#which ive been avoiding because i felt guilty for disappearing from the face of the earth

[okayeojin]

🎀

[yesimwriting]

Crossing lines

General Kirigan/the darkling x reader

Summary: This was requested by my friend @vvsdiamond28 who also writes and has a really good kirigan x reader story up right now! The request was basically for a fic in which the reader is out wandering at night and runs into kirigan while he’s in the banya and then they get to talking and some other stuff before he admits to only trusting the reader and giving her his real name. This gets kinda steamy bc of the request and bc the story called for it lol but it’s not full smut bc i decided that it would be better to do that as a part 2 so that i could add some jealousy tension haha

a/n i think im back?? Ive been working on requests a lot and ive really enjoyed writing regularly again. A small side note, after rewatching revenge of the sith im kinda in the mood to try writing an anakin fic 😭 pls he was my OG fictional crush,, so either send help or a request for him or something, Anyways,, back to this fic--ahh i had fun writing it but i still feel awkward writing steamier stuff so be nice!! 

-- 

Those that wander in the night, lost in uneasy thought--there’s probably a lot that can be said about them. But I can’t think of anything to be said about me. Nothing good comes from walking around a place full of powerful and tense people in the middle of the night. It wouldn’t take much effort to interpret my actions as suspicious, and yet I continue forward. I’m an idiot--just because I can’t sleep doesn’t mean I have to wander around campgrounds. My presence is barely tolerated here, I shouldn’t try backstroking in waters I can barely tread. 

But still, I walk, eyes more fixated on the open night sky than anything else. The moon is as full as an overflowing glass, the stars twinkling as if desperate to compete with a light it will never be able to duplicate. I sigh, pressing my lips together. Maybe the stars and I have more in common than I thought. Normally, that would be a good thing. 

Letting out a weary breath, I continue forward, away from the relative safety of the main tents. I’m still on the grounds, I’m approaching the border where the tents of higher ranking officials are. That should make me more nervous, but if anything it almost eases me slightly. 

General Kirigan is not the type to be friendly, and yet our interactions have always been laced with a touch of intimacy I can’t quite explain. We’ve been alone together more and more frequently, and I think that’s how I like him best. It’s strange, but when we’re alone some of his sharpness dulls, leaving space for something I might consider humor or actual personality on anyone else. He probably speaks to many girls like that when they’re alone together--a fact I have to fight to remind myself of--but it’s the closest thing to friendship I have here. Maybe it’s foolish to hold onto that, but I can’t bring myself to release my grip on those sentiments. At least not yet, when the kind moments are still rare and fleeting and no line has been crossed. 

The danger, however, comes from the prospect of not recognizing lines before they’re crossed. Even now, as I walk aimlessly in the night, pacing in hopes of exhausting my thoughts, I’m crossing lines in a much more literal way and even these are ill defined. I must be in new territory now, and even that I can only vaguely recognize because of the strangely humid scent that surrounds this area of the grounds. 

I’m near the banya. I didn’t intend to wander here, but the thought of splashing water on my face is too tempting to pass up on. I move closer, finding a sense of peace in having some direction, even in a small way. 

When the promise of water is only steps away, I begin to regret everything. There’s a figure in the bath. I freeze, ready to attempt to shrink away in hopes of disappearing before I’m caught. This could easily turn extremely awkward even though I technically haven’t done anything. Most people don’t bathe at this hour. Who bathes this late at night? 

I keep my eyes on the individual, trying to make out who they are and how aware they are of their surroundings in the dim light. Pale skin, dark hair--unbelievably attractive torso. My eyes linger there longer than they should. I force my gaze upwards, towards their face as if that can erase my ogling. Embarrassment leaves my face burning--I’m not the ‘ogling’ type, and this person doesn’t even know I’m here. I keep my eyes on them as I step back, taking in unaware features as best I can in the dark. 

I know them--I--Saints, it’s Kirigan. 

Fantastic. Of course he has to be even more impossibly attractive while shirtless and wet. I turn my head upwards sharply, more desperate to not be caught than ever. I would never, ever recover from being caught. Whether he’d tease me or be angry with me, I don’t know. I also don’t know which option I’d prefer. 

I step back again, my gait wider due to my urgency. Snap. The sound of both a twig and my chance of a stealthy escape being shattered. I cringe, craning my neck to the left in a desperate attempt to make it clear that I wasn’t watching him. I take another desperate step, ready to duck behind a nearby tree. Maybe he hasn’t seen me--maybe he’s distracted and assumed that some kind of rabbit or something passed by. He may not actively dislike me, but I’m not sure any semblance of favor he may have for me extends to this situation.

“Y/n.” His tone reveals nothing but his level of certainty. Ignoring him will only make me seem guilty. 

I pause, keeping my gaze off of him. “Yes.” It wasn’t really a question, and yet I still answer it like one. “I was--I couldn’t sleep so I thought I’d get some air, and I was walking kind of aimlessly and I ended up here and I didn’t think anyone would be here.” Why do I feel like I’m making this situation worse? “I’m sorry--I’m gonna--I’m going to go now.” This is the kind of embarrassing moment that will come back to me when I’m trying to fall asleep at night. I know it.

“You know the polite thing to do after intruding is to make eye contact.” 

I don’t think my face has ever felt this warm before. At least he doesn’t sound angry, but his voice doesn’t reveal that much. I raise my gaze carefully, turning my head slowly. “I didn’t mean,” I exhale slowly, “It wasn’t my intention to intrude.” 

He straightens slightly at my words, exposing more of his chest. I stay still, eyes trained on his to avoid an accidental lapse. “You could make it up to me by offering conversation.” Kirigan’s tone is deliberate, his words measured and calm. I don’t speak, feeling like I’m being presented a test I don’t understand, but most of our conversations leave me feeling like that. “Only if you’re comfortable.” 

And just like that, I’m backed into a corner. A challenge. To deny him now would be to expose the effect he has on me. My chin raises a fraction of an inch as I take in that assured half-smirk. “Why wouldn’t I be comfortable?” 

Kirigan arches a dark brow, assessing my response. “Then sit,” his voice has not changed, “You want air and I want company.” 

I don’t think anyone that looks as good as he does shirtless has ever had trouble finding company, especially with the smooth way he speaks. Despite this, I step forward to accept his challenge without calling him out on his coyness. Each step is the crossing of another invisible line until I’m near the water’s edge. I make sure to keep my nightgown at a respectable length as I sit down. 

I make a point of extending my legs towards the water while leaning back so that I can’t be easily accused of being a coward. “I feel the need to warn you that I might not make particularly interesting company.”

He angles his head to the side slightly, drawing attention to his jawline and neck. I force my stare to focus on the water. “I’ve never found you uninteresting.” 

There’s something resigned in the way he says this. On instinct, I look up, taking in the slight softening of his features. The release of his usual sternness only adds to his beauty, a fact that I’m already resenting. 

“You may be the only one.” It’s not meant to be a deprecating comment, but I’m not sure my partial laugh softens my bitterness. I hope it does--I’d rather his interest than the interest of my entire unit. 

Kirigan shifts forward, the water moving with him. “Do you think that any coldness you’re experiencing has to do with you?” 

The question has me drawing my eyebrows together. What else could it be? I shrug, “I’ve considered it.” 

He nods once, eyes hardening slightly. “Do you always have trouble sleeping?” 

The personalness of the question shouldn’t surprise me as much as it does. Kirigan seems to only understand boundaries when he’s the one setting them. “Not really.” A partial lie--this time I’m glad I can’t quite bring myself to look at him. “It’s not uncommon for me, but it’s not something I deal with every night.” 

I risk shifting my eyeline when I hear the sound of water moving. Kirigan’s now resting an arm on the rim of the pool, wet skin dangerously close to my ankle and lower calf. “It’s not always easy,” his voice is low now, “Being alone with your thoughts.” 

That’s not the kind of reply I’d expect from him. I blink twice before turning to study his expression. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him seem so tired--so weary and human and in need of something. The line between his eyebrows and the far off quality of his eyes leave me with the strong desire to give whatever it is he needs to him. The urge to reach out, to touch him in hopes of breaking him free from his odd trance leaves my stomach knotted. That line is too clear to cross so recklessly.

I need to chase away the serious atmosphere he’s created. “Is that why you bathe so late at night?” I let myself smile, “To avoid thoughts?” 

“I like the peace of it.” Something akin to amusement touches his words. “And for the record, little dove,” the nickname is pointed and earns him an eyeroll, “The warm water doesn’t exactly chase away thoughts so much as encourages others.” He pauses. “You understand, considering you can barely look at me.”

This is the most embarrassing thing to have ever happened. The suggestive jilt to his words has to be intentional. Damn him. I turn my head, forcing myself to meet his gaze. “I can look at you just fine.” 

“And if I were a Heartrender and could hear your heartbeat your pulse would be normal?” The question is teasing, a small smile pulling at his lips. 

The warmth in my face increases, spreading down my neck. Kirigan’s expression remains smug. “You’re not as funny as you think you are.” 

“No?” He leans forward, angling his head so close to me I can faintly feel the warmth of his breath on my lower calf. “I find myself amusing.” 

At least being around him like this is getting easier. I open my mouth, ready to provide some sarcastic comment I haven’t thought out yet. My mouth clamps shut on instinct when I feel his touch on my ankle. The faint contact quickly grows, his fingers brushing up my ankle and calf, leaving drops of cool water across my skin.

“What are you doing?” That’s a--a fair question, right? I’m not sure, rational thought slipping from me more and more with each passing second. 

“Nothing, really,” his reply is quick. “Nervous?” 

There is no way he doesn’t know what he’s doing. I roll my eyes, fighting against my instinctual fluster. “No,” a full lie, “You’re just getting me wet.” 

“Barely.” When he’s not busy being brooding he’s not much better than an irritating child. He retracts his hand slowly, fingers grazing my skin slowly as he submerges his hand beneath the water. The loss of contact should feel like a victory. It doesn’t. “Y/n,” he shifts closer, back straightening.

There’s an odd seriousness to his demeanor that almost leaves me reeling. “Yes?” 

He beckons me forward. I hesitate, but comply, letting myself shift closer to the water’s edge. Kirgan’s lips part, but no words leave him before he moves his arm, purposefully splashing water over my thighs and bottom of my nightgown. I let out an instinctively annoyed sound. “That is getting you wet.” 

“Kirigan!” My tone is as menacing as I can make it, but he continues to grin. There’s such a lightness to the look I almost forget to be annoyed. Almost. “I should tell the entire Second Army how much of a child you are.” 

My threat does nothing, his smile softening without fading. “They fear me too much for your stories to make a difference.” He says this flatly. “All of them except you.” 

I don’t know if I’m supposed to make something of that comment. A brief moment passes in which I think his eyes come close to softening. Maybe that’s a side effect of seeing the world as you want. Wait...what do I want? Him? No, no, I can’t. 

Okay, he’s objectively attractive and sometimes I think I may see more depth in him than he wants to be capable of. But that doesn’t mean I’m allowed to want anything with him. Even if he was trustworthy enough for me to be with him in any capacity...even casually, it could never happen. Nothing good could come from having relations with the highest ranked general and I doubt he’d ever want me like that. He likes to fluster people and I’m an easy target. I just accept it because being some level of entertainment to him is better than being nothing to everyone. 

“I don’t think there’s much point in fear.” It feels like a fair answer. The fairest answer I can manage, anyways. 

He sighs, the sound heavy. His hand stretches forward cautiously. I watch him and make no attempt to stop him from touching my lower calf. His fingers trace absentmindedly across the skin. “Of course you’d think that.” 

Again, I don’t know what to make of his words. Or his actions. He couldn’t find anything wrong with me just slightly adjusting my position. It’d be a polite way to remind us both of the natural order of things. But then again, someone like him is allowed to be mad about anything. And I’m not sure I want to remind us of our place. 

Actually, I’m completely sure that I want the opposite of that. But admitting that to myself is enough of a risk. I’ve already crossed thousands of tiny lines and what I want will require us to cross a thousand more. 

“I’m a little surprised you’re not reminding me how foolish a notion like that can be.” 

He lets out a tiny breath as he shifts even closer to me. “Maybe I’m enjoying your foolishness.” 

“I’m not sure if I should take that as a compliment or the opposite.” 

The slightest hint of a smile is visible to me beneath the moon’s glow. There’s something about darkness that adds beauty to things. I wait for him to reply, but instead of speaking his  hand moves further up my leg. I struggle to hide my reaction to his long fingers trailing up my skin.

He’s touched me before, sure. Tiny moments in which he’d push a strand of hair out of my face or wipe at a bit of dirt on my cheekbone. More recently, he had gripped my hip firmly to guide me through a crowd of soldiers. He had been in a hurry, stealing me from a conversation with the only member of my unit that’s been somewhat friendly to me. It wasn’t serious--he had just been rushing me because he only had a minute between meetings and apparently he had too long of a day to not take a moment to speak with me. 

“Are you alright, Dovey?” Normally, the nickname and all of its variations earns him an eyeroll. But everything is a lot less humorous with his hand half up my lower leg, leaving a trail of cool water wherever he touches. 

His fingers press more firmly into my skin. “Yes, I’m fine--it’s just late.” 

“Hm…” Kirigan breathes before tilting his head slightly. “You’re warm.” I stay silent as his hand shifts slightly. “Perhaps too warm.” 

If I’m hot that has absolutely nothing to do with fever. “I’m fine, General, I promise.” 

“Come closer,” he says, “It’ll take me no time to check.” 

...A little too convenient. My nightgown is still embarrassingly damp from the last time I eased tonight. “Please tell me you don’t find me that naive.” 

“Naive? No.” He lifts his hand slightly. “Warm? Yes.” I still don’t trust him. “I’m not going to do anything. I promise.” 

His eyes are dark and the limited lighting of the moon doesn’t offer me much in my analysis, but what I can see makes him seem genuine. “Why do I feel like that’s not the first time you’ve had to say that?” Despite my comment, I move towards him. 

The back of Kirigan’s palm is pressed to my forehead for less than a second. He brushes his hand down the side of my temple, rotating his wrist so that his fingertips can touch my cheek. His hand then continues to move down my jawline and then my neck...and then finally trails down my collarbone. I bite my tongue to avoid exhaling audibly at the contact. 

“Warm,” he concludes with a tsk, and yet he doesn’t withdraw his hand. “Though that could just have to do with the climate.” His thumb slips beneath the sleeve of my nightgown. “Perhaps you could benefit from joining me.” 

I bite my tongue to avoid letting out a surprised, embarrassingly enthusiastic squeak. I don’t know what’s gotten into him...maybe it’s the night air and the prospect of being fully alone. I should be strong enough to break whatever spell he’s starting to place on me. But I’m not. I’m really, really not. 

He pulls on the sleeve of my nightgown slightly. “I’m…” 

“Unless you’re nervous?” Another damn challenge. To shy away from this would be to expose myself. He tugs on the sleeve a little more assuredly, exposing my shoulder to the humid night. “Do I make you nervous?” 

His voice comes out a shallow rasp. I feel it straight in my core. “...Not more than you should.” 

“More than I should?” 

Ugh--too honest. I let myself get distracted. It shouldn’t be too difficult to explain what I meant. He knows he’s feared. He wants to be feared. “I’m sure we’re both aware that there are a fair amount of cautionary tales revolving around you.” 

His hand falls next to my lap. Oh? I didn’t expect to miss the contact between us so much. His expression seems to have fallen slightly as well. Was it my response to his question? It felt fair and straightforward without being too blunt. “And you believe every cautionary tale you hear?” 

There’s something stiff about the way he asks the question. His moodiness is making me miss his touchiness even more. At least then I didn’t have to feel like I made a mistake. Did I say something wrong? “Should I?”

“It depends on whether or not you plan on being brave.” 

“I told you...I don’t see much point in fear.” 

“And yet you’re still there.” A bit of humor returns to his voice. “Why is that?” 

Rolling my eyes, I shift forward, letting my legs dip into the water. This is as far as I should let this go. I’ve already lost too much more control. “Better?” He’s strangely tense again, a hint of something bitter playing at the smug look he tries for. “You alright?”

“Of course you’d ask me that.” He says this with a tired sigh. “You can never make things easy.” 

“I don’t understand.” 

He shifts backwards slightly. I can feel the distance between us like I’d feel a pebble in my shoe. “Do you believe all the stories about me?” 

Is he still bothered by that? “I didn’t mean it as literally as you’re taking it. All I meant is that people are intimidated by you, but that’s not a bad thing. It’s the way things have to be, you’re the only Shadow Summoner in existence and the army needs you to be intimidating so that they can act on your guidance.”

“The way things have to be,” he echoes, his voice strangely weighted. “There’s a specific kind of loneliness that comes with being feared by everyone.” 

Oh--I don’t know what I expected, but it wasn’t that. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him feel defeated like that. I reach for his hand without thinking, pulling his fingers towards my lap. “I don’t--I’m not scared of you.” It’s a weak attempt to comfort him, but it’s the only one I can think of. “That probably doesn’t mean anything, but I--” 

His hand turns in my lap, squeezing the exposed part of my thigh. “It means something.” Kirigan’s voice has hardened in a different way. “You’re the only person I’m certain of.” 

Everything in me seems to tighten at that. At the implication of something so personal from someone so closed off. “Kirigan, you don’t have to be as alone as you feel. You talk to me all the time and you do so in a way that makes it easy to forget the cautionary tales.” His hand moves further up my thigh. I fight as I try to remember our usual dynamic. “You’re the only one that talks to me like that.” 

“Have you ever considered that maybe the others refuse to take to you because of the favor I’ve shown you? The instinct to stay away from me is strong enough to extend to those around me.” Kirigan’s hand moves higher up my thigh. “To be near me is to involve solitude.” 

“I don’t care.” The answer leaves me too quickly. “Being near you is worth it.” 

He leans closer before resting his chin on my knee with no hesitation. “Careful, you don’t understand the line you tread.” Kirigan places his hand more firmly between my thighs. “Or perhaps you do...perhaps you know what you want to cross.” 

This time I can’t help the airy sigh that leaves me. Kirigan pushes against my thigh slightly, separating my legs. I feel his breath on my inner thigh before I know what’s going on. I can’t move, I can’t think, I can’t even breathe. That inability to do anything but feel my heart pound against my chest only worsens as I feel his lips press into the inside of my thigh. His lips trail up my skin before his teeth gently sink into the top of my thigh. 

“Is the line you want to cross?” He breathes the question so softly I feel like I’m being coddled. Everything in me feels too hot to think of any kind of coherent response. Kirigan uses his free hand to pull the fabric of my nightgown as high up my thighs as he can from his position below me. “Or maybe this is the line you want to cross?” Kirigan pulls me forward so suddenly I let out a tiny gasp. I’m not fully on the edge of the banya. “Or perhaps this one?” He kisses the skin of my inner thigh gently. Each time I exhale too loudly, his teeth graze my skin. He gets harsher with each passing second. “Lay down.” 

My body listens to him on instinct. How is this happening? How am I this powerless to fight against something that’s so clearly wrong? The sound of water shifting causes my entire body to tense. He’s pulled himself out of the water. Kirigan moves above me instantly, water dripping from his toned chest and dark hair and onto my still damp nightgown. 

Before I can speak, he’s on me completely, his lips pressing against my jaw. He kisses down my neck, his teeth grazing against my skin sporadically. He pulls away from me by tracing his tongue across my collar bone. I let out something dangerously close to a moan. “Such pretty, little sounds.” 

“Kirigan--” 

“The only name I want you to hear from your lips is the only name that I’ve not given myself. The only name that holds meaning to me.” 

His lips graze where my skin meets the hem of my now soaked through nightgown. I’m not sure the poor lighting is offering me enough coverage now. There’s no way the thin fabric leaves much to the imagination while being this wet. He kisses up my chest and neck until his lips reach the shell of my ear. 

“Aleksander.” The name is grace in the form of a breath so soft it’s more like I’m feeling the name than actually hearing it. 

He presses his lips against the spot on my neck directly beneath my ear. I exhale into the contact. “Aleksander.” As I test his true name on my tongue, his teeth dig into my skin much more harshly than before. 

I let out a partial squeak at the sudden shift in pace as his hands grip my waist. “Say it again. Say my name again.”

He traces his tongue gingerly over the skin he just aggravated with his teeth before I can speak. The soothing sensation is so much I can barely find my voice. “Aleksander.” 

His hand bunches the bottom of my nightgown, raising the fabric to my hips. “...Say it just like that.” Kirgan’s rough hand slips between the bone of my hip and the fabric of my hip. “Like I’m the only one that knows you like this.”

“Aleksander.” I breathe as he traces invisible patterns into my skin with his lips. “Aleksander.” Each use of his name earns me extra attention--a stronger hold on my hip, a more adamant nip at the base of my neck. I feel my need for him so heavily I swear it’s leaked into my bones. “Aleksander.”

When he pulls away, I fight the urge to whine. The night is still humid, but with the absence of his touch I feel like I’m shivering. He regards me silently for a long moment before shifting his weight again. I feel my heart stall in my chest as his hand softly brushes a strand of hair out of my face. He lets his hand linger there, at the apple of my cheek. The entire world seems to stall as he leans down, his hand cupping the side of my face as his mouth inches closer to mine. 

“I can feel the fluttering of your heart.” 

Any poor defense dies in my throat as his lips meet mine. He gives me no time to think about what’s happening as he presses into me even harder. Kirigan holds my face as his teeth graze against my bottom lip. My mouth opens slightly in surprise, giving him the opportunity he needs to slip his tongue into my mouth. His tongue slowly brushes against mine, coaxing me into total, delirious, compliance. When he starts to pull away, I react, my hands flying forward to grab his hair. He lets me get away with tugging him towards me, prolonging the kiss as he bites my bottom lip. 

One of his hands leaves my face and travels up the hands holding onto his hair. He pulls me off of him easily, pinning both of my wrists above my head with one hand. “Easy,” Kirigan warns, “You’ve been such a good girl, let’s not ruin it before we’ve started.” 

A tiny sigh leaves me. I can feel the pride he takes in that as his hand trails further down my body. His fingers ghost along the hem of my underwear teasingly. 

“Is someone there?” I’ve never damned the voice of a stranger more. 

Panic and dread roll in my stomach. I’m going to get caught like this, with my nightgown bunched at my hips beneath the General Kirigan. An unclothed, wet, General Kirigan. “I’m bathing.” 

Okay...good...Aleksander spoke. Anyone with common sense would run at the thought of invading on Kirgan’s privacy. It’s a good thing that the soldier had the sense to linger behind a thicket of bushes. “Pardon General, but there’s been a crucial development. A new strategy should be thought of as soon as possible.” 

No. No. The thought of losing contact so entirely, of having a moment that should have never happened be ripped from me before it’s even really happened is overwhelming. I feel my lips pull into a pout. Kirigan’s hand adjusts on me, his thumb pressing teasingly over where I’m neediest. I bite my tongue to avoid making an inappropriate noise. 

“Five minutes--I’ll be in the strategy tent in five minutes.” 

“I’ll tell the others, General.”

Great. I hear the stranger disappear, his feet crushing twigs and grass as he leaves us. Aleksander’s attention returns to me quickly. Disappointment swells in my chest as I take in the solemn look that crosses his features. His hand moves to my chin quickly before pulling me into another deep kiss. It’s too short lived. 

“I have to go.” 

Frowning, I lift my hand to trace my fingers up his arm. It’s softer than I should allow myself to be, but it doesn’t really matter anymore. Not when this is probably never going to happen again. “Do you?” I mumble to myself, half joking.

He sighs once, his thumb brushing against my cheek. “No pouting.” 

Now that whatever little bubble we were in has popped, I’m capable of normal feelings. Including shame. “I am n--” 

“Easy, little dove, I’ll remember all of this when I find you again.” 

This...this is going to happen again? “You’re going to find me?” 

“I haven’t yet heard your voice crack on my name as I undo you.” He punctuates the promise with a kiss to my jaw. “Again.” Another kiss. “And again.” Another brush of his lips as he finally pulls away. “And again.” 

My breath catches itself in my throat as he moves off of me entirely. Damn whatever change in the war that’s pulled him away from me so suddenly. I sit up as he stands. I’m not sure where to look now that he’s not in close enough proximity to cloud my thoughts. I should leave as he dresses, but I can’t quite bring myself to. It doesn’t feel safe, not when the man that interrupted us could reappear at any moment. Not when I want to hold onto his presence like this as long as possible. 

 He squeezes my shoulder warmly as he passes before bending down to press one more kiss next to where his hand is. 

“Soon,” he promises again. 

--

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[writingsfromhome]

Bad Timing IV

A/N: To all the soft hearted crybabies requesting it: here’s part 4 to dry your tears from part 3. Thanks for all the interaction with this series, you guys are the best! <3<3<3<3

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4

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I take my coffee to the little patio in the backyard of my childhood home, breathing deeply. It was a couple weeks since the traumatic incident at the bank, the one where I nearly died and found a way to live again. The higher ups practically begged me to take paid leave, I had a feeling they just didn’t want me to take anything to court. I’d told them I would take the month, and knew I would hand in my resignation thereafter. I enjoyed my job as much as the next person but it was too much for me. It felt like closing a door on a chapter of my life that I wanted to move on from.

And now, I could truly relax, I wasn’t running away from anything for the first time in my life. After everything that happened in that small restroom at the back of the bank, Harry and I came to a peace. And I’d only moved on from there.

“You’re up early,” my dad comes into view, a cup of tea in hand. “Your flight doesn’t leave until tonight right?”

“Yeah, just thought I would appreciate the views before I go back to a city,” I move my feet off the chair so he could sit.

“You can come here anytime.”

“I know,” I wrap my hands around my mug. “Coming here it just...reminds me of mum. And it’s hard...”

“This is how I stay connected to her,” he pats the table between us. “She loved this place, her garden and those darn birds she fed all the time.”

“You feed them now,” I look to the birdfeeder filled lovingly to the brim with seeds.

“I do it because...” he says quietly. “It’s what she would want.”

I think about my mum, what she would want. It hurt when I thought about how she left me, married and happy in love. And then how much hurt I went through, always wishing she was there. In some way I know she knew--wherever she was. But I wish I could hear her, I wish I could have a love like she had.

“So, when do I get to meet this new boy of yours?” My dad asks.

“Dad, you know his name’s Alec.”

“I would if I met him, put a face to the name.”

I roll my eyes, my dad was a bit overprotective after everything that’s happened in my life. I think he felt guilty in a small way, him and Harry always got on--we teased them about their bromance. He was just as blindsided as me. But I’d told my dad everything that happened the first night I came over. He hadn’t judged, just listened, hugged me tightly, and left to make me a cup of tea. That was the most expressive my dad got.

After Alec took me back from from the hospital, I asked him to stay. And he had stayed since, making it official from casual to dating. It was scary but life was too short to hold back I had learned. I had to hold onto a good thing when I had one.

As for Harry, he hadn’t called me since that day he visited me. I’d left him a couple texts--when I was discharged home, and again to ask him how he was doing a week later. He’d sent a thumbs up and that was it. I thought we were okay, but he blew me off even when I tried to call him. It hurt a little, but I’d been so busy packing and getting on, that I let him be for now. I would wait until after visiting my sister to find out where his head was at.

H’s POV

It’s been nearly a month since I walked out of Y/N’s hospital room, and we’d just about tied all the lose ends from the case. The only thing about it all that lingered on my mind was Y/N. I missed her more than I had all these years apart, but I sat in the ache of wanting. It was time I catch up to the consequences of my past actions. I turned to writing, starting again after years of thinking I no longer had a passion for it. It felt freeing.

She’d texted me, called me too. I tried not to respond even though everything in me wanted to pick up the phone and ask her out to dinner, invite her over for a movie, ask her if she wanted to take my car and drive out somewhere like we used to after exams in uni. But I let her be, imagining that she was happy somewhere. With Alec, or whoever she wanted to be with.

The last thing I expect, is for her to be standing outside my station late Thursday night.

“Y/N?” I almost don’t recognise her. Gone was her stern bun and smart suit. Strands of her hair frame her face, like a piece of art on display. She has on a loose jumper and tights, a bum bag strapped across her chest that she roots through for something.

“Harry!” she drops her hands. “I’ve only been waiting here for...20 minutes, when your receptionist said your shift ended?”

“I had to finish up some paperwork. Why didn’t you call me?.”

“It’s not like you would’ve answered.” her hands on her hips, attitude dripping from every inch of her. “You’ve been avoiding me.”

“You look different,” I dodge the topic.

“I know,” she zips up her bag. “I had the month off, officially resigned today. I have absolutely nowhere to be. So I’m looking the part.”

“It looks good,” I say truthfully. She looked relaxed, like the Y/N I used to know. “You quit your job?”

“I had enough of that bank,” she shrugs. “I went to see my dad for a bit, and visited my sister. She’s doing well.”

“Ah,” I was glad she’d taken a break. She was glowing. “Seriously Y/N, you look really good.”

“You,” she points her finger at me. “Are not allowed to say things like that after ghosting me. I thought we...came to an understanding. You left me again.”

I open my mouth to say something, but her words hit me. She was right, I’d left her again. Fuck.

“Yeah,” she crosses her arms when I go speechless. “You admitted to your mistakes, apologized, and then left me. How do you think that’s made me feel?”

“I thought it was best if I left you alone,” I walk out of the way from the entrance and she follows me to my car, parked in the lot. “I just wanted to give you space--a chance at being happy.”

She scoffs, leaning against the driver’s side door. “Thought it was best for who, Harry? Who are you to define my happiness? It would’ve been nice just to hear you were doing okay!”

“I’m sorry!” I stumble for another excuse but I come up with none. “The truth is, seeing you with Alec that day I...it was hard for me. I couldn’t be around you like that.”

“What’s that mean?”

“I...” I look at her, looking at me expectantly. She was a woman with an agenda, she had come here looking for answers and wasn’t going to leave until I gave them to her. “I want you to be happy, all that shite. You can’t do that with me around. And it’s hard for me seeing you with someone else...I can’t stand to be in your life like that. Where I’m just...your ex.”

“So you’re saying, it took me nearly dying for you to realize?” Her eyebrow quirks up.

“In a way,” I huff. “It just, took me being around you to remember what I left, when we ended things. It also made me realize the mess I left behind-”

“Don’t you dare feel sorry for yourself,” she calls me out like nobody else could. It makes me laugh nervously and she takes it the wrong way. “Don’t laugh, I’m serious! I’ve felt sorry enough for the both of us for years. And maybe Y/N from a month ago would’ve wanted you to suffer a little bit, but not anymore. This last month...I’ve just felt so free and happy Harry. I get what you mean now, I get it. And I’m alright.”

“That’s great, I’m happy for you Y/N.”

“Yeah, I mean I get it, but you did go about it in the worst possible way-”

“I know.”

“I’m not done,” she pushes my shoulder. “Anyway, just because you did some shitty stuff, you don’t deserve to suffer okay? Move on. Onward. Not backwards.”

I’m taken aback again when she pushes herself off my car and wraps her arms around my shoulders. I slowly envelop her into me, savoring the feel of holding her even if it’s just for a moment.

“You deserve happiness,” she says in my ear. “If that means ghosting me, I won’t fight it. You just...have to let me know.”

“That’s not called ghosting,” I say as she separates herself from me. I want to pull her back but I stuff my hands in my pockets.

“Potato potato,” she waves her hand. “I should go. Just...take care of yourself Harry.”

Y POV (1 year later):

“That’s wonderful news,” I smile at my client who gathers their materials back into their portfolio. “I’ll have my assistant forward the contract over tonight. I look forward to working with your team.”

I shake hands and watch them leave the room before collapsing into my chair. I knew starting your own business was hard, but this last year was a bumpy road. I’d started my own consultation business, and only had two clients. This was my first big-deal contract I’d signed; I was promised two whole years with this team!

I reach for my phone to tell Alec, but I remember we weren’t talking. Well, I wasn’t speaking to him--he’d told me last night before my big meeting that he’d been offered a promotion at work. But the catch was it was in the Edinburgh offices “which works out perfectly for us! Your sister lives there, we can visit them often...what do you think?”

I’d been so angry then. Firstly, he’d sprung the news on me the night before a big day, and second he’d already made the decision for us. I was so angry I’d just gone quiet, and told him I had a big meeting the next morning.

My fingers itch though, to tell someone. My fingers hover over Harry’s name.

Every since I confronted him last year at work, he disappeared again but not completely. He texted me a few times, once on my birthday, another during a heat wave in the city asking me if I wanted to grab drinks. I wasn’t available and he hadn’t really texted me since. I knew he was a phone call away, and he knew the same of me. Yet neither of us ever picked up the phone to call each other. I wasn’t sure why, but we were still giving each other space.

Well fuck it, I think. I call him and he picks up on the fourth ring.

“Y/N?”

“Hey, are you busy?”

“Uh no--hold up, wait. Not you...Sorry Y/N give me a second.”

I bite my lip, he could be at work, I should’ve texted him.

“Hey,” Harry’s tone is different now, softer and the background noises quiet to almost nothing. “Sorry it was so loud in there, we’re celebrating a birthday--Serena, the receptionist you remember?”

“Oh yeah,” I have a vague picture of her in my head. “Don’t let me keep you from the festivities-”

“Why did you call? S’no big deal, I’m not a big cake person anyway.”

“Ooh, cake? Eat a slice for me, I don’t get enough sweets living with a health nut...” I trail off realizing who I was talking to.

“I’ll save you one if you swing by?” Harry suggests after a beat of awkward silence. Another second passes as I consider what he’s asking: he wanted to see me.

“Uh, okay! You don’t have to ask me twice,” I grin, a strange bubble of excitement making it’s way through me. “My office is actually not too far from your station. I’ll walk it.”

“Your office? Where are you these days?” Harry asks as I slip my bag over my body and head out the door. I was exactly an 8 minute walk from his station--I’d mapped it when I found the place cheap online.

“I’m renting a whole office! It’s all very professional--I mean it’s like, one and a half rooms..oh and I have to share the toilets with the whole floor-”

“That’s good, so there’s no way you’ll be caught dead in there if you’re sharing it with the floor,” I hear the laugh in his voice.

“That’s a very insensitive thing to say,” I scold him.

“It’s been a year, c’mon Y/N.”

“We almost died!”

“We weren’t going to die. You’re alive right now!”

“Thanks to a really bad detective and a toilet seat,” I say and relish at the sound of Harry’s laugh on the other end of the line.

“That’s not how you thank someone who saved your life,” Harry finally says when he’s done laughing.

“You didn’t save my life, I was never going to die in the first place remember?”

“Touche,” he laughs. “Get over here faster, I want to see your face.”

“I’m trying!” I speed up. The background noise grows louder on his side again and he apologises. “S’alright. Anyway I just called cuz I had good news and nobody to share it with immediately.”

“Tell me.”

“Long story short, I started my own consulting firm! Finance advice--stuff like that, and I signed my first long-term contract! With an actual client not just for like, a project! I’m-” I squeal, I couldn’t help it. “It’s such a big deal for me I’ve been struggling just breaking ever since I started up.”

“Y/N I’m getting you the whole bloody cake for that,” Harry says. I finally turn the corner to his station, nearly jogging at this point.

“Only if Serena doesn’t mind.” I joke.

“In that dress, who would mind,” he says. I pause on the street, he could see me. I squint but he’s nowhere in sight. And then there, he steps out from the steps and waves. I don’t bother taming the smile on my face and neither does he.

“I see you Detective,” I shout.

“I saw you first!” He shouts.

In an instant we’re rushing towards each other, bodies crashing as I wrap my arms around his neck and squeeze hard. It felt like a reunion.

“How did we go this long without seeing each other,” I say when we pull apart. “I’ve actually missed you.” With the closure between us and no baggage weighing our memories down, I’d actually begun to feel nostalgic about Harry every time I thought about us--usually the friendship, not quite the marriage.

“I don’t know,” Harry pulls me close to him again. “I think we gave each other too much space this time around. We’ve got to find a better middleground.”

“I think we’re standing on it.” I joke.

“Hey, Styles!” A voice calls from the entrance. “Stop snogging your girl and come back in here. Serena’s wondering why you’re running away from her big day.”

“I’m not snogging anybody,” Harry calls back. “And I’ll be there in a minute.”

“Bring her with ya, we’ve got plenty of cake!”

Harry looks down at me and I raise an eyebrow. “You think they’ll let me have more than a slice?”

“I’m their commanding officer, I can tell them to let you have as many as you want.”

“Lead the way,” I grin, half excited to see Harry and half excited for the baked goods. Harry grabs my hand and leads me in. Unfortunately, enough people recognize me from the bank heist that Harry has to explain we’ve known each other for a while. Fortunately, enough people remember me to ply me with sweets to make up for Harry screwing up my case. I have zero complaints and celebrate the day with free cake.

H’s POV

My phone vibrates with Y/N’s text, she was here for lunch. Ever since she called me a couple weeks ago and we decided we couldn’t live without staying in contact, we tried to pop over for lunch whenever we could. It felt like old times. Being Y/N’s friend again was what I was missing out on. I was finally living the version of my life that felt right. I had a bounce in my step, I felt happy when I woke up. Even my officers teased me, trying to allude that I was getting some until I threatened them with paperwork. But I was brighter at work too.

I text Y/N that I would be a few minutes more, and when I finally go into the lobby to meet her she’s having a conversation with Serena.

“Man of the hour,” Serena says as I walk up. “Your girl’s here.”

“I can see that, thank you.” Serena insisted on calling Y/N that despite telling her multiple times we weren’t together.

“Serena was just telling me all the wild things she got up to for her sixty-fifth,” Y/N winks at Serena. I didn’t want to be part of that conversation so I drag her by the arm out of the station.

We walk in silence towards a small sandwich shop around the corner from us. I grab her swinging hand to catch her attention, and she gives me a small smile before turning away. But she keeps her hand in mine.

She’s unusually quiet, and I wait until after we’ve ordered to broach the subject. Before I could, she blurts out: “Alec's got to give his final answer today.” I nearly choke on my sandwich. She’s told me her predicament last week when I noticed she looked upset and wouldn’t let her be until she told me. I was gutted, but it didn’t seem like she wanted to go.

“I...that means, hm.” I gather my thoughts--and all my emotions too. “Have you decided if you’re...moving with him?”

“I dunno, this is an amazing job offer. I could be closer to my sister too but...I just don’t know. My life’s in London, my new practice too. How can I leave it all?”

“That’s tricky,” I say even though deep inside I was relieved it sounded like she wasn’t going. “Couldn’t you just move your practice there? Travel to London when you had meetings? You could always stay with me if you needed.”

She huffs, there was more she wanted to say but she keeps it in. I push her to open up. “It’s just, he sprang this on me a couple weeks ago and he just expected me to follow him. I love him, I do. But that’s asking a lot! It’s only been a year or so, and it’s nice to know he’s serious enough about me to want me to go with him. I just...”

“And we only just reconnected again,” I try to sound lighthearted but when she looks at me I can tell she knows I feel more than I’m letting on.

“Can you imagine?” She raises her eyebrow. “If I told him I’m staying because I just reconnected again with my ex...��

“Ex-husband makes us sound older than we are.”

“We are old,” she puts her sandwich down and sighs. “You wear orthopedic shoes Harry.”

“I won’t take offense to that,” I look down at my shoes. They were comfortable on the job. “So...I’m not factored into your decision at all? Whether you want to stay or not?”

I see the emotion in her eyes; she was conflicted. “I dunno,” she finally says.

“Don’t let me hold you back,” I say even though I wanted to beg her to stay. “You love him right? Maybe you should...”

She stares ahead, her face falling. I knew Y/N’s face before a cry, so I reach my hand out and clasp hers over the table. She squeezes my hand once before removing it, I felt like I did something wrong.

“Anyway,” her face brightens up again, though the look in her eyes stays. “I watched that new movie you recommended and it was awful...”

She changes the subject swiftly, and I don’t object. I didn’t know how to tell her to stay without being selfish, and I didn’t know how to tell her it was okay to go and act like I was telling her the truth.

But near the end of my shift, the evening receptionist buzzes me she was letting my girlfriend through. I don’t bother correcting her.

“Hey Y/N!” one of my officers calls out to her when she walks into the floor. “We’re all planning on throwing you a party.”

“For what?” She stops by his desk. I notice Detective Cole eyeing her, before joining in.

“He actually has a life now, he’s usually a lot more bossy with us.”

Y/N turns to me, eyebrow raised. “I’m afraid the party’s a little premature. But I’d never say no to cake.”

My heart sinks, she was going. I watch her walk towards me and she notices my expression, the smile is gone from her face by the time she reaches me.

“I told Alec I would try it out, 6 months. See how it goes...I can see my sister more often, help her out with my niece...” It sounds like she’s coming up with excuses to justify herself to me.

“That’s...” my words get stuck in my throat, the lie was too big to get out. “Your sister will love that.” I settle with. I take her hand and walk her out to a more private hallway. “When do you leave.”

“Two weeks,” she bites her lip. “I-I’m gonna miss you Harry. We just got into a flow and-”

“We’ll still talk.” I pull her in, I couldn’t bear to watch her face fall apart in front of me. And I didn’t want her to see my own face crumbling. I tuck her under my chin, “We’ve got phones, and you’ll be in London sometimes for work right? We won’t be like before, we’ll still talk.”

I know she can feel my heart racing, and I want her to know what she was doing to me because my mouth can’t seem to tell her. I hold her for a little longer, and when she goes, I know my unit won’t be throwing any parties for her in a while.

Three Months Later:

I’m in bum mode by 8pm that Friday. I’d had a long week, a tough case with no breaks and finally had an evening off so I changed into sweats the second I got home, taken a hot shower and washed the week off.

The knock on the door surprises me. The peephole doesn’t distinguish who’s outside, a hood covering their face. I decide to open the door, to find a teary Y/N hundreds of miles from home.

“Y/N-”

“I wanted you to tell me to stay.” she says to me immediately. Her tears continue dripping onto her cheeks. I stare in confusion, wondering for a moment if my lack of sleep had caused me to hallucinate her.

“Wha-”

“When I told you about the move...you told me I should go. I wanted you to tell me to stay Harry! I thought you would’ve told me to stay.”

I move aside silently, so we weren’t having a conversation where my neighbours could hear.

“How was I supposed to know that?”

“I don’t know!” she throws her bag, coat, and phone down on the floor in a heap. “You just were! I thought when I told you, you would say-”

“I didn’t want to tell you what to do with your life based on what I wanted! I thought I already established that!” Suddenly we’re arguing.

“You never had an issue before!”

“Well look where it lead us,” I move away from the door and back to where I was previously relaxing on the couch.

“A country apart!” She’s hot on my heels. “Didn’t you want me to stay?”

Some part of me is still completely confused what was going on, but Y/N’s fiery frustration overflows into my cup and an invisible force pours it down my throat.

“Yes. Yeah! Of course I wanted you to stay!”

“So why didn’t you say that?” She cries.

“I was trying not to be selfish!”

“Well you just pick the worst times to be selfish!”

“I never said I was good with my timing.” I mumble.

“Don’t treat me like-like some fragile porcelain Harry!” Y/N gets right into my face. “I’m not! I’m different, I’ve grown from that fragile place. I don’t need you walking on eggshells around me, I just want you to be honest!”

“When am I not honest?” I shout back.

“You haven’t been honest with me for months! Just say what you feel Harry, stop bloody holding back all the time! I just want the real you!”

“Fine!” I explode. “I love you Y/N! I love you so much it physically hurts me to be near you and not be able to hold you. I want to be able to kiss you like I used to, I want to go back in time and warn myself to get it right! I want to tell you how amazing you are and how sorry I am every day. I can’t! We’ve both got our own lives! I’m not being dishonest I just don’t want to fuck with your life again! I’ve accepted that I’m nothing more than an ex and your best friend!”

That stops her in her tracks. Her chest heaves as she swipes at her cheeks, and then she pushes her hands into my chest. I stumble but catch myself. She pushes me again, big tears rolling down her cheeks, and I stumble onto the couch. She turns and paces to the door and back.

“What are you even doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be in Edinburgh?” I finally ask the question I should’ve asked the second I saw her.

“Sure,” she throws herself onto the seat next to me and buries her face in her hands. “I...I didn’t want to be there. I just had to leave, and I couldn’t stand my sister going on about what a catch Alec was. How I should feel lucky. I had to get away. I never should’ve left London...I just thought maybe Alec was my chance at a fresh happy future, and you told me to go so I thought you didn’t want me to stay. But I fucked up there too, and I just had to go. And I came here with nowhere else--I can’t even live in my own home for three more months...”

She trails off. It was a lot of information to process. I don’t know how long we stay on the couch like that, a foot apart in silence.

“Everyone I know will probably think I’m just an idiot for coming here of all places, but this was the only place that made sense because I--Harry I think I...” She glances at me. “I...”

“I know,” I say after she struggles to say what she wanted to say. But I knew.

“But I feel so guilty, I’m doing to him what you did to me...it’s not fair.”

I didn’t think about it like that, I realise. But this situation was more complicated than that, I tell her. We had history, she’d moved to a whole new country for him, he must know somewhere Y/N didn’t actually want to move. But the parallels between her situation and ours are clear as day. I don’t know what to say.

“Stay the night,” I put a hand on her thigh. She doesn’t move it off. “Get some sleep, when you wake up tomorrow, make your decision. You know how I feel...and you know how you feel.”

“You’re right,” she lays her hand on top of mine. I thread my fingers through hers and hold on. Her puppy eyes tear me apart, I want to gather her in my arms and kiss her misery away. But I don’t want to add to her guilt.

“Let me get you something to eat, you’re probably hungry.” holding her hand was getting painful. I leave her alone in the living room, so she could collect herself. If someone told Harry three years ago this was where I would end up, he would’ve laughed in their face.

Y POV:

I couldn’t believe I did that, I think as I sit on the 5 hour ride back to Edinburgh. I felt untethered yesterday, after arguing with Alec all week because I was just miserable when I wasn’t in London. My sister’s pressure to be happy with what I had, I felt like I had no one to turn to who would understand me. And that had driven me into Harry’s arms, the train ride there fueling my frustration and anger. It had accidentally exploded in Harry’s direction when I got to his place but I was glad for it. He’d told me how he felt. And it was complicated as hell for me but somewhere deep inside, I knew where this was leading.

When I get back home to a worried Alec, we sit down and have a hard conversation. It breaks my heart leaving him, but after one last night together I pack most of my things and head to my sisters. The irony isn’t lost of me, hers was exactly where I went to when Harry and I split.

My sister tries to be supportive but I by the time the three months are over, I feel suffocated with her overprotective nature, and the full house she lived in.

“You’re just going to do what you want to do aren’t you?” She asks the day she drops me back off to the station. I’d spent the rest of the three months at hers--I couldn’t go back home to my house anyway and something about going back to London for another man felt wrong. I’d seen Alec a few times in those months. The last time was last night, we’d shared a few drinks and maybe some kisses. But it was a final goodbye last night, heavy but final.

“I don’t want to be a bad person,” I say. “I just don’t want to feel stuck somewhere because I feel bad.”

“You’re not a bad person,” my sister brushes my hair behind my shoulder as she hugs me tight. “I love you. Mum would be so proud of you for following your heart, you always did play it too safe.”

“I guess my rebellious phase just came a little late.”

“Ever since you met that Harry guy, you quit your stable job and haven’t been the same since,” she wags her finger at me like a stern maternal figure. She breaks character when she laughs and hugs me again. “M’gonna miss having you here. The kids loved having their aunt around.”

“I’m sure they’re happier having their play room back.” I joke to cover up how sad I felt leaving them too. Even though most days felt like we were walking all over each other, it felt like growing up in our small childhood home again; a nice reset before I headed back to London.

The train ride goes by quickly, and I settle back into my home over the weekend, getting my furniture out of storage and cleaning up after the last tenants. I’d been gone only 6 months but the second I walked through the door, I knew I was home again.

Letting Harry know I was back makes me nervous so I put it off for the week. I show up at his flat the following Saturday, wringing my hands as I wait for him to answer. I didn’t even know if he was home.

“Y/N,” a shocked voice says as I turn to walk away. Harry studies me as I stand awkwardly in his hall. “You’re back.”

I hear what he doesn’t say: you never called me after you showed up three months ago. and what happened to you?

“Hey,” I brush past him into his flat, fiddling with my jacket as he locks the door. “I’m back in London.”

“I can see that.” He eyes me. “Alone?” He asks, and again I hear the words he doesn’t say.

“Alone,” I smile. “I just needed...time to figure things out. I’ve been staying with my sister.”

“Full house?” He says, knowing it before I had to say it.

“So full,” I laugh, and just like that everything is okay. He takes my jacket from me and hangs it in his closet, like he knew I was going to stay a while. “There were too many mornings when I woke up to my niece just staring at me, waiting for me to wake.”

“Aw, they must miss you now.”

“Yeah,” I follow him through to his living room. I remember the last time I was here, sort of embarrassing looking back. “I was missing London though. And...you.”

He looks up. “Are you-”

“Harry,” I swallow what I need to say. His gaze is laser-sharp and it’s slightly intimidating to admit something like this. I’d given my heart to him before, and here I was giving it again after I’d spent years healing from what he did to it. It felt right, but also foolish. I guess love would always feel a little foolish.

“Y/N,” he says after I don’t say anything.

“So,” I walk up to where he stands near the window, the afternoon sun illuminates his handsome face. I reach up to touch it, no longer able to keep my hands to myself when he was so close. My breath catches as he closes his eyes against my palm, his lashes casting shadows on his cheeks.

“Y/N,” he keeps his eyes closed, like I would disappear if he opened them.

“I’m finally home,” I tell him, feeling the familiar lump in my throat as my eyes tear up. He opens his eyes then, they’re also pooling with unshed tears. It makes me laugh; he arches a brow. “We’re both here, in each other’s arms finally and...we’re crying.”

“We’re not a very typical pair, are we?”

“Nothing typical about us.” I say and he chuckles, kissing my wrist. My heart stutters in my chest.

“You’re either crazy or just incredibly forgiving, giving me a second chance at this.” Harry says outright.

“It’s us I’m giving a second chance to,” I slide my hands up, locking them around his neck.

“D’you think we’ll get the timing right this time?” He whispers as he lowers his face.

“We better,” I keep my eyes on his mouth, the one I’ve thought about kissing for the last three months. And then, finally, his lips are on mine and I nearly cry out of relief having him in my arms. Harry, being my Harry again.

His hands clench the fabric around my waist as he pulls me closer to him, his lips leave mine and he kisses my cheek, my jaw, my temple, before he crushes me to him.

“Harry I-” I couldn’t breathe, but my strained voice gives that away and he lets me go. I’m surprised to see the tears now trailing down his face. “You’re crying,” I swipe at the fallen tears.

“I’m just so happy,” he takes my hands off his cheeks and clasps them against his chest. “Y/N I’ve only dreamed of this, I didn’t think the universe cared enough about me to let me have this reality.”

“You and your poetry,” I smile.

“I guess you’re my muse,” He pulls me back to him, this time in a sweeter kiss that lingers. Tears pool in my own eyes as my heart tries to process the enormity of emotions I was feeling. “C’mere, I just want to hold you.”

He leads me to the couch and I lay down next to him. We take in each other, face to face, the grins reflected on both of us is impossible to wipe off.

“I love you Y/N, to the sun and back.”

“Isn’t it the moon and back?” I ask.

“Sun’s further out,” he smiles like he was expecting the question. I laugh, he kisses the tip of my nose and pulls my leg over his, his arm snaking around my waist so I’m snug against him.

“What am I gonna do with you Styles,” I brush one of his curls back.

“You’ve got forever to figure that out,” he says simply. My heart races at the thought. We’d bungled the first round we spent together, but after all these years apart I had a feeling that we really would have forever this time around.

With all the emotions fluttering inside of me, all the baggage unpacked and out of sight, and Harry’s loving expression looking back at me; I believed in us.

1.5 Years Later (H’s POV):

The house is quiet when I get in--it was half past 11 and I knew Y/N was probably asleep. I texted her a couple hours ago I would be home soon but time had slipped away as I worked. I hoped she wasn’t upset.

I move stealthily through the hall, eventually making my way to our bedroom where she lays sleeping. She’d left the lamp on beside her, and I move around to her side so I can close it. I notice the open book beside her--she fell asleep while reading it again. I set it down on the drawers and tuck her hand into the covers, the subtle diamonds on her finger glows yellow under the soft lamp light. Just looking at the engagement ring sparks a rush of love for the woman before me.

Y/N had surprised me a couple months ago when she proposed to me. We’d were dating again for almost a year and a half--this time it really felt like we’d gotten the timing right on our relationship. We were happier and more in love than we’d ever been. During a candlelit dinner one night, she had pulled a chair up beside me and presented me with the ring and an ultimatum.

Apparently she’d noticed that I was always on edge--like I was waiting for her to realize that she didn’t actually forgive me for all the awful things I put her through. And she was right, but it wasn’t until she said it out loud that I realized it was an anxiety I had. I was waiting for her to realize she could do better than me--leave me the way I left her. But she proposed to show me she wasn’t going anywhere, and she showed me her own ring her father gave her--her mum’s ring. 

I was blown away by her observant love, again, how she knew me better than I knew myself. I reassured her I wasn’t going anywhere either, not now or ever. And we decided we didn’t want to set any dates, we were taking it slow. Being engaged was a promise and that was all for now. I wanted to live up to Y/N’s standard, give her and her family a reason to trust me again--not only would they kill me if I ever did anything to her, but I’m pretty sure my own family would kill me too. They were over the moon when they found out we were giving it another go.

“Harry?” Y/N mumbles as I slip under the covers a little while later.

“Sorry for coming home so late,” I whisper. “I got a bit carried away with the case.”

“What’s new,” she shifts to face me, the moonlight from the windows barely illuminating her face. “M’just glad you’re home.”

“Me too,” I pull her towards me. Home, it was this house we’d moved into last year. But mostly, it was this beautiful woman in my arms who opened her heart to me despite everything. I don’t know how I got so lucky. I tell her that.

“S’not luck,” she mumbles. “The universe--our stars are finally aligned.”

“My star was pretty dim, I’m surprised yours found it.” I tuck her hair behind her ear and kiss her temple. “You found it by luck.”

“No. Your star’s always burned the brightest in my universe,” she tucks her face into my neck. “Even when I didn’t want it to be, it was still noticeable.”

“You outshine me in every way in mine,” I lean away so I can hold her face close, resting my forehead on hers. “I love you so much.”

She smiles in the dark, and leaves a kiss on the corner of my mouth. “I love you, and I’d love you more if you came home on time.”

I chuckle, “I’ll try. Tomorrow.”

“Mhm,” she says sleepily. I’d let her sleep, I think as I pull her leg over mine and hold her against my chest. Even though I hated coming home by the time she was asleep, finding her in our little safe space, and being able to hold her close as we fell asleep was my favourite part of the day.

***

The day is nearly over but the paperwork on my desk says otherwise. I sigh and slump in my chair, this was the worst part of my job.

I begin filling it out, and I’m not even halfway through when the phone rings. Serena’s on the other line, “Styles, your patient fiancee is here for you. I don’t think she’s staying patient for long though.”

I tell her I’d be out, smiling as I put down the phone. Y/N was making sure I kept my word from last night, and I would. For her, I would get in extra early tomorrow just to be sure I had the evening with her tonight.

“So when do I get the invitation to the wedding?” I hear Serena say as I walk out to the lobby. She’s putting on her coat to leave and Y/N’s bundled up herself. “And then when do I get to see the mini Styles’? I better be around to see them!”

Not many would, but I notice the slight tension in Y/N’s shoulders at the sensitive topic. I step in.

“You’re worse than my mum,” I tell her. “And she’s actually going to be the grandmother.”

“We just want to see our babies’ babies before we bite the bullet!” Serena shrugs, walking out from behind the counter. “I’ll see you tomorrow Harry, Y/N it was lovely seeing you as always.”

We wave her off, and then I wrap my arm around Y/N and we walk out to my car.

“That’s the first question everyone continues to ask me,” Y/N says as we walk. “When the date is.”

“Does that bother you?” I check in.

“A little, but only because it leads to even more questions when I say we haven’t set a date.”

We get into the car, and I ask her the other question I wanted to know: “And the baby thing? Does that...bother you?”

She turns her body to look at me, tilting her head as she tries to read me. “It doesn’t...does it bother you?”

“No,” I say honestly. “I’m happy where we are. All that stuff can...come after. I’m just-I’m happy with you.”

“Good talk then,” she grins. I can’t help but lean over for a kiss then.

“Well I don’t mind the baby making part,” I tell her. “But I think the actual babies can wait.”

She pushes me away as her cheeks flush like we hadn’t been dating and married and dating again for over ten years. “Sometimes I think you’ve just got one thing on your mind.”

“Yeah,” I say as I start the car. “That’s you.”

“Is that what distracted you so bad when you were working on my case? Because you were totally distracted and we almost died-”

“We were never going to die!” I say over her--this was a common topic of conversation between us.

“I was going to bleed out and die!” She tries to speak over me.

“Oh now you were going to bleed out? You were never dying!” I shout even louder. And we keep going for most of the way home until Y/N catches sight of a dog at a crosswalk and begins to coo at it through the window.

“Maybe we should get a dog,” she starts on another of our reoccurring topics. I sigh, ready to launch into why we should wait. And that’s how the rest of the ride home goes. Not that I minded, I could discuss the same topics with her over and over for eternity.

“You’re just threatened by a dog,” Y/N continues as we park and head up to our front door. “Because then my love would be split between both of you.”

“Yeah sure, that’s it.” I roll my eyes at her silly reasoning. But I still grab her hand in mine and kiss it as we walk in. My stomach flutters when she gazes at me as the door closes behind her.

“I’m going to wear you down soon,” she says as she takes my coat from me. I take them both out of her hands and leave them in a heap on the staircase, kissing her so she stops talking. She smiles against my lips, knowing that she was wearing me down, and I’d give her anything she asked for. Anything to make her happy. I loved her infinitely.

[css1992]

Guilty Pleasure

[Porn AU]

Summary: Peter and Beck used to be a power couple in the porn industry, but after Beck dumps him, Peter is forced to start over. With no money, no family and nowhere to go, he doesn’t have much choice other than to keep doing porn, so he joins Just4Fans to get back on his feet and then one day he gets a very generous tip from someone under the username of YKWIM.

All the warnings listed on Part I apply.

Read on AO3

Part I / Part II / Part III / Part IV / Part V / Part VI / Part VII / Part VIII / Part IX / Part X /  Part XI / Epilogue

-x-

The last couple of weeks of May flew by, soon June arrived and with it even more sunny days and warmer temperatures. Peter couldn’t help but think that his life fell apart in the winter, and as summer approached, it was slowly getting back on track. He was able to save a decent amount of money every month, his apartment was coming together – he even had a dinner table and chairs by the second week of June –, he was taking on more responsibility at BFF way quicker than expected and he was happier, in general.

He felt comfortable enough to make plans again – with the steady money he was making, he might be able to give up porn in a couple of years and he would still be eligible to apply for some of BFF’s grants and scholarships, meaning he may be able to go to college at 23, after all. Money would be tight for a while, but it was doable. He could always work part-time to supplement his income as well.

Summer also brought some unexpected good news. On a random Thursday morning, he was bombarded with messages on Twitter and Instagram from people asking where they could find his videos now that Beck’s channel was down. He was confused at first, but when he went to check, the channel wasn’t there, it had disappeared from the site.

He gasped. For a total of five seconds, his mind went wild, his heart raced, and his eyes watered. For those five seconds, he felt a mixture of happiness, relief and confusion, knowing those videos weren’t out there anymore, couldn’t be found, couldn’t be seen, couldn’t be remembered. But it was only for five blissful seconds. When his brain turned back on and the first rush of excitement died down, he realized that probably wouldn’t last.

That had happened before, when they first started posting. People mass reported the videos and the channel until they got taken down, because Peter looked very young at eighteen. They had to send a picture of his ID to the website for check several times, it was months before it stopped happening once and for all. Peter assumed Beck was posting videos of his new boyfriend, who he knew looked very young, so it was probably just a misunderstanding and only a matter of time until he got the channel – and the videos – back up.

Still, he allowed himself to count that as a win and couldn’t help but feeling giddy all day, to the point where everybody noticed his good mood – Ned, MJ, people at BFF and Tony.

Tony, who didn’t disappear. As days and nights and weeks went by, Peter stopped waiting for it to happen.

“Someone is awfully cheery today.” The older man grinned at him from the driver’s side that night, as Peter sang along to Ed Sheeran, because it was his turn to choose the playlist. Tony had picked him up from BFF and they were heading to his place for a quiet night in.

“It’s a good day, Tony.” He shot back after the chorus of Put it All on Me and the older man beamed, the corners of his eyes crinkling up.

“It sure is, kitten.” He turned up the volume and Peter sang even louder, causing Tony to burst out laughing.

At some point, he realized life was a little less complicated than he gave it credit for. He realized that if he actually gave things the precise amount of thought they deserved, not everything felt like the end of the world. The minute he decided to just let things happen the way they were supposed to happen, without overthinking every detail, life got so much easier.

He decided not to make the thing with Tony a big deal. Sure, when he thought about it for more than two minutes, it seemed like a huge fucking deal, he was basically dating Tony Stark, one of the richest men in the world, Iron Man himself, the man who had literately saved half the universe from extinction not even two years earlier. So, yes, that seemed like a big fucking deal, but–

But.

To him, he was just Tony. This charming guy who texted him daily to ask about his day and crack acid jokes about his business associates. This kind guy who sent him chocolates when he was feeling down and cooked him dinner every weekend and made sure to e-mail him easy and healthy recipes so he wouldn’t starve to death. This gentle guy who called him beautiful and touched him with such care that he forgot how many hands had left bruises on his skin before.

When he forgot everything Tony was supposed to be and just focused on everything that he was to him, what they had seemed so simple and pure.

He stopped worrying about labels, too. In the beginning, he kept stressing about what they had, what was expected of him, what he expected of Tony, but eventually, he decided none of that mattered. They made each other feel good, they made each other happy, they made each other better, all in all, whatever label he could put on their relationship wouldn’t make any difference, so he let it go.

Weeks later, Peter heard Beck had managed to get the channel back up, only for it to get taken down again in a few hours, then his Instagram and Twitter also disappeared. He wasn’t too surprised, and if he was honest with himself, it was fun imagining Beck losing his mind as he tried to fix it. After all, every day the channel was down, he was losing money. And his social media, specially his Twitter account, was where he promoted his content to thousands of followers, so losing that meant losing money as well, and if there was one thing Peter knew Beck loved, it was money.

He wondered what the fuck the man had done to piss people off like that, it was clearly a coordinated attack, but he wasn’t curious enough to try and find out what happened. He would rather watch from a distance, rejoicing in the satisfaction it gave him to imagine that maybe, just maybe, one of those days Beck wouldn’t be able to get the channel back up and would have to start from scratch, like Peter did. And maybe then he wouldn’t re-upload his videos – that part was a little harder to believe, but who knew, stranger things had happened.

When June came to an end, Peter was surprised with a notification from Tony on Just4Fans. He had almost forgot the man was still subscribed to his account there, they obviously never chatted on the app anymore, and when he opened the notification, his blood ran cold in his veins.

It was a tip.

A hundred thousand dollars tip.

He couldn’t fucking believe it. A tip? For what, a job well done? It wasn’t like Peter was – what did that even mean? Was Tony trying to say something with that, send some kind of message?

He decided not to call him right away, he was too – upset. The older man was picking him up later that evening for dinner, so he decided to wait. Whatever he had to say to him, he wanted to hear it in person. He wanted him to look in his eyes and tell him he thought he was his fucking wh–

“What is the meaning of this?” He asked as soon he got in his car, avoiding the kiss that came his way. Tony blinked in surprise, trying to understand why he got a phone shoved in his face instead of a kiss, and then he finally saw what that was all about.

“Oh, that–“ But before he could answer anything, Peter interrupted.

“I told you I’m not – Tony, why would you – this is so insulting!” He was honestly at a loss for words. They had been seeing each other for almost two months by then, things were going great, they met every week, they made apple pie together, for God’s sake, had he misunderstood all the signs?

“My God, Peter, that’s not that, I just thought – I mean, I’m a billionaire, you know this is pocket change for me, right?” Peter gasped, shocked, and Tony’s eyes widened when he fumbled with the door handle. “Wait! I didn’t mean – Jesus, okay, hold on a second, please!” Tony reached over him to shut the door before Peter could get out of the car. The young man turned to look at him with tears in his eyes and Tony looked incredulous when he leaned back and ran a hand through his hair. “Don’t just assume the worst, have I given you any reason for that?” He sounded hurt, which made Peter gulp. He took a few calming breaths and shook his head slowly.

“No,” he whispered, dropping his gaze.

“Ok, good.” He actually sounded relieved at that. “I am a billionaire, Peter, and this is pocket change for me, which means –“ he raised his voice a little, predicting a reaction from him that didn’t come, “I didn’t realize this would be such a big deal. For me, it’s like giving you, I don’t know, flowers. I didn’t mean this as a payment for whatever you think this is, I just thought this would be a good help. You’re starting your life now, you have that list of yours that you don’t let me see, you’re saving up money, you have your plans for college, I just meant to help. I mean, if we weren’t together, I would have tipped you every month, so I thought –“

“But we are together, Tony, I –“ he was a little calmer then, because that was, in fact, a reasonable explanation and he shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions. “Look, I appreciate the gesture, but next time you mean to give me flowers, just give me flowers! I believe you have the best intentions at heart, but it’s just weird for me. I don’t want this to be about money. I just – don’t want that, okay?”

He gazed at the older man as he gaped at him, mouth opening and closing, but no sound came out for a while.

“I just thought – I mean, people usually –“ It was unusual to see Tony speechless like that, but the man shook his head and looked back at him, almost embarrassed. “I just want to help you.”

“Are you kidding me?” Peter poked him in the arm, trying to lighten up the mood in the car. “You’re teaching me how to cook. Yesterday I made an omelet and I only burned one side, I’m getting good at this. That’s a big help.”

Tony didn’t laugh at his joke, like he usually did, he just gazed at him with an unreadable expression, before leaning in to kiss him, which Peter gladly reciprocated.

“I’m sorry I made you uncomfortable,” he whispered, then, resting his forehead against his.

“And I’m sorry I was rude. It won’t happen again,” he promised, and he meant it.

After that night, he removed Tony from his Just4Fans, which came as a blow to the older man, who pouted and whined for about a week, only stopping when Peter showed up at his place one Saturday wearing Iron Man lingerie under his clothes – it was supposed to be a joke, but it worked surprisingly well for Tony.  

By July, it became impossible to keep sneaking around Ned and MJ, as the dates became more frequent. Peter decided to tell them that he had met someone online and that they were getting to know each other. He told them it was nothing serious yet and if it became serious, they would meet him.

He did have to throw in a few lies to get them off his back – he definitely had to lie about Tony’s age to avoid certain comparisons, but he would cross that bridge when he got to it, if he ever got to it. He wasn’t sure if or when he was going to tell them the whole truth, but for the time being, he  felt more comfortable keeping that relationship to himself.

He and Tony didn’t go out much, but when they did, it was always to fancy and discreet restaurants with private rooms; Tony was, after all, a celebrity for all intents and purposes, and at if the press got a whiff of them there would be no secret left to keep.

But staying in with Tony was far from boring. They cooked together and the older man taught him all of his grandmother’s secret recipes – Peter could never replicate them by himself at home, but it was still fun trying. They spent almost all of their time down in the workshop, though, where Tony  had him do menial tasks, like screwing bolts or reaching for a part inside an Iron Man suit. He said his tiny hands were useful for his projects.

He knew he wasn’t really that useful, but he loved when Tony included him and asked for his help, even though he didn’t really need it. He was fascinated by everything the older man taught him in those moments and in turn Tony always looked proud and pleased when Peter put his lessons to use.

He didn’t mind keeping him company when Tony was focused on projects he couldn’t help with, he stayed there anyway, reading a book or watching TV on the tiny couch – Tony kept saying he was going to get a bigger one, but he didn’t believe it, he knew the older man enjoyed the fact that the only way they could fit comfortably on it was if Peter was lying half on top of him.

So after several weeks, they established a little routine of their own. Since Tony had a busy schedule and Peter was still trying to keep Ned and MJ somewhat in the dark, they didn’t meet that often on week days, but they always talked on the phone before bed. On Thursdays, Tony picked him up after his shift at BFF and he spent the night at his place. They had breakfast together on Fridays and then they met again every Saturday after lunch, and finally Tony dropped him back off home every Sunday evening, so he could have dinner with his friends.

In August, for the first time in his life, Peter had two birthday celebrations. One with his friends, when the three of them went bar-hopping and he got home so hammered he had absolutely no idea how they managed to climb the stairs, and another with Tony, when he decorated the workshop with  balloons and put party hats on Dum-E and U.

“Surprise!” He yelled lamely, throwing confetti at Peter when they stepped into the workshop. The younger man laughed, delighted, as Tony hurried to the kitchenette and came back with something in his hands. “I know it doesn’t look good, but I promise it tastes good. Probably.” When Peter looked down, he noticed it was a large chocolate cake with ‘Happy Birthday, kitten’ written on it in bright pink icing. It looked so ugly, but it was so beautiful at the same time. “What did I do now?” Tony frowned, face falling.

He blinked a few times and when he touched his cheeks, he realized he was crying.

“I’m sorry, I’m just – really happy.” He grinned, pulling the older man’s face to give him a kiss. “Thank you.”

It was late October when Tony told him he had to go on a trip to China for two weeks, and even though it wasn’t his first work trip since they started dating, five months earlier, it would be by far the longest one since then, so it was kind of a big deal. Still, he didn’t expect to feel so affected, but on the days leading up to it he was so upset he couldn’t hide it.

They spent their last Sunday together wrapped up in each other doing absolutely nothing. They slept in, Tony brought Peter breakfast in bed, which was rewarded with a lazy and sloppy blow job, and they spent all day in bed, only getting up for essentials, like food and water. They didn’t even turn on the TV, they didn’t even talk much. They just held each other and exchanged slow, tender kisses until their bodies were too warm to stay under the sheets.

Tony ran a bath for them and got in the tub – it was big enough for eight people, but Peter made a point to sit in his lap, clinging to him like a koala. He felt Tony’s arms encircle him gently, as he rested his chin on top of his head.

“I’ll be home before you even have time to miss me, kitten.” He whispered, and those were the first words either of them had said in at least a few hours.

Peter didn’t tell him that was impossible since he already missed him, instead he just held him even tighter.

After the bath water went cold, they climbed out of the tub and Tony insisted on drying him, before dressing him in one of his own T-shirts, even though Peter had a multitude of spare clothes in his closet. He sat in bed, watching Tony pack a huge suitcase that reminded him just how long he would be gone for. He sulked a little – just a little – and that earned him a little kiss on his forehead, which was enough to undo the frown between his brows.

Finally, in the evening, Tony parked his car in front of Peter’s building, turning to look at him with an almost pained smile, before leaning in for a kiss.

“I’m gonna miss you,” Peter whispered against his mouth and felt when Tony’s lips stretched into a small smile. He pulled away a little, just enough to look into his eyes, and cupped his chin in his hand.

“I’ll miss you too, but I won’t be long, ok? It’s just a few days.” He pecked Peter’s lips one more time for good measure and the younger man nodded.

“Call me if you have time.”

“Of course, kitten, every day.” He leaned in for another kiss, this one longer than the previous, and Peter’s heart fluttered. He took a deep breath and slowly let it out, containing the urge to say those three words that had been trapped in the back of his throat for weeks.

“Have a safe trip. Let me know when you land.”

“I will, baby.”

Peter got out of the car and waved, watching as it disappeared down the street. He sighed and his heart ached, he already missed Tony and it had only been a few seconds, how was he going to survive fifteen whole days? It seemed impossible. It was crazy to think how far they had come since March, when they talked for the first time. It seemed like a lifetime ago.

He turned to go inside, but froze in place when he heard a familiar voice.

“So that’s why you’ve been ignoring me, huh? How rude.” He turned slowly to the left, only to be met with Beck’s cocky, arrogant smile, just a few feet away from him. “I tried calling, I tried texting, you’ve blocked me everywhere, I can’t even e-mail you anymore, it appears.” Beck walked slowly and leaned against the rails of the stairs to Peter’s building and the younger man curled his hands in fists, trying to control the urge to just run. “Long time no see, Petey-pie.”

He was paralyzed, muscles rigid, but to his own surprise, it wasn’t fear that he felt, or sadness. It was pure anger.  

“I wonder why,” he answered quietly, but firmly. Beck’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline, before the smile was back in place. “How did you find me?” He demanded, because Beck had never cared to ask where Peter was going to stay after he kicked him out, so how in the hell would he know where to find him?

“Wasn’t easy, I have been following you on Instagram, some of your morning run routes seemed familiar, so I–”

“You stalked me?” He frowned, taking a step closer to the other man, who looked at Peter with indignation and hurt. He shook his head, softened those baby blue eyes and placed one hand over his chest, right above where his heart would have been if he had one.

“I just wanted to see you, is all.” He shrugged, dropping his gaze to stare at his own feet, and Peter wanted to roll his eyes. It was so weird watching his whole act now that the spell had been lifted.

“What do you want?” He asked, making the older man’s head snap back up, a little surprised by his cold tone.

“I just told you, I wanted to see you. I missed you.” He took a few steps towards Peter, who in turn walked backwards to keep his distance

“You missed me?” He scoffed, shaking his head. “Where’s your new boy-toy, you put him away so you could come play with me?” He cocked his head to the side and, for a moment, he could see the shock crossing his features.

“Pete… Why are you acting like this, it’s like I don’t even know you anymore...” His voice broke and he looked away, pretending to wipe away a tear. He wondered how the hell he used to fall for that.

“You don’t, Quentin. I’m not a lost little boy anymore, you should go back to your boyfriend. Or is he smarter than me and dumped you already? Is that what this is all about?” He narrowed his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest, and Beck’s mouth hung open like he couldn’t believe his words.

“I made a mistake, Pete. After so many years, I took you for granted, I couldn’t see what I saw the first time I met you. I couldn’t see how beautiful you were, how caring and loving you were, how loyal and reliable and – I don’t know, I was blind. I was so stupid, I shouldn’t have left you.” His eyes were wide, earnest, shining with unshed tears. His face was open, even his body language screamed honesty. Suddenly, he didn’t feel so bad about falling for his act – Beck was good. “Don’t  you miss me, baby? Don’t you miss us?”

Peter snorted, shaking his head, he couldn’t believe the nerve of that man.

“You made a mistake, huh? So you dumped your new boy, right? If I were to go home with you right now, he wouldn’t be there, waiting for you, like a fucking plan B, in case this doesn’t go your way. Right?” It was his turn to take a few steps towards the older man. “Like I was your plan B while you waited for him to turn 18?”

“Peter, c’mon–“

“Is he there, Beck? Just answer me that. Come on, if he’s not, I’ll take you back right now, we can go home together.” He insisted, looking into the older man’s eyes, but he didn’t say anything, he just sighed. “Of course he is. If I said yes, what would you do? Tell him to pack his things in the middle of the night and leave? Would you keep all the money he’s made you and tell him to fuck off? Would you leave him broke and lonely and fucking lost in this world? Would you tell him that he wasn’t good enough and dispose of him like he’s fucking garbage?” His voice grew louder and louder, and when he came to himself, he noticed he was in Beck’s face, their chests almost touching, so he took a step back. “So to answer your question, Quentin, no, I don’t fucking miss you. You fucking ruined me!”

“I saved you!” And just like that, the good guy act was gone. His whole demeanor changed, the soft baby blues widened, his mouth was set in a sneer, he puffed out his chest to intimidate him, but Peter stood his ground. “Don’t pretend you don’t remember who you were before me. You were a fucking loser! An orphan, no family, no friends, no future! I took you in, I took care of you, I gave you a profession – don’t fucking roll your eyes, what the fuck are you doing now, huh? Rocket science? ‘Cause it seems to me like you’re still doing porn, and now you’re clearly branching out into prostitution, would you look at that!”

“You have no idea what the fuck you’re talking about!” He placed his hands on the man’s chest and pushed him away when he got too fucking close for comfort. He held his breath when he realized what he had done, afraid of the man’s reaction, but he just kept his distance.  

“You know what? Fuck you, Peter. I was wrong about you, I thought I knew who you were, I thought I missed you, but you’re just a disgusting fucking whore, after all. You’re a dirty little bitch in heat who likes to get this loose hole of yours fucked by old perverts, I don’t know why I’m surprised, I mean, that’s why I dumped you, you were enjoying those videos a little bit too much for my taste. You weren’t even satisfied with two cocks up your ass, one in your mouth and a line of men waiting to fuck you. You disgust me.” He started walking away, and Peter wanted to say something, he wanted to yell at him and defend himself, he wanted to tell him he didn’t fucking enjoy it, he wanted to tell him that it was all his fault, he threw him to the lions, he let those men fucking–

Fuck!

He rushed inside the building and ran upstairs, eyes clouded with tears. He tripped and fell knees first on the steps, but he didn’t even feel pain, he just got up and kept going, kept running, trying to put as much distance between him and Beck as he could, even though it was irrational. Beck was gone, he walked away, he left him, he left him again, he wasn’t coming back–

“Ned?!” He knocked urgently on his friends’ door. He didn’t have his spare key, it was upstairs in his own apartment, but he couldn’t trust himself to go all the way up there and down again without having a full on panic attack. “MJ?! Are you guys home?!” He was really trying not to sound too desperate, he didn’t want to scare them, but it was hard controlling his emotions when his heart was hammering against his chest and he couldn’t fucking breathe.

“Peter?” It was MJ who yanked the door open. She had a towel wrapped around her torso, her hair was wet, and Peter felt guilty, but she took one look at him and quickly pulled him into a hug. “My God, Peter...” She whispered into his hair when he started sobbing uncontrollably on her naked shoulder. “Come on in, c’mon.” He heard the door closing behind him, but he didn’t let go of her, he felt like if he did, he wouldn’t be able to hold himself together.  

He wanted to tell her not to worry, that she should go finish her shower and change, but he really, really needed her right then. She sat down on the couch, pulling him with her and he promptly laid down, burying his face in her legs. He couldn’t stop crying and sobbing and no matter how many times she asked him what was wrong, sounding increasingly more worried, he couldn’t get his feelings under control enough to give her any answer.

He was there for what felt like hours, when at some point someone lifted him from MJ’s lap and enveloped him in such a tight hug he couldn’t breath for a second, but he sighed in relief, it was right what he needed. Ned’s arms felt like home, it calmed him down almost instantly – his voice whispering that it was fine, everything was going to be okay helped a lot, too.

“I hate him, I hate him so fucking much,” he mumbled into his shoulder, God knew how much time later, and his friend just hummed, patting his back. “I hate that he made a mess of me and I let him.” He couldn’t hold back more tears when he said that, because it was true, it was so fucking true. He let Beck do whatever he wanted to him, he let him ruin his dreams, his future, his fucking personality, until he was nothing but a shell of what he used to be.

“I know, Peter, I know,” Ned soothed him, rubbing his back, even though he probably had no idea what he was talking about. “It’s okay now. You’re okay. It’s over”

“I made tea.” MJ’s quiet voice sounded somewhere from his right and when he turned to look at her, she was already dressed, wet hair up in a bun, with a mug in her hands, which she extended to him. He accepted it but didn’t dare to take a sip, he was positive that if he did, he would throw up, his stomach was all kinds of fucked up at that moment. “Peter, what happened? Did Star – uh, did your boyfriend do something? Did he hurt? ‘Cause I swear to God–” Just the mention of Tony being the cause of his distress made him sick, so he cut her off.

“Beck was here.” He sniffed, looking at the mug to avoid their eyes when he heard both of them gasping.

“Beck? Beck was here? Fucking Beck?” MJ screeched and he nodded.

“He was waiting for me outside.” He rubbed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to gather enough energy to have that conversation.  

“What did he want?” Ned asked calmly, while MJ paced the floor, furious.

“I don’t know...” He shrugged, wrecking his brain to try and figure out what his motive was. “His channel got taken down a few weeks ago and he couldn’t get it back up. I heard he had to start over.” He hadn’t been watching that closely, but he knew something was wrong, even his Twitter and Instagram accounts kept getting taken down almost monthly, it was impossible he was making any money over the past few months. “He said he wanted to get back together, probably because he thinks us making up would be a big hit or whatever. I said no, of course. He didn’t like the answer.”

“Did he hurt you?!” MJ strode back to him until she was standing right in front of him, looking into his eyes. He was almost intimidated by her.

“No, he just… Said some pretty shitty things, is all,” he answered sheepishly, because he hated that that man could still make a mess of him with just a few hurtful words.

“Oh, dude. He’s just mad he’s lost control over you. Whatever he said, he just wanted to hurt you, it doesn’t mean anything.” Ned placed an arm around his shoulders, pulling him closer, and Peter rested his head against his, sighing.

“I know. He was always like that, you know,” he whispered, as flashes of memories crossed his mind. “When I didn’t bend to his wishes, when I didn’t do things his way, he fucking–“ He squeezed his eyes shut, furious, because he had fallen for that again. “He tries to charm me and when it doesn’t work, he attacks me. But the thing is, he really knows what to say to destroy me. It just sucks. But it’s fine. I just need a moment, I’ll be fine.” He sat up straight and looked both of his friends in the eyes.

“Yes, you will. You most certainly will.” Ned patted his shoulder one last time, getting up from the couch. “Why don’t you lie down for a second, huh? I’m making dinner, I’ll even try one of those recipes your mystery boyfriend taught you.” Just the mention of Tony made him breathe a little easier, even though he wouldn’t be able to see him for a while.

“Okay.” He nodded, smiling softly. MJ took Ned’s place on the couch and he lay down, placing his head on her legs, as she ran her fingers through his hair. He sighed contently and closed his eyes, feeling exhausted. He was close to drifting off when he heard Ned gasp.

“Oh my God,” He breathed quietly from the kitchen and both Peter and MJ looked at him curiously from over the back of the couch.

“What?” She didn’t look too worried, but Peter was concerned about how pale he was.

“Ned, what’s wrong?” He frowned, watching Ned’s horrified expression looking at his phone like it was a murder scene. He raised his eyes and gulped.

“Peter is trending on Twitter,” he whispered, after a while.

“What?!” They both hurried over to the kitchen counter, and the first thing Peter saw when he looked at his phone was a picture of him and Tony in his car, kissing. As Ned scrolled down, more pictures showed up, but not only that, clips of his old videos were all over Twitter, people knew his full name, his real name, and they were making all sorts of comments. Iron Man, Tony Stark, Peter Parker, sex worker, prostitute and porn were trending.

The room was completely silent for a whole minute, before MJ turned on the TV.

“… appear that Tony Stark, former CEO of Stark Industries and retired Avenger, was seen kissing a young man in his car earlier this evening. The person in the pictures seems to be one Peter Parker, a twenty-one year old porn actor, who is also said to work as a prostitute…”

Peter’s heart sank to the bottom of his stomach, his vision blurred and he felt bile rising in his throat. He took a deep breath and got up from the couch, ears ringing, as he rushed to the front door.  He heard his friends yelling something, but he couldn’t make out their words, and he just couldn’t deal with all that right then and there.

“I, uhm, I gotta go,” he called from over his shoulder, slamming the door shut on his way out.

As he ran upstairs, vision blurred by tears and chest hurting, begging for oxygen, he couldn’t help but remember his life fell apart in the winter. And fall would be over soon.

-x-

So... It appears that someone has lost the ability to write short chapters... 

Anyways, only three more chapters to go!  🥳

Tag list (please let me know if you’d like to be added or removed from the list):  @sadachmesarthim @iamnotparticularlyproud @staticwhispersinthedark @bluestarker @ whyisthisathingcb

[cienie-isengardu]

The Development of Law and Zoro relationship: Wano, ...and Law Is Not Happy About That

<Part I: Before Meeting>> <<Part II: Sabaody Archipelago, The First Meeting>> <<Part III: Punk Hazard: The Alliance (A)__(B)>>  <<Part IV: Dressrosa, The Breaking Point (The Plan Failed)__ (Saving Law)__(Protecting Law)__ (Birdcage, Pica and Doflamingo)__ (Aftermath)>> <<Part V: Zou, The Kindred Spirits (Traveling Together)__(Searching for Nakama)__ (Reunion)__ (Ninja-Pirate-Mink-Samurai Alliance)__(The Last Moments before War)>>  Part VI: Wano, Against Emperors (The Untold Journey)__(Luffy & Zoro Means Troubles…)__(…and Law Is Not Happy About That)

The fight between Law and Hawkins was stopped; Law didn’t manage to eliminate the enemy nor prevent information leakage about alliance presence in Wano. He almost was run over by a speeding cart with stolen food (another “crime” against Orochi & Kaido, which Straw Hats committed in his absence). No wonder why Law was so pissed of at Zoro (chapter 918):

➽ Up to this point, Law never have been so openly angry at Roronoa, nor aggressive toward the other man. Now, Law vented all frustration and anger while Zoro kept silent… and maybe felt some embarrassment(?) about Trafalgar’s unusual outburst, considering bubble speech with three dots and “sweat drop” expressing Zoro’s reaction in a more visible way.

➽ Another interesting detail is how calmly Zoro endured Law’s angry rant. He simply let the other man scream at him, and even tolerated grabbing his kimono and invading his personal space. When it comes to scolding, Zoro reacts differently, depending on the seriousness of the situation and who is scolding him. He either fights back in such situations or doesn’t respond to angry rants and taunts. For example, if Sanji started screaming and pointing his faults, Zoro most likely wouldn’t be so tolerable because those two like to antagonize each other. Seems like Roronoa opted for the calm approach with Law. Maybe Zoro knew that Law was right and his anger was justified. Maybe he simply figured it will be better if Law got all the anger and stress out of him. Or maybe he was just taken by surprise by the sudden outburst? 

↪ In all fairness, I think he perfectly knew what Law’s reaction will be, especially considering this ambiguous frame:

At first it seems like Zoro talked about Kinemon, what honestly would make perfect sense. He already mentioned Kinemon when repeated samurai’s warning to Luffy but couldn’t really say his name in front of just met Kiku. At the same time, he could also talk about Law, because at this point he was familiar enough with the man to predict his angry reaction. Law seems to be prone to stress and he likes planning everything ahead and Zoro not sticking to plan (letting Luffy smash enemy) would definitely earn Law’s ire. Righteous so. Then what was the point of arguing with Trafalgar? Even more, when the man, despite stress and rage, doesn't hold on such emotions for too long. Which really seems like the best way to deal with a pissed off Heart Captain was just let him scream until he cooled down and adapted to the new situation.

➽ Because Zoro did not stop Luffy as he should - as Law hoped he would - Trafalgar was blaming Zoro for the whole situation, even though Luffy was as much guilty, charging into unknown without care for consequences. Zoro not once tried to excuse himself or Luffy, did nothing to stop Law’s outburst nor remind Law he wasn’t his captain (superior) thus he wasn’t obligated to listen. He simply let Law scream and blame him for the mess.

Anime expended this moment by actually giving Zoro a chance to explain to Law why he screwed so badly. Which literally was “I met Luffy” what immediately refocused Trafalgar’s anger from Zoro to solely Luffy:

This extended scene fits well with already existing Law’s personal experience from Dressrosa - the usually stoic and reliable Zoro will throw away rational thinking in the favor of Luffy’s whim and craziness. Monkey D. Luffy has that kind of effect on Roronoa.

Also, another funny thing anime did with that scene is when Law was scolding his fellow Supernova, Zoro was maintaining eye contact.

But when he was saying “sorry”, he was clearly looking to his left, instead at Law. Which makes the apology feeling insincere. Zoro wasn’t really that sorry about the mess but he said it, most likely to placate angry (stressed??) Law. Seems like Roronoa is bad at lying; not on Luffy’s level of bad, but still not really into telling lies.

Law most likely could tell Pirate Hunter wasn’t sorry at all, which explains grabbing Zoro’s kimono and screaming more at the other man’s face.

➽ Zoro’s patience and lack of response makes an interesting contrast to Law’s unusual aggressiveness. We may only wonder if Roronoa already had some experiences with such an outburst from the other Supernova. Once again, there is little to no information how their relationship was affected by the journey and situation in Wano, nor why Zoro was so indifferent while Law’s level of stress so high.

➽ Manga and anime versions of the scene give us valuable informations. One: Law was aware that Zoro promised to not cause trouble, like not fighting with samurais and Kaido’s men. That of course was a rational thing to ask of Zoro, because the man is too bloodthirsty for his own good and is always up for a good fight. The manga translation makes it look like Law personally witnessed Pirate Hunter swearing to not cause any trouble. Yet Law’s screaming sounds a bit confusing. On one hand, he knew Zoro A) became a wanted man and B) was supposed to be in Flower Capital. So it seems Law was informed about Zoro’s mission of pretending to be ronin. Whatever Kinemon initiated him from the start or after the wanted poster was made public, Law understood the danger of drawing the enemy's attention to the alliance. Which may be the reason why he was so mad at Zoro and referred to him by surname or called in his mind an idiot. On another, asking Zoro - a wanted man - why didn’t he stay in capital sounds, well, kinda stupid (and interestingly, the additional symbol of irritation was added to this specific question / bubble). Roronoa killed in broad daylight an important person (magistrate), and either killed or injured the magistrate's samurais, so it is not like Zoro could wander through the capital or any city without causing more problems. Of course, wandering directless did not help the alliance at all but it was still the best outcome. As a wanted man, Zoro could either stay in capitol and draw enemy’s attention to himself - and in result, endanger Franky, Robin and Usopp’s missions and even alliance’s presence in the Wano or wander through the wasteland in which was easier avoid unnecessary troubles and, in case of fight, hide dead bodies without increasing the vigilance of Beast Pirates or Orochi’s samurais. As a wanted man, Roronoa wasn’t really in position to come back to Kinemon because of possible pursuit - though he managed to wander into Kuri region, but that is more lack of direction sense than anything intentional, I guess. Unless this is why Law was the most angry? That Zoro came too close to their main secret base of operation? Anyway, Trafalgar for sure did not hold back and vented all his anger and frustration at still passive Zoro.

Soon, the group made it into Okobore Town and gave the stolen food to starving locals while Luffy brought the fresh water with himself. Straw Hat told the happy people “I’m Luffytaro! If anyone asks, you tell ‘em my name!” (chapter 918). For the first time Luffy also noticed Law - now much calmer than a moment ago. Law made clear, that what Luffy and Zoro did was ultimately an act of rebellion against Wano (Orochi and Kaido) to which Luffy responded he was “repaying the favor” to Tama, who fed him, once again getting into additional trouble just because someone gave him free food. The serious note disappeared right away, when Luffy started screaming at the starving people to not eat all meat without him:

➽ The meeting between Luffy and Law is drastically different from meeting of Law and Zoro. Like was mentioned, Trafalgar didn’t show any anger or frustration, so either screaming at Zoro calmed him down or he already gave up trying to reason with Monkey D. Luffy. Taking into account all previous adventures from Punk Hazard to Zou, what in universe happened through what? One or two months at best? Law’s resignation makes sense. Luffy wouldn’t care nor bother to apologize for the pulled stunt, while Zoro, well, didn’t care much either, but at least didn’t try to argue back.

➽ Once the serious talk was done and Luffy literally jumped after the meat, Zoro and Law shared the same reaction (visualed by bubble speech with three dots, though the “sweat drop” symbolising embarrassment(?) is only on Zoro’s part). Despite the previous intense moment, both men were again on good terms and even in agreement toward Luffy’s idiotic/childish behaviour.

The next time we see Zoro, Law and Luffy, Trafalgar kept his distance from everyone else. He stood the closest to Luffy yet with back turned to him. Was that sort of ostentatious expression of dissatisfaction or did he keep watch in case of an enemy's attack, hard to tell.

Luffy loudly declared his intention about Wano to Tama (“By the time we leave this country, it’ll be a place where you can eat as much as you want, every single day!!!”). With a sigh, Zoro noted how because of Luffy’s action, the enemy will come after them for real. Law did not take such a comment from Zoro kindly, because the man ignored(?) his own part in the mess.

➽ Surprisingly, Law still was angry more at Zoro than Luffy, who was the main culprit. But it may be just Zoro’s uncaring attitude that provokes Law so much.

➽ Despite the still fresh feeling of irritation, Law decided to focus at the best course of action - moving on to safest place. In this case, to the ruins of Oden’s Castle, in which Kinemon and the rest of the alliance stayed in hiding. 

The group said goodbye to Tama who was taken to home by Horselina (a former enemy-turned-into-her-loyal-servant thanks to Tama’s devil fruit powers). Like always, Law kept his distance from others (in manga on one frame, he kept close to Zoro, on another, to Luffy). In anime, between sharing food and saying goodbye to Tama, Trafalgar was shown usually close to Zoro, similar like he did on Zou:

At this point, there is something to ponder a bit about Law and his (lack of) interaction with people. Like in the scene above, does Law keep close to Zoro (or Luffy) because of their bond (trust?) alone or is that partially due to his minimal social skills? As in, he keeps close to people he at least knows and doesn’t make contact with strangers unless it’s necessary. Zoro and Law both have some asocial traits (seen especially in their tendency to isolating themselves from too large group), but in contrast, Zoro and Luffy were shown through the Wano arc to interact and even befriend the local people while Trafalgar was interacting only with his crew, Straw Hats, samurai group (extended of Shinobu person) - the people he already knew for some time. Law isn’t going out his way to meet new people (like Luffy) nor bonds with accidentally met people (like Zoro with Tonoyasu). It seems in Law’s nature to avoid interaction with strangers as much as possible. Which makes me wonder if that comes simply from his introverted nature, general distrust for people or maybe even some social awkwardness created by childhood trauma and growing up in criminal organisation (Donquixote Pirates)? Because Law’s way to interact with people he just met is either ignore them (seen above) or act in cool manners around them, like in Punk Hazard with Straw Hats…  but frankly, Straw Hats freaked him there on so many levels it really makes Law looks like social interaction is not his thing. 

This reflection actually comes close to another detail. Namely, Law’s general feeling about Straw Hats helping starved people. Because the locals were truly happy and expresses that just before the departure of Three Supernovas (chapter 919):

Law has strong opinions about pirates, it seems. And it comes from a man that admitted he doesn't like to kill but yeah, doing nice things for (poor) people makes him sick. Was he so annoyed by the cheering people, or did he simply didn’t know how to react to such situation so he went with a grumpy approach?

Law expressed a lot emotions; the outbursts of anger departs from the image of stoic captain but at the same it makes me think that Law must feel okay around Zoro to be so open about his frustration (and lack of control over situation?). At the same time, Zoro let him take out all anger on him without a word. But the most important thing, no matter how much Zoro’s screwed up, no matter how much Law’s screamed and accused and was unhappy about, it didn’t change their already estabilished relationship. Once the situation calmed down, Law again kept close to Zoro and shared the same opinion about Luffy’s antics and in general they were okay in each company. 

Next part: Separated Again

[incorrectbandofbrothersquotes]

I Don’t Think You’re An Angel (Anymore)

A Lewis Nixon x OFC One Shot

Word Count: 3.3k

A/N: Thank you to @basilone​ @softspeirs​ and @mercurygray​ for all your help on this! I am much happier with how it turned out thanks to y’all’s suggestions :)

Warning(s): Some suggestive language, but that’s about it

***

Her father once told her that nursing would make her feel fulfilled. It would get her back on her feet after such tragedy struck. Nothing healed like giving back and healing others, he said. Especially after downing whiskey and kissing strangers didn’t work, she thought. 

It did the trick, to be sure. Nursing school was rigorous, but it taught her a lot about herself. She met some of her greatest friends there, and new connections soothed the ache from the burn of the ones she lost. With a new support system, she wearily clawed her way out of the ashes of her grief, and stood up again. And when the war came, she and thousands like her were able to charge into the fray. 

But the last thing Bonnie wanted now was to be on her feet - in a much more literal sense. The Austrian sun shone outside, calling to her, coaxing her to come out and warm her face and rest her sore feet. But she didn’t have a day off for another two days. And after almost eight hours at the hospital, there were still more patients to check on before she could clock out. She felt that familiar throb in her heels as she headed into the next ward. 

Shit.

There he stood. The man she once knew as Lewis Nixon, but for many years, only referred to as “The Worst Mistake I Ever Made.”

Shitshitshitshitshitshitshit.

He was coming closer, accompanied by a red-headed major she didn’t recognize. To her dismay, they headed for Sergeant Grant’s bed, the very patient she was supposed to check on. He was still recovering from his surgery until he was well enough to be moved to England. 

She decided to grit her teeth and bear it. Years had passed. Why should he bother her now? He probably wouldn’t even recognize her. She knew herself to be an unremarkable part of his life. How else could he have done what he did?

She strode over to the bed and ignored the men standing beside it. She lifted Grant’s chart and scanned it, but she couldn’t absorb anything. She could feel Lewis’s eyes on her. Moments that might have been hours passed as he stared, and she pretended she didn’t notice.

“Bonnie?”

Shit.

Biting back a groan, she looked at him, and met his eyes. Those eyes that once made her legs weak and her heart soft. But now only activated her punching reflex. She glanced at his collar to get his rank.

“Captain,” she said coolly. 

She returned her eyes to the clipboard.

“Okay, I know it doesn’t take that long to read a chart,” he said. 

She snapped it shut and glared at him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you were a medical professional. Would you like a white coat and stethoscope? Just clock in since you seem to know so much!”

“Still mad, I see,” he said with a grimace.

“Oh, get over yourself,” she shot back. 

“So, you two know each other?” the red-head observed, cutting the tension. 

“It was a long time ago,” she said. “We went to school together.”

“We used to date,” Lewis added. 

“Could not have been more obvious I preferred to keep that private, but I guess we’re in this room now,” she said. 

“Dick, this is Bonnie Butler,” Nix said. “Bonnie, this is Major Dick Winters.”

“How do you do?” she said politely. 

“Nice to meet you,” Dick replied. “Bonnie Butler...like the little girl from Gone With the Wind?”

“If fairness, I had the name first,” she pointed out. “And I haven’t broken my neck falling off a horse, but I avoid them just in case.”

They both chuckled, and she refrained from smirking with satisfaction. Her need to impress him disturbed her. 

“I gotta admit I’m surprised to see you here,” Lewis said. 

“We haven’t spoken in years, Lewis, anything I’m doing should come as a surprise to you,” she returned.

Now that the initial contact was made, she had an easier time going about her job checking on Grant. It was pretty basic, just taking vitals and ensuring he was still stable. Which he was.

“Well, I’ll let you visit now,” she said.

She started to go.

“Kathy’s leaving me,” he blurted out.

She turned to face him, expression level. “Is that supposed to mean something to me, Lewis?”

It should have felt like victory. Like justice. But it only made her sad. None of it meant anything now. Her loving him, him loving Kathy, and Bonnie hating them both for it. The agony she faced because he chose her friend was only worth a few years of marriage. 

Did everything have to fall apart? Was nothing truly built to last? The war showed her that even thousand-year-old buildings would crumble under a bomb. Just as she crumbled when Lewis dropped the truth about him and Kathy. But now they were in ruins as well, so what was the point in any of it?

He shifted his weight between his feet, as he always did when he was anxious. He looked at the ground and then back at her, his eyes revealing how deeply he was stung. 

“Guess not,” he said. “I’ll see you around, Bonnie.”

She didn’t answer for so long he feared she would not at all. But she was still looking at him.

“I should hope not, Lewis,” she finally said. 

With that, she turned on her heel and walked out of the wing. Dick looked at Bonnie and then at his friend. He had never seen Lewis look so guilty. There was a deep remorse there, which indicated a great impact on his life, but Dick could not recall Lewis ever mentioning this woman. 

“What did you do to her?” Dick asked. 

Lewis cleared his throat before he answered. “Did I ever tell you how I met Kathy?”

Dick shook his head. 

“Well, Bonnie and I were dating,” Lewis began. “Kathy was her best friend. And, well...we fell in love. Behind Bonnie’s back. We had an affair for six months before we came clean.”

Dick blinked, taken aback. He knew Lewis was not the most ethical person in the world, but he did not expect his friend to be capable of something like that. He didn’t blame Bonnie at all for the way she spoke to Lewis. That kind of betrayal went deep because it was not just her boyfriend, but the one person she was supposed to be able to rely on when her boyfriend messed up. And then, to add insult to injury, they ended up married. Now, Dick was impressed with how Bonnie handled the news of the divorce. She had every right to laugh in his face. And she didn’t.

“Did you apologize?” Dick asked. 

“Oh, only about a thousand times,” Lewis replied. “And even after some time went by, Kathy and I tried to reach out again, but she wanted nothing to do with us. And we didn’t blame her, of course, but it still hurt.”

A beat passed. Lewis watched the door where Bonnie disappeared and wondered now if his split from Kathy was his punishment for what he did to her. That he and Kathy - because they started as a transgression - were perhaps doomed to fail. 

“C’mon, Nix,” Dick said. “Let’s go get something to eat.”

“Or dink,” Lewis returned. 

They left the hospital, but he found himself wishing he could find her again. Explain some more. But he knew better.

The following morning, Bonnie went to change an IV for a young corporal who had drunkenly jumped from a fourth story window and broken his leg. Many of the injuries she treated these days were caused by the jubilance of VE-Day, and she couldn’t say she blamed them, but she did wish they would be more careful. 

“Thanks, Nurse Butler,” the corporal said. 

“I’m just doing my job,” she replied gently. “This’ll only take a moment.”

She reached for the bag, when she suddenly heard a dreaded voice from behind her. 

“Careful with those, they can get messy,” Lewis said. 

She whipped around. 

“I’m sorry, don’t I first open my eyes and realize it’s a new day?” she asked sarcastically.

“I didn’t -”

“What is this magic bag in front of me?!” she exclaimed, holding the IV bag out with taunting wonder. 

“Look -”

“I’ve done this before,” she said sharply, becoming serious again and facing the patient, who was snickering.

“I know that,” he said.

“Then stop telling me what to do,” she retorted.

“I was joking,” he said calmly. “I’m sorry.”

“You should be,” she shot back, with a bitterness that told him she meant more than just the joke.

He did not speak again until after the IV was replaced. When she finished, she ignored Lewis and began walking away. 

“Bonnie, wait, I think we should talk about things,” he said, trailing behind her. 

“I disagree,” she replied. “Besides, I’m working.”

“When is your shift over?” 

“You know I’m not going to tell you that.”

“Please -”

She halted and whirled around. He skidded to a stop a few feet away. 

“What is it you’re so desperate to tell me?” she demanded. “That you’re sorry? Because I’ve heard that before, Lewis, and I don’t care.”

“You really can’t forgive me?” he asked. “After all this time?”

She wondered that herself often enough. But there was too much. Not only the betrayal, but the effects of it. How could she forgive him for the worthless way she felt? How could she forgive him for her now ingrained lack of trust? How could she forgive him for the nights she spent crying on the kitchen floor, convinced that this was what love felt like? 

His eyes clung to her gaze, and she endured a long moment of weakness where she felt totally incapable of turning away from him. But she knew she could now because she had done it before. 

“No,” she said, surprised by the croak in her voice and the lump in her throat. 

She didn’t wait for him to answer. She walked away, and thankfully, he didn’t follow. 

Another day passed. Lewis did not return to the hospital, and Bonnie was relieved. She worked the rest of her shift in peace. The only disturbance was a violent thunderstorm, which rumbled in the sky and pelted rain down against the roof all day.

When her shift concluded, it was still raining. Unwilling to get drenched, she went to the doctor’s lounge, which nurses frequented as well, for a drink. She had the next day off, so she figured she could afford to get a little tipsy. Her true goal was to get Lewis Nixon off her mind, but as she walked in, she met a dismal sight. There he sat at the bar, nursing a whiskey, looking sadly at a letter. 

She looked at the heavens to address God directly.

“You think you’re so funny, don’t you?”

She waited a moment, but received no reply. So with a sigh, she went over to the bar and took the stool beside Lewis. 

“You know, if you’re not medical personnel, you’re not really supposed to be in here,” she said.

He looked at her. “Are you speaking to me now?”

“I never said we can’t speak in general,” she said. “Just not about our past.”

“I see,” he returned. “Well, to address your earlier statement, this is the only place they have Vat 69 in all of Europe apparently.”

“You’re still drinking that nasty stuff?” she asked, wrinkling her nose.

“You’re not?”

She shook her head. “No, I’ve moved on.”

With that, she ordered a gin and tonic. They waited in silence as the bartender prepared it. The soft clink of ice and pop of the gin bottle might as well have been explosions. There were no other patrons to fill up the space. 

“So, are we gonna catch up?” he wondered. “Like old friends?”

“I don’t think we were ever really friends,” she replied. “If we were, you wouldn’t have done what you did.”

“Ah, ah, ah,” he warned jokingly. “That is forbidden territory.”

“Do you wanna talk or do you wanna fuck around?” she retorted. 

“If we’re not gonna address the elephant in the room, I’d argue that all we’re doing is fucking around,” he said. 

She couldn’t help but chuckle at that. As she relaxed into her chair and took a sip of her drink, memories of them laughing together swam before her. Those tidbits of happiness that she locked away so that they couldn’t hurt her anymore. Back when she thought of him as her whole world. 

“Alright, let’s fuck around,” she said. 

She let him go first. He talked about his son, then about joining the Airborne, about meeting Dick Winters, and he even admitted that he never fired a shot in combat. She told him about nursing school, enlisting, and a bit about her journey through Europe. It was all very surface level and appropriate. But it wasn’t them. 

“Would I be trespassing if I asked about your parents?” he wondered after their third round.

She considered it as she sipped her fourth cocktail. They grew up together, so she supposed it was fair. 

“Fine,” she said. “But it might depress you. Dad passed away, and Mom really hasn’t been the same since.”

“I’m sorry,” he said. “They were always nice to me. Even after…”

She nodded, turning her glass on the counter, keeping her watering eyes focused on it. As her mother deteriorated, she kept asking where “that angel Lewis” was. Mrs. Butler doted on Lewis Nixon as if he were her own son. And Bonnie’s was not the only heart broken when everything happened. But now Mrs. Butler was stuck in a time before that, and Bonnie never had the heart to remind her that things were different now. 

“She asks about you,” Bonnie blurted out. “Mom does.”

“And what do you say?” he asked. 

“I tell her you’re coming any day now,” she said. “Of course she doesn’t know the difference. She can’t remember anything.”

He half smiled. “Well, I better go see her so I don’t make a liar out of you.”

She half smiled back. “That’d mean a lot to her.” 

She paused a beat while a doctor and another nurse filed in and took up two stools just a few seats away from her and Lewis. The other two were obviously romantic - their knees touched, their hands lingered close to each other, and they hardly looked at the bartender as they ordered. They were so wrapped up in each other. Bonnie felt the distance between her and Lewis was cavernous in comparison. She took a dink.  

“Um, how are your folks? Feeling alright?” she asked after swallowing.

“Oh, they’re the same as ever,” he said. “A little cold, a little rich. They’re gonna lose it when I tell them about the divorce.”

“You’re a grown man,” she reminded him. “What could they do?”

“You act like growing up means your parents can’t be obnoxious,” he said. “They can and they will.”

She bit her lip with hesitation. “Can I ask you something? It might be crossing a line.”

“Honey, I’m on my fifth whiskey, you can ask me whatever you want,” he assured her, knocking back the last gulp in his glass.

“Why can’t it work between you and Kath - your wife?” she asked. 

She couldn’t bring herself to say the name. Calling her “Kathy” made her who Kathy was. Bonnie’s former best friend who betrayed her in the worst way possible. Calling her “his wife” reduced her to an abstract. She could be anyone in theory. 

“She met someone else,” he answered. “Ironically enough.”

The air around them felt thick again. 

“You can laugh,” he said. “It must feel like poetic justice or something to you.”

She shook her head. “The last thing I feel like doing is laughing. That kind of hurt is not something I would wish on anyone, not even you.”

“It feels like you’re supporting me, but just barely,” he joked. 

She offered a smile. “I’m sorry, Lew. Really, I am.”

“Thanks,” he said. “But how on Earth are you so goddamn understanding?”

Her brow furrowed. “What? I’m not being understanding. I still think you’re rude for what you did.”

He blinked. “Rude?!”

“Yes, rude!” she cried. “You wanna cheat on me? That’s fine! You wanna marry that girl and get her pregnant? Fine! But to make it my best friend? That’s just rude!”

He laughed. An old, buried admiration for his smile crept up into her heart - right along the very cracks he had created and she had forced back together, never fully repairing the damage. She looked away, only to see the other couple was kissing now, and Bonnie had to turn her back to them.

“Well, I apologize for my rudeness,” he said.

“Based on the situation, I’m sure it won’t happen again,” she replied. 

“Ouch,” he said. “But well deserved on my part.”

“I’ll say,” she agreed. “But...can I ask you one more thing?”

“We have already crossed way beyond the line, go ahead,” he said.

“If you two felt that way about each other,” she began. “Why didn’t you just tell me? If you had been honest, I would have told you I’d be fine. I would never have stood in the way of your happiness. The lie hurt me more than the blow to my ego.”

He took a drink of his fresh glass of whiskey and swished it in his mouth briefly before swallowing - a tactic she was familiar with. He was constructing a careful answer.

“First of all, in fairness to us, we had no way of knowing that,” he said. “Second of all, and perhaps worst of all, we...we didn’t want to hurt you.”

“But don’t you see how it’s worse that you -”

“Of course,” he cut across her. “Of course we see how what we did was worse. We were young and stupid and afraid. And look where we are now.”

At that, they both finished their drinks. She bounced her foot a moment as what she was about to say bubbled up. Could she really say it? Did she mean it? She glanced at his face and got her answer. 

“Okay,” she said. “I’m ready.”

“To what?” he asked. “I hope it’s to tell those two to get a room.”

He nodded down the bar at the doctor and nurse. Their drinks remained untouched, but the same could not be said for their legs or their backsides. Bonnie snorted.

“C’mon, give them a break,” she said. “You remember what it was like when it was new.”

“Oh, yeah,” he said fondly. “Remember that time at Joan Watson’s party, when you and I went upstairs and -”

She squeaked to cut him off and her face went beet red. A fleeting memory of his hands on a lot more than her legs made her squirm in her seat. She cleared her throat. 

“As I was saying,” she said firmly. 

“Right, sorry,” he said through a chuckle. “What is it you’re ready for?”

“To forgive you,” she told him. “We’re both different people now, aren’t we?”

He nodded slowly. “Yeah, I’d say that’s true.”

He sat up a little straighter, appearing lighter. He pursed his lips too, fighting the grin that was spreading across his face.

“Wanna get out of here?” she suggested. 

“I’m still enjoying my whiskey,” he said. 

“Don’t you think you’ve had enough whiskey for - I dunno - a lifetime?”

“Not my lifetime.”

She rolled her eyes. He met her gaze and smirked. Then, he got to his feet, and offered her his hand. She took it, and they touched for the first time since what they each thought was to be the last time. Who could have imagined they would find each other again in Austria? So far from home and everything they knew together? And yet, through clasped hands, they felt that home was not so far away after all.

He helped her off the stool, they paid, and then walked outside together. The clouds had disappeared and the sun was beating down a fresh, fragrant warmth. The air was clear. The storm had passed. 

[lucastheunlucky]

questioned - lucas&roland

Summary: Lucas is questioned by Roland about the ‘Dairy Queen’ mess, and asks why he was attacked and by who. Luke can’t explain it all, but Roland believes him that he’s a cop, and worse, that a few people in his precinct might be dirty. Roland is taking the case on, and released Luke.

Luke was still exhausted, which didn’t entirely make sense, being that he’s been knocked out for two days now. Finally awake, he was able to eat a meal, but everything ached enough to make his appetite non-existent. He was hooked up to a vital stand, an IV, and a catheter, and still forced to be handcuffed to the bed that he had to work hard not to disassociate or sleep more. Not that he was left alone. As hours went by, he was still not permitted to speak to anyone. He heard his older brother was here for him, and Luke just wanted Miles to bring him home so he didn’t do something stupid-- like go down to the street and let this hunter take him. Cause it was on his mind, doing something stupid like that seemed the only answer that didn’t end in blood or murder. He desperately needed someone to tell him not too, his mind so close to giving up it felt final in nature. Miles would reassure him right? He’d tell him he didn’t have too. That together they could kill this guy. Stop it for good. 

Just a moment to gather his thoughts was all he was given until he had to speak to a therapist about his mental health. Which, he lied profusely about. The guy probably saw through him, but Luke didn’t give them an inch in their search to find out if he meant what he said earlier about wanting to die, admitting he was just delirious from the anesthetic. They left without much. The cop by the door walked away soon after, and Lucas knew it was time to figure out what he wanted to say. When he saw the Sargent his insides soured against his will, and his fists curled gently under the blankets.  

While the evidence from the scene left them with more questions than answers, Roland hoped Lucas would be able to provide some answers. With results back from Forensics and their overview of the scene, it was plain to see that Lucas had not initiated the attack at the Dairy Queen. The question was, who did and why? Miles had mentioned a dirty cop and he checked the surveillance footage from that area for the short period of time Lucas had been in his cell, but it was conveniently missing. It screamed inside work and Roland would not tolerate that. Not in his station. Cops who played outside the law gave all of them a bad name and shirked their responsibility to the community. Looking over Lucas, he wasn’t in good shape and he could tell his presence left him feeling on edge. 

Roland tried to make himself a little less domineering, softening his face and brow line while holding up the key to the cuffs, “Mr. Washington,” he said calmly, “Before anything, I’m going to remove your cuffs. Evidence points to you not being the one who started the attack.” He reached out and asked, “May I?” He didn’t want to encroach on his space and make him feel as if he didn’t have power in this situation. The footage being tampered with had the sergeant believing Miles must have been right about there being a dirty cop involved. He wouldn’t get anywhere if the kid didn’t trust enough to give an honest statement. 

“Yeah, go ahead,” Lucas said carefully. Desperate for it to be off his wrist, not that it was difficult to break out of cuffs, but the idea around it saying he was guilty of something left him sour and depressed. He didn’t know what else to say, not sure what he was going to be asked, or if he even should say something on it and incriminate himself. “Thank you.” 

Roland gently unlocked the cuffs and linked them back on to his work belt. “Thank you, Mr. Washington,” he responded, keeping his features relaxed as he took a seat in the chair next to his bed. “Can you start by telling me what happened at the Dairy Queen? It appears the attack was aimed specifically at you.” 

Lucas swallowed thickly. “Why do you think that? I was just--” he didn’t know how to word any of this and he didn’t want to bring up Nico either. “There.”

Roland could tell the man was clearly still uneasy. “You can relax,” he leaned back a bit in his chair to give him more space, “Footage shows you were inside during the attack that clearly came from outside. Security footage from your cell during the timeframe you were in it also mysteriously disappeared. Trying to get a grasp on the situation so we can put the right guys behind bars.” 

“I can’t really relax Sarge.” So the footage was deleted, great. Just great, so there were other cops involved. How could he ever figure out who to trust. “I mean, I-- really,” Lucas sighed, looking down, he'd avoided this exact scenario when he got shot in the head. This questioning couldn’t ever be fully truthful, this was why he didn’t say anything before. “I don’t know what happened. I was drinking a milkshake and then the window blew out. Maybe they were after me.”

“I understand,” Roland answered plainly. He suspected Miles may have been right about the cop thing which made Lucas less likely to trust him with the truth. He detested the idea of someone abusing their power for personal gain. They were paid on the taxpayer’s dime and they had a responsibility to the community to uphold. “All evidence points to them targeting you. You were the only one hurt and your blood was the only blood spilled on the scene. Have you noticed anyone following or have you received any odd threats?”

Lucas was so close to deliriously laughing it really fucked with his head for a moment because this was serious but he just couldn’t wrap his head around it. “Oh yeah?” he wasn’t surprised, it could have been quite different had he not been born this way. Those humans would have been splattered on the pavement. “I’ve--” he paused, clearly struggling. “I can’t tell you anything. If you are going to look into this, I really have to be left out of it. Or you will get me killed.”

Roland’s brow furrowed as Lucas spoke. Miles had definitely been right. “So it is a cop then. Your brother mentioned as much. Would explain why the security footage from your cell went missing. There is someone entering the area shown on tape right before you were rushed to the hospital.” He paused and let out a long sigh, “If you don’t tell me what’s happening, I can’t help as effectively. I take my job very seriously and the thought of someone abusing their power is very upsetting to me and isn’t how I want my department being ran.” 

Lucas’ face stilled, and his chest lifted a little faster, and the monitor he was on, suddenly made a sharp beep to mark his distress. Finally able to move his right arm, he gripped the bandage with his hand. “You don’t know what you are getting into Sarge,” his voice shook. “I’m--” terrified of this man. The words stayed unspoken. “I’m unable to tell you, I can’t do it-- he,” he gritted his teeth. “He always gets away with it. Since I was--” His hand tightened. “A kid. You investigate him, interrogate him--” He shook his head. “I can’t believe for a moment, any of it will stick and I’ll be punished for it. No hiding will save me. Please don’t do this.” 

The classic signs of trauma were present in Washington. Roland acknowledged how difficult it was for him to talk about this and apparently it had been going on for years. Why would a cop be harassing a kid though? It was likely Lucas wasn’t the only person he was doing this to either, but if he knew why, maybe he could find a pattern. “This isn’t the first time I’ve worked to take down a dirty cop. I know what I’m doing. If he’s doing this to you, it means he’s doing it to others.” His tone was firm as he added, “Why is he after you? If I can find a pattern, I can find evidence. They already got sloppy leaving the weapons and truck on the scene.” 

Lucas shook his head. “They aren’t the same,” he couldn’t believe he said that, it wasn’t exactly the truth but it would also maybe, make more sense for the Sarge to look at it that way. “These are two different things. Two cases. This--” He motioned to his arm. It all sounded stupid on his tongue, and he felt frustrated with himself that he couldn’t just admit everything. Feeling like he really needed to give him something he added. “There are other times when he arrested me. Many times. Since I was fourteen, fifteen, I grew up here. No one ever stopped him. I don’t know if that helps, if there is a paper trail. I never went to the precinct though.”

Roland was glad Lucas was giving him something to work with. A paper trail and taking a deeper look into those cases could uncover their dirty cop. The notion alone made him sick. Cops like that ruined everything the force was supposed to stand for. “Previous arrest records. I could work with that. There’ll have to be a link somewhere there.” He paused, looking over Lucas, everything in his body language indicated he was being as forthcoming as he felt safe being. “I understand if you don’t feel safe telling me more. I can leave my card, just in case you change your mind.”

“Okay, I--” he paused, thinking for a long moment about the why and if he could say something on it that didn’t confuse the situation. But Luke swallowed it down, and nodded. “Okay.” He didn’t feel better about all this, but at least he could see Miles soon, and get out of here.

[vexedtonightmares]

last dance (elu ballet au) chapter dix

Lucas is in his final year at the Paris Opera Ballet School and he’ll be damned if he lets his former friend-turned-rival Eliott steal the lead role in their production of Swan Lake.

aka- lucas and eliott are rivals who are forced to room together for their final year of ballet school before they try to enter the company. we can all see where this is going.  

i. ii. iii. iv. v. vi. vii. viii. ix. x.

ao3

**tw: eating disorders/ idealization of disordered eating**

Jeudi 15:33                                   

Imane and Lucas were taking a break while the director ran through a few things with Manon and Eliott that they, the understudies, didn’t need to be a part of. She was studying him carefully as they stretched side by side, and he pretended not to notice. He had no idea why she was watching him as such, but it couldn’t mean anything good. 

Eliott looked so beautiful as he danced, Lucas could hardly keep his eyes off him. Technically, he was supposed to avoid looking at Eliott at all costs, but watching him practice had to be an exception. He didn’t get as hot and bothered when he was focusing on how Eliott was dancing, so that’s what he did. 

Lucas had always envied Eliott’s turn out, even when they were kids. His turn out rivaled even Manon’s, and hers was so spectacular that she could nearly rotate her entire leg so her calf faced upward when she held her leg up in a la seconde. Lucas had worked for years on his turn out and, while it was pretty good, he’d never be anywhere near where Eliott was naturally. He allowed himself to be annoyed by it now, only because he knew he could get extra kisses from his annoyance later. 

He watched the veins of Eliott’s arms as he extended them out to Manon before lifting her and continuing with their choreography. They were pronounced enough that they flexed through his skin slightly with each movement, drawing Lucas’ gaze up and down his arms. So much for not getting hot and bothered by watching Eliott dance. 

“I wasn’t going to say anything, but what the hell is going on with you?” Imane asked in a low hiss. 

Lucas dragged his gaze away sharply, hoping his cheeks weren’t as red as he assumed they were. “What are you talking about?”

She sighed like he was the biggest idiot in the world. “First you go off on Eliott at that party, then you disappear for days, then Manon says you’re acting all optimistic and sappy, both of which are so not you—” 

He opened his mouth to argue but she held a hand up, silencing him before he could even get a word in. 

“—Yann says you haven’t talked to him at all since the party, you’re not spending all your time in the studio for extra practice, you look like you’ve actually been sleeping, and you keep glaring at Manon and Eliott like they ran over your puppy or something. I know you hate Eliott, we all know, but come on. Weren’t things getting better between you two recently?” she finished with an exasperated breath. 

Well, at least his lovesick staring was interpreted as glaring. He’d been so sure Imane had been onto his and Eliott’s relationship. She was pretty smart, after all, and not as oblivious as he wished she would be sometimes. Maybe he was better at hiding his love than he thought he was, which was another cause for celebration. 

He mulled over what to say in his head, knowing that no matter what Imane probably wouldn’t be satisfied. “I’ve been really behind on our online classwork, hence why I was MIA all weekend. Also I was sick, just a small bug I guess, because I’m better now. As for yelling at Eliott at the party… I don’t know what to say, he deserved it. Yes, I was a little bit drunk, but he’s an asshole, so…”

“Lucas please, we’ve talked about this,” Imane groaned. 

He glared at her. “You were the one who asked, if you didn’t want me to profess my hatred for Eliott, you should have let it be.” It was thrilling, in a small way, to talk about Eliott as if he wasn’t head over heels for him. Part of him felt a little bad he was keeping up this ruse, but they’d both decided it would be easier to hide their relationship if everyone thought they still hated each other. Or, that Lucas still hated Eliott, because apparently it had never quite gone both ways. “Things will never get better between us, I’m just riding the rest of the year out and hoping to end up in a company that he’s not in.”

That was a lie, a bit fat lie. All he’d been thinking about recently was him and Eliott joining a company together, falling a little more in love every day and supporting each other through it all. What a dream it would be to live together outside of the school, going on dates or just staying in bed all day on their days off without anyone interrupting them. 

Imane didn’t look entirely convinced, but she let it go. “I’m just worried about you, Lucas.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Oh yeah?” he asked with a small smirk. 

“Shut up.” She nudged him with her foot, rolling her eyes. “I’m allowed to be worried about you.”

“Because you love me and you care about me?” he prompted, fluttering his eyelashes. 

“I’m not even dignifying that with a response.”

He leaned closer to her grinning widely and posing with his hands under his chin. “Because I’m your best bud?” 

She scoffed. “We are not best buds.”

“We so are.”

“The gay guy and the muslim. Best. Buds.”

“Not a chance,” she said with a small smile. Lucas met her eyes and the two of them laughed together, hiding their mouths with their hands so as to not draw attention and get kicked out of class. She sighed once their laughter had subsided. “Ok, fine. We’re buds.”

“Best buds?”

“Don’t push your luck dingbat.”

Lucas laughed so hard that he had to pretend he was having a coughing attack, Eliott catching his eye halfway through, biting his lip to keep from laughing as well. Lucas rolled his eyes at his boyfriend, fond smile working its way over his face. Forcing himself to focus back on Imane, he coughed one last time. “Dingbat is a new one.”

She wiggled her eyebrows mischievously. “There’s plenty more where that came from.”

“I don’t doubt that for a second,” he agreed. The director called them back up to participate a moment later, and not a moment too soon because Lucas was mere seconds away from either bursting into another fit of laughter or staring Eliott down despite the promises he made to himself.

Eliott was probably going to be the death of him, but he found that he didn’t mind going out this way. He’d die a thousand times for Eliott’s smile. 

Samedi 18:21

Lucas and Eliott had been in the studio all day working on Polaris. Since Eliott had asked him to compose, Lucas had been anxious to begin, even if he still had some doubts about his composition skills. So far he’d played a variety of melodies until Eliott heard something he liked, then built off that. He had no idea if this was how composition was supposed to work, but Eliott’s excitement was contagious.

“Not to be gay, but if you don’t come over here and kiss me in the next two seconds I might explode,” Lucas said from the piano bench, watching Eliott go over various phrases he’d created, trying to match and adapt them to the meoldy Lucas had been working on. 

Eliott paused and raised his eyebrows, but came closer until he was standing above where Lucas was sitting down. He leaned down, whispering softly to Lucas before bringing their lips together. “Why would you say ‘not to be gay’ and then do just that?”

Lucas broke away from the kiss, pouting. “I can’t help being gay around you.”

“Can you ever?”

“Yes. I could totally pretend I was straight if I wanted to, you’re just lucky I don’t want to.”

Eliott hummed, leaning back in. “Lucky indeed.”

Lucas opened his mouth to invite Eliott in further, leaning back unconsciously until he was lying down on the piano bench, Eliott hovering over him, still locked in a passionate embrace. Lucas pulled him closer still, never getting enough of Eliott. He didn’t think he ever would, he’d always crave everything that Eliott was, a hunger never satisfied. 

Thinking about hunger, he realized that the two of them had been working so long they’d completely forgotten to eat.  A part of Lucas was satisfied, glad that Eliott wasn’t watching over him like a fragile piece of glass that might break under pressure anymore, and another part felt guilty. He shoved that part down, choosing instead to focus back in on the taste of Eliott, the way his hands moved from Lucas’ hair to his face, to his ribcage, to— 

A loud thud sounded as Eliott’s hand slipped off the edge of the narrow piano bench and he tumbled to the ground, nearly taking Lucas with him. Lucas sat up, looking stunned down at him on the ground. Eliott gazed back up at him for a second before Lucas burst into laughter. Eliott frowned up at him. 

“Really?” he demanded, but the corners of his mouth twitched. Lucas laid back down on the bench, this time on his stomach so he could look down at Eliott. He was still laughing, body bouncing up and down with each inhale and exhale. Eliott reached up with one hand and Lucas laced their fingers together, closing his eyes to the simple bliss of holding hands with the boy he loved until he felt Eliott pulling him and he slid off the bench, onto Eliott. 

“Really?” he mimicked, but now Eliott was laughing too. “Why is that your go to move?” he asked, giggling and pressing his head into Eliott’s chest. He shifted so he was straddling Eliott, lifting his head and fixing Eliott with a desire filled gaze. Eliott’s laughs subsided and his eyes softened, neck stretching up as Lucas bent back down, meeting each other halfway. 

There was nothing in the world Lucas wouldn’t do with Eliott, and he intended to start now. Just as Eliott placed his hands underneath Lucas’ shirt, fingers tracing the lines of his ribcage lightly, the door to the studio rattled. It must have been the director coming to do studio checks.  

Lucas scrambled off Eliott, both of them standing up and gathering up their things. They could hear a voice on the other side of the door and they panicked. Their allotted studio time was supposed to have ended a few hours ago, and they’d be in trouble if anyone found them in there past when the studio had been booked.

Eliott nodded to the only other door in the room, the door to the closet that held the studio cleaning supplies, weights, thera bands, and anything else anyone might need for practice. Lucas didn’t spare a moment, grabbing Eliott’s outstretched hand and letting himself be led into the small enclosed space. They’d barely closed the door behind them when the director walked in. 

Only… it wasn’t the director. It was Manon and Daphné. Lucas squinted through the slatted gaps in the door, allowing them to see out— barely so— but not allowing anyone to see in. Lucas groaned internally, they’d be stuck there all night. Daphné and Manon had both been freaking out about getting extra practice time earlier in the week, so of course they’d had to choose the one studio Eliott and Lucas had been using. 

Eliott tapped his fingers on Lucas’ wrist, looking at him questioningly. Lucas sighed dramatically as he could without making a sound and nodded to Eliott’s phone, pulling his own out. 

Lucas: We’re going to be stuck in here a while

Eliott: i don’t mind ;)))

Lucas: :)

Eliott: just a smiley ? :((

Lucas: Ha, sorry

Eliott: u good lu?

Lucas snapped his head up, catching the way Eliott’s eyes were illuminated by the light of his phone. It wasn’t the first time Eliott had called him Lu, but it was the first time since they’d gotten over themselves and gotten together for real. It struck a chord in his heart, making heat rise to his cheeks, almost making him forget the fact they were stuck in a dark, small closet.

Eliott frowned, raising his eyebrows and nodding down to his phone. There was so much earnest in the way Eliott looked at him, and it was exactly what Lucas needed at that moment. 

Lucas: Yeah

Lucas: Just a little uncomfortable is all

Eliott: oh? i can try to move a bit

Lucas: No, no, that’s not why

Eliott: are u claustrophobic ??

Lucas: No

Eliott met Lucas’ gaze again, question in his eyes. Lucas didn’t want to say it out loud, or over text, because Eliott would probably laugh, and then Manon and Daphné would find them and they’d have a lot of questions to answer. Also, who was scared of the dark at his age?

Eliott: lu… 

Lucas: It’s nothing, let’s just see how much longer man and daph are going to be

Eliott: bs

Eliott: u don’t have to tell me, i guess, but i don’t want u to be uncomfortable :(

Lucas: Please, Eli

Grudgingly, Eliott put away his phone, leaning his head back against the side of the closet. Their legs were somewhat entangled, knees pulled up, and Lucas tried to focus on that instead of the overwhelming darkness. His phone timed out and turned off, causing him to stiffen involuntarily, turning it back on in a hurry. Eliott caught the movement eyes going wide as he brought his phone back out.

Eliott: you’re still afraid of the dark

Lucas: No I’m not

Eliott: yes u are

Lucas: Please don’t laugh

Eliott: why would i laugh?

Lucas: Because you always used to laugh about it

Eliott: i’m very mature now, i’ll have u know

Lucas: You pulled me into a fountain

Eliott: only after you pushed me!

Lucas: Yes, but I never claimed to be mature

Eliott: … fair

Lucas snickered quietly, earning him a light kick from Eliott. He bit his lip, shrugging and pretending he had no idea why Eliott was glaring at him. 

Eliott: ok so u can laugh at me then?

Lucas: Yes, it’s outlined in the rules of our relationship

Eliott: before or after ‘lucas gets no kisses if he laughs at eliott’

Lucas: *gasp* You wouldn’t.

Eliott: … 

Lucas: Ok, fine, I take back my laughter 

Eliott: :)))

Lucas: Idiot

Lucas: Why do I love you again?

Eliott: you love me?

Shit, had he really just texted that? He’d wanted the first time he said it to be, preferably, not over text while hiding in a supply closet. Literally anywhere else. Eliott wouldn’t meet his eyes, watching his phone like it held the answers to the secrets of the universe. 

“Yes,” Lucas whispered, voice low enough that the music from outside covered it, “I love you, Eliott.” 

His brain didn’t tell him too fast too fast too fast, it didn’t tell him that Eliott didn’t actually love him back, despite saying so, it didn’t tell him that he was all alone. Instead it was bursting with love and light, thinking about them, their future, the ways Eliott’s eyes told him that he would always have a home with him, the way a brushing of their hands communicated so much more than a faint touch. It didn’t scare him anymore, and he figured if he could find someone to help him get over his fear of being unloved and abandoned, he could get over his fear of the dark with the same person.

Eliott: i love you too

Eliott: but you already knew that

Lucas: Eh, doesn’t hurt to hear it a few more times

Eliott: good, because i plan on telling you every single day for the rest of our lives

Lucas: Promise?

Eliott: promise.

Lucas couldn’t help himself, didn’t care if Manon and Daphné heard them, he dropped his phone in his lap and leaned forward grabbing the back of Eliott’s neck and pulling them together. He could feel Eliott smiling against his mouth, and he was pretty sure he was doing the same. Eliott’s hands found their preferred resting spot on both sides of his face and Lucas melted into the touch, wondering once again how he’d gone without it for so long.

The music shut off and Lucas became aware of his breath, of Eliott’s breath, of the sudden silence that engulfed the room. The two of them froze, pulling apart and peering out the gaps in the door to the best of their ability. 

Daphné was walking to the door and Manon was looking at her as she went, laughing at something Daphné must have just said. There was a moment, a blink and you’ll miss it moment, and suddenly everything became glaringly obvious. He anticipated it barely a second before it happened, only because he knew Manon nearly as well as he knew himself. How could he have not seen it before?

“Daph, I have to tell you something,” Manon’s voice rang out through the studio, reaching out for Daphné’s hand. Daphné looked at Manon’s hand on hers, then wrinkled her brows in confusion. 

“Yes?”

Manon shut her eyes, biting the inside of her cheek. Lucas could practically sense every feeling she was feeling, the fear and the doubt and the urge, nonetheless, to air all her feelings in the open. “I… I think that I—” she cut off, taking a deep breath. 

Daphné gripped Manon’s hand harder and Manon’s eyes shot open. “I think I’m in love with you Daphné.”

Daphné blinked in surprise but she didn’t pull away. Eliott reached out to tap Lucas a few times disbelievingly, accidentally smacking his face as they watched Manon look at the ground, Daphné pulling Manon closer a bit before she took a few steps herself, closer and closer until their lips touched. 

Lucas slapped Eliott back letting him know, yes, they were seeing the same thing. He was happy for them, it was hard for him not to be, especially given the conversation he had with her earlier in the week. He felt bad for not realizing it earlier, but he supposed they’d both been a little bit too wrapped up in other people that they hadn’t seen what was right in front of them. 

Manon and Daphné were still kissing, which was all well and good, but Lucas really wanted to leave the closet sometime soon. The literal closet, not the figurative one. He wondered if Manon would tell him about Daphné, but then figured it would be a bit hypocritical for him to be mad if she didn’t, given his own secret relationship. 

Finally, after what felt like an eternity to them, but probably only an instant to Manon and Daphné, they left hand in hand. He hoped Imane was already asleep, he didn’t know if she would be too pleased with her roommates hooking up in the suite they all shared. Not everyone was as lucky as Lucas was with Eliott. 

As soon as he was absolutely certain they were gone, Lucas pushed open the doors, wasting no time tumbling out. Eliott followed him, closing the closet door gently behind him before turning to Lucas with wide eyes. “Manon and Daphné! I never saw that one coming, Charles and Manon always had that sexual tension or whatever…”

“I know,” Lucas said in disbelief. In all honesty, he was glad it wasn’t Charles. He hadn’t treated Manon the best, but always framed their disputes in a way that Manon blamed herself, at least from what Manon had told him over the summer, so he was happy she’d fallen for someone who saw her worth. At least he hoped so, if Daphné didn’t… he knew where to hide her body. 

“Like you and Lucille, right?” Lucas added with a smirk. He didn’t really know or care much about Eliott and Lucille’s brief relationship, but Eliott had all but told him he’d never really loved Lucille in the way he loved him, so he wasn’t too worried about it. 

Eliott laughed at the insinuation, ruffling his hair with one hand. “Appearances aren’t all they seem to be, noted.”

“You didn’t know that already?” Lucas teased. “Everyone still thinks I hate you.”

“Yeah, about that, you could take it a bit easier on me now, right?” Eliott grinned, holding out both of his hands so Lucas could fold them into his. 

Lucas scoffed, faking a loud laugh. “Where’s the fun in that?”

“You’re right,” Eliott conceded, “The only thing that keeps me away from you in class is knowing that everyone thinks we hate each other.”

“That’s all?” Lucas pulled Eliott closer to him stretching their arms out to the side. His face was level with Eliott’s chest, so he looked up at Eliott, glint in his eyes. He loved their height difference, he really did. 

“Mmmm.” Eliott leaned his head down, brushing their noses together before scrunching his nose up against Lucas’ intentionally. Lucas repeated the action and the two of them dissolved into giggles, Lucas pulling away long enough to make sure they had everything they’d brought to the studio with them before planting a quick peck on Eliott’s lips and pulling him after him into the hallway. It seemed that this was how most of their nights in the studio ended, and Lucas wouldn’t change a thing. 

Lundi 17:03

That had been the worst day of practices Lucas had in a long time. Not because he, or anyone else, did anything wrong, but he could tell that the pressure was getting to them all, instructors included. The show was approaching rapidly, even though it still seemed so far away. Eliott was back in the director’s good graces, which was good because rehearsals probably would have entered an entirely new level of hell if he hadn’t been. Lucas couldn’t even imagine what it would be like if Manon somehow fell from grace. 

Lucas had stayed behind after class to walk back to the suites with Manon, wondering if she would say anything about the weekend’s events. It was fine if she didn’t, but Lucas hoped she would. Maybe he would confide about Eliott too, without saying his name. 

“Well that was something,” she said, and he nodded in agreement. 

“It’s do or die time, if things don’t start looking perfect it’s the guillotine for all of us,” he said. 

Manon smacked his shoulder, but he heard a small laugh. “So dramatic.”

“I know, how did I not know I was gay until I kissed Chloé?” he professed, spreading his arms wide in faux disbelief. 

“You’re ridiculous,” she said, shaking her head, “Why do I love you again?”

The words punched him in the gut, a brief reminder of all that had transpired between him and Eliott, stuck in that tiny closet. She didn’t know about any of that, though, so he smiled wider than the conversation probably prompted, and slung an arm around her shoulders. “Because we match.”

If he wasn’t gay, Manon would definitely be his soulmate, and he hers. Because they did match, in so many ways. She was one of the only people that knew everything, the good, the bad, the ugly, and stayed anyway. He did the same for her, knew everything about why she was living in a flatshare over the holidays instead of with her parents just like he was. So many times neither of them had to say a word, knowing exactly what the other needed, and it felt so good to have someone like that in his life after going so long without it. Eliott had become a new source of that same kind of comfort, and Lucas hoped Daphné would be able to do the same for Manon. 

“I have to tell you something,” Manon said quietly, and Lucas knew what she was going to say. He pulled her closer to him, looking at her earnestly. She continued, “This weekend, I took your advice, and I—”

“Lulu! Finally!” Arthur interrupted the two of them, poking his head out the door to his suite as they walked past. Lucas glowered at him in a way that said not now, but Arthur continued to grin at the two of them. 

Manon, surprisingly, slipped out of his grip, grinning widely. He grabbed her hand before she could walk away. “Hey, Manon, wait a second—”

“No, don’t worry about it. I’ll talk to you later, I promise!” she shook her head, and Lucas narrowed his eyes suspiciously. Why was she acting so happy all of a sudden? He could tell it wasn’t a ruse, because he could tell when she was being genuine and when she wasn’t. 

“Ok…”

“Bye Lucas, Arthur. I have to get back to my suite anyway, Imane’s making dinner,” she said, waving over her shoulder as she walked a few doors down. Lucas watched her in confusion before turning back to Arthur. That was odd, to say the least. 

“What? We were kind of in the middle of something,” he said angrily. 

Arthur sighed, raising his hands in surrender. “Sheesh, sorry, this is just basically the first time I’ve seen you in like a week. Forget about your future husband so fast?”

It took Lucas a moment to remember what he was talking about, and then he blushed fondly at the memory. Sure, that conversation seemed almost ridiculous now, given the state of his relationship with Eliott, but it was nice to know Arthur had been genuine, drunk as he was. “No, no, of course not. Just busy,” Lucas said. 

“Right…” Arthur said, but didn’t question him further, which Lucas was grateful about. He shook his hair out of the way of his glasses, leaning against the doorframe. “Anyway, want to have a guys night? Sof said he was going to force Eliott to go out to eat with him and Idriss, so we figured you should take advantage of a night without your nemesis and his friends.”

“Eliott’s not my nemesis,” Lucas said, rolling his eyes. 

“Right, sure, archenemy then, I don’t care what you call it,” Arthur backtracked, “What do you say?”

What else could he say? If Eliott was gone there was no excuse to say no. “That sounds great.”

Arthur whooped and let Lucas into their suite, where Yann was already sitting on the couch setting up a video game. Lucas was a disaster when it came to video games, but he figured he might enjoy a night with his best friends, doing something completely mind numbing. If anything, it might tear his thoughts away from that day’s disastrous rehearsals. 

Lucas sat beside Yann, giving him a fist bump. Arthur called to them from the kitchen area. “Yann and I are putting a pizza in, do you have a preference between cheese and pepperoni?”

Lucas shook his head. “I’m not very hungry, plus I have leftovers that’ll go bad if I don’t eat them when I get back tonight.”

“You sure?” Arthur asked, choosing a pizza and setting the oven to the proper temperature. Was he sure? Rehearsals that day had frazzled him, making him remember why he’d all but stopped eating in the first place. He couldn’t be at the top of his game if he was eating pizza and playing video games all night, so he’d just have to choose one to make himself feel better. There were no leftovers in the fridge back in his suite, but the lie came so naturally to him. He didn’t have a problem, he didn’t. If he did, he wouldn’t have eaten the pancakes Eliott had made him the night before for dinner. Granted, he’d almost thrown them up but that had more to do with Eliott’s horrible cooking skills than anything else. 

“I’m sure,” he said, ignoring the voice in his head that told him it was the wrong thing to say. 

Mardi 13:30

“You’re not eating?” Imane asked as he came to sit down beside her. He shook his head, fumbling for an excuse and finding one easier than he probably should have. 

“I’m too nervous, I’d probably throw it all up,” he said. It was partly true. He was a bit nervous for the rest of practice that day, but he hoped it would be better than the day before. Plus, his muscles always looked more defined when he didn’t eat before practice, so none of the instructors could accuse him of slacking if he looked like he was at the top of his game. 

Imane nodded like she understood, which made his stomach roll in guilt. Just his luck, he’d end up throwing up anyway. “I feel that. What is it about this week? I swear no one was this on edge last week…”

Emma sat down at the same table as them, slamming her food down with a loud bang. Imane and Lucas both looked up at her in surprise, then at each other. They were both friends with her, but she usually didn’t join them when they were hanging out. Actually, Lucas usually didn’t join Imane for lunch either, but he knew Eliott would notice if he wasn’t eating, so he told Eliott to go get lunch with Alexia since they hadn’t seen her in a while. In some ways, they also had her to thank for them finally getting together, she’d invited them to that fateful party after all. 

“Hey, Em,” Lucas said slowly. 

She took a bite of her sandwich, looking at him like she’d just noticed he was there. “Hey?”

“Did you need something?” Imane asked, always direct and to the point. 

Emma widened her eyes, finishing chewing before she spoke up. “Oh, shit, did I interrupt something? Were you gossiping?”

“What? No,” Lucas laughed, “You just came and sat down without saying anything. Not that we aren’t pleased to have you with us…”

“Oh, I just wanted to escape Manon and Daphné,” Emma said simply. Lucas’ gaze flickered to Imane again, but she just looked confused. He didn’t know whether this meant they’d told Emma about the two of them, but not Imane, or if they were all still in the dark. 

“Why?” Imane asked. 

Emma shrugged. “They’re both acting super weird. I think they must have gotten into a fight or something, because it seems like they’re both walking on eggshells around each other. I told them to go out to lunch without me and sort out their differences.”

Lucas was pretty sure they’d been “acting weird” to get rid of Emma and go on a pseudo date, but he wasn’t supposed to know that, so he said nothing. 

“Oh, so we’re second choice?” Imane teased, and Emma snorted throwing one of her chips at Imane. 

“It was either you guys or Ingrid…” she trailed off, and the three of them shuddered more dramatically than probably necessary. Everyone else dealt with Ingrid, but she’d personally been a total asshole to the three of them more times than they could count, so they didn’t even pretend to have patience for her anymore. 

“I would have chosen Ingrid,” Lucas said, trying his damndest to keep a straight face. “I’ve missed her homophobic jokes.”

This time Lucas got a chip thrown at him, but he smiled, unable to maintain a serious expression. Lucas was glad that, despite the fact Yann was his best friend, he and Emma had also been able to maintain a nice friendship. It was nothing special, they would never be close in the way he was with Manon or the boys, but she always had his back, no questions asked, so he always had hers in return. 

The rest of the lunch hour flew by, and Lucas found that he was quite glad Emma had joined them. She took his mind off the things he should or shouldn’t have been worrying about, depending on who you asked. It also made him realize how much he’d missed in his little bubble with Eliott, because Emma always had all the gossip. 

Apparently, she and Alex had kind of been seeing each other since the party. She claimed it was just for sex, but he hadn’t seen her talk about anyone like this since Yann. Arthur, also, had supposedly hooked up with someone but refused to say who it was, even to Yann and Sofiane, who’d been pestering him about it. He was usually ready to spill about all of his adventures at the drop of a hat, so this was odd indeed. Basile had confessed his love for Daphné, the likes of which she had gracefully declined, but he didn’t seem to beaten up about it from what Emma knew from Yann. 

It was hard to take in all the information, but it was good to reenter the real world every now and then. After all, this meant that, since he was caught up on all the happenings of the students, he could disappear with Eliott again for a while and not worry about what he was missing. 

Jeudi 19:19

Lucas couldn’t quite believe what he was doing, but he couldn’t let Eliott know the truth of it. Eliott was in the shower, which usually only took about twenty minutes, give or take, so he had limited time. 

Take out an egg, crack it into the sink, wash it down the drain, leave the shell in the sink so it looked like he’d just forgotten to put it down the disposal, put a pan on the stove, melt butter over the surface, let it sit, wash it out, place it on the drying rack next to a plate and a fork he ran under the sink to give the guise of use, and wipe off the counter as if he’d spilled or gotten crumbs on it. 

It was just a one time thing, of course it was. There was just such a need for perfection that week, and none of the pressure from Monday had subsided, so Lucas figured it didn’t hurt to fall back into old habits until everything was back to normal. It wasn’t a problem, not if he controlled it. 

The door opened just as Lucas was finishing up, and he forced a smile on his face. “Good shower?”

“It would have been better with you,” Eliott confessed, standing in the doorway to the bathroom with just a towel around his waist. 

Lucas raised his eyebrows. “I don’t remember receiving an invitation.”

“Well, just know that it goes without saying from here on out,” Eliott said, and had the audacity to wink. Lucas nearly dropped the towel he was holding. Eliott smirked, knowing the effect he had on Lucas. “Did you have dinner already? I was going to make you something.”

“I decided I’d very much like to avoid food poisoning for the night,” Lucas shrugged, and Eliott’s smirk disappeared. 

“You said you love my cooking!”

Lucas winced. It was quite possible he’d only said that because he was too lovestruck to claim otherwise. “I’m sorry, your cooking is god awful.”

“Lu!”

“Eli!”

“Don’t make me come over there…”

“Oh yeah? And do what?” Lucas teased, knowing by the glint in Eliott’s eye and the way he shifted his position and his grip on the towel that he was driving Eliott as crazy as Eliott was driving him. 

Maybe he should have felt guilty about how easily Eliott believed him, but the satisfaction that rose in its place felt too good to even consider feeling guilty. 

It wasn’t a problem. He had it under control. 

Vendredi 3:58

Eliott’s soft breaths tickled Lucas’ chest as he ran a hand through Eliott’s hair. Eliott was sprawled out on top of him, deep in slumber and Lucas checked every once and a while to make sure he hadn’t woken him. 

Eliott either slept like the dead or the very much alive, jolting with every touch, refusing to stay in the same position for more than thirty seconds. That night, thankfully was a sleep like the dead night. It was comforting to Lucas to know that, even when he couldn’t sleep, Eliott could. He liked making Eliott feel safe in his arms.

He wasn’t sure why he was still awake when he knew he had to get up in about two hours, other than his mind and body hating him. For the most part, sleeping next to Eliott had helped him with his insomniatic patterns, but there was still nights like these where sleep felt like an illusion, a dream in and of itself. 

Every now and then he found himself drifting, but his body could never commit to it, jolting him awake before the sweet bliss of thoughtlessness could consume him. So, instead of focusing on the fact that he couldn’t sleep, he focused on another of the many things running through his head. 

Polaris was at the center of his thoughts, even though Swan Lake was probably more demanding at that point. Though that was just it, wasn’t it? Part of why he thought about, committed so much time to thinking about Polaris was because it wasn’t as demanding. He could take all the time he needed to make all the music perfect, and he had Eliott supporting him every step of the way. It was nice to feel like he was wanted in something he was passionate about. 

Rehearsals made him feel that way at times, but he and Imane had pretty much been cast to the side recently, working on their corps choreography instead of practicing with the leads now that they knew all of that choreography. It was frustrating, to have put so much energy into something and still be treated like he was disposable, but such was the life of a ballet dancer. He was sure it would only get worse once he entered a company full time.

If he entered a company full time. 

It was easy to pretend, with Eliott and with everyone else, that he had no doubts. Of course he’d get into a company, and from there he’d work his way up to principal dancer, no matter how long it took. But none of that was certain. He could audition for a hundred different companies and get rejected by all of them. He wasn’t the type of person that was anyone’s first choice.

He wasn’t even Eliott’s first choice, if he really thought about it. Not that he should think about it, but it was hard not to sometimes. Lucille, even if Eliott hadn’t loved her as much as Lucas, had been the first choice, and there was probably some part of Eliott that would always be aware of that. Lucas knew that there was always some part of him that would, despite the fact that he knew the love the two of them shared had nothing on Lucas and Eliott’s love. 

Lucas was the type to refuse to let himself fail in all areas of his life, so his relationship with Eliott had just become one more thing Lucas would try his hardest to make work against all circumstances, because this failure would mean losing all the light he’d come to know in the past few weeks, plunging back into the darkness he was accustomed to, but afraid of nonetheless.  

Even though he was the type of person to refuse to let himself fail, a voice in the back of his mind always reminded him that it was a great possibility. He couldn’t afford to fail, to do anything other than dance. University didn’t interest him, but neither did any other menial jobs he would need to get to survive outside of the ballet world. Maybe he had a future in composition, but he’d always wanted people to see him, not see other people dancing to his music. Why couldn’t he have both? 

Maybe he’d been conditioned to be humble to the point that he was afraid to ask for the spotlight, even when he knew he deserved it. He could talk to his friends about wanting a lead role, but he always just accepted it when he didn’t get one as if he’d known all along that this was the way it would turn out. It was frustrating, but he didn’t know how to go about changing it. 

Eliott probably could have quit dance tomorrow and been melancholy for a while, but found a new passion that he excelled at, not caring much so long as he had someone he loved by his side. Lucas wasn’t like that. He’d like to say that he was the type of person to be satisfied with a life full of love or happiness, but he knew himself. He knew he could never be happy if he wasn’t trying to make a name for himself or be the best in whatever area he pursued.

Here he was, happiest he’d ever been, but he still wasn’t satisfied. He still wanted more. Call him ambitious, prideful, he knew it was all true, and he accepted it. 

Pride was one of the deadliest sins, but Lucas saw no universe in which he could let his go. It was a part of him just as much as his hair or his eyes or his own brain. Maybe he should have tried to let it go, just a little bit, but he didn’t really know who he was without it. 

He never understood how to feel that way about a person, either, to not know how to be without them. He’d never felt like that with his mother, certainly not his father, and Manon was the only one who had ever really come close to being like a true family, but he could still survive without her if he had to. It worried him, lying there with Eliott on his chest, that Eliott might be the first person to ever make him lose himself if Eliott ever left his life. He didn’t want to be dependent, didn’t want to live a life so precariously to the point that he couldn’t exist without the love from another. 

Living without love for so long had made him capable of handling the world on his own, but now Eliott was here, and Eliott loved him, and he didn’t know what it meant if he craved that love he’d lacked for so long. 

Heartlessness was a curse only to those who didn’t know how to wield it the way he’d learned how to over many years. If he couldn’t find it in himself to be heartless anymore, did that make him weak? Did it make him weak to fall asleep with another body wrapped around his every night, finding comfort in the way it helped settle his thoughts and turn his mind off enough to breathe freely even if only for a night?

Granted, he wasn’t finding that comfort at the present moment, watching the clock tick minute by minute as if it were scolding him for being awake. Eliott shifted his body, placing a sleepy kiss on Lucas’ collarbone, one that Lucas was certain he wouldn’t remember in the morning, before settling back in, cocooning himself around Lucas like he was his lifeline. 

In that moment, Lucas didn’t care if it made him weak, he snuggled right back into Eliott, shutting his eyes and tuning his mind to the sounds of Eliott breathing. He could worry about the rest of his life tomorrow, right now he needed to allow himself to be weak, if being held in the arms of someone who loved you was what weakness was.

[lajulie24]

Hear me

Yes, the Bespin AU is still happening! This is part 5 of the story -- Han and Leia have escaped the Bespin trap without any awkward meals with Vader, had some tough talks about “what next?” on a moon in the Monsua Nebula, and taken a little jaunt to Kashyyk to let Chewie get in a visit with family and plan their next move. Luke avoided the Bespin trap by pulling himself out of hyperspace, but he just wants to check to make sure his friends are okay... (Read the earlier parts of this story here: Part 1: I know, Part 2: Jump, Part 3: Visions of the future, Part 4: Decisions)

Kashyyk was magical.

In a strange way, it reminded Leia of Alderaan, although the terrain in many respects was different. Instead of rolling hills and snow-capped mountains, huge open spaces, there were swamps and a tangle of ancient trees. It had more similarities to Yavin IV than to Alderaan, in the sense of biome. But something about it felt like Alderaan, something in its essence.

Maybe it was the trees, the canopy of green, ancient and timeless and at the same time alive and real, like an enchanted forest from one of the fairy stories Breha used to read her as a girl. Some kind of charmed foliage that cast a spell of protection over them all. Even the way they’d arrived had felt like magic; they’d barely exited hyperspace before diving into a sort of forest maze, winding through the trees and swamps until a landing platform appeared seemingly out of the air. Technically this planet was still occupied by the Empire—the fact of which Chewie had gently reminded her before they’d confirmed their trip—but Leia felt safer here than she ever had on the Rebel bases.

Perhaps it was the Wookiees. Leia had grown to not only respect but love her friend Chewbacca over the last few years, but she had not been prepared for the welcome—no, embrace—they’d received from his family and clan. Han was clearly already well established as part of the family, and Leia rejoiced to see the man who had claimed for so long to be a loner, to have no one, be so thoroughly and obviously beloved. Leia had been ready to hang back, rely on her diplomatic experience and let Chewie and Han take the lead while she built trust. But before the first day was out, Malla was ruffling her hair affectionately, exclaiming her joy at Leia’s grasp of Shryiiwook, and calling her by Chewie’s name for her, Little Princess, as well by as another, more tender growl that Leia didn’t yet recognize.

The air here was different, too. It smelled fresh, clean, full of life and nature and green, somehow. Was there more oxygen here? It was like she’d been wearing a band around her chest before, and finally could breathe. She felt free, yet connected, like there was an invisible thread joining her with the trees, the sunlight on her face, the birds whose song drifted through the morning air, the Wookiees who welcomed her into their home, the man on the sleeping mat beside her.

Her mate. Mate. That’s what the other growl means.

Han stirred, and Leia snuggled closer, burying her face in his chest, breathing deeply again. They should probably get up soon to help with breakfast, but it felt good to savor this time together, alone in the little hut where they’d been staying. Only three days, and they’d somehow gotten into a new routine, even more domestic than they’d been in the last weeks of their trip to Bespin. Of course, now they weren’t hurtling through space on their way to an uncertain future. They weren’t hurtling toward (or away from) anything at the moment, though the future was no less uncertain. They’d arrived, it seemed.

She felt Han kiss the top of her head and lifted up her chin to look at him. She saw his eyes, green-gold like the light through the trees, a sleepy grin parting the stubble on his face.

Home. That’s why it felt so familiar here.

Kriff, kriff, kriff. This had been a very bad idea.

R2’s cursing had basically become background noise at this point. All Luke’s senses were on high alert, adrenaline running through him. When he could spare a moment, he tried to access the Force, but as far as he could tell Han and Leia weren’t here, and mostly the Force just screamed DANGER at him at every turn.

He vaguely remembered Leia telling him about this place before, how the electrical storms made it all but impossible to navigate through here with any certainty, how even the Imperials had been loath to try to land on the moon, how the area above was rife with pirates looking to pick off ships stupid or unlucky enough to make their way to this sector.

Unlucky. Stupid. Check.

R2 called him a curse usually reserved for Threepio, Luke was reasonably sure, as Luke attempted to evade the pirate currently targeting his ship with a maneuver he and Wedge had come up with for the Rogues. It was a last-ditch scenario that involved going into a backwards spin and coming out of it at just the right moment, so if he could just concentrate—

A-ha! Lucky, for once. Luke pulled out of the spin and moved back into attack position, and the pirate disappeared into hyperspace, having given up, apparently.

In my experience, there’s no such thing as luck, Ben’s voice echoed in his head.

True, Luke agreed. He needed to go back to Dagobah, to finish his training. But he felt restless, not knowing what had happened to Han and Leia.

He was still considering what to do when the X-wing’s engine stalled out. He tried to restart it, to no avail. R2 cursed again.

Unlucky. Stupid. Check.

Luke tried to remember everything he could about the causes of X-wing engine failure. He remained calm, batting back and forth with R2 about potential solutions. Reroute power from the back thrusters. Try for a manual start of the main engines. All good ideas. All failures.

He looked at his comm. If Han and Leia were nearby, he could try to hail the Falcon. But the presence he had felt of them before was gone. And sending out a distress signal here would be like taking a stroll to Anchorhead in the dark with a jug of water under your arm. Just asking to be raided.

Could he use the Force to move the ship, somehow? Maybe Ben could tell him. Ben said he couldn’t get involved if Luke faced Vader, but Vader wasn’t anywhere nearby, at least, he didn’t think so. He hoped not.

Luke took a deep breath, reached out. Ben? he called out hopefully.

No answer. He tried again. He imagined Ben’s presence, his face, his words. Ben?

Again, nothing. He tried again, and again, and after several more attempts, he recalled Yoda’s admonition.

Luke cleared his mind. Yoda was right. Enough trying, he had to do, and to believe. Trust the Force, and he would know how to find help, whom to call.

On another world, Leia’s brown eyes snapped open, and she paused, like she wasn’t sure of what she’d just heard.

Of course. Of course.

Leia. Hear me, Luke called.

Their fourth day on-planet had been just as lovely as the ones preceding, but at some point, an uneasy feeling had begun to pick at the back of Leia’s mind. She found herself distracted.

She had expected to be thinking about the Alliance, about everything she’d already missed by this little post-Hoth detour they’d taken. And she did think about them, wonder how things had gone at the rendezvous, how much of the base they’d managed to evacuate. She knew from the Holonet news sites that the Imperials had claimed victory at Hoth, bragged about crushing their “terrorist cell,” but that was probably a flat-out lie. She hadn’t heard anything about Bespin, even anything about the occupation that was clearly imminent as they left, so she suspected any news was being suppressed for the time being.

And if anything, she’d expected to be distracted by discussions of their plans of what they might do after their stay here on Kashyyk. Would they return to the Alliance and take their chances with the bounty on Han’s head? Would they go to Tatooine to settle the debt? Because there was no way in the nine hells Leia was going to let Han go face Jabba alone. Not after all this.

But neither of these were the thing distracting her at the moment.

“Leia,” Han said, shaking her out of her thoughts. She’d been staring out into space again.

“Sorry, I—“ She smiled at Han, who was watching her with concern. “I was just wondering about Luke.”

Han’s eyes got a little wider, but he didn’t say anything.

“I just hope he made it to the fleet all right,” she continued, and as she said it she had a feeling that Luke hadn’t made it to the fleet at all.

Han smiled, though he still looked worried about her. Or maybe he was worried about Luke. Or worried about her worrying about Luke? Han wasn’t exactly the jealous type, though.

Leia suddenly recalled her actions in the medbay back on Hoth. She’d been counting on Han being the jealous type when she’d done that, hadn’t she? And she’d used her friend to do it. That was—not great, Organa.

Maybe she was feeling guilty about Luke, now that she’d made it to this new place with Han.

“I’m sure he’s fine,” Han reassured her. “Probably wondering what we’re doing right now.” He moved a little closer.

Han’s presence didn’t dispel the bad feeling entirely, but it helped. And his kiss helped, too.

She was able to put her distraction to rest through most of the rest of the day, but after dinner, the feeling struck her again, stronger this time.

She paused, wondering whether she’d just heard what she thought she had.

Leia. Hear me, the voice sounded inside her.

Luke, she answered back as Han came in.

“Hey, wondered where you wandered off to,” Han said, grinning as he entered the room. “You all right?”

She raised her eyes to his. She couldn’t explain how she knew, but her conviction here was even stronger than the feeling she’d had at Bespin.

“I know where Luke is,” she said. “We have to go back.”

[sleek-mendes]

Fratboy Luke! Pt 3

Warnings: Language, mention of alcohol

I don’t know how long I sat there. My mind was spinning and the alcohol swimming in my veins was not helping. A knock on the door snapped me out of my thoughts.

‘Katherine?’ Haley called softly, pushing the door open.

‘Hey.’ I whispered. Her eyes fell to my neck and she raised her eyebrow.

‘I saw him walk out, I figured you guys got into an argument but clearly you were up to something else.’ She laughed. I wasn’t in the mood to laugh. I wanted to cry, but it felt dramatic.

I knew what I was getting myself into. And my gut told me not to. But I did it anyways. It was my fault. I should’ve listened to my gut.

‘Okay you aren’t laughing or telling me to fuck off so what happened?’ Haley asks, stepping into the bathroom and closing the door behind her.

‘Things were fine but then he just stopped and told me he couldn’t do this. Whatever that means. And then he left.’ I explain and Haley’s face falls from confusion to anger.

‘That little shit im gonna-‘

‘No. Haley don’t do anything. I just want to go home.’ I sigh, zipping up my jeans and trying my best to cover the hickey with my hair.

‘Ive had too much to drink but, I’ll ask Calum. He hasn’t been drinking for the last hour.’ She explains and I nod. Haley takes my hand and leads us both out of the bathroom and down the long hallway back outside where Calum stands with Michael.

‘Hey, could you take us home? I’m really drunk. But i’ll come get my car in the morning.’ Haley asks and Calum nods, looking towards me.

‘You good?’ He asks.

‘I’m fine. Please just take me home.’

He opens his mouth to say something but Haley shakes her head and he quickly closes it.

‘Let’s go then.’ He purses his lips, eyeing me carefully before leading the way to his car.

‘Katherine, wait!’ I heard Lukes voice getting close but i shook my head and continued walking, Haley’s grip on my hand tightening.

Luke’s hand wrapped around my arm and my movements halted.

‘Don’t fucking touch me.’ I berated, ripping my arm from his grasp.

‘Please just let me talk to you!’ He begged.

‘No. Don’t ever fucking talk to me again.’ I yelled, a few heads turning in our direction but I couldn’t even care if I wanted to. All i could see was red.

‘You don’t get it! I-‘

I laugh sarcastically at his comment and turn to face him fully.

‘No I get it. You won. You wanted to fuck around to prove you could do it? You win. Fuck you for making me think I might’ve been wrong about you.’ I say it calmer than I thought I would and turn away, rushing to meet Haley in the car.

‘Are you okay?’ I’m surprised it’s Calums voice that asks the question.

‘I’m fine.’ I answer shortly.

‘He’s had a fucked up love life. That’s why he acts like that.’ Calum explains quietly.

‘And the rest of us haven’t?’ I ask, raising my voice slightly.

‘No but.. nevermind. It’s not my business to tell’

-

Calums words remained in my head for the entire week. It made me wonder just what Luke has been through that makes him act like such an asshole.

I hadn’t seen Luke around at all. He’d avoided me successfully and i’d done the same. I would be lying if I said that I wasn’t a little disappointed that he didn’t try at least one more time.

But that was also the problem wasn’t it?

I had turned him down, I made it hard to even be my friend, yet I STILL wanted him to run after me? I hadn’t been easy on him. Yet I excepted him to be easy on me.

It was getting harder and harder to convince myself that everything was working out the way it’s supposed to.

‘I’m leaving! Are you sure you don’t want to come?’ Haley announces as she walks into the living room, fixing her hoop earring.

‘I’m sure.’ I smile.

‘Alright well, i’ll miss you.’ She smiles waving goodbye before leaving to go to the small kickback Calum was having.

I knew enough to know that ‘small’ still meant Luke would be there. Plus partying on a Thursday night put a bitter taste in my mouth.

I would enjoy my Thursday night on the couch, take out and netflix on the tv.

Not even two hours later my phone lights up with Haley’s face, a sigh escaping my lips as I press the phone to my ear.

‘Haley i’m not coming!’

Haley giggles into the phone. ‘You’re so silly, I-I was actually calling to see if you could come get me?’ She’s clearly drunk as she stumbles her words.

‘Come get you? You’re not staying with Calum?’

‘No. Everybody’s still here and i’m really really... really tired. wanna come home yknow?’

I shake my head and laugh at her state.

‘Yeah Hal, i’m come get you. Be there in 15.’ I don’t let her answer as I hang up and stand from the couch, stretching out my limbs from the last two hours of being lazy.

I throw on a pair of leggings and some shoes before stepping in to the cool night air.

I knew I was gonna see Luke. There was no way Haley was gonna get all the way out to the car with ease and I had a feeling a drunk horny Calum wasn’t gonna be much help.

I pulled up to the frat house and let out a sigh before making my way to the door. I didn’t bother knocking because I knew they wouldn’t hear me. The music was blasting from Calums room so I made my way up the stairs, following the music.

I opened calums bedroom door and my eyes fell to the ground where Luke sat, a girl sitting on his lap, her lips attached to his neck.

His eyes met mine and a small smirk started to play on his lips as he saw my reaction.

‘Where’s Haley?’ I ask, looking around the room.

‘Bathroom. With Calum. Normally it’s curtesy to knock.’ He chuckled, the blonde girl pulling away from him to look at me.

‘Normally it’s curtesy to fuck in your own bedroom.’ I spit back, slamming the door as I stepped out of the bedroom, trying not to think about the image as I made my way to the bathroom which I could now hear Haley whining at Calum.

‘Katherine! I’m SO glad you’re here. Everybody’s getting horny and I feel like i’m part of an orgy.’ She giggles, leaning her head against the shower door.

‘She’s better now but I still think she’s gonna puke a couple more times.’ Calum explains and I nod softly and bend down to look at Haley.

‘Let’s go.’ I sigh holding out my hand for her to grab.

A pout falls on her lips as she puts her hand in mine.

‘Are you mad at me?’ She asks quietly.

‘Why would I be mad at you?’ I ask, helping her off the ground.

‘Because I knew Luke had a girl here and I still made you come get me.’ She hiccups.

Calum chuckles beside me and I send him a glare before focusing back on Haley.

‘No baby, i’m not mad at you. It’s not your fault he’s a tool.’ I smile as I pull her out of the bathroom only to be met with Luke’s cocky face.

‘So i’m a tool?’ He asks, crossing his arms across his chest as he smirks down at me.

‘Yes. Now if you’ll excuse me, i’m literally right in the middle of something.’

‘In the middle of me!’ Haley shouts loudly, putting her head on my shoulder. ‘Wait,’ she giggles. ‘Not like that. But fuck off Luke.’ I’m the one to chuckle this time as I step past him, pretty much carrying Haley down the stairs.

‘You couldn’t have avoided this forever!’ Luke shouts.

‘Avoided what? You? I could very easily never talk to you again. Don’t get it twisted , Hemmings.’ I scoff, Calum rushing down the stairs and lifts haley off of me, picking her up bridal style.

‘I’ll take her to your car.’ He says quietly, taking the keys out of my hand.

I nod and turn back to Luke who is now half way down the stairs.

‘Last time I checked, you were begging me to fuck you and I walked out. Don’t forget.’ He says lowly, stepping in my face.

‘Are you upset princess? That I let somebody else fuck me? Even after you wanted it so bad?’ He steps even closer, his hand falling on my hip as he pulled me against him.

‘Fuck you.’ I reply reaching my hands up to push him away from me but he grabs them before I can do so.

‘You already tried.’ He smirks.

‘You’re a piece of shit. Whatever the fuck- WHOEVER the fuck did what they did to you for you to be like this- you deserved every minute of it.’ I shout, pulling my hands from his and stepping backwards.

His eyes sadden at my words and I try to push away the guilt I feel for saying something I knew would hurt him.

‘Just... fuck you.’ I add before leaving the house.

‘Everything okay?’ Calum asks.

‘It’s fine. I’m fine. Thanks for your help. I have to go.’ I say quietly.

‘I’m sorry you had to see that.’ He sighs, clearly talking about the bedroom incident.

‘See what? Me and Luke were never a thing. We kissed one time. For a game.’ I lie, my voice getting louder than I intended.

‘Katherine... that fight last weekend had nothing to do with the game. I know what a face of Luke’s victims looks like.’

‘I’m NOT a victim. Don’t call me that. And it’s disgusting you all act okay with the way he treats people.’

‘Hey. He’s been through a lot. Like I said. I’ve seen him more broken than anybody. He has reasons. That’s not an excuse but... I know the real him.’. Calum explains, not letting me answer before he disappears up the driveway, leaving me confused & guilty once again.

-

I know it’s short i’m sorry :( if you want part 4 let me know! Thank you for all your feedback and patience with me. I love that people love it <3

[adityafulia]

Tale of SOCIOPATH

Chapter 2

She will make sure you feel guilty

She will take advantage of you

She will eat you alive

After i heard she was engaged, i remembered asking her this question “what are you looking for? LOVE or just the presence of whoever is close to you? It’s doesn’t make any sense if you say that you love me, then you can just accept this guy’s proposal and be with this guy. It’s like you said you are not hungry but in fact you finished all the food in front of you”

Back to the story of this sociopath, the end of jan, i’ve deciced to stop contacting her

But she still tried to contact me, we had a chat , healthy chat i supposed, as a friend, i felt proud at least i didnt become the monster who ruined people’s relationship, i’ve done that for a month, from dec 2019 till jan 2020 and i felt guilty

She constanly pushing for her lies, asking for affections from me, talking about our relationship , just to make sure that i would not out of her sight. I was quite strong everytime she played her tricks (or, i thought so)

I knew,this is one of the symptons, passive aggresive, she will try to push the fact that i was the bad guy, all the time

She did that on feb 2020, i was quite strong, to just stick to my principle, we were over, i will not try to ruin her relationship, she could carry on

On mid march 2020, she contacted me again, just to say hi, i was still rock solid, i was clear that she was just a friend for me,

My focus was my job, and my personal development, i will try not to ruin peoples relationship and be better person, i considered her as a friend, nothing more even though she still played the trick to lure me, told me about her breakup..she asked me, to let her know once i got back, so that i can meet her

.

The flaw that i saw, i started to softened a bit,i said “i’ll let you know”, maybe i said that because i thought that she already broke up, and that lift up my hopes up, maybe

Then this pandemic come, i had a conversation about pandemic, how we reminded each other about the safety

She shared about the plan of building her house

She played another trick, striking my weak point,asking about my family

My sisters business, my nephew, my niece, also sometimes she shared the video of her dog

I found out that one of her friend, also talked about me, to her, this friend was also bullcrap, sophisticated conman or congirl i would say

Then i was asking about insurance product, one of my protection plan

March was quite normal,

On april, i heard that one of my friend saw one photo which actually taken before i broke up on aug 2019, she was with other guys, i just checked with her, just to make sure, that she never cheated on me when we were in relationship, with me realizing, actually i still trust her, and just wanted to hear the things that i want to heard, from her.

As usual, she played the tricks, she pushed the fact that she wanted me so bad, i dodged as usual,

we didnt have much time to talk daily, which was good, it was a very casual conversation, about pandemic, about the victim, vaccine, and all those educational hot topics, which was my favourite things to discuss.

She still played her tricks on me, share her food, she constancky updating herself to me, food,aLso give me advice, to live healthier life, basically, to show that she still care, i replied casually, as good as i can, as friend, without intention to hurt her feeling

I still have that hopes

Hopes too see better version of her, she constantly pushing the fact that she is already broken up, push another lies,that his ex forced her to marry her asap. She said she was srill thinking of me.this is what she wanted

I laughed and still give my wisdom, i reveal myself once again, to explained why i went abroad

She pushed , she told that we could have a better relationship if i stayed, she made me feel guilty again, so too speak, then we discussed about another lies, the house

Then another fight after i talked about my ex, i have been fixing this tangled ties, she blewn up, went crazy then we stop talking each other again, that cycle again.. as usual, that was april mid, i was started to feel normal, this cycle, on off

Then 18 may, she contacted me again, asking how am doing, she said she still on break with her ex

She shared about her ex parents, controlling, and still trying to lure me also,to become closer with her

That was her trick to lure me, discuss about the things that i like, business on daily basis,

Withiot realizing, in one week, i was in, i was intensely talked with her, maybe i was stressed out, lonely, i need someone to tak to, seemed that time, she was the only one

She still pushed the fact that she was not in another relathionship eith other guys, she wanted to see my face without beard,

She cared about me, want to know about me, teasing me, praising me, i was lured into this traps , really, big time,then the diry talks started

She began to lure me,said she miss me, said how she wanted to meet me, i was broken because of the work, my mental health was not in a good shape, got beaten up daily , then i was lonely, then i confessed that i cant stop thinking about her, i said ive been there too a few times

She lured me deeper, said she wanted me, hearrt and souls and body, then i melted, at the end of may

I was too lonely, crushed, i was emoty , nobody did that , nobodys there to help me, hen i realized, everytime something important, she was the first to know, that was stupid me

Then without realizing, we started the call, started to said i miss you too each other

Then i was blinded, i was thinking she was on break, i could break in, i started to have vid call, then in goes intense, i spoke as if she was not sociopath, she talked and responded normally, she wanted me back, that the point that blinded me. Only need 2 weeks for me to actually fell into this sociopath trap

Then dirty talks started, vidcall,, she asked me to come to her house, so we can spent the night toghether, doing “things”

I was stupid enough, naive enouh, even though i knew she is still with his fisncee, but she use my family as weapon, she did something nice to my family gave them food, and also meet my mom, i dont know the motive, but for sure this is one of her tricks, to save her face in front of my family

She praised me , i was to weak, it was bad enough for me to be kured to another traps by this sociopath

June 2020

She asked about substance,, she asked whether i had substance before, another lies coming

This month, was the worsrt, i was completely lost, i was officially lured, and disguised, this sociopath had succeed

She was on another meeting with her friend whibh i had i recollect, that was not only with friend, but also with another guys, rich guys, i suppose, hahaha that was good one,, sociopath

With a very stupid naive, i didnt saw that coming, she still tried to make me guilty related to my parents, she knew that was my weak point, she knnew i liked it when she asked about my family,once again i got tricked

8 june, i desperaly chasing her, officially, got lured, again

She tricked me , told me about another guy, which already slept with her, she told me as if this is the first time she knew that the guy is interested on her and she didnot interested

Mid june, she gave another reason while sleeping with another guy, blamed me for not married her,

Cycle goes again, we fought, she disappeared, off, and on again, i was quite firm , this sociopath should take action , im not waiting, meanwhile , little did i know, on “off “ time,she was playing, i gave her time to play , she managed to escaped during that off time, playing her tricks again, with some other guy

Yet, this sociopath still managed to blamed me, avoid to answer my quesrions, blamed me again and again, passove aggresive, typical sociopath

She pushed the fact “why these guys really wanted me, and you were not”. I cired, like a stupid baby,, and i recorded my voice , crying voice, she won, she heard me, she even asked to why she couldnot heard the voice, i knew what was the plan, that voice will be used to trick me again, as weapon, she could record the voice and remember this as my defeat

That goes on, till 25 of june, she said finaly she broken up, she said she was stupid, act like she was broken, she didnt want to be with another guy

I gave her time of till 30june, i thought this was normal, she was broken, i need to give her time,and eventually, she contacted me again

July was weird, first week, whatsapp chat started to decreased. Daily, i guess this is because if the effect of her concentration for work, which was good and i understood fully

But you should know, that was not because of work, not at all. She still pushed the facts that she still wanted me, she still longed for me, searched for me, on the other side, I confused, i thought she already single

I was broken we lost contact till mid of july, i contacted her, just to let her know my moms birthday, as she told me too do it often. 11 july

Lost contact till 22nd,, during the off time, i was confused, mad, also broken inside, then i got the news of repatriation flight, planning to surpise her, i bought the ticket, and asked her one day before my flight, with hope that i can meet her, because as far as i know, she was single, couple of guys tried to connect eith euth her, but deep down i knew she love me, she still wanted me, hence i asked, i still got a fair chance. I though of that

The response was bad, this was the beginning of an end,,,low response, unclear answer, me, stupidly sad, i said i love her, i want her, i want to meet her so badly

Desperately, this was cumulative from may,, mixed with my anxiety and all

Friday i landed, she still contacted me even though i feel broken, no news from her, i know i will not met her at the sirport, no way it could happened, she sent me couple of lines, and as usual, she left without replies

Stupid me, saturday , i went to her house, with high hopes, to get some clarifications, yes or no,, because i didnt not know the truth, my version was, she single now, couple of guys tried to conncet with her, and i need clar because now im back

She replied , dont find me , she felt uncomfortable and i replied asking for information, confirmation, i was confused, what happened during the lost time, 11 july-22 july, she changed drasrically, he replies, dont bother me anymore, i had bf now, and im happy

I was thinking about giving up, i still think that if she didnot want to meet me, she could just told me that, its fair, i can leave once i heard that from her mouth,,,and after i saw this reply, i have given up, i thought that this is what she wanted, so yeah i gave up

Little did i know, this was the start of big disclosures, the end of this lunacy, the end of this sociopath story......

Things are pretty good from here

But you aint really good

I never learned when we were here before

Just stop your cry it is the sign of the times

[wildroseofarran]

The Accident, Part III || Self Para

Maybe it was because of everything that had happened to him recently, but Pete had expected to feel guilty. After all, if anything was going to inspire guilt, this would be it, right? Indulging a vague feeling that had been caused by an off-handed comment while his family dealt with a crisis. He should be ashamed, or at least a bit embarrassed, that something so small had made him do something so serious.

Anyone else would’ve brushed it off or let it go. Even if they hadn’t, they would’ve probably chosen to forget about it and focus on what was going on, on something that was actually important. Hell, at the very least they would’ve at least compartmentalized and taken the serious steps later.

But Pete and his overabundance of emotion weren’t good at those things. And oddly enough, today he didn’t feel guilty about that.

Why? God only knew.

Which wasn’t to say that waiting for the results of the DNA test while simultaneously waiting for his dad to wake up wasn’t pure fucking hell.

After he’d returned from the doctor’s office he’d resumed his seat by Pete, Sr.’s bed, only to get up two minutes later to pace. His mom had taken position on the opposite side and Luke was slumped forward on the couch with his head in his hands as if trying to will his father awake with the power of his mind.

No one spoke. Only the steady beep of the monitor and the sounds coming from outside the door broke the silence.

“Are you sure this is normal, doctor? Shouldn’t he have woken up by now?”

“I assure you it’s completely normal, Mrs. Graham.” After nearly three hours spent waiting and praying and hoping, Dr. Barnes and a nurse had come in to check on Pete, Sr. They checked his monitors and his IV, made notes on his chart, drew blood, ordered tests. And now Dr. Barnes was reassuring them that everything was fine despite the fact that Pete, Sr. still hadn’t woken up or even twitched.

Pete sure as hell was twitching though. He felt like he was going to jump out of his skin at any moment and at this point he wasn’t sure if it was anxiety over the test, his father’s condition, or the damn urge Guildias had injected into his head.

Lynnie cast a worried look at her husband before turning back to the doctor. “But it’s been so long since his surgery.”

“Your husband sustained considerable trauma, Mrs. Graham. Even though we repaired the damage, his body still has to work on healing itself and that happens through sleep. The longer he sleeps, the more time the medication has to do its job and the more he heals.”

When she still looked unconvinced, the doctor placed a hand on her shoulder. “There really is no reason to worry. We’re going to run these tests and keep checking on him to make sure he remains stable and that no other issues have presented. He’ll wake up when he’s ready.”

Lynnie nodded, giving the doctor a small but grateful smile. “All right. Thank you, doctor.”

“Absolutely.”

With that, Dr. Barnes and the nurse wheeled Pete, Sr. out of the room.

Not five minutes had passed before Luke was groaning and falling back on the couch. “God, this is so much worse than sitting here watching him. It’s too fucking quiet.”

Pete couldn’t agree more.

Lynnie took a seat beside her son and sighed. “I know, baby. But waiting’s all we can do.”

“I hate it. I want to do something. Anything. Sitting here doing nothing is fucking torture.” He turned to his mother. “You hungry? Thirsty?”

“Kinda, yeah. Haven’t eaten anything since dinner last night.”

“Good, excellent. I’m gonna run down to the diner and get you something. You wanna come?” he added to Pete as he stood.

“I don’t want to leave mom alone.”

“Don’t worry about me, honey, I’ll be fine.” Lynnie gave Pete a soft smile and squeezed his hand. “Go on with Luke.”

He gave her an uncertain look. “You sure, Ma?”

“I’m sure. Go with Luke.”

“All right. We won’t be long, promise.” Pete bent to kiss the top of her head and followed Luke out the door.

The relief at being away from the hospital was so great that despite their promise, Pete and Luke made little effort to get back as quickly as humanly possible. The concern over their father was still present, however, so they both made sure to check their phones often for updates from their mother.

While Luke went to the diner to order them lunch, Pete popped over to Callum’s shop. His best friend had already heard about the accident from June and wasted no time in offering his help, his healing, and a floral arrangement for his dad’s hospital room.

Tempted as he was to accept the magical healing, Pete settled for the flowers and support. Hiding his own injuries had been one thing, but there was no way in hell he’d be able to explain a miraculous supernatural recovery to his family, the cops, and the doctor. Better to just let his dad heal on his own.

About an hour later, he and Luke returned to the hospital laden with food, flowers, and a change of clothes for their mother. They were informed that their father was back in his room and that their sister had arrived.

“Did everything go okay?” Luke asked the nurse.

She nodded. “Yes, Mr. Graham. The swelling in his brain has gone down and there’s no sign of any more internal bleeding.”

“Thank god.”

The brothers hadn’t taken two steps when Pete was flagged down by Dr. Barnes. “Mr. Graham. I was just coming to look for you.”

Pete’s stomach immediately seized into knots. There was an envelope in the doctor’s hand. “You go on into dad’s room,” he said to his brother, handing him the flowers. “I’ll be there in a sec.”

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah, everything’s fine. Probably just wants to discuss dad’s tests.” He tried to give Luke a reassuring smile, falling far short of his mark. “Better get that food to mom before it gets cold.”

“Okay…” Luke said slowly, giving Pete a skeptical look before disappearing into their dad’s room.

Pete waited until the door had closed behind him before going over to where Dr. Barnes was waiting. He tried to read the doctor’s expression but it was perfectly neutral, giving him zero indication of what he was about to find out.

“Is that them?” he asked, gesturing toward the envelope.

Dr. Barnes nodded and offered it. “Your results are back.”

It was taken with shaking hands. “Have you seen them?”

Dr. Barnes nodded again, expression still neutral.

Pete took a deep breath. “Well, all right then.”

He opened the envelope.

“Where’s Pete?” Stella wondered as she set Callum’s flowers on the bedside table.

“Talking to the doctor about dad.”

Lynnie frowned around a bite of cheeseburger. “The nurse said the tests went fine.”

“She told us that, too. He probably just wanted to go into detail.”

Stella and Lynnie nodded.

“Is this….is it 100% certain?”

Dr. Barnes nodded. “Yes,” he said softly. He pointed at the paper in Pete’s hands. “That’s his profile and that’s hers.”

“And there’s no way that maybe….?”

“Does Brett Parker know what he was trying avoid hitting?”

“He thinks it might’ve been a hitchhiker,” said Stella.

“A hitchhiker?” Luke repeated. “That’s a weird place for one to be. Were there any animal tracks around?”

“No,” said Dr. Barnes. “It’s impossible.”

Pete closed his eyes. “And it’s all thirteen?”

“All thirteen.”

“Well did they find whoever it was?”

“Not so far. Brett’s hoping they stuck around though, just to make sure no one else was hurt.”

“Guy probably ducked into the woods to avoid the shitstorm he caused,” Luke muttered. “If Beatrice hadn’t slammed the brakes she would’ve ended up in the river just like dad. And if that had happened, God knows how long it would’ve taken someone to come along and call Brett.”

The thought of her husband stuck inside his sinking car for hours made Lynnie shudder. “Don’t even say it, Luke. Whether the person stuck around or not doesn’t matter. Beatrice called Brett and everything turned out as well as anyone could’ve hoped for. She’s okay and your dad’s okay. That’s what counts.”

Luke looked at his father. He was trying so hard not to think about how close he’d come to losing him. “Okay feels like an overstatement right now.”

Lynnie took her son’s hand, squeezing it. “He made it, Luke,” she said gently. “Even after everything that happened to him, he made it. I know it doesn’t seem like things could possibly be worse but they very easily could’ve been.” She kissed his cheek. “No matter how bad things look, this is the best-case scenario.”

“Other than no accident at all, you mean?”

A smile twitched at her lips. “Yeah, other than that.” Lynnie went to reach for her cup of sweet tea when she noticed Pete standing in the doorway. “Hey, sweetie. What’d the doctor say about…..sweetie?”

It suddenly hit her that something about her son’s face looked….off. It was his expression, it…had it ever looked that neutral? That blank? Pete was an emotional man; he could never hide what he was feeling, not even when he was a little boy.

Lynnie got to her feet, concern and fear coiling in the pit of her stomach as she approached him. “Pete? Is everything okay? Did they miss something in the test results?”

He stared at her—through her—for a few long, tense moments. Finally, “Did you know?”

His voice was so soft she almost hadn’t heard him. “Did I know what?” she asked, brow furrowing. “Is something wrong with your dad?”

A muscle in his jaw twitched. “Did. You. Know?”

“Pete, honey, I don’t know what you’re talking about. Help me out. Did I know what?” Lynnie noticed the paper he had clenched in his hand. “What’s that you’re holding?”

He held it out to her. “See for yourself.”

Lynnie carefully took the paper, searching his face. The way he was looking at her—so intensely and without a single shred of emotion—was putting her on edge. What was she about to read? Was it somehow worse than everything that had already happened?

She read.

Her face paled.

And that told Pete everything he needed to know.

“You knew,” he accused, anger creeping into his tone, his expression. “Didn’t you?”

Evelyn Graham was feeling panic she hadn’t felt for nearly thirty-three years. She couldn’t see through her tears, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t feel anything but those cold sharp claws scratching at her throat as everything she’d done and every choice she’d made came rushing back to torment her in the form of a single piece of paper. “…W-where…where d-did you….”

Luke and Stella were frozen in place, staring back and forth between their mother and brother with wide-eyes, almost afraid to ask what was doing on.

Pete ignored them. His only focus was his mother. “Dr. Barnes said something very curious yesterday. You see Stella wasn’t the only one that gave blood to dad. I did, too. Or at least I tried to. Turns out they only used her blood. I bet you can guess why.”

Lynnie lifted her head to look at her son. The neutrality had been replaced by anger and a dozen other emotions she couldn’t begin to name. “Pete…” she whispered.

“They couldn’t use my blood because it didn’t match dad’s. And that’s fine, it happens sometimes. Only my blood type is so rare that it prompted Dr. Barnes to say, and I quote, adoptive children rarely have the same blood type as their parents.” Lynnie paled even more. Pete got angrier. “Yeah, Luke didn’t mention that, did he?”

“Pete, please….”

She reached for him but Pete moved away. He didn’t want to be touched. He was feeling familiar panic as well but for him it was accompanied by betrayal and a grief so overwhelming it would’ve cut him down to his knees if fury wasn’t keeping him upright.

“And see that just wouldn’t leave me alone. I kept thinking about it and replaying it in my head over and over and over until I finally had to do something about it. So I went to talk to Dr. Barnes and that—” he pointed at the paper “—is what I found out. And I thought for a split second that maybe, MAYBE, you didn’t know but looking at your face right now…”

Pete shut his eyes and shook his head. “You knew, didn’t you? You’ve known this whole fucking time that I’m not dad’s son!”

The echo of his shout didn’t get a chance to fade when his mother fell into the nearest seat and burst into hysterical sobs. Luke and Stella’s mouths had fallen open and their looks of confusion turned into looks of shock and disbelief. They each seemed to be waging an internal battle between comforting their mother and staring at their brother.

As for Pete, no hint of his earlier neutrality remained. His face was set in mutinous lines and though his eyes were brimming with them, he refused to let the tears fall. He was clinging to his anger with all of his strength because if he gave into grief, he’d never get up again.

He made no move to comfort his mother. He could barely stand to look at her.

“You knew. You’ve known for thirty-two years that I’m not his son and you said nothing! You put his name on my birth certificate and didn’t give it a second fucking thought! You lied to him! You lied to me! And I’m looking at Luke and Stella’s faces and I’m guessing you lied to them too!”

“P-pete, please!” Lynnie cried. “Let me ex—”

“There’s nothing to explain! You lied! You let everyone think I was his! You let him name me after him! You let him give me his bar! God, you let me walk in there every fucking day thinking it really belonged to me!”

“It does! It’s yours!”

“No, Ma, it’s not! It’s not mine! None of it was never meant to be mine because I’m not his! You knew that and you let him give it to me anyway! Did you ever stop to think about how that would make me feel? How it would make him feel?”

He gave a sarcastic chuckle. “No, of course not. Because you never intended for me to find out, did you, Ma? You were gonna take this to your fucking grave and if he hadn’t swerved to avoid hitting that hitchhiker I never would’ve found out. Bet him almost dying really put a wrench in your fucking plans!”

“Peter, stop it!” Having finally found her voice, Lynnie got to her feet and faced her son. “Despite everything I have done I will not allow you stand there and insinuate that I’m anything other than devastated about what happened to your father! You have every right to be angry with me but I’m still your mother and you still owe me your respect!”

“You’re a goddamn liar and I owe you nothing!”

“Peter!”

“No! You don’t get to stand there and tell me to respect you after you lied to your entire family for three fucking decades! Where was your respect for your husband when you decided to sleep with another man? Where was it when the strip on the pregnancy test turned pink? Where was it the day I was born and you put me in his arms? You—”

It was Pete’s turn to pale as the irony and familiarity of this situation finally struck him. He’d been here before. It was a different stage and different players but…no. The players weren’t different. They were exactly the same.

“I did the same thing,” he whispered, eyes saddening and filling with that ever-present, vicious guilt. “I cheated. I cheated on MJ and I lied about it.”

The abrupt change had Lynnie almost flinching before the urge to comfort overtook her. “No, baby,” she said softly, shaking her head. “It’s not the same thing.”

A tear finally spilled, then another. “How is it not? I went behind his back and slept with someone else and didn’t tell him.”

“The circumstances were—”

He shook his head. “No, mom. Circumstances don’t matter. I made the exact same choice. The only difference is that Fletcher couldn’t get me pregnant.”

“Pete…” Lynnie reached out to her son again, only for him to shake his head and move away from her again.

“Don’t. Just don’t.”

“Baby, it’s okay.”

“None of this is okay. I made the same choice you did. All the same choices.” He moved further away, all but flattening against the door. “I’m just like you.”

There was something in the way Pete said those words that broke Evelyn’s heart more than him yelling at her or calling her a liar. He could’ve hit her and it still wouldn’t have killed her as much as hearing her eldest son, her beautiful baby boy for whom she’d prayed every day for nine months, say he was just like her with such self-loathing and pain and disgust in his voice.

“Honey, please. Let me just…” What? What could she possibly say to him now?

Nothing, apparently. “I have to go.” His voice sounded as broken as he looked. “I can’t…I can’t be here.”

“Pete, wait, you can’t—” It was too late. The door was already closing behind him.

She was just starting to go after him when a soft, raspy call from behind her made her stop dead in her tracks.

“Lynnie?”

She turned.

Her husband was awake.

It was a few days before Pete gathered the courage to return to the hospital. He knew his father was awake (Luke had told him) but he simply couldn’t bring himself to go see him. He wanted to, more than anything, but after everything….he just hadn’t been able to make himself go.

He hadn’t talked about what happened that day in his father’s room. Not to Luke, not to Stella, not to his mother. In fact, he hadn’t talked to her at all. There was nothing she could say that he wanted to hear. There was nothing any of them could say that would get rid of the ache in his chest and he knew that them trying would only make it worse.

Because no matter what they said, Luke and Stella would still only be his half-siblings, and Pete, Sr. would still only be the man who’d been duped into raising a child that wasn’t his. And that hurt more than Pete could possibly bear to think about.

So he stayed away until he couldn’t anymore.

At first, he didn’t even leave his bedroom. He simply burrowed under the covers with his cat, refusing to dress or speak to anyone or go to work and only emerging for food. He could’ve remained that way indefinitely if Luke hadn’t decided enough was enough and staged an intervention.

He went into Pete’s bedroom and told him in no uncertain terms that he didn’t give ‘one shake of a rat’s ass’ what the DNA test results said. They were still brothers and if Pete didn’t come out of his duvet nest, Luke was going to ‘drag him out by his leg hair’.

It wasn’t so much the threat as it was his brother’s reassurance that finally made him come out.

Still, Luke’s reassurance—and later, Stella’s—wasn’t enough to make Pete face his mother. He started getting dressed and going to work again, but her calls, texts, and visits continued to be ignored. He simply had no interest in her explanations.

Just like, he supposed, MJ hadn’t been interested in his.

It was the river that made him go back.

Other than his family it had remained the one constant in his life, all through childhood and adolescence and now adulthood.  Nothing had ever been able to taint it for him. It was his preferred place of contemplation and his favorite source of comfort, and it was where he retreated to soothe the ache he now carried.

He spent every moment he wasn’t at work or at home swimming in it. It didn’t matter that it was February and bitterly cold; Pete needed his solace. When he was beneath the water he could almost forget that his life was toppling like a house of cards, that he’d been the one to do it. For the most part anyway. Some of the blame rested on another’s shoulders.

But the lion’s share rested on his, and after so many weeks spent carrying it all around and having even more piled on at seemingly every turn, he felt completely and utterly lost.

He felt helpless, hopeless, directionless. He was going through the motions of his life without really living it. The only thing he looked forward to anymore was curling up with Midas. He didn’t even speak unless he absolutely had to.

Basically, Pete finally felt like the zombie Guildias thought he was.

Maybe Guildias was really the reason Pete walked back into the hospital that night. Or maybe it was a combination of him and all the time spent letting the river soothe him.

Yeah. That’s probably it, Pete thought as he walked past the nurses’ station. Guildias and the river.

Pete timed his visit so he and his mother wouldn’t run into each other. It was late, and by this time he knew Lynnie would’ve returned home after having spent all evening with her husband. Luke had tried to convince him not to avoid her, but in this instance his reasoning had fallen on deaf ears.

He opened the door quietly so as not to potentially awaken his father. Only half the lights were on, the blinds drawn shut. The TV was on but muted. He was beginning to think his dad really was asleep until he heard a murmured, “Petey? That you?”

Pete froze, clinging to the doorframe like his life depended on it. “….Yeah, Pop. It’s me. You okay?”

“I’m fine.” By now Pete, Sr.’s voice had lost some of its raspiness, but it still sounded weak and tired. “You gonna come in?”

Pete took a deep breath and took a few steps forward, stopping just short of his father’s bed. Even though his cuts and bruises still looked as nasty as ever, they appeared to be healing a bit. He appeared to have fewer heavy bandages too. “Hey,” he said softly.

The elder Pete smiled. “Hey right back, kiddo. You doin’ good?”

“Yeah, I uh…I’m okay.” He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry I haven’t been by, I…I just…”

The smile fell. “I know, sweetheart.”

Pete only managed a jerky nod before his breath hitched on a sob and he was rushing into his father’s embrace, burying his face against the undamaged part of his chest. When he felt Pete, Sr.’s arm wrap around his shoulders he cried harder.

Guildias had called forth a breakdown and after days of waiting, it had finally come.

Weeks of anger and sadness and guilt and grief came pouring out of him with all the force of a tidal wave, relentlessly wracking his shoulders and tearing at his chest. He couldn’t stop. And there was nothing his dad could do but hold him.

Pete, Sr. had pain of his own, physical and otherwise, but that was nothing compared to this. The last time he’d held his son, he’d been trying to soothe a broken heart. Now? Now he was sharing that pain. He was sharing the feeling of having his entire world fall apart and of being helpless to stop it.

Pete hadn’t just lost the man he thought was his father. Pete, Sr. had lost the man he thought was his son.

Pete had no idea how long his supernaturally strong breakdown had taken. Could’ve been twenty minutes or an hour. All he knew was that at some point it had stopped and that it had left him feeling not like an empty shell, but with a strange sense of purpose.

Still, he felt no desire to move. He was afraid that if he did his emotions would flare up again and pitch him into round two. His dad didn’t seem inclined to move either. He did, however, have something to say.

“Petey?”

Pete wiped his eyes with his sleeve. “Yeah?”

“I want you to listen to me. Can you do that?” At his son’s nod, he continued. “Good. I don’t care what that test says. I don’t care that there ain’t a single drop of my blood runnin’ through your veins. You’re still my kid.”

Pete blinked, slowly lifting his head to look at his father. “But…”

“No buts. I got up in the middle of the night to feed you. I heard your first word. I saw your first steps. I walked you to your first day of school. I raised you. That’s what makes me your dad, no matter if some fancy scientific crap on a piece of paper says somethin’ different. I’m your dad, Petey, and the only thing I regret is how you found out we ain’t blood. You understand what I’m sayin’? I’m your dad.”

Pete nodded. “You’re my dad.”

“Damn fuckin’ right.” Sounding satisfied that that had been taken care of, the elder Pete held out an arm. “C’mere.”

Pete managed a small laugh, hugging his father as tightly as he could without hurting him. The pressure that had built in his chest the moment Jeremy Peabody looked at him across the bar and told him his father had had an accident finally started to ease. His life might’ve been fucked six ways to Sunday, but at least he still had what mattered most. He had his dad.

“I love you, Pop.”

“I love you, too, kiddo.”

They stayed like that for a long time before that feeling in Pete’s gut prompted him to speak again. “Hey, Pop?” he began pulling back.

“Yeah?”

“There’s something I’ve got to tell you.” He took a deep breath. “I um…I’ve gotta go away for a little while.”

Pete, Sr. studied his son for a moment. “Where?”

Pete shrugged. “I don’t know. With everything that’s happened I just…I need to take some time. See other people, other things. I need to be somewhere where I’m not just going through the motions. Somewhere where people don’t know me and aren’t calling me Mary Magdalene. I need…I need to feel like I can breathe again and I just....”

“And you can’t do it here,” his father finished for him.

Pete nodded. “Yeah.”

Pete, Sr. reached for his son’s arm, squeezed it. “Then do it. You haven’t been out of this town in a long time. I know you’ve through a lot, even before I ended up in here. I know you’re hurtin’. So if you need to go, Petey, you go.”

“I don’t wanna just leave you. And I won’t, not until you’re better.”

“You do whatcha gotta do, sweetheart.” He gave Pete’s arm another squeeze. “Gonna take a hell of a lot more than a little accident to take me down.”

Pete smiled softly. “I will. When you’re better. And not a second before that. You hear me, Pop? Not one second before.”

Pete, Sr. chuckled. “Yeah, I hear you, kiddo.”

[claudioscloud]

The two poles of the magnet

Claudio’s cloud. Free thoughts, up in the sky. Part one: negative pole Chapter I I don't like going to the beach. When I was a little kid I hated sand, I remember crying and kicking the air because I didn't want to walk on it; it was mysterious, insubstantial and hot. Now I'm fifteen and I do not fear sand anymore of course, but still I don't understand why all those people decide to go to the beach, bathe, and do sunbathing, all together. It's madness, for an asocial boy like me, or better, asocial boy as my mother defines me. Last two years I managed to convince my parents to go to the mountains, but this year instead we went to Puglia, in a residence near the beach. The first few days I didn't want to bathe, and rather than staying under the umbrella, I preferred taking a walk in the village, remembering the good and long hikings I did when in the mountains. After three days, I went under the umbrella, because the walks were becoming pretty boring: only pines and cicadas and houses along an uphill road. There the landscape was better, the beach was located in a small bay and in the middle there was an islet with natural caves, and a lot of seagulls around. But contemplating that panorama didn't last long: among all those crazy people, there were so many cute girls in swimsuit to be enjoyed with my eyes, accurately shielded by sunglasses. Right next to my umbrella there was a girl laying on a chaise lounge with Ray-Ban and a swimsuit with little red hearts. She was reading a voluminous book, just started. She had blonde hair, almost orange, and she was tall. I thought she was a foreign girl, from Ireland, Netherlands, Finland, a northern country in short, countries where girls have long legs, blonde hair and blue eyes. But because of her Ray-Ban I could not see which color her eyes were. She was reading a book about Alexander the great and there was another book next to her from the same author, and that was the same book I brought from home, that I had to read as homework for the holidays. It could have been a good excuse to start getting to know her. I am shy and I never tried something with a girl. In secondary school I had a girlfriend, she was pretty but more shy than me and after two years spent only looking at each other, we "broke up". I was a little boy and I felt like relieved for leaving her. Since then I fell in love with my cousin, the only girl that kisses and hugs me. But I never told her my feelings, I fear she would overreact, that she would change her attitude and that I would lose what I still can get from her. Chapter II My dad too noticed the blondie. I told him not to bother me with that, showing once again my grumpy attitude when there's something wrong, with no apparent reason. The actual reason is inside me and I can't pull it out when there's my parents around. My heart is a cage that encloses all my feelings, making me look like a passive person and lacking of emotions towards the world. My world is inside me, there's this shell that absorbs from outside and it doesn't let anything pass from inside. That's why during conversations I listen a lot and I almost never comment. I seem like a person that observes the world, but doesn't live it; I don't want to be like that but there's always something that blocks me: it's my shell, but finally I've grown up and I decided it's time to come out of it. Chapter III Finally I take a bath, with my family obviously: I can't be independent in anything, at fifteen. While in water, I saw the blondie, together with her parents. She was playing with her dad. She had no sunglasses this time, her eyes were small, half closed because of the sunset. She was swimming with elegance I cannot describe. I was trying to act as if nothing was happening, and to don't let my parents understand I was enchanted by her. Meanwhile I was trying to get noticed by her. Listening to her, shouting to her father and begging him not to splash her, I understood she was Italian, maybe from Milan judging by her accent. I started thinking about us talking about the book we had in common and ending up with talking about our passions and activities. Exchanging phone numbers or Facebook contacts would have been a great achievement, I was hoping for something immediate too, a little gesture of affection. Have I already said I fantasize a lot? But another book I've just read said you should never imagine anything in the smallest details, because imagination would end up consuming all the ground on which something could happen. I tried to control myself and don't think about it anymore. I was worried above all of my parents' presence, that was blocking me doing anything in public. Chapter IV Next morning I went to the beach, with the idea of finally taking off the damn shell off me, but with a tremendous fear of not making it. Reached the umbrella, in the usual place where the blondie was laying, there was a skinny boy, brown hair, black and white shorts, with a magazine in his hands with the title “Sex, Money and Democratic Party”. I wanted to jump in the sea and get eaten by a mermaid, I wanted to disappear from that horrendous place which had become a blurry vision of pictures and sounds I wasn't perceiving anymore. It was Sunday, new arrivals, new departures. And she was gone, her book yet to be finished. I took a bath only because I was hoping she would have come, half fish and half girl, to take me away and bring me under the sea, forever. Chapter V I had become attached to a person whose name I didn't even know. An unknown figure, vanished without notice. Stupid me, that I followed her with no reason, sure I found the right person. In such a short time, I never managed to fall in love with a girl. Now I keep comforting myself behind my poor sunglasses with a girl a few years younger than me. She's an older sister but she doesn't attract me. The dark one is always there, wet hair and a magazine in his hands. Once again I lost the desire to take a bath and talk with my parents. They don't understand that young people have a lot of problems and they can't always go around with a smile on their face. I'm no longer a boy, live in suffering is a duty of the human being. We do what we can in our life, unique or not. --- Part two: positive pole Chapter I I like traveling. I love summer. I feel freer, free from school's schemes, even though I like going to school. I'm in a classical high school and I'm good at every subject. My favorite subject is history, because it's all about parla di events occurred in distant times but in the same place where we live now. This year we're going to Puglia, in a residence near the beach. It's a nice place, I like the sea with that small island in the middle and low, crystal clear water. Obviously when I'm not bathing I read the history books that the professor assigned to me for the holidays: I'm pretty sure I won't finish not even one of them before going home! Chapter II I'm an only child, I'm a bit bored being alone, I always liked the idea of having a little sister, but I guess it won't happen. This place is beautiful, yeah, but I miss my friends. Sometimes Stefania calls me from Milan to hear how I spend holidays down here. She stayed at the city because her parents don't have enough money to afford a vacation. I'm telling her that here everything is great, but I feel a little guilty with her. She contents herself with anything, even with poor grades at school. Poor Stefania! When I will be more independent I will leave with her one summer and I'll let her see all the beautiful places I've visited. Chapter III When under the beach umbrella I never stop reading the book about Alexander the great. I'm not able to be without doing anything, I get sad when I'm bored, because I know I can do something nicer but for some reason I can't in that moment. I can't sunbathe: I have a fair complexion and I cover myself with sunscreen to avoid burning. Meanwhile a week has already passed and I have not reached the middle of the book yet, so I won't finish it before going home, that is before another week. Meantime many faces have changed this Sunday, but I don't pay much attention to it, I am always immersed in reading. Chapter IV I'm getting distracted from my reading, it is unlikely that anything coming from outside bothers me. But this time I wasn't bothered I guess, I was curious. Sitting next to my umbrella there was a boy with small sunglasses and I guess he was looking at me. Yes, I was curious, but maybe even a bit annoyed, although even in Milan the neighborhood kids stare at me and I ignore them. I wanted to know what kind of look he had behind sunglasses, but he never took them off. He was a mysterious boy, maybe he was curious to see my eyes behind my Ray-Ban. I have blue eyes, sunlight really annoys me, I take them off only when in water. Instead, even when he was coming back from the sea I saw him with sunglasses on. Chapter V I was trying to do everything possible in order not to distract me from reading and not to look at him, and yet I was fascinated by him for some strange reason. I told Stefania what happened to me and I described this strange feeling I proved when looking at him. She laughed and shouted at me: "Sara, you fell in love, at last!". I couldn't believe it: I never fell in love with someone. I've always been happy like this, free from heavy thought, free from decision to be made. I didn't want to grow up, I wanted to stay forever as children, thoughtless. But now, after the first year of high school, I felt the need for something I never had before. Chapter VI He was on the roof terrace. He was waiting for someone. He was waiting for me. I run towards him, with open arms. He grabs me at my waist and he raises me. He looks me in the eyes. He kisses me. Then he vanishes, carried away by the wind. Here comes my dad loaded with suitcases and he grabs me by the hair. I try to stick my nails in the asphalt to stop it, I was crying in desperation. He manages to get me in the car, he fastens the belt and slams the car door. At that moment I wake up with a start. Chapter VII I was very upset about the dream I had made. At the beach, the book was only used to cover my face now, not to give too much attention. He was there. I went taking a bath, the last one at that beach. After a while I saw him in water too, probably satisfied because he finally saw my eyes. I could not take it anymore with no protections. I asked my dad to get out because water wasn't clear: it was only an excuse to get back to the book. Chapter VIII I didn't managed to finish the book. I'm sad. But probably not because of the book, but because of him. Traveling to Milan, my parents noticed my bad mood. I tried to hold back the tears. Something held me back, it didn't let me do what my spirit wanted at that moment. What happened? I can't believe it. Without him. And he was there, waiting for me... and maybe he's still waiting. As soon as I got back to Milan, I went to Stefania. There, I vented. And Stefania explained me: "You both waited for the other to take the first step but instead you stood still, like two magnets: if you put two magnets at some distance, they line up, but they can not attract each other because they are still too far away." The end.