#we shall get to you ch 3 and your panic/sweetness. worry not

[stray-crow]

today's word count: 277

December's Goal: 1473/7502

WIP(s): Shaking Kevin in a Bottle

[sethrine-writes]

I Will Fight This War For You (Hold On), Ch. 3

Pairing:  Connor x  Female Reader

Words:  4387

Chapter Warning:  Crime Scene, Minor Character Death, Minor Character Injury, Mild Angst

Story Summary: “Our choices define us. Don’t let them tear you in two.”

Your investigation into the string of deaths of both humans and androids takes a drastic turn when a victim is purposely left alive. The killer’s intent is the same, to prove a point you have yet to figure out. The change, however, is the power of choice.

Stress and exhaustion lead you astray as you and Connor are both thrust into a war between the mind and the heart. You can only hope everyone involved makes it out alive.

IMPORTANT A/N:   This is a repost of a DBH fic I started over a year ago in response to a challenge a friend of mine posted up, at the time. I’ve also gone through and edited/cleaned up each chapter for a better reading experience! I’ll be posting a chapter or two every day until I’ve posted all current chapters, and then I’ll be updating with a brand new chapter for the first time in nearly a year!

Inspired by the song Torn In Two by Breaking Benjamin.

------

Chapter 3 - Embrace the Life of Tragedy

Connor had insisted he drive to the scene with the promise of stopping once more by your favorite coffee shop for actual coffee. He wasn’t surprised that you had taken the offer; you would have let him drive, regardless, but a little extra incentive only ensured any bullheadedness on your part wouldn’t dissuade you.

He was even less surprised to find that you had promptly fallen asleep as soon as you had gotten comfortable, head leaned against the seat belt holding you in place and hands limply folded in your lap as you snored lightly.

A deep frown etched its way across his face with each worried glance he took.

He couldn’t help but fret over your clear exhaustion and how it was affecting you. You had been avoiding the issue for some time, roughly a week, and each day without proper rest only left you drained, slow, and even harder to reason with. Stubbornness was a natural trait, but your complete lack of self-care and any attempts at others helping you being met with full-force resistance was becoming a problem that was difficult to work around.

The investigation was eating away at you, consuming you so completely that it was taking away your sleep, stressing you to the max. At the rate you were going, if Connor couldn’t figure out a way to get you to at least take a full day of rest, it was only a matter of time before your body shut itself down.

Whether you realized it or not, you were on the fast track of killing yourself in a slow, agonizing way.

His grip tightened against the wheel, jaw clenching as he willed the thought away. It was too distracting, too extreme of a notion for him to brood about on top of everything else going on. There was no time for what-ifs, especially when there was a crime scene awaiting their presence, a full-on investigation waiting for them to solve.

Connor sighed, if only to feel the motion and release the tension in his shoulders.

In truth, thinking that way made him feel something he couldn’t describe completely, only knowing that it was an ache that almost felt physical, crushing and deep. The longer he thought about it, the more it made a sense of panic rise within him, a restless fear making itself known and becoming stronger the longer his mind reeled.

To lose you to something so trivial, to something that could easily be prevented-

To lose you-

Flashing lights pulled him out of his thoughts, the multiple police cars coming into view a sign that he had arrived at the correct destination without even realizing it. He parked near the curb just ahead of the other vehicles, hand reaching for the key and hesitating.

He looked over to your sleeping form, watched as your chest slowly lifted and fell with your deep, even breaths. In total, the car ride hadn’t been any longer than fifteen minutes, not nearly enough time for you to even enter a steady REM sleep. If anything, waking you would do nothing but progress your stress level, of which was much, much too high, already. Had you not been the resilient sort, you would have surely already crumbled. It was a wonder how you kept yourself going.

Leaving you in the car wasn’t an option, unfortunately, not one that would end well, should you miss out on key details with your own eyes. Though he would much rather you be mad at him for letting you sleep, he knew how important this whole thing was to you, could see just how tirelessly you were working to ensure no detail was missed, neglecting your own health in favor of upturning every stone for any sliver of information that would help solve the investigation.

It almost pained him to completely turn off the car and reach for you, shaking you gently by the shoulder. There was barely a moment of contact before you were breathing in suddenly and popping up, eyes blearily looking around before you reached up to aggressively rub at them to clear your sight. Anxious, even in sleep, enough that any slight touch easily pulled you back to the waking world.

“We here?” you asked, words slightly raspy from your short slumber.

“Yes, we just arrived,” he answered softly, earning a sleepy grin. He returned the gesture, but if his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes, you couldn’t seem to tell.

“Thanks for driving, Connor. Not sure if I would’ve been able to focus completely. My eyes have been so weird, lately.”

“Of course, it was no trouble,” he answered.

“Let's get this over with, shall we?”

Connor watched as you unbuckled and reached for the door handle before stepping out, frowning once more at your resilient, stubborn nature.

The coffee he had promised you, or lack thereof, hadn’t been mentioned, and Connor wasn’t sure if he was more relieved or concerned at the realization.

---

“Hey, Stella,” you greeted the officer standing by with a strained grin, tired eyes taking in the outside of the building you were called to.

It was a rundown complex, most likely having been in the works to become apartments, but it was apparent construction had ceased a long time ago, and what had already been built was left behind in favor of bigger projects in much more sustainable, profitable areas. It was definitely the perfect place to commit a murder; secluded, empty, and easily ignored by everyday travelers.

Stella greeted you both politely, giving a nod as incentive to move through the yellow holographic police line that barred the public, should there be any, from crossing into the scene of a crime. She was a sweet girl, kind almost to a fault, a bit stiff with her speech, but still one hell of a policewoman. After the revolution, she had been one of the first androids, outside of Connor, to be hired on at the DPD. It had taken several months of absolute garbage paperwork, but you, as well as a good percentage of the precinct, were happy to have her on board.

“He couldn’t have picked a better place to torture his victims,” you muttered, gaze roaming back to Stella. “Any recent details come up?”

“Only one victim has been found and identified as Braxton Hughes, age thirty-two, discovered by a squatter, who frequents the building, approximately one hour and forty-six minutes ago. I’ve heard nothing more regarding the scene.”

“Has Lieutenant Anderson arrived yet?” Connor asked, earning somewhat of a frown from Stella. That was never a good sign, especially from her, and it had you instantly anxious.

“Unfortunately, Lieutenant Anderson was on another call and has yet to arrive.”

“Are we the first detectives on the scene, then?” you questioned next, feeling your stomach twist unpleasantly at the hesitant shake of Stella's head.

“I’m afraid an attempt to contact you was…dismissed briefly by Captain Fowler in favor of allowing another able detective to take charge. I…I may have contacted Connor, regardless.”

At least you could count on Stella to keep you in the loop. But the way she was avoiding telling you who exactly was on the scene filled you with dread. You already knew, it was incredibly obvious, but you wanted to be sure. You wanted to be wrong.

“Who's in there, Stella?”

She hesitated again, lips parting, but voice unheard. She looked to you, then Connor, then looked straight ahead to avoid your intense stare.

“I believe he sent Detective Reed-"

“Son of a bitch,” you groused under your breath, rushing into the building as the feeling of dread and anger built within you. Connor muttered a curse behind you, his steps quick as he followed you down the long hallway toward the scene of the crime.

“Wait!”

He reached out and tried to slow you down, restrain you with a grip on your arm, but you pulled away quickly and stepped beyond the second to last entrance on the left where yet another officer was on stand-by. Connor made no other move to stop you this time, but remained close, knowing that there was a possibility things could go bad.

Your eyes roamed over the scene, picking up bits and pieces that had a very similar look to the previous case that Anthony was involved in. Your focus, however, directed itself to the crouched detective in front of the dead victim bound to a chair. Your anger simmered to the surface as you stomped toward your target.

“Gavin!”

You were inwardly pleased to see the mouthy detective jump up from his crouch, looking momentarily bewildered. That was before his expression smoothly transitioned into a smirk, gloved hands folding across his chest. You hated that such a simple look had you practically seething.

“Well, well, well, look who showed up! I gotta say, I thought you had more exciting things on your agenda, since you weren’t here, and all.”

He was baiting you, as he always did. It was as if Gavin never fully enjoyed himself unless he was pissing off others in some way. You ignored his half-assed attempt of riling you up for the time being in favor of getting straight to the point.

“What the hell are you doing here, Reed? This isn’t your investigation, last time I checked, and you damn well know it.”

“Calm down,” he drawled, unfazed by your outburst, “I was the only one available when the call came in. Can’t get pissy if no one else on your team was around to do the job.”

“How did anyone know I wasn’t available if I never got the call, huh? Connor didn’t even get a call, not until your trigger-happy ass was already on scene, apparently.”

“Last I heard, you and your boy toy were supposed to be running around with plastic dignitaries all day,” Gavin mocked, eyes narrowed in distaste. You glared right back with equal disgust at his words, forgetting you were supposed to be taking the high road. It wasn’t professional in the least, fighting over the corpse of a man who, most likely, didn’t deserve to die, but you couldn't…wouldn't…back down, not when you had done so every time before.

Gavin had given you more than enough reason in the past to fight against him, and you didn't, finding that you had far better things to do than take the bait he so flauntingly held before you. Your job was more important than petty arguments and one-sided rivalries. This time, however, you were just tired enough to not give a damn; to hell with the consequences!

“So, you suggested to Fowler to let you on site of a case pertaining to my investigation instead of even attempting to contact me, is that it?”

“Well, while you’re out playing around, some of us are actually trying to solve murder cases. You know, saving lives, and all?”

“Like you really care,” you spat, fingers curling against your palm, your insides trembling with the need for action. “You’re only interested in gaining approval through backhanded means! Can’t be bothered with petty crimes, don’t care if you have to undermine others, so long as you’re up Fowler’s ass and getting all the recognition you don’t deserve!”

Gavin scoffed, and rolled his eyes, your fists shaking at your sides. You were hardly aware of the other people in the room, several officers taking cautious interest at your heated exchange, Connor immediately behind you as you stepped closer, all waiting for something more to happen. It had been a long time coming, and your usually squashed down frustration and contempt were beginning to completely override your system.

“That's real rich, coming from you,” Gavin egged on, unaware -possibly uncaring- of the tight rope he was walking. “You think you’re some special snowflake because you had a hand in this android-revolt shit. And now what? You play secretary for a bunch of tin cans, as if what you do even matters! Bet it really bothers you, knowing that you’re only something because a couple of plastic pricks figured out how to use you like the puppet you are-"

You didn’t bother listening to the rest of what Gavin had to say. As it was, you barely had control of your own actions; your fist was already flying through the air before you registered you were even moving, and it wasn’t until the satisfying feeling of your knuckles slamming home into Gavin's face that you realized Connor had called your name in an attempt to stop you.

All at once, people were in a frenzy to quell the confrontation. Connor had immediately wrapped his arms around you as you struggled against him, all practical sense gone in favor of wanting to get at Gavin, to direct your overflowing rage onto him. Several officers had stepped between you and Gavin as he made a ruckus, cursing and holding the side of his face with anger.

“Get her the fuck out of here!”

Connor had already begun backing out of the room, ensuring the officers watching that he would be able to handle you, even as you fought him with flailing limbs and sharp words.

“Let me go, Connor! Let me fucking go!” you shouted, attempting to lunge out of his arms with sharp, thrashing movements. His grip on you was firm, however, and within seconds, he had you halfway back down the hall as you shouted and continued to fight his grasp.

“Calm down! This isn’t like you, at all!”

Connor’s loud, deep voice registered through your haze of infuriation, and almost as quickly as you had lashed out, you were still in his arms. Your breaths were ragged and deep, brows furrowing in mild confusion at your own actions.

What in the world had you done?

“I don't…I don’t know what came over me,” you rasped, legs shaking as the adrenaline from your encounter with Gavin began to dissipate rapidly. You could feel Connor’s hold relax around your body, though his arms remained holding you for the time being, afraid that you might make a run for Gavin, should he let go.

“You lost control, in there,” he said, not meaning for his words to come out in such an admonishing tone. If anything, he was more shocked that you had acted out in such a way, especially since you were easily able to deflect Gavin's usual mocking and snide comments. “What were you thinking?”

“I don’t know…I wasn’t,” you said quietly, voice sounding small, even in your own ringing ears. With the adrenaline having run its course, you could feel the heated sting of your hand where you had punched Gavin, the knuckles swollen and red. There were a lot of things you could feel without the numbing rush of contempt clouding your judgement, such as the prominent burn in your dry, tired eyes, the pounding ache in your skull, the building churn of your stomach climbing higher and higher-

“Connor, let me…I think I’m gonna be sick.”

Connor released you at the first weak pull against his arms, and you immediately rushed toward the exit, only making it as far as the steps leading to the second story before the meager contents of your stomach were suddenly on the floor. You sucked in air sharply, spitting the bile from your mouth as you attempted to keep any dry heaving at bay with careful breaths. The gentle pressure of a hand at your back almost startled you, causing you to tremble and let out a soft noise of distress.

“You're ill,” Connor stated, large brown eyes studying you carefully, analyzing.

“I'm alright,” you assured, spitting one last time and taking in a deep, steadying breath. There was the barest pain in your stomach, and you cursed yourself for jinxing the idea of an ulcer earlier at the park. It was more a probability, ironic as it was, and getting so worked up was only going to exacerbate the issue.

“You are not alright,” Conner countered, eyes narrowing as his voice slowly gained traction. “Your stress level has been at a near-constant ninety-three percent all week, well above average, and definitely above the safe range. You’re not sleeping; you’re actively avoiding sleep, with highly increased intake of caffeine-"

“Connor,” you called out quietly, though he seemed to not have heard you as he continued his rant, voice escalating in volume and his L.E.D. spinning yellow.

“-have you even eaten anything substantial, recently? Have you done anything for yourself that didn’t revolve around this investigation? Your vitals are in a constant state of fluctuation that isn’t remotely healthy for a woman your age-"

“I get it, Connor, I do-"

“No, you don't!” he shouted suddenly, hands coming up to grasp at your upper arms. His grip was tight, almost desperate, and his eyes were alight with panic as he crowded your space.

“You can’t possibly understand that what you're doing is killing you, and I can't allow…I can't….”

Connor's voice wavered until he became quiet, blinking rapidly as he came back to himself. The panic was replaced by concern and guilt, his eyes roving over your trembling form before quickly letting go of you. He took two steps back, giving you space as he looked to his outstretched hands, the guilt becoming more prominent the longer he gazed at his palms.

“I'm sorry, I…I shouldn’t have grabbed you like that,” he murmured, meeting your wide eyes as you continued to stare at him.

It was your turn to be shocked at Connor's outburst. Since knowing him, you had only ever seen him this worked up when trying to deny his deviancy. Since fully accepting the notion, he had eased into understanding his emotions with careful consideration, explored what he was feeling when appropriate and asking questions when able.

For the first time, Connor had lost control, and it was so unbelievably human of him that it left you speechless.

The silence between you was deafening and heavy. You were both conflicted, unable to decide the next course of action.

 “H-hElP….”

Your gaze shifted to the side, head turning at the quiet voice that sounded in your ear, almost too quiet to pick up on, and yet, you still heard it. Maybe…maybe Connor was right to lash out like he had. Maybe you were starting to hallucinate, hearing things in your sleep-deprived state, like weird, static-filled voices calling out for-

 “Help, someone…pl-pLeAsE….”

You turned to look at Connor, who had also turned toward the voice. His gaze fell back on you, expression changing from surprised to serious within seconds.

“Did you-?”

“Get behind me,” he ordered, reaching for the gun he kept holstered and hidden along his torso and aiming it before him. All previous apprehension was forgotten as the situation changed drastically, mind easily slipping into work mode.

You followed behind Connor as he moved forward, reaching for your own gun you kept holstered at your belt…only to curse at realizing you had left the damn thing in the glove compartment of your car, like a novice. You were definitely suffering from your inability to slow down on the case if you were forgetting something as vital as your gun. At least Connor was always prepared.

He led the way into the room straight across from the stairs, the door having long been pulled from the hinges. From what you could initially see in the dark, the area looked absolutely wrecked, the floor above having somewhat collapsed to leave behind piles of debris across the floor. Connor slowly maneuvered through the mess of wood, concrete, and sheetrock without any hindrance from the surrounding darkness, gaze alert for any possible signs of movement as you trailed a bit behind, fumbling into your coat pocket for your cell phone.

“Hello? Is anyone here?” you called out, turning on the flashlight setting to better see in front of you. “We’re with Detroit Police. If you can hear me, please say something.”

There was a moment of tense quiet before a voice, warbling with static interference, spoke once more, sounding off from your right.

“Please…pLeAsE hElP us!”

Connor cursed as you darted toward the voices without hesitation, calling out to you as you ducked under some shifty looking debris that immediately crumbled after you pushed through it. You let out a surprised shout, coughing a bit at the rise of dust and almost blanching as your stomach turned in warning. There was no time for that, not when someone was in need of your help.

“Damnit! Are you alright?” Connor shouted, fear lacing his voice as he attempted to find another route into the room you had inadvertently found yourself in.

“I'm fine, I'm good,” you answered, hoping that it eased him somewhat.

You straightened and steadied your phone before you, sweeping the light shining from it slowly through the area with bated breath. It was as you passed a particularly large mess of material that you noticed the slightest movement. You paused, wiping at your eyes to make sure it wasn’t a trick of the mind, but the movement continued. It was a hand, waving slowly in the air before disappearing behind what looked like a large metal support beam.

“Connor, I found someone,” you shouted abruptly, rushing forward and falling to your knees as you came upon not one, but two people hiding amongst the destruction. There was a woman, unconscious with an unhealthy pallor, who was being held protectively close within the embrace of an android, if the blue blood coming from his nose was any indication. He looked startled, a little beat up, as one of his arms looked busted and limp at his side.

He…he was the same model as Josh. It made your heart lurch within your chest.

“Shit, I need paramedics in here!”

“Stella is alerting them, now. They’ll be in momentarily,” you heard Connor grunt out, the sound of shifting rubble indicating he was ensuring a clear path to your location.

With a steadying breath, you leaned in closer and began to assess the damages carefully, watching as a dark arm trembled around the woman, most likely in fear. You hoped you could at least calm him in some way, placing a soothing hand against his tense forearm while speaking clearly, calmly.

“My name is Detective (Y/n) (L/n); I'm with the Detroit Police Department. Can you tell me your name?”

“WiLl,” was warbled out in answer, his vocal module most likely having been damaged in some way. “Please, h-hElP her.”

“I’ve got paramedics coming in, they're right outside,” you comforted him, already hearing the rushed approach of footsteps as Connor directed them in through the initial entrance.

You reached forward to take hold of the woman's slack arm with careful movements, letting Will know your intent was to check her pulse. You were immediately aware of the heat coming off her skin as well as her strangely slowed heart rate, how she felt clammy to the touch despite the ice cold of winter. You turned her arm in your grasp, noting the dark, prominent map of her veins branching up from her wrist in a macabre display.

Just like the previous victims.

“Can you tell me what happened?”

“He…he took us. KiDnApPeD us. Don’t…don’t know why. He poisoned hEr WiTh blue blood. She sUfFeReD. Had to…get her to sAfEtY. Please, she's dying!”

“Help is here, it's here,” you assured, turning as the illumination of flashlights appeared and came closer. You turned back to Will, finding him in utter relief as one of the paramedics came up beside you on the right, gloved hands reaching out toward the unconscious woman while simultaneously attempting to ease any worries the android may have had.

“Please check Detective (L/n) for any sustained injuries,” Connor spoke up suddenly from your left. You looked to him with confusion, halting one of the paramedics who had begun to look you over, as requested.

“Connor, I'm fine,” you emphasized, though the look he was giving you brought you back several minutes ago to the stairwell, how he had acted out without thought because he was scared-

“You…!”

Turning abruptly, your attention was taken by Will’s intense expression. His eyes were wide as he looked up directly at Connor, his arm squeezing tightly around the woman as a blinding rage took hold of him.

“You tried to kiLl HeR! You won't get to her, again! You won't ToUcH her!”

All at once, time seemed to slow right before your eyes as Will lifted the seemingly limp hand at his side, a gun firmly grasped within it.

Had you a moment to think, you would have surely gone about a different way of redirecting his shot. As it was, you were running on autopilot, hands coming up to grab his wrist as you forced yourself between the weapon and his intended target. There was a sharp click, several shouts of surprise, and for two heart-stopping seconds, you were sure you were dead.

“Detective!”

You looked down with impossibly wide eyes, finding Will's finger pulled tight against the trigger. The gun had gone off without a hitch, but there was no bullet to be shot. The clip was apparently completely empty. Will hadn’t anticipated an empty clip, nor had he anticipated you jumping in front of him. He had acted upon instinct, apparently seeing a threat and attempting to protect the woman in his arms.

“I..I didn't mean to-"

“I think I'll take this, now,” you rasped with an outward rush of air, gently pulling at the gun. Will’s grip released immediately as you took hold of the weapon with shaking hands, moving away as both the paramedics and Stella took over the scene.

Your eyes lingered on the gun in your hands, body letting go of a breath you hadn’t realized you'd been holding. You looked up to your left, finding absolutely terrified brown eyes gazing back at you. Realization hit you like a bag of bricks, so sudden and alarming that you nearly felt your heart stutter in your chest.

The investigation had suddenly taken its biggest turn, yet.

“Connor,” you said slowly, voice low and stuttering slightly. “I think…I think we might know who we're looking for.”

[pernatius]

Lost in Space Part 3: Ch 2

Ch 1

Summary: Sending the Earth to its doom, an unnamed Space Explorer must now try to prevent the demise of millions of humans by risking her life.

Five chapters, 10k works, and in one week.

Part 1: ch 1, ch 2, ch 3, ch 4, ch 5

Part 2: ch 1, ch 2, ch 3, ch 4, ch 5

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

“You what,” both Mikrovos and Ashley shouted at me. Mikrovos had his arms crossed and Ashley placed her working hand on my shoulder. “Are you insane,” Ashley continued. 

“I know it all sounds crazy right now.”

He rolled his eyes before, “Of course it sounds crazy because it is crazy. We just saved you and now you’re out here trying to get yourself killed? Don’t tell me you got your common sense erased too.”

Sure, maybe it’s best that many of my memories have been erased, but they’re my memories. From the good to the downright horrible ones they were mine, but they took them away from me. They just took away a part of me. 

Brushing her hand off of me and taking a step towards Mikrovos, “Well, maybe I wouldn’t have to do any of this if you just sucked it up and did your job. Maybe if you were my actual friend you wouldn’t just shout at me every time I did something stupid because what’s shouting going to do? I did it and there’s nothing you can do about it. You sit on your high chair thinking you’re better than others. That you’re better than me because you say you’re trying to protect people. They’re just words, Mikrovos.” I dig my finger into his chest’s fur.

Pushing my finger off of him, “What are you talking about? I’ve risked my life for you countless times.”

“And you couldn’t just do it one more time?”

“Yes, because if I,” he raises his hands to air quote the next three words, “did my job then we wouldn’t have been able to get the fuel. Last time I was here it didn’t end as nicely as it did with you two.”

“I remember that mission.” Syco with his hands behind his back and a now-healthy Saamuki make their way out of the engine room and towards us. Mikrovos and Ashley tense up. Both of them stand in front of me. Mikrovos points both his fists and horns at him. “As I said with your human earlier, I’m not here for conflict. I’m merely here as a messenger. Well, now add me doing some heavy lifting for you as well.“ 

“Get away from her and out of our ship. Now,” the other Tauvox ordered with a deep growl.

“Of course. This is your ship, but,” he lets out a laugh, “I do find it quite the development you are ordering me. At one point you feared me, but now you’re willing to fight me. I’ll respect your words, but we both know fighting is pointless. If I was really here for the reason you take that offensive stance you would’ve been already dead. All of you would’ve already been dead.”

“I know what you’re trying to do, Syco.”

“Oh?”

“You’re trying to get in our heads like you always do. Like you always did with me.”

“I’m just stating the facts, Mikrovos.” He shrugged. 

“I’ll enter that stupid tournament. Just leave her out of this. Leave her out of our business.”

“No,” I shoved myself into their conversation. “You think I’m fragile. You all think I am. Well, I’m not.”

“This isn’t the time,” Ashley pointed out.

“I’m entering that tournament whether you all like it or not.”

“Humans, Mikrovos. Once they already made up their mind there’s no way of stopping them. Besides, I just put it on the table. She’s the one that wanted a slice, to be part of,” the taller Tauvox raises his hands to air quote the following words, “our business.” 

Ignoring Syco’s mocking, “You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into.” 

“Sure, maybe I don’t, but this is my business. I have to be the one to do this.”

“Well, then I should get going.” As Syco walked past us, Mikrovos turned to me. At first, his eyes showed disappointment but once he looked into my eyes he grew sympathetic. His ears lowered and he was about to say something, but he turned away from me before he could. 

Turning towards Syco, “Wait. Where is it going to be? What time?”

“As long as you don’t do anything to tamper that little chip inside you then you don’t need to worry about receiving the official invitation. Now, with that settled, I’ll be heading off to turn your ‘if’ into a ‘when’, which shouldn’t be too long of a job because it’s like your companion over,” his eyes pointed at Mikrovos, “there said. My words get into people’s heads.”

With that, he left us to ourselves. We were silent. The empty atmosphere had my focus look at my hands. My heart raced as I quickly began to realize what I was getting myself into. I could barely lift that crystal. I don’t know how to fight. All I do know is panic and make awful judgments because of it. So, they’re right. I’m going to get myself killed.

Interrupting us of our thoughts is the AI’s voice. “An incoming message is being transmitted from Cabelo.”

“Cabelo? Shoot. Wait. Don’t-”

The AI reconfigured itself to look like Cabelo, or at least I think that’s him considering how stiff Saamuki became once their eyes met. His face is broad and looks like it’s masked in flames. Three eyes looked into her two eyes. “Saamuki, I did not gift you with that ship just so you can fly around and not do your job. Clients have been asking for you for weeks. Where have you been?” Because of her hesitation and especially how her eyes looked past him and pointed at us, he turns away from her and follows them. None of us knew who he was, so we shouldn’t have become as petrified as Saamuki, but we are. “Who are these people? They don’t look like anyone that could afford you, especially with those rags. What happened to that red one’s shoulder?”

“Cabelo, I can explain.”

“Then, explain.”

My hand scooped the purple sand that laid beneath me and squeezed itself between my crevasses. If it was Earth’s sand I would’ve been uncomfortable, but the sand on this planet is much softer. It’s as soft as marshmallows and it’s even sweet as them. That’s not to say I moved my hand close to my lips and licked the cartoonish rock and mineral particles. Its sweet scent is strong. As soon as we stepped onto the beach, it hit my nose and it’s been filling up my nose since. 

I slowly watched the sand fall off my hand and back onto the beach. The sight is soothing. It should’ve soothed me, but panic still hits me. I’m so stupid. I got myself into this situation, but whatever is coming I deserve it. I’ve caused so much pain. From all the times Mikrovos, Ashley, and Saamuki have risked their lives for me to how the rest of humanity is taking the fault for my actions I have to be the one to stand before the danger with my chest out and head up. I have to be the one this time. 

In the corner of my eye, she takes a seat next to me. “Hey. Are you okay?” Ashley is worried about me. Rightfully so. I haven’t talked to any of them since our conversation with Syco. 

Throwing the rest of the sand down, “Yeah. Of course, I am. Have you heard anything from Saamuki yet?”

“No? Kind of? Mikrovos just got back from eavesdropping and he told me Saamuki’s boss is making her choose between us and her job.”

Speaking of which, “I don’t like how he’s talking to her. I don’t like how he’s treating her. He’s shouting at her like she’s a child.” I raise an eyebrow at him. “Saamuki doesn’t like expressing how she really feels. Talking to her like that is only making her distance herself from her emotions even more.”

“And when did you get to know her so well,” I asked. 

Looking away from us and scratching the back of his head, “While you were away we just got close.”

Ashley and I look at each other. She gives me a puzzled look before I continue, “This is Saamuki we’re talking about. She’s very resilient even if Cabelo is pushing her buttons and speaking of the devil...”

Cabelo and Saamuki step onto the sand and walk towards us. Because she didn’t look weary, I’m not as stressed as Mikrovos is as he glares at her boss. 

Fire and coal pushed against each other to make a humanlike figure. As he walked with her, the chunks of sand he walked on emitted smoke. “You three must be the ones that I saw in her ship not too long ago.”

Mikrovos’ eyebrows etched. His fists clenched at his sides. “And you must be-”

Saamuki places her hand in front of him before he can finish, knowing what he was about to say was going to get the relationship between us and him even more charred. With that, he loosens up, but he’s still making his feelings towards her boss quite obvious. 

“Saaamuki, dear, would you be so kind as to tell your friends the wonderful news?”

Eyes looking away, she explains, “I’m sorry, but I have to stay here.”

As shocked and as hurt as the two of us are, it doesn’t come close to the reaction of my horned friend. “What?” 

In the reflection in her eyes, I saw his eyes water. He’s about to grab her, touch her, but Cabelo places his arm around her shoulder. “Our sweet Saamuki has been through too much. She lost her sister and is now injured. Her hands are burned and will be in pain for some time. It’s in hers and your best interest that she remains in her home rather than with you three,” his grip on her tightens, “Now get along.”

None of us get the chance to change the decision that was made behind closed doors because a couple of guards grab us and lead us away from them. Each of us tries to call out to Saamuki as they roughly handle us, but she looks away. 

We were thrown into Saamuki’s ship. Mikrovos tried running out, but the ship’s door had already closed. Still, he’s determined. He tried banging on the door to open and called forth for the AI. 

After it configures itself, “I am dreadfully sorry, but I have received orders to depart from this planet.”

“But Saamuki is still down there. She’s down there with that creep. Who cares about orders? Don’t you care about her,” I asked frantically.

“Cabelo is the owner of this ship. His orders override everyone else’s orders even those that are friends with my captain.” Hearing this, Mikrovos grunts. The AI ignores his frustration, “Where shall I fly you three to?”

“Take us to the nearest habitable planet from here,” Ashley responded. 

The AI did so without hesitation. As it does, “What are you doing? We’re getting further away from her,” he commented with even more annoyance. 

“Yes, I know, but we can’t be here right now. We have to think things through rather than just jumping into it because not only would it put ourselves at risk but Saamuki as well.” Knowing she’s right, he sits and tries to calm himself down. “Wait a minute,” she turns her attention back to the AI, “does Saamuki have a recurring client?”

“Yes, Captain Saamuki does.”

“Then, take us wherever they are.”

“Understood.”

Ashley made eye contact with me. One by one things piled up in front of us. The look in my eyes told her I know.  

Leaning against the windowsill, I watched her try to rest her hand on his shoulder from their reflection. She retracts her hand long before she can. I then remove my focus from them and move it towards the blurring lines, the stars, moving along the black abyss that is outer space. I sigh. I should be worrying about Saamuki, but I’m too worried about the tournament. I just don’t want to hurt her or anyone else again.

[thislassishooked]

Wake Me Up Inside (3/?)

Please enjoy chapter 3, my lovelies. We’re going to begin diving into Killian’s past now. Thanks so much to my beta @resident-of-storybrooke, the very talented @tennant-the-tigger and of course the awesome moderators at @cssns

Ch 1 Ch 2 AO3

Chapter 3

Emma checked her reflection for the tenth time, taking deep breaths to calm her nerves. Killian was going to be there at any moment and she was slowly coming down from a panic attack. She had already tried several different sweaters on, each one being too frumpy or too light or too heavy, finally settling on a comfy oversized plum colored one paired with skinny blue jeans. She had to keep reminding herself that this wasn’t a date so she shouldn’t worry about making an impression, right? Did he know that this wasn’t a date? Now she was starting to panic again over the fact that she would have to make that clear to him at some point. A couple of loud knocks on her front door drew her out of her irrational thoughts and she set her worries aside for the time being. Running her fingers through her slightly styled tresses, she took one last look at herself and headed out of her bedroom toward the source of the knocking. She took one last breath before unlocking the deadbolt and opening the door. She was glad she had taken that deep breath because the air quickly left her lungs the moment she laid eyes on him. He was wearing a dark blue Henley that made the blue in his eyes pop and deliciously form fitting black jeans.

He raked his eyes over her form and she suddenly felt very self-conscious.

“You look stunning, Swan,” he uttered, sounding adorably awe-stricken.

She smiled at him, biting her lip in the process. The action elicited a return smile and a raise of his eyebrow.

“Shall we?” he asked tilting his head toward a dark blue pick-up parked out front.

“Yeah, I just need to grab my bag and I packed a few snacks.”

He spotted the large basket sitting on her kitchen counter. “A few snacks?” he laughed.

She elbowed him lightly in the gut and he let out an overly dramatic “oomph”

“I didn’t know what you liked, so I got a variety to cover all the bases.”

He reached for her hand and drew it to his lips to brush a very sweet, light kiss just above her knuckles. “That was very thoughtful of you, love,” he said, releasing her hand. “Thank you.”

She smiled sheepishly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. He offered to carry the basket as she locked up and followed him to the truck.

“Nice truck, didn’t think the motorcycle could handle the drive, huh?” she asked cheekily.

“Oh, I know the bike could, but I assure you, your thighs could most certainly not handle it,” he jested, popping the “t” and making her lower abdomen flutter at the obvious innuendo. He opened the door for her and offered his hand to help her into the truck, a smirk firmly in place.

____________________

The first half of the drive was spent playfully arguing over what music to listen to and silly banter. He wanted to listen to 80’s rock music, which she had no problem with of course, but found that it was just too much fun to rile him up. She suggested a country western station simply to see his reaction and when he was just about ready to relent, she couldn’t hold in the laughter anymore. They settled on Green Day, but didn’t end up paying much attention to the music anyway. They fell into easy conversation, mostly over favorite books and movies, but nothing too personal. She didn’t feel quite ready to open up completely to Killian yet and she got the feeling that he felt the same.

As they approached Maldon, Emma fell silent, taking in the scenery. Her eyes darted in all directions. The small Tudor style homes were beautiful, becoming denser as they drew closer to the water. She saw a tall steeple in the distance and realized they were headed right toward it.

“Is that…?” she inquired, pointing in the direction of the steeple.

“All Saints Parish, aye. St. Mary’s is just a few miles down the road as well.” As if sensing her next question he continued. “We’ll drop by both of them before leaving, lass.”

She smiled widely as they navigated the small roads leading to the marina. Emma marveled at the amount of vessels berthed at the Blackwater estuary. Killian pulled up to a booth that was sitting at the entrance to a large parking lot. The heavier set man flashed him a large smile as Killian rolled down the window.

“Good mornin’ to ya, Cap’n Jones. Taking the old girl out to stretch her legs?”

“Aye, it’s been too long, William.”

The man looked past Killian and nodded his greeting to her. She lifted her hand and gave a small wave and a smile.

“And I see ya have a lovely companion this time. The water is calm today, no reports of any storms rollin’ in, have a splendid sail Cap’n.” He handed Killian a tag to hang from his rearview mirror and raised the bar, allowing access.

“Do I have to call you Captain too?” Emma inquired with a chuckle.

Killian turned to face her, a devilish smirk slowly creeping across his face. “Aye, unless you’d prefer the view from the brig of course.”

Emma snorted at that. She knew he wasn’t serious, but wondered if he really had a brig on his boat.

He pulled into a spot and promptly hopped out of the truck to get her door.

“Just like a true gentleman,” she quipped, handing him the basket.

“It’s common courtesy and,” he leaned in close to speak softly into her ear, “I’m always a gentleman,” he retorted with a smirk and a wink. “Unless, of course, the lady would prefer a scoundrel,” he murmured, the smirk still firmly in place. She could feel her face heating slightly and knew she was blushing. She was relieved when he cocked his head in the direction of the marina, motioning her to follow him.

They passed several boats, most with sails that looked like they were used for racing. There were a few motorboats as well as luxury yachts, but Emma was astonished to see that there were a few older, large barges tied to the docks.

“Those are Thames Barges,” he said pointing. “They’re still used today to transport goods back and forth from London.”

They continued walking further down the dock when Emma’s eyes widened in shock. At the end of the dock was a large, renovated pirate ship. They seemed to be walking right toward it and her stomach flipped when he stopped in front of the gangplank leading to the ship.

“Killian,” she gasped, “This is your ship?”

“Aye, this is her.” He tilted his head, apparently trying to read her expression. “Is this not what you were expecting?” he asked deliberately.

Of course she wasn’t expecting a pirate ship and he knew it. She narrowed her eyes at him and pursed her lips. The smug bastard knows exactly what he’s doing to her. “When you said ‘ship’, I figured you were simply trying to make your boat or yacht sound more impressive,” she admitted. “Is she modeled after a specific pirate ship?”

“Actually, she isn’t a model at all. I restored her to her former beauty and before you ask, she did not come with a name.” He hated lying to her, but at least it was true that he had been continually renovating his ship, he just left out the part about how many years he’d been at it. The awestruck expression that overtook her face at his revelation took his breath away.

“This is a real pirate ship.” It wasn’t a question, but she just couldn’t find the words to describe what she was feeling. Killian took her hand in his and lead her up the gangplank. Her breath caught in her throat as she stepped on deck. She counted two masts with three heavy white sails billowing in the wind on each. A bowsprit held two headsails attached to jibs at the bow of the ship, ready to lead them in any direction Killian turned the wheel. Killian had obviously called ahead to have his ship prepared and ready to set sail. “Is this a sloop-of-war?” she asked, remembering her grandfather’s descriptions of some famous pirate ships.

He gazed up at her while pulling up the anchor. He looked amazed at her nautical knowledge and she mentally thanked her grandfather.

“Aye, lass,” he said while climbing a small staircase that led to the helm. “Technically, if we’re not a war, you can call her a brigantine. Have I mentioned what a bloody marvel you are yet today?”

She smiled bashfully at that and slowly followed him, taking her time to thoroughly inspect the vessel. The deck was a dark walnut, about 70 feet long. The outer edges of the ship had been painted a rich navy blue with yellow trim. She leaned over just enough to see that there was a gun deck. “How many gun ports does she have?”

Killian had just begun guiding the ship out of the harbor, his hands firmly grasping the wheel. She froze in place, admiring his form as he effortlessly maneuvered his ship, turning the bow into the wind. The reflection of the sparkling ocean’s surface in the morning sun had made his eyes shine impossibly bluer. Emma was surprised by the speed of the large ship, the marina getting smaller as they headed out into the Blackwater River. She joined him by his side, sharing in the elation that was radiating from his body. She could tell he hadn’t been sailing in a long time based on the wide smile that reached his eyes. His teeth even seemed to glitter in the sun. She jumped as his arm snaked around her waist to position her in front of him. He guided her hands with his to the same two handles his previously held. She could feel the warmth of his body and the ghost of his breath on her neck. She took a stuttering breath and concentrated on pushing ahead.

“Twenty four,” he said huskily.

“What?” she asked genuinely confused.

“You asked me how many gun ports on board, there are twenty four and fourteen cannon holds,” he clarified. “All disabled, I assure you.” She couldn’t see it, but she knew he was smirking behind her.

“Isn’t it bad luck to captain a ship with no name?”

“Aye,” he said coming around from behind to face her. He crossed his arms and lazily leaned against the helm’s railing. “But you see, naming a ship is never to be taken lightly. She had a name once, long ago, and none of the names I’ve considered seemed appropriate.”

Killian decided immediately that he very much liked the sight of her navigating his ship. Her golden hair was gleaming brightly in the late morning sun as the wind blew the heavy locks fluently from her face. Her lively eyes were focused straight ahead, with the occasional glance in his direction. He continued to admire her beauty as well as her natural ability to handle the old girl.

“So,” she suddenly spoke, breaking his trance. “you just happened to come across a functioning 300 year old pirate ship on one of your expeditions? How do you even know it belonged to pirates? And for that matter, how did you keep it out of a museum?”

She was speaking so fast, Killian wasn’t sure where to start. How was he going to explain how he knew that the William was a pirate ship without revealing that it belonged to Jack? He did have Jack’s journal stowed safely away in the captain’s quarters and wondered if he could convince her that it belonged to a lesser known pirate captain.

That could easily backfire if she begged him to let her read it, knowing full well that he would not be able to say no. Killian’s name was mentioned in several passages, seeing as he was Jack’s first mate and best friend. Thankfully, Jack was wise enough not to ever mention Killian’s condition, taking that secret to his grave. Killian’s own captain’s log was stored with Jack’s as well with 300 year old handwritten script.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have put you on the spot like that. You are the expert and if you say this is a pirate ship, I believe you.” She leaned in close to his ear, nearly brushing her nose along the shell, causing his breath to stutter. “And don’t worry,” she leaned in impossibly closer and whispered, “I won’t tell anyone you’re hoarding a priceless, centuries old brigantine.”

Killian let his eyes fall shut, imagining how her lips would feel pressed against the sensitive skin behind his ear. He hadn’t felt such attraction to a woman since Anne.

Killian took over navigating the ship once they reached the mouth of the river. Emma prepared bite sized pieces of baguette with creamy gouda with sweet red grapes and fed him as well as herself while asking multiple pirate related questions. Every time he would tell her something she didn’t already know she would adorably squeal with delight, then promptly cover her mouth in embarrassment.

“So you’re telling me that Calico Jack didn’t have a relationship with either women aboard his ship?” Killian nodded his head in the affirmative. “That’s not what I read and my grandpa told me that Anne Bonny was the love of Jack’s life,” she argued.

“Well you see, Swan, as Jack was approaching his 38th year, he was ready to retire and his first mate was willing to take on the title of captain as well as his namesake.”

“Just like Wesley and the Dread Pirate Roberts,” she said under her breath.

“Dread Pirate who?” Killian asked, baffled

“What, have you been living in a cave for the last 30 years?” she ask jokingly. He scratched behind his right ear just then, a gesture that Emma immediately recognized as a nervous tell. The look on his face told her that she may be closer to the truth about his living arrangements than he was comfortable with. She decided to drop the subject for the time being, remembering that they both still had a lot to learn about each other if they were going to be friends.

“I think we need to have a movie night,” she announced as she placed the leftover food in the basket. Killian was turning them around to head back to the marina.

“So if what you’re saying is correct, Jack’s first mate was Anne’s lover.”

“Aye.” Emma noticed a shadow had passed over Killian’s features. She took the hint and gave him a reassuring smile before heading below deck to place the picnic basket in the gally and also take a moment to admire the craftsmanship put into the intricate interior. She ran her finger along the large oak desk that sat perpendicular to a four poster bed adorned with a soft, woven, deep purple comforter.

“Emma.” His sudden appearance below deck had her nearly jumping out of her skin. The last thing she needed was for him to believe she was snooping. “I’m sorry for my poor manners earlier.” He looked so conflicted and troubled that all Emma could do was place her hand upon his scruffy cheek and encourage him to look her in the eyes

“You don’t owe me an apology or an explanation,” she assured him. “We’ve only just met and you are entitled to your secrets.” He gave her an appreciative yet sheepish smile. “God knows I have my fair share,” she said with a sigh. “This is beautiful, by the way,” she complimented, sweeping her hand to indicate she meant the entire room.

“Aye, I refurbished it to be as accurate as possible, but the quarters took a great deal of damage in what I assume was the old girl’s last battle.”

“What kind of damage?”

“Cannon fire, mostly. I had to replace the entire outer wall and my brother helped me craft the bed and desk to look as authentic as possible.”

“Wow,” Emma said, raising her eyebrows high up her forehead. She studied the fine details of the bedposts, unable to keep her hands from stroking the smooth, lacquered wood. “Will I ever have the pleasure of making your talented brother’s acquaintance?” she asked, still admiring the skill that went into creating such beautiful woodwork.

“Perhaps, although he and his family tend to lead a bit of a reclusive life,” Killian explained, hoping she wouldn’t pry. She seemed to accept his answer with a resigned smile.

“Well, please pass on my compliments the next time you see him.”

Killian nodded and noticed a few yachts passing the ship through the cabin’s porthole. “I’m going to weigh anchor, love and we’ll be back to shore shortly. How do you feel about visiting my old watering hole? It’s just a short stroll from the marina.”

Emma gave him a wide smile. “I would love that.” He grinned back and jogged up the narrow stairs, or as he had corrected her earlier, ‘anything resembling stairs on a ship is called a ladder, love’.

Killian held the door to The Jolly Sailor open for Emma. She flashed him a grateful smile and stepped inside the cheesy yet cheerful pub. Of the few patrons enjoying their afternoon libations, there were two types of men. One very boisterous group, that sat at the bar with huge mugs of beer, wore slicker pants and smelled of salt and fresh fish. The other group that occupied a larger table in the back of the bar, as far from the working class men as possible, were dressed in preppy white sweaters and pleated pants. Stereotypical, privileged snobs from West Essex county, no doubt. She had come in contact with enough of them on campus to be able to single them out instantly. Killian led her to the far end of the bar and offered his hand to assist her as she hopped onto the tall barstool. He removed his jacket, placing it on the back of the stool, and sat beside her, eyeing the drink menu.

“As I live and breath,” a male voice boomed from behind the bar. “Killian Jones,” the sandy haired bartender started, “I thought you’d gone and died and forgot to invite me to your funeral.” The friendly man approached them after refilling a pint for one of the fishermen. His smile grew wider as his eyes fell on Emma.

“Always a pleasure, Rob,” Killian replied, returning his greeting with his own warm smile. “Robin, this is Emma Swan,” he gestured towards her with his hand. “Emma, this is Robin Locksley, owner of this fine establishment.” Robin held out his hand in greeting and as she placed her hand in his, he raised her knuckles to his lips to place a feather light kiss upon them.

“It is very nice to meet you, Emma.”

“Likewise,” she replied with a blush. Killian cleared his throat and Robin let go of her hand.

“Emma is a research fellow at Cambridge,” Killian explained.

“Color me impressed. What is it that you research, Miss Swan?”

“I’m a hematologist,” she began, but paused when she noticed the quick dart of his eyes from hers to Killian’s then back to hers.

“A hematologist studies… blood, if I’m not mistaken?” Robin recovered quickly.

“That’s correct. I specialize in blood disorders. At the moment I am awaiting approval from the board of directors to continue my research on a drug formula that could eradicate porphyria as well many other forms of blood disorders.” Robin’s mouth dropped open at the mention of the rare disease and Emma was about to ask him about his odd behavior when Killian cleared his throat once again, grabbing her attention.

“What would you like to drink, love?” She didn’t quite know what to think about their odd behavior so she decided to just let her suspicion die for the moment.

“I’ll have whatever you’re having.” Killian scratched behind his ear again, clearly nervous about disappointing her with his selection. “Hey,” she said, placing her hand on his scruffy cheek, “I trust your judgment.” He let out a small sigh of relief. “I’m going to run to the ladies room.”

Killian watched her disappear as she followed the signs directing her to the hallway at the back of the bar to find the restrooms. He was startled back to reality by his friend’s sudden and loud, fake cough.

“Killian, what the hell is going on? I haven’t seen or heard from you in a couple months and now you show up unannounced, with a woman no less. Who is she to you?” Robin crossed his arms and waited, his eyes warning Killian that he would know if he tried to lie to him.

Robin was Killian’s best and, until Emma, only friend and the only mortal who knew of his condition.

It was a stormy afternoon when Killian had been passing by the pub after docking his ship and preparing her for the impending nasty weather that was sure to hit the seaside town when he heard a scuffle and a cry for help. With superhuman speed, he followed the noise around to the back alley of the Jolly Sailor, a pub and boarding house that had been in operation for as long as he has been “alive”. He spotted the pub’s newest owner with a bloodied face, crumpled on the ground in the fetal position, trying to stave off his attackers. Killian’s blood boiled when he saw that it was three thugs against one helpless bartender. He charged at the human scum with great force, knocking two of them ten feet back against a chain link fence while the third turned on him. Killian easily dodged each attempted blow from the drunkard, kicking him in the arse and sending him head first into the side of the building, knocking him out cold. The beaten man yelled out a warning just as Killian felt a knife being jabbed into his lower back, no doubt piercing his kidney. Big mistake, Killian mused. He turned to face the startled mugger and pulled the knife from his back, turning it on the frightened man.

“Please, we was only lookin’ to rob ‘im. Me and Gerald,” he gestured to his scared companion behind him, “we haven’t been able to find work in months and we was desperate. We have families to feed.” The man was visibly shaking with fear as the owner of the business stood and cautiously approached Killian and the would be thieves. He would have a black eye and a split lip and possibly some bruised ribs, but he would live. Killian was astonished to see a flash of sympathy in the man’s eyes. East Essex was a notoriously poor neighborhood with an astoundingly high unemployment rate.

“So you believe that gives you the right to steal from others who are trying to make a living as well?” Killian asked with a little less venom this time.

“No sir. We was desperate, haven’t eaten in days, weren’t thinkin’ straight, we wasn’t.” By now, the man Killian had knocked out was starting to come to with a groan. “I… I didn’t mean to stab you,” he stuttered out, obviously afraid for his life.

Killian turned his head toward the pub owner and the two shared an unspoken understanding.

“Why don’t you come inside, get warm and dry and I’ll make some soup and bread for you to take home to your families,” the bloodied owner offered. The three men stared dumbly at him, as if they couldn’t believe what they had just heard. Nevertheless, they followed the man, Killian bringing up the rear to keep a watchful eye on them and the man, Robin, as Killian would later learn was his name, was true to his word. The five of them sat at the table nearest to the fireplace, occasionally laughing uproariously at a shared anecdote while Robin periodically checked on the soup and freshly made bread. The man who had thrust his knife into Killian’s back was Lawrence, and his two friends were Gerald and Harry. Killian did his best to explain that Lawrence was so inexperienced with a knife that he had only cut his favorite leather jacket, showing him the lack of blood to set his mind at ease.

“I’m real sorry about ruinin’ your leather trench coat, Mr. Jones,” Lawrence apologized again.

“Don’t you worry about my coat, Lawrence. All you need to worry about is getting that food back to your family while it’s still warm and finding a job. I have a few contacts at a factory in Essex. I’ll give them a call, see what I can do for you. All of you.”

“To Mr. Jones and Mr. Locksley,” Gerald began, raising his mug, “may you both live long and prosperous lives!” Killian flinched at the toast, but quickly schooled his features to show appreciation for the kind words.

Robin sent the men off, each with a basket full of warm bread and pots full of hot, hearty soup. He had since cleaned his face of any blood and approached Killian with another two mugs of frothy, amber liquid. He sat across from Killian, taking a moment to study him and making Killian feel on edge.

“Thank you for your assistance today, mate.” Killian nodded before taking a swig of the much needed alcohol. He knew that Robin was not so easily convinced by his explanation he had given to Lawrence. “Does your injury need attending to?”

“No,” Killian relented. He ran his hand threw his hair, preparing himself for the inevitable twenty questions that were sure to come.

“Robin Locksley,” he offered his hand in formal greeting.

“Killian Jones.” The men shook hands.

“Well, Killian Jones, you have just earned yourself free beer for life at the Jolly Sailor,” Robin declared. Killian could do nothing, but gape at the man he dared call a friend.

“Mate…” Killian started, but was swiftly interrupted.

“You don’t owe me an explanation.” Killian sighed in relief. “However, one day in the future, perhaps after I have earned your trust, you may find that I make a rather excellent confidant.” Robin gave him a genuine smile and Killian knew it was only a matter of time before he shared his darkest of secrets.

That day came sooner than he had expected.

“So, if I’m understanding you correctly, you were cursed with vampirism by a voodoo priestess,”

“Obeah,” Killian corrected.

“Apologies, you were cursed with vampirism by an obeah priestess because you were dying from an incurable infection and your friend, Jack, took you to her to save your life after you deserted Her Majesty's Royal Navy in 1716.”

Killian nodded his head. “Aye.”

Robin starred just a second longer and Killian opened his mouth to explain further when the man refilled his mug and slid it over to him. “Sounds feasible to me,” Robin grinned. Killian expelled a relieved chuckle and from that day forward, the two men formed a tight bond which led to Killian eventually sharing the whole sad tale to his friend.

The clearing of Robin’s throat tore Killian out of his reverie. He knew he couldn’t avoid his friend’s inquiry so he blurted out the truth.

“Emma is the last remaining descendant of Woodes Rogers,” he confessed solemnly. Robin’s mouth fell open and his arms loosened from their locked position across his chest.

“What the devil is she doing with you then, out in the open like this?” Robin asked with a hushed yell. Killian ran his hand through his already disheveled hair.

“Barnett knows she’s alive. I’ve been charged with ensuring her safety as well as befriending her until we can figure out what he wants with her. As far as we can tell, he doesn’t want her killed. At least not immediately.”

“Fuck,” Robin breathed out.

“Aye,” Killian agreed.

“Well, if friendship is all you’re after, you had better tone down the charm, my friend.” Killian arched his eyebrow in confusion, waiting for his friend to elaborate. Robin shook his head while chuckling, much to Killian’s bemusement. “Sometimes I forget how long you’ve been out of the game, old man.”

“Might I remind you, old man, I’m technically only 32; However, I do remember celebrating your 42nd birthday a few months ago,” Killian countered with a shit-eating grin.

“Be that as it may,” Robin leaned in, “you haven’t had much experience with the fairer sex in nearly 300 years, my friend.” Killian lowered his eyes to study the etchings in the counter top at the thought of his long lost love. “Just be careful,” Robin cautioned. “You have a fragile heart and that lovely young woman just may be the one to fix it or break it.”

[imitranslates]

Fukigen na Mononokean Ch. 57

A familiar face, some cute scenes, and a sharp Ashiya~ What answers await us next month? I wonder!

Please remember to check out the official English release when it comes out, preferably on Crunchyroll if you’re able to!

The newest chapter can be read on the official website by clicking the yellow button labeled 読む!

FYI, next month’s translation might be a day or two late (or it might not!).

Fukigen na Mononokean Chapter 57 – Sprouting Secrets

Page 1

Sakae: I'll exorcise you, too.

Sakae: ...Disappear.

Page 2

Ashiya: ...

Ashiya: Haa...

Ashiya: Haa...

Ashiya: Haa...

Page 3

Ashiya: Haa... haa...

Ashiya: ...Haa...

......

Ashiya: Haa—....

Ashiya: ...Another one.

Ashiya: A dream about killing a demon with my influence.

Page 4

Ashiya: How many times does this make it...

(Ashiya: My alarm...)

Ashiya: ......

Ashiya: Today's November 2nd, huh...

Page 5

Joumatsu: Delicious! I haven't had this flavor in awhile!

Page 6

Joumatsu: Ashiya! One more!

Ashiya: I see you're still an impressive drinker!

Joumatsu-san!

Abeno: Has Anmo-dono been well since last time?

Joumatsu: Yes! The princess is as lovely as ever!

Her easily charmed nature hasn't changed, but... it’s lessened a bit from how it was before she closed herself up in that shell. I'm relieved!

Joumatsu: And compared to when we were in the mundane world, we fly together in the sky much more often!

Joumatsu: In fact, I went on a sightseeing flight with the princess in the forest a short ago!

Joumatsu: Since we came to the Underworld, every day has been full of joy!

Joumatsu: You have my gratitude for exorcising us!!

Abeno: ...That's excellent.

Ashiya: (What a completely doting story...)

Page 7

Mononokean: How sweet!

Ashiya: I'm relieved that you're getting along well.

It's been so long. I wish I could have seen Princess Anmo as well~~

Joumatsu: (Hmm...) Unfortunately, I couldn't bring the princess here...

Ashiya: Why's that?

Joumatsu: That is... Well... The reason for me visiting the Mononokean a second time is...

Joumatsu: Because I wanted your help with the princess.

Joumatsu: I was thinking that...

I would like to give the princess a gift!!

Ashiya: A present for Princess Anmo?

Page 8

Abeno: Would this be a "congratulatory gift"?

Joumatsu: No... It's nothing like that...

Ashiya: Abeno-san... Don't ask such a silly thing.

Joumatsu: T-that said, I'd like to give the princess something she'd be enjoy!

Ashiya: Uh-huh.

(Abeno: What's with that knowing smile...)

Joumatsu: Since we're from the mundane world, I was thinking I'd present her with something from here...

Ashiya: It'd be nice if she had something from the mundane world to keep with her in place of Joumatsu-san.

Ashiya: What kind of gift did you want to give her?

Joumatsu: Ah, yes...

Joumatsu: I have not decided that yet...

Joumatsu: I thought that if I hadn't settled on anything before I arrived,

Since the Mononokean is well informed about the mundane world, I would come to ask your advice for any good ideas. (I can't give her something that she might fall in love with, either.)

Page 9

Abeno: (Rather than worrying about it, isn't it more effective to ask the person directly?)

(Abeno: I see...)

Ashiya: (I have the feeling he's going to say, "Just ask her directly.")

Abeno: Why don't you just...

Ashiya: UMMM! That's right! How about some flowers!

Abeno: !?

Ashiya: My place is a flower shop, so if you give me a bit of time, I can prepare something!

Joumatsu: Flowers, huh!

Certainly, the princess did love looking at flowers!

Joumatsu: This is a wonderful idea!

Page 10

Joumatsu: Now then! Let's make haste over to Ashiya's home!

Abeno: Joumatsu-dono, by Underworld law, you can't enter the mundane world from here.

Abeno: We shall go and make the preparations, so can I ask that you wait for a brief period?

Joumatsu: Hmm... If it's like that, I have no choice.

Ashiya: By the way, do you happen to know what Princess Anmo's favorite color, or favorite flower is? (I'd like to have a reference for when we make the flower arrangement!)

Joumatsu: I see~~ Then perhaps~~

Page 11

Ashiya: Excuse me...

Ashiya: Could you make me one fluffy and sparkly flower arrangement?

Nara: Sure thing. Fluffy and sparkly, huh~

Oh! Welcome, Abeno-kun!

Nara: Thanks for helping me the other day. (For taking me to the hospital...)

Abeno: It was nothing...

(Ashiya: Come inside, come on.)

Nara: Could it be... You're the one who wants these flowers, Abeno-kun?

Nara: A present for your girlfriend, maybe?

Abeno: Yes. (Please make it with a girl in mind.)

Nara: I knew it!

Nara: You must be popular, huh, Abeno-kun?

You know, when Hanae was in middle school...

Ashiya: AAAAH, MOM!? Can you not say anything unnecessary?!

Abeno: ?

Page 12

Nara: Ah, yes!

Nara: Since you're here, why don't you try making it yourself?

Ashiya: !

Nara: If it was made by Abeno-san, I'm sure she'd be happy.

Nara: Of course, she'd like it if I made it, too. ...What do you think?

(Joumatsu: Flowers that are fluffy and sparkle like the princess!)

Ashiya: Sure, if we made it ourselves, it would probably be more convenient.

Since we know what Princess Anmo looks like.

Abeno: How would we convey that? There's no way she'd think the recipient is songbird-sized, either, huh...

Abeno&Ashiya: (In that case...!)

Page 13

Abeno: Allow me to accept your proposal and try to make it myself.

Ashiya: If it's a simple arrangement, I can help make it!

Nara: If Hanae's with you, you'll be okay without my teaching.

Please use my work bench.

(Nara: If you have any problems, I'll be in the back, so just call for me.)

(Ashiya: Let's get started!)

(Ashiya: This basket should be good.)

Page 14

Ashiya: Abeno-san! This should be a good size for putting it in!

Abeno: ......

Ashiya: Yikes!

(Ashiya: What's wrong?)

Ashiya: This is the first time I've seen a customer choosing flowers with such a demonic expression... (The flowers might wither.)

[Serious.]

Abeno: Which flower is fluffy and sparkly...? A double flower in a really bright color...?

Abeno: Would a cotton flower be fluffy? But it's not sparkly...

Ashiya: (Has this abstract request triggered a mild panic...?!)

Ashiya: It's fine if you don't think about it that hard.

Whatever you choose with that sort of feeling is OK!

Abeno: Whatever has... that sort...

Page 15

Ashiya: When I imagine Princess Anmo, I think starting with a pink base would be good.

A carnation has a kind of fluffy, sparkly feeling to it~~

(Ashiya: The gerbera and rose is good, too~)

(Ashiya: And the dahlia is in season and fresh~)

Ashiya: Next is gypsophila to increase the volume!

The caper bush should be on the inside...

Ashiya: Ah, here it is! After that, I should put in some green...

Abeno: !

Abeno: .......

[Funeral altar flowers.]

Page 16

Ashiya: Abeno-saaan!

Ashiya: Abeno-san, which color looks more fluffy?

Ashiya: Right? Left?

Abeno: .....Left?

Page 17

Ashiya: .......

(Ashiya: What's wrong this time?)

Ashiya: Abeno-san, please just insert it...

Abeno: This is the first move. Wherever I place it will become the cornerstone...

Ashiya: Is this shougi?

(Ashiya: F... First, why don't you try putting it in the center?)

Abeno: ......

Ashiya: ...!?

Abeno: ......

Abeno: (Haa...) The rest of this... you do it...

Ashiya: Alright...

Ashiya: (To give up after the first move, he must be really bad at this...)

Page 18

Abeno: November 2nd...

Page 19

Ashiya: The day Sakae vanished...

Ashiya: It's the anniversary of Sakae's death, huh...

Page 20

Abeno: ......

Abeno: ......

Ashiya: Did... I say something to bother you, Abeno-san?

Abeno: Huh? No... What are you asking all of a sudden?

Page 21

Ashiya: The crease of your brow seems to indicate, "I'm troubled... What should I do..."

Yeah! Today is the death anniversary, but! It's not like my family does anything special in mourning, so you can just ignore it!

(Abeno: My brows indicates...?)

Ashiya: Though... In the first place, I can't really tell my family,

So can you not say anything to my mom, either?

Abeno: You're not saying anything?

Ashiya: ...I won't say anything.

I mean, it's not like I can explain it.

Ashiya: If I knew the reason he died, or the circumstances, I might be able to tell them, but...

Even though Abeno-san investigated for me, it was over before we found out anything...

Page 22

Abeno: ...Well, I guess that's true.

Ashiya: That wasn't a complaint or claim just now, though?!

You looked through every nook and cranny during your investigation, so I only have gratitude for you!

Ashiya: Your investigation into Sakae is worth the 1 million yen added to my debt!

Page 23

Abeno: That additional debt... I'll writing it off.

Ashiya: !?

Ashiya: ...Eh?

Abeno: The investigation request I accepted from you to find out about "the last moments of your father," but I still don't know.

I don't have anymore clues, so searching beyond this point will be difficult.

Abeno: The work I did isn't enough to receive the request fee of one million... That's why I don't want it.

Page 24

Ashiya: No, no... No matter the result, the fact that you did your investigation doesn't change...

Abeno: I said I don't want it.

(Ashiya: It... it's a million, you know!?)

(Abeno: Don't want it.)

Ashiya: (He's refusing to take it?!)

Ashiya: ...Then,

Ashiya: I'll accept your kindness...

Ashiya: (That said... I'm glad my debt decreased, but...)

Ashiya: ......

[Why did he only "write it off" at this moment?]

Page 25

[If he thought that investigating more than this would be difficult...]

[Why didn't he say that when he gave me his report?]

[By writing off the debt...

[He's saying he's "giving up any further investigation..."]

[But, Abeno-san...]

[Until now, has never given up on a request...

Not even once.]

Page 26

[If there was another reason for it...]

(Could he know something he can't talk about?)

Ashiya: ...!

(And that's why he decided to give up the request?)

[Just what about my father...]

[Does Abeno-san know?]

Page 27

Abeno: ......

Ashiya: ......

Ashiya: Um... I'm going to ask you about something else, but...

Abeno: What is it?

Page 28

Ashiya: There's something about Sakae...

Ashiya: That you're hiding from me, isn't there?

[w0lfbr0thers]

its a date - evak drabble

note: this is a uni drabble that no one asked for where isak and even live across from each other and even has a movie blaring at 3 am and isak cant sleep - you’re welcome

+2.5K+ Words +Ch. 1/1

Isak wasn't one for sleeping very well on a school night - and now that he's started uni, it hasn't exactly smoothed itself a perfect path. Of course he had his sleep meds, but did they ever work? No. So Isak gave up on the idea of sleeping pills a long ass time ago and just tried to cope with draping his duvet over his head and screwing his eyes shut until he had to wake for his first lecture three or four hours later. A natural pattern, of course, and his roommates tried to help out as much as they could with melatonin supplements or different types of herbal teas but nothing worked. Plus, uni wasn't so welcoming with all these loud ass parties happening somewhere around campus and Isak was dying to go but this wasn't high school - he had to keep his priorities straight.

One night in particular is what set him into this whirlwind of sleeping but yet not sleeping, kind of in a daze but all because of a some cute boy but it wasn't in the way he ever would want to meet any cute boy - ever. He had a big physics test coming up and he had been lying in bed ever since he got home from his last lecture but just at the stroke of midnight, he heard blaring coming from somewhere on his level of dorms. He groaned, rolling his eyes and he tried to drown it out but it was some weird, Shakespearean shit and all Isak could gather was 'this person has to be a fucking poetry fanatic'. It went on for a while, and it seemed to increase in volume every time Isak would shut his eyes which was completely agony.

'This bud of love, by summer’s ripening breath, may prove a beauteous flower when next we meet.'

Isak rolled his eyes as how grossly worded this movie was, and just as it hit 3 am, Isak couldn't take it. He pulled on sweats and a hoodie, stormed across the flat and he threw open the door, heading into the halls that were still brightly lit and he limited down the rooms one by one by how loud the movie was and he finally figured out it was the one right across from his own. He groaned, stepping up to the door and banged his fist on the wooden frame, his jaw clenched as he waited for the culprit to open his damn door and give him an explanation. He raises his fist one more time to knock, but just before his hand hit the door it swung open and there stood the most beautiful, outstanding boy Isak had ever laid eyes on. He coughed nervously, dropping his hand as his heartbeat began strumming annoying fast as the boy raises an eyebrow, a questioning look on his face.

"Can I help you?" The boy asked and Isak almost melted at how smooth his voice was and how it sounded like a song as it filled his ears. Isak was annoyingly mesmerized and he crossed his arms, managing to keep a straight and agitated face as he looked up at the boy who seemed only a few years older than him.

"Yeah, could you maybe turn down your movie volume? It's like, three am, pal. People need their sleep," Isak mumbles, his eyebrows knitting together.

Surprisingly, the boy grins, tilting his head to the side in the cutest way and Isak just can't ignore it, "Oh, sorry. I have a theatre class and I have to watch Romeo and Juliet as an assignment. I didn't realize it was loud."

"How could you not realize how loud it was?" Isak scoffs, shaking his head in disbelief. "Why so fucking late to watch a damn movie when there's a book?"

The boy shrugs, "I've seen this movie probably a dozen times but I just enjoy it. The beautiful words - the story line - the tragic ending. It's beautiful. And, it's not really a book." He chuckles. "It's more of a collection of sonnets."

"A collection of what?" Isak asks, utterly confused.

"It's nothing. But, hey, you should join me to watch it sometime?" He offers, a smile tugging on the corner of his lips and Isak catches himself blushing as he looks down at his feet.

"Um. Maybe- I don't- maybe. Sounds nice and all, but I don't think I'm a big guy on- what did you call them? Sonnets. I'm more of a science guy."

"Makes sense, regarding your 'NASA' sweatshirt," the boy chuckles, the sound causing Isak to feel a fluttering sensation in his stomach.

"When's your last lecture today?" Isak asks quickly, a surge of confidence flowing through him as he stares at the cute boy who's standing in the door frame.

"16.35. You?"

"16.00," Isak allows himself a smile. "Meet me at kaffebrenneriet after and then we can head back here for the movie with coffee?"

"Sounds like a great plan," the boy says, extending a hand that Isak is more than willing to take into his own and shake it. "I'm Even."

"Isak."

"Isak, hm. Lovely name," Even comments and Isak feels his heart skip a few beats.

"Till tomorrow?"

Even nods, "Till tomorrow."

"Goodnight, just remember to keep the movie volume down?" Isak pokes one last time, turning to walk back to his own flat and just before he shuts the door behind him, he hears;

"Good night, good night! Parting is such sweet sorrow, that I shall say good night till it be morrow."

Isak allows himself a bittersweet smile as he closes his flat door, shuffling his way back into his bed and his body allows him a few extra special hours of sleep.

-

Isak flies through his physics test in a breeze, collecting a solid six on it which fills him with more happiness then what he was filled with when he woke up almost fully rested this morning due to the early morning events. He was about to go on an almost-date with the cutest guy he was sure was way out of his league but Isak was so willing to give it a try. As he said, he finished at 16.00 and pulled on his jacket, filled his school bag with his essentials he would need for his late night homework session, and headed to the coffee shop he and Even had agreed to meet at. He sat at a small table by the window, constantly looking up and down the street and was badgering by countless waitresses asking if he needed anything but he brushed him to the side, excusing that he was 'waiting for a friend' and the girls seemed to dwindle as the extra 35 minutes passed.

Finally, Isak's heart surges as he seems the familiar figure of the cute boy make his way down the street, and he instantly catches Isak's gaze and gives a wink as he passes the window, walking into the sweet and warm coffee shop, eagerly joining Isak at the table his eyes bright.

"You finally arrived, I began to worry you were going to ditch me," Isak pipes up, grinning as Even laughs and it's so warm that Isak's heart melts.

"I'm not that type of guy, no need to worry about that. Especially if I'm meeting up with a cute boy," Even grins. "Shall we get our coffee and head back to the dorms?"

Isak gives a small nod, getting up from the table and Even follows the notion, following him up to the counter where they both order a hot chocolate and head out into the bitter cold of November, the warm colors of fall surrounding them as they head back to the campus. They receive a few hellos and waves as they head up the stairs to the third floor of dorms and finally they made it to their section of the hallway. Even grinned, unlocking his flat door and they both entered, not speaking a word. They slipped off their shows in the small hallway and Isak followed Even through the rooms and they appeared to be alone which sent Isak into a panic - but in some sort of good way.

Even gestured to where they could lay their things, which was merely a chair but Isak didn't seem to mind. They shuffled through the flat and finally, Even opened the door to what Isak saw as some sort of paradise. He walked in, and was instantly welcomed with drawings plastering the walls and vinyl albums stacked all over, and a small acoustic guitar in the corner by the bed. Isak was in awe as he took in the surroundings and how just by Even's room how much it told him about him. Even watched him, his arms folded, as Isak made his way to the closet doors where dozens of drawings were taped askew across the doors.

"Did you draw these?" Isak asks after a while, unable to pull his eyes away from the magnificent artwork.

Even chuckles, walking further into the room, "I did. Do you like them?"

"They're amazing, wow," Isak admits, biting his lower lip. "You're a good artist."

"Tusen takk. I don't let many people see my drawings due to how personal they are to me, but-" Even shrugs, "-it's chill."

"Why are you letting me gawk at them, then?" Isak suddenly feels embarrassed as he turns to Even who is now setting up the movie on his TV.

"Because it's just you," Even shrugs. "I don't find you dangerous or anything. I find you sweet."

Isak's lips twitch up into a smile as he walks over to Even bed, "So, what should I expect with this movie?"

"Well, it is a tragedy so there might be some crying," Even tells him, smiling as he looks up at Isak's jumbled expression. "And it's the Leo DiCaprio version, which is the most beautiful."

"I doubt this movie will make me cry, but I guess we'll just have to see - and it's just Leonardo DiCaprio. Nothing special."

Even guffaws, "Leonardo DiCaprio is a man of artwork. And see we shall."

They situate themselves on Even's bed, and Isak being the shy boy he is leaves just a big of elbow space between them but he's aching to lean into Even and watch the movie while Even runs his hands through his hair and- no. Isak barely knows the guy, but he already seems half in love with him but then again he never gets the chance to see a cute boy and it's strange how he has never seen him around campus.

Isak gets drawn into the movie carefully, and Even can't help but glance at him from time to time to just see the lights from the TV dance in his beautiful, emerald green eyes and Even would give anything to just gaze into them for hours on end. The movie drones on, and Even barely pays attention to it and Isak can admit that even he stole a glance or two in Even's direction. Isak catches himself more into the movie than he thought and soon the ending credits are rolling and he finds himself turning tense as he feels Even's skin on his own, wiping away the warm tears that signify that he has been crying. Isak swallows, turning his head slowly in Even's hand to face him and he finds a soft, warm smile greeting him.

"Love is a smoke raised with the fume of sighs; being purged, a fire sparkling in lovers’ eyes; being vex’d a sea nourish’d with lovers’ tears," is all Even says and Isak is speechless as Even wipes away his stray tears and he blinks once. Twice. No, this isn't a dream. This is all real life and Isak can't believe it. Even removes his hand, dropping it in his lap and Isak yearns for his touch to return.

"I can't believe this movie made me cry," Isak sighs and his voice his quiet, low like a whisper.

"Was it too loud for you?" Even jokes and Isak can't help but roll his eyes but in a fond-like way.

"No, it was fine," Isak sniffles. "The movie was perfect."

Isak raises up a hand to his cheek, wiping away a few more tears and Even speaks again, quoting the tragedy one more time in a quiet, soft voice, "See how she leans her cheek upon her hand! O that I were a glove upon that hand, that I might touch that cheek!"

Isak doesn't say a word as he eases his hand away from his face, bringing it to Even's and his touch lingers for a few minutes before grasping his hand, enveloping it in both his hands as he brings it up to his cheek, placing Even's hand against his skin which sends rippling waves of shock through him and his skin is burning as Isak locks his eyes with Even's and he sees just how deep and blue they are and it puts Isak in what seems like a trance.

"I'm really glad that I got up the courage to ask you to turn down your movie," Isak says after a few short moments of silence.

"Why not?" Even asks, a smile playing his lips as he runs his thumb against the soft skin of Isak's cheek and he tucks a small strand of curly, blonde hair behind his ear.

"Because it led me to such a beautiful, soft spoken and sweet guy who has a soft spot for cheesy romance movies," Isak laughs softly, leaning into Even's touch just a bit more.

"Cheesy? Hva? No fucking way, romantic movies are the best. Some of them could use some work, yeah, but Baz Luhrmann makes the best romantic movies," Even pouts and Isak just raises an eyebrow, licking his lips.

"Baz Luhrmann, really?"

"Yes, really! Romeo and Juliet isn't his only masterpiece."

"How many other 'masterpieces' does he have?" Isak asks, allowing himself to move a bit closer to Even.

"Tell you what, let's make all those other movies a date," Even winks, giving Isak a smug look.

"A date? Seriously? You want to watch more movies with me?"

Even shrugs, "Why not?"

Isak bites his lip, considering the offer and he swears that Even can hear how loud his heartbeat is, "Sure. It's a date."

"Ah, finally! I succeeded."

"Succeeded? Succeeded in what?"

"Getting a date with cute curly boy," Even beams, reaching up his other hand to place on Isak's other cheek so he knows holds his face in his hands. "A dream come true."

"Since when did you set this goal?" Isak asks nervously, a bubbly feeling rising in his stomach.

"Since the first day I saw you at orientation," Even winks, letting his hands drop from Isak's face.

Isak feels his cheeks heat up and he finds himself looking down at his lap, a smile tugging at his lips, "Seriously?"

"Absolutely."

"Then it is, 100%, a date."

"Coffee tomorrow and we can get started on the movie dates?" Even offers as Isak rises from the bed, readying himself to head back to his own flat.

"Of course," Isak smiles, grabbing his jacket.

"Perfect."