get in or let me stray too far. First time he ever let me hold him like that.”

“Good day?” Dani asked, still looking at Jamie.

“Yeah,” Jamie murmured, nodding.

There was something enrapturing with the pensive warmth in Jamie’s face, eyes distant as though she was recalling that day. But all too quickly, the look was gone, cleared away to a carefully blank expression.

“Anyways,” Jamie said, clearing her throat, and gesturing with a nod of her head behind her, putting on a grin, “Backyard’s this way.” Dani followed dutifully as Jamie led them to a door near the kitchen, already open save for the mesh screen to let in the breeze. She pulled the screen open and gestured for Dani to take a look. “Remember. Bit of a mess.”

Giving Jamie a look, Dani peeked her head out, feeling distinctly like was looking at an unfinished piece of artwork. There was a porch that encompassed the whole length of the back of the house, painted white and swept clean, various tools and gardening supplies shoved into each corner. The backyard itself was larger than Dani expected, clearly still in the process of being cleared; the grass was cut and weeds removed, but there still remained unwanted bushes and a collection of yard waste bags filled to the brim scattered around. Near the back corner, there were more tools and supplies shucked by an old shed that seemed as if it could give Dani tetanus just by looking at it. It wasn’t as much of a mess as Jamie had made it out to be, but Dani could see the potential in it.

“Isn’t much yet, obviously,” Jamie said, leaning her shoulder against the wall next to the door, “Haven’t had time to work on it, unfortunately, due to work and all.”

Dani spared her a soft grin before stepping out on the porch, the wood warm beneath her feet, and leaned against the wood railing. “So what’s the plan?” she asked, looking over her shoulder at Jamie who stared at her with an odd look for a moment before following her outside and leaning on the railing next to her.

“The plan,” Jamie said, exhaling as she looked over the yard, “Haven’t thought about it much.”

“Bull,” Dani said. Jamie smirked at her, shaking her head fondly. “Seriously, what’s the plan?”

“All right,” Jamie murmured.

Leaning her chin on her fist, Dani watched as Jamie explained her vision for the backyard, eyes bright and gesturing towards different corners of the grass, pointing out which flowers would go where, and which vegetable plot there.

“Could use a tree,” Dani offered. “A fruit tree, maybe.”

“What kind?”

Dani hummed in thought. “Apple.”

“All right, where?”

“Somewhere there.” Dani gestured in a vague direction towards the back.

Jamie chuckled, and said, “That’s where the greenhouse is going.”

Dani rolled her eyes. “Fine, a cherry blossom out front.”

Arching an eyebrow, Jamie grinned. “All right, anything else?”

“I’ll let you know.” The warm breeze brushed against Dani’s skin as they chuckled. When they fell quiet, listening to the trees rustle, Dani straightened after a moment, and said, “I always knew you were gonna do something with plants.”

“That right?” Jamie said, straightening to lean against a pillar, eyes still warm, but there was a guardedness to it now.

Dani nodded. “You always complained about it, always wanted to do something else when Nan put you to work but,” she paused, eyes drifting back to the yard, recalling those days Jamie would roll on her back in the grass next to Dani after a long day of chores, eyes shut with the faintest of smiles, her nose speckled with sun kissed freckles. Dani’s mouth curved into a warm smile, “You were content after.”

Her gaze drifted back to Jamie who was watching her with an unreadable expression. Soft as it was, it sent Dani’s stomach fluttering not unpleasantly. And then, Jamie blinked and glanced away, shrugging. “That’s the thing with plants, I suppose,” Jamie said. “Easier than people. Predictable. Good listeners. Give back what you give them.”

Dani’s smile gradually slipped away, and before she could find the words to respond, Jamie pushed off the pillar and gestured to the house. Dutifully, Dani followed her back inside. The rest of the tour went by at speed light with Jamie leading her upstairs, pointing vaguely to three doors she described as another bathroom, her own bedroom, and a spare room they mostly used for things they haven’t found a place for yet, until they reached the last door at the end of the hallway, covered in more stickers.

“And this’ll be the kid himself,” Jamie said, winking at Dani before knocking hard on the door, "Oi, unless you’ve got a hankering for my dry pasta, I suggest you best get yourself sorted out in five minutes for lunch.”

There was audible scrambling from behind the door. Dani shook her head with a grin as Jamie chuckled under her breath. “Yeah, yeah, fine, I’ll be down,” Mikey called through the door.

When they returned downstairs to the kitchen, Jamie immediately went about setting up a kettle on the stove to boil.

“You know, you don’t have to spook him for my sake,” Dani said, watching Jamie comfortably move about in her own kitchen.

Jamie chuckled, “He’ll be all right. Gives back just as good as I give him, believe me.”

“You mean like all those Star Trek reruns he subjects you to?” Dani said, grinning.

Jamie groaned. “This entire week’s been a nightmare. You’d have thought it was the World Cup last Monday, and I bet it’ll be the same tomorrow,” she said, “Absolute torture, I’m telling you.”

“I’m sure,” Dani said, chuckling.

At the sound of the floor creaking behind them, they both turned to see Mikey standing in the entrance to the kitchen, fidgeting with his hands and looking just as anxious as he’d been that day Dani first spoke to him about his math homework.

“Christ, took you long enough,”Jamie said, “What were you hiding from? The boogeyman?”

“Maybe,” Mikey said with a pointed scowl at Jamie who snorted.

Just barely refraining from rolling her eyes, Dani smiled gently down at him, and said, “Hi.”

Catching her eyes, Mikey’s scowl immediately evaporated into a shy anxious grin. “Hi, Miss Clayton,” he said.

“How’s your weekend been?”

He shrugged noncommittally, his eyes flickering away to the floor. “Was okay,” he said, and then twisted his face around as if thinking something through with a great deal of effort before meeting her eyes again and adding hesitantly, “How was yours?”

“I could say the same,” she said, and leaned forward just a little as if divulging a secret, “Though don’t tell Jamie this, but I think it’s gotten a lot better today.”

She was surprisingly pleased when Mikey broke into a grin, and even more so when his face scrunched up in bewilderment, glancing at Jamie dubiously and asked, “Why? Because of her?”

Dani was unable to hold back a snort when Jamie huffed behind her. “Y’know, unless you want the boogeyman to eat your lunch and bite your head off for dessert, I suggest you help set the table.”

Jumping into action, Mikey did as he was told, grabbing the plates Jamie handed to him and a set of cutlery from a drawer to set on the kitchen table.

“Do you need help?” Dani asked.

“Nope, you’re our guest,” Jamie said, offering Dani a grin over her shoulder, “You just sit right there, and get yourself comfortable.”

With nothing better to do, Dani settled into a chair at the table, resting her chin on her palm and trying not to watch the pair too closely, but it was hard not to. Not with the way Mikey seemed to brighten from the shy boy she was familiar with to one who bickered quietly with Jamie on who got which favored mug. Not with the way they danced around each other with ease, grabbing things from cupboards and drawers to place on the table. But when Mikey rolled his eyes at another one of Jamie’s quips, snickering and jumping away from a well aimed kick to the back of his legs, all at once Dani could see the ghost of a twelve year old Jamie in his soft features, and she had to finally look away.

When they finally settled into their chairs adjacent to Dani, teapot on the table and takeout bag in hand, she helped them distribute the three sandwiches she had bought.

“I wasn’t sure what else to get, so I got us something I remembered you liked,” Dani explained, anxiously watching them unwrap their lunch.

Jamie offered her a grin. “Like I said. Can’t go wrong with Owen’s handiwork,” she said, a glint appearing in her eyes, “But — “

“Oh no,” Dani muttered.

“But,” Jamie repeated, chuckling and opening her sandwich to pull out a pickle that had been peeking out the side, “If I ever see you bring a gherkin into my house again, we’re gonna have some words.”

“Oh,” Dani murmured, her cheeks going warm as Mikey followed suit, leaving the pickles on the side of his plate with an awkward grin. “Sorry. I - um. Guess I forgot.”

“S’alright,” Jamie said, giving the teapot a quick glance before pouring tea in each of their cups, “Next time.”

The thought of a next time sent a thrill down Dani’s spine, her mouth flickering into a pleased smile down at her food, and with a sudden brazenness that surprised even her, Dani reached out to Jamie’s plate to pluck a discarded pickle and eat it. Jamie froze, eyes wide, and laughed.

“Now why do I get the feeling you forgot on purpose?” Jamie said, eyes bright.

“No idea what you’re talking about,” Dani said, shrugging and not meeting Jamie’s eyes.

Jamie laughed again, and without prompting, relinquished both hers and Mikey’s discarded pickles on Dani’s plate with a flourish. Dani caught her eye, grinning in thanks.

Mikey watched this all with a puzzled frown as he poured sugar into his tea before sliding the small container towards Dani. “Um, Miss Clayton, do you want sugar?”

“Yes, thank you,” Dani said with a grin, tossing in a few teaspoons of sugar. “You know,” she started slowly, reaching for the milk to pour in enough until it was the color of pale bark. “You don’t really have to call me that, I’m not your teacher here. You can just call me Dani.”

When she set the milk back down, she caught Mikey looking at her tea with wide eyes just short of aghast and Jamie shaking her head.

“Just ignore it,” Jamie said, “And whatever you do, never accept a brew from her. It’s probably poisoned.”

Dani rolled her eyes and kicked at Jamie under the table who shied away, grinning into her sandwich. When she looked back at Mikey, his face was slightly pained. “Okay - um. Miss Dani,” he said, and at Jamie’s snort he glowered at her.

Dani smiled gently when he bit into his sandwich, chewing roughly. “You know, I’ve always been impressed with your manners,” she said, chuckling when his eyes darted to her in surprise, “I’m just not sure where you’ve gotten them from, ‘cause I know you didn’t get them from Jamie.”

“Oi!” Jamie said. While Mikey had no problems snorting loudly, Dani fought hard to not laugh at the exaggerated look of betrayal on Jamie’s face, biting hard at her lip. “I’ve got plenty manners, thank you very much. Gentlemanly one might say. Perfectly charming.” Dani caught Mikey’s eye and they shared a mischievous grin. “Oh, I see how it is. This is what I get for inviting you over and treating you to my patented Taylor hospitality.” Dani only hummed, hiding her grin as she sipped on her tea. Jamie gave her a dry look and said, “Never again.”

Dani laughed, unable to help herself. A fond grin slowly creeped it’s way on Jamie’s face, shaking her head.

Mikey’s eyes bounced between the two of them curiously, landing on Dani with a small frown. “Miss Cla — Miss Dani?”

“Just Dani is fine.”

Mikey’s face twisted, settling into a stubborn frown, and firmly said, “Miss Clayton — ” Jamie shared a small grin with her out of the corner of her eyes “ — Jamie said you both grew up together.”

“We did,” Dani said, smiling indulgently.

“Did you also know me?”

“She sure did,” Jamie said, smirking. “Changed your diapers and everything.”

Mikey’s eyes immediately went wide and his cheeks red, hiding his face as he returned to his sandwich. When Jamie chuckled, Dani gave her a look. Jamie merely responded with a sheepish shrug.

“Hey, you know that photo on the mantel? The one from Jamie’s birthday?” Dani started, patiently waiting for Mikey to meet her eyes. When he did, curious and nodding, Dani tilted her head, her grin soft. “I took that photo.”

His eyes widened, “Really?” At her nod, he took a bite of his sandwich and chewed thoughtfully, and said with his mouth full, “That’s cool.”

Dani chuckled, and after a brief moment of consideration, she spared Jamie a sly look. “And you know,” she said slowly, grinning when Jamie frowned suspiciously at her. Dani ignored the look and turned back to a curious Mikey. “Jamie was telling me that you’re a big Star Trek fan.”

Jamie froze. “Dani.”

Dani continued to ignore her, her grin wide as Mikey’s eyes lit up, straightening in his seat. “Yeah! Are you one too?”

“Dani — “ Jamie tried again, her voice pained.

“I used to watch reruns of the original, and the weird cartoon they made.”

“I have the VHS tapes for all the movies!” Mikey said, “I even taped the new show last week, have you seen it?”

“I haven’t actually,” Dani said, enjoying the horror creeping on Jamie’s face way too much as Mikey seemed to nearly bounce in his seat with newfound energy. “Is it any good?”

“It’s amazing, do you — “ he paused, seeming to slow down, a sudden shyness overtaking him, “Do you wanna watch?”

“Christ, not again,” Jamie groaned, burying her face in one hand, rubbing at her forehead, resignation settling heavy on her shoulders.

Dani laughed, and said, “I’d love to.”

At the rate Mikey finished his sandwich and tea, lunch was quickly over. Before Jamie could get a word edged in, Mikey shot up from his seat, grabbed their empty plates and cups to dump in the sink, rushed out a breathless, “Thank you for lunch, Miss Clayton,” before dashing into the living room to set up the tv.

Left alone to bask in the aftermath of Mikey’s hurricane of excitement, Dani leaned her elbows on the table, pulling her lips between her teeth to hide her smile as Jamie stared at her. “I’m beginning to think you may be the devil in disguise,” Jamie said dryly. Dani laughed again, unable to help herself as Jamie grumbled under her breath, standing to step towards the sink. “Laughs at me, she does. Who knew human suffering was just a barrel of laughs.”

Shaking her head, Dani stood and followed Jamie to the sink as she opened the tap, nudging Jamie’s shoulder with her own. It earned Dani a grin, the terse edges of Jamie’s mouth gone, leaving only indulgent fondness that seemed to strike hard at Dani’s chest, leaving her somewhat breathless.

“You’re going to be the death of me,” Jamie said, handing Dani a cloth.

Dani slowly took it, carefully avoiding Jamie’s hand, and said, “I promise to go easy on you from now on.”

A curious look crossed Jamie’s face, one that Dani didn’t have time to decipher before Jamie was grinning crookedly again. “Best not to make promises you can’t keep," she said, and winked.

Feeling her stomach twist, Dani matched her grin and they both set about cleaning the dishes. Jamie washing and Dani drying in companionable silence, Jamie’s shoulder and arm occasionally brushing up against Dani’s, warm to the touch. Dani wore a soft grin the entire time. When they were done, Jamie dug through her fridge and pulled out two bottles of beer, offering one to Dani, only to shrug when Dani shook her head no, replacing one back.

“I am definitely going to need this if I’m going to survive the next hour and a half,” Jamie said, popping open a bottle.

Dani blinked. “An hour and a half?”

Jamie snorted, pointing the bottle towards Dani. “You made your bed,” she said, taking a hefty swig.

Making their way to the living room, Mikey was already set up in the middle of the couch, legs crossed with a remote in hand while the big boxy tv set up on the other side of the room was paused, the screen flickering over a distorted image. Jamie collapsed on one side of Mikey, lounging back with an arm resting on the back of the couch, and her legs stretched out on the coffee table, one leg crossed over the other. Dani meanwhile, sat gingerly on the other side of Mikey, stiffly sinking into the soft blue cushions, her shoulder resting inches away from Jamie’s hand.

Jamie sighed. “All right, let’s get this over with.”

Mikey knocked his arm into Jamie’s rib. Grunting, Jamie retaliated by flicking his ear. Mikey swiped her hand away, huffing before turning to Dani, and asked, “Ready?”

Chuckling at the sibling antics, Dani nodded. “Ready.”

Dani settled in as Mikey excitedly pressed play, the screen coming to life as planets flew by and familiar music began to play. Dani’s mouth slowly curled into a warm smile. It was as though she absorbed Mikey’s excitement, anticipation buzzing at her skin, nostalgia draping over her like a warm cloak. The memories of curling up next to her dad as they sat through another rerun together weren’t unexpected, but they did spread a warm and somber fondness through her. Her smile faltered just slightly.

As Mikey murmured along to the intro under his breath, Dani felt eyes on her. Flicking her gaze to her right, she was met with Jamie staring at her with gentle concern. When Jamie arched a questioning eyebrow, Dani shook her head and smiled. Jamie stared for a moment longer, before returning her eyes to the tv, taking a sip of her beer. Dani kept her gaze fixed on Jamie for just a second longer, studying her profile, before returning it back to the show, chuckling silently at Mikey’s murmured recitings.

It was strangely easy, to sink further into the cushions, to settle in the comfortable silence with Jamie and Mikey, curtains closed to block the glare of the evening light and swinging gently in the breeze. To share another grin with Jamie as a man in out of place medieval looking clothes appeared on screen, Jamie’s feet rocking back and forth. To chuckle when Jamie received another elbow to the ribs as she sipped her beer after muttering a “Cheers, mate,” when the aforementioned man decried human civilization, and Mikey muttered back, “Stop being embarrassing."

Dani got lost in the warmth of it, taken in with Jamie’s teasing and soft grins, and Mikey’s shy eyes and barely restrained eagerness. A slow ache creeping across her chest, pulling apart the fragile seams that held together the longing for what could have been as Mikey, over time, relaxed deeper and deeper on the couch, pulling his knees up to his chest as he slowly leaned his back against Jamie. Dani carefully observed them when he rested his head against Jamie’s shoulder, her heart swelling as Jamie’s eyes slowly drifted down to Mikey relaxing against her side, her face softening in the diffused evening light, a corner of her mouth curling into a faint smile. As though feeling Dani’s gaze on her, Jamie’s eyes darted up and caught her own. Dani’s grin widened as Jamie fondly rolled her eyes, turning back to the tv.

When the episode drew to a close, a pair of giant space jellyfish reunited once more to the sound of Jamie’s exasperated sighs, Mikey turned back to Dani, eyes bright and eager with questions; if she enjoyed it, what were her favorite parts, who was her favorite character? Dani laughed and answered as best as she could while Jamie left them to it, retrieving another beer from the fridge before returning to listen quietly as Dani and Mikey discussed the episode. But when Mikey began enthusiastically planning for next Sunday, Jamie nudged him in the shoulder with a tisk.

“Don’t go making plans without asking the lady first,” Jamie said.

“Oh,” Mikey murmured, looking up at Dani, his eyes shy again. “Do you want to come back next week to watch the next episode, Miss Clayton?”

Dani softened under the stare of his brown eyes, aware that Jamie was watching with a careful blank expression. “I’d love to,” Dani said, and grinned at him, “Only as long as you call me Dani from now on when I’m here.”

Mikey made a face, and finally relented with a nod. Pleased, Dani glanced back up at Jamie whose face was still curiously blank for a moment before she cleared her throat, and said, “Reckon I should get you home in time for dinner then.”

Dani froze. “Oh,” she said, struck by the reminder that there was an entire world that existed outside Jamie’s house that she needed to return to. She swallowed against the discomfort rising in her throat, her mouth flickering with a faint smile. “Guess you’re right.”

Jamie shot her another grin before rising to her feet, ruffling Mikey’s hair and disappearing back into the kitchen. Dani stood, hands fidgeting as she grinned down at Mikey. “Well, it was good to see you,” she said.

“You too,” he replied softly, just a touch of that anxious tension returning to his shoulders now that there was no longer the topic of Star Trek to play as a buffer between them.

Dani forced her smile to relax as Jamie returned sans beer bottle, hands tucked into her jeans again as she stood waiting. “I’ll see you tomorrow at school, okay?” Dani said, offering him one last grin, “I really enjoyed watching the show with you.”

Mikey’s smile brightened slightly. “Me too,” he said. “See you tomorrow.”

She left him with one last small wave, and let Jamie quietly guide her towards the front door where Dani slipped on her shoes.

“Thank you,” Dani said softly, “For having me.”

Jamie grinned crookedly. “My pleasure,” she said, and her shoulders bunched up an inch, that same uneasiness from earlier edging its way into the lines of her face.

Dani hesitated briefly, and said, “He really seems to enjoy it. Sharing it with you.” Jamie’s eyes softened, and she ducked her head to hide it. Heartened at the unexpected shyness, Dani risked adding, “Try to go easy on him.”

Jamie snorted, but nodded all the same. “You don’t have to come watch again, you know. Honestly. God knows I’m already plagued with this obsession of his, don’t need that on your plate any more than I do.”

“I want to,” Dani said, firmly enough that Jamie’s mouth snapped shut, blinking in surprise, “I had fun.”

“All right,” Jamie murmured, a slow warm smile brightened her face.

“Besides,” Dani continued, “What kind of friend would I be if I disappointed Mikey? If I let you go through that alone?”

“So I passed the test?”

Dani’s brow furrowed at the question. “The test?”

“We’re friends again?”

It was like something slammed into Dani’s chest, the way her breath escaped her. A thickness grew in Dani’s throat, her muscles twitching to move, and before she knew what she was doing, she was stepping closer, being pulled in like gravity until her arms were wrapping around Jamie’s tense shoulders and she was pressing her face against the soft flannel fabric of her shoulder. It was like a shock to her system, having Jamie in her arms again, like being jolted back to life.

“Of course we’re friends,” she murmured, nearly breathless, and after what felt like ages, Jamie’s arms wrapped around her, encompassing her waist and pulling her in close. Dani exhaled slowly, her breath unsteady as she felt Jamie’s shoulders relax, sinking into the hug with a sigh of her own. Distantly, Dani wondered if Jamie could hear Dani’s pounding heart. If she could feel the tremble in her hands as they pressed against Jamie’s firm back.

She closed her eyes and sank further into it, digging her hands into Jamie’s shirt and breathing her in. The smell of the earth and fresh laundry detergent hidden under Jamie’s preferred sandalwood cologne both comforting and familiar that Dani could’ve smiled into the crook of Jamie’s neck, if only it weren’t for the thickness of her throat. It twisted tight at her stomach until she finally lowered her arms, head ducked.

Jamie released her immediately, stepping away and clearing her throat. “Right,” she said gruffly, not meeting Dani’s eyes as she raked a hand through her hair, ruffling it up into an unruly mess.

Dani swallowed hard and smiled weakly at the flyaways she itched to smooth down. Instead, she met Jamie’s eyes and said, “I - um. I should go.”

Jamie nodded. “Yeah,” she said, but when Dani reached to twist the lock open and pull open the door to march out, Jamie chuckled. “Where do you think you’re off to?”

Dani spun around to give her a confused frown. “To dinner at Judy’s?”

“And you were just gonna walk all the way across town?” When Dani merely blinked at her, Jamie laughed and began shoving her feet into her boots. “Haven’t you heard? There’s boogeymen about these parts. Can’t risk letting you get snatched on the street.” Just as she stepped out the door, she turned to shout back into the house. “Be back in a minute, don’t burn the house down.”

“No promises!” Dani heard Mikey call back immediately, like it was a thing they said often.

Dani grinned at the fond roll of Jamie’s eyes as she locked the front door, and the wide gesture towards her green truck, as if motioning towards a carriage and horse. “After you,” Jamie said.

The drive back was quiet save for the radio playing low on some rock station. Feeling brazen again, Dani turned the dial towards the same station Carson had set in her own car.

“No one said you could touch that,” Jamie said, mirth in her voice. Dani merely hummed in response with a satisfied impish grin, leaning back in her seat.

When Jamie finally pulled up to Dani’s childhood home, she set the truck in park and offered Dani a grin. “Well, thanks for lunch.”

“Thanks for tea.”

Jamie grinned. “Next Sunday, then?”

Just as Dani began to nod, the door to the car parked in front of the O’Mara’s house swung open, and out stepped Eddie, as though he’d been waiting the entire time for Dani to return. Her stomach sank, heavy like lead. Even from this distance, Dani could see a puzzled frown shadow his face as he caught sight of Jamie’s truck.

Jamie exhaled slowly. “Best get on with it then, right? Say my hellos.”

“Sure,” Dani said distantly.

Pausing for a moment, Jamie snorted. “Think he’s still angry I accidentally set his homework on fire that one time?”

Dani laughed at the memory, and shook her head. “We’re not in high school anymore. I think he got over that years ago.”

The look Jamie gave her was dubious. “I’m putting my life in your hands here,” she said, but when Dani ignored her plight, stepping out of the truck and taking a deep breath, she heard Jamie mutter, “Christ, here we go.”

Eddie’s eyes lit up when he caught sight of her, stepping forward to pull her in a hug but stopped short when he spotted who followed Dani out of the truck, his eyes wide. “Jamie,” he said, blinking, and chuckled breathlessly. “Wow. It’s been a while.”

As Jamie stepped towards them, Eddie held his hand out. Jamie shook it just once before returning hers to her side as Dani felt Eddie’s arm wrap around her waist to gently pull her in close.

“Ed,” Jamie said, wearing that same placid smile she wore for Judy at the bistro. Eddie pulled Dani a little closer, his mouth tightening. “Long time no see.”

“Yeah,” he said, “Mom and Carson mentioned you were back in town. Dad even said he caught you down at the hardware store the other day. Seems like you’ve caught up with just about everyone now.”

Jamie hummed with an affirmative nod. “All but Tweedledum and Tweedledee.”

At Jamie’s old nickname for the elder O’Mara twins, Dani bit back a snort. Even Eddie chuckled. “Yeah, they live out of town. Got families of their own now,” he explained, and fell silent, seemingly not knowing what else to say.

“Good to hear,” Jamie said in the ensuing silence, her eyes darting between Dani and Eddie, still wearing that same smile until it morphed into something unfamiliar. “And looks like congratulations are in order for you lot also. Well done.”

Dani’s stomach clenched anxiously, hands slowly balling into fists by her side as Eddie’s smile brightened, pulling her in closer by the waist. “Thanks. We appreciate that,” he said.

Jamie smirked. “Well, look at you both. North Liberty’s very own royal couple.”

Eddie chuckled, but Dani stiffened. She didn’t know how to respond to that, not with the way Jamie carefully eyed her, her gaze piercing. Dani decided to ignore it, to let her mouth pull into a small smile that strained her cheeks. “Jamie and I were just catching up over tea and lunch,” she explained to Eddie.

“Sounds nice,” Eddie said, “How’re things going for you now that you’re back?”

Jamie shrugged. “Nothing to complain at home about,” she said, “Got my job at the gardens, Mikey’s top of his class, and I’ve been officially offered an open invitation to dinner at your mum's whenever I find the time.”

Eddie blinked, his voice faintly strained when he said, “Oh, uh. You’re coming to dinner today?”

“Not today, I’m afraid,” Jamie said, and shot Dani a grin, “Promised the kid pizza tonight.”

“Well,” Eddie cleared his throat, gesturing towards Jamie with a polite smile. “We should let you get to it, then. Right, sweetheart?”

Hearing the term of endearment felt like being underwater, the words muffled and deformed in her ears. Her smile was just a second delayed, pulled taut as she glanced up at Eddie. “Right,” she said, exhaling slowly as she returned her gaze to Jamie, immediately catching her eyes.

Nodding, Jamie’s mouth pulled into a thin smile, the breeze whipping her hair and flannel. “Good to see you again,” she said.

“You too,” Eddie replied.

Jamie shot her one last look, smile softened and faint, taking a step back and starting to turn away. Just as Dani began to feel the tug of Eddie’s hand on her waist, she reached her hand out to grab Jamie’s.

“Hey,” Dani said, tugging Jamie to a stop who blinked in surprise as their eyes met. Dani opened her mouth to speak, but for what felt like an eternity nothing came out, until finally Dani said, “Don’t be a stranger, okay?”

The warm affection that bloomed in Jamie’s eyes nearly knocked Dani off her feet. “Wouldn’t dream of it,” Jamie murmured, squeezing her hand just once before easing it out of Dani’s with an easy grin, taking another step back, the wind ruffling her hair, and the golden light of the evening sun glowing on her skin as she turned away.

#thobm #the haunting of bly manor #damie #dani clayton/jamie #dani clayton #jamie taylor #roman writes #cfau #bring home a haunting

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