#which is the only gift i’m going to give this holiday season (which is very nice) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

une-femme-de-lettres · 2 years

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Festive Spirit

Pairing: Ghost x Reader (mutual pining only) Word count: 3880 Warnings: none, just pure fluff Summary: The Task Force 141 is forced to lay low after a particularly demanding mission. There’s no going home for the Holidays this year but you want to give your boys some of the festive spirit of the season. Note: I just love them so fucking much!! And I’m a sucker for domestic fluff so there you go! Link to Masterlist

“Hey…” Your voice is quiet as you enter the small kitchen where Price is busy filling a mug with hot water. Your eyes dart to the window above the counter top, soft white light is projecting onto the ceiling of the rundown apartment you are currently staying in. It snowed again last night.

“Slept in today, Shells?” he asks with a smile, handing you the mug he just filled and completed with a bag of tea and three sugar cubes. You smile back and take the object, enjoying the feeling of warmth seeping through your fingers.

“Just had a rough night,” you say, making your way to sit at the table, grabbing a spoon while passing by the counter. “That’s all,” you finish in a smile. You’ve not been spending the calmest nights lately, memories of your latest mission still running around your mind, keeping you awake and alert at all times. This added to the fact that at least two of your teammates have been keeping the whole place filled with their snoring every night. Speaking of which…

“Where is everyone?” you ask curiously, watching Price sit at the table, on the chair opposite from you, with a light grunt.

“They went out for a run,” he says, making you huff. In that weather? So it is true that 141 members have a death wish…

“You stayed?” you ask Price matter-of-factly, your spoon clinking against the walls of your mug as you calmly stir the sugar into your hot beverage.

“We need to stick together as much as we can, just in case, while we’re laying low,” he explained, making you nod slowly.

“Right,” you reply, still rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. “How long until we can return to base?”

“Not for some time, unfortunately,” he sighs, looking at you with a sorry expression. He lets out a breathy chuckle. “I’m gonna have to spend another Holiday season stuck in a safe house with a bunch of riled up guys.”

“Yeah,” you laugh in turn. Truth is, having to spend this time of year with your colleagues was not the best case scenario, but they were somewhat like a family to you still. So might as well enjoy the turn of events and make the most of it. Especially considering what you have gone through these past few days.

“Well, about that,” you start, your voice slightly quieter as if you feared some of your teammates might still be in the next room, able to hear your conversation. “I wanted to talk to you,” you say, watching Price sit a little closer to the table, attentively listening to you.

You proceed to explain to him what you have in mind. You want to celebrate the holidays in some way, and the best thing you’ve found would be buying a small gift for everyone along with a few decorations to bring the festive spirit into your temporary habitation. A nice home-cooked meal would be nice too, but that is definitely a plus, if you manage. Progressively, you see his face light up with a warm smile, making his eyes squint ever so slightly. Wrinkles appear around them.

“That’s…” he starts, contemplating your proposition, “I’ve not even thought about it, that’s very thoughtful of you,” he says and you have to keep yourself from smiling too much. Your heart beats faster at the prospect of carrying out your little plan.

“Well, you know this mission’s been rough on all of us so…” you explain, a few images projecting inside your mind. You try to cut them out, looking over at him. He gets up slowly, approaching you as you take a sip of your beverage.

“You finish your tea and pack what you need, I’m gonna get the car ready, yeah?” he says, cocking an eyebrow. You smile.

“Thanks John.”

“S’ nothing,” he replies, chuckling and patting the top of your head before exiting the kitchen, leaving you to figure out more details about your plan.

The location of your safe house is a rather small city. But it has a pretty extensive retail park at the edge of town with a large range of mainly chain stores. Perfect for what you have to do.

The place is bustling with activity, with people getting ready to celebrate Christmas Eve tonight. People buying last minute gifts. People gathering supplies for the five course meal they’re about to feed their families. And people simply shopping or wandering around town just to kill some time before tonight.

You visit a pound shop first. You have a pretty good idea of what you’ll be able to find for your teammates around here. But you still ask Price for advice, just in case. He knows them better than you do after all. You also take the time to gather a few decorations to cheer up your space, garlands, a comically small Christmas tree and a few ornaments. Price follows you closely, offering to carry the stuff you collect along the way. You don’t have that many things so you dismiss his help with a grateful word.

Still unable to think of anything else but your job for a day, you also take advantage of your little adventure to stock up on a few supplies in other stores. Mainly food but also various consumables and material that you could use in intervention, just in case you have to get back on the field immediately.

By now, a couple of hours have passed and Price suggests you get lunch somewhere. You stop at a chain fast-food restaurant. It would definitely be better for discretion to eat in the car or grab take out to eat home but you still have a few things to grab here after lunch and Price is not about to let you freeze to death in the middle of a parking lot. You take a seat in a small booth in a corner of the restaurant and quietly eat your meal.

You start a nice little conversation with Price that ends up with him talking about a few of his past Holiday experiences. He talks to you about how he had to spend Christmas Eve at Credenhill with the boys one year. And how Soap had forced Ghost to put up decorations in the base’s common room with him then. He even managed to get Ghost to wear one of those Santa hats, over the mask, of course, for maximum effect. He then stops for a second and wonders. You look at him curiously and he smiles, preparing his question for you.

“What’s the best Christmas present you ever got?” he asks, amused at the memories forming in his own mind. You chuckle, your eyes darting to the food in front of you as you think about it.

“I was ten, I got my first camera,” you finally say excitedly, still trying to gather up the few memories you had of that time. “It was one of those Polaroid camera things,” you explain, mimicking the object with your hands.

He can’t keep his eyes away from you, you’re talking about it with a bewildered expression on your face. It warms his heart.

“I took that thing everywhere, everything I saw I would photograph,” you sigh. “And I would hoard the pictures in my room, some weren’t even legible but I just wanted to keep them all,” you finish with a chuckle and a shrug.

“You’re a photographer,” he says matter-of-factly, leaning back in his seat. He tries to hide a fact that he is delighted to learn more things about you. Or even just to hear you speak so openly, especially when you’ve been so quiet and reserved lately.

“Well I kind of stopped with the years, and with work…” you explain with a sad smile. Price moves the conversation to another light topic and you keep conversing quietly until you’re both done eating.

Your search then continues in other stores. At some point, Price leaves your side to get to another store, designating the car you came in as your rally point. It’ll give you time to go to your last destination. You still needed to get a gift for your Captain.

Once you’re both back at the vehicle, you ask him for one last stop at the Tesco store nearby. You still want to get some sort of meal ready for Christmas Eve but the kitchen in your safe house won’t exactly allow for extensive cooking. You end up settling for a bunch of frozen pizzas that you’ll be able to cook in the small oven there. Good enough…

Of course by the time you’re back, the boys have returned from their little training session but you manage to sneak what you’ve bought inside without raising suspicion. You pretend to have a mild headache to retreat inside your room for the next hours. Price, your partner in crime, plays along and checks up on you from time to time, making sure to also keep the others busy so they don’t question your absence too much.

Price’s whole ‘We forgot to get a few things this morning, boys…’ spiel seems to have worked as he manages to make your teammates leave the safe house long enough at the beginning of the evening for you to put up the decorations and start the pizzas. You quickly decorate the main space as you don’t know how long they’ll take to come back from their supply run.

You place the small pre-decorated tree in the centre of the coffee table in front of the couch. You surround it with the wrapped gifts and you see Price smile at you from the corner of your eyes.

“Is one of those for me?” he asks with a chuckle. You stand up from your kneeling position on the floor and get back to hanging the tinsel garlands on the wall with tape.

“Don’t you dare peeking, Price,” you threaten and he laughs it off.

As the clock is ticking, you only feel your heart beating faster and faster, making you slightly out of breath. You can’t help picturing the events of the night ahead and you often have to snap out of your reverie to focus on your current tasks.

You know your teammates are returning when you hear their heavy footsteps in the stairwell outside the apartment. You jump up to wait by the front door impatiently. Price looks at you from inside the kitchen, his heart already melting at the sight.

Soap is the first to enter the apartment, shoulders and head covered in a light dusting of snow. You smile at him as his eyes widen with at sight before him.

“Steamin’ Jesus, Lass… what’s all this?” he mumbles under his breath.

The others soon follow. Ghost stays behind for a moment, closing and locking up the door. Gaz takes a moment to look around at the decorations, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“You did all that?” He asks and you shrug.

“Might have gotten someone’s help…” you say with a mischievous smile and a quick look back at Price. Gaz gives a knowing look and nod in the older man’s direction.

Your eyes are on Ghost, then. He looks in slight awe before your desire to have them spend joyful Holidays in your small safe house. But a very light shade of sorrow tints his gaze. You feel your heart sink inside your chest ever so slightly.

“Happy Christmas, boys…” you mumble, your throat unable to let out louder words.

Soap hugs you tightly and thanks you sincerely. The gesture puts joy in his heart in that time when he can’t be with his own family. Gaz does too, before his gaze meets the coffee table and the presents laid on it. He laughs, you really went all out.

You join Price in the kitchen while Soap, Ghost and Gaz get rid of their snow-covered outerwear and put away the supplies they just bought. You notice from your spot inside the small room that Soap has found the red and white Santa hat you got earlier. He excitedly puts it on his head, before the disapproving looks of his teammates, especially Ghost’s. But he doesn’t care because he can see how it makes you smile, and that’s all that matters to him.

The cheap pizzas start smelling really good and you can’t stop smiling in anticipation. Price teases you for it but you know from the look in his eyes he’s currently the happiest man on Earth.

You end up all sitting around the small coffee table, either on the floor or on the couch. You suggest Price sits on the couch - it’s better for his hips - and he curses at your insolence. The pizzas join your little reunion and you start eating eagerly.

Some anecdotes about past Christmas experiences are exchanged just like earlier today when you had lunch with Price. Soap tells you about his own side of the story and even Ghost joins into the conversation. He looks way more excited than earlier but he can’t help adverting his gaze every time your eyes meet him, making him pause for a second before speaking again.

After your meal, you quickly debate opening the gifts in the morning as is tradition, but you end up settling for unwrapping them tonight. No one says it, but everyone knows why.

Price is the first to get his present. You insist on giving it to him first as he was the one that helped you make this day truly count. You can see his face turning a very light shade of red when you hand him the gift from your spot on the floor. He can’t help but smile.

He smiles even wider, if it were even possible, when he takes a black woollen beanie hat out of the box. The wool is soft against his fingers and the colour is a deep shade, discreet and elegant.

“Just in case you want to get rid of that old bucket hat…” you say under your breath, suppressing a laugh. Soap chuckles and, for a split second, you’re sure you can hear Ghost let out a small laugh too. Maybe your senses are playing tricks on you.

“Oh come on, it’s not that bad!!” Price replies, looking slightly offended. Gaz raises an eyebrow and cocks his head.

“It’s pretty bloody ugly, mate…” Soap says with a dramatic squint in Prices direction.

Price still thanks you warmly, even after your little show of humour. Soap’s gift comes next. You hand it to him from across the table and he eagerly takes it, unwrapping it quickly. You didn’t know Soap that well so you asked Price for what to get him. Your heart beats faster as he opens it, you hope he’ll find it nice.

He unwraps a small dog plush toy. A German Shepherd with a small keychain so he can keep it on his equipment, you thought. The animal looks cute, with big blue eyes, it reminded you of him a little when you got it.

“I was told you really like dogs,” you explain shyly. Price starts laughing silently and Soap looks up at him with an angry look.

“Oh that’s funny now,” he says sarcastically with a nod. Your expression falters as you get it. Soap hates dogs - they scare him shitless, in fact.

You feel played and frown at Price. But suddenly your eyes are wide and on Ghost again as he laughs along with Price. He looks over at Soap who’s sitting beside him, thinking for a second. You can see his eyes fill with a mischief you’ve rarely witnessed on him. It suits him.

“Maybe you’d prefer half of it?” he asks Soap. The sergeant’s shoulders drop again.

“Come on, L.t…” he says under his breath, making Ghost and Price laugh harder. Your eyes remain on Ghost for a moment, his eyes slightly squinting with the smile hidden under his mask. He looks happy, he looks… cute?

With this, Soap moves to sit beside you and give you another hug as a thank you. He whispers in your ear that he absolutely love the small toy, no matter what the others might say. Your heart flutters inside your chest.

After Soap’s comes Gaz’s present. You hand it to him like you did for the others and he smiles gently. He looks around at his teammates while opening it, curious of what little trick you had in mind for him. He takes a second to read the cover of the book he just unwrapped.

“10 subtle ways to prove your superiors wrong without getting fired,” he says, you smile when he looks at you. “Nice one, Kid,” he says with a chuckle. You know of his aversion for blindly following orders and respecting stupid regulations. Doesn’t really sits right with him, does it?

“Is this directed towards me?” Price asks tentatively, casting a suspicious look towards you.

“Nah, it’s for higher up, Captain,” Gaz responds, winking at you.

You’re glad he gets it. This is a stupid gift, you know it. But again, every one of them is some kind of joke. And they wouldn’t have liked it any other way.

Ghost’s turn finally comes. You can’t help but feel a little shier handing the present to him. You try to look at him in the eyes. He looks back.

“Ghost, here’s yours,” you say quietly and he nods.

“Thanks.” His voice comes out colder than he would’ve liked. You swallow a small lump in your throat.

Inside the package is a pair of black socks with a white skeleton feet print on them. They match his gloves and his mask. You tilt your head slightly.

“To keep you warm,” you add quietly as you see his eyes going from the socks to you, widening ever so slightly. You swear you can see his cheekbones raise slightly under his mask.

A heavy silence stretches between you all. This one’s meant as a joke too, but it’s way more than that to him. And the words you just let out are proof that you care more for him than you actually realize. You notice that only now that you spoke them.

“They were leftover from the Halloween section…” Price’s playful voice breaks the silence and you turn to him, trying to silence him with a gesture of your hand.

“Shhhhh, stop!” you exclaim, extending your arm to try and hit him in the shin before turning to Ghost again. “Don’t listen to him,” you say, pointing at Price.

“It’s true though,” Price continues, making the others laugh. Of course they were on clearance after Halloween season was over but you don’t want that fact to make this gift seem any less thoughtful. Ghost doesn’t see it that way. He speaks to you sincerely.

“Thank you, Shells,” he says with an amused voice, making you pause for a second. “For everything you did today,” he continues, putting the socks down on the table with the discarded wrapping. You feel the urge to look down but your eyes move around instead, looking at each and every one of your teammates.

When you finally turn to Soap, who’s still sitting beside you, his eyes are curious.

“You don’t have a present, Lass?” he asks and it dawns on you only now. You were so caught up in getting them their gifts, you didn’t even think of getting one for yourself.

“I guess my present is… this,” you assure them with a smile, gesturing towards the whole space you sitting in. Price chuckles at your enthusiasm but shakes his head. He knew that would happen. He knows you all too well.

He slowly takes a small box out from behind him on the couch and nudges at your elbow with it. You look surprised when you look back at him.

“There ya go, Kid,” he says with a gentle smile, “picked it out while you were on your own,” he explains with a shrug. Of course he did…

You open the box slowly and discover a small Polaroid camera. The others look curiously at it and back at Price. You can’t keep your eyes off of your gift, memories coming back to you instantly.

“They still make those?!” you ask excitedly, feeling the pang of nostalgia inside your heart. You can’t help smiling goofily, your limbs trembling slightly with the rush of emotions. You stand up and move towards Price. “Thank you so much,” you whisper as you hug him tightly.

“S’ nothing,” he responds, letting you go so you can explore the small object. Gestures come to you naturally, muscle memory kicking in quickly. Load the film - tweak the exposition - activate the flash - press the shutter button. You want to try it so bad.

One idea comes to your mind, then. You look over at everyone from where you’re standing. You would want this moment to last forever, but it won’t. And the closest thing you can’t think of is this.

“I want to take a picture of us,” you say, looking at Ghost. ‘There’s no picture?’ ‘Never…’ “If you’re all okay with it,” you say hesitantly hugging the camera close to you. You can see Ghost’s eyes moving to you. They’re gentle.

“Hell yeah,” Soap says, standing from his spot on the floor.

“I’m in.”

“Sure…”

Gaz and Price talk in turn. Your eyes are still on Ghost. He looks at his teammates fondly and nods.

“Why not?” You feel your heart grow lighter inside your chest and smile excitedly.

You take your seat in the middle of the couch, between Gaz and Price. Soap rapidly moves to the armrest, sitting on it awkwardly and leaning towards Price to make sure he’s in the shot. He pulls the Santa hat down onto his head slightly and smiles.

Price wraps his arm around your ribcage to pull you closer and Gaz motions Ghost closer. Ghost mirrors Soap position, only he doesn’t lean in as much. He tries to look over at the camera lens as you extend your arm as far as you can. You press the small red button. The flash practically blinds you and you can’t help laughing.

The film rolls out of the camera and you take it out, looking at it for a moment and leaving it aside to cure. While it does, you start another animated conversation with the others and you attempt to take more pictures of you and Soap, or Price and Gaz... Soap insists that you take one of him with his gift, you happily oblige. The apartment gets filled with laughter, loud voices and colourful curse words. The first picture you’ve taken still sits on the small table behind you, colours slowly getting brighter.

And when the picture is finally legible on the white film, you will be able to see how Ghost doesn’t in fact look at the lens and instead watches you intently from the corner of his eyes. And you will be able to tell just how gentle his eyes really are when he is looking at you - only you.

Taglist : @stressyanddepressyfoodservice @fatedeniedhope @cabreezer0117 (I probably need to redo that taglist cause I don't think it's up to date, sorry if I missed anyone...)

#cod mw22 #cod mwii #cod mw2 fanfic #ghost cod mw2 #simon riley imagine #simon ghost riley #ghost call of duty #john soap mactavish #captain john price #kyle gaz garrick #reader insert #ghost x reader #ghost x you #mutual pining #christmas eve #domestic fluff #task force 141 #call of duty mwii

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alovesreading · 1 year

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Constant Repeat | Part 7

Summary: Having worked at Focus Creeps for a year, Ella knows that as a production assistant and part of the crew, there’s one important rule: don’t interact with the talent unless it’s needed. But once she meets Arctic Monkeys, and the recording of the music videos for their upcoming fourth studio album starts, the band seem to become her exception. Not only because they treat her more like a friend than just someone else they’re working with but when Alex continuously makes her blush with his flirting, so enthralled by her that he forgets he’s got a girlfriend, Ella finds herself growing closer to him. As videos are filmed, wrapped and edited, the friendship lines become blurry. Situations unfold, secrets are told and others are kept under lock and key, but how long can Alex and Ella endure being stuck in each other’s minds on constant repeat.

Word Count: 16.8k

Story Warnings: Throughout this series there will be suggestive talk, jealousy, cheating, alcohol and drug use, angst, smut.

A/N: Happy Friday my lovelies! This is probably one of my favorite chapters and you'll know why by the end of it. Seeing your reactions to this one is gonna be a wonderful birthday gift hahaha, so I'm very excited to see what you think of it!! Enjoy xx

Masterlist

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It was the start of the second week of the year and Matt had just arrived in Los Angeles. Ella had picked Breana up early to go and pick him up from the airport, and she had acted like the couple's reunion hadn't made her tear up. She truly loved them both so much, even if they were a multiplied menace together.

The three went to have breakfast, with Julian joining them shortly after they had been seated. It was a cute little bakery that had some of the best pastries and coffee Ella had ever had, she went there so often that she was recognized by the staff.

"So how were the holidays?" Ella let her cup of tea rest on the table softly to give the drummer her whole attention, hoping to hear only wonderful things about the holiday season in his hometown.

Matt just shrugged, knowing it had been good but like usual, "Really good, nothing too interesting. Got to spend time with my mum and dad, the lads..." But he trailed off, remembering his grand discovery. "Well..." He started with bubbling excitement but when he realized Julian was there, and Ella was very much not single, he decided against telling her. It would only bring trouble. "No, yeah, nothing interesting."

Ella chuckled, sarcastically replying, "Don't sound so sure there."

"Sorry, I thought something worth telling had happened but it's nothing." It was something, but he just couldn't say it. It was a bad idea. "Hope you spoiled this one for me during the holidays." Matt was quick to change the subject, hugging his girlfriend into his side.

Ella smirked, "Surely, I did. I'm sure Julian got a bit jealous over how much time I was spending with her rather than with him."

"These two right?" Matt asked jokingly, with a facial expression that screamed 'can you believe them?'

Julian shook his head, "They're unbelievable."

"Don't go complaining much, most of the time we spend together is when we take those pictures you two love so much." Bre fought, raising her finger up in the air and pointing at both the men accusingly.

Matt lifted his hands up, "Right, right."

Ella wanted to taunt the drummer some more so she added, "Don't show him the pictures from the last session we had, make him beg for them."

"Jesus Christ," Matt scoffed playfully, "Does she always have you begging, mate?"

Ella turned her gaze to Julian, scowling at him. "You will not disclose that information."

"I won't," Julian agreed but then he turned to Matt and mouthed, "Sometimes."

Bre smirked and Matt laughed, Ella smacked Julian's hand which was resting on top of her thigh. The two boys were nothing but trouble.

The next seven days had been just like that, pure banter coming from the drummer, mainly targeted at Ella. He just couldn't hold himself back from teasing her, it was funny seeing her glaring at him all annoyed.

Ella had spent most of the days third wheeling for Bre and Matt, but she truly didn't mind. Julian had started the year with full force, work taking him away most of the week but she wouldn't complain, not when he enjoyed what he did so much and he still made sure to text her sweet things and updates about his whereabouts throughout the day. He had promised her to spend the weekends he had free with her and that's exactly what they had done the weekend before the rest of the band was due to arrive.

When Monday morning arrived, she was ecstatic to go back into the rhythm of things at the studio but much more excited to have her friends back. She was determined to start the year well, having fully let go of any grudges she had from her past with Alex and with her mind set on having things be the way they had been before, when they first had met.

She gave them all a tight hug when she had gotten to Rancho de la Luna.

"How's everything been?" Ella asked them all, and they all replied positively with smiles on their faces. They were brief at telling her how the holidays had been but it all sounded so nice, she was happy for them.

She'd smiled back at them and, once inside, they all rolled right back into the groove of things.

About three hours into the time they'd been there, James had gotten sent the final version of a song they'd done in their last week in LA. They had all agreed in wanting to hear it so James plugged his laptop to the audio system and played it.

The drums quickly drowned the room and then joined the bass which made the room vibrate, the guitar soon came after and Ella was already obsessed with the song.

She hadn't been prepared when Alex's sultry voice started singing, but hearing the first word be the name Arabella got her thinking about how this song was a love song for Arielle.

She cooed internally, thinking about how adorable Alex was for that.

When it got to the chorus, she'd gotten excited over hearing their own version of the 'War Pigs' guitar riff. She'd started beaming at the music she was listening to.

She was slightly confused about the first line of the second verse, feeling oddly personally addressed but it just had to be her brain trying to make shit about herself. She even ignored the fact that the chorus lyrics reminded her of when they were driving down San Diego's coast on the way to that restaurant they visited after Belmont Park.

But when the bridge started and it brought back those memories with each line, she couldn't help her smile faltering, falling down until it completely disappeared. She couldn't believe what she had just heard, her thoughts too scattered to even gush over the stunning guitar solo that was bouncing off the walls by the end.

Ella only snapped back to reality when the last chord of the guitar died inside the room and the lads started eagerly talking about the song and how it had ended up sounding. She was too stunned to speak, having trouble letting the words roll off her tongue when Jamie asked her if she'd liked it.

Forcing herself to smile, Ella nodded, "Oh, yeah, you absolutely killed that Black Sabbath guitar riff." Her gaze was swimming around the room but trying her hardest to keep it from falling on Alex's. "What's the name of this one?" She asked just to make sure.

"Arabella." Jamie replied with a soft grin and she could only nod.

She was so confused, her steps slow as she went back to the settee and focused again on replying to emails but as the minutes passed and the letters on the screen turned into one single blob of unreadable imagery, she decided she needed a breather.

She grabbed her cigarettes and lighter and exited the place. Her shaky legs were barely able to carry her up to where her bike was parked. She plopped down on it, sighing with her head still scrambled. What the fuck? The whiplash she'd gotten from that song was enough to make her want to take the day off.

So much for wanting things to go back to normal.

She sat there, with the sun keeping her warm despite the chilly winds of January, smoking until she felt better. It was on her third cigarette that she had tried to turn the situation around in her head—Maybe he just wrote it a long while ago, she convinced herself and the more she said it, the more it became more factual.

She nodded as she threw the dying bud and stepped on it—It will be the only one about me, he's happy and in love with Arielle.

That's the one thought she kept on loop as she walked back in, going to the kitchen and pouring herself a shot of the studio's brand of tequila. She fucking needed it.

Ella was startled when she left the shot glass with a thud on the kitchen counter and Matt had seen her swallow the gulp of alcohol, "Oi!" He'd exclaimed, "We starting the party early today?" The clock showed a pitiful 12:23pm which made her sigh heavily—it was gonna be such a long day for her.

"Be my guest." Her voice didn't sound inviting at all as she poured a shot for her friend.

Matt frowned at her, "Well if you're gonna be the one starting the party, you should come alive a bit. Damn."

"Piss off." She muttered, no energy left at all to deal with Matt's teasing.

He snorted, "You hated the song that much?"

She shook her head, "No. It was... it was good, just–" She started, but she had to bite her tongue not to spill it out to Matt. "When did you record that one? After I was gone?"

He downed the alcohol without much of a reaction to the taste, "Yeah, we made it pretty quickly actually. I think it might be one of the best and fastest songs we've done for this record so far."

Ella hummed, not knowing what to do with that information. She just turned to the sink to wash the glass and then followed Matt back to the recording room.

When she'd walked through the door, it was like no one had realized how much the song had affected her. Alex was sitting in a chair with a guitar in his hand, next to James and Nick who were also in their own chairs but in front of the massive mixing console.

Their backs were facing her, and she was grateful for that—she was sure her every thought was written all over her face.

She knew she wasn't brave enough to ask Alex about it, to confront him or get any reasoning from him, so she just decided to ignore the whole situation. She had wanted the whole recording period to go smoothly and drama free, but she now knew there was never gonna be a dull moment as long as she was around the band.

Taking a deep breath she reminded herself of her plan of action, just ignore it. And just like that she forced herself to resume sorting through emails, hearing Alex mumbling along a melody he was playing on the guitar.

Isn't it hard to make up your mind

When you're losing and your fuse is fireside?

She heard them celebrate at the sudden composition of the lines, encouraging Alex to go over it again and see if he could come up with anything else. His brain was going a thousand miles per hour, trying to find the perfect words to rhyme for the first part of the verse he was coming up with.

After a few tries he knew which configuration of lines he'd liked better, settling for:

I'm not sure if I should show you what I've found

Has it gone for good, or is it coming back around?

Isn't it hard to make up your mind

When you're losing and your fuse is fireside?

James nodded eagerly, "That's it. That's it mate." he patted Alex's shoulder proudly, "Sounds like a good chorus actually, we can make it one."

Alex and Nick nodded, having worked with James so many times before meant that the band trusted him fully to take out the full potential of whatever they'd come up with.

That's how that day, Ella had gotten back home humming the melody of the song. She dropped her bag on her sofa and ran to her room to call Breana.

She'd told her all about it, trying her hardest not to mess up the order of the lyrics she could remember and asked the model if she was overreacting, to which Bre firmly said no, agreeing that it was something she'd freak out over too.

Breana had helped her settle adding, "He's a musician though, honey, they all do that. Don't be surprised if there's another one there about you."

Ella groaned, "I rather not. I hope Arielle doesn't even notice about this one." She stayed quiet for a few seconds before she whined in dismay, "Why did he have to go and record a song about me when he has a fucking girlfriend?!"

Breana giggled on the other side, "'Cause he's a man, babe."

Ella sighed, "Fucks sake."

"He could've been more discreet though, don't you think?" Bre added, amused. "He literally has your name in the title of it."

Ella whined like she was in pain, "Why are you making it worse?"

A hard laugh was what she got as a response, "And there's also some of Arielle's name there but that's purely to fool everyone."

Ella rubbed her temples, tired. "I just hope they scrap it from the final record, they told me they had recorded some more songs in London back then along with 'R U Mine?' and 'Electricity' so I'm crossing my fingers they do the same for this one."

"Hopefully, yeah." Her best friend agreed, "Just, don't lose your mind about this okay? If there's any trouble with his girlfriend, it's all his fault."

"I will try my hardest. The worst part is that the song is good..." She was truly in dismay but then she heard the muffled sound of Breana's doorbell through the phone and she laughed, knowing exactly who that was meant to be, "Right, have a fun night hun."

Bre giggled, the sound filled with joy, "I will. Love you! Bye!"

"Love you too, bye!"

The line died, and Ella sighed. What had she done in her past life to deserve this? She was so stressed about the whole thing, she was close to start pulling her hair out.

But then her phone rang and when she saw it was her boyfriend, she felt like she could escape the situation for a bit. Hearing Julian's voice was a breath of fresh air, and him telling her he was coming over was like everything had lifted off her shoulders.

What would she do without him?

✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧

Julian having four days free to spend with Ella was the cure to it all. The next few days at the studio had gone by like a breeze when she knew she would be coming back home to him.

But the day she'd come back home from the studio to kiss him goodbye, since he was leaving for a week to work in San Francisco, it had all gone to shit.

Every bit of calmness that Julian had given her after the 'Arabella' situation was thrown out the window when none other than Arielle called her in despair.

"Hi Arielle! How are you?" Ella had asked her in a chipper tone but her whole face fell when she heard the model sniffling on the other side of the call.

"Hi Ellie, not that well to be completely honest."

Ella was completely confused, she wasn't close enough to Arielle to receive a phone call from her during a low moment but that didn't mean she wasn't going to be kind to her and help in any way if she could. "I'm so sorry, is everything okay? Anything I can do for you?"

"I was wondering if you knew anything–" Arielle started but her voice broke and Ella's heart hurt for her, "I saw you were with the guys at the studio already," She remembered the picture she'd posted the day before of the lads just doing their thing, scattered around in the studio.

Ella had no idea what this all was about but what she didn't expect was the model suddenly asking, "How's Alex?"

Her frown got impossibly deeper after that, "Alex? What do you–"

"We broke up." Arielle was quick to say like the words were burning her tongue, "Well, he broke up with me."

Ella pouted to herself, feeling a wave of sadness for the model but the confusion was still very much there because Alex seemed so okay at the studio. "I'm so sorry to hear that, Arielle. I had no idea. I don't think anyone knows... No one mentioned a thing at the studio."

Arielle covered a sob with her hand, heart breaking a bit more at seeing that apparently he hadn't told a single person about it, Matt had texted her earlier asking her if she was joining them anytime soon and that had been a cruel reminder of what had happened, hence why she had decided to call Ella.

"Right." She replied defeated, "I had hoped he'd told you about it, just so I could get some answers."

"What do you mean?" Ella's confusion grew every time Arielle said something else.

"It's just– He broke up with me out of nowhere, Ella." The model took a deep shaky breath and continued, "Can I tell you something in confidence? It's gonna be TMI but I–"

Ella nodded despite knowing Arielle couldn't see her, "'Course you can, it's okay."

But Ella wasn't prepared for what she would get in return, "I'm so sorry, this is so TMI but I'm just baffled," She started again as if she was giving Ella the chance to take it back but at the silence, she sighed, "The night before, Ella, I swear we had the best sex we'd had in months. He fucked me dumb, telling me how gorgeous I was over and over. He called me darling! He's never used that for me before, I–. Fuck, I'm just going crazy trying to understand this."

Ella was shocked. Not only to have to be hearing this but she truly wouldn't have suspected a thing from Alex's behavior—and she was sure the lads didn't know either because only a few days ago Jamie had made a joke and teased him about the singer's girlfriend to which Alex only had replied with a short chuckle.

She decided to ignore the details Arielle had given her, which weren't many but the fact that Alex had called Arielle darling for the first time in that moment had Ella shifting in her place uncomfortably.

"Arielle, I'm so sorry. I genuinely had no idea, he seemed so normal." She sighed, biting on her thumb. "Jamie mentioned you a few days ago, to tease him and he didn't say a thing. He just laughed and kept doing whatever he was doing."

"It's okay Ellie, I guess I will always wonder what happened..." The model sounded so defeated but she continued telling Ella what had happened that last day, "The next morning he made me breakfast and everything, and in the middle of it he just said he couldn't keep our relationship going. Just like that." A curt chuckle came from Arielle, "He almost said that 'it's not you, it's me' bullshit."

Ella winced, "Oh fuck that..."

Arielle could only hum in agreement and then remembered her poor timing, "Sorry Ella, I probably just interrupted something."

"No, no. Was about to go to bed. Don't you worry Ari, truly." Ella consoled her, "We could go out this weekend? To drink and dance it all away? Julian just left for work and I'll be alone for a week, I'm sure Bre will be down for a girls night." Yes, Alex was her friend but Arielle was one as well so Ella wasn't choosing any sides and if there was anything she could do to help Arielle feel better then she'd do it.

Arielle smiled, silent tears rolling down her cheeks at Ella's kindness. "I would yeah, just send me a text and I'll go wherever."

"Sure. Now go dry those tears hun, he doesn't deserve them."

Arielle giggled, wiping her cheeks. "Thank you, Ellie. Have a goodnight."

"You too Arielle, can't wait to hug you soon. Goodnight."

Fucking hell.

Ella had no idea what the fuck had just happened but she'd decide to ignore it for as long as she could. She needed to relax.

So she rolled a joint, and started smoking out in her backyard. In between puffs, she decided to call Breana and quickly tell her everything, also make sure she was in on going out with Arielle two days from then.

Needless to say, retelling everything had left her even more confused and she ignored the silence on Breana's side when she mentioned his use of the pet name for Arielle. In the back of her mind, Ella knew just what her best friend was thinking but she didn't want to give that another thought.

The next day, Ella had been extra observant, her eyes on Alex at all times and by the end of the day, she was fully intrigued.

She'd bitten her tongue all day, waiting for the perfect moment to bring it up but when they were all leaving and she hadn't had a chance to talk to him alone, she basically baited him into staying a bit longer before they left.

Ella asked him for a cigarette, knowing damn well that would make him stay to have one with her. Two minutes had passed of them smoking as they watched the sun die on the horizon, when she gained the courage to ask.

"How's Arielle? Haven't seen her in a while." In her mind it made more sense to go straight to the point, like ripping a bandaid.

What she hadn't expected is for him to hide behind an inquiry of his own, "How's Julian?"

She chuckled quietly to herself, someone's defensive. "He went to San Francisco yesterday night, he's doing a weeklong shoot over there for some city event." And then she turned to him with an eyebrow raised, challenging him to respond to her question.

Alex barely looked at her then, he was afraid that if he told Ella about his new relationship status while looking her in the eye he might beg with them for her to have him.

"We broke up." His statement was simple, not heartfelt at all—it sounded more like he said it fast to get it over and done with.

"Oh," She muttered, trying to contort her face in the best way so he didn't notice she already knew.

But Alex didn't even turn to look at her, he kept his gaze straight ahead of him and took a long drag of his cigarette.

"I'm sorry." She added, hating the suffocating silence.

The singer only shrugged though, "It's okay, just wasn't right anymore."

Her hum was low and quiet, Ella had no idea what to say. "Are you okay?"

He offered her a half smile, "Yeah, why?"

"I don't know, you just seem so normal. Do the guys know?"

"No, don't tell them." Alex silently begged her, "Matt's gonna try and set me up with someone, or worse he's gonna force me to go out on the pull– I can't be arsed."

Ella giggled, fully convinced Matt would. She offered her pinky finger, and Alex locked it with his—the 'death ramps' ring on her skin once again. "Promise."

When she was done with her cigarette, she discarded it on the ground. They hugged each other goodbye and he watched her as she left on her bike.

He shook his head, now that she knew he had no idea what to do with himself. Especially not when he still felt her pinky finger intertwined with his and his skin craved her at all times.

✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧

Alex had seen Arielle's post that weekend, the three girls with tequila shots in hand and flipping the camera off.

He had no idea how that had happened, if it had been something planned before he'd told Ella about the breakup or if Ella had called Arielle and taken her out because of it. But he didn't care much, as long as they'd had fun then it would be fine by him—he thought it was kind of Ella and Bre to take Arielle out to distract her after everything.

Ella knew Alex had seen it, the look on his face was enough to know but she was glad to see he seemed completely fine about it. Maybe even happy, as the singer asked her subtly if she'd had fun, she nodded with a smile and added "Trying to power through the hangover though."

That day had been quite calm, the lads had focused on giving a few modifications to some of the songs they had been making and putting on a queue to finish later. Of course Ella was recording the whole process, she'd left the camera on the end of the table they were all sitting by so the angle had the camera catching perfectly what they were all doing.

They had gone back to 'Fireside', trying to make the verses work with the melody they'd been creating and she had been watching it all unfold from her usual place on the settee so she managed to catch Matt instantly when he went to disturb the footage she was getting.

"Oi! Matthew!" She called out after the drummer had stuck his face right in front of the lenses of the recording device, "Stop fucking with the footage."

Jamie had cackled loudly as he turned to point at Ella, "You've just said 'oi', you're officially spending too much time with us."

"Only because I'm getting paid for it." Ella joked with a straight face.

"Same here." added James, making Alex laugh beside him.

His chuckles were contagious, making the rest of the room erupt in laughter. Ella loved moments like these, it was just pure bliss for everyone around.

The hours were going by and the guys had reached the point where they had exhausted their brains too much over finding the perfect placements for the verses in the song, so they moved on to talking about random shit.

Ella had gotten a call from Julian in the middle of Matt telling his childhood antics and how he'd fake being ill to skip school, so she excused herself to go outside. It hadn't been a long call, just about ten minutes since it was all her boyfriend had gotten of free time while working.

When she'd gone back to the room, it was all a frenzy. They were arguing so loud, she grimaced at the change of volume compared to the crickets softly building up a choir outside as the night fell.

"What is going on?" She couldn't even make up what it was that they were talking about.

"Ella, how many instruments can you play?" Nick asked quickly.

The question was so sudden, she automatically let out a confused, "Huh?"

The bassist sighed, he wanted to prove a point, "How many instruments can you play?"

"None," She blushed as it was embarrassing to admit in a room full of musicians.

Matt turned fast to the bassist, "See! Told you."

Nick shook his head, "No, c'mon, you gotta at least know one. Even if it's simple."

The PA stayed quiet under their attentive stares, thinking about how she'd only really played one instrument consistently at a point in her life. "Xylophone." She mumbled to herself, somehow that was even more embarrassing to her than saying she didn't know how to play a single instrument.

"What?" Jamie asked since he was the closest to her and not even him had been able to hear correctly.

She raised her volume enough for them to hear her, "The damn xylophone."

Matt had laughed out loud, whereas the rest of the band had smiled amused at her. She rolled her eyes at their reactions, the only one she liked at the moment was James who was smiling at her understanding how annoying they could be.

Nick turned back to Matt and brought their argument back up, "See! At least one."

Matt refused to accept his defeat, "Not agreeing with you until she plays it. She can say she knows but she might not."

Ella sighed exasperated, "Why would I lie dumbass? That'd be even worse. If you find me a glockenspiel then I'll play it for you, dick."

Matt stood up and went to find the percussion instrument not before telling her, "You're on it." as he walked past her.

Five minutes later, she was sitting in front of a coffee table where the thirty note glockenspiel rested. She had two little wooden mallets, one on each hand, and she started getting nervous under the gaze of all the boys.

"I feel like I'm back on fucking eight grade about to perform for father's day, Jesus Christ."

Matt was ready to take the piss out of her so he encouraged her, "Go on then."

She'd rolled her eyes before thinking back to her last few years in middle school and how she'd been assigned band as extracurriculars. She'd chosen the xylophone because she really hadn't want much of a challenge, it was enough that she'd had to be in band to start with.

So Ella hit the first note and after that E note reached her ears, it was like memory had completely taken over. She played 'Für Elise' smoothly and when she was done she flipped Matt off, "Whatever it was, Nick won."

The drummer waved her off like one waves an annoying mosquito, "But everyone knows how to play that song in whichever instrument they know."

She didn't say anything back to him, just grabbed the mallets back up and with a C note she started playing 'Fly Me to the Moon' by Sinatra. Right after she'd finished with the chorus of it, she started playing 'Take On Me' by A-ha and just to shut him up she finished her repertoire with 'Bohemian Rhapsody' by Queen.

Ella remembered the endless days she'd practice that last song until she got it to perfection, her middle school self was really hard on herself—she still remained the same in that aspect.

Everyone but Matt started clapping making Ella blush, "Thank you, thank you." She took a small bow, "I cannot believe I still remember how to play those songs, haven't played since I started high school."

"Well she can actually play an instrument, so your argument is fucked Matt." Concluded Nick with a victorious smirk on his face.

The drummer rolled his eyes and proceeded to stand up, "Whatever, Ella might be able to but I stand my ground."

She was confused but, honestly, she didn't want to bring the whole thing back up so she decided to just stay with the curiosity. "Where'd you get this? So I can put it away." She asked Matt but before he could answer, Alex interrupted.

"Actually, can you help me?"

Ella set the mallets back on the table, "With what?"

"I feel like we should try and make a soft song," He looked for words to describe what he wanted to do, "Like a lullaby of sorts."

Ella slowly nodded, not so sure if she'd be much help but agreeing nonetheless, "Sure, yeah. Just... I never really composed anything so I'm gonna be hitting notes like a dickhead for a while until I manage to find a melody that sounds right."

Alex shrugged, "That's fine. Would you like to go to another room so you can do it in peace?" He subtly nodded towards Matt and Ella chuckled.

"Yes, please."

A few minutes later, Ella and Alex were settled in the keyboard room. She set the glockenspiel on the small table she was sitting in front of and Alex sat beside her with a Gibson J-45 on his lap.

She had no idea what to do first so she laughed embarrassed, hiding her face in her hands. "Alex what do I do?" Her giggles kept going as she felt her cheeks grow hot.

He laughed with her and started playing random chords to distract her, "Whatever you'd like, just go at it and when you play something you like try to write down the notes so you don't forget."

His journal was open then, in front of her with the pen he always used to write resting in the crease of the middle of the open book. The pages were blank and intimidating, she was so nervous for some reason and she didn't want to disappoint him so the pressure was even greater.

But after an hour, Ella found that making music with Alex was truly an easy smooth ride. He'd played different melodies, sometimes along with the random notes she was playing and when they'd fallen on a pattern that sounded beautiful, she gasped.

"No fucking way." She was truly blown away by the fact that she had been able to help in the making of something that sounded actually pretty.

He smiled proudly at her, "That was stunning. You remember the notes?"

She nodded eagerly, grabbing the pen with her right hand to start writing it down as she played it with her left hand slowly.

It was a tiny part, but it was a start and Alex seemed to really like it. Soon, Alex was playing away on the guitar like a door had been opened and the inspiration had just flooded out.

Alex raised his eyebrows expectantly when he was done with all he was coming up with, "That sound good?"

"Beautiful." She confirmed with a beaming grin on her face.

They went over it again and again, Ella timidly adding a few notes here and there which he always smiled and nodded to. She had a good sense of timing where to put them.

Ella listened to him attentively as he played the chorus again, "I think the bass coming on after the second chorus would lift it all up, maybe everyone could come in after it."

He had a thought, "Change it all, maybe to start a bridge..."

Ella nodded excitedly, that sounded great.

They went over it again, he was racking his brain trying to find anything that he wanted to sing about to such a slow-tempo song.

She'd seen times before how he mumbled as he played, trying to find the perfect words that fit the song, and how like that, slowly, the lines came to life.

On this occasion it wasn't different, the chorus being played by him over and over again as he formed sentences. He seemed to have settled for 'Mad sounds, in your ear. Make you get up and dance' and it sounded beautiful.

"What is it about?" She asked as he wrote the lyric in the journal, his handwriting contrasting against hers on the bottom of the page.

"Dunno yet." He stared at the words he'd just written, what did he want to write about?

"Sounds like the start of an ode to music."

His eyes went over the words again, seeing it in that light made sense. Maybe he'd try and make it go in that direction. "You're right, it does."

Ella smiled once again, feeling very much overjoyed at the new experience she'd just gone through. She was sad about the fact that she hadn't caught at least something on camera, having left it in the other room after the battery died earlier.

When they went back to where the rest of the band and James were, sipping on beer bottles as they chatted, her cheeks hurt from smiling. They showed them all what they'd come up with and Alex made sure they heard Ella's idea.

Matt had stood up and crushed Ella in a hug, "That sounds fucking lovely, welcome to the band Ellie." Her giggles filled the room as Matt squeezed her tighter and she tried to get away from him.

"Thanks but I'll leave that to y'all, I'm not a rockstar." Matt let go of her, and ruffled her hair just to annoy her. She shrieked as her hair came all over her face, she poked him in the ribs making him yelp so loud, it got a chesty laugh out of her.

Alex couldn't wipe the smile out of his face, nothing would. Not only had he gotten Ella to be part of this experience but she had enjoyed it, and seeing her genuinely happy was all he wanted. He'd have to get used to not having her with him in the way he wanted, as long as he had her as a friend then that'd have to be enough.

✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧

The days had gone by fast—between songs getting written on and wiped off the whiteboard they had on the room now, demos getting sent and returned, Ross Orton joining James Ford in the production of some of the songs, days they'd stayed well past the time they had planned, spending weekends at different places of the city. The year was going incredibly well so far.

One afternoon of the very last week of January, they had found themselves rather bored and stuck. They had gone to a pub the night before and they'd been absolutely plastered before it was even two in the morning.

Ella vaguely remembered holding Breana's hair back as she heaved in the pub's bathroom from her attempt at taking consecutive shots of tequila.

So they were all wearing sunglasses indoors, the curtains were closed—but it wasn't doing much because they were pretty much see-through—, sitting in the worst positions on the settees.

"Shouldn't we have just taken the day off?" Jamie wondered with a groan, he had drank just enough but having to basically carry Nick out of the pub to the cab and out of the cab and to the hotel was what had exhausted him completely. "Not even James, nor Ross are coming today."

"It was already booked for us, mate." Replied Alex, his head thrown back and resting on the back of the settee.

Ella grimaced as she sat back straighter and reached for her bag, she smiled seeing the ziplock bag she'd brought with her. She didn't even know why she'd thought it would be the best idea to bring them to the studio but if there was a possibility of nursing their hangovers then she'd take it.

"Would these help?" She lifted the plastic bag in the air, it said 'sandwich bag' and it made her chuckle because inside there could be seen five thick spliffs waiting to be smoked.

No one really cared to see what it was. Ten in the morning was too early for them to want to be there, but when she moved the bag around in the air and opened it, the smell of weed hit them so suddenly that they instantly perked up.

Alex straightened up beside her, taking his sunglasses off and squinting to adjust to the light coming from outside. "What the fuck?"

Nick cleared his throat, "Didn't know you smoked."

"Don't be too surprised." She shrugged, getting her lighter and resting the ziplock bag on her lap, "University parties get you started quite easily..." She trailed off trying to figure out how it would work out, "Should we just pass it around or do each of you want your own?"

"Let's pass it around, so we can smoke for longer." Jamie said logically, he'd rather smoke slowly and throughout the day than finish the weed in fifteen minutes and then have to endure the day being sleepy and still hungover.

Ella lit up the first one, taking a long drag of it and relishing in the familiar feeling of the smoke in her throat. She let the smoke out and passed the spliff to Alex, who mirrored her actions.

By the time the second spliff was done, they were chatting about stupid things. They'd gotten hungry and seeing that it was past noon, they all settled in ordering McDonald's—there had been an overall consensus on how it was the best food to have while high.

They had basically smoked the whole day and when they had smoked the last two, consecutively, it was already nighttime. They were all outside stargazing, the blue of the night so piercing that the spheres of plasma contrasted brightly against it and let their presence known to anyone who could catch it.

For some reason she had started going on and on about everything she knew about galaxies, space and celestial objects. Surprisingly, the lads encouraged her to keep going which ended up in all of them agreeing on how, as kids, they thought that by 2013 they'd be driving flying cars and being able to buy lightsabers at the shops—even admitting that they'd thought time traveling would've been a thing already.

That's how they had ended up back in the recording room, completely determined on how they had to make a song about it all. She'd sat beside Alex, reading the things they'd all come up with and nodding like it was the best line ever written. Jamie was playing the guitar and Nick his bass, Matt patting his thighs as he analyzed what his friends were composing.

She wasn't sure what had happened afterwards as she woke up and found herself sleeping on the biggest settee of their usual recording room. Alex was sleeping on the one adjacent and Matt was snoring away on the floor, with a cushion under his head.

Her groan made the two men stir in their slumber. She grabbed her phone that was thrown in a corner of the room and saw that it was five in the morning. Her back was killing her, why the fuck hadn't we just taken a cab home? she wondered as she walked out to the bathroom.

From afar she saw Jamie sleeping peacefully on the settee in the keyboards room and Nick sleeping on the one by the kitchen.

She was grateful she had been way too hungover to actually do her makeup the day before so the smudge of her mascara was very minimal and she got rid of it easily by washing her face.

Once she was done, she went to the kitchen to make some coffee for everyone. She was drinking a glass of water when Nick's voice startled her.

"Good morning, why the fuck did we sleep here?" Since he'd just woken up, his voice was so much deeper than usual and it actually surprised her.

"I have no idea, I don't even remember at what time we fell asleep."

Nick sighed, rubbing his eyes and stood up slowly. "What time is it?"

"Like five twenty" She cringed, it was still dark out but the birds could be heard singing softly.

The bassist cussed and left to use the toilet. She poured herself and Nick a cup of coffee, it was piping hot as it had just been made in the coffee maker the studio had.

It took about half an hour for everyone to wake up, Matt being the last and the one who complained the most.

"Why would yous let me sleep on the fucking floor?" He said through his teeth, making an appearance in the kitchen.

Jamie scoffed, "I tried to get you on one of the settees but you ran back to the main room saying you had to add something to the song."

Ella remembered then that they had all made a song, "Oh my god... We made a song, didn't we?" They all nodded, sipping on their coffees. "Fuck, I don't even know if I wanna listen to it."

But as soon as they finished with their drinks and they had washed and dried it all, they went to the recording room to hear the demo. The bass was prominent in it, and the guitars complimented it perfectly. Alex's voice was slurred and it made them all laugh, but they quieted down at the guitar solo by the end of the recording.

"The guitars are fucking sick in this one." Ella said in appreciation, she was not expecting something actually that good when they had all been in the worst state.

Nick agreed, looping it back to hear the guitar solo once more. "Has b-side potential, to be fair."

They played it once more, hearing the lyrics more closely this time.

It's two thousand and thirteen all across the galaxy

It's two thousand and thirteen

So, baby, take a walk with me

Past flying cars and time machines

There's magic like you won't believe

Ella let the song reach its end to comment, "We are aware that the galaxy is far older, right? Like..." She paused to clear her dry throat, "It was only Jesus who was supposedly born two thousand and thirteen years ago, not the galaxy..."

Matt let out a loud sigh, "Ellie, we're not high anymore so stop nerding out."

"That's just common knowledge–" She argued.

"Ella." He replied sternly.

"Matthew J Helders the third," She said back in the same tone. "Shut. Up."

"Yes Matt, fuck off." Nick sided with Ella and Jamie repeated the same phrase to support the motion.

The drummer scoffed, "Why am I being bullied right now?"

"Because you deserve it." Alex replied this time.

Matt frowned, "I do not."

"I still remember you slandering Bre's favorite Fleetwood Mac record so if you want to keep your stunning girlfriend then shut up."

That had been the only reason why Matt stood quiet for a good ten seconds, and then he told her. "I can't stand you."

Ella gave him a cynical smile, "The feeling is mutual."

Jamie cackled at them, "You two are like fucking siblings arguing, I swear."

Before they could continue bickering though, they heard the front door being opened and closed and by the time they went out to see who it was, they were greeted by the sight of David coming in.

"Good morning everyone," Dave greeted with a smile on his face. "Was coming to check on you, how are you feeling? Slept well?"

Alex nodded, "Yeah mate, thanks very much."

"I tried to get you all a ride home but you all agreed on staying so..." The bearded man added and they all nodded.

"Thank you for letting us stay, man." Matt patted his back in gratitude. "We're just gonna go pick everything up and then we'll leave."

They didn't have the studio booked for the next few days so they gathered all of their stuff up and tidied the rest of the things they had used. They left the place as the sun rose up, Ella waved them off as she took the opposite direction to where they were going. Alex saw the sun hitting the little mirrorball hanging from her rearview mirror, making the light reflect all over the inside of her car.

"Love you guys! Bye!" She yelled out her rolled down window, disappearing into the highway.

✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧

Things had been going normal. After those three days they'd had in a sense of a small break, they had gone back to the studio with fresh ideas and the energy buzzed in the room whenever they were all together.

Ella had been more and more invested in the whole process, sometimes asking each of the guys what different things did or how they managed to get an instrument to sound the way it did in their demos. James had gotten used to having Ella beside him in the days Ross wasn't at the studio.

She was usually there first, smoking away as she waited for them, greeting whoever arrived first with a lovely smile and her arms open and ready for a hug.

That's why at the start of the second week of February, Alex had been incredibly confused at not seeing her already there when he got to Rancho de la Luna at eight in the morning.

He greeted David, asking him if Ella was already inside and when he shook his head, the singer's confusion grew. Maybe she'll be late today, he'd told himself so he didn't worry but just in case, he'd left her a text.

(11/02/2013 08:13) Hi Ellie, good morning. Around what time are you coming today? Was surprised to not see you when I got here xx

Slowly, everyone started coming in and when James got to the studio at around ten in the morning, that's when Alex started worrying even more. They hadn't seen her as she usually didn't go to the studio on the weekends like them, where is she? She wasn't one to just miss a work day or be late and not say anything.

Around noon, Matt had gotten a call from Breana—who was currently out in New York for a modeling gig—and Alex would've teased him about how they truly couldn't live without the other if it wasn't for Matt's worried facial expression.

The call was rather quick and all of his replies were meek, it was strange for him to talk like that with Bre so he started to wonder if they had fought or something, but then Matt had told her "Alright, I love you" with a loopy grin on his face before he hung up that had Alex discarding the thought.

Everyone was looking at him expectantly because the call seemed to have had a negative effect on his mood and they wanted to know if everything was alright.

Matt sighed, "Ellie's not gonna make it today, maybe not even the rest of the week." Alex's heart sank at the thought of something having happened to her that could keep her from going to the studio. "She's not feeling very well apparently."

Alex felt his whole body grow cold and it was an instant reaction for him to pick up his phone and leave the room to call her.

He dialed her number over and over for about ten times but none were answered, so he went back to texting her in hopes that it was just that she was ill and had fallen asleep.

(11/02/2013 12:06) Ellie, is everything okay? Bre's just called saying you weren't feeling good and that you'll be missing the next few days here. Just let me know when you see this that you're fine xx

(11/02/2013 12:07) Did you catch a cold? I'll come over with some soup for you, I promise I make the best chicken noodle soup (either it is good or my mum lied) xx

(11/02/2013 12:08) You're probably asleep and I'm being an absolute knob making your phone ring over and over. I'll stop now but just let me know what's going on. Sending you loads of hugs xxxx

The more Alex stared at the clock, the slower time went by. He was too distracted to care about what was going on in the recording room, everyone having to bring him back to reality every five minutes.

By the time it was one thirty in the afternoon, he hadn't been able to take it any longer so he excused himself and ran outside to call Breana. He didn't even care if he'd be interrupting her photoshoot by calling her over and over, he had to know if Ella was okay.

When he rang her for the fifth time, he got his call answered. "Jesus Christ, Alex, is everything alright?"

He was so relieved the model finally picked up, "Yes. Everything's good. Just... Ella. What happened to Ella? Is she okay?"

Breana felt silent, only the shutter of the camera and the clicking of heels on the floor was heard for a few seconds, "Erm, yes. She's just not feeling well."

"Did she get ill? I've been trying to call her and she won't answer." His voice was laced with worry and that wasn't missed by Bre.

Silence again, "Yes..." Bre replied but it sounded like a question and that's when Alex knew she was full of shit.

"Bre, what happened? Is she okay?" His voice got firmer, he didn't understand why she'd be keeping quiet about anything happening to her best friend.

She sighed, "Alex, she's not feeling well and that's all that I can tell you. I promised her I wouldn't say anything else."

"So something did happen," The singer insisted, "Bre, at least let me know her address so I can go check up on her."

"Alex–" The model started in protest but he was quick to interrupt her.

"Bre, you're far away and not coming back until next week. At least let me be the one to check up on her. I just wanna know if she's okay." He heard her sigh and when the line stood silent he continued, "I don't care if she's just ill and you probably think I'm overreacting, I'd rather do that and find out she's okay than brush it off and find out afterwards that something worst has happened and she's been alone."

"Fucking hell, Alex," Breana cursed, giving into his point. "I'll send you it in a text, but just... let me know how she's doing when you get there okay? And hug her tightly for me, please."

He felt like he could finally breathe, "'Course. Cheers, Bre."

It was only seconds after hanging up that Breana sent him Ella's address through text. His hands were sweaty as he went back inside and told the lads he'd be leaving for the day. He didn't even give them time to ask why, because he was out the door as soon as he'd finished his sentence.

Ella's home was only an hour away from the studio but traffic had held him back forty minutes, he'd been fidgeting in his seat all the way to her medium sized one floor house which was painted a gorgeous light green color.

Alex was quick to park his rental-car on her driveway which only had her car present, he figured she had her bike inside her garage. Without missing a beat, he got out of the car and with long fast strides reached her white door and knocked on it.

A long minute went by and no one was opening the door, he knocked harder and rang the doorbell before knocking furiously again. He heard shuffling behind the door and he was relieved but when the door opened, he felt every bit of worry fall over him like a ton of bricks.

Ella was still in her pajamas—a big gray shirt almost covering her red flannel shorts—, her eyes were puffy and just as red as her nose, her hair was a mess in tangles on a bun atop of her head and she had a glass half full on her right hand.

The last person she'd expected was the singer to be standing outside her door, "Alex, what are you doing here?" She was so tired of everything, she just wanted to be alone and wallowing in self pity not having to worry about how she looked and how she was dealing with the shit show that had just unfolded in her life.

"Hey Ellie," His voice was so soft, she was surprised at how just hearing him had felt like a hug. "Are you okay?" He asked, very much worried but not really knowing what to do.

"How did you even find my address? Did Ben or Aaron give you it, I'll kill them." She ranted, on the brink of exploding in anger. Her emotions were a mess, she was a mess, she had no idea what the fuck to do anymore. Nothing made sense to her anymore.

"No, no, I had to beg Bre for it, but what's wrong?" He wanted to know why she looked so broken or, if anything, he just wanted to comfort her. "What are you even drinking?" He took a step towards her and into her house and she stepped back but with the sigh she'd let out, the alcohol in her breath hit him. "Ellie, it's only three in the afternoon."

She laughed, without a hint of humor, "Alex, I truly rather be drunk right now. I do not fucking care what time it is."

He shook his head, watching her leave so he closed the door behind him and followed her steps. "No, absolutely not." He stated and tried to get the glass from her.

"Yes Alex," She downed what was left on the glass before he could get to her, wincing at the whiskey burning her throat. "I've run out of cigarettes, have no weed, I look too crazy to even bother going out to get shit and all I have is whiskey and a few bottles of wine." She used her fingers to count all the misfortunes that had come after the blow she'd taken the night before.

She turned to the whiskey bottle and poured herself another glass, way too full, but it was what she needed. She took a gulp of it and whispered a curse after it struggled to go down her throat.

"Ella, you're gonna have to stop right now." His words were firm, he was trying to be patient but he didn't want her drinking her problems away.

She rolled her eyes, setting the glass down harshly so the alcohol splashed around it. "Alex– I truly don't need you to be logical right now." She took a deep shaky breath and continued, "Just leave okay? You've seen I'm alive. I'm just not feeling good so just go, you have shit to do much more important than me and my fucking mess of a life." The way her voice broke saying that last sentence had him frowning deeper, he wanted to do something, anything to stop feeling the hurt she clearly was was feeling.

"What's wrong, darling? Talk to me." Alex hadn't called her that in a long time, not after he'd caught his mistake in doing that after that call at the Olympics opening ceremony, but he just couldn't help it. He'd tried to reach for her hand but she'd flinched away at the pet name.

It had made her wince, thinking back to what Arielle had told her the month prior about how Alex had called her that as he'd fucked her dumb. She felt so fucking pathetic, so far from special. Am I the problem? She had wondered that all night, as she cried herself to sleep.

She was tired of crying but she couldn't stop it. She was tired of people making her cry, making her believe that she wasn't worthy of anything.

She slowly turned around, sighing heavily before admitting, "He fucking cheated, Al."

Alex felt a blow to his chest, "What?"

Ella's tears cascaded down automatically, breaking his heart in a million little pieces for her. "He's fucking cheated on me, I–" She started but she had to stop as a sob ripped through her. "And you wanna know how I found out? Because his parents caught him in a lie. He told them he'd be going out on dinner with me and when they went to surprise us, they found him with someone else." Her voice raised as she narrated everything, fury in her eyes and the heartbreak making her tremble.

"He fucking admitted to it to them, how he's been seeing this girl for over a month, but when they told him he had to tell me the truth, he fucking refused." A loud scoff came from her, "His mom has had to fucking call me and tell me because this fucking cunt didn't have the balls to say it." She was so baffled, sobbing in disbelief.

Why does it always happen to me? She'd asked herself so many times, she had given up on an answer.

She sniffled, wiping her nose, "So now I've had to break up with him over the fucking phone because I know I wouldn't have been able to do it in person."

Alex walked slowly to get closer to her, not wanting to startle her. "Ellie I'm–" His words were cut by Ella's words of desperation.

"I fucking wanted to marry him Alex! I thought he was it for me!" Pure agony was what was filling every inch of her body and soul. "We had started trying for a baby." She broke down in loud sobs that made her hiccup as she tried to get oxygen back in her lungs.

Alex had no idea what to say to that, he wanted to do nothing more than to murder Julian after torturing him in the most sadistic ways. But she was his priority, making her feel better was what he had to do. He was quick to envelope her in a tight hug, she cried harder hidden in his chest as she fisted his maroon shirt.

Her tears bleed through his shirt and it felt like her heartache was burning his skin. "I just want this hurt gone, I feel like my chest is caving in, Al. I want it gone. Please." Ella begged and her body trembled in his arms. In that moment, all he could think was how he'd do anything to be able to take away the pain from her—he'd carry all of her burdens if it meant she'd be eternally happy, like she deserved.

His left hand was rubbing up and down her back, his right hand holding her head to his chest. He softly shushed her trying to calm her down in the slightest, he had never been good at consoling crying women, but for Ella he'd try and excel at anything she needed from him. "It's gonna be alright Ellie, I promise. You are gonna be okay."

Alex had her walk to the settee with him, she just let him guide her as her cries did nothing but increase.

Pathetic, pitiful, worthless, meaningless, replaceable.

That's all she felt about herself and she hated it, with a deep burning passion.

Alex sat down with her and she scooted onto his side, needing the warmth of his touch around her. She needed someone even if she didn't want to admit it and Alex was determined on keeping his hold on her for as long as she wanted it to.

His fingers started scratching her head, making her relax in her arms. Her sobs started to quiet down after five minutes and her breath slowed down.

"I'm here okay? I'm not leaving." He assured her, looking down at her still shielding on his chest.

She nodded, and she whined softly at the waves of memories coming back to her trying to push her back into a breakdown.

It had been like that since she'd gotten the phone call the night before, she would cry for hours and eventually calm down finding some sleep which was interrupted by the situation being reflected in her dreams, making her start sobbing all over again. She'd only gotten a total of three hours of sleep the night before.

A thought flashed through her head, making her break the hug as her skin crawled in disgust for herself. "I hate this so much," She muttered, recoiling to the corner of the settee, the furthest she could from Alex. "I'm gonna have to go and get tested now, not only for pregnancy but for everything else 'cause I don't even know who he's been fucking. I feel so disgusting."

The singer scooted closer to her, rubbing her arms which were hugging her folded legs closely to her chest.

"He's an absolute prick. I'm so sorry, Ellie. I really truly am." His honesty was so clear but she couldn't take it.

She started crying again, shaking her head. "You have nothing to apologize for. He should be."

That made Alex scowl, "Did he not?"

Ella chuckled entirely unamused at the memory of her phone call to him that had happened earlier that day. "He did, over and over but it just made me sick. He said it so many times it started sounding weird. He didn't mean it at all. He's only sorry for himself, that he got caught."

"I want to kill him." Alex said simply.

Her face contorted in pity for herself, because she still felt how much she loved him. "I want this to be a sick and twisted joke." Her chin wobbled, and he knew exactly what it meant.

Of course she still loved him. That's the type of person she was, always a giver. And she never half assed anything so when she loved, she loved in the very best way: passionately and endlessly. He knew that from the way she talked about her family, her friends, her hobbies, her job.

She threw herself in his arms again and sobbed away, none of them noticing how she was basically straddling his lap and how her breasts were pressed against his chest. Her face was buried on his neck and his arms wrapped around her again, the same way they had been doing before. He could feel the erratic thumping of her heart on the other side of his.

It had been an hour that it had taken Ella to exhaust herself to sleep. When her breathing slowed down and he heard one of her soft snores in his ear, he felt relief flooding his system. He knew then that hated seeing her cry, he hated seeing her in despair, sleep deprived—her dark circles were prominent when she'd opened the door and the sunlight hit her face—, relying on alcohol to drown her sorrows.

She deserved so much better.

He stood up from the sofa with her still in his arms, slowly to not wake her up but not even if he had been more careless could she have startled awake. She was in a deep sleep, having found comfort after long hours of misery.

He set her down on her bed, which was still unmade but not that messy which confirmed to him that she hadn't slept well at all the previous night. The covers were soon over her and all the way up to her chin, she'd let out a sound of satisfaction as she snuggled her pillows.

Alex decided to kick his shoes off and sit beside her, watching her peacefully sleep. Sometimes she'd flinch and start crying, hot tears falling from her closed eyes and wetting the pillow under her head. He'd rub her back, whispering 'you're okay, you're okay' until she settled back down, but it hurt him having to see her like that in the first place.

He felt so helpless.

After about three hours, seeing that she was in deep slumber, he thought it would be good for him to get some food. She had definitely not eaten at all that day so she'd be hungry when she woke up. He slowly put his shoes on and exited her house, grabbing her house keys and writing a little note before leaving.

Alex let himself smile fondly at the Tennessee keychain she had, a little silver cowboy boot it was and it reminded him of her mirrorball.

He had seen a few restaurants about ten minutes from her house so he settled for proximity rather than finding a restaurant he knew was good. The thing he least wanted was for her to wake up and see him gone, even if he had left a note.

The singer had decided to get some films from the redbox rental her neighborhood Walgreens had, wanting her to get distracted and enjoy herself for a little.

Despite him rushing to get back as soon as possible, and getting annoyed at himself for taking much longer than anticipated, when he got back she was still asleep. But it was eight in the evening then, so he had to wake her up to have her eat.

He dropped everything he'd gotten slowly on her kitchen counter and he walked carefully into her room. The bed dipping beside her had her stirring, so he felt less bad when he started brushing her hair back and softly whispered her name to have her wake up.

She'd hummed in response to hearing her name being called and he grinned at her pout, she was so effortlessly breathtaking—it was beyond his understanding.

"C'mon darling, I brought you some food." He finally said and she mumbled gibberish in response, "There's ice cream too and some films."

Her eyes slowly peeled open, her pout was replaced by a frown because she didn't remember much of how the hell Alex had ended up in her house.

Regardless, she rubbed her eyes awake and yawned. Slowly but surely she got up and threaded to the bathroom to freshen up, Alex told her he'd be serving their food in the kitchen and to join him when she was ready.

Twenty minutes later, she was out of the bathroom. Freshly showered, with her hair damp and wetting the back of her shirt. She'd changed her pjs for a 'Queens of the Stone Age' big shirt and some joggers.

Alex wanted to coo, seeing her hugging herself as she walked to the living room where he had set everything up. Italian food—her favorite—, a few bottles of Mexican coke he'd found in a bodega next to Walgreens, and 'Sherlock Holmes' ready to play on her TV.

Ella felt a knot tightening up in her throat, she was sure what she'd needed was to be miserable by herself until she'd cried all of her tears but seeing him there, sitting in her living room after having brought her food and shit that would make her feel better with the sweetest smile on his face, reminded her that she needed someone to help her during tough times.

Her pout grew on her face, and Alex was quick to stop her from getting herself worked out over nothing. "Hey, Ellie. It's okay, c'mere." She nodded and walked towards him, tears slowly filling her eyes and threatening to spill. He turned to her once she was sitting beside him and brushed his thumbs on the apples of her cheeks, "Don't cry okay? Let's watch a film and eat well so we can have a good sleep tonight, yeah?"

A tear slipped down and he was quick to wipe it, he pressed a kiss on her forehead to then turn and grab her plate for her. "Here," He handed her the plate, "Spinach ravioli bolognese, your favorite."

A pathetic little chuckle fell from her lips as she received the dish, it indeed was her favorite. "Oh, you remember."

He watched her as she placed the plate on her lap, sitting straight next to him. "Of course I do. I remember loads of things," But it wasn't about that in this situation, so he got her excited for the movie. "Have you seen this one? People say it's great."

Ella had been sure she wasn't hungry but at the smell of her favorite food reaching her nose, her stomach growled. She blushed, shaking her head at Alex's question, "I haven't, no."

Alex smiled at her, and pressed play but as the opening credits rolled, he pushed her softly to start eating. "I wanna know if you like it, try a little bit."

"Well, how different can it be from any other place? I'm sure it's good." Ella replied as she stirred some of the sauce around with her fork.

"Just a bite," He negotiated, "For me?"

The pout on his face seemed to twist her arm, she gave him a tight lip smile before she shoved a bite into her mouth. Her smile got bigger then, as she savored the food. "It's really good," He smiled, pleased to see that she liked it. "Thank you, Al."

He nodded before grabbing his own plate and they both ate slowly as the film played. It had gotten her giggling and quietly gasping at different moments, which made his heart swell inside of him. When the end credits rolled, he asked her if she'd liked it to which she gave him an excited nod of her head. She was smiling, small grins, but it was what he wanted to get from her.

Alex took the dishes to wash them and Ella followed after him with the empty coke bottles and complained about him doing the dishes in her house. He just stared at her right in the eyes as he quickly washed what they'd used and his smirk got bigger the more she complained.

"You're annoying." Ella simply stated when he was done.

Alex chuckled and walked over to her fridge, "Would some ice cream help you forgive me for being annoying?"

"Maybe..."

She took out two small bowls and two spoons, pointing him to where she had her ice cream scooper and thanked him when he filled her bowl with three big servings of the sweet dessert.

They went back to her living room, to play the next one. He'd changed the discs quickly in her DVD player and played the new movie in record time, "I've actually seen this one already, pretty good. You'll like it."

She saw Ryan Gosling on the cover of the DVD case and nodded, "Give me anything Ryan Gosling and I'll love it."

He laughed, and nodded, "Brilliant." and turned to watch the screen just as 'Drive' showed on the screen.

About thirty minutes into the movie, Alex's phone started going off so he excused himself to go outside and pick it up.

It was Breana, who had been texting him over and over because he hadn't given her an update on Ella like he'd promised. He cursed under his breath and closed the door behind him. He'd told Ella to keep watching but she was honestly just trying to please him by watching it with him. She'd been lost in her thoughts all through the start of it, seeing the main characters subtly flirt with one another had made her tragedies catch up to her again and made her silently crumble.

She'd left two of her windows open since the morning, when she'd been smoking her sorrows away until she ran out, so she could hear what Alex was saying.

"Hi, I'm so sorry," She knew he'd lit up a cigarette because she could smell the burning tobacco making its way inside her house. "Got caught up with everything and forgot about my phone." She heard nothing but silence for a few seconds until he started debriefing, "She's okay. I had her sleep for a few hours and got her food, we've been eating and watching some films." She was so confused as to who he was talking to but then he mentioned a name that had her in the brink of tears again. "Bre, I–. Yes, she was crying a lot but she's stopped for now." She wanted nothing more than for her best friend to be there but, alas, Ella's life seemed to be highlighted by always having the worst timing. "If she lets me then yes, I don't want her to be alone while she's going through this. Much less if there's a slight possibility of that cunt coming to bother her."

It didn't sound like jealousy in his voice, just plain anger at what Julian had done to her and in that moment she realized that maybe Alex and her were meant to be friends. Despite the direction things had taken when they'd first met, maybe they were meant to have a strong friendship so they could be there for each other, have each other's backs.

Ella realized how good it felt to have him there with her, because he understood her in a way that only a few people did and he made her feel calm. She needed that.

His voice could be heard further away as she went to her kitchen after pausing the movie and saw the other things that Alex had bought for her: two little bags of gummies, a dark chocolate bar, another Mexican coke, and a pack of Marlboro reds.

He was a life saver, truly.

She opened the pack and grabbed a cigarette, placed it on her mouth and, after closing her windows down, she joined him outside.

He'd gotten scared by the sudden movement at the door behind him, she laughed as she came to stand beside him and he lit her cigarette up at her silent question for it.

"Thank you." She muttered and he smiled in response.

Alex nodded and hummed at whatever Breana was saying, "Yes, Bre, I know and I won't. You have my word." A cloud of smoke left his lips when he chuckled, "I'll text you later, bye."

Ella watched through the corner of her eye as he hung up and placed his phone in the back pocket of his jeans.

"Thought I told you to keep watching without me." His gaze came over her, watching her relish in the bad habit they both had.

"You did, but I needed a breather." Ella admitted.

Alex nodded and they both fell to their tangled thoughts. She was lost trying to find answers to the one question echoing the most in her head, why? And he was stuck thinking about what he could do to switch her hurt for brief moments of joy.

"Are you feeling better?"

It took her a minute to answer, her eyes lost in the sky and the sight of the moon. So beautiful and unbothered, shining over every single person on Earth so effortlessly.

"It's a weird thing, honestly. I feel just... numb. Like I'm in shock and don't even know if what's happened is real but then I suddenly feel it all coming over me like I'm getting swallowed by fire and I'm burning alive, but somehow the emptiness I feel in my chest overpowers it all." Word vomit, that's what it had been and she shook her head at herself. "I'm talking out of my ass, aren't I?" Pathetic.

But when Alex instantly shook his head, she felt relieved. "No, you're not. He deserves hell, Ellie, not you. And he surely doesn't deserve your tears or your heartache." He threw the last of his cigarette on the floor and took two steps to be right beside her. He threw his arm around her shoulders and let it fall until he could hug her tightly to his side.

She let her head fall on his shoulder, "I've begged for hours that this is a nightmare but I've pinched myself enough times to know I'm unfortunately awake."

"I'm sorry, Ellie." He kissed the top of her head, and then rested his cheek on it. "But I know you, and I know you're gonna be okay. The shadow of his actions that's following you right now will wither away in time, but it will haunt him till the end of his days."

Tears had started falling again but this time in frustration when she explained, "I hate that my brain wants him to suffer but my heart is begging to spare him some mercy."

"Your heart will catch up, just be patient with it."

He was so good at just saying things like that, it blew her away really. "God, you're so poetic. No wonder you ended up a musician." She felt his chest tremble as he laughed, the cold breeze was a nice contrast to the warmth she felt by being held by Alex. "Thank you, by the way."

That had him lifting his head to look down at her, "What for?"

Ella was still pressed to his side but she tilted her head back slightly to look up at him. "The food, the movies, the candy, the cigarettes, letting me ruin your shirt with my tears, letting me ruin your day with my tragedies, begging Bre for my address, spending the day with me..." She was glad he was there, she was glad to have him. "You're a true friend, Alex Turner."

It hurt, 'friend', but he promised himself that that'd have to be enough for him so it would. He gave her the sweetest smile, "No need to thank me darling, I will always be here for you. No matter what." And he meant that—even if he was on the other side of the world, he was determined to always be there for her. "And you didn't ruin my day, if anything you saved me from Matt being insufferable since Bre is in New York."

She giggled, wiping her tears with her right hand. "Ugh, yeah. He must be unbearable."

Ella decided she was done with her cigarette, so she flicked it and watched it die in the ground of her driveway a couple of feet from her and Alex. She brought her arm to circle around Alex's waist and squeezed him softly, "Let's go back inside."

Alex nodded and dropped his arm from around her, Ella started walking ahead of him back to the front door but stopped in her steps when Alex spun her around by her wrist and crushed her in a hug.

"That one's from Bre," The singer said in her ear, "Forgot to deliver it until now, sorry."

She melted in laughter in his hold. He was such an idiot and she was so damn grateful he'd pestered Bre into giving him her address because she truly didn't know what it would've been of her if she'd spent the day completely alone.

They went back inside and finished the film, which ended up being really good and she'd be sure it would be one she'd watch more times in the future. It wasn't too late, barely midnight but she was falling asleep slowly, the exhaustion catching up to her.

Her yawn made him turn to her, he was gonna have her go to bed and then leave but she offered him to stay before she could even stand up from the settee.

Alex accepted, of course. If Ella hadn't offered, he knew he'd go back to the hotel and then be at her door in the morning to make sure she was alright.

She showed him the guest room and reminded him of where the bathroom was. She'd offered him clothes for him to sleep in but he kindly turned them down as he was fine just sleeping in his underwear.

He had managed to get some sleep for a few hours when he was suddenly woken up by her sobs at three in the morning. He wasn't sure what the noise was at first, too sleep drunk to grasp any logic but when he realized it was her crying, his heart broke.

Alex debated within himself if it would be good to just go and get her to calm down or if he should just let her cry it out but when he heard silence and then another heart ripping sob, he got up and walked to her room.

He knocked softly on her door twice before opening the door, his heart broke seeing her against her headboard hugging her legs. The brightness coming from her phone screen was the only thing keeping the room from being absolutely pitch black.

She saw him blurry through the tears, his hair ruffled and his clothes on his body messily. He hadn't had time to properly button his shirt up, too busy trying to check on her as soon as he could to put every button in its correct place.

"Ellie..." Alex cooed, approaching her as she sniffled, trying to calm herself down.

The second he reached her bed and sat beside her, he saw exactly what she'd been doing. She'd been looking at pictures of her and Julian, not the ones that she'd post but the random domestic ones like the one currently frozen in time on her phone. She looked to have been doing her makeup when he interrupted with a hug, their smiles so big on their faces it made her shiver—it felt like those two people in the picture were making fun of her.

Alex locked her phone and in a quick motion hugged her to his chest.Ella broke down all over again, clutching him like it was the only way she'd hold onto reality and not lose her mind altogether.

"Let's not do that, alright?" He suggested, rubbing her back.

She trembled under his touch from the force and continuity of her sobs, it had been such a stupid idea to go through her phone before going to sleep. Her nod was so small that he'd missed it but he continued on consoling her, pressing kisses to her head and talking in her ear.

"You're okay. He's a fucking idiot. He doesn't deserve your tears. He didn't and doesn't deserve you."

There was sweet conviction laced in his words, somehow Alex telling her helped more than if she tried to tell herself. It resonated more, it echoed louder inside her mind.

"I just don't understand it." Ella hated having to bring it all up again, but when it was all silence around her was when the questions would hunt her down. "A fucking month, he's been fucking someone else and sneaking off while I've been here like a love struck puppy stupidly waiting for him to come back. I feel so used and so stupid."

He lifted his head from where it had been resting on top of hers, so that she'd look at him. It was so dark but he could clearly see the soft sparkle of her eyes. "You're not stupid, Ella. You're the smartest one of us all."

She bit her lip trying not to cry again, chin wobbling at her naivety. "I'm clearly not. I didn't see it happening right in front of my eyes. Fuck knows if she was the only one." She let her head fall back, pressed against her headboard while she stared at the ceiling. The ceiling was the only part of her room she could see that didn't spark memories. "He's everywhere I look, Alex. Every inch of my house is tarnished with him and it's making me feel sick."

Her breath faltered, tears rolling down the corner of her eyes and falling down her temples. She'd started spiraling when she closed her door and suddenly her eyes seemed to only fall on bits that reminded of him. And she had tried her hardest to ignore it, to just think of anything else and let it pass but her heart ached to look back at every moment they'd spent together and she'd been too weak to say no.

Too weak, too naive. Stupid, stupid, stupid. All she felt was stupid.

The more her tears fell on his shoulder, the more Alex could hear her heart tearing apart. "I know, darling. But it will get better."

She straightened up, as her insides filled with anguish. She had no hope left. "I don't see how it can. He was everything. My everything."

He squeezed her tighter and she lifted her head up to rest on his shoulder again. His hand unwavering as it rubbed up and down her arm, warming the coldness in her. How could someone blatantly ruin someone like this? It was so insolent. "I know it's easier said than done, but you'll forget. You'll make new memories to replace the tarnished ones. And with time, the hurt will go and the beauty will remain." Because she seemed to glow so bright when was with Julian and he'd hate to see her dull away.

Ella started crying even more, "How stupid is it that I don't want to let the memories go though? I do this all the fucking time, I cling to every bit I have left of people until I just become numb to losing them one random day. But it's just an endless loop of torture until I get to that point, why can't I just skip this all?" It had only been a day, and she was already exhausted. "I don't even want to be in my own bedroom anymore."

"I know, I know." His hand left her arm to start scratching her head, he smiled slowly when he heard her sigh in content at the feeling. "But think about how this room could easily become your salvation if you ever accidentally let Matt and Breana stay over. And you know how shameless they can be—you'll have to start a new life just in here so you don't accidentally get flashed with Matt's arse. And believe me you really don't. Not a pretty sight at all." That was his awful attempt to lighten her mood up and it seemed to have worked when she snorted and her body shook with laughter.

In between chuckles she managed to respond, "You're an idiot."

Alex hummed a 'no', faux-defensive. "No, Breana is the idiot for going for someone like Matt. Me and you both saw him when we were high in the studio. That line about the galaxy being two thousand years old was definitely him."

"It definitely was." Ella agreed, why would he have gotten so offended by her correction if not.

"Yeah, we're not that stupid." He further backed his point.

But Ella was quick to scoff, "No, not at all Mr. 'Little tiny fruit coming after you'. How high did you get? Rude of you to not share your hallucinogens with me."

He let out a small gasp in fake disbelief, "I've never done such a thing, Miss Hayes."

"I don't believe you. No one writes such a shit song on just weed alone."

"Okay enough of your backchat." Alex argued, but he broke out in laughter at her chosen adjective to the song. "I know it's shit but it's still getting put out, it was a very monumental moment for us. New band member and all."

She moved her head up and tilted it back to look at him with an amused expression, "Yeah, very monumental with your new Glockenspiel player bandmate that doesn't even play a thing in it." The sarcasm making him giggle and the contagious sound had her giggling with him.

After their laughter died back down, Ella felt the ball move back up her throat. And maybe it was the way she held him that little bit tighter which gave her away, but Alex didn't hesitate to pull her the tiniest bit closer and continue to stroke her arm as he asked, "You don't have to stay in here if you don't want to, we can go in the other room?"

She wanted to accept, knowing at least that would make her feel better but the brief feeling of comfort would end up in something worse, "I won't come back in here if I do that... I can't let him take more from me. He's already chewed my heart up, he's not taking anything else."

"Atta girl, see? You're already in the right direction." He could only encourage her. After all, she was going to go about it at her own pace and he'd just be there with her through it.

"I just want the pain to go away. It's not fair." It really wasn't, she couldn't help but think how she was breaking down over and over while Julian could be enjoying his time with whoever it was he'd been seeing. "There's no way he's sobbing at god knows what hour in the morning like I am. How is that fair, Al?"

"It's not, darling." The whole situation infuriated him beyond belief, he wanted to seek revenge for her but not more than he wanted to strip her of the heartbreak. "I wish I could take it all away for you. I really wish I could."

"I just want it all to go away." Ella begged. It was a plea to life, to whoever was up there that thought it was fine to have her go through that.

"It'll pass I promise, and from here it will all just get better and better for you, Ellie. I cross my heart, darling." He'd find a way to pull the strings of the universe if it wasn't soon that it'll all look up for her.

Her hazy mind was able to grasp all that and it was the last thing she remembered before she'd succumbed to slumber, every atom of her being just giving up after the efforts of the past twenty four hours.

She hadn't felt Alex leaving her after he made sure she was truly asleep so she was the tiniest bit disappointed to find herself alone in bed in the morning, without his gentle touch on her to make her feel like all would be alright.

She reprimanded herself, it was just her being greedy at that point—he had been doing more than enough and she shouldn't be asking for more.

Her movements were quiet as she completed her morning routine, trying her best not to wake him up. He'd probably been up most of the night because of her cries, she felt so guilty.

She started making breakfast, finding comfort in the sizzle of the frying eggs and bacon on the pan and the drip of the coffee coming from her Keurig. The toasts were the perfect golden brown and, as she plated everything up for them, she found herself happy over the small victory it was for her to feel even the smallest amount of joy out of cooking a small meal.

Ella decided to move dirty utensils so she could wash them, carefully placing the hot pan in the sink when she saw Alex walking down the hallway and towards the kitchen. He looked to have just come out of the bathroom, she hadn't even heard him leave the guest room in the first place.

She didn't know if it was because of the fact that she was going through the worst heartache of her life, but the sight of him with his hair ruffled and wrinkled clothes shattered her.

Not in a negative way, not that it made her want to drop to the ground and cry, but in the way that she was already mourning the fact that she'd never be able to see him like that ever again. She'd always found him so breathtakingly pretty, but the image was so mundane that it added a layer to his general beauty.

He rubbed his eyes in the most childish way, she almost wanted to scream because of how adorable he looked, "Smells good." was all he said and she grinned like an idiot, filled with gratitude.

She slid the plate towards him on the kitchen counter, "This is the 'thanks for putting up with me yesterday and I'm so sorry for keeping you up all night', kind of like the most popular breakfast on the menu."

He chuckled, looking at the food and then at her. He shook his head with a smile and walked over to hug her, "You don't need to thank me or apologize for any of that. But thank you very much for this, it looks delicious." His arms held her tightly over her shoulders, she hid away on his neck with a smile and her arms around his waist.

They stayed like that for a minute and she tried backing away but he was reluctant to let her go. She pinched his waist and laughed, "It's gonna go cold, Al. Sit down and eat."

Alex left a kiss on her temple before letting go of her and sitting on one of the high chairs to dig into the food.

Ella watched him expectantly as he grabbed some of the food with the fork and placed it on the piece of toast, he lifted it up and took a big bite of it. It was good, really good but he exaggerated his reaction to entertain her.

His moan of satisfaction had her blushing and giving him a bright smile that reached her eyes. "That's really fucking good, Ellie."

She looked down at her own serving of food and timidly said, "Glad you like it."

They continued eating, settled in a comfortable silence and when they finished, he had beat her once again to washing the dishes.

She was leaning on her forearms, by the sink, sipping on her coffee while she watched Alex. The truth is that she wanted to ask for a favor but she was too shy to ask for something else from him. He noticed though, and it was so easy to read on her face that she was dying to say something.

"What's wrong?" His voice was so calm, inviting her to just use her words.

"I, um," Ella rose back up straight, leaving her coffee cup on the kitchen counter. "Could I skip this week at the studio? I would go but I'm sure I won't be the best company while I feel like this."

A sweet smile appeared on Alex's face, "Of course you can. But I have to ask for something in exchange..."

She got the tiniest bit more nervous with that, "Which is?"

"That you let me come over and disrupt your peace every day until you're back."

Ella didn't know what she was expecting but that made her let out a breathy chuckle, "Yeah, sure."

"I could take the camera and record for you as well, so you don't have to tell Ben and Aaron."

"You sure you can work a camera?" She teased, remembering how bad at checking his phone he could be. "A phone is enough of a nightmare for you."

Alex rolled his eyes jokingly, "Yes, I know how to work a camera. How hard can it be?"

She only shook her head, "Okay, I'll get everything ready for you. Are you leaving now?" She checked the time on her microwave and it flashed a 9:25 back at them.

He nodded, drying his hands with one of her kitchen towels. "Just so I can get over with the day as fast as I can and then I'll drive back."

Her eyes froze on his face after he said that. She truly was so glad he was there with her and so willing to stay around. She nodded, and when her gaze fell to his wrinkled and tear stained shirt she frowned.

"I'm gonna lend you a shirt so I can wash yours," She pointed at it, "I ruined it."

"No you didn't. It's fine." The singer spoke back, really not worrying about it but she was quick to shake her head and leave to get a shirt out of her closet.

He followed and when he walked through her door, she was looking through her shirts. "C'mere, choose whichever you'd like. Those are the biggest shirts I have." She waved him over and he complied.

He grabbed the first black shirt he saw and when he unfolded it, he laughed. It read 'Boot, Scoot, Boogie' and it had a pair of cowboy boots beside the big words.

"It's a good country classic, to be fair." She commented with a very amused grin on her face.

Alex lifted the shirt up in the air, "Thanks, Miss Tennessee."

She felt the squeeze in her chest, the last time he'd called her that was when he'd written it in the back of their photobooth pictures—one's that were hidden away in one of her drawers in between pages of her photo albums.

"You're welcome." Ella gave him a tight lip smile, "Now go get ready, before the guys start calling you non-stop"

He waved her off, "Already told them I'd be running late."

He walked into the guest room to gather his things and put them in his pockets, changing his shirt for Ella's and he knew he'd be in the best mood all day because the second the piece of clothing was on, he was drowning in her scent.

Flowers, sweetness and that small hint of tender woods.

He was already drunk on it when he came out, maroon shirt in hand and with a beaming grin on his face.

Ella smiled seeing him with the new shirt, "Suits you well."

"Thank you, darling." Bet it looks better on you. "I'll be back later, alright?"

She nodded, exchanging the shirt in his hand for the camera bag. "You take care of that like a child, Turner."

"I will, I promise." Alex let his arm drop dramatically making it seem like he was gonna drop the bag on the floor causing her to gasp loudly.

He started cackling, her face tinting pink at how easily she'd fallen for his prank. "You dick!"

She pushed him lightly and he started walking towards the front door, "Alright, alright. I'm leaving now." He stopped as she opened the door and right before exiting he opened his arms to hug her.

Ella gracefully walked into them, he wrapped them around her and made them both sway in the embrace. "See you later, Al."

"See you soon, darling." A kiss was left on her temple before he left.

She watched as he carefully placed the bag on the floor of the passenger side and, when he backed out into the road, he waved at her before leaving.

Her chest started feeling heavy again, those hours without Alex there would be hard but she had to power through them.

She remembered his words, 'the hurt will go and the beauty will remain'. She couldn't wait for that day to come.

✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧

A/N: I think that after this you can come to the conclusion that I'm an absolute whore for some angst, I love it so much. Bless Ella though, so sorry girl. Hope you enjoyed this one, shit is getting real now... See you soon with the next one, thank you a billion for reading! xx

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wordynerdygurl · 2 years

Text

Two Sizes Too Small

Author’s Note: Well, lovelies, I pulled an all-nighter to finish this one. I just really wanted to give Eddie Munson a wonderful Christmas. That it involves love and my favorite holiday movie, How the Grinch Stole Christmas, well, how could I resist? Full disclosure- there’s a lot of holiday movie and music references! Also, my taglist is open, so let me know if you’d like to be added! Lastly, I hope everyone has a lovely and restful holiday season!! Pairing: Plus Size Female Reader x Eddie Munson

Summary: Eddie hates Christmas, the whole Christmas season, and maybe his heart is too small but it’s Christmas and miracles can happen at the holidays!

Warnings: SMUT, a touch of dubcon in the beginning, and also some angsty pining!

If it weren’t for Wayne, Eddie would have given up on Christmas a long time ago.

Around the time when he realized that Santa was his uncle scraping up extra change to ensure that there was something for him to open under the tree, Eddie’s heart had hardened against the holiday. Wayne already did so much: working double shifts, making sure that Eddie had food, clothes and a safe way to get to school each day. Why add to that burden with a day set aside for the sole purpose of spending money on stuff that no one really needed? Oh, he’d heard the arguments about showing people how much you cared this time of year. That the depth of someone’s feelings was greater than or equal to the quality of whatever sweater, baseball cap or new crock pot could be wrapped in pretty paper with a ribbon slapped on top. In his opinion that was a shitty system for communicating how much you appreciate someone, not to mention it only happened once a year.

There was no question in Eddie Munson’s mind that Wayne loved him. He didn’t need a stocking full of candy or a gift boxed t-shirt to show him what he already knew to be true. So, why make a big deal about it? It was just another day on the calendar.

Regrettably, his sentiments weren’t shared with, well, anyone else. All of the people around Eddie, his uncle especially, seemed to go Christmas Crazy. Shopping all the time, planning events and scheduling parties, worrying about what to buy everyone and where to get the best sale price. It didn’t make sense to him. The decorations, the lights, the ornaments, all of it was sentimental in a way that Eddie just couldn’t abide, “What’s the point? You’re just gonna pull all this shit down in a week.” Not dissuaded, Wayne snorts indignantly, digging through a dusty box marked X-MAS, “The point is, I like it. The point is, it reminds me of when you were an excited kid who liked the simple things in life. Things like bikes and blocks and crayons, not girls and drinking and rock music.” “Ok, ok, you made your point.” Eddie concedes, helping to tape a strand of red tinsel garland along the shelf of mugs which had all been gifts to uncle over the years. Wayne stoops low, child-like glee on his face, as he readies to plug in the light strand, “Ready for the tree?” It was like this every year and Eddie nods, ready to get this part over with, faking his way through Wayne’s Christmas crankiness. With a snap of electricity, the three foot artificial tree lights up. It’s filled with paper Santas scribbled in red marker, macaroni stars and once glitter covered foam gingerbread men. It is an annual homage to Eddie as a kid and Wayne adores it. Despite the grumbling from his nephew, Wayne refuses to give it up, at least, not without a serious fight. Unimpressed, Eddie drones, “Very nice. I like how you managed to keep all the ugly ornaments facing the window. The neighbors are gonna love ‘em.” Incredulous, Wayne scoffs at his semi-scowling nephew, “They should! I’m damned proud to have them.” A heavy wave of nostalgia falls over the old man, making his proud chin quiver with unspoken words of affection for the little boy turned man standing in front of him. Eddie hears the dip in his uncle’s voice, recognizing his yearly Christmas melancholy from a mile away. What was it about this time of year that made everyone go a little nuttier than usual? Was it the weather? The food? Or just the expectations that the holiday season seemed to carry? Screw that. Eddie wasn’t going to give into the commercialized crap that seems to sweep everyone else along in December. Christmas was for suckers and Eddie Munson was nobody’s fool. Well, almost nobody’s fool.

His hand lands on Wayne’s shoulder, going for fondness while ignoring the emotions playing out behind his uncle’s faded eyes. Softening a bit, Eddie offers an olive branch, “Wanna get drunk and watch White Christmas? I had Steve snag it for me.” Patting at his damp cheeks, Wayne nods happily, sappily, “That sounds great-” The phone trills shrilly, cutting through their conversation and Wayne lifts his eyebrows in Eddie’s direction. But his nephew shakes his head. “Ignore it. I’m exactly where I want to be.” Whoever was looking to score was gonna have to call back. Three rings later and Wayne is practically shoving Eddie towards the receiver, “Just answer the damn thing!” Grumpy and gruff, he gives in, whipping up the phone, “Yea?” —-------------- It was December 23rd and the party at Barry’s house was winding down, thankfully. People had been peeling off in pairs and trios, leaving just a few of your boyfriend’s buddies drinking the night away and ignoring you. At some point you looked around and realized that Barry was just gone. The house he grew up in- still lived in, with his family, was, in a word, enormous. There were dozens of rooms and thousands of doors which made your search all the harder. It was just like him to vanish, leaving you to fend for yourself when he had assured you that this time it would all be different. Arms circle your thick waist from behind as he pulls you into the second floor bathroom, pressing you against the granite countertop while lifting your pretty green skirt, “I’m so hard right now, gotta fuck you.” You giggle uncomfortably, already feeling a little too full of bubbling champagne, “Barry! Here? Now?” But you don’t get an answer beyond a rough tear in your tights, Barry’s fingers shifting your panties to the side abruptly, “Yea, right fucking now.” And then he was pushed inside of you, his thrusts sloppy and bordering on painful as he drunkenly rubs at your full breasts through your sweater. If he was concerned with your needs, it didn’t show in the fast sawing motion of his hips, and before you could even trace the beginning of your own ending, Barry was babbling through his own. Curving over your back, he pants in your ear, “Hmm, that was great.” Pulling out of you quickly, Barry tucks himself back into his chinos and presses a tiny kiss to your cheek, “Make sure you clean up before coming out to say goodbye to everyone.” And then he’s gone, leaving you frustrated with sticky thighs. You thank a god you don’t believe in for birth control pills and shuffle over to the toilet, eager to tidy up the mess Barry had left in his wake. Swiftly removing your torn pantyhose, you toss them in the trash can, regretting the loss. Money wasn’t exactly tight, but you were trying to save as much as you could, unlike your upperclass boyfriend. Flushing behind you, you replace your panties and wash your hands. Wiping some water over your cheeks, you smile at yourself in the mirror, confident that no one would know what had happened in the bathroom between you and Barry. Carefully, you shut the bathroom door, surprised when you hear voices, low pitched, in the nearby hallway. Whispers that carry the weight of the familiar voice of your boyfriend begging quietly, “Come on baby, it’s Christmas.” “So? You told me you were done with that trash, Barry and then, then you bring her here. Throwing her in my face? Are you trying to hurt me?” “Dawn, please. You know I only want you.” “Barry, I want you too, baby. But I won’t share you, not with someone like her-” And then the sounds of sloppy kisses gain strength, complete with moans and grunting. It was bordering on pornographic, like something private that shouldn’t be witnessed by anyone but those involved and you wish that you weren’t having to hear it at all. A gross knot of nausea welled up inside of you at the realization of what was happening, and so soon after Barry had cornered you in his bathroom. Disgusted now, you knew you had to leave. The sooner the better. On quiet feet you tiptoe into the nearest bedroom and choking back tears, reach for the phone. Dialing the only number you can think of, the only you have committed to memory, you pray to that same god that he’ll pick up. Finger twisting in the beige cord as you wait through four long rings, nervousness and shame filling your belly as you wait for the call to connect. “Yea?” His voice is gruff, grumpy, which takes you by surprise. It makes your own sound small as you ask timidly, “Eddie?” “What’s wrong? Where are you?” It’s immediate, that change in tone, his understanding of your need, and you drop into a whisper, “Would it be too much trouble for you to come and get me? I- I don’t think Barry-” He breaks in, direct and guarded, “Meet me at the corner. I’ll be there in ten.” The line went dead in your ear, a sure sign that Eddie was already en route to you. Sneaking away was easy when your boyfriend was frenching someone else and no one else at the party cared about you. Scooping up your fuzzy holiday sweater, you went right out the front door into the chilly night, without anyone noticing. Sobbing openly, you scurry to the corner, suddenly overeager to get away from this whole night. Eddie told you ten minutes, but he made it in seven, the van idling loudly when you rounded the corner. Dashing away tears, you climb into the heavenly heat of his vehicle, smiling tightly, “Hey Eddie. Thank you so much, I just- I really needed to get out of there.” He eyes you, a look full of questions, but wisely Eddie asks none of them. Waiting for you to buckle up, he rests a broad palm on your thigh, patting it twice, “No problem, sweets. Where we headed?” “Just home, if that’s alright. I’m- I’m kinda tired.” Putting the van in drive, he appraises you from the corner of his eye. Something about you was so small tonight it made Eddie’s heart hurt. When he heard you on the phone that damaged sound in your voice was enough to make his Spidey sense tingle. It was wrong, the way you had whispered, asking- no, pleading for him to come and get you. Wayne completely understood why he had to leave, even if it was in the middle of putting the final touches on their Munson Christmas traditions. Besides, nothing was going to stop Eddie, not when you sounded so shattered. Clearly something had happened, something not great. And it was something big enough for you to run away from Barry’s huge holiday party, something you had been talking about for weeks. So, while Eddie appreciates you calling him in your hour of need, he absolutely wants to know how to make it better for you and make sure that you’re really alright. “That’s okie-dokie artichokie. But, uh, can you just tell me-” turning to you now, his deep eyes searching yours, full of concern, “-you’re not hurt, right?” He couldn't stand to think about what he might be capable of if you said that you were, or had been. But still, Eddie needed to make sure that you were okay for his own sanity’s sake.

You nod shyly, appreciating the kind hearted way that Eddie handles your privacy, and tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. Looking away, you hum lowly, “Yea, Ed. I’m alright.”

“You sure?” “Uh huh. Just got my heart hurt, so, ya know, nothing too serious.” You try for lighthearted, breezy, but you don’t sell it because Eddie frowns, “Just your heart? Oh, sweetheart. I’m so sorry.” There’s a lot of things you find hard to bear, but Eddie’s pity is just too much. It punches the air out of your lungs. It crumples your bottom lip, setting your chin wobbling as you give into the burning tears of your heartbreak. Smoothly, Eddie pulls over although you’re not too far from home by now. You can hear his seat belt unlock and then your own is set free so that Eddie can scoot you closer. His chin rests on the top of your head as you cry into his neck, his voice soothing as he comforts you, “It’s ok. It’s going to be alright, sweetheart. You’re going to be ok. Hush now.” You don’t know how long you let Eddie console you, his leather jacket warm under your damp cheek, but eventually the sobs become sniffles and the sniffles fade to hiccups. Pulling out of the comfort of Eddie’s embrace, your eyes red and cheeks chapped, you lament thickly, “I got you all wet! I’m so sorry, Ed!” “Hey, stop that. I’m fine.” Brushing wayward hair from your streaky and sticky face, Eddie tuts, “Are you sure you’re alright?” “Yea.” It’s sad sounding, but you’re being honest. You will be ok once you get home, have a shower, and start putting Barry behind you. It helps to have a friend like Eddie Munson there to offer his shoulder to cry on. He fusses over you for another minute, wiping away the crystalline dew of your tears with his thumbs, “I’m here for you, whatever you need.” Eddie makes you stay in your seat until he can open the door for you, like a gentleman should, and walks you to your door. His hand is loosely holding yours as you slide your key into the lock. Almost embarrassed, you look his way, suddenly shy again, “Wanna come in? I’ve got some beer and I think The Grinch is on tonight.” Laughing a little, Eddie shrugs, agreeing easily but still giving you the option for backing out, “Alright, if you don’t mind?” “Of course not.” Once inside you slink out of your coat and motion for Eddie to do the same, “Have a seat. I’ll be right back with something to drink.” Your place was very sweet, just like you, with a tinsel tree glowing with colored lights and other small holiday decorations set out just so. It seems to Eddie like you’re also on the Christmas Crazy-Train. There are two small boxes laying on the red plaid skirt beneath the tree and a single stocking tacked under the television stand. He half expects you to leave out some cookies and milk, as if Santa was going to shimmy down your chimney tomorrow night and deliver you a Christmas miracle. Eddie couldn’t help it. He thought it was precious, sorta like you. And if he’s being honest, he feels as though his own Christmas miracle is happening, right here, right now. For two long years, you had been friendly, a close relationship beginning when you both reached for a recently returned copy of Evil Dead at Family Video. In a moment of unprecedented cool guy maneuvering, Eddie’s suggestion that you come over to his place and watch it together. When you agreed, offering him that sweet smile of yours, well, that had started everything. He didn’t regret it, couldn’t even if he wanted to. It wasn’t your fault that Eddie was using you as the standard against which all other ladies in his life would be judged. And even though, in a bunch of unsuccessfully small ways, Eddie had tried to nudge your friendship in a more romantic direction, he was still as sprung on you as he had been from that very first moment. Now, he was here, with you, and so close to the big holiday. It felt like his own Christmas miracle might be possible, if he believed in that kind of stuff- which he didn’t. Because Christmas was a commercial product. It was soulless, despite what people said to the contrary. But still, he rubbed his hands over his thighs nervously as he thought that maybe tonight was the night. Tonight you would see him as the charming, romantic leading man that you deserved in your life and not just the guy who bailed you out when trouble came around. Eddie’s seen enough of the fluffy, feel-good films that capitalize on the holiday season to recognize that he may be a part of one, with you. Because it couldn’t just be a coincidence that you called him on Christmas Eve, needing help and knowing exactly where to go to get it, right? From the sound of things, Barry was quickly moving out of the boyfriend column and into the exes pile. Another coincidence? He sure as shit hoped not, but Eddie can’t get his hopes up, they’ve been dashed too many times. With eyes that couldn’t seem to settle on anything in particular, Eddie’s mind strays to the countless other times where you had required rescuing and he had charged, nobly, into the fray. Finding you crying on the nearest corner after running out on Barry’s insensitivity, pulling up in his ratty van outside of a party where you had clearly been unhappy, and once driving to the Indiana state border to fetch you from another one of your idiot boyfriend’s debacles. Each time he promised himself that it was the last time- that he was going to protect himself, he was going to stop answering the phone, he was going to tell you how he felt. But the calls, they just kept coming. Happening way too frequently for his liking, the worn muscle of his heart tightening every time Eddie had to hear you sob, or listen to you talk about the belittling way Barry treated you. Over and over again, you let the guy break your heart, only to take him back after some groveling and half meant apologies. And over and over again, Eddie could feel his own aortic organ shriveling up from the knowledge that you refuse to see him as anything more than your second choice. Tensing, he rubbed the back of his, wondering why he was here, waiting for you. Sometimes, it seemed to Eddie, like he was always just waiting around for your next phone call, your next emergency. On hold until the phone rang, on the shelf, out of use. Sure, he went out, hanging around other people; Steve and Robin, obviously, the Hellfire crew, his band. Other than that, Eddie was at home, puttering around, on alert for the jingling ring that means you’re tagging him in for an assist. And he hates it. He truly does, because even though he hasn’t said it in exactly these words, Eddie needs you too. Even more than that, he needs you to need him. It gives him a purpose, a reason for sticking around this one horse town that isn’t connected to tragedy or trauma. You were unavailable, sure, but always present, the living embodiment of his happiness and his sadness. Eddie couldn’t help that the ache of wanting you for his own and always coming up short, time after time, was starting to splinter him into pieces. Snapping his head up at the scuffing steps you made, you pad back into the room wearing a cozy flannel nightgown, complete with elastic wrist cuffs and satin covered buttons at the throat. In place of your make-up was a scrubbed clean face, glowing from the effort. Your heels had been replaced by a pair of simple slippers. Eddie swallows thickly, all of his other thoughts knocked out of his head. Never had a woman been more covered up and still so alluring. The old fashioned sleep shirt skimmed over the sweeping curve of your hips, but still managed to show off your shapely legs and graceful neck. He isn’t sure why it affected him so much, this comfortable and easy version of you, but it did. “Do you still want a beer?”

He’s seen your mouth move, shaping the sounds of your question, but Eddie is dumbstruck by the innocent version of you hovering at the doorway. Tossing his head, mostly to clear away the fog of his want, he croaked, “What?”

Giggling softly, you take a step closer, “I asked if you were thirsty. Still want that drink?” “Oh, that? Yea, yea sure.” Knowing that he must seem mental, Eddie shifted on the couch, rolling his eyes at his own erratic behavior. From over your shoulder you ask him to turn on the tv, “The Grinch is on channel five, I think.” “Gotcha!” The snap of the television coming to life fills the small space and you were practically running around the corner by the time Boris Karloff starts his narration. Plopping down right next to Eddie, you gently hand him a bottle and drop a bag of chips onto the table, “Just in case we get hungry.” “Uh huh. Since when do you like Doritos, huh?” Flicking at the plastic bag, Eddie gives you a friendly side-eye look, full of teasing. Settling back into the cushions, you tug Eddie’s arm around your shoulders, “Since I’ve been forced to eat them with you.” An appreciative tone rang out from Eddie’s chest as you pressed your ear over the dip in his torso, right over his heart. The gentle, even rhythm you found there was one of your favorite things and you took every available opportunity to listen to Eddie’s heartbeat. You couldn’t say why it was important or what it was about his particular pulse that made you feel better, but it did, and Eddie, well, he never seems to mind. His fingers seemed to have a mind of their own, petting sweetly over the strands of your hair that trailed down towards your shoulders and he saw you shiver, “Here.” Eddie tugged the knitted afghan from the back of the couch, tucking it in around you. Sighing, you snuggled into him, letting your eyes shut, feeling truly and completely at ease finally, “Hmm, thanks babe.” Babe? Oh shit. That wasn’t good. Not for his spiraling thoughts. Sipping his beer, he refocused on the green Grinch stomping on the screen. He couldn’t bear to look at you. Looking at you, right now, was dangerous. You were too precious. And the scene around him was too domestic. It was exactly what life should look like if you weren’t the town scapegoat, raised by your uncle in the worst part of town and Eddie didn’t trust himself not to do something stupid in pursuit of that idealized image. Against his thigh, Eddie felt you shift as you drifted off. You were practically in his lap with your head nuzzled into the center of his chest, eyes gently shut. If he wasn’t careful, Eddie was going to enjoy holding you like this, so close and so easy, a little too much. The Grinch was complaining about noise and Eddie understood the sentiment a little too well because right now he was struggling to ignore the little kitten snores you were making with every exhale. Your tiny huffed puffs blowing against his tummy, beer scented and sweet. He smiled down at you, full of affection and pulled you tighter to his side. Unable to stop himself, Eddie brushed a peck to your upturned forehead, whispering a rueful “Fuck” into the night. When The Grinch ended and Charlie Brown’s Christmas started, Eddie sat still, his empty beer bottle in his hand, afraid that any movement would wake you up. A news broadcast, filled with updates on the coming snow storm’s progress and holiday toy drive details wrapped up before the intro to Johnny Carson began. Through it all, Eddie kept his arm around you, enjoying the worn in feel of your nightgown under his hand and the way you were burrowed into the crook of his shoulder. It was hard to be in your space so intimately and not touch you, even if his hands burned at the effort of keeping them to himself. So, he didn’t trace the sweet sweep of your nose or tuck your hair behind your ears. And somehow, Eddie managed to keep from pulling you into his lap fully, just to pet you, like he would a sleeping kitten. Instead, he relished the trust you put in him, content to imagine happy kisses shared between the pair of you, while you dreamed next to him on the sofa. And you slept just like that, curled into Eddie Munson’s warmth until the strains of the National Anthem faded into staticy snow. You sat up quickly, pulling back from the shared heat you and Eddie had created with a yawn. Blinking his way sheepishly, your words full of drowsiness, “Sorry Ed- Did-” you rubbed your still sleepy eyes, “Did you- did you stay all this time just to let me sleep?” It was his turn to look bashful, and glancing out your window, Eddie nodded, “Yea. What can I say? You were too cute to move, sweetheart.” Snorting, you rolled your eyes at his kind words, “Oh, I bet I was! All drooly and-” But he cut you off with a firm finger under your chin that yanked you near enough for his lips to press into your own. A hungry sound, the kind a man makes when he’s digging into his favorite dinner, rolled through Eddie as you let your mouth part. Thick and probing, Eddie licked over your bottom lip, letting the kiss deepen as your hands tangled into the second skin of his t-shirt. His forehead rested against your own, chest rising and falling rapidly, as Eddie’s dark eyes locked on yours, “Hey.” “Hey,” you echoed, keenly aware of Eddie’s presence in your sphere, breathing him in with short inhales as you tried to quiet your racing heart. Hands that you know as well as your own come down to cup your face, handling you as if you were porcelain- precious beyond measure and utterly breakable, “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.” Looking like a happy kid on Christmas morning, Eddie’s dimples show as he smiles your way, his fingers threading with yours. Falling back into his original spot, he drags you with him, eager to have you in his arms, but you hold yourself back, teeth toying at your bottom lip as you blurt, “But Barry. He’s-” Your words stick in your throat at the sight of Eddie’s crestfallen face, a new iciness filling each syllable, “What? He’s what, sweetheart?” When you don’t answer right away, a rage that he normally can keep in check threatens to overflow, as Eddie carried on in a rising voice, “I’ve seen- shit-” a fist slams into the meat of his thigh, his anger focused on that one spot as hurt filled eyes find yours in the silver light of the running television, “-I’ve seen what he’s done to you. How he treats you. How he hurts you over and over.” Slender fingers reach for your cheek but Eddie doesn’t touch you. Instead he lets his hand drop into his lap, his heart falling into the abyss as he manages to choke out, “And still, you’d rather be with him?” For a long second you didn’t answer, your brain too full of thoughts. A lot had happened in the few minutes since you woke up, huddled around Eddie’s middle and you still weren’t thinking straight. How could you after an incredible kiss like that? And Barry. What about him? Were you together? You didn’t think so, not after what you had overheard, but that final conversation hadn’t happened yet.

Eddie’s words surround you though, the pain in them unmistakable. Shaking your head slowly, you huskily counter, “I didn’t say that, Eddie. It’s just-” But he pushed to his feet without giving you a chance to explain. Swinging his jacket over his broad shoulders with furious flare, “Ya know, what? Don’t. I don’t wanna know. Just uh-” in three long strides Eddie’s jerked open your front door. His back is to you, the handsome face that you’ve come to associate with protection and honor haloed by the streetlights, Eddie chokes out over his shoulder, “Merry Christmas.”

Your door, red bowed wreath swinging, slammed shut and now, now your apartment feels really empty, cold. The lights on your tree seem garish and glaring as this year’s holiday slowly but surely becomes the worst kind of memory. Feelings that you’re too tired to process flow through you, but in the end you drag yourself to bed in the early hours of Christmas morning, wishing it all away as a bad dream. Flopping into bed, you clutched your pillow in your arms, disappointed that it didn’t have a pulse to share with you. Already missing Eddie, you kicked yourself for being so indecisive, for ruining the precious seconds where only you and he existed in the twinkling glow of Christmas lights. Pale sunlight was streaking the sky when you finally closed your eyes, hoping that you’d wake up to a world that was back in its proper alignment. Only, morning finds you, just the same, and unfortunately, there are no singing Whos to make you feel better about the night before. There’s no one to kiss you awake and wish you a Merry Christmas Eve or tell you about the snow that is just starting to fall in fat, perfect flakes. You don’t have anyone to cook for or watch open gifts. It’s just you, all by yourself. It was always going to be a small Christmas, you knew that, truly. You didn’t have much family and only a few friends, except for the people you met through your boyfriend or Eddie. In fact, the gifts laying under the tree had been for them, of course. Now they both were ghosts: Christmas Past and Christmas Present. At some point you throw yourself onto the couch, clicker in one hand, a can of Coke in the other even though it was still breakfast time. It was around that time he’d called, much too early for your liking, so you let the machine get it. With a self assured voice that proved how little he understood or cared about you, Barry had left a message asking you to bring a dessert when you came for dinner that night. A last minute request for a last minute invitation. He was so sorry, but you would do it, right? His call went unreturned. Angry, you immediately erased the tape and took the phone off the hook. After last night with Eddie, you were fairly certain that no one else was going to be calling. Not on Christmas Eve when there were presents and parties and people to enjoy. Besides, all this silence gave you time to think, so while Danny Kaye and Bing Crosby tap danced across the twelve inch screen of your tv, you did just that. And if your eyes got misty at Rosemary Clooney’s gift of a knight on a white horse, then that was just how good the movie was, right? It didn’t have a single thing to do with a certain man willing to ride into battle on your behalf, over and over and over again. The more you thought, the more you realized that Eddie hadn’t been wrong about the ways in which Barry failed you as a boyfriend. He had been treating you like garbage for a very long time, longer than anyone should tolerate, but when you had so little, even the scraps seemed significant. Swallowing down your less than festive Swanson’s turkey dinner lunch, you realized that you didn’t want scraps- not anymore. Changing the channel, Jimmy Stewart’s drawl takes over the room, but you're not thinking about bells ringing. You’re thinking about Eddie, again. Still. You’re thinking about how, even now, your nightie smells like tobacco and light beer and old leather. You’re thinking about the sacred synth beating of his heart and how it always seems to settle you. You’re thinking about that tender kiss he laid on you when your brain was still fuzzy but your body knew just how to respond.

You’re thinking about Eddie this Christmas Eve, but is he thinking about you?

— Eddie has never been more miserable in life. Surrounded by all of his friends, gorging themselves on pie and turkey and ham and potatoes and cookies cut to look like snowmen, mittens or bells, Eddie is cursing the whole Christmas season. All of the trappings are just red and green reminders of what he doesn’t have, what he can’t enjoy, what he had with you last night when you were tucked into him, safe and sound, while The Grinch stole Christmas. “What’s eating you?” Steve’s got a small paper plate in his hand, balancing a slice of lasagna along with a piece of cake that’s been stabbed through by a white plastic fork, as he dropped down beside Eddie. “Nothing.” Leaning his chin into his hand, Eddie’s elbow dug into the meat of his thigh, a grouchy position for a grouchy guy. Licking frosting off his fork, Steve hummed, “No way. Something’s got you all pissy. Pissier than usual- and on Christmas too! Come on, lay it on me.” Rolling his eyes Steve’s direction, Eddie sat back reluctantly, “I- I think I fucked up.” Steve’s bite of lasagna hovered in midair, between the plate and his open mouth, as he tossed his infamous locks, “Impossible. It’s Christmas.” “What’s that got to do with it?” Eddie grumbled, sitting up swiftly. Really, was that any kind of explanation? It was December 25th so your life couldn’t be totally screwed up? Humbug. Chewing loudly, Steve nodded, holding up a finger as a silent indicator for Eddie to wait up until he swallowed. With a sip of his egg nog, Steve twisted in Eddie’s direction, “Well, first, everyone loves Christmas. Everyone but you, I mean. It makes people feel better. Want to be better, do better, ya know?” “So?” “So, you’re more likely to be forgiven for fucking up. I mean, shit. Nance and I got back together over Christmas. It’s magical, dude.” Blowing out a noise that was similar to a fart, Eddie shook his head in frustration, “It’s a day, Harrington. One day out of 365. Why does everyone make such a big deal-” “Are you kidding me? Have you like, never seen A Christmas Carol or, or watched ‘Rudolph’?” Confused, Eddie shrugs, “I have, but-” “But what? All the songs, the movies, the stories, they’re all about loving each other- and, and being kind at Christmas time.” Throwing up his hands, Eddie stared at his friend, his smile sort of sad, “Well, what if you kiss someone who’s still hung up on their asshole boyfriend?” With rounding, wide eyes, Steve stuttered, “You- you kissed her? It’s about damn time, man!” Flopping back, his long haired head resting against the tall cushion of the Wheeler’s couch, Eddie groused, “Naw, Harrington. She-” sighing deeply, willing the pain out of his tone, “-she’d rather stay with Barry.” Steve tossed down the empty plate, standing quickly, “No. Nope. Nuh uh.” Looking around, shocked by Steve’s sudden movements, Eddie can’t help asking, “What’s happening, Steve?” Bending at the waist, his handsome forelock falling forward, Steve’s hands find his hips as he admonishes the depressed rocker in front of him, “I’ll tell you what’s happening. You’re getting up and going over there. You have to talk to her, man.” Glaring up at his friend from under his shaggy bangs, Eddie shook his head defiantly, “No way. No fucking way. She-” Leaning down further, dad stance activated, Steve snapped, “Do you like her? Do you-” pausing to cock an eyebrow skyward, “-love her?” Gulping guiltily, Eddie’s head bounced in response as Steve added, “I thought so. Well, the good thing for you is that this magical day isn’t over. You never know what might happen if you go and talk to her. I mean, it’s Christmas, man. And maybe, just maybe, you’ll find out you didn’t fuck up everything after all.” “Is this some kinda motivational speech, Harrington?” Tilting his head as that wicked grin spread over his face, Eddie isn’t laughing at Steve, but he can’t help mocking him just a little bit. Confusion filling his face, Steve faltered for a second, “Uh, is- is it working?” Genuinely this time, Eddie smiled genuinely, “Yea, I think it is.” Straightening his spine, resolute, Steve countered, “Then, yes. I’m motivating you with my speech. Now, uh, get lost, Munson.” Offering his unlikely friend a hand, Steve pulled Eddie to his feet and was already ushering him towards the door. “Alright, but if this backfires, I’m coming back here and kicking your ass to the tune of Jingle Bells.” “Fair enough.” Steve tapped him twice on the back as Eddie slid towards the van, his sneakers not offering much traction in the snow, “Go get her, Munson.” Eddie started the van and gave Steve a thumbs up before backing slowly out of the driveway. For some reason, his heart felt lighter, buoyed by the pep talk from his buddy. Maybe Steve was right. Maybe there was a way to save this Christmas after all. Mind whirling, he was already planning out what to say to you- an apology to start. And he was sorry. Sorry for kissing you out of the blue. Sorry for not telling you how he felt. Sorry for talking about your boyfriend.

Ex-boyfriend? Whatever the hell he was now. But mostly, Eddie was sorry for walking away without telling you what was going on inside his head. You deserved that much at least. Snow was falling faster now, dusting the whole town in powdered sugar whiteness, and he found himself hunching over the steering wheel to see better between the drifting flakes. His defrost was working overtime, struggling to keep the fog off his windshield, as he cursed, “Jesus Christ!” As he got closer to your place his headlights illuminated a person, bundled up like a snowman, trudging along the barely plowed street. Shaking his head as he slowly rolled past, Eddie couldn’t understand what would possess someone to do something like that, even if it was Christmas Eve. What was so damned important that you went out in bad weather, a soggy sack of gifts melting under the swiftly shifting snow, he’d like to know. Pressing on the brake, Eddie stopped, disbelief flooding him. “No. No way-”

— Snow was dropping down in gentle swirls when you decided that you had to see Eddie, regardless of the fading sunlight, before Christmas Eve came to a close. Too much had been said, too much left unsaid, for your mind to let it go. Not to mention the way your heart ached dully when you thought about the wounded look on his face before he’d left you, stunned and speechless, after that tasty kiss. No. It was Christmas, dammit. And at Christmas, you told people how much they meant to you. How much you needed them. How much you relied on their strength, their warmth, their willingness to take teary phone calls at all hours of the night and then come rescue you from shitty situations time and again. How much you, gulp, loved them. It was Christmas Eve and you were only just now realizing that there was one person who you needed to make the holiday happy and bright. One dark hued, leather wearing metal head who just happens to be the white knight of your personal story. You just hoped it wasn't too little, too late. Jamming his gift into a bag, you dressed as warmly as you could, layering up like a cake before lacing up your boots. Pulling on a striped winter hat, complete with a fuzzy pom pom on top, you zipped up your heavy coat and stepped outside, shivering in the chill. You didn’t have a car of your own, so you were going for a wintery walk to the trailer park, all in the name of love.

With a foggy exhale, you hummed to yourself, “Oh, the weather outside is frightful-” On a good day, the walk to Eddie’s place was about fifteen minutes. Today, Christmas Eve, during a snowstorm, that quarter of an hour turns into forty five minutes easily. Color rose up on your cheeks, across your nose, and the tips of your ears. Anywhere you couldn’t cover with a scarf or coat was chapping in the cold air. And you had long ago stopped your singing. Forced to walk on the road since most of the sidewalks were untreated, you didn’t mind, but you were incredibly cautious about oncoming traffic. You wanted to talk to Eddie, not get turned into road pizza on the biggest holiday of the year, so you are walking into the wind and making yourself as visible as possible in the coming dusk. Still, it required a lot of effort on your part, even if you had started to question the sanity of your idea.

Headlights catch your eye and you raise a hand to block the brightness. The driver was going slow due to the snow and you move as far to the side as you can while also avoiding a slushy splash. Tucking further into your scarf, you trudged on, rehearsing the speech you were going to give when Eddie opened his trailer door. And maybe that’s why you didn’t notice when the passing vehicle slid to a stop before reversing on the empty roadway. All you know is that one second you were inside your head, white flakes flying past in swirling cyclones, and the next you hear a shout, “What the hell are you doing?” “Eddie?” Stopping short, your head snapped up at a voice you know as well as your own. He was out of the van in a flash, his hands gripping onto your shoulders tightly, “It’s cold as fuck out here, not to mention snowing like crazy, and you’re just- just walking around?” Tipping your chin up, you eyed him from under the brim of your stocking cap, “I was going to your place. I- I have a gift-” “A gift? Sweet fucking Christ! You coulda been killed! A car could have- or, or, you could have slipped on ice and hit your head. I mean, do you have any idea-” Horrible scenario after horrible scenario filled Eddie’s mind. Worrying about what could have happened to you and knowing that it hadn’t could not stop the flipped switch of his panic. With a cracking voice, Eddie pulled you into his heart, his warmth, questioning you brokenly, “What if I hadn’t seen you? What if- what if something happened to you and I wasn’t able to stop it. To save you?”

His grip tightens around you and your bulky coat, almost lifting you off the ground, “What would I do if-” A sweet half smile curls over your face as you put a mittened hand over his chest, cutting him off, “Eddie.” Your voice stills him, those wide burnt sugar eyes locking on yours, as he tips your head up, “Yea?” Pushing up onto the toes you could barely feel, you pressed a chaste kiss to Eddie’s warm mouth, lingering in his cinnamon gum scented sphere. For a second, he froze, your cold nose rubbing against his as your eyes fluttered shut. Then, his arms pulled you as close as your jacket allowed, those lips of his finding your chapped ones with a happy hum. Heat rushed through you, a welcome change from the dropping temperatures out on the snowy street. Only this heat was spreading from the clenching muscles in your tummy, a fire ignited by the wanting way Eddie moaned into your mouth. His nimble tongue danced alongside yours as the sky deepened into an inky indigo, dotted with picture perfect snowflakes. Fingers, pinkening from the cold air, tug on the ends of your scarf ensuring that you can’t get away from Eddie this time. He didn’t need to worry. You weren’t going anywhere, not without Eddie Munson, anyway. Not anymore. Parting in a puff of heavy air that turned silver in the snowy night, Eddie’s forehead bumped against the cuff of your cap, a goofy grin making his dimples impossible to ignore, “Hey.” “Hey.” Looking up at him through the curve of your lashes, expectant and excited, you were waiting to see what Eddie’s next move would be. You were rosy from cold, eyes shining bright in the fading light of day, and Eddie had never wanted you more. Swallowing thickly, you watched his Adam’s Apple bob while his arms rubbed over your thick sleeves, “Can I- Will you let me take you home?” Biting into your bottom lip, you nod quickly, “Yea. Yes, please.” Guiding you, Eddie ensured that you’re safely situated in the passenger seat before securing your buckle and shutting the door. You giggled as he moved around the front of the van, slipping in the slush, his face illuminated in the headlights. Catching your eye, he winks wickedly and then is seamlessly sliding behind the steering wheel with a wild toss of his snow-dampened hair, “Where to m’lady?” Sighing deeply, but happily, you pull off your winter hat, staticy strands sticking up at odd angles, “I’d normally say take me home, but-” “But?” There’s caution in Eddie’s voice. Like a skim of ice on the lake, things between you are still tentative- not solid, and he has a momentary lapse of confidence. Laying a hand on his denim clad thigh, leaning closer to reassure him, you shrugged, “But I don’t want to be alone. Not tonight. It’s Christmas Eve.” It gives Eddie an idea. A wonderful idea. A perfect, Hallmark Card, winter wonderland idea. “Ok, but just remember… You asked for it.” His tone is playful when Eddie swings the van in a circle, turning from the direction of your place back the way he came. Oh, he’s nervous. There weren’t a lot of people who had been to his trailer; just the closest, dearest of friends. Steve had seen the inside of the clean and cozy space a time or two, Robin and Nancy for sure, but mostly, Eddie was the guy pulling up to your place, not the other way around. A small Christmas tree, loaded with lights and ornaments faced the gravelly road where Eddie’s uncle was already parked. There’s strands of blinking lights criss-crossing the awning and a small sign that says, “Santa Stop Here” propped up on the porch. It’s a sweet sight, a glowing, golden invitation on a cold and snowy Christmas night and you can’t help the dopey look of glee on your face at what you’re seeing. Pulling the van in smoothly, Eddie held up a hand, “Wait, k? I haven’t been here to shovel.” Agreeing with a head bob, you sat patiently as he stomped around, snow high enough to cover his sneakers. Snagging your bag, you are prepared to step into the snow, but Eddie doesn’t give you the chance. One foot touched the ground and then he’s bear hugging you, walking you straight to the stairs as you laugh, “What are you doing?” “Keeping you from getting cold feet. Obviously!” Once he’s sure you’re on the firm ground of his steps, Eddie bounced back and kicked the van’s door closed. He brushed by you, his hand finding your elbow so that he could haul you inside, calling out warmly, “Hey, Uncle Wayne! Hope you don’t mind-” An older, more worn in version of Eddie, minus the long locks, popped a head out from the kitchenette, “Wha? Oh. Oh, we’ve got company then?” Wiping his hands on a well used dish cloth, he moved closer, arms wide, “I’m Eddie’s uncle- Wayne, in case you didn’t get that part.” The hug is crushing and so full of tenderness that you can’t help but wrap your arms around this new person, squeezing hard as he welcomes you. Stepping back, Uncle Wayne kept a firm hand on you, but eyed Eddie steadily, “Your phone call, I take it?” Chuckling nervously, Eddie rubbed a palm across the back of his neck, ruffling his hair in the process. He’s never been able to hide much from his uncle, this is no exception, and he can tell that he’s busted. “Yea, Wayne. She’s the one who called last night.” A look passed between them, approving and accepting, before Wayne clapped his hands, asking, “Are ya hungry, darling? It’s not much, but it’s our tradition, so to speak.” “If you don’t mind? I-” “Mind?” Wayne says it as if he’s offended by the idea, “You’ll be doing me a favor. Keep this one-” pointing at Eddie with an up turned thumb, “-on his best behavior. Come on!” Your jacket disappeared into a closet somewhere and Eddie helped you shuck the soaking boots you’ve been wearing for much too long. Excusing yourself, you duck into the bathroom, and when you come back, there’s a heartwarming scene unfolding in front of you. Wayne and Eddie, setting an extra place at the table, grumbling about the “good china” which you can tell is paper plates. Stopping, Wayne appraised his nephew for beat as Eddie centered a folded paper towel over your spot. A small smile pulled at the corners of his uncle’s mouth before Wayne dragged Eddie into an unwilling hug that ended with a firm clap on the younger man’s back. You swing back into the room at the sound, “This- this looks great, you guys!” A pot of macaroni and cheese, neon orange and buttery, sits in the center of the table. There’s a plate of ham and cheese sandwiches, cut into triangles and piled high on a Miller High Life tin tray, next to a bowl of salad greens. A big bottle of ranch dressing standing proudly at its side. “It’s not traditional, I guess-” Eddie started but Uncle Wayne cut him off, “It’s our tradition! All of Eddie’s favorite food is here. Except the salad, of course.” “Except the salad.” He echoed his uncle, offering you a sandwich from the tray while his teeth pinch the fat of his lip, desperate for your acceptance. He had no reason to worry. It’s just so lovely to be with other people, especially guys like the Munson boys. They pass around bottles of beer, telling stories, making you laugh so hard that your stomach muscles ache from it. From deeper in the trailer you heard the sound of an alarm clock buzzing and Uncle Eddie exhaled hard, “Well children, I have to get going.” Looking up from your seat at their table, you questioned, “No! You’re not leaving are you?” Taking one of your hands in his, Wayne pats it gently, “Double time at the plant is too good to pass up, even if the company is as excellent as yours, darling.” Pouting, you let your bottom lip stick out and Eddie is struck by an urge to kiss you stupid. Instead of whipping you into his arms in front of his uncle, Eddie stood up and started clearing the table, “Ok, old man. You can stop flirting with her now.” “Me? I would never!” And you could hear the same teasing tone in Uncle Wayne’s voice that Eddie has inherited. It’s flattering and flustering at the same time and you just knew that they could feel the flush of heat radiating off of you from the attention they both give you. “Yea, yea. Here-” Eddie handed a small box to Wayne, “-Food, for tonight’s shift.” “Thanks, son.” Turning in your chair you watched Wayne shrug on his coat, popping the collar up high to block some of the snow that’s still falling. At the doorway he nodded your direction, “Don’t be a stranger young lady. Merry Christmas to you both!”

And then the trailer goes quiet. Eddie pivoted fast, big eyes finding yours, and you both started laughing again. “Shit! I mean, I knew Uncle Wayne had moves, I’ve just never seen them in action like that before.” Feigning innocence, you placed a hand over your heart, “Do you mean to tell me that he was flirting? My, my, you Munson men must have a type!” Eddie’s chuckle petered out, his face growing serious, as he looked you over, “Yea. We do. Pretty ladies who uh, who walk through snow storms and love The Grinch.” You didn’t laugh because it wasn’t funny anymore. Reaching out his hand, Eddie lifted you to your feet, spinning you in place before bringing his hands to your hips. “Hey, hang on, k?” Nodding, you missed his presence when he stepped up to the record player hidden in the corner of the living room. The speakers spring to life, and with a triumphant grunt, Eddie placed a 45 on the turntable before returning to you. Nat King Cole started to croon about chestnuts and open fires, but you’re hardly listening. You’re caught up in the way Eddie’s eyes reflect the multi-colored lights of his cute Christmas tree, reds and greens and yellows and blues. The feeling of his hands swaying you back and forth, moving you where he needed you to be, is intoxicating, heady. Drawing your palms over his forearms, you slid them higher, higher, higher, until you could lace them behind Eddie’s neck. He stretched against your folded fingers, looking down at you, “I’m really glad that you came over tonight. I don’t think Wayne will ever get over it.” Snickering sweetly, you wet your lips, “He loves you.” “He’s the only one.” Shaking your head, your hooded gaze never leaving his, you countered, “Uh uh. That’s not true.” Eddie tilted his head, studying your expression, “You calling me a liar, sweetheart?” His tone was playful but the tenor was low, raspy, grating, and you matched it when you answered, “Yea, maybe I am.” “Are you saying that you love me?” Whispering, just in case he was dreaming, just in case he had to deny that these words had ever been spoken, Eddie paused all movement. You nod, yes, but it’s not enough. Not for Eddie. Not tonight. “Please, I need- I need you to say it.” A clock ticked away the seconds while you peered into the hot cocoa gaze of the only man you truly trusted, “I love you, Eddie. I- I think I always have, really.” If you could capture an image to look over forever, it would be the face Eddie made at your husky confession. The unadulterated joy that crowds his features made you think about New Year’s Eve fireworks, exploding and expanding as they brilliantly burst. Eddie broke your hold on him, his fingers threaded between your own as he brought a hand up to press a little kiss to your knuckles. “I know. It took you long enough to realize it, though, sweetheart.” Looking away from him, a stupid, giddy smile grew across your face. You rolled your eyes, “Maybe I was waiting for the right moment? ‘Tis the season, ya know?” Eddie didn’t reply, at least not with words. He picked his moment and using your waist as leverage, snugged you tight to his lean body. One arm braced along your spine as his other hand cupped your bountiful bottom, tipping you off center a bit so that he could wrap your leg over his hip. He’s so solid, so sturdy, that you melted into the embrace, letting Eddie support you entirely as you gripped at his firm biceps. That curtain of ebony hair brushed against your cheek as your mouth searched for and found more of Eddie to taste. Mewling against his lips, you could feel his growing excitement and your core pulsed with need at the idea of having all of Eddie, all for yourself. Pinching your bottom, Eddie straightened you both up, jerking his head towards the small room at the end of the hall, “Come on.” A little light headed, you followed where he led, landing in his personal domain. It’s a space dominated by his love of music and all things D&D related, and it smelled so good, so right, that you launched yourself in his direction, needy lips already moving in on him. Eddie met you there, in the middle, ready and wanting. Longing for him, you toyed with the hem of his t-shirt, desperate to feel Eddie under your hands. Gliding higher, Eddie chuckled, catching your hands in one of his, “Your hands are freezing!” “Sorry!” You rubbed them together, blowing on them, trying to warm them up as quickly as possible. “S’ok, I got you.” He stepped away and crossed his hands at the bottom of his shirt before ripping it off in one fluid motion. Eddie is stunning. His compact and constant strength is evident in the smooth lines of his chest, his tattoos a road map to pleasure. You didn’t know whether to touch him, or kiss him, or lick him- your thoughts derailed entirely when he tisked, “Um, see something you like?” Beneath your hands Eddie felt so substantial, so solid. Tracing his ribs, you leaned in to kiss the places where black ink outlined the images associated with his rock and roll persona, keeping a hold on his trim waist. When you reached the hollow of his chest, the place that hovered above his heart, you lingered long enough to purple the skin there as yours. Home. It’s the sort of attention that Eddie isn’t accustomed to- someone showering him in affection. The time its taken for your tongue to lick lines over his pecs, press kisses across his collar bone, nips at the cologne stained skin of his neck, feels like decades. Eons. Ages. But he let you take that time. Breathing became a struggle, especially when you purse your lips and sucked little red splotches over the length of his core, your still chilly fingers dug into the muscles of his back as a reminder for him to keep still. Tentatively, you played with his belt, not wanting to show just how eager you truly were in this moment. He doesn’t stop you, instead Eddie moves your hands to his handcuff shaped buckle, encouraging you, “Yea, go ahead, babe. I- I want you to.” Jumping at the contact, Eddie’s stomach muscles contracted and he hissed. Dropping to your knees, you pushed his jeans down, down, down, and tapped his calf. It was a silent way of telling him to move his feet so you could get his pesky pants off of him. From this position, Eddie stood tall and straight like a mythological hero above you. Other guys might have tried to hide their growing erections, crossing their hands over any visible sign of their desire, but that’s not Eddie’s style. If anything, he parted his legs, widening his stance to showcase his masculine power. And if the boxers he wore weren’t covered in Santa faces, then you were certain his manliness would have overpowered you. “Ah! These are very cute.” Flicking at the hem of his shorts, you had to tease him. You have to lighten the mood otherwise, you were going to combust right to ash at his feet. “‘Tis the season- isn’t that what you said?” Throwing your words back at you, Eddie let his fingers tangle in your hair, urging your head back as your dewey mouth parted. You were so close to him, to his aching stiffness, that all his willpower is being channeled into behaving. It would be all too easy to dig his thumbs into the pudgy flesh of your cheeks, keeping your mouth open wide as he fed his hard cock between your lips until you were full up with Eddie. A shadow of his thoughts crossed behind his eyes and you gulped audibly, pressing your thighs together at the idea of him using you for his own end. Only, that wasn’t who Eddie Munson was, at heart. There was no forcing, no taking, not without talking first. And that alone was so very different from whatever his name was that you were already feeling more excited, more aroused than you could ever remember being before. Nodding at his quip, you stretched your fingers toward the gathered elastic band of his jockey shorts, but he stopped you, “Not yet, ok, pretty girl? Wanna see you first, alright?” “Oh, yea, ok. Sure.” You stood up on shaking legs, never breaking the heated stare between you and Eddie. Slowly you started to peel off the layers of clothing that you had wrapped around yourself before heading out into the snow. Fumbling, you toed off one thick sock when Eddie’s low laugh interrupted your eager undressing, “Lemme help you. You helped me, it’s only fair.” Motioning to his thigh, you brought your socked foot up, inhaling sharply when Eddie rolled the soggy wool down your toes before chucking it towards the door. Those calloused fingers massaged up your calf, the muscles there tense from your excursion, and you groaned gratefully at the softening his touch brings. Too soon, in your opinion, Eddie lowered your leg back to the floor, but it’s only because he was raising the bottom band of your hoodie over your head. Stumbling a bit, he caught you, now in a t-shirt and leggings, “Did you put on everything you own?” “It’s cold out! And I was walking here to tell the guy I love “Merry Christmas”!” It’s your best defense and the base honesty of it makes Eddie weak. “Fair enough, sweetheart, but I need you naked. Like, now.” His eyebrows are raised expectantly making you chortle as his overeager attitude. You got a little bit fresh though, wanting to tease him, to draw out the night, so you sass, “What if I’m your gift, huh Munson? And you’re just rushing through the unwrapping part-” He doesn't let you finish. Instead, Eddie scooped you up with his hands on your soft bottom, pushing his nose into the crook of your neck, “Oh, I know how to take my time, babe. Especially when it matters.” “Fuck, Eddie.” It’s a broken exhale, wanton and laced with a desperation that he had never heard from you before. He’s an addict already. Buttons part easily under Eddie’s knowing fingertips. Your flannel shirt and faded tee are thrown across the room joining the growing pile of your clothes. After your ribbed tank top comes off, the last barrier to your bountiful breasts is the emerald green bra you put in, hopeful that Eddie would have a chance to see it before the night ends. Now here he is, an owlish look on his wonder filled face, “Wow.” Heat climbed through you at the raw realness on display in Eddie’s features. That’s when you decided that you can’t wait any longer and took his wrists in your hands, placing them on your waist as you stepped into his arms, “Eddie, baby, please? Please touch me.” He doesn’t respond with words. Gripping you tight enough to bruise, your head is tipped back to make room for Eddie’s roving mouth as he scorches a path down your neck. At the swell of your breasts he slowed down, savoring the flavor of your skin, teasing you with his tongue. Licking over the lace of your bra, Eddie sucked on your hardened nipple through the fabric, the foreign sensation making you jump under his ministrations. You tangled a fist in his hair, pulling against the loose curls, and he let you direct his mouth back to your own bee stung lips as you mewl, “Need you, Eddie. Need you now.” “Fuck, baby.” Walking you backwards, Eddie lowered you onto his bed, following you down to the mattress. His hands cupped your cheeks, brushing your hair back so he could really see you, those broad thighs pressing your own open. You could feel the delicious weight of him on top of you, his hard cock unavoidable, and you rolled your hips into Eddie’s just to hear him groan. In a rush now, Eddie ripped your pants off in a flash, taking your panties with them. Kneeling between your spread legs, he laid his hands over his heart, “I really love-” you angled up onto your elbows, anticipating how he’ll finish his sentence, “-my Christmas gift. Thank you so much for bringing it over, even if you had to walk a mile in the snow.” “You shit!” Giggling at his theatrics, you grabbed for him, only satisfied when he’s draped over your prone figure. There’s a kiss then, and another, and another until they blend together in your mind. Some are sweet and slow. Some tender and testing. Others are sloppy, teeth clicking, tongue sucking kisses. Hands are everywhere. They glide along hairy thighs and smooth arms. They paused to fondle, to flick, to squeeze. They never stopped moving. Fingers find ticklish spots to linger on, drawing out laughter, high and sweet. Fingers press hard into soft skin. They dig in, they hold on. When Eddie’s bold enough, he touches you at the dark, damp cavern of your core. The un-rushed attention is overwhelming and it doubles in intensity when his calloused middle finger finds a home surrounded by your satin walls. Clutching at his arms, you wailed thinly, “More, Eddie, more, please.” A second finger breached your wet cleft, the stretch delicious and somehow delicate because Eddie’s listening to you, to your body, and he’s not rushing. His gaze had not left yours, the show you’re putting on is just too good to miss and he has a front row seat. Kissing over your tummy, moving lower, you bucked into his grip just as his plush pout pressed against your straining clitoris. Fisting his pillow with one hand, the other curled possessively around the back of his neck, holding him steady. Holding him close. Holding out for the inevitable peak of your pleasure, brought on by the unceasing attention of your lover. Panting, your thighs quaked, the ecstatic energy gathering in your body ready to explode. It’s been so long since you had someone take care of you, worry about pleasing you, think about getting you off first, that when your orgasm hits it is leveling. The air huffs out of you in short bursts as your body goes rigid, all of your limbs seem to lock up, and every molecule of your form is concentrated on the overriding bliss created by Eddie and his feelings for you. Maybe you blacked out, you don’t really know what else to call the far away floating sensation that accompanied your little death. What you do know is that Eddie has you gathered in his arms, your head cradled over that spot- your spot on his chest, his heartbeat the first sound that breaks through the fog of your climax. Rocking you back and forth, soft kisses pressing into the crown of your head, as Eddie cooed, “I got you, pretty girl. It’s alright. You’re ok, honey.” Shivering as you come down from your intense high, stray tears cascaded down your cheeks, but these are not born of sadness. Experiencing euphoria like this was overwhelming and you gratefully sunk into Eddie’s warmth, hiccuping, “I’m- I’m ok, Eddie. I’m- thank you. Thank you so much.” “Thank me? Sweetheart, I didn’t do-” Swiveling in his arms, you peered up at him through wet eyes, “But you did! You do. You always take such great care of me and tonight, all this, it’s no exception.” And you kissed him with everything you had in your heart, saying ‘I love you’ with your body over and over again. When you pulled back this time, a small hand on Eddie’s stubbled cheek, you shook your head, not believing that you were here, now, with this loving man, “I think I must be dreaming.” “Then, please, for the love of Ozzy, do not wake up.” An undignified snort of laughter snuck out of you and Eddie takes advantage of the distraction to lay you back on the bed. Floppy and boneless, you’re spread out and giggling, ready for whatever Eddie wanted to do. You run your foot over his leg, landing on his hip before he wrapped a hand around your ankle, steadying his hold on you to ensure that you were open wide for him. You nibbled on your pinky finger, knowing what came next, but playing coy. That sweetness, the innocent way you batted your eyelashes at him, it made Eddie throb. Yearning to be inside of you, he smooched at the skin of your inner thigh, “God, you’re so fucking pretty. Can I touch you, beautiful? Can I make you feel good?” Why would you ever say no to that? Letting your calves lock around his, you lifted your hips up so that you could hump against Eddie, “Please, Eddie, for fuck’s sake!” And then he was fisting himself, lining the hardest part of his body up with the softest part of your own, “Hey, hey, look at me.” Locked in on Eddie’s blown out stare, you licked over your bottom lip, which only made him groan. Dropping his chin, he shook his head, “You- you can’t look at me like that, baby. I’m going to cum before I ever get to feel you if you keep that up.” “But, I didn’t-” Running a hand through his hair so that it fell over his shoulder, he husked, “You can’t help it. You’re just so damned adorable and-” the expansive head of his cock caught at the slick circle of your quim, “-And I fucking love you.” Inhaling sharply, your body arched off the bed and straight into Eddie’s chest at his first breaching thrust. Hands tensing, your nails clawed at his forearms as he stilled, giving you time to adjust to his shattering length and stretching width. Distracting you, Eddie’s mouth dotted kisses along the base of your throat and over your jaw, before huskily growling into your ear, “I’m gonna move now, ok?” Noiseless, you nodded as Eddie kept his word. Withdrawing slowly, Eddie was exercising all the control he possessed to ensure that you got the best of him. And even with his concentration focused on the long, smooth strokes of his thrusts, he still managed to touch you, kiss you, mumble out sounds like yes and fuck and your name. “Eddie, more, please?” You hadn’t meant to whine but he felt so good that you wanted all you could get. It was as if you had cut him free by asking that question. Eddie let his body reply, rolling his hips, no longer pulling free from your velvet vice. Instead he surged forward, deeper and deeper with every press of his pelvis against your own.

Your sweaty skin had gone over goosebumps, a shivering, shining sensation spiraling from your core. You found your voice but could only manage to whimper as Eddie let a free hand rake over your thigh before his fingers landed on your clit, rubbing in light circles. The contact made your muscles clench and through gritted teeth, Eddie cursed, “Fucking hell, sweetheart!” His reaction made you giggle breathlessly, “I’m so close Eddie. Are you? Are you gonna cum?” “Yea. Yea I am, honey. Can you hold on? Cum with me?” Hugging him, your back off the mattress, you peppered him with kisses, agreeing with a happy hum. Eddie kept his rhythm, the even movement of his fingers, and when he felt his own eminent ending, took a beat to encourage you, “Sweetheart, please? Let go for me, yea? Wanna- shit- wanna feel you cum around my cock.” Language like that would have made you embarrassed before but coming from Eddie’s sweet, sweet mouth it set you aflame, “Eddie! Yes! Yes, baby!” Your ruinous release arrived with a shout of his name. Going rigid under Eddie as he rocked into you, his palm pressed to the center of your chest, right over your heart, and then he shuddered above you, his forehead coming to rest against your own as you both fought to catch your breath.

But then Eddie pushed away, abruptly, the overflowing spend of his ecstasy wetting your thighs. It left a cold and empty gap between you when he turned his back to you, his shoulders hunched. Sitting up, you moved to Eddie’s side, “Eddie? Are you- are you ok?” There was no answer, so you crawled to his side, but he avoided looking at you, so you draped a hand on his meaty quad, squeezing slightly, as you asked, “Babe, what’s going on?” Kneeling on the bed in front of the man who just gave you two delicious orgasms, you were utterly shocked at the sight that met you; Eddie, skin shiny from sweat, sitting cross legged, was biting into his knuckle. It was the reason which broke you. He was crying. Tough, beautiful, Eddie Munson was crying. Sobbing really, and to stifle the sound, his teeth were gouging into the flesh of his finger. Once more he tried to avoid you, but you were quick to pull his arm down, “Eddie, what happened?” “I-” his voice was thick, embarrassed and full of emotion, “-I’ve never- What we just did, I-” When you realized that he couldn’t get the words out, you took his hands in yours, kissing over the pulse point of each wrist, “Imma need you to take a deep breath, babe. There ya go!” And you praised him when he inhaled brokenly. Puffing out his cheeks on the exhale, he allowed your clever fingers to wipe away his tears, apologizing, “I’m so sorry. So sorry, sweetheart.” “For what? Where’s this coming from?” “For being a big baby, now, after we just-” damp and wet cheeked, his pretty brown eyes found yours in the dim, “-after we made love.”

“Oh, Eddie.” Your hand cupped his cheek and he leaned into the warmth he found there, sighing. For the first time in your relationship, you were able to offer Eddie the sort of comfort and care that he had shown you so many times. Wasting no time, you straddled his lap, wrapping him in a hug. He hooked his chin over your shoulder, “I just- I’ve never had anyone love me. Not like this and-” You silenced him with your lips, your tongue prying into his mouth, drinking the sadness from the source. All of your want, all of your love, all of it went into the kiss you laid on Eddie. When you leaned back far enough to stare at your man, you were met with his earnest expression, still raw and real.

Your forehead nudged into his, a half-smile playing on your lips, “Hey.” “Hey.” Still sounding sad, Eddie let a chuckle burst out of him, but you found it endearing, encouraging. Eddie let his hands find a place on the thick meat of your tush, keeping you close as you nuzzled into his neck, “I love you, Eddie. All of you. And for so many reasons.” “Yea?” He sounded like he still couldn’t believe it. That this was all too good to be true. Pulling back on his hair, he hissed but didn’t try to stop you. “Yea, Eddie. Yea, I do. I fucking love you.” Then he was laughing. A joyful, open, happy sound that brightened the room and made you smile wide. Eddie lightly slapped your ass, his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips as he licked open mouth kisses along the top of your chest, leaving red marks along the way. Laughing too, you basked in the bubble of love that the two of you were creating. Dragging you to his side, your head rested against his chest, over your special spot. His heart was thumping, steady and strong, already lulling you to sleep, when you tipped your head up, “Merry Christmas, Eddie.” “Uh, Merry Christmas.” And what happened next, well in Hawkins, they say, that Eddie Munson’s small heart grew three sizes that day. On Christmas morning, Eddie cooked you breakfast, and made sure there was plenty of fresh coffee for Uncle Wayne to come home to. After the dishes were washed, you pulled his gift out of your snow stained bag, “This is for you.” “Aw, baby! You didn’t have to do this.” Shifting your weight, you nervously danced, “I know! But, well… OPEN IT!” The paper tore away quickly, revealing a framed photo of the two of you sitting on lounge chairs at Steve’s house, happiness visible on both of your faces. When he looked at the picture it was painfully obvious; you were in love even then. It was clear from the way you leaned into each other, your head resting right over his heart, exactly where it belonged. All you needed to make that love a reality was a Christmas miracle, but those only come around once a year. A lump rose in Eddie’s throat. Maybe there was something to this holiday after all. Something about love and caring and showing people how much they meant to you. Maybe it wasn’t about the cost of gifts or the wrapping paper; the ornaments or the parties. Maybe Christmas wasn’t so bad. Not if it brought you two together, once and for all. Shit. Steve had been right. Eddie was going to have to thank his friend for the motivational speech. When he saw your expectant look, Eddie cleared his throat, declaring, “I love it. Thank you, so so much.” Extending his hand, you took it, letting him settle you in his lap, humming, “And I love you, so so much.” When Wayne came home, you were curled in Eddie’s lap, his arm holding you close. Both of you were sleeping peacefully, the tv playing a repeat of the holiday parade. He shook his head, happy in his heart. Merry Christmas, indeed. —------FIN—-----

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ed-recovery-affirmations · 10 months

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Thank you for your blog, it truly means so much to see your kind words and know that I am not alone.

On that note- does anyone else feel like your ed is just kind of sapping the life out of you? I make it to work fine but it seems I have so much less energy for things I used to enjoy. Not physically - I’m eating not great, but ok. But mentally. I feel so exhausted by the search for a therapist, the hoops to jump through, the constant thinking/planning about food, etc.

I know I haven’t been there for my friends, some of whom are going through a really hard time rn, and it’s killing me. I normally love Christmas and all that comes with it, but I haven’t sent a single card or put thought into gifts. Etc. Because once I’m done with my “must do”s I just want to lie in bed and stare at my phone.

Not sure if there’s advice for this, haha. I’m just wondering if anyone else feels this way and if there’s anything you can do about that. Thank you 💕

Oh yes, this is very real and I bet you’ll find you’re not alone. Having an ED and putting the work into ED recovery can be all-consuming. Do remember that it’s okay to put this time into yourself. Prioritizing your healing now will lay such a good groundwork for the healed person you can become. But it is also okay to take a little time to grieve what this is taking from you - that, for example, you are going to have to have a much less elaborate holiday season this year, just because you are doing what you can manage. I think it’d be a good idea to do what you can manage for the holidays, just so you can take a few moments this month to enjoy something you traditionally enjoy, but try not to beat yourself up if the fanfare is much milder than you’ve managed in previous years, which can be difficult, as those of us in ED recovery tend to be perfectionists. The holidays can give us a lot of pressure to put on a big show, too, but remember that at the end of the day, it’s really about your own love and light and joy. So try to focus on what that means for you right now and enjoy what you can of it, and when you’re getting drained, you can stop. Learning to take on only what you can manage and being kind to yourself about it is a great way of practicing listening to what your body and your mind need.

As to your friends and their hard times - you too are going through a hard time. It’s admirable to want to be there for your friends, but there are going to be times in life where you have to put on your own oxygen mask first in a crisis, and that does not make you a bad friend. If you explain to your friends “I see what you’re going through and wish I could do more for you, but I am also overwhelmed with some difficult things I am dealing with right now.” A good friend should understand that. If you feel comfortable detailing your struggles to eat and find a good therapist, that might help give them more context, but you can also let them know if you don’t feel comfortable talking more about it at this time. Just affirming to them that you do still care can go a long way, even if you can’t do more - which is okay. There are going to be times in life, because life does get complicated, where you have to prioritize some things of your own, and help your friends as much as you can. And we all must learn to do what we can do, and to accept to ourselves when we have reached those limits and tell ourselves that what we can do is enough. You’re still allowed to feel frustrated, drained, and missing the things you used to be able to do. Those things will cone back - or you will build new joys as they fit your life wherever you’re at, and that’s okay too. I hope you are able to find some amounts of joy in this holiday season.

#ed recovery #put on your own oxygen mask first #self love #self care #holidays #holiday season #holiday stress #mental fatigue

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ms-oswald · 1 year

Text

timeless | chapter four

author's note: almost reaching the end with this one - the chapter was a little bit tougher, still emotional, but hopefully it's worth the read :) Lots of love and stay safe 💕

The new year came and went, the season rolling towards its end as the city rested under its temperamental weather.

Some time had passed since the coven gathering, the events having become a simple dusted memory.

Though that night was bittersweet, it had allowed Finan to lead the semblance of a normal life, engorging himself within the depth of her embrace.

Becca had followed, wanting nothing more than to gift him the simplest of joys.

It carried them through the holidays, and over the lasting months of winter.

And however strong it was built, cracks were starting to shake the foundation to its core, crumbling under the weight of fear and anger.

Survivors were still being assessed for damage.

“Marcus.” Her voice carried across the wide room as they were the only ones left. “What do I owe this surprise visit, brother?”

The man in question had been sitting in the crowd, hiding himself at the corner top of the class while silently watching over Becca’s teaching. She had only noticed his presence when peering over her students, taking a mental note of the present volume.

Breath stuck to her throat, she shook off the uneasiness and went on with her lesson of the day, focusing on her work.

When it came time to dismiss them, her brother had walked down the steps towards her, slowly until the room was empty.

“Am I not allowed to visit my little sister and see her in action?” He tried to tease, adding a little amusement to his tone of voice.

She saw right through it, knowing that his visit held a bigger agenda.

Becca loved her brother; he was one of the very few parental figures in her life she had a good relationship with. They bantered and fought like any other siblings, but at the end of the day, she knew their bond could withstand even the worst of storms.

“Marcus.” She pressed on his name, pushing him to reveal his reason for the sudden appearance.

Standing in front of her, he sighed, giving up the pretense. “I’m here because I’m worried about you.”

She frowned at his words.

They were close but it never meant they were always talking to each other. They each led their own lives, which meant they were apart from each other more often than they were together. It was confusing enough to have him show up out of the blue, it was worse when he seemed genuinely concerned for her.

“Have you been spying on me?”

“I don’t have too to know what’s going on. You’ve been the talk over the holidays. We’re all worried.”

She dismissed him as she started packing her belongings, clearing her desk as fast as she could. “No need to be troubled, I have everything under control.”

He scoffed, his body tensing at her apathetic reaction. “Really? Does having everything under control include the nightmares you’ve been having, little sister?”

As shock dawned across her features, he proceeded with an answer to her silent inquiry. “Finan came to see me… You two haven’t been speaking, he says. Some kind of couple’s quarrel I gather?”

The grip to her bag had tightened, her gaze diverting elsewhere as she swallowed the lump in her throat. “It is none of your business.” Once again, she had tried to push her brother away, not wanting to be stuck in her current position any longer.

He grew annoyed at her demeanour, not understanding why she was taking things so lightly. She was struggling - he could see it, and yet she remained poised, too stubborn to concede.

“You made it my business when you’ve willingly been giving away your life for a bloody curse that does not concern you!” The increased vocals had caught her by surprise. Dropping her bag, a light thud reaching the desk, she turned back to him, eyes wide.

She remained still; he continued.

“You woke up with a sliced throat Rebecca! She almost killed you!” At the mention of the nightmare that had torn the couple apart, she held onto herself; hands on her stomach and gripping at her shirt, as if to stabilize her body in its stance. She looked down, avoiding Marcus’ worried stare. The bile had come back, an uninvited guest, crippling her.

He let out a heavy breath, the tension following suit. He tried to become calm, noticing she was starting to crack at the seam. “Finan told me what happened. You need to stop this madness. I know you love him. But you must stop.”

She tried to swallow, though it did nothing but trigger tears stalking the corners of her eyes. She couldn’t look at her brother, and so she stood still, her head down. “I can’t let her win.”

And she didn’t need to turn to him; he knew her like the back of his hand. He approached her, hand on her shoulder. “She wins when she kills you, sister.”

Anger was surging, like an ember; the plea for her abandonment was dragging her patience thin, the way you drag a child away from amusement.

She pushed his hand away, finally lifting her head to him as bitterness scraped her tongue. “Then help me, brother.” The tone of her voice insinuated mockery of the title before switching to anguish. “Help me get rid of her. As the oldest in the next generation, you are powerful. Help me. I beg you.”

His shoulders dropped, beaten down by her plea. Had the situation been different, he would’ve offered her anything she needed.

But the consequences were too dire to meddle in the affairs of the old witch.

It wasn’t worth his risk.

And so, he had no choice but to solemnly turn his only sister down. “You know I can’t.”

She bit down the inside of her cheek, forcing herself to suppress her tears. She grew irritated instead, forsaken once again by one of her own.

“You’re just like the rest of them, then.” She breathed in deeply, holding onto her bag as she looked away, no longer able to hold her brother’s pitiful gaze. “Just go. I’ll finish this on my own.”

He was unrelenting, praying that she would get hold of some sense of the danger she was walking into.

“What happens if you fail? What then?”

She was about done putting her paperwork in her bag when she suddenly stopped at his words, the syllables of failure ringing in her ears. “I won’t fail.” She closed her eyes, a part of her ever so slowly succumbing; her hands gripped onto the desk, knuckles white from the strength, not ready to give up. “I cannot fail him.” Her breath was shaking, following the subtle tremors of her body.

He sighed as he ran his hand through his hair.

A moment’s passed, the silence hung heavy in the air as he watched her, heartbroken.

He leaned against her desk, hand on hers, a brotherly gesture she had missed.

He spoke gently, wanting to make her see what her stubbornness was causing.

“He is miserable. It doesn’t look like he has been sleeping and last I saw him, an elephant could have fainted at the amount of bourbon he was drinking.” He saw her jaw tightened - his words were getting through, creating cracks in the hopes the pieces would shatter. “He misses you, and he is terrified of losing you. Why can’t you understand that?

“I understand it, Marcus-”

Irritation had reached him, the stems pricking him.

“You just don’t care, is that it?”

And so now, she lashed out. Her voice carried across the wide classroom as she turned her body to fully face her brother, vexed and saddened. “Of course, I care! That’s why I’m doing this!” She went back to her bag, picking it up and ready to walk out. “Now if you’ll excuse me.”

“The witch won’t stop until you are dead. Know this.” She had her back to him, walking out when she halted in her steps. She then turned around, finding her brother standing right by her side.

“As long as I can defeat her, I don’t care what she does to me.” She stepped forward, staring him right in his eyes, her pain apparent in her pupils. “What she did to him was inhumane. It is cruel.”

His words had left without a thought attached to them. They had slipped out too quickly, unable to be caught in time. “No crueler than the reason she cursed him?”

She clenched her jaw, falling in disbelief at his remark. “Screw you-” She was ready to leave him again, but he caught her, his hand catching her arm and forcing her still.

He regretted it just as quickly as they left, retracting his words with an apology. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.” He lifted his hands up in a sign of a retreat before dropping them with a heavy breath escaping his lungs. “You’re my little sister, Rebecca… I’m just scared you’re out of your depth here.”

She still hadn’t caved into his worries, too angry to be subdued by his pity. “Which is why you’re helping me? Or is that still out of the question?” He didn’t speak up; she hadn’t let him. “Don’t say you are concerned for my safety when none of you are offering help.”

Once more, a sibling tantrum had taken over, distancing brother and sister from their bond - temporarily.

“I’m sorry I don’t want to be haunted and tormented for the rest of my life and beyond. I have a wife and children to think about!”

Stubbornness ran in their family, the trait clinging to her like a child. Though, it wasn’t reason enough for him to give up; he wasn’t going to lose his sister over a fight that had started before their family was even born. “Drop whatever you’re doing and reconcile with him. Let this go.”

And just as such, she remained headstrong, not ready to give up - she still had a case to be heard.

“What if my dearest sister-in-law was in his shoes? What then? Would you still be so adamant to drop everything and leave her be?”

Disappointed she stooped so low, he looked back at her with the sentiment covering his features. “That’s not fair.”

“Exactly.” She stood her ground, not withering away from the upset gaze she was receiving. “I don’t care if she gets me as long as he is free from her. That’s all I want.” Her gaze then softened, the echo of Finan’s pain resonating through her bones. “He needs it. He can’t keep going on like this.”

Once again, he sighed, exasperated, as his head dropped in thought. Becca knew her brother well enough to see the gears in his brain turning, contemplating.

It took a moment, and she let him be, her stance loosening away from the tension.

He ran his hand down his face, his right arm standing at his hip. From the ground, he tilted his head back up to her, his chest letting out one last breath before gifting her with the possibility of a new avenue.

“Sacrifices need to be made if you want to succeed. Plead your case to them. Don’t do this on your own.”

She furrowed her brows, her own thoughts connecting the dots to his remark. “You mean-”

He nodded at her question, his shoulders joining in a composed shrug. “If she did it and invoked chaos, why can’t you do it as well and call for order?”

He shared a comforting smile as he backed away, ready to leave.

As he turned around and went for the classroom door, she stopped him, her own anxiety reaching the surface. “Marcus-”

He sensed the tears crawling to her irises, the colour shimmering under the weight of the water. Her voice cracked, her heartache resonating towards him. “Why is this happening?”

Walking back, he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her in protectively; the bear hug was the brotherly gesture that would always bring her comfort.

This time around however, she was left with a dissatisfying aftertaste that clung to her, wearing her heavy.

“I don’t know, dear sister. I just hope you win this fight. For your sake.” He pulled away, his eyes finding hers as he shifted his head down. He remained gentle, wanting now to ease his little sister’s ache. “You are right. The man deserves peace.” And then, something shifted; the air surrounding them was suspended with a slight rift - invisible to the naked eye, though he still sensed it.

It left a ghost of a smile covering the right corner of his lips. “Something tells me you will be recompensed for this.”

His goodbye left her confused, his words haunting her without understanding their meaning.

Once he was out of sight and she stood alone, her gaze fell to the clock that hung above the door.

Her legs grew weak. She took a seat, her bag dropping to the ground.

She leaned over, her elbows resting on her knees with her fingers grasping at her hair.

Closing her eyes, the events that led to tonight were finding their path into her sight, blinding her. They hadn’t spoken nor seen one another since the night he walked out on her, since the night she had woken up with blood spewing from her throat.

It had been weeks.

She reached for her neck, rubbing the lingering ghost of discomfort that coated her skin; she had been forced to relive the death of Finan’s first love.

And it destroyed him.

Playing it over, and over again took its toll.

Tears had smothered her cheeks, sorrow imbued into their purpose.

She had become a spectator of her own show, the scene displaying itself in all its gory details.

It had happened in the middle of the night, all too rapidly. The way she woke up in terror, unable to breathe as she clutched at her throat, blood seeping through from the deep cut of a dagger, down her body to the bed sheets.

She tried shaking the violent images away, the soreness still resounding over her limb.

Her amulet had protected her from instant death, the simulation growing weaker until it disappeared.

But it was the scene that followed that turned out to be more painful than its predecessor - Finan had walked out, furious and horrified.

The clock was quietly ticking away, the only sound vibrating within the walls of the wide room, becoming a haunting melody to her ears.

The longer it went on, the heavier her shoulders felt.

She couldn’t bear another minute dropping while being apart from him.

Without a second thought, she picked up her bag and ran for the door, desperate to shorten the stretch of time that separated them.

“How did you find me?”

“Locator spell.”

She was standing by his side, facing his profile while he stared at his drink. Her words didn’t get a reaction out of him, which she half-expected. “You went to Marcus behind my back…” It was more of a statement than an accusation, or even a question.

And yet, nothing came of him; from his glass, he simply looked up, his eyes landing on whatever the screen was displaying above the bar.

She sighed, taking a seat next to him. She took a minute, fidgeting with her fingers as she looked around; the tiniest of smiles was itching across her lips.

“This is where we first met…”

“I guess it is.” It was barely a mumble, though loud enough for her to hear.

He remained distant, avoiding eye contact with her.

He was still hurting.

He took a sip from his beer, giving himself the chance to look around as well - wanting to wander at anything but her.

He wasn’t strong enough to face her; having brutally cut ties was one of the hardest thing he ever had done and it still gnawed at him from the inside out.

“Please, come back home.” The gentle plea was laced with grief.

Finan was expecting more light chit-chatter to dissuade the tensing thickness that had wrapped around them. Such awkwardness was strangling them.

He tightened his grip to his glass, her words making his shoulders stiffened.

He was dying to go back to her, but lost the courage to do it.

He took another sip, letting the bitter liquid sit on his tongue before he swallowed. He still didn’t lift his head up to her. Instead, he was looking down to the counter, the corner of his eyes meeting her hands that rested on her lap.

“The night we met.” He wasn’t thinking about what to say, his mind having taken over his will to speak. “I felt like a different man… Like I was alive again, truly alive, and not just some poor soul wandering through the passing centuries.”

He closed his eyes, gathering his strength to keep going. He felt like he was going to crumble and disappear under the rubble, his heart giving out from how deep his love for her ran in his veins. His mind then went back to the night they met, the impromptu connection that formed the second they had laid eyes on each other. “You gave me something that night that I still carry with me every single day. And yet, the closer we got, the deeper we fell-” He bit down on his tongue, trying to stop himself, but part of him pushed him out, the words stumbling. “I can’t help but wonder if all this was orchestrated by her, if…”

By the end of it, she was in tears again, holding back a sob that lodged in her throat.

She leaned towards him, placing her hand above his, the warmth of it humming against her skin.

He turned his head just enough to see the interaction, still unable to meet her.

“We met because Fate made it so. Not because of the curse.” She then reached for him, her fingers delicately placed under his chin, turning his head to her. He had shut his eyes, pained scribbled furiously across his face.

Her heart ached.

She let him be, leaning closer as she spoke only to him. “When I first saw you, I don’t know what it was, but I just- it was like the world disappeared. Like it was just the two of us left. This makes me believe she had nothing to do with that night. That was us. Just us and no one else.”

“How are ya so sure?” He had pulled away, the weight of her words growing heavier.

Her fingertips grew cold from the lack of touch; it pained her.

She pulled her hand away, though her body remained close to his, adamant.

“Because I can feel it.” Her nose itched, the urge to cry coming through like a wave. “I feel it in everything we do. It overwhelms me, and it’s exhilarating… It’s all from here.” She placed her hand on his chest, right over his broken heart. “There is no more powerful magic than that.”

He sat still, the warmth of her touch sending chills down his spine, his heart rate accelerating.

“Finan, look at me.” He finally moved on his own, his head tilting to her, though his eyes only reached the counter once again. She remained gentle and patient. “What are you thinking about?”

He struggled to put the words out, his heart squeezing itself tight, suffocating from his mind’s wandering thoughts.

“I-I lose the women I love… What if it’s part of the curse?”

He finally gathered whatever strength he had left to look at her, meeting her eyes at last. They held sorrow, mirroring his own browns, though a drop of lingering panic had seeped in, curling itself with his words. “You almost died. I was holding you in my arms and ya were d-dying.”

He stopped, catching his breath.

She was quiet, still - waiting.

“I cannot go through that again.” His eyes went to her neck; all he could see was the blood tainting her skin, freshly rolling down into oblivion.

It broke him.

She had noticed where his gaze landed. She diverted his eyes back to her, her fingers resting against his cheek.

“And I am scared of losing you as well. You’re not alone in feeling like this.”

He said nothing.

Instead, a moment of silence encircled them - a few seconds too long before she eventually broke it. “When Marcus came to see me, he mentioned there is another way.”

“What do you mean?”

“I need to invoke some higher power…” She shared an attempt at a comforting smile, a little something to hopefully ease the discomfort that had been inhabiting him. “We’ll be alright, my love.” She gently ran her fingers through his hair before stroking his cheek, a tender gesture he quietly welcomed. “We’ll get through this. Just please come home.”

She pleaded to him once again, despair leaping. “Come home to me.”

He was still hesitant; the fear had taken hold of him and so he thought it best to leave her be.

Becca grew annoyed, irritated at his lack of determination.

“Be selfish, Finn!” Her voice was just loud enough to catch some of the other’s attention, the ones closest to them in the vicinity. She breathed out and lowered her tone. “You’re allowed to want your freedom. To die at last and never having to wake up again. To be mortal… Be selfish with me. Come home.”

He swallowed the lump in his throat, drowning his insides with such ache. Tears in his eyes, he could only look away from her, the back of his head facing Becca.

He stayed mute.

The straws were falling - she was hanging on to the last one, splinters covering its body, close to breaking.

She clenched her jaw; his silence forced her out.

She walked away, her heart breaking, the shards cutting her deep.

Finan saw her leave, her feet leading her to the exit and out of sight; it filled him with dread, regret soaking in his blood.

Had she finally given up on him?

The pain of possibly losing her had coated the depth of his soul, his own self unable to breathe from such suffocating thoughts.

Watching her walk away had made it worse.

Abandoning his drink, he ran for the door and out onto the streets, hoping she hadn’t disappeared completely out of his life.

Hit with a cool breeze, he found her facing the street at the edge of the sidewalk with her head down.

She had fallen apart, silently crying as woe overtook her limbs.

He watched her, remorse crowding him.

Ever so gently, he walked to her. Once he stood close enough, she turned around, having sensed his presence.

The sight hurt him.

“Finding other ways to tear me down?” Her tone was bitter, the sentiment coating the back of her throat.

“Bex.”

She stepped back from him, her hand resting against his chest. “No. I’m not done.” She remained tearful, her emotions spewing out like an overflowing sink. “We’ve been at this for months now, why the change of heart? And don’t tell me it is because of her because she has been coming at me from the start and you never ran.” Her voice trembled, just as her body was against the cold night.

He frowned, hand scratching at his beard. “Bex, she almost killed you. Do you not realize what this would have meant had she succeeded?”

“Yes, I know. I’m not as blind as you or my brother think me to believe. I know what she is doing, or at least trying to do.”

The sour look in her eyes forced him to turn his head away from her, tears reaching his own hues.

Her sullen behaviour had finally caught up, the chaotic swerve of emotions forcing her to the ground.

She understood his pain, the fear that grasped him by the throat; if he was letting it win, why was she still fighting?

She tightened her hold around her coat, crossing her arms over her chest.

The bitterness that coloured her irises had been replaced by angst, a tortuous feeling crippling her heart.

“I don’t think I can keep fighting you on this…” He tilted his head to her, still without a word as her mouth moved for more. “You keep pushing me away and I feel like I won’t be able to hang on any longer. It’s like I’m standing at the edge of a cliff and one more push and I fall over.”

She became a blubbering mess, like a teenager hyped up on hormones and over-heightened senses.

She hugged herself closer, holding a firmer grasp to the fabric of her clothes. “You can’t leave me, Finan. Please don’t leave me over this.”

They locked eyes, her plea cutting his breath short.

“If not for me, at least, for yourself. You can’t-”

She was growing impatient; letting go of her waist, she ran her fingers through her hair, her feet marching to him. She lifted her head up, her gaze set on his as hurt trapped her. “Finan, I love you.” She leaned closer, just enough to feel his breath as she whispered against his mouth. “Come back to me.”

He felt her press her lips against his, the kiss moving slowly, tenderly. It was almost shy.

She then pulled away, feeling just as broken as the night he walked away. They stood still for a second, the lingering stare squeezing the air that floated between them.

He placed his hands on her cheeks, wiping her tears away and placing a kiss at the top of her head before resting against her forehead.

But it was only in passing, her cries still controlling her body as she mumbled under her breath her undying love for him. She broke away from his stare, her head dropping straight to the view in front of her. “Don’t leave me, don’t you dare leave me.” Her hands into fists, she had been lightly hitting him. It was a simple tug against his chest. He let her be, openly giving her the outlet she needed as he pulled away, though his hands never left her as they held her upper arms. He watched her intently, his heart never recuperating from the overdrive of emotions powering through them. “I know you love me, so please stay.”

Had he been further away, he wouldn’t have been able to hear the supplication crawling out of her.

Being selfish had cost him.

And he was terrified of doing it again, even though every cell in his body scolded him, pushing him to jump and take a leap of faith. To succumb to his want and simply be with her, amidst the chaos growing around them.

“Bex-”

The simple mention of her name, rolling down his tongue, carried such weight, such fright and dread, such terror.

She peered at him, catching the glint of sorrow in his eyes. She understood him; it was the way he had called out for her, it was all too evident, all to clear to miss.

Because she felt it too.

“I know.”

He wrapped his arms around her, bring ing her back to him as she did the same, clinging on for dear life before they eventually parted.

The way home remained quiet.

Back at her place, the atmosphere within them still shifted between tension and awkwardness. They weren’t sure what to do now.

They were standing apart, just looking at each other, trapped in the stillness of their home.

Watching her attentively, he could see the gears in her head turning, her posture giving it away. “Do you want some tea?” She was nervous, the emotional breakdown from earlier having gone through her at a rapid pace, leaving her with an estranged aftertaste.

“Sure.”

She took in his calm demeanour - unbeknownst he was dying inside, still ripped to pieces at the heartache they were drowning in.

She turned her back, walking to the kitchen, and went for the kettle while grabbing two mugs and putting them out.

She sensed him move about until she heard the shower turned on.

Out of his sight, her shoulders slumped, head dropped as she leaned towards the counter, letting the hiss of the boiling water cover her ears.

He had slipped away, needing a moment to recuperate himself and a hot shower would help clearing the tension carved in his muscles.

Under the running water, eyes closed, his mind wandered to the moments he got to live with her, wanting to feel again like they were anybody else with no threat or doom looming over them. Like their world wasn’t ending and they were simply a normal couple going through a rough patch.

Whether the recollections were lighthearted, romantic in nature, or even the ones that soaked in lust, he buried himself within the past months, wanting to get away from his predicament and the last couple of weeks.

The nightmares had swaddled him, the fabric of fear and paranoia gripping him like second skin.

He feared for her life and had thought that walking out, running away, would make all of this stop.

He should have known she wouldn’t given up.

How could she, when all she ever wanted was to grant him his freedom? The thing he longed for the longest, but never the most.

Not anymore.

Once done, feeling like he was waking up from a long sleep, he walked out to find her at the kitchen table, a simple wooden round and small enough to contain two seats; one for her, one for him.

She was lost in her thoughts while staring at her cup, the steam floating and roaming around.

He silently joined her, the air thick with tension.

Taking a seat, he sipped his tea, the warm liquid running through with a new wave of physical renewal pecking him.

She didn’t move, her body sticking to her chair, her eyes away from his.

He watched her, his pulsing heartbeat vibrating within him; there was a subtle beauty to her sadness, and he couldn’t look away. It moved him, the feel of her grief stretching him to the ends of the earth, grounding him as her vulnerability reached the deepest part of his soul and shaking him awake.

It was beyond everything he’s ever known.

He saw her strength, but she was barely hanging on by a thread.

The realization, the seismic events that had occurred in these last few months - he was wrong.

He was so wrong, he cursed at himself.

He loved her. With everything that lived inside him, he adored her.

And it pained him to know he was the cause of her sorrows.

“I’m sorry.” His apology was spoken as a whisper, his voice still carrying weight to her ears.

From her mug, her eyes lifted to him. She was no longer angry, only empathetic. “You don’t have to apologize-”

“Of course I do.” His shoulders had dropped, his back resting against the chair, defeated by his own self. “Becca-” He exhaled deeply, running his hand through his beard before his arm fell to the table, his fingers gripping at his mug while trying to find the courage to relive that forsaken night.

It took a minute, but he eventually found his footing and kept going.

“I thought I had lost ya. I thought I was reliving one of the worst moments of my life.” He stopped, the memories of his past crawling into his skin with a ghosting ache. “I lost her, I lost my wife- now you-”

Once again, he cut his breath short, the last of his words hanging, like a noose around his neck. He turned away, his head facing the darkened view through the kitchen window on his right.

She had remained quiet, waiting ever so patiently for him to say his piece.

He swallowed the bile lodged in his throat, wanting to erase the decaying imagery from his mind.

His voice was hoarse when he spoke again, his gaze finding hers once more. “I told you, months ago, that I wouldn’t run if she got to you, that I would stay and not let her frighten me, but-”

“That was before she tried to kill me…” The compassion in her voice over took him, beating himself further into the ground.

“Aye.”

She leaned against the back of her own seat, hands on her mug as her fingers played with the string of her tea bag.

“I’m sorry for being a coward, for running away. I should’ve stayed-” The pace of his heartbeat was accelerating, matching the growing rhythm of his knee shaking.

“You’re not a coward.” She was still sympathetic, yet hurt.

“I left ya-”

“And you came back.” Her hand reached for him from across the table. The movement was quickly met by a quiet breath out of his mouth. “You’re here with me.”

“I’m so sorry.” He could feel the lump in his throat rising up with force and speed.

“Stop.” The word was gentle, wanting to calm him.

She got up from her chair and approached him just as he pulled her in. She sat on his lap, her left leg crossed over while the other dangled, her toes touching the floor.

She ran her fingers through his hair, still misted from the shower, until she held him by the jaw, her nails scratching softly at his beard.

She met his eyes, the dark colour drowned in guilt and self-wreckage.

It tore her apart.

“Oh, my love…” She muttered softly between their lips, wanting nothing more than to ease the misery that was haunting him.

She then kissed him, her lips pressed desperately into his.

His arms curled around her, pushing her closer to him, needing to erase any traces of open space between them.

She whispered ‘I love you’s’ within their shared breaths, revitalizing him like fresh air into his lungs. The caress deepened as hunger and longing thrived rapidly, catching up to them after weeks of being apart.

It was consuming every part of him.

He tightened his grasp around her, the pressure of her presence creating relief flooding through his veins.

From her lips, he then trailed down to her neck, attaching himself to her limb with desperation as he kissed every inch of her exposed skin.

She let him be, knowing it was reassurance that she was alive and not injured, that she was safe and sound in his embrace as she held onto him, bodies coating in heat and desire; the pulse residing under her jawline was the nectar to his survival.

The rest of the night had been soaked in adoration, in the dire need of drowning into each other and yield under bruising passion.

The couple fell back into their own little bubble, the rest of the world pushed far away.

It was just them; entangled in Fate’s strings, bound to one another.

He was lying on his back, his head placed at the junction of her chest and her left upper arm where her hand brushed his hair softly. His head tilted towards her, resting at the swell of her breasts, the sound of her heartbeat becoming the soundtrack to his lull state as a lazy smile formed on his lips.

The simplest of joy; he closed his eyes, memorizing the music that played through his ears, engraving the notes into his own heart.

She was on her left, her leg wrapped around her lover’s stomach, the sheets barely covering the naked skin.

Her nose against his hair, she breathed him in, the scent soothing her into pure calmness.

His left hand on her right thigh, he caressed her limb in an absent-minded manner; both of them savouring the elegance of this little interlude.

Her right arm, joint with his, their fingers kissed intimately while resting in the crevices between their bodies.

The moment stretched, their breaths were dancing under the silent melody.

Even the gods themselves, watching from the heavens in wonder, defined this moment as a masterpiece; the painting was etched under kaleidoscopic light, the movements of the brush calling out for romance as colours were formed by the tenderness of a lover’s touch. It could have been depicted by one of the greats; the tangle of limbs, the quietness of the seat, the posture of models sitting to be memorized in an everlasting picture.

It was tantalizing, alluring to the naked eye, how such simplicity could be bathed in pure, unadulterated, sense of love and devotion.

The warmth seeped through the bed sheets, lasting effect from the carnal heat coating the flesh.

And then the new day was rising, gracing its skies with the hues of budding spring.

They eventually fell back asleep, the heavy breaths evident in the air.

Though light shone above them where the window faced the bed’s headboard, the curtains still protected them from the sun’s glow, gifting the couple further moments of peace.

It was just them.

The universe’s tied shifted, as if the world momentarily stopped turning on its axis, gifting them peace.

Later the same morning, a few hours passing, they were still lying in bed.

Becca was the first to escape her slumber; she had woken up with sudden hunger cramping at her stomach.

She attempted to slip out quietly when she felt an arm snaking its way around her, pulling her back in just as quickly.

The smile came on naturally, glowing across her. He sneaked in closer, tickling her as he pressed soft kisses against her naked skin, from her breasts up to her collarbone before he lingered on her neck, and eventually meeting her lips.

She sighed into his touch, the feel of his hands traveling around her body making her forget for that one moment what she wanted to do.

She happily sunk into the sensation until hunger had cried out, echoing inside her.

She gently pushed him away, nudging her nose against his before she left her bed.

He watched her move as she grabbed his discarded shirt on her way out, her naked backside disappearing from his view.

He readjusted himself on the mattress, resting his back against the headboard, his chest bare with the sunlight warming him from behind.

He couldn’t help the smile that glued to his lips. Once she came back, it had widened, his heart swelling at her appearance; her hair was messy, his shirt hung from her body with her legs naked, the lingering traces of his hands imprinted on them. He could still feel the ghostly pressures of her limbs around his hips, over his shoulders, and the taste of them lingering sweetly across his tongue.

She stood in front of the bed, holding a spoon on one hand and on the other, a small pint of ice cream.

Finan frowned, intrigued by her choice of food. “Ice cream for breakfast?”

She sported a small smile, playfully challenging him. “Mhmm. Want some?”

A gentle gleam on his face, he stretched out his arm, calling for her. “Come here.” She shyly approached him until she was close enough to be pulled by the hem of his shirt, making her sit comfortably on his lap. She scooped up another serving and presented the spoon for him to eat; he took a bite, his stare stuck to her. He teased, the playful look in his eyes, palpable. “You’re a menace.”

She matched his energy all too easily. “That’s why you are naked in my bed.” She then took another mouthful of her dessert, letting the utensil linger between her lips, taunting him.

His eyes dropped to her mouth, his own going dry. A low rumble from his throat escaped him, his hands reaching for the shirt. “You look starved.” He pulled her closer until she was flushed against him, her breath tickling him. “Your fault.” The low whisper she shared invoked a smirk across his face. “Another round before lunch?”

Not giving her the chance to answer, he slowly wrapped his arms around her waist, holding her firmly, while his eyes never left hers; it had become a staring contest, some amusement to add to their morning.

She then yelped out of shock when she was so suddenly pushed against the mattress, her legs almost dangling off the bed as he hovered above her, still holding the small tub with one hand.

Giddy as a teenager, she chased his lips for a kiss until she felt something dripping on her skin.

She gasped, the sudden feel of the cold sending shivers down her spine. She quickly pulled away while trying to grab the dessert from Finan. “You’re making a mess!”

The moment of bliss had then been suddenly interrupted by a knock on the door. The laughers died out, Becca’s gaze moving away from Finan to where the sound had come from as it repeated.

Reluctant, she moved away, forgetting about the way she was presenting herself to the intruder.

Opening the door, she had the breath knocked out of her, shocked to see who stood in front of her.

“Mum.”

And just like that, the whole world came crashing down as time was torn away from its suspense, proceeding to weave its way through the universe and forcing the couple back into reality.

Her mother stood still at the entrance, her eyes peering over her daughter’s dishevelled look from the mess in her hair down to the large shirt she as wearing, forcing Becca to tug it further down to hide her embarrassment though the cloth was big enough to conceal any unwanted attention. The elder’s gaze then shifted to the background where she saw Finan, half-dressed himself with only sweats, as he leaned against a wall with his hands joint at the front while he sported a discerning look straight back at her - as if ready to jump, to defend Becca.

The daughter grew timid at her mother’s inquisitive look until the other woman spoke, wanting to bypass the moment she had obviously disrupted. “Rebecca.”

When she was about to speak, she stopped.

Something had changed; the aura was brighter around the couple, warmer.

Something new had come upon them.

The young witch jumped, desperate to cut the lingering short. “What are you doing here? Did something happen?”

“No, well not really…” Becca looked back at Victoria, confused. “One of our elders had a vision of you. With her-”

“You were worried about me?” Furrowed brows, she was touched, an estranged feeling she was never able to associate with her mother.

Victoria ignored her question, the grip on her bag tightening as she gazed down. “Your father wanted me to bring you this. From her purse, she pulled out a ceramic urn encrusted with nordic symbols.

Becca gently took it in her hands, the item rough and old between her palms. “Freya’s urn?” From the urn, she lifted her head up back to her mother, not understanding the reason for the gesture. “How?”

“Marcus told us.”

She scoffed, leaning slightly against her door. “Didn’t waste any time, did he.” It was more of a comment than a question, a remark Victoria ignored, her heart tugging at her chest when quickly glancing between the couple again.

“You’re really going through this…”

It was stated as a matter-of-fact, her mind settling into an ungodly reality.

But like her, Becca was stubborn and determined, not wanting to give up. “Yes.”

Victoria’s gaze shifted up to Finan again, long enough for a swallow.

The thread tying the couple was strong, something she had hoped would never be.

From the Irishman, she looked back at her daughter, worry slowly scribbled across her facial features. “Are you sure about this? Do you understand what this would entail?”

“I am. And, I do.”

She sighed, her shoulders dropping as she knew she had lost the fight. “Then may the gods be with you.” She attempted reaching out, her hand placed on top her Becca’s, the affectionate gesture coming off as green. “Good luck, Rebecca.”

“Thank you, Mum.” She had a sad smile on her face, sported simply across the one corner of her lips.

Her mother grew hesitant, not sure on what to do next until she eventually pushed herself to walk away, giving her daughter one last look, tinted in sorrow, before leaving.

Once gone and the door had closed softly, Becca’s eyes turned back to the urn. It stood tall despite its small size and lightness, as runes were scribbled along the ceramic surface calling for the goddess to all witches.

She was lost in thought, her fingertips tracing the valuable artifact - believed to have disappeared from mortals and witches alike - until she felt Finan standing behind her, his arm around her shoulders as he gently pulled her in, kissing her hairline. “Ya alright?” His tone was low, worrisome.

“She cares…” She was speaking more to herself than anyone else, realization slowly dawning on her.

“Bex, love?” He remained concerned as he squeezed his hold on her, the frown on his face meeting the urn she still held. She lifted her head up, the sweetly nickname bringing her back to him, giving him a small smile of comfort. “I’m fine.”

“Ya sure?”

She nodded, humming in response. She then leaned again him, head against his chest where his warmth soothed her trough the twinge of pain that resided in her.

She felt him press his lips on the top of her head before letting her go. He grabbed the shirt she wore, tugging it his way, a teasing glint in his eyes catching her attention. “Come on, I think I know how to cheer you up.”

She chuckled at his comment, thinking he would be leading them back to the bedroom; he knew where her mind had gone, a playful grin plastered on his face. “Get your mind out of the gutter!”

Laughter had slipped from her tongue as she gave him a light backhand slap against his chest. She placed the urn on her kitchen table before reaching for the fridge, desperate to nibble of her dessert again.

Once the small chocolate pint stood in her hand, she took a seat on her counter with Finan quietly settling between her legs and watched her eat with appetite, a subtle grin capturing his lips.

From a spoonful seeping into her mouth, she lead the utensil towards him, giving him a bite while purposely leaving a trace of the ice cream on the tip of his nose. A low groan escaped his chest at her antics. He leaned in, pushing it back to her as he left his own stain. In response, she only giggled while he kissed her nose before she, herself, wiped away the small mess she left on him.

His hands, resting on her thighs, were stroking her skin tenderly, his mind focused solely on her; she reached for the cross he wore around his neck, her fingers tracing the Celtic patterns silently. His eyes stayed on her, in awe and taking in the features she bore while lost in thought once again.

Her arm stretched out, he reached for it, placing small pecks across her limb until he pulled her to the edge of the counter and went to kiss her lips.

She let him take the lead, her legs tightening around him as she fell into his loving caresses.

And slowly, they turned hungry. Small open mouth kisses traveled to her forehead, down her closed eyelid, and then down to her cheek before reaching her lips again. All the while, she revelled in his touch, loving the way he held on as his hand traipsed to her hair with the other slid under her shirt, his thumb brushing at her flesh.

She whispered sweet nothings to him, begging him with her life to ‘never stop’, to never end the tortuous pleasure he gifted her, to hold on and never let go; she strengthened her grip on him, the scenery shifting to simple wanton desire.

Desperate to give in to her craving, he pulled away, asking her softly with a lustrous voice. “Whatever it is you need to do. Does it have to be done today?”

“No. We don’t have to do anything today.” Her words were honey, sweetly coating his skin as she placed her hands on his cheeks, stroking his beard. He rested his head upon her chest as she curled her arms around his shoulders, her fingertips wandering on his back ever so gently. “Good.”

She felt him smile against her shoulder, leaving her to mimic the sentiment as she closed her eyes, his scent overwhelming her in the sweetest way.

The gleam lingering, she spoke to his ear, earning a low chuckle from his throat. “I would still like to eat as I am a bit peckish.”

“And you would think having such a substantial meal for breakfast would have been enough.” The cheeky tone made her laugh.

“I will not apologize for wanting something cold and sweet after a hot, hot night.” She teased, her fingers grasping a handful of his hair from the back of his head. He reciprocated her tone, taunting her. “Then bring that pint to bed, love.”

He grabbed her, pulling her off the counter. Just as he turned around, wanting to walk away, he slipped and swiftly fell straight on the floor, his back sliding across the cabinet doors. Having been in his arms, she ended on the ground as well, her legs over his as a heavy laugh escaped her lungs.

She resettled on his lap while Finan caught his breath. She placed her fingers under his chin, tilting his head to her. “Are you alright?”

A small smile on his lips, he caught the amused look on her face, making him chuckle lightly. “Yea, I’m fine. Was that funny to you?”

“Very funny.” She giggled once again, the sound slipping with her words, until it eventually died down, pushing herself flush against him. She ran her fingers through his hair, her hand trailing down his cheek. “Are you hurt?”

“No.”

She kissed him sweetly; a pleasurable groan came out of him as a response. “Mhmm, that’s better.” She repeated the gesture, his gentle smile growing wider. He wrapped his arms around her waist, holding her as he laid her down, her back resting on the kitchen rug.

A devilish smirk painted across his face, his eyes met her own as she felt the hem of her shirt pushed up.

A low grumble coming from the back of his throat, he spoke against her lips. “I’m starving, love.”

He nipped at her bottom lip, and felt his teeth against the pulse point on her neck. Her heart raced against her chest, anticipating where he would move next with heightened senses.

Her voice quivered, her words stumbling across her dry throat. “Lunch?”

His chuckle vibrated across her naked stomach, trailing his lips down her body as he looked up to her, the spark in his eyes igniting lustful cravings of his own.

“You read my mind.”

It was the dead of night when they reached their location.

The moon was casting her glow across the field, the couple bathing under her light.

Getting out of the car, they remained quiet as their hearts tremored within their chests, slight fear shadowing their movements.

Finan, closing the door, walked over to her quickly as he reached out for her hand. “Do you need me to come with you?”

“No.” It was softly said with no intended harshness, only simple tenderness.

“Does it really need to be done?”

She could hear the worry in his tone and feel it in his grip, her hand squeezed in slight fright. “I’m at the mercy of the gods, Finn.” She met his gaze, wanting to offer him nothing but attempted comfort. “I need to do this if we want their help.”

He exhaled a shaky breath, bringing her hand to his lips. “I wish you didn’t have to.” The gentlest of kiss, she watched him with renewed conviction.

“I know… I’ll be fine. Just wait for me here, please.” She couldn’t let him see what she needed to do, not wanting him involved in the specifics of the ritual.

He brushed strands of her hair away from her face, his eyes trailing across the couple of primroses that were embedded in her locks. His sight shifting back to her, he sighed once again, calming down the trembling inside him. “Be careful. I beg ya.”

“I will, I promise.”

He kissed her, his lips lingering against her own as he readied himself to let her go. However reluctant, he eventually did and pulled away, his gaze meeting hers once more as his heart ached.

He stood by the car, waiting as she disappeared from his sight, her body meshed within the darkness of the woods.

She held only a flashlight as a guide, her other hand pre-occupied with her wrapped up ingredients. Her steps bringing her further away from prying eyes, she was led to stand by a small stream, the running water creating some melody to the quiet surroundings.

A small altar stood further into the darkness, leaves and vines engorging the stones with the shadow of the moonlight seeping through ever so shyly. It was old in its age though never forgotten. Carved into the stone was the goddess of witchcraft, beautifully designed as if she was here herself; her stature stood tall, her long hair braided twice as they hung by her left and her right, knots hovered above her the way of a halo and at her feet rested her feline, watchful and protective of its owner.

Becca took her place, sitting on her knees, and opened her bag to fetch out her required items.

She started with a small athame, unthreatening in its design though still lethal in its purpose, the small urn her mother had brought her, runes contained in a drawstring pouch, three candles and homemade honey.

And then, hanging around her neck alongside her stone, was the Celtic cross; a piece of Finan.

The moon stood high above the altar, creating the perfect space for her ritual; it was as if the gods knew she was coming.

From the flowers intricately woven into her hair, she also placed a handmade bouquet on the altar, as well as the honey, pouring it into an offering bowl.

At the deity’s feet, previous offerings still lingered all around, making Becca’s seemed trivial.

Looking over her surrounding, taking everything in as she prepared herself to take on the next step, she inhaled deeply and closed her eyes.

Six seconds later, she breathed out, her body slowly relaxing.

Looking down, she picked up the first runes-carved candle and started calling out for the goddess in all her might as she lit up the wick.

To the second candle, one breath later, she repeated the process and called for Freya a second time; light came to be once again.

To the last one, one last breath later, Becca called out Her name again and was ready to light up the candle. Instead, it had done so by itself, on its own volition.

A gentle breeze glided through, its wind waking the leaves. The snow had started to melt with the shift of the seasons, making way for the grass to peak through the white coat.

Sitting up, she brought her hands to her lap, palms up.

Her amulet’s glow grew within the darkness, the purple hue giving purpose to her call.

And then, head up towards the carving, the language of the gods reverberated through her vocal chords, her words chanting and summoning the divine for a favour.

The force of the breeze increased, just a note above its predecessor, Becca’s hair following its dance.

She shut her eyes once more, her spell floating through her with plead. Her blood pumping rapidly through her veins, her magic swirled inside her the way a babe makes its presence known inside the womb.

As a humble servant, she called for balance, for strength, for help; to undo the chaos that had seeped its way through the earth, and to restore peace and heal Mother Nature from the disdain that was caused.

Her voice trembled within her throat, her body quivering from her words.

She reached for her runes, pulling three pieces; the gods were listening.

Becca continued with another breath slipping through her lips.

Dagger in hand, Freya’s urn sat in front of the young witch, its carcass void until soaked with drops of blood.

She then removed her amulet, holding it by its golden chain as it slipped inside the cup.

The Celtic knots had joined the ritual; borrowing Finan’s cross, she offered it to the goddess for a blessing, begging for peace to the owner’s soul. And just like her stone, the cross slipped inside the urn, coated within the witch’s power.

Tears had started their act, staining the corners of her eyes before silently trailing down her flushed cheeks.

An itching started to carve itself on her back, emanating a wail which escaped her with shortened breaths. Her spell interrupted, she could feel her birthmark burning her skin in searing pain, the symbol glowing in ember.

They were testing her willingness to sacrifice, she thought.

She could feel it.

The affliction deepened into her bone. She leaned forward, grasping at the hint of grass as her fingers dug through the earth with the muffled cries dripping through clenched teeth.

She could only push through - and so she did, with her heart racing, the muscle ached from the weight of the ritual.

She picked up wear she left off, calling for the gods once again in supplication.

The wind still alive with fervour, wrapped its arms around her, somehow easing the sting she was imbued with.

And then, for a split of a second, she felt naked - as if her powers had gone into the void and disappeared.

The candles shut off as quiet surrounded her, eerie and deadly.

The pain covering her shoulder blade was dissipating though left a ghostly trace of ichor running down her back.

And then, nature’s voice came back; the water of the stream brushing the rocks, the leaves grazing the trees, the crickets creating their music.

The wind had gone.

It was done.

Catching her breath, she sat back up with her head falling back. Her eyes met the night sky, the stars shining just a little bit brighter above her.

From up above, she then turned her gaze down to her hands, etched in blood, as they rested on her dress.

She remained still for a moment, her mind empty from thoughts while her eyes never left the scarlet stained skirt.

A little sniffle made it through the air, she rubbed her nose with the back of her hand, her cheeks dry from tears.

Flapped wings caught her attention.

Under the dark skies, she lifted her head up to meet a bird perched on a tree branch.

The falcon glanced downwards, its eyesight fixated on Becca; chills ran down her spine.

It then flew down, gravitating towards the god’s shrine where its sharp talons echoed against the stone as it marched towards the bowl full of honey.

A gentle song from its chest, she watched the predator bending over the offering, its eyes staring as its beak hovered above it, the sweet nectar filling its nose with delight.

One dip in, the bird then turned towards the bouquet.

The falcon lingered; between the ambrosia and the flowers, it did not seem offended by such gifts.

Anticipation arose in the pit of her stomach.

The animal then turned to her, tilted head as its sharp eyes stared at her with another song escaping its mouth. It was a gentle coo, melting into the night.

Becca awaited patiently.

Then majestic wings spread wide and far apart, the falcon’s head lifted up, calling at the present constellations; she slightly jumped at the suddenness of its movement, but none the less remained put, still waiting for the final verdict.

The bird, giving its attention back to her, stepped forward with its claws still on the ground. It stood in front of the urn, the head falling to that direction before leaning towards the rim, the beak disappearing inside.

The strings of her amulet and cross came into her sight; attached to its mouth, the falcon dropped both necklaces onto the woman’s lap.

Her sacrifice had been accepted by her god, her connection to Freya established.

It watched her, noticing tears layered across her irises. It gave her one last song, an affectionate coo, before backing away.

It moved to the altar again, pecking at the honey another for taste, before flying away and disappearing into the woods.

Becca stared at the jewelry pieces that covered her hands, her emotions getting the best of her once again.

She silently cried, overwhelmed by the events of her night. Her body growing heavier, she leaned forward until her forehead rested atop the wet grass with her arms wrapped around her stomach. She thanked the goddess, her whispers carried through another wave of gentle breeze, its hands drying her cheeks.

Once she felt well again, once relief was slowly grasping at her bones, she sat up and reached for the water bottle that rested inside her bag. She poured the liquid over her hands and dress, wanting to wash off any signs of the ritual before meeting up with Finan again as she did not want to scare him.

She cleaned her cuts, her stone, his cross, and proceeded to pick up her stuff, leaving the candles, honey and flowers behind.

She then undid her braid, removing the primroses that stood in there, and delicately placed them along side the bouquet.

She took one last moment for herself and got up, ignoring the weakness in her knees.

After almost digging a hole into the ground from his constant pacing, Finan finally saw her come back.

The suspense of waiting finally washing off him like a storm, ease gripped at him as he ran to her. The second she was at arm’s length, he pulled her in and curled his arms around her, nestling his nose into her hair.

And the second she was pressed against his chest, she dropped her bag, her arms instinctively wrapped around his waist, seeking comfort.

“Are ya alright?” He spoke with a soft undertone, the words almost muffled against her head.

“Mhmm.” It was all she could muster. He placed a kiss at the top of her head before pulling away slowly, wanting to look at her properly. “Is it done then?”

She nodded, exhausted.

“The empowerment ritual worked. All we have to do is wait for the call.” Her arms fell by the sides of her body as she offered him a tired smile. “She will let us know when it is time.”

Without a word, he leaned forward and pressed his forehead against hers. Heavy breaths out from his lungs, his thoughts were rapidly racing.

She felt the tension in his shoulders, the frown upon his brows. She did not move and only spoke, her voice low within his breath. “What are you thinking about? What’s on your mind?”

He took a moment before answering her. “You… You’re on my mind.” He broke the embrace, wanting to look at her again. The worry was palpable, tingling at her fingertips as they ran through his hair before settling across his jawline, stroking his beard. “She’ll find us out, won’t she?”

Becca nodded, her hues glued to his own; she could never tire of his eyes, of their emotional depth. “She will, and to be honest, I don’t care.” She quickly kept going, having seen his lips pursed to speak up. “They accepted my offering, Finn. I’m in.”

Sadness still rested in his brown’s, breaking her heart. She slid her arms to rest around his neck, brushing his nose with hers. She spoke softly. “Trust me. Have faith in me.”

“I do, Bex.” He kissed her, a simple stroke of his lips against hers. “I just don’t want all of this to take you away from me.”

Her doubts were crawling back into her mind, small whispers blowing through the wind, taunting her unworthiness to the cause. Day and night they haunted her, but after tonight, she had hoped they would vacate and vanish into thin air.

Another stroke of lips to lips, she lingered into him, tightening her hold around his neck as she felt his fingers digging into her waist, desperate.

Same as her.

And so she reluctantly pulled away, her hands trailing down to rest on his chest. Heartache in her stare, she looked up at him, her emotions seeping through her voice. “I know. And I don’t want all of this to take you away from me either.”

“God, I love you.” He kissed her once more, the caress harsher and held with anguish as he clung to her.

She fell into his embrace, her knees buckling under the weight of the world. Her fingers grasped onto the fabric of his jacket, knuckles whitened at her strength. With a hint of despair, the melancholic feeling crippling her, she whispered her own declaration, her own feelings for him pouring out of her. “I love you too.”

He pulled away, his thumb tracing over her swollen lips. “I know ya tell me not to be worried. But I can’t help it… What if it’s not enough?”

She smiled at him, a simple and small upward curve from her left side. “Then I’ll find another way.” She was pushing through her fear - for him. “I’ll do whatever it takes. I’m not giving up.”

A moment of silence hugged them close. His eyes trailed from her own, down to her lips before settling over her amulet, the purple stone remaining in the dark without its glow, coupled with his cross.

He smiled.

“It suits you.”

She reached for the lace of the necklace and pulled it off, the golden crucifix shimmering under the moonlight.

“I like it better on you.” She placed the item around his neck, the cross resting on top of shirt.

He kissed her forehead once again, both of them ready to leave and head back to the cottage.

Stepping back to the car, she stopped herself at the ghostly sound tickling her ears. She peered around her, not seeing anything despite the haunting calls.

Furrowed brows, she turned her head back to Finan. “Are you hearing this?”

“Hearing what, love?”

She tried to decipher the noise, her eyes searching all around; her arm stretched towards him, she was reaching for him out of instinct. He quickly came to her, holding her hand while she remained elsewhere, her focus devoted to the faint calls.

A slight gasp escaped her.

“A babe, I think? I thought I heard a child…”

Finan looked around as well, confused. “There is no one but us.”

She shook the sound away, giving her notice back to the present as she started walking.

But once again, she stopped; a crinkle, a crunch of steps upon leaves pulled her away. Her hand still holding on to Finan’s, her halt echoed to him. He turned to see her back at him, her sight facing the woods.

A pair of golden flecks caught her attention. She stared into them until the figure came out of the shadows.

A wolf was staring at her, a mother with her cub. Her heart stopped, the colour of her cheeks draining.

How could she have known that her spell had summoned the animal, the distant call having been carried by the wind across the forrest? She stood still, forgetting for a moment where she was; Finan noticed, giving him worry. “Bex?”

She could not hear him, her focus solely placed on the gentle beast.

The cub, playful in its small size, was running between its mother’s legs and nibbling at her paws, her fur, anything to attract her attention. The longer Becca stared between both wolves, she could feel her heart starting to pick up its pace, racing against her chest as her breath was unable to leave her lungs.

“Becca?” Finan tried to follow her stare but saw nothing but void.

Only when he squeezed her hand, did she seem to have propelled back into reality. “Is everything okay? What were you staring at?”

Her eyes had remained on the mother, until the wolf nodded her way and disappeared with her babe in toe.

They held many meanings, representing two sides of the same coin. The question was, which side would befall on the witch and her lover?

“N-Nothing.” She turned back to him, shaking off the ill feeling creeping on her back. She placed her free hand on her stomach, swallowing the burdening nausea that left her perturbed.

Meeting Finan’s gaze, she gave him a reassuring smile, desperate to leave.

“Let’s go home.”

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

a/n: for those who watched BTVS S6E01 (Bargaining), the urn described in the chapter is pretty much based on that one :)

xoxo,

@fangirlninja67, @gemini-mama

#the last kingdom #finan #finan x oc #tlk fanfic #finan fanfic #finan the agile #tlk #mark rowley #finan fic #tlk fic #the last kingdom fanfic #Photo by Ksenia Yakovleva on Unsplash #the last kingdom fic #finan x ofc

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kiwiana-writes · 10 months

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Kiwiana's Christmas Fics

@stereopticons tagged me to share my Christmas/holiday fics and uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh I'm not sure how I feel about this list 🤣 I am a HUGE Christmas person... in the southern hemisphere, so I’m super out of my depth writing Christmas fics for most fandoms because winter Christmas just feels so fundamentally wrong to me. (I've done it exactly once, in 2019 with family, and I felt like I was in a Hallmark film.) Which does result in the Schitt's Creek list being... well, interesting.

Let's go.

Red, White & Royal Blue

All Those Christmas Clichés [Alex/Henry; rated M (subject to change); WIP (advent fic, daily triple drabbles Dec 1-25)]

Daily triple drabbles: snapshots of the lead-up to Christmas 2023.

Schitt's Creek

I see every part of you [David/Patrick; rated M; 1,514 words]

Patrick is a straight-up aficionado when it comes to giving gifts. David has known this from literally day one of their relationship, when he pulled a bunch of tissue paper out of a blue gift bag, looked away from a sentimental receipt in a solid frame and into a pair of earnest eyes, and thought, 'I hate it when Stevie’s right.'

How the reindeer loved him [David/Patrick; rated E; 2,178 words]

David wraps an arm around him, hand splayed across his chest to pull him close. “Tell me,” he says quietly. “I want you to dress up as Santa,” Patrick rushes out in one quick breath.

This is all I'm asking for [David/Patrick; rated E; 3,957 words]

But by the time they clean up after the party, and Patrick tactfully offers to take the garbage bags out to the shed to give the Roses a bit of family time, it’s well after eleven and David can only assume all their plans for the evening are out the window. That is, until they turn out of the motel parking lot and instead of Patrick putting his hand on David’s knee like usual it lands halfway up his thigh, fingers tracing absent circles around his inseam, and David realises that at least one part of the plan is still very much on the table.

Dear Santa... [Gen: David, Alexis, Patrick; rated G; 2,191 words]

Letters to Santa, 1987-1997

Do you wanna fuck a snowman? [David/Patrick; rated E; 7,216 words; co-write with @ships-to-sail]

David mimics her stance — and he has to admit, she’s not entirely wrong. In the quickly disappearing light, already blurred a little bit by the still-fallen snow, the snowman does look a little like he has tree trunk thighs and a well-formed ass, rather than being Frosty-shaped. But it’s the best they’re going to do, and David’s toes are officially cold.

I need some Christmas spirit [David/Patrick; rated T; 626 words]

David can handle his alcohol, is the thing. So no, it doesn’t occur to Patrick to warn him.

It probably should have.

Happiest Season

We always walked a very thin line [Abby/Riley, Harper/Abby; rated T; 2,775 words]

The girlfriend — Abby — stumbles over a lie about being Harper's orphan roommate, which… wow. Girl is a bad liar. Riley kind of wants to take her by the hand and tell her she’s going to have to get a lot better at that particular skill if she’s going to be in a relationship with Harper Caldwell. She doesn’t though, because it’s not her place and because who knows what, if anything, Harper has told Abby about her?

#kiwiana-writes #rwrb fic #schitt’s creek fic #happiest season fic

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silverzoomies · 10 months

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I’m so curious to see who you’d ship me with because I completely trust your judgement… so here goes nothing. 🌸💐🌷

-I’m a 23 year old female who’s currently in college for criminal justice and psychology. I’m awful at math but love love love science.

-I love animals, I have lots of snakes, lizards, fish, dogs, cats. I’m not opposed to anything besides spiders

-I love listening to music and my favorite artists are Taylor swift, Hozier, P!nk, and Kelly Clarkson. I like to think I’m a creative person but idk. I like to craft and scrapbook, make jewelry etc.

-im a perfectionist and if Im not instantly good at something I get very frustrated.

-I also have depression (yay) anxiety, autism, and possible ADD. People have told me I’m good at ‘hiding’ it and ‘fitting in’ though.

-im super shy in real life. Like beyond shy. Im not a fan of physical touch but if it was someone I really liked, I wouldn’t mind. My love language is gift giving.

-I like to cook, I play piano and guitar, and I like to go on a lot of spontaneous adventures because if my mind comes up with an idea I have to play it out that moment or I go insane.

-im pretty good at adjusting to any environment and tend to mimic people to fit in. I like to people watch and kind of mirror their personality and actions.

-winter is my favorite season and Halloween is my favorite holiday. I’d say I’m a pretty morbid person by societies standards. Like animals in jars and black clothes… listening to true crime podcasts to fall asleep. Stuff like that. I’m kind of goth, I’d say? I also love makeup and rarely leave the house without it on

oh...oh my gosh...ohohohohoh buckle up, my good buddy pal,, i've got a super fun one for you !!! i'm gonna put a read more, since this one's kinda long !! you gave me a lot of detail to work with !!

✧❁❁✧✿✿✧❁❁✧🧡💛📚🧡💛✧❁❁✧✿✿✧❁❁✧

right off the bat, you talk about studying criminal justice and psychology. which are very respectable fields of education. it sounds to me like you're really takin' your education seriously !! and that's wonderful !! y'know...that kinda reminds me of a certain boy...

so, y'know who also takes his education pretty seriously? a guy who wants to change the world for the better? i'm def thinkin' of pre-death kyle for you. sorry. SORRY, OKAY !! i know what you're thinkin'...oh, zoomies, you're only saying this because i've got kyle in my url. ABSOLUTELY NOT !!

you make yourself out to be such a genuine sweetheart with a wide range of interests !! you're creative and down to earth - both of which are traits i think kyle would absolutely swoon over !! you treat animals with kindness, and you love every single one. c'mon...doesn't he seem like the same ?? if you showed him the super gnarly pets you have, i know for a gosh dang fact he'd think they're the coolest ever !!

mans unapologetically loves music. dude was so open about how much he liked toto. based btw. i can totally see him vibin' to your favorite tunes too. bobbin' his head, singin' along. no matter how feminine the songs seem, he really wouldn't care !! he'd have fun with 'em anyway !!

i think he wouldn't want you to hide how you feel, or mask yourself for the sake of fitting in. he likes you for your genuine self. the creative person you are, with all your talents - writing, music, cooking, making jewelry. he'd want you to be yourself openly and freely. and he'd be super patient and encouraging about it too !! kyle's a sweetheart !! you put two sweethearts together ?? recipe for love !! 💛🧡❤️

#txt #asks #frankenkyle19 #adore and love you always btw !!

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nekoannie-chan · 2 years

Text

First family Christmas

Pairing: Steve Rogers X Reader.

Word count: 569 words.

Summary: You and Steve celebrate your first Christmas together.

Warnings: Reader maybe is little grumpy at the beginning.

A/N: This is my entry to @ghostofskywalker MXRFF’s Holiday Prompt Challenge with the prompts #6, #15 & #16:

"Tree, decorations & gifts."

@saiyanprincessswanie

My native language is Spanish so I wanna improve my writing skills in English if you notice any mistakes, please let me know and I will correct them.

I don’t give any kind of permission that my fics to be posted on other platforms or languages (I translate myself my work) or the use of my graphics (my dividers are included in this), I did them exclusively for my fics, please respect my work and don't steal it. There are some people here who make dividers that anyone can use, mine is not this type, please look for the other's people. The only exception is the ones I gifted 'cuz now belong to someone else. If you find any of my works on a different platform and are not one of my accounts, please let me know. Reblogs and comments are always welcome.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Marvel's characters (unfortunately), except for the original characters and the story.

Add yourself to my taglist here.

My other media where I publish: Ao3, Wattpad, ffnet, TikTok, Instagram, Twitter.

If you like it, please vote, comment, and give me feedback to improve my skills and reblog.

Tags: @sinceimetyou @unnuevosoltransformalarealidad @navybrat817 @angrythingstarlight @shield-agent78 @charmed-asylum @pandaxnienke @real-fbi @smokeandnailz @white-wolf1940 @tenaciousperfectionunknown @xoxonotme @bluemusickid @leyannrae @harrysthiccthighss @marvelatthisone @hallecarey1 @sapphire-rogers @lizzieolseniskinda @notyourtypicalrose @hallecarey1 @nana1000night @talia-rumlow @writingshae @alexxavicry @azulatodoryuga

As soon as you woke up, you saw the calendar. It was time to decorate the house for the Christmas season, but you had nothing to decorate it with—not after your house had been destroyed in a surprise attack by Hydra, believing Steve was there.

It was also the first time you were going to celebrate as husband and wife; you had barely been married six months.

You started to write down the things to buy, but what worried you the most was not finding the ideal things; you had such a hard time finding the ones you had, and now you were gone.

Steve came into the kitchen, said good morning, and kissed you on the head.

"Is something wrong? You are very serious," Steve asked, slightly concerned; perhaps he had forgotten something; he began to recall; he had put the laundry in the hamper and purchased food for Pumpkin and Fluffy, your dog and cat; there was no reason for you to be upset with him.

"I don't know what I'm missing on the list; we have to buy things to celebrate the season."

"Maybe if you read it, it might help you." Steve was relieved; at least he didn't forget something important, and above all, you weren't mad at him and he wouldn't sleep on the couch.

"A tree, decorations, and, of course, you mustn't forget the most important thing: gifts."

"Dinner? Cookies?"

"We have to go to the store," you said.

"Y/N, before we go, everything is fine between us, right?" Steve tried not to sound nervous, but he'd seen you angry a few times before, and he was honestly more afraid of you in that state than he was of facing Hydra all alone.

"If he is, why wouldn't he be?" You frowned, confused.

"Nothing else... I just... I'll wait for you in the car; you're absolutely right, we urgently need all the stuff for us to decorate. Steve left immediately.

You made a gesture; you didn't understand what was wrong with him; he probably already realized that Pumpkin had destroyed the sneakers he bought a month before; you went for your bag.

Steve was wondering if he was dreaming or maybe he had fallen into a trap; he could not believe how far he had walked and that you only had two decorations bought, which were some gingerbread doll spheres and some stars. There were still a lot of things missing.

"Come on, Y/N, we have gone through twelve different stores; it can't be that difficult."

"We've been to ten stores, and we'll keep going until we find the perfect tree; all of the ones we've seen look like dead branches," you interrupted him, a little upset.

"We'll go to the necessary ones," Steve said, definitely not wanting to sleep on the couch; last time, he had back pain for a whole week.

After store number twenty, Steve lost count. The only good thing was that he had already found what he was going to give you; even though he wasn't sure if you already had everything, he noticed you were having a great time, so it was worth what you were doing.

It took you the whole day to decorate the entire house, but you were happy with the result.

At the end of the day, you were sitting on the couch, watching a movie while drinking hot cocoa.

#mxrffholiday22 #steve rogers x reader #Steve Rogers #steve rogers fanfic #steve #steve rogers fic

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maddieautobot273 · 10 months

Text

Silk & Cologne - Christmas Special (1)

Title: All I Want For Christmas Is You - link to AO3 (X)

Chapter 1/10 - Seasons Greetings

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x Female OC

Words: 2.3K+

Summary: It's the holiday season, and after a very convincing video message from Miles, Lisa, Miguel and the rest of the Spider-gang decide to spend the holidays at Aunt May's cottage in Buffalo. But slowly things start to go horribly, and magically, wrong, and Lisa becomes worried the perfect Spider-Christmas could be ruined. All she wants for Christmas is to spend it with her Spider-Family, especially Miguel.

////////

“Is this thing on? Okay, okay, we’re rolling!”

Miles Morales backs away as the camera of his phone records him standing close to Aunt May, an arm wrapped around her shoulder. There’s a wide smile on his face as the both of them appear to be outside in the snow, dressed comfortably for the weather.

“Happy Holidays everyone! I know this is a bit of short notice with Christmas being a few weeks away, but I’m over visiting Aunt May for the weekend and she gave me the coolest idea! We’re over at her family’s cottage manor in Buffalo helping her move some stuff and we were thinking. . . why not invite you guys over here for Christmas? The entire weekend, we can all just hang out here! We can hang out, watch some holiday films, make and eat awesome food, and even open and exchange gifts!”

Aunt May chuckles at the boy's excitement. Miles was literally acting like a kid on Christmas. It was honestly the most adorable thing Lisa had ever seen. She leaned back in her seat, watching the video message.

“Again, it’s short notice, but there’s plenty of room for everyone in the gang to come down. Even superheroes could use a break for the holidays, you know? I’ll text everyone the address and just RSVP if you can make it! I know ya’ll want to! Laterz!”

The video message ends with Miles giving Aunt May bunny ears and she laughs at his antics. Lisa chuckles softly at the end card, snuggled in her blanket on the couch in the apartment. Though it was originally Miguel’s apartment, he has since decreed it was their apartment ever since Lisa moved in with him just 6 months ago.

The pair had talked things over and things were going really well after dating for just over two years. So much so that Miguel brought up the idea of them moving in together. He had been such a saint with helping her move in and adjust, making any accommodations and changes if needed.

Lisa loved Christmas, and especially loved decorating for it. She thought Miguel would have a heart attack at the idea of decorating, at least to the level that Lisa wanted, so they compromised and Lisa even brought Miguel along with her while shopping so he could pick out decorations and lights that he’d like. The one downside about his spider-powers was being sensitive to harsh lights, so unfortunately you can't use certain holiday gizmos.

The entire living space was decked out and decorated for the holiday season, complete with a tree with some presents already underneath waiting to be opened. A good mix of holiday cheer and calm modern aesthetic, it was really beginning to look a lot like Christmas. This was their first major holiday together under the same roof.

The ultimate relationship test.

Lisa scrolled through the group chat. It seemed the rest of the Spider gang were on board with the idea. Even Jess, who looked like her baby was due in a matter of weeks, which meant Lisa and Miguel were the only ones that hadn’t responded. Would Miguel want to go?

Keys rattling caught her ear as she glanced over in the direction to the front door of the apartment. Miguel stepped through the doorway and shut it behind him, his coat slightly damp from the flurry of snowflakes falling from the sky outside. “Mi amor, I’m home,” He announced, his voice warmer than any fire roaring in a fireplace. - My love

Lisa smiled sweetly as she shoved the blanket off of her, sitting up as she walked over to meet with Miguel. “Hi honey,” Her voice was sweet as honey before she gently cupped his face, pressing a kiss to his lips.

“Shock, you’re so warm. . .” Miguel smiled into it, humming in delight as his hands wrapped around her waist. “I’m not late am I? Traffic coming home was awful. I swear, half of the people in this city don’t know how to drive in the snow,”

“You’re fine, Miguel, we’re not meeting Gabriel and Dana for dinner for another hour or so,” Lisa reassured him, helping him take his coat off. “You have time to shower and clean up,”

Miguel sighed in relief, “Thank you mi Mona Lisa,” Shaking off the chill from outside, Miguel tossed his keys on the counter as he sauntered down the hall, crossing the living room towards their master bedroom to use their shower when he glanced over and saw the Christmas tree. “Hey, you finished decorating it!”

“Just a few minutes ago, yes!” Lisa smiled proudly, admiring her work with the assortment of lights, ornaments and streamers. “I saved the star for you,”

“You are a gem,” Miguel smiled at her as he undid his tie, “Pass it over,”

With a bright smile on her face, Lisa reached for the star and brought it over to Miguel who met her half way as they both stood before the tree. Taking the star from her delicate hand, Miguel reached up and put the star on top of the tree. It starts lighting up, matching the glow of the other lights on the tree.

“Now it’s complete!” She beamed.

“You are so adorable,” Miguel chuckled softly as he wrapped an arm around Lisa’s shoulders, kissing her temple before looking up to admire the tree. “It looks wonderful, Lisa. You’re actually getting me into the Christmas spirit,”

“You never did before you met me?” Lisa asked him with a genuine curiosity.

“I mean, sure, Gabriel and I would plan little get-togethers here and there over the years, but,” Miguel brushed off the question initially, shaking his head before he glanced down at her with a soft smile, a glimmer in his eyes. “I just have a good feeling about this year is all,”

“Our first Christmas together,” Lisa smiled back at him, gently cupping his face that was now finally starting to warm up from the harsh cold weather outside. “We’re going to have so much fun, I promise!”

“I don’t doubt you for a second,” Miguel grinned, holding her close. “I can start to picture it now. Waking up on Christmas morning with you in my arms, oh, I can’t wait to see the look on your face when you open your gifts,”

“As am I with you opening yours,” Lisa matched the twinkle in his eyes before patting his chest, gently shoving him away. “Now go shower and get ready, guapo,” - handsome

“Yes ma’am,” Miguel smirked as he pecked her lips before pulling away, making his way into the master bedroom. He stripped himself of his clothes as he walked into the bathroom, leaving a trail of clothes behind as he turned the water on. “Oh, before I forget! I actually have some news!”

“Really?” Lisa exclaimed, both at his announcement and at the sight of his clothes left on the floor. She rolled her eyes before picking them up and throwing them in the laundry hamper. “I actually have some news of my own too,”

“Care to share?” He called out from the bathroom.

“You go first,” She smiled over her shoulder as Lisa opened their closet and rummaged through his clothes, picking out an outfit for him.

“Remember that business trip I was telling you about? The conference with some other companies that partner with Alchemax?” He asked her.

“Yeah, I remember you mentioning it the other week,” Lisa recalled as the conversation replayed in her head as she laid out Miguel’s clothes on the bed. “It’s in Washington D.C. I think. You said your co-worker was going, right? Oscar?”

“That’s the thing,” Miguel huffed, steam beginning to build up in the bathroom. “Oscar caught a bad case of food poisoning earlier today. Had to go to the emergency room,”

“Oh gosh!” Lisa’s eyes widened at the realization. Food poisoning was never fun. “Is he going to be okay?”

“Thankfully, yeah, but the poor guy is like a zombie so he can’t go on the trip anymore,” Miguel finished rinsing off as he shut the water off. Lisa could hear him shuffling around for a towel as he dried off before stepping back into the bedroom, towel wrapped around his waist. “Meaning. . . the board has asked me to take his place,”

“Wait, really?” Lisa shot up, gasping as she covered her mouth.

“Turns out I was their runner-up,” Miguel shrugged casually, but there was a prideful grin on his face as he approached Lisa, his well-toned, heroic body bare for all to see. “They were really impressed with my report from our last big project,”

“Oh, Miguel, that's wonderful news!” Lisa smiled brightly as she jumped up and hugged him, squeezing Miguel as she wrapped her arms around his neck. “That’s what I call a Christmas miracle,”

“It is!” Miguel chuckled softly as he returned the embrace before pulling away, his smile lowering. “But the trip is pretty close to the holiday. . .”

“It’s one week before Christmas right?” Lisa asked him as she handed Miguel his pants and underwear.

“Uh, actually. . .” Miguel took the clothes and sat down, slipping his towel off as Lisa stepped around the bed to give Miguel a moment of privacy as she straightened his shirt. “They moved the date,”

“What? To when?” Lisa asked him as she tilted her head up to look at his backside.

And what a backside that was~

“Um. . .” Lisa could see Miguel’s skin heat up as he turned to look at her, his cheeks red. “I fly back on Christmas Eve. . .”

“You’re kidding?!” Lisa shot up.

“There’s a storm coming in the area the week the conference was supposed to be held so they pushed it back,” Miguel rubbed the back of his neck nervously before tugging up his pants, sitting up. “The conference ends on the day before and I managed to book the first flight out back to the city that I could find, a lot of flights are booked already,”

Lisa sighed, glancing up at him as she picked up his shirt. “That’s holiday travel for you,”

“Hey,” Miguel spoke up as he stalked around the bed, gently taking the shirt off Lisa’s hands, talking as he slipped it on. “I know it might not be the first big Christmas holiday together that we wanted, but we’ll make it work. I’ll make it work,”

Lisa crossed her arms over her chest, a worried look on her face as she seemed unconvinced.

“Let me put it like this,” Miguel offered her a smile as he buttoned up his shirt, and took his sweet time doing it. “I’ll finish my Christmas shopping and send them back over before I leave. Then when I do get back home, we’ll have a romantic candlelight dinner, cuddle up in those cute matching PJ’s you got us–”

“How did you find them?!” Lisa gawked. “I was saving them for Christmas morning!”

Miguel laughed at her reaction. “Just be thankful I haven’t spoiled and found out what you got me for actual gifts,” he winked.

Lisa huffed, although she couldn’t help but grin when Miguel reached a hand out, delicately taking her chin and pulled her closer to him.

“Maybe I’ll get too excited and can’t wait until morning and give you a few of my gifts,” He smirked, the look he gave her sending a chill down Lisa’s spine. “Let’s just say for one of them, Santa Claus can’t exactly wrap it,”

Lisa’s cheeks flushed, her eyes widening as Miguel’s lips brushed against hers in a teasing, yet tender kiss. “Okay. . .” Her smile curled, her expression turning goofy like a cartoon character. “You promise you’ll make it back in time?”

“I promise, mi amor,” He smiled gently. - my love

“Fine. I suppose Nueva York can survive with just one Spider hero to protect it for a while,” Lisa smirked as she rolled her eyes playfully. “The city had you long before I came along,”

Miguel chuckled at her response before pecking her lips, pulling away shortly after. Reaching for his sweater on the bed, he slipped it over top of his shirt. “Now, I shared my news. what was it you wanted to tell me?”

Lisa got so lost in Miguel’s dreamy, enchanting gaze that she nearly forgot about Mile’s invitation. Her pupils went wide as the light bulb literally switched on in her head. “Oh yeah!”

She was starting to get nervous. Since Miguel poured his heart out on this plan of his, would he even be willing to even consider this idea? After all, they both initially had their hearts set on spending their first Christmas together just the two of them, in the comfort of their own home.

Lisa pulled out her cell phone, bringing up the group chat and Mile’s video message. “Well, I received a holiday greeting from Miles and Aunt May,”

“Oh, really?” Miguel’s eyes lit up, both from happiness that their fellow Spider and family friend would think of them and curiosity as he stepped around to look at the phone screen. “What did they say?”

Lisa figured the video would speak for itself, so she pressed play. Miguel watched the video, a playful grin on his face at Miles’ antics. When he heard his offer about the spider gang coming over to the manor for Christmas, Lisa could see the look on Miguel’s face shift, looking surprised.

The gears in his head were turning after the video was done. Miguel seemed to hesitate briefly, gathering his thoughts as he looked over to Lisa, “Would you like to go?”

Lisa’s heart fluttered, skipping a beat. “You really mean that? I mean, absolutely we can stay and spend Christmas here if that’s what you want. I value your opinion, Miguel, so I wanted to ask. . .”

Miguel’s smile was loving and laced with care as he looked down at Lisa, wrapping an arm around her as he held her close. “I appreciate that, Lisa. If I’m being honest. . .” His smile curled into a grin, his eyes twinkling. “It does look kind of fun,”

/////

Have a happy holidays!

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midwinterrmemento · 2 years

Text

An Uncanny Resemblance

➢ pairing: Silvio Ricci x MC/Emma [Ikemen Prince]

➢ prompt: Forced to wear an ugly Christmas sweater

➢ word count: 1,950

⚠️ content warnings: minor language and slightly suggestive content towards the end, otherwise it’s just tooth-rotting fluff

This is my first time writing for the Cybird games, but I read the list of prompts for @xxsycamore and @voltage-vixen’s ‘Tis the Season for Love challenge and it gave me Ideas™ so I hope you don’t mind me joining in! It's super self-indulgent since I'm currently experiencing Silvio brainrot, but thank you both for giving me an excuse to try writing for IkePri and to embarrass him the way he deserves. Happy holidays :)

Silvio took a long look at the sweater laid out in front of him, feeling his nose involuntarily crinkle up in disdain.

Christmas was as lavish a celebration as any other in Benitoite, so every year the prince was used to receiving gifts of the highest—and most expensive—quality from nobles and foreign merchants looking to gain favor with the royal family. He had admired some gifts before, sure, but he couldn’t remember ever being so astonished by one. Nothing had ever left him as speechless as this… nauseatingly colorful heap of wool.

The very thought sent another wave of frustration through him.

Damn it, why should this be the thing that finally gets to him? And what sentimental value could that woman possibly find in it?

He could still see the look on Emma’s face when she came up to him in his study, the way her eyes were sparkling with anticipation as she presented him with the sweater. She’d admitted herself that it was ugly, but according to her, that was supposed to be the charm of it. Apparently it was a tradition in her country to cozy up during the holidays with an ugly festive sweater. So much for Rhodolite being the land of refinery, he’d thought dryly, but held his tongue.

Or, at least, he meant to hold his tongue, but then she said something about how it reminded her of him and he just couldn’t withhold his indignation at that. The moment he snapped at her, however, he regretted it immediately, watching her face fall.

But why would she be so hurt that he was insulted, anyway? She wasn’t expecting him to be flattered, was she?

He knew perfectly well that Emma saw the world differently than he did, and on some level he’d already accepted that he might never understand her completely, but that didn’t mean he would give up trying. It made him deeply uncomfortable to watch her and that damn dog giggling together over the sweater without being able to understand what they were going on about (that damn dog, who was all too quick to agree that oh yes, it looks just like him, though whether he was trying more to appease Emma or insult Silvio was anyone’s guess). As he scrutinized the sweater now, he searched for anything they could possibly see that he couldn’t.

Roughly knitted into the center was a little humanlike blob in a red suit, sitting on something green. It appeared to be Santa in his sleigh, which was being pulled by what was definitely not a reindeer, although he couldn’t quite tell what it was supposed to be. A dog, maybe? It had four legs, at least… and it was white with black spots... and if that part there was meant to be its face, then it looked somehow smug and self-satisfied, with a lopsided half-smirk.

It didn’t look like him at all. Emma was just crazy, and the design made no sense, and it was a sorry excuse for proper craftsmanship. He’d have to go find whatever merchant she bought it from and get her money back.

But still... he couldn’t stand knowing that he’d made her upset.

Emma looked so dejected when he refused to take the sweater from her, pushing it away when she held it out to him. He’d insisted that she take the sweater and the damn dog and leave him alone, because he was busy and he had no time to waste on something so childish. If only he’d known that this was actually important to her, maybe he would’ve been more careful about what he said. The truth is, he wasn’t offended, he was just confused and embarrassed to be given such a gift in front of the dog. He never actually meant to hurt her feelings.

In fact, he had no idea how much he did hurt her feelings until the dog came knocking on his door later, shoving the sweater back into his arms and angrily demanding that he go apologize to his mistress.

Apologizing was never Silvio’s style. But, well… maybe there was something else he could do to make it up to her.

He gingerly picked up the sweater, holding it at arm’s length like he expected to catch a disease from it. To his dismay, as he stood there with it awkwardly, he could feel his cheeks starting to burn in that telltale way. He had to ask himself again, why was this such a big deal? He was someone who had survived the roughest journeys at sea imaginable. He��d been everywhere and seen everything, and his presence alone was enough to command a room, no matter where he was. If he could do all that, then he could at least put on a stupid sweater.

Before he could change his mind, Silvio cussed under his breath and tossed his shirt to the side. Yanking the sweater over his head, he tried to ignore his discomfort at its scratchiness as he pulled it down to cover his body. He smoothed down his hair, which had been ruffled up in the process, and adjusted the sweater a little bit, finding it itchy and roomy and—oh, well, actually... it was warm enough, at least. He tugged at the sleeves, rubbing the fabric through his fingers to test the quality.

Well... it wasn’t terrible. That much he could admit.

But when he turned towards his mirror, any semblance of appreciation he might’ve felt vanished immediately at the sight of his reflection—himself swimming in a frumpy, oversized sweater, the long sleeves dangling down past his hands. His hair was frizzy, standing up in all directions from the static. His face was still red, and the more he looked, the more it deepened until it seemed to match the exact shade of the sweater itself.

If he didn’t know better, he’d even say that the doglike creature in the middle was looking at him with that smug smirk.

Hell no. Screw this.

Silvio tore his eyes away from his reflection and began fumbling around, clumsily trying to pull his arms out of the sleeves so he could get this thing off him already. Emma would just have to get over it on her own, because no way was he going to let her see him like this.

But then, at the worst possible moment—

“Silvio?” A knock on the door. “Are you here?”

—karma struck, and the prince was frozen in the middle of trying to remove the sweater when the door opened and Emma poked her head inside the room.

“I just wanted to...”

Whatever she was about to say, she trailed off abruptly when she caught sight of him, her eyes widening. For a second, they only stared at each other in shocked silence. Silvio was the first to snap out of it.

“You’re supposed to wait for an answer before you come in, woman.” His voice came out too flustered for his liking. Suddenly remembering how red his face was, he spun around to turn his back to her, muttering a stream of profanities as he continued to wrestle with the sweater. “Damn it... Are you just gonna stand there or what? Close the door!”

He heard the door shut quickly, and for a second he was relieved that she was merciful enough to make sure no one else saw this. But then she began to do the only thing that could make this even more humiliating.

“Hey—don’t laugh at me!”

She was obviously trying to hold in her string of giggles, but somehow that made it even worse. Giving up trying to rip off the sweater, he turned back to face her with an exasperated sigh, the empty sleeves swinging around in the process.

“I’m serious!”

But oh, the sight of Emma smiling sweetly, eyes glimmering with delight as she tried to cover her laughter with her hand. Seeing her like that, he could almost forget about his embarrassment for a moment. But then she was crossing the room over to him, and his guard was back up again.

“Sorry,” she managed, though she didn’t sound sorry at all as she continued to giggle. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing. And you didn’t see anything, either, got it?”

“Well, I did see something.”

“You—hey—”

“I saw my fiancé trying to make me smile, right?” Once she was close enough, she leaned up and pressed a kiss to his bright red cheek, and Silvio was stunned into silence by the adoring look on her face when she pulled back. “Or were you just trying on the sweater because you love it that much?”

He glared at her, but she only smiled back at him softly, understanding his silence as enough of an answer. “Silvio... thank you.”

“...You’re a weird woman. This kind of thing impresses you, seriously?”

“You did it anyway.”

“Yeah, I did. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to wear this thing in front of anyone else, you hear me?” Silvio pointed his finger at her for emphasis, forgetting that his arms were still inside the sweater, so the action was hardly noticeable. “And you better not tell that damn dog, either.”

Emma smiled, shaking her head. “All right. But Rio will probably come looking for me soon, so you should hurry and take it off if you don’t want him to see.”

“Then help me out already, will you? This thing’s like a wool prison.”

Emma reached up and helped him tug the collar of the sweater over his head, the rest of it quickly following suit with her guidance. She didn’t realize until too late that he wasn’t wearing anything underneath and flushed when she suddenly found herself face-to-face with a shirtless Silvio, who tossed the sweater onto the bed with a sigh. The moment he glanced back at her, saw her expression, and realized what was happening, though—

“Hm. Not laughing anymore, huh?”

The smirk that graced his features was undeniably gorgeous, and Emma had to admit that she was glad to see his confidence restored, as endearing as it was when he was flustered. She didn’t even have time to be amazed at how quickly their roles had flipped before Silvio’s hand was around her waist, pulling her closer to him.

When his lips landed on hers, their kiss was full of its usual heat, but this time there was something else, too—gratitude. On Emma’s part, because Silvio had swallowed his pride to take part in a tradition from her homeland and cheer her up. And on Silvio’s part, because Emma was the only woman in the world who could catch him looking so foolish and love him even more because of it. Besides, she was the only woman in the world he would risk looking so foolish for, anyway.

“Ah, wait, Silvio—” Emma broke the kiss not without reluctance, her face now as red as his as she looked away embarrassedly. “Really, Rio will be here any second. You need to get dressed.”

“Fine. Hand me that shirt over there.” Silvio’s smirk only stretched across his face, pleased that he was able to get such a reaction out of her so easily. “We’ll continue this later.”

He chuckled at the way her blush deepened at that last remark. As Emma scrambled to grab the shirt, trying to hide her flustered face from him, he turned slightly to cast one more glance at the sweater lying in a heap on his bed, still oblivious to any resemblance he shared with it but inexplicably satisfied when his eyes landed on that little knit dog.

That’s right. Who’s smirking at who now, fido?

#I don't know if I like how this turned out but I'm just glad I actually finished a draft for once T-T #the writers' block has been bad lately #so thanks again to the hosts for giving me the inspiration to write through it!! I hope you like it <3 #'tis the season for love #'tis the season for love content creation challenge #ikemen prince #ikepri #ikemen prince silvio #ikepri silvio #silvio ricci #cybird #ikepri fanfic

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ray-gt · 2 years

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Something’s Shifted Short: I’ll Be Home for Solstice

Hello! Thank you so much and I'm so sorry it's taken forever for me to reply to this (we are well and truly past the holiday season, so this is very much too late.) I'm so grateful that you still enjoy my stories, even though I don't post nearly as often as I used to. I love this idea though! And it's been forever since I've written about my girls, so I'm excited to dive back in with them. To answer your question, in my head Lilah's people don't celebrate the same big end of year holidays that humans do. Instead, their major holidays fall on the solstices. In this instance, it is the summer solstice, because I'm from the Southern Hemisphere and I've only ever experienced summer Christmases, so that's what I think of when I think of the holidays! (I know, I'm criminally biased) I wrote a little thing below about all the fun things (and less fun things) that go down when you go to your giant girlfriend's house to celebrate the holidays. Enjoy! ray xx

______________________________________________________________ I'll be home for Solstice

"Remind me," Dani said, turning off the highway. By now she'd done the drive to Lilah's parents' place enough times to memorise it. "The Solstice is..?" "Well, that's the closest to what humans would call it." Lilah said, she was looking in the passenger mirror and running her fingers through here long, dark hair. "This is the Summer Solstice - Athra Estra. In myth, it's the day our goddess, La-Athra, conquered the long dark and brought the everlasting sun to the world." She turned to Dani and her eyes, deep and dark like the sky at midnight, gleamed. "It's my favourite holiday. Everyone you love - friends and family - gathers together to eat, dance, give gifts. And at the end of it all, at sunset, we set off fireworks. It's meant to be symbolic of us continuing La-Athra's battle against the dark, but really it's just a bit of fun." Dani smiled, "I feel bad, you know so much about human culture, but I know nothing about yours. I'm excited." She felt Lilah place a gentle hand on her thigh. "And I'm excited to be able to share it with you. My family always hosts. It felt so strange last year when I was there while the most important person in my life was back at home, completely unaware of who I was. I actually almost invited you." Dani cackled. "That's one hell of a Christmas present, Li. 'Hey, do you want to come to my parents' house for the holidays? By the way I'm a giant and everyone there will also be giants. You in?'. I barely made it through when I actually found out, and that was just your family." Lilah laughed her way through a groan and flung her head back against the headrest. "Oh my god, don't remind me!" Dani smiled and looked over at her girlfriend. She really was beautiful. Her walnut skin glowed in the bright sunlight and hair fell in beautiful, sable curls to her waist. She wore a long, white summer dress that made her look like she'd just appeared out of some long-forgotten fairytale. Dani was similarly dressed in white - though she'd opted for a pair of long white linen trousers and a matching cami. Lilah had told her that wearing white on the Summer Solstice was a sign of good luck for the year. With Lilah's random shifting, we'll need all the luck we can get. Dani thought. "I'm just so glad you're going to be there." Lilah repeated. "So am I," Dani said. It's just a huge celebration of giants all gathered in the one place. What could go wrong?

*** Actually, to Dani's surprise, Athra Estra was going well. As always, Lilah's parents, Ava and Elijah, were lovely and made an excessive fuss over Dani, which was always a lot but also touching. So far, she'd spent the majority of it with Lilah and her brothers, Jasper and Conrad. She had to admit that every time she was introduced to one of Lilah's relatives or friends, she was on edge. Dani didn't love being ogled and stared at constantly, but she wondered what would happen if the roles were reversed - if Billie brought home a partner the size of a phone, would she be any better? She had enough self-awareness to know she wouldn't. At least she could appreciate that everyone was respectful and kept a safe distance and never lingered too long. Overall, despite being near constantly overstimulated by the volume and crowd, Dani was having a good time. However, towards the end of the day, Dani was reaching her limit and Lilah noticed immediately. She tucked her tiny girlfriend in her hands and carried her, close to her chest, to a quiet backroom off the kitchen. The closest Dani could equate it to was a mud room with a door to the backyard, hooks and storage for coats and boots, and a small table and chairs to rest at. It was on this table that Lilah gently placed Dani down. Dani looked up at her and smiled. "Thank you," She breathed. "I promise, I'm having a good time but, you know, it's a lot." Lilah nodded and smiled. "Totally fine, even I get overwhelmed some times when we have so many people over. I'm amazed you've lasted this long." "What can I say, Li?" Dani shrugged. "I'm pretty tough." Lilah snorted, "Yeah sure. Miss 'I need to take an hour-long bath every Saturday night to decompress'. You're a real soldier." Dani laughed and made to reply but was distracted by a figure opening the back door. The giant woman that entered through it was striking to say the very least. Golden skin, bright copper hair that fell to her chest, eyes so blue you risked being caught adrift in them. Dressed in a long white flowing slip dress, she was like an ancient goddess. When she saw Lilah she smiled broadly and stretched her arms out wide. "Lilah!" She said with a voice that sounded like it should be paired with red wine. Lilah turned and delight spread across her face. "Oh my goodness! Tia?" She stood up and ran to the woman, embracing her totally. "I didn't know you were coming?" "Of course!" Tia said with Lilah's head tucked against her shoulder. Then the giant's bright eyes zeroed in on Dani and something she couldn't quite define passed over them. "How could I turn down the opportunity to see you? When your ma said you'd be back for Athra, I cancelled all my other plans." Dani watched as she wrapped her long arms further around Lilah's waist - coiling around her like a snake and holding her there, pressed close, one against the other - and a feeling she wasn't proud of stirred in her. When she uncoiled, Tia cupped Lilah's beaming face in her hands and brought it so close, Dani thought she might kiss her. Maybe this is just a giant thing. You don't know. Don't assume. "Lilah, my love, it's been far too long since I've seen your beautiful face and I've missed it dearly." She said, and as she said it, it was like her tongue was drenched in honey. This is fine. "I was afraid the humans would rub off on you, but you are just as lovely as ever." Less than fine. Dani clamped her teeth down on her tongue. The giant knew she was there, and either she didn't care that Dani would hear or was explicitly saying it so she would. She could hear her sister Billie in the back of her head screaming at her to not back down, to take out her earrings and call the larger woman out. And maybe Billie would be the only human actually willing to go through with that, but Dani certainly wasn't. She knew her strengths. If she could take a major construction corporation to court over WHS concerns and win, she could handle whatever the hell this was.

"Speaking of," Lilah said, letting the comment slide. She walked back to Dani and crouched beside the table so that hers and Dani's faces were aligned. "Tia, this is my girlfriend, Dani."

Lilah's smile was so wide and excited that Dani forgot every doubt that had just fluttered through her mind. She couldn't help but smile back.

Until she heard a laugh from high above her.

She turned to find Tia's eyes stabbing into her, icy and sparkling. Dani felt the stare ripple through her whole body, knocking loose all her muscles and bones until she felt like she was just jelly in the shape of a person.

Tia had a sharp eyebrow raised and she crossed her arms over her chest.

"So, it's true." She said with a half-smile, crooning like there could be no other news that would delight her more. She raised her chin. "I thought it was a joke. Dani, is it? Did I hear that right?"

Dani nodded. "Yep, nice to-"

"- Speak up, love." Tia interrupted, emphasising the command with a wave of her hand. "I can't hear you from all the way down there."

Dani frowned and a number of potential responses rose like magma from her chest, but before she could use any of them, Lilah laughed.

"Don't worry, Dani. Tia's just messing with you. That's just what she does."

Tia shrugged casually but her eyes were stony and cold.

"Lovely." Was all Dani trusted herself to say.

Then, from the kitchen, Ava called out. "Delilah, I need you in here washing dishes! Come help me."

Lilah sighed and rolled her eyes. "Ugh, she always has such wonderful timing." She glanced at Dani. "Want to come?"

Before Dani could reply that 'yes please, she'd do literally anything to get as far away from whoever Tia was and never come across her again', Tia protested.

"No!" She said, pressing clasped hands to her chest. "Don't take her away. I'd love to get to know Dani a bit better."

Dani met her eyes and saw a glint in them. There was something predatory about the way they scanned her up and down. Dani paused. Tia had put the challenge before her - would she rise up to meet it, or would she run? It reminded her of something one of the partners of her firm told her after a run-in with a particularly nasty client.

'O'Brien, the worst kind of people will inflate themselves to feel big and make you feel small, but it's always an act. All it takes is one well-timed hit to their ego and they run off, tail tucked and whimpering. Know your value, don't back down.'

She wondered if that still applied in this moment.

Lilah blinked, taken aback seemingly by Tia's eagerness. Brief glimpses of different reactions flashed across her face in a moment.

"Oh, ok." She said before looking at Dani, searching for confirmation that she was comfortable with the request. "Is that alright?"

Dani glanced back and forth between Lilah and Tia and closed her fists.

"Yep." She forced a smile. "I'd be happy to."

Lilah's stare lingered on her for a second longer. She was unconvinced, but didn't argue.

"Ok," She said. Then she kissed Dani, covering the whole side of her face with her lips. "Love you."

Then Ava called out again and, with a huff, Lilah left the room, leaving Dani and Tia alone.

***

"So, how do you know Lilah?" Dani asked, staring up at Tia who had sat down on one of the chairs at the table. The giant had her elbows up and was resting her chin on her interwoven fingers, staring down at her.

"Well, it's funny story actually." Tia replied, drawing it out slow. "Let's just say, I was you before you. If that makes sense."

Fantastic.

Dani had met plenty of exes before, finding that they span a spectrum between the loveliest people she'd ever met and people she'd rather die than meet again. And while it was always unpleasant to begin with, she usually felt like she could hold her ground. Now, her ground was a kitchen table the size of a house, and the ex a towering giant far above her.

"You know," Tia continued, she undid her hands and brought a pointed nail to draw loosely on the table in front of Dani's feet. "We took a break when Lilah wanted to have her little 'adventure with the humans'." At this, she fluttered her fingers as if she found the whole idea a childish fantasy Lilah just needed to get out of her system. "And, I couldn't believe it because, after three years, she's still playing pretend with them! And what's even crazier is that, a year ago, she comes back and tells me that we won’t get back together because she's met someone."

Oh no.

"And not just anyone. A human!" She shook her head in disbelief and her copper locks swayed like curtains in a breeze. Her frown was low and dark and Dani hated that the entirety of if was directed at her. "So, when I found out that the human in question would be coming to Athra Estra, I knew I had to see what the fuss was all about."

Dani clenched her jaw, planted her feet, and cross her arms.

I won't be bullied.

"And?" She asked, tilting her head and swallowing down the terror when she met Tia's stare.

Tia squinted her eyes, and her long, dark lashes blinked slowly. Her brow lowered and she smirked. Dani watched with dread as an idea bloomed across the larger woman's face.

"And," Tia drawled. She raised the finger she'd been drawing across the table surface and, before Dani could appropriately react, Tia brought it under her chin. Lilah had done something similar before, but this was different. Very different. Lilah was gentle and soft. In those instances, Dani felt more like her chin was resting on Lilah's finger than Lilah pushing her to do anything. She'd never had any other giant come so far into her personal space before, let alone touch her. Tia's nail held her captive. It dug into her skin and forced her to look up. She swallowed and the nail dug deeper.

"Well, I can see how a human could be a little bit of fun for a while. Especially one so pretty." She purred through it and Dani couldn't stop her breath from becoming haggard and desperate. Her heart was pounding beneath her ribs. Her hands gripped the finger, trying to push it away but it was no use against the larger woman. Tia tutted her tongue and shook her head. "But I think Lilah will come to her senses soon and realise just how silly it is."

Dani fought everything in her body telling her muscles to freeze and managed to push herself backwards and away from the nail.

"Don't touch me." She said, and her voice was softer than she'd liked. She rubbed her neck and the feel of the dent on her skin made her burn hot. She cleared her throat and when she next spoke, her voice sounded stronger and firmer than she felt inside. "Don't touch me. Don't talk to me like that. I really don't care if you like me, but I'm a person, and I refuse to be treated like this."

Tia snorted. "You refuse, do you? That's sweet."

Then she slammed her fist down on the table right next to Dani making her yelp and stumble back and lose her footing. She fell back on the table, staring with horror at the hand half the size of her own body curled in a tight, white-knuckled fist.

Above her, Tia laughed.

"Sorry, darling," She said. "I think my elbow slipped. I really should be more careful." She paused and looked down at Dani. "What were you saying?"

Tia adjusted her fist and Dani couldn't help but flinch at the movement. She felt her face blanch. Tia hummed.

"Now, this?" Her smile showed teeth. "This explains Lilah's interest. This is fun."

Before Dani could scramble away, the fist unfurled and scooped her up from the table, and as she felt the giant fingers curl around her and yank her into the air, Dani couldn't help but scream. She squirmed in the grip as Tia brought it close to her huge, beautiful face. The giant used a finger from her other hand to brush against Dani's hair and every time it made contact, Dani shuddered.

"Let me go." She managed.

Tia laughed again but now it was impossibly loud, and the sight of her huge teeth so close sent every one of Dani's nerves into overdrive.

Lilah, please come back.

But she knew if she called out, no one would hear her.

"If I were you, Dani." Tia warned. "I'd be more careful of what I demanded of people who were so much bigger than me. Who could tighten their fingers," At this, Dani felt the grip around her constrict and she struggled to breathe. "A do some real damage. My, with even the smallest movement, I could kill you. And that would be so terrible!"

Know your value. Don't back down.

"Then do it." Dani challenged with a strained voice. She did her best to raise her chin.

In that moment, confusion flicked across Tia's glacial eyes and, for a moment, she seemed unsure.

"What?" She snarled.

Dani swallowed down her thundering heart and hoped her face didn't betray just how terrified she was. She’d mastered what Lilah had called her "lawyer face", which was what she used to drive away the flood of imposter syndrome that always came when she was given an important case. So far, it had carried her through a lot of uncomfortable exchanges. She hoped it would see her through now.

"All you have are empty threats." She said, doing her best to ignore just how much bigger Tia was than her - that she very much could go through with whatever cruel fantasy she'd conjured behind her crystalline eyes. "You say you could do anything to me, that you could hurt me, and I believe it. But you won’t follow through." She lowered her voice and, whether she was conscious of it of not, Tia leant in. "If I were you, I’d think just a little bit. Are you really going to hurt me here? Here? In Lilah's family home, with her in the very next room? With potential witnesses coming in at any moment? That is really, really stupid. If I were you, I’d be smarter than that."

Tia's expression darkened to a terrible scowl but, to Dani's surprise and relief, the grip around her body loosened. Tia used her free hand to comb through her long hair as she slowly lowered the one holding Dani. When it was back on the table, she opened it and Dani sprawled out, panting.

"Clearly," The giant said, though her tone wavered. "Humans don't understand a joke when it's right in front of them." She shot a glare down at Dani. "But I would be careful, Dani. Darling. You'd be so easy to lose in this big world. And that would be a tragedy."

Then she stood up and walked back through the door to outside, leaving Dani heaving in a pile of stress and sweat.

Eventually, Dani forced herself to sit up. She placed a hand on her chest and felt the drumming beneath her ribs. She let out a long breath and slowly it returned to a normal rhythm.

She realised just how naive she'd been. All the giants she'd me before were unbelievably kind. She hadn't even considered that one may actively dislike her or take advantage of their significant power over her.

"I need to be more careful."

Then from behind, she heard a voice that cleared all the stress and tension away. "Dani!"

She turned to see Lilah glowing in the doorway, her face framed with her long dark hair.

When Lilah saw her, she frowned. "You ok?" She walked over to the table and bent down again. "Where's Tia?"

Even the name sent a ripple down Dani's spine.

"She left." She said simply, then she ran a hand through her hair, feeling where her sweat had drenched the roots. "Christ, Li, she's a piece of work."

Concern flashed on Lilah's face and she scanned Dani for any sign of injury. "What did she do?"

She didn't know why she didn't want to tell Lilah what had really happened. Maybe there was part of her that thought Tia was right - that if she knew how dangerous this relationship could be, Lilah would leave it.

So Dani just waved her concern off. "It's fine." Then she forced out a laugh and winked. "I scared her off."

Lilah grinned. "Did you now?"

"I'm very intimidating, Lilah."

"I don't doubt it, love." Lilah laughed. "Come on, it's almost sunset. I want to show you something."

As Lilah stretched her hand towards her, as she had so many times before, Dani flinched. It was something Lilah noticed and something Dani tried to hide. Neither of them addressed it. Dani took a deep breath and stepped onto Lilah's palm and at once, it was familiar again.

Lilah took her outside. The sky was almost dark and all around, Lilah's friends and family gathered, looking up.

Then the moment they were waiting for came and from somewhere out of sight, huge fireworks shot up into the black sky like paint splattered onto a canvas.

They exploded into a thousand different colours and rained down like falling stars from above. Each one sent a boom through Dani's whole body, and behind her, she could feel the jump of Lilah's heart every time. And, despite herself, in that moment, Dani believed in magic.

"Happy Athra Estra, Dani." Lilah said from above her.

Then she felt her girlfriend raise her hand and kiss her head. Dani smiled, staring up at the sky, all her fears forgotten.

"Happy Athra Estra, Li."

_______________________________________________________________________

(Thank you again for the ask! This was really fun to write. I’ve missed my girls. - ray xx)

Read more of Dani and Lilah’s store here!

#gt #g/t #giant/tiny #gt writing #g/t writing #g/t community #g/t fluff #g/t fearplay #queer gt #oc: dani #oc: lilah #maybe I should really look at continuing something's swapped #hmmmmm #ray's writing

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clothyume · 7 months

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A Premature Burial Episode 3

A Premature Burial

Episode 3

Season: Winter

Characters: Mika, Shu

(Noon the next day. Itsuki family villa, where Shu Itsuki was born and raised.)

Shu: How nostalgic.

Hmph. It’s certainly an unbecoming building that’s only halfway western. The only redeeming quality is it makes that unpleasant Tenshouin jealous.

Mika: Nnah~ Oshisan really likes western stuff, don’t ya.

Shu: Japanese style is tasteful as Japanese. You can’t do anything in halves, and I think The Rokumeikan* is an embarrassment that will pertain in Japanese history.

*A two story building that was built in Tokyo 1883, and is a controversial symbol of westernisation in the Meiji period.

I suppose some art can only be born in such transitional chaos.

Oh well. You’re well acquainted with this house, so leave your belongings in the spare room you used before.

At the moment we aren’t housing any guests, so I believe that room has been left as it was.

While you’re doing that I'm going to give my regards to my parents.

Mika: Ah, let’s go together. It’s been a while since yer family looked after me, so I wanna greet ‘em properly too. I even brought gifts.

Shu: Hmph. You seem to have learned some manners.

Mika: I gotta lotta experience in society, ‘specially in the past year—-

By the way Oshisan, it might be too late to ask but, why am I stayin’ with yer parents?

Shu: It certainly is too late now. Also I’d like to clarify, this isn’t my parents home.

The Itsuki family main residence is in Kansai, this is simply the villa that was built in Tokyo by the previous head of the family several generations ago.

So to speak, this is just a foothold for advancing into Tokyo, a front-line base. Or a holiday house.

The main residence is a very old-fashioned Japanese style, and in terms of convenience it is inferior to modern architecture.

Out of concern for my grandfather, who was in poor health, this building was purposely designed to be barrier free, which is how my family came to move here.

Mika: Kinda like a nursin’ home fer yer grandfather.

Shu: Yes. That was before I was born, and even though this is the house I was born and raised in, I have no problem with that.

Though my grandfather worried those around him by saying he was going to die over and over, in the end he survived more than 10 years.

It was probably a ruse that my western-minded grandfather had created because he wanted to live in a European style house.

Mika: No way, that ain’t—

Shu: I hate that it’s possible, in my grandfather’s case.

You only saw him when we went to visit him together, therefore to you he was simply an emaciated sick man.

To the Itsuki family, my grandfather was always the eye of the storm.

A disaster of a man that would blow up on a whim and make a mess of everything.

When I was a child, time and time again my grandfather would cause trouble.

However, nobody could complain because my grandfather was hailed as the man who restored the Itsuki bloodline. Everyone is fed up.

Perhaps this time too is just another one of my grandfather's usual tantrums, considering the way Onii-sama spoke.

Mika: (Ah, just what ya’d expect from Oshisan. I’m glad~ It’s probably just like Ryu-kun-san and Nazuna-nii said.)

(Oshisan’s grandfather passin’ away was just a silly lie, a joke, he's probably full of life.)

(Oshisan seems real calm compared to what I heard from Ryu-kun-san…)

(That’s right, he ain’t a child that panics every time anythin’ happens anymore.)

Shu: …What is it? Stop looking at me with that unpleasant pitiful expression!

Mika: Nnah~ Sorry? What I’m sayin’ is, when I was a freeloader I didn’t ask ya anythin’ outta consideration—-

So this time, I’m happy I get to hear about yer home life♪

Shu: Hmph. I wouldn’t mind even if you asked me tactlessly. You’re already family in more ways than one.

Well, if you had asked me something at the time I was unstable, I suppose I would only have fallen irrationally angry.

#raison d'etre #ensemble stars #enstars #shu itsuki #mika kagehira #english translation

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halamet-chalamet · 1 year

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hey there lovely! i wanted to try out the spencer reid x reader headcanons, even though i feel like we're both quite the opposite (preferably with earlier seasons reid cuz i'm only in my early 20's!! thank u♡)

i'm an ambivert; i seem a bit cold and closed-off around new people, but once they've taken the time to get to know me more i become outgoing and i would often crack jokes

i love summertime! going to the beach and amusement parks are my favourite things to do, i'm an adrenaline junkie when it comes to rollercoaster. and i still run to an ice cream truck whenever i hear that jingle

my love languages are gift giving and words of affirmation!! i love receiving and giving hand written letters, but i'm not too big on physical touch unless i'm REALLY comfortable with the other person. i also love listening to others ramble even if it's about a topic i don't understand well. i'm easily influenced to pick up a new interest or hobby as long as it's with someone close to me.

i love music!! i play the guitar and i love singing as well. i'll listen to anything from metal, grunge, indie rock to pop, r&b and hip-hop/rap.

i've recently picked up on new hobbies such as, embroidery, scrapbooking/journaling, and reading. i've mostly read horror and thriller since it is one of my fave genres!! i'm into spooky/creepy things, and halloween is my favourite holiday cuz i love to dress up and shamelessly eat candy. i'm also spiritual, i've been practicing tarot, and i'm very drawn to the moon as well as cats!! i wish to adopt 2 someday :')

i also collect stickers, perfumes, crystals, and lots of hello kitty stuff. i love anything pink and hyper feminine but i also adore alternative fashion, i never limit myself to just 1 style. i love thrifting and diy-ing my clothes whenever i can!!

i have red dyed hair, dark brown eyes, 5ft tall, and i have a tiny heart tattoo on my shoulder. i've been doing my own "tattoos" lately, but i limit myself to only poking faux beauty spots on my body before i do actual designs.

Sorry I was kinda dead the past few days :)) I’m back!!

Okay sis! Early seasons Reid is coming your way!

Your ambivert personality is perfect for Spencer!

If he need less you can be less if he needs more you can do that too! (In regards to social situations)

Pshhh when he gets feeling real cheesy he calls you the summer to his winter brooo

Once he gets over how many germs are shared at amusement parks through the railing, the seats, the line, etc he loves to go with you

We all know Spencer loves a good adrenaline rush (hence his job)

Loves to go to the beach with you but alllllways overpacks and gets scared if he goes too far in the water

Just imagine you hearing the ice cream truck and dragging Spencer out with you so he awkwardly runs behind you

And him being all giggly and happy eating his ice cream 😭

Please introduce him to new music my dude he needs to broaden his horizons a LOT and your eclectic taste will do that!!

Gets sooo excited that you don’t get weirded out by horror stuff

He shares his books with you (of the thriller genre)

And definitely asks to do a matching costume!

Spencer picks up on things really easy

So he’ll watch you and your hobbies and learn to do them with you!!

I imagine him loving your hyper femme side

It kinda reminds him of Garcia

I could see you two being friends which makes Spence SO happy

He traces your “tattoos” and thinks they look adorable

It’s a quirk of yours he’ll never get over

And suggests you get the really pretty ones permanent <33

Okay okay okay I’m so sorry this took so long school has been crazy!! But it’s here I hope you enjoy it!! Love you all byeeee 💖💖

#criminal minds #spencer reid #mathew gray gubler #mgg fanfiction #send requests!#spencer reid x reader #mathew gray gubler x reader #spencerreid #criminal minds headcanons #anabelle’s thoughts #spencer reid ships

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belphegor1982 · 2 years

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“The night before we got married, I was so nervous. I came here to see Mr. Miyagi. He sat me down, poured me a cup of tea... and some sake. And we talked about you.”

Amanda’s last evening as a bachelorette with her family (mom, cousin, aunts and uncle) gets a little derailed by nerves. Sometimes you just need some perspective to help you sort everything out.

I’ve had season 5 of Cobra Kai doing cartwheels in my head and stuff to my heart for a month and a half (ish) now, in particular episodes 5, 6 and 10. What Amanda says in 5.06 about her conversation with Mr Miyagi made me wish we could have seen that kind of scene in the show. (and cry. It made me cry, big time.)

So I wrote it ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

___________

In the Light of Tea and Sake

Winnetka, San Fernando Valley, 1999

“Well, I think that’s it.”

“That’s it? Really?”

“Yep. Everything on the list.”

Daniel took a sip from his espresso. How he could keep downing coffee at 6PM and still sleep like a log afterward had always baffled Amanda. Especially since he wasn’t exactly short on energy to begin with.

“Wow.”

Amanda took the paper, sliding it closer on the table. The ‘list’ in question was a little chaotic and largely symbolic anyway, but it was something, seeing all those checked boxes in front of various items like Pick up dress from the dry cleaner, Send RSVPs, or Order extra Lambrusco. They weren’t even in the correct chronological order, but every single one was crossed out.

For some reason her heartbeat was very loud in her chest, and she wasn’t sure all of it could be chalked up to excitement.

“We’re getting married,” she said softly, almost to herself.

Daniel flashed her a grin.

“Well yeah, that was the idea.”

“No, I mean… married.”

“That’s… a thing that can happen when two people decide they want to spend the rest of their lives together. You’re not going Runaway Bride on me now, are ya?”

A smile slipped past the tension in Amanda’s chest.

“And miss on the buffet afterward? Are you kidding?”

She was rewarded by a laugh and a cheeky grin, followed by an exaggerated waggle of eyebrows which Daniel was bound to know looked both ridiculous and charming.

Some of the weird tension inside her eased.

God, she loved that man so much.

At least that had never been in question.

“You’re so much prettier than Julia Roberts, anyway,” he said loyally, before adding, “Besides, you know the only thing that’ll be different tomorrow night is that we’re gonna be wearing a ring, right here.” He pointed at his left ring finger. “The ceremony’s just an excuse to get everyone we love together for once. Once that’s out of the way we’ll all stuff ourselves with great food, and dance, and we’ll have a great time. Oh, that reminds me – give me the list, I just thought of something –”

Food, dance, and all their loved ones in one place. Amanda couldn’t help but smile at the mental picture. Sure, when you put it that way, it all sounded so simple. Daniel had a gift for making complicated things sound simple, or at least straightforward.

But this shouldn’t be complicated, should it?

Except… Maybe it should. It was one of the biggest decisions of her life, after all, right up there with deciding to swap Ohio State for UCLA almost at the last minute and move halfway across the country. Talk about a leap of faith. At least she’d had Aunt Pat, and Jessica on holidays sometimes.

So. Maybe a few jitters were only natural.

She put her chin in her hand, letting her shoulders sag, and gazed at the man seated near her at their kitchen table. He was scribbling his last-minute entry on their list with the earnestness he usually reserved for tasks like writing letters or trimming bonsais. Things he loved doing.

Amanda smiled softly into her palm, almost despite herself.

“What are you adding?”

“Nothin’ important, just a couple of ideas for the music. You know, in case the DJ goes through his entire playlist and decides to take requests.”

“It’s our wedding, babe,” she pointed out. “I’m pretty sure we’ll be allowed a few requests. You know, besides the first song.” She paused. “Although I might have to bribe the guy with cake to get him to play ‘Always’ at some point. Preferably around 11PM when we’re all a little wasted on champagne and I can get you to myself for a slow dance.”

Daniel’s grin came back full force. “Way ahead of you.”

It was the second of the songs he’d added to their Things To Do Before The Wedding list, the first being ‘Desperado’, because he loved the 70s and 80s soft rock he’d grown up with. Besides the Eagles and Bon Jovi, the rest of the songs was pretty eclectic. Amanda was fairly sure he’d thrown in ‘Tutti Frutti’ specifically for his mom to lindy hop to.

With him, probably.

Daniel LaRusso was something of a momma’s boy (the logical result of having been a family of two for so long), a trait which against all odds Amanda found charming. If only Lucille’s attitude toward her didn’t set her future daughter-in-law’s teeth on edge…

Good thing Daniel’s close family didn’t stop at his mother.

Sometimes it felt just a little odd that he and the closest thing he had to another parent essentially called each other “Mister” all the time, like a teacher and his student, but over the years Amanda had learned to hear the terms of endearment behind the honorifics.

When she looked up from the list she met Daniel’s eyes, warm and a little bit wistful.

“Still set for your girls’ night, then?”

“It’s more of a games night, really,” she pointed out. “Besides, my uncle Brian will be there too, so I don’t know if you can really call it a girls’ night. But yes, I’d better get going. Aunt Pat likes everybody to be punctual for big dinners and I’ll be glad to see Jessie again. And mom,” she added as an afterthought, feeling vaguely guilty that it had to be a late addition.

“Okay. Well, enjoy your last night as a bachelorette.”

“Aren’t you gonna tell me to not do anything you wouldn’t do?”

Daniel snorted.

“I think we both know the chances of that are pretty slim.”

“Oh, please. I know you’re a bit impulsive, but surely you couldn’t be that reckless as a kid, right?”

“That depends on where you rank ‘Blowing all my savings on a last-minute passport and round trip to Okinawa’ on your scale of reckless things people can do.”

“Pretty damn reckless, yeah. But in context it was also incredibly sweet, so as far as I’m concerned it doesn’t make the scale.” She leaned in to kiss him, lingering just a bit, hoping he wouldn’t feel just how fast her heart thumped an erratic rhythm against her ribcage. “I’ll see you at the church tomorrow, then.”

“Can’t wait,” said Daniel softly, all shining eyes and earnestness, with no trace of the nerves she realised with a flash of guilt she’d been trying to squash for a while.

No doubt there, no uncertainty. He was one hundred percent committed to marrying her and, like he said, spending the rest of his life with her – like his parents probably would have if his father hadn’t died way too soon.

Amanda had made her choice, wanted that, too, so… Why was she so goddamn nervous?

She turned up the volume on the radio in the car to drown out the question, and resolutely avoided glancing back at the cover bag that contained her dress for the entire drive to Aunt Pat’s Chatsworth house.

* * *

The door opened on Aunt Pat’s beaming smile.

“Heads up, folks, here comes the bride!”

Amanda barely had the time to smile back and say hi before she was engulfed in a warm hug and plied with questions about how she was keeping, and was she excited for tomorrow, and her well-being in general. Aunt Pat was a veritable whirlwind, her love as generous as it was relentless, and in the blink of an eye Amanda was whisked upstairs, hugged welcome several times, and seated on the couch between her mom and her Uncle Brian.

“So good to see you, honey.”

“How are you doing, Mandy?”

God, she’d missed them. But she hadn’t missed being the last guest who inevitably took the spotlight and got mobbed.

Amanda found herself calling on everything she and Daniel had had to learn when they’d started selling cars to and rubbing elbows with North Hollywood royalty in order to mask the anxiety churning dully in her stomach.

(Those people could smell impostor syndrome a mile away, like sharks with blood in the water. You needed the right smile, the right poise, and a self-confidence that could shatter a rock. She’d gotten surprisingly good at it. Daniel was still working out some kinks.)

“Oh, well I –”

“Don’t crowd the poor girl,” exclaimed Aunt Maggie from the staircase. Presumably she’d been the one to take Amanda’s overnight bag and dress upstairs to what had been Jessica’s room once. “Canapés, sweetie? Brian made them specially for you.”

“I know you like ‘em,” Uncle Brian chimed in with fake bashfulness and real pride, handing her the plate.

Amanda picked one – a spinach and goat cheese pastry, nice – and grinned. “Thanks.”

“He’s not the fancy caterer you picked for the wedding reception, but nothing can beat your uncle’s cooking, right?”

“Mom,” said Jessica from the armchair she’d sat in after welcoming Amanda with a brief hug like everyone else, “please. You promised you wouldn’t say anything more about the catering. I’m sure it’ll be great,” she added with a smile in Amanda’s direction. The warmth of it eased a knot that had just started to tense in Amanda’s shoulders.

Aunt Maggie sighed the heavy sigh of the put-upon, but thankfully didn’t protest.

“So, Jessie,” said Amanda swiftly, before more questions or remarks about her upcoming wedding, “how’s Nick? And Holly and Paige?”

“They’re fine,” Jessica said, helping herself to more appetisers. “Nick’s minding the girls tonight.” She laughed. “They’re all psyched up about tomorrow, but I don’t know how much of that is getting to sleep in a hotel or the prospect of hurling flower petals at people tomorrow. We’re gonna have a couple of excited little gremlins on our hands until they serve the cake,” she added with transparent fondness.

Amanda shook her head with a snort. “Sorry about that. If I’d known asking them to be flower girls would create monsters…”

“Don’t worry, they love you and Daniel to pieces. They’ll keep their mischief down to tame levels for your sakes.”

“I’ll drink to that.” Amanda raised the glass of white wine Aunt Pat had just put in her hand and toasted them both.

There was a scoff to her right.

“What, Mom?”

“Nothing, darling, just… I still don’t understand why you’d want to put yourself through all this hassle. I understand wanting a big family reunion, but you don’t need a wedding for that. Do you know just how many marriages end in a divorce these days?”

Amanda had to force herself to take a second to breathe – in through the nose, out through the mouth, Mr. Miyagi’s voice echoing in her head the way it did when she did her yoga while he and Daniel did katas – and attempted to smile. The result felt more strained than what she aimed at. She must really be off tonight; usually her diplomacy game was much better than that.

“Four point one for every thousand Americans1, I know, Mom. You told me. Several times.” At least she still knew the exact amount of warning needed in her tone to make her mother know she was toeing the limits. “But it was my choice. Our choice.”

For a second, Joanne appeared to have a ready argument on her tongue. Fortunately, it was the moment Aunt Pat chose to clap her hands and ask her to help her set the table.

“Oh, and Brian made buckeyes2 for dessert,” she added with a wink at Amanda and Jessica.

The two cousins looked at each other.

“Okay, how many of those do you think can we eat before we realise we no longer fit into our dresses?”

Jessica laughed. “I don’t know, but I like a challenge. Come on, let’s find out.”

Amanda popped one last canapé into her mouth and rose from the couch, taking Jessica’s arm as they went.

* * *

The dinner was excellent.

It was also, at times, endless.

At her best, Amanda cultivated patience like a well-kept garden. Being patient helped when co-running a business. It also helped smooth things out in her personal life. Her couple was a partnership of equals, well balanced, but she’d known from the start her temper was more even than Daniel’s. Each knew to take their turn at patience when the other needed some, though.

So it wasn’t like a few derogatory comments on her life choices and management style were enough to rile her up – not usually, and especially when scattered among casual kindnesses and funny anecdotes. Mrs LaRusso could dish worse than that on a good day. But the timing sucked.

Why couldn’t she seem to stop feeling so worried already?

“Joanne,” said Aunt Pat in a warning tone while they were all helping themselves to dessert, “leave the girl alone. That’s the second time she makes that face, and I don’t like that face.”

Amanda was tempted to point out that, as an almost twenty-nine-year-old with a thriving career, she was more of a woman than a girl, but at this point any kind of lifebuoy was welcome.

“I’m just saying,” said Joanne in a voice Amanda was annoyed seemed to sound much more reasonable than her own, “Daniel’s a good man and I’m sure you’ll be very happy together. It’s the shackling up I don’t get. Everything you own, everything you earn, you’ll have to share – you’ll completely lose your independence. And what if it doesn’t work out in the end?”

“Then you get to tell me ‘I told you so’,” Amanda retorted. The sarcasm came out sharper than she intended. She had to take a second to centre herself. “Look, Mom, can we drop the subject already? I just wanted a nice family dinner, not a re-enactment of the Salem trials.”

Her mother rolled her eyes, but softened.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I just want what’s best for you.”

Oh, for…

“So do I, and I’ve been old enough to know what I want for some time now.” Amanda paused as the realisation hit her. “And right now, I think… I think I want to go home.”

There was a shocked silence.

“Oh, sweetie,” said Aunt Pat, startled, “you’re not staying for game night?”

“Sorry, Aunt Pat, not tonight. I’m turning in early. If it’s okay with you I’ll be back here at 9 to get dressed, just after the hairdresser appointment. You know, if the dress still fits.”

The quip fell slightly flat. Her mother looked crestfallen.

“Amanda, honey, I swear I won’t say a single –”

Amanda waved a hand, already feeling calmer for her decision to not stay after all.

“I’m not storming off in a huff, Mom, don’t worry. I just… need my own bed right now. I’ll see you guys tomorrow, okay?”

To her relief, she was answered by murmurs of assent and sympathetic noises.

One of the perks of being a bride-to-be was that many people expected you to be nervous and irrational, and were more willing than usual to let it go. In hindsight, maybe she should’ve banked on that much earlier instead of doubling down on trying at all costs to come across as chill, efficient and cheerful to everyone but Daniel.

She bid everyone good night, kissed her mother on the cheek (getting an apology hug she’d probably appreciate better tomorrow), and picked up her handbag.

“Sorry about your mom,” said Jessica softly when they were both at the door. “And mine. And Dad. Wow, this dinner was kinda terrible, huh.”

“We’ve had better, yeah,” Amanda conceded with a small smile. “I really would have enjoyed the sleepover, though. Sorry about that.”

“Don’t worry, we can always take a rain check. I’m sure Daniel won’t mind if I borrow my cousin for a girls’ night out one of these days.” She paused, and rubbed her hand along Amanda’s arm. “Sure you’re gonna be okay?”

“I’ll be fine, Jessie. Thanks. I’m just a little beat right now.”

Jessica peered at her for a few seconds without saying anything, then pulled her into a hug Amanda returned gladly.

When they parted her heart was lighter, though it still beat uncomfortably loud in her throat.

“All right, go get some rest. I’ll save you some buckeyes.”

“And that is why you’re my favourite cousin,” said Amanda with a laugh. Jessica grinned.

“Yeah, I know. See you tomorrow morning, then.”

“Bye, Jessie.”

The lull had done Amanda good. By the time she was behind the wheel of her car, fishing her cell phone from her handbag to send Daniel a text, the tension that had kept building during the dinner was waning a bit. She still felt on edge though, like electricity running just under her skin.

She did want to go home, change into her most comfy pyjamas, and snuggle her boyfriend as if tomorrow weren’t anything special. Maybe pop Ghostbusters into the VCR. They’d watched it so many times over the years the tape was starting to get creases in some places.

But the state she was in right now… Daniel was a perceptive guy. What if he picked up on her nervousness and jumped to the wrong conclusion? Jitters weren’t cold feet, but it was bad, right? Or at least a bad sign?

Amanda flipped her phone closed, buckled her seatbelt… and threw her head back in frustration, hitting the headrest. Ugh. If that little voice in her head could just shut up—

She didn’t send the text, figuring she could surprise her boyfriend – fiancé – and drove off.

She was coming up to Sherman Way when she spotted the bridge over the Browns Canyon Wash in the near distance. Before she knew it, she was turning west toward Canoga Park.

This is probably a bad idea, she thought, but she kept driving.

* * *

Amanda knocked once, then twice, softly enough for plausible deniability that someone was on the threshold at all. The door opened before she could decide whether to stay or leave discreetly while it was still polite.

Mr. Miyagi’s eyebrows went up.

“Amanda-san?”

“Good evening, Mr. Miyagi,” she said, and did a hasty bow after belatedly realising she’d forgotten. “Sorry to bother you at this hour, I just… I…”

He waited until she failed to finish her sentence, then asked with a frown, “Thought you go to family tonight. Everything all right?”

Amanda gave a shaky laugh. “Yes. Well, no. Well, yes, it’s just… This is so dumb. I’m sorry, I’ll—”

“Amanda-san.” His voice was gentler than usual, less gruff. “Want some tea?”

She breathed out, let her tense shoulders sag a little.

“Tea would be lovely, thank you.”

Mr. Miyagi silently stepped aside to let her in.

Amanda went to sit on her knees in front of the low table, her hands in her lap. It felt strange, being there without Daniel. Mr. Miyagi had never made her feel unwelcome, even for a second, but the bond between those two was so obvious it was almost tangible, a living, breathing thing. They shared so many private jokes, and memories, and overall a kind of shorthand to each other that it might have made Amanda feel left out very easily.

She never did.

All it took was Daniel’s voice pulling her back from the sidelines, or Mr. Miyagi’s eyes twinkling as he shared a quiet smile with her, to remind Amanda that there was a place there with them that was just for her.

But she’d never been on her own there before, let alone at ten in the evening.

Mr. Miyagi soon came back with a tray loaded with a steaming teapot and two round cups. Amanda made sure to hold hers correctly, despite the impulse to wrap her fingers around it.

“Thank you,” she said quietly. Mr. Miyagi gave a short nod and sat down, too.

The tea was a good quality matcha, foamy and sweet, the perfect temperature when Amanda dipped her lips into it.

Her evening hadn’t been quiet. It had been frustrating at times, sure, but also full of love and laughter, a familiar brand of chaos as various conversations collided across the dinner table. As she closed her eyes to savour the silence, the heat of the cup, and the flavour of the tea, some of the tension that had made her heartbeat loud and her chest tight seemed to drain away.

The rest of that tension remained in place, but its coils were slightly less taut now.

The little house felt as it always did, cosy and warm despite the early October night outside flirting with the lower fifties. The light-coloured wood walls helped. So did the paper lamps, the rug, and the decorations here and there, testament to a life rich enough to contain several.

A few items stuck out, though. There was a navy blue suit on a coat-hanger, the pants neatly folded over the lower bar. It was flanked with another hanger, over which a white shirt was draped. Hanging around the hook of the hanger was a silk tie with a blue and white flower motif.

The shirt’s wide lapels were a few years out of date, but the ensemble fit together surprisingly well. And retro was in style, anyway.

Amanda smiled.

“Mr. Miyagi, you’re going to look fabulous tomorrow.”

“Good suit. Do all work.” He took a sip from his cup and glanced at her. “Good thing about wedding: everyone look at bride, nobody else. So Miyagi can wear flashy suit, no problem.”

Amanda suppressed the urge to shift uncomfortably.

“Hopefully they’ll be also looking at Daniel. I mean, he’s the groom. And his suit is pretty neat, too.”

“Hai. And Daniel-san look at you whole time.”

This time Amanda’s smile had a touch of heat in her cheeks. He probably would stare a little, at that.

Quiet fell again, so unobtrusively Amanda started when Mr. Miyagi asked, “So. What wrong?”

Amanda drank from her matcha again and gently laid the cup on the table.

“Mr. Miyagi, can I… can I ask you a question?”

Mr. Miyagi gave her a nod.

“Have you ever been nervous, even though there was absolutely no logical reason to be nervous?”

“Miyagi nervous plenty of time,” he said, glancing at her curiously. “Sometimes true reason hidden, only see later. Why?”

“I’ve been feeling… a little weird about tomorrow, all evening. Well, make that all week, now I think of it. And now I’m – I think I’m a bit scared?”

The last word surprised her even as she said it. She had to take a second to think, a little taken aback.

“Which is completely absurd,” she continued with a wave of her hand as though it might hide how self-conscious the admission made her feel. “I mean… It’s a wedding, not some high noon duel. I love Daniel and he loves me – we’ve been living together for four years, for God’s sake. I’m not having second thoughts, I’m just…”

Like earlier, Mr. Miyagi waited patiently until it became clear Amanda would not finish her sentence.

“Nothing wrong with nerves before big day. Natural.”

“I know, but… Look, we’re in 1999. People can choose to not get married and it’s not a big deal, so getting married shouldn’t be such a big deal, either. I mean, my mom just plain told me she didn’t get why I wanted a wedding. She thinks it’s old-fashioned.”

“And father?” asked Mr. Miyagi, pouring a second helping of tea into both their cups.

Amanda downed some of her matcha, licked the foam from her lips, and lowered her eyes.

“I didn’t invite him. We don’t have a good relationship.”

And if that wasn’t a spectacular understatement.

At the beginning, when they were drafting the list of guests, she’d hesitated. Daniel had said, Take your time, honey. It’s your call. I know things are complicated between the two of you. Which was sweet of him, because all he’d had to work from were the bare bones: that Ted Steiner had walked out on his family during Amanda’s last year of high school, that he lived in Boston now, and that neither Amanda nor her mother talked to him more often than a few times a year. Daniel hadn’t pried, hadn’t prodded at sore spots and scar tissue; he had taken what she’d been willing to give and not demanded anything more. Amanda had been ridiculously thankful for it.

Mr. Miyagi didn’t pry, either, nor offer platitudes. He was just there, giving silent support, with neither judgement nor impatience.

Amanda breathed out.

“My dad had an affair when I was a teenager. My mom caught him cheating and… I guess it was the last straw for their marriage. They got a divorce pretty soon after that.”

Mr. Miyagi shook his head ruefully, but made no comment.

“So… maybe that’s part of why I’m scared, you know. I do remember them being happy together, and I think even when that stopped they put up a convincing front for my sake, but… I’m not starting out this marriage thing with the best of examples, you know?

“I mean… Daniel’s parents really loved each other. I don’t really get on with his mom enough to have hearts-to-hearts with her about it, but Daniel’s a big fan of scrapbooks and photo albums and I’ve seen their faces when they look at his dad’s pictures. Perhaps he could have ended up having an affair, or doing something that’d make his family disappointed for some reason, but they’ll never know. They’ll always have these memories of him being a good husband, and a good dad, and that’s all they get to keep, because he’s dead. Meanwhile, my dad lives in Massachusetts with a woman sixteen years younger and he never remembers my birthday. And he blows me off when I call him at ‘inconvenient times’.”

Amanda downed her tea in one go, suddenly wishing for something a lot stronger.

“I didn’t mean to unload on you,” she said quietly, not quite looking Mr. Miyagi in the eyes. “Sorry about that. I think the bottom line is just that I’m scared that even good things go south eventually – someone dies, someone cheats, you know, life happens – and I’ve been trying not to think about that for some time. And now it’s all I can think about. I’ll be fine,” she added, “I think. But the timing is really, really bad.”

“Hm. Timing is what is, can’t change that.” She raised her eyes. Mr. Miyagi drank the rest of his matcha, then climbed to his feet with a slight groan. “Wait here a moment.”

While Amanda worked on swallowing the lump in her throat and blink the sting out of her eyes, he made his way across the room to a cabinet, from which he took a bottle and two glasses.

Not just any bottle, too. This was the kind of sake that always made its way into his cabinet as the winter grew close. The one Daniel said he couldn’t let him drink alone. He’d told her the reason for the yearly bender a couple of years ago, when he and Amanda had first moved in together and he’d come back from Mr. Miyagi’s one November morning with a massive hangover. Since then, grief and outrage fought an endless battle in Amanda’s heart whenever she saw the little hand-coloured photograph in Mr. Miyagi’s bedroom, but she’d never found the right words or the right moment to talk to him about it.

“Oh, Mr. Miyagi, you don’t have to –”

“At-at-at-at. Tea good, but for this? Strong stuff better. Drink.”

He poured two generous drinks and toasted Amanda’s tumbler. The glass went clink.

The wine was light, slightly sweet, with a kick at the end. It seemed to warm her throat and chest from the inside, much as the tea had. She closed her eyes for a second, enjoying the taste. And the kick. She had needed that kick.

When she opened her eyes again Mr. Miyagi was looking straight at her.

“How ridiculous do you think it is,” she asked in a low voice, “being scared of your own wedding?”

He shook his head.

“Amanda-san, in life, always easier to hide head in sand. Admit being scared, though – that pretty brave. You face fear.”

She took a sip from her glass to hide the wry turn of her mouth. “Brave is the last thing I’m feeling right now.”

“What feeling right now, then?”

“Stupid, mostly. And, well. Still nervous,” she added.

“Ah, not stupid. Just young.”

“Not that young.”

“And not that stupid either.” A small laugh escaped Amanda. Mr. Miyagi’s expression softened. “Miyagi… very nervous before wedding. Very young then, and very stupid.”

Amanda held her breath. He had never mentioned his wife to her before.

“Why were you nervous?”

“Daniel-san tell you about first trip to Okinawa?”

Amanda nodded. “He said you’d left your first love there. She was engaged to marry your best friend, and you left so you wouldn’t have to fight him to the death. And win,” she added in a softer voice.

Another time, another place, another world. Arranged marriages and duels of honour – it all sounded like a story, not like something regular people her parents’ or grandparents’ age could have gone through. And maybe at first glance the little old man seated next to her in a khaki button-down did not look like the stuff of stories. But as she had come to know him better, she’d come to know better.

Mr. Miyagi nodded with a smile.

“Hai. Yukie. Very kind, very smart. Very beautiful. Miyagi’s heart… broken, little pieces. Think never love again.

“I come to Hawaii in shame, start working small jobs. Fix carts, fix roads, cut cane in fields. Then… meet Sakiko.”

He stopped for a gulp of sake, then continued in a faraway voice, “And she smart, and kind, and beautiful too. Her laugh was like… sun, here.” He patted his chest. “Each time, little piece of heart come back. One day I ask, Will you marry me? And she not laugh. Say yes.”

Another gulp.

“Luckiest guy on Earth.”

Amanda drank, too, hoping it would make her throat less tight. It didn’t.

“And you were still nervous?”

“Of course. Sakiko was sunshine, I was bum with broken heart! Didn’t believe second chance at love. Too rare. Like, blow it with Yukie in Okinawa then, blow it with Sakiko in Hawaii now, you know?”

Despite everything Amanda had to bite on an unexpected smile. That last bit was definitely a LaRusso contribution to Mr. Miyagi’s English.

“So, what did you do?”

“Marry Sakiko anyway. Say to myself, Must not lose to fear. Love… too precious to be touched by something like fear.”

If Amanda had been seated on a chair, this would have been a perfect time to cross her arms on the table and lay her head on them, if only as a cover for the emotions she could feel rising in her throat. But the table was too low for that. Instead, she took another gulp of sake and leaned forward on her elbows, her whole body slumping even as her mouth wobbled into a smile at the last sentence.

A smile that fell when Mr. Miyagi poured himself another glass and muttered, “This story no happy ending, either.”

He stole a glance through the open door of his bedroom, where he kept Sakiko’s picture and the little box that contained some of his most painful memories. Amanda swallowed, her eyes burning.

“I know,” she murmured. “Daniel told me what happened then. Mr. Miyagi, I am so sorry, that—”

“Eh, long time ago. Not worry.” But his voice was rough, his eyes shining wetly in the dim light of the lanterns. He reached for his glass, downed some of the wine; when he set his glass down Amanda laid a hand on his arm, gently, at a loss for how to convey everything she wanted to.

Somewhat to her surprise, he didn’t pull his arm back.

“Was boy, you know. Little American Miyagi boy, born California. Sakiko wanted American name, like George, Harry. I wanted Kanryō, like father. Sakiko say, Why not both? Many Americans more than one name. Last letter say, Little Kanryō Harry strong, kick hard.”

Mr. Miyagi picked up his glass with his free hand and emptied it in one go. A breath shuddered out of him.

“Miyagi pretty damn lost for a while after. No pick up broken pieces for many years. Too much work.”

Amanda was reluctant to remove her hand, still clasping his arm. She clenched her lower jaw to keep it from trembling and wiped her eyes with the thumb of her left hand.

Mr. Miyagi made for the bottle again, but seemed to think better of it. Instead, his hand flopped on Amanda’s, patted it once or twice, then squeezed.

Then he let go and leaned back, blinking at the ceiling.

“Life, you know. Sometimes work out, sometimes, ah… sometimes not.”

“That’s one way to put it,” said Amanda, her voice thick and echoing around strangely in her head. Mr. Miyagi looked back down again and peered at her.

“Not mean give up on life. Never know what you find next. Like chocolate box.”

Something that might have been a laugh in different circumstances snorted its way through Amanda’s nose. Thank goodness she hadn’t been drinking. Look at the dignified bride, snickered a voice in her head that sounded a lot like her own.

“Did you just quote Forrest Gump!?”

“I watch TV,” Mr. Miyagi retorted with what she could recognise as a rather poor attempt at his usual stone-face sarcasm. Not that she’d dream of calling him out on it. “Good for catchy saying. Sound wise later, when make this face and go hmm. Listen to wise old Miyagi.”

Amanda, flabbergasted, dealing with severe mood whiplash, and maybe just a little buzzed after Aunt Pat’s dinner and half a glass of sake, stared at him open-mouthed for a while until delight started to creep into her face, like a blush. Mr. Miyagi smiled.

“Daniel-san make same face first time figure out karate training. Mouth open, big eyes, ooh.”

“I know that face,” Amanda laughed. “I’ve seen that face. His eyes go…” She made a gesture with all five fingers extended, palm out, and smiled fondly. “He loves to make everyone think he’s got it all figured out. You know, control, balance, and everything. But then something will blow his mind and wham – surprise face.”

“Hai. Good moment. Great fun, too.” Mr. Miyagi picked up his sake again, both his moustache and his glass almost hiding his smile until he realised there was no alcohol left in it. “Miyagi father teach karate since small boy. This high.” He raised his hand at a height Amanda, through her patchy experience with kids, guessed must mean ‘very young child’. “Do kata, blocks, balance exercises. Build good muscle, good reflex, good head. Years to learn. But Daniel-san, only two month training before tournament. Had to trick mind for body build muscle and reflex quickly.”

“And did he have a good head?” asked Amanda, resting her right elbow on the table and her cheek into her palm, smiling at the mental picture.

That smile widened at Mr. Miyagi’s expression.

“Eh… Depend. Hard head, yes. Big mouth. Bit of a handful. Tended to rush into things, not look right, not look left – only forward. Sometimes not even then!” He raised his eyebrows in mock outrage. “And stubborn, like mule. If really no want listen, no listen at all, even Miyagi, even mother!”

He shook his head.

“Good head, yes, sometimes – but good heart, always. Big heart. Bigger than him.”

Amanda had to smile again at that. She and Daniel were the same height; she stood taller than him when she wore high heels, but she’d always been tall for a woman. 5’9 was the average height for a man. He did seem to have twice the average amount of heart, though, which had been one of the things that had drawn her to him in the first place.

“You know,” said Mr. Miyagi as he screwed the sake bottle’s cap back on, “Daniel-san tell me later he was angry when he and mother move here, to California. I understand. Left family, friends. Memories. Tomb father buried. And for place that no want them, no understand them. Funny face, funny accent. Get laugh at, beat up. Don’t know rules here, he say.

“Well, Miyagi know thing or two about Don’t know rules here. He say angry boy now. I see lonely boy then. Polite to old Okinawa fixer guy. Gentle with bonsai. Come down, say, Hey, Mr. Miyagi, can hang out with you tonight? I know mother work late, I know boys with bad attitude in school. I say, Sure, here bonsai clipper. Here story about Okinawa. And then, later, karate training. But even after tournament, still show up. Do kata, help fix house, talk. Talk a lot,” Mr Miyagi added in that special tone of his, dry but for the twinkle in his eyes, “but, er… listen, too. Listen good, for young man who talk so much.”

Amanda smiled into her palm, both at Mr. Miyagi’s words and the guarded but transparent affection in his voice.

“He is good at that,” she murmured, “when he wants to be.”

“Hai. Sometimes forget, but never for long. Love bring him back, always.” He paused. “Even when being bonehead.”

The word made Amanda chuckle silently.

“He really means a lot to you, huh.” Like you mean the world to him, she didn’t say. But then again she was fairly sure she didn’t need to.

Mr. Miyagi pursed his lips in thought. Then gave a short nod.

“Boy lonely when come here. Miyagi… lonely for long time then. Busy life, busy hands, yes. But, er, heart need busy too. Need love to give, to get. Like bonsai; no love, then no water, no help shape and grow. Root go weak. No good.”

His eyes fell on a little juniper on a cabinet – one of the many bonsais scattered here and there, in the house and the garden – and his moustache twitched.

“Then one day Miyagi realise heart get pretty busy, too. Turn out lonely boy with big mouth and hard head, plenty of love to give. When I get letter from Yukie that father dying, he say, I’m coming with you, Mr. Miyagi. Be there for you. And when father die…” He cleared his throat. “When father die, no more wise Mr. Miyagi for a while. No more funny jokes, no more smart sensei. Just little old man alone, full of tears and regret.

“Daniel-san lose father, too. Shared grief with me then, regret, guilt. Kind words, gentle silence. Help pick up broken pieces.”

For some reason this reminded Amanda of her mom taking up yoga after Dad left, like her, so they’d share an activity that was all theirs and help each other through it. Or Jessica spending six months in California after Amanda moved in, just so she wouldn’t be alone in a strange place.

She drank from her sake and smiled into her glass, trying to catch Mr. Miyagi’s eyes.

“That’s what a good family does,” she said softly as she set the tumbler down. “Be there in the good times and the bad.”

“Miyagi not very good family. No see father for forty years.”

“No, but… family doesn’t have to be blood, right? You were there for Daniel and he was there for you. That’s the important thing.”

Mr. Miyagi shot her a side glance.

“True.” His gaze softened. “Once I lose baby boy. Later, I get young man. Not same, but not less.”

And before Amanda could figure out whether she wanted to smile or cry – and if she could get away with blaming it on the sake – he said in a voice that was a lot more like his usual matter-of-fact tone:

“You say Life happen – you right. I say Sometimes work out, sometimes not – Miyagi also right. But life is people, too. And…”

He stopped, as though searching for words.

“Look, important thing about Daniel-san: hot head, kind heart. Always fight for what believe, here.” He put his hand over his heart. “And what Daniel-san believe most is family, friends. Trust. Support in hard times. No walk away from difficult situation – go right toward trouble and say, I make this right. And I think you same, Amanda-san.”

“Mr. Miyagi,” said Amanda in a small voice, putting her chin in both her hands and leaning with her elbows on the table, “if you’re trying to promise me we’ll never have problems, I’m not gonna believe you.”

“No. You will have problems – plenty good couple have problems. But you and Daniel-san, love each other very much. Work through problems. Make good team.” He looked her in the eyes again. “Worth it.”

“I know,” murmured Amanda. “Believe me, I know.”

Fact was, she did know, and she’d known for a long time, way before anxiety had started to whisper inside her brain. She did have doubts, and fears, and insecurities – but never about that.

Maybe sometimes all you needed was someone to lay out the inside of your head for you and show you what was in it. In the light of tea, sake, and good insights, everything became just that little bit clearer.

Mr. Miyagi was smiling.

“So. You better?”

Amanda gave the question some consideration.

“Yes,” she said eventually with a solemn nod, “I’m better.”

“There you go. Power of matcha and nihonshu3. Work every time.”

“Power of a good host, too,” she pointed out, “and a good friend. Thank you, Mr. Miyagi.”

“Ah, no thank me. Want guest room? Is late. And you getting married tomorrow.”

She gave a laugh. “There is that, yeah. But I think I’ll go home. Thanks for the offer, though. And the perspective.”

Mr. Miyagi nodded and started getting to his feet, slower than before. The two glasses of sake and the late hour were taking their toll, like it did on Amanda.

“Thank you for company. Always welcome here. And, er, Amanda-san?”

“Yes?”

He hesitated again, although this time it didn’t look like he was searching for the right English words, but rather bracing himself.

“Next month, fifty-five years since… since telegram. I know Daniel-san come – not like it when Miyagi alone that night.” He cleared his throat. “If you… if you want to come, too… have tea, perhaps drink some sake in memory, then… Would be good. To have you.”

Amanda’s breath caught in her throat.

“I would like that,” she said softly, but with feeling. “I would like that very much. Thank you.”

Silence fell between them, soft and comfortable, a bridge rather than a divide.

When the moment broke, Amanda retrieved her handbag and her coat to leave; but as she went to open the door she let her hand fall and turned back to him.

“Mr. Miyagi?”

“Hm?”

She bit her lip, tasting the remnant of the lipstick she’d put on before leaving her and Daniel’s apartment. It felt like ages ago now.

“I, uh… I’d planned to walk down the aisle alone. You know, there’s a tradition that the father of the bride gives her away, but… well, you know. He’s not… He won’t be there. So.” Heat was rushing in her cheeks and ears which would have been convenient to blame on the sake, but a complete lie. “Would you… come with me? Give me away?”

Mr. Miyagi didn’t answer straight away, and she faltered a little.

“I know you’re already Daniel’s best man, so it’d be a bit irregular, but—”

Mr. Miyagi made a dismissive hand gesture.

“This first American wedding Miyagi go to, not suppose to know what regular or irregular. Good excuse if someone say Oh, can’t do that. But… Important for you?”

“Yes,” Amanda said, the word rushing out of her along with a breath. “Yes, it’d be… it’s important.”

“Then Miyagi honoured to give you away, Amanda-san.”

He bowed, very formal and deliberate. She bowed back in the same manner, careful to keep her eyes on his, smiling warmly.

Her heart finally at peace.

* * *

The apartment was dark and silent when she turned the key in the lock and walked in as noiselessly as she could. She hadn’t let Daniel know she was coming home. He must have gone to bed by now.

The kitchen still smelled faintly of mac and cheese when she passed by the open door.

Daniel’s go-to comfort food.

Amanda smiled fondly. Perhaps she hadn’t been the only one in need of some reassurance tonight.

The feeling was confirmed when she stopped in the bathroom to change into her night clothes. The laundry hamper had gained a couple of additions in a few hours, ie. sweatpants and a t-shirt, though the most telling was Daniel’s headband, carefully set aside to be washed by hand later. His bath towel was damp. He’d definitely been practising something more intense than slow katas and breathing exercises. Sometimes they joked that if they managed to get a bigger place – an actual house, for instance – they might include a dojo just so he wouldn’t have to clear space in the living room to work on his karate.

The shapeless lump under the covers didn’t move when she tiptoed into the bedroom, but as she slipped into bed she heard a mumbled, “Hey, honey. Didja ditch your game night for me?”

“Kinda,” Amanda whispered back, wrapping her arms around her boyfriend. “Turns out I want to spend my last night as a bachelorette with you.”

“Aw. I’m flattered. And hey, who could blame ya.”

Sleepy and slurred as his voice was, the grin in it was unmistakeable. The accent, too. The more tired, angry or emotional he was, the stronger the Jersey came out.

Amanda snorted, and made herself comfortable. It was easy. The texture of the pillowcase, the scent of fabric softener on the sheets, the solid warmth of Daniel as she curled up against him and buried her nose in his hair – it was all familiar, reassuring. None of that would change tomorrow, or next week, or next year. And the changes that would come – their joint career plans, getting a house, having kids one day – they would face or embrace together.

Daniel shifted until he had his arms around her, too.

“You okay?” he murmured.

Amanda looked at him in the dim light filtering through the blackout curtains, closed eyes barely visible through the tousled dark hair flopping across his forehead.

“Yeah.” Quiet, heartfelt. Nothing stirred in her chest except the usual affection. “You?”

“Mhm-hm. Quiet night. Glad you’re here.”

Not a word about working out through possible anxieties. Daniel hated to make people worry. It was both an endearing quality and a frustrating flaw of his.

One breath, two, three, each longer than the last before his voice came again, barely audible.

“Still on for tomorrow?”

“It’s a date,” she whispered, and he let out a silent laugh. With possibly some relief in it. Amanda was too sleepy to tell for sure.

They fell asleep intertwined, arms and legs in a tangle, like any other night.

___________

1In 1999. (of course I checked ^^’) I don’t know about now, though.

2A candy made of peanut butter fudge partially dipped in chocolate originating from Ohio.

3Aka sake.

___________

💜

Please drop a comment if you like! I’m Belphegor on AO3 and the fic is at archiveofourown.org/works/42425775, except I can’t make the link clickable because then the post probably won’t show up in the tag. (dammit, Tumblr.) I’ll put a clickable link in the replies.

#cobra kai #karate kid #fanfiction #my stuff #I have a lot of feelings about this okay

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