#which.. i’ve seen that clip many times but i only now understood what he’s referencing

[gilmores-glorious-blog]

liam o’brien casually quoting hamlet is so specifically catered to me right now <3

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Vince and the Phone

A phone call between Vincent Shield and his girlfriend, Tara. Tara belongs to @fairybean101 and is used with permission! Thanks for letting me use your girl to talk some sense into my poor movie star.

This post references Who’s the Better Box Boy by @shameless-whumper heavily, so please read that if you haven’t yet to understand Vince’s reactions

CW: Referenced past violent assault, and referenced psat and current noncon

Tagging: @maybeawhumpblog, @pepperonyscience, @haro-whumps, @18-toe-beans, @burtlederp, @finder-of-rings, @giggly-evil-puppy, @lump-of-whump, @whimpers-and-whumpers​

He can’t stop fucking watching it.

Vince finally gives up and calls her - one benefit of their relationship for him has been Tara’s simple willingness to pick up the phone so he can ask her to yell at him any time, day or night. Tara never seems to sleep, she’s burning herself out rescuing all those poor Box Boys and Babes, and so she’s never more than a few moments of ringing away.

And she always picks up when Vince calls.

When Eli had initially asked him to consider acting as some kind of go-between for the pet lib people - he’d known Eli for a while, they ran in some of the same circles sometimes - he’d nearly said no.

But he wanted to help; even then, he’d understood something was really, really wrong with the whole human pet system. He hadn’t been able to put his finger on it, then, because why not let people sign their lives away? Vince did that every time he signed a contract for a new film and had to stop doing anything but working out and eating stupid plain chicken for months.

But Eli had known more than he let on, at first, and a couple of years later Vince was sitting up in the middle of the night, half-plastered, replaying a video of some poor son of a bitch with Vince’s face laying on his back, ankles flush to thighs, legs spread. 

The red in the poor thing’s face, embarrassed and ashamed of something that, according to Tara, he couldn’t have refused to do even if he’d wanted to. 

And to Vince, it looked like he wanted to refuse.

He caught the look the other one - the one that the Host kept - gave, presumably, Owen behind the camera. Flat and controlled, an attempt to stay expressionless, but Vince could read the helpless fury there.

“Yeah, you and me both, buddy,” Vince muttered, raking a hand back through his hair as he pulled up Tara’s number. “Both of us get pissed as hell and both of us do fucking nothing about it. At least you have an excuse, I guess. I’m just a goddamn coward.”

Tara’s number was next to an icon of her face, a serious scowl with her red hair a halo around her head. She hadn’t wanted Vince to take the photo, but she’d been the one to choose which of the seven he took got set as her icon on his phone.

It took four rings for Tara to pick up.

“What dumbass thing are you doing now?” Her voice is sharp as ever, but laced, he likes to think, with friendly affection. “It’s two in the morning, Vince.”

“Don’t yell at me for being up, I’m between projects and I always get all weird with my sleep schedule when I’m not working. What are you doing up?”

“Handling some new reports from another group,” Tara replies, and Vince can hear her shuffling papers in the background. “They got word on an upcoming raid, managed to split up their documents and records before the cops found them. We took in a few of their rescues, a couple of other groups took some. All the rescues are taken care of, which is what matters, but shit.”

“Shit…?”

“They’re hitting too many groups. I think someone is talking. But you don’t want to hear about my shit tonight… what’s up, Vince?” There’s a pause and before he can answer, Tara asks softly, “You’re still thinking about it, aren’t you?”

Vince glances down at his laptop, where the video is currently paused, right on the shot of the look of pure unadulterated trying-to-hide-it murder Colton - who is apparently Dustin Anderson, pet liberation activist, and oh shit what a fucking ominous soundtrack that knowledge starts up inside his head - is giving Owen Grant. He moves the timer back and sets it up to replay the look on the Kauri kid’s face the second he heard the Host say Position 34.

The red flush, humiliated and nervous, the subtle sidelong glance to the other pet only to see the confusion on his face and realize oh shit, I’m the only one of us who knows this.

Did pets judge each other? Did Kauri leave and the other one, the Dustin one, think oh, that one’s a whore when they left?

Probably not. 

No, the reaction shots gave too much away for Vince to even think unkind bullshit like that. No, the pets clearly cared, at least a little. The rescues they brought in mostly avoided each other at first, while all the conditioning was in place, but these two look like maybe they wouldn’t. Or at least not as much. 

He rewinds again right to the start, watching for the moment Owen Grant looks up, surprised, those green eyes on the camera so soft and friendly.

“He’s such a fucking liar, Tara,” Vince says, and his voice shakes.

“Yeah, okay, so you’re watching it.” Tara sighs, and he can picture it - rubbing the spot between her eyebrows with her index finger and thumb, taking a deep breath. “Vince, you shouldn’t. You shouldn’t punish yourself this way.”

“He’s a liar. He goes on camera - what fucking right does he have to do that, by the way - and he stands right fucking there and lies about what happened between us, lies about what I, what I did with him-”

“No.” Tara’s voice is sharp, and it cuts through Vince immediately. His mouth snaps shut. “What he did to you, Vince. We’ve talked about this. You didn’t do anything but go to see your friend one night when he seemed down. Everything after he put the drink in your hand is what he did to you.”

There’s a silence and Vince tries to tell himself she’s right. She’s always right.

Eventually, he gives up to the pull of just letting Tara run the show and smiles, wondering if she’ll hear the expression in his voice. “Yeah, okay. But still… you know he didn’t get someone like that Box Boy by accident. You know he lied about that, too.”

“Yeah, I know.” Tara’s voice is clipped, and goes slightly quieter. “We got a potential informant in the company, and I’ve just seen Grant’s custom order form.”

“What?” Vince’s feet thump to the ground and he sits up. Around him his home is perfectly silent, pure white, and kind of cold. He likes it better when Tara has to stay over, pretend she’s sleeping with him that night. Then this place feels like it has life in it. 

Mostly, even when he’s home, it just feels... empty.

“Yeah. We had someone come through and offer to get us some info, and Owen Grant’s order form was in the documents he gave us to show he was good for it. This is… this is the most detailed custom order form I’ve ever seen, Vince.”

“Did he-...” Vince tries to swallow back the question, but it tumbles out anyway. “Did he really just want him for-”

“No, it’s more fucked than that.” Tara’s quiet - Vince can hear his own blood, his heartbeat, his breathing. “Are you sure you want me to tell you?”

“Yes. No. I don’t, I don’t know… will it make me feel better or worse to hear it?”

On screen, Kauri is shocked and Vince watches his flinch, the tears standing in his eyes, still pleading and wide in some hope that Owen will rescue him. Vince grinds his teeth in anger at the way it looks to see his own face, so perfectly broken and needy, looking always to Owen to be saved.

Exactly how Owen had always wanted to see him.

“Probably worse,” Tara answers, and there’s a hint of gentleness there. Tara isn’t gentle with very many people - with him, with Eli, maybe a few others. Always with the rescues, the broken men and women hiding from the system under fake names and with forged documentation, pulled from homes and those two-bit emporiums selling bullshit knock-off Box Boys and Babes. She doesn’t have a lot of gentle left in her, after her own ordeal - but she always finds a little for Vince.

And he doesn’t even try to be ashamed of himself for needing it.

“Tell me anyway. That poor kid probably feels enough like shit, I might as well join him. I’m the only reason he’s even in this mess.”

“Well, okay, it might make you feel better to know he was already in the system. They called him 645898,” Tara reads the number out loud with real hatred edging her voice. “He was already in training before Grant put in his order, but I have a hunch they new Grant had been sniffing around the site and picked him up to have him ready for the order. And fuck, what an order. I don’t know what we’d even do with a rescue like this one, Vince.”

“What? Why? We’ve rescued others that are, that were, that… um…”

“Got their brains fucked out of them?” Tara asks with bitter near-humor.

“Yeah. That.”

“Yeah, he’s definitely seeing his share of that-” Vince winces, closing his eyes, trying not to remember Own’s hand pressed over his mouth, the look in his eyes as he’d whispered I’m so fucking tired of hearing you say no all the time, Vince, the way the ropes had dug into his wrists until they were rubbed raw and bloody. “-but it’s worse than that. He wouldn’t even go with us if we showed up at Grant’s front door.”

“Let me guess,” Vince says heavily. “He wanted the pet to love him.”

I just want you to fucking love me, you piece of shit! Is that so much to ask, Vince? Huh?! Is that so much to fucking ask?!

“Yep.” Tara doesn’t try to soothe him, to paper over old wounds with pretty words. That’s what he loves about her - Vince’s world is one of fake comfort and false friends, and Tara never gives comfort she doesn’t drag out of herself with real sincerity and she’s the truest friend he’s ever had. “If we tried to take him, he... he wouldn’t go. And that’s just the fucking tip of the fucking iceberg, too.”

“Perfect.” Vince sighs. “This kid had no idea what he was signing up for, huh?”

“Vince. You and I both know hardly any of them actually sign up for anything. You and I both know how they get the pets to sign our contracts.”

Vince licks his lips, hesitating, his blood running a little cold at the thought. “Yeah. Yeah, I know, I know how they do it. I know it.”

“Close your laptop, Vince. Go to sleep. This kid won’t be any less or more fucked over if you do. We’ll work on his case, I promise, he’s just… he’s going to be tough. He’s not in a house where we can walk up, he never leaves so we can’t catch him in a vulnerable, open place. And if we did… he wouldn’t go. The conditioning is thorough, Vince, and I’ve no doubt he loves Grant and is terrified of the idea of being taken away from him.” Tara sighs, again. She has a whole library of sighs, and Vince loves her for each and every one of them. “I have to talk to Eli about it, we need a better plan for dealing with this one, but trust me - I’m going to figure this shit out. Your clone and Dustin, we’re going to figure it out.”

“If you don’t, Tara? What if you can’t figure it out, for either of them?”

“Then…” Tara trails off. “Then it’s like I said. They’re no more or less fucked over than they were before I knew about them.”

It’s Vince’s turn to snort. “Tara. We both know that’s not how you operate. You never stop thinking about any of the ones you couldn’t rescue.”

“Hm. Maybe I’ll make it work this time if I try hard enough. Go to sleep, Vince. Eli’s on my other line. He took in a rescue and he’s been calling me for advice about her.”

“That’s funny. Me calling to ask you about this Kauri kid, and Eli’s right in his house, at the exact same moment, calling you for advice about, uh, whatever her name is.”

“Keira. She asked him to call her Keira.” Tara is quiet. “Kauri and Keira. Funny, the two names together like that. Eli even says her hair is dark and curly... Anyway, you need sleep and I need to keep moving.”

“Right, because you’re a sleep shark, if you sleep you’ll die,” Vince teases her. She laughs on the other line, and he relaxes all at once. 

Did the people who kept Tara, in the shadowy past she only rarely opened up about, ever make her laugh? Did they have any idea how wonderful it was to hear the sound? Did they know her laugh was nearly as gorgeous as the red of her hair? If Vince had ever been remotely into women, someone like Tara might have been just his type.

As it was, his fake girlfriend was probably his best friend. And the only person on Earth who knew what Owen Grant had done to him, when he was 20 years old and looked exactly like the Kauri kid that Vince was watching, once again, lay on his back on the screen.

Ankles against his thighs, legs spread apart, the flush of shame in his eyes and his skin and in the way he moved when Owen yanked him back to his feet moments later. 

“You have meetings tomorrow,” Tara says, softly. 

“So do you,” He counters. He scrolls down to look over the comments, staring at the array of usernames and inane babble. Mostly just people praising the Host’s cleverness, how funny they are, what a great idea to have two Box Boys face off like that.

Then one catches his eye.

@finder-of-rings: Kauri seems really sweet. God I hope owen isn’t hurting him. It’d be so, so easy to do just anything he wanted to him! They’re all alone and he can’t say no to anything, right??? God, that’s so scary… imagine being all alone with someone like Owen Grant and he can do literally anything to you and no one will stop him and no one will help you! Someone should do something!

There’s a slew of replies telling the commenter they’re making a mountain out of a molehill, that the Box Boys signed up for this, it’s all part of the system, whatever. 

Vincent just stares at the words as they go in and out of focus.

“Vince?” Tara’s voice seems a little fainter. “You listening?”

Imagine being all alone with someone like Owen Grant and he can do anything to you - and no one will stop him - and no one will help you.

“I don’t have to imagine it,” Vince whispers. “I’ve been there, Finder of Rings. I’ve fucking been there.”

“Hey, no, are you reading the comments, Vince?” Tara’s voice is sharp again, cuts through the fog and the way his throat has gone tight, his heart beating fast, a dizzy fear pounding in his mind all the way down to wrists that still remember how it felt to be tied down. 

A throbbing pulse of phantom pain in the rib Owen had broken, in the eye he’d punched. Some of Vince’s teeth are fake because of Owen Grant.

“Never, ever read the comments, Vince. Never. That’s… we have people who read the comments just to troll for info and even some of them get freaked out. Don’t do it. Or…” The softness is back in her voice, again. “At least let me be there with you when you do.”

“Yeah… yeah, no, you’re right.” Vince’s voice is shaking as he closes his laptop screen, shutting away the vision of Kauri and the Host’s boy carefully not looking at each other as the episode ended. I hope the other pets don’t judge the ones like you, little clone, he thinks. I hope, I hope, I hope.

“I’m going to bed, Tara. You’re right and I should take your advice and just… just fucking shut off for a while. Are you going to take my advice and do the same?”

“Fuck no. I’m calling Eli to see what help he needs with his rescue. She’s a sweetheart, she’s been really put through the worst the system does to people. I’ll sleep when I’m dead, Vince.”

“And you’ll die if you sleep,” Vince says, and both of them laugh this time. 

She hangs up and Vince sits in his quiet, empty house, thinking of the comment he’d read.

Someone should do something.

He thinks of Owen screaming in his face, holding him by the chin, the way he’d choked on his own blood and the tooth down his throat as he cried and begged Owen not to kill him. Thought of what it had been like when Owen’s mom had found out and Vincent had stumbled out of the old apartment where Owen used to live, beaten half to death and unable to tell a single living soul what really happened.

It’d hurt his career, if he did. He was just getting real acting jobs meant for adults, then - he’d signed Carlotta Grant’s legal shit and taken a year to recover and then come back and become a fucking superstar. It had felt like enough for a while.

He couldn’t have risked his career, then, when it was only getting started. And now...

It’d murder his career to step one foot out of line, now - and put the pet lib people he worked with at risk, if he publicly said a fucking thing about Owen Grant keeping what amounted to a blow up doll with a pulse that looked just like him.

He had to trust Tara, and the people like Tara - the people braver than him.

“Someone should save that poor kid,” Vince mutters, alone in the dark. “Someone should do something. But it’s not going to be me.”

[loyolahcmass]

Homily on Hunger by Florence + the Machine

Here is the preview of Fr. Rossi’s homily on the song Hunger by Florence + the Machine:

“Hunger” Florence + the Machine “May the Lord encourage your heart.”                                                  2 Thessalonians Florence Welch of Florence + the Machine is a force of nature. Welch is a fan of everything that grows and blooms into something beautiful in this life. It’s the mystery, the spiritual in our nature, that amazes her. __________ Her uncanny ability to find beauty and insight in suffering has enabled her to grasp hold of her larger than life emotions. In this way, she found a way to become so in touch with them that it elevates her music. The explosive song “Hunger” is proof of what we already knew. The queen of indie rock is deeply in touch with her feelings. __________ With the song, she reflects on those holes in our psyche that we fruitlessly try to fill with obsessions, distractions or addictions. "This song is about the ways we look for love in things that are perhaps not love, and how some attempts to feel less alone can only isolate us more." "I guess I made myself more vulnerable in this song to encourage connection, because a lot of us feel this way and we’re not able to admit it. “Sometimes when you can't say it, you can sing it." __________ Welch hadn't intended the "Hunger" lyrics to be set to music. "This song was never meant to be a song. “I was never thinking it would be a song, but maybe that’s the point. “And by singing it out loud, together we become a choir, higher than the hurt, louder than loneliness." __________ “Hunger” was released as the first official single from the album “High as Hope”. The album title takes its name from her view of the skyline of New York where Welch mixed the record. The striking sight was a stark contrast to the spiritual chaos of the world below. __________ The accompanying music video is unusual, to say the least. The clip finds Welch letting loose and break out into dance at an art museum. She’s inspired by the “sacred space,” the “holiness” of the museum, because this is where hallowed things are kept. __________ Her dancing is definitely like a religious rite. You can’t explain it rationally. It’s an emotional happening. She’s trying to demonstrate the mystical part of her life, which words can’t come close to. __________ “Hunger” starts with Welch referencing an eating disorder that she struggled with as a teenager. It begins with a line that packs a punch: “At seventeen, I started to starve myself I thought that love was a kind of emptiness And at least I understood then the hunger I felt And I didn't have to call it loneliness.” Welch peels back layers to reveal the hollowness that can come with loving too much or not enough. She focuses in on that feeling of emptiness that accompanies being  a celebrity on stage “loved” by many people but being incapable of reciprocation. “It can be consuming, stripping away feelings of calmness,” she says. “Don’t let it get you down, you’re the best thing I’ve seen We never found the answer but we knew one thing.” __________ Welch admits that she was tempted to change the lyrics. She feared people would be angry with her for discussing her condition. "I never thought I would talk about it," she says. "I didn't really talk about it with my mum until really recently. “So, to put it in a song – it's like, what am I doing?" __________ She explains that with "Hunger," she was trying to "Trojan-horse a really big, potentially unanswerable spiritual question into a pop song." "'Cause if you don't know what’s going on and you don't know what to do, you can always dance about it!" "To all jump into the ballroom of the mysterious together seemed like a fun thing to do." __________ “We find comfort in knowing we don’t go through hard times alone, and that we all become more resilient for it. “All our voices combine like a heavenly choir, ringing out to affirm we do indeed all have a spiritual hunger, a desire and need that is essential for our soul. __________ The psalmist recognizes this as well. And he isn’t afraid to ask God for help. Just listen to the lyrics of his song: “I call upon you, for you will answer me, O God; incline your ear to me; hear my word. Keep me as the apple of your eye, hide me in the shadow of your wings.” __________ Florence had a hunger for something that would help her live an authentic spiritual life. The drugs didn’t do it for her. Fame on a stage didn’t cut it either. __________ However, I believe she’s getting very close to God with the final hopeful words of “Hunger.” “You make a fool of death with your beauty, And for a moment I forget to worry.” Welch believes we all have a hunger for something special that fulfill our lives. But often we choose the wrong something. She certainly did. __________ Through the song “Hunger,” she’s telling us to choose carefully. She has herself, and now she’s getting very close to true freedom. The question is, are we? As Christians, we’re blessed. We have a special SOMEONE to help and guide us

[insert-geeky-things-here]

Here and Gone Again - Chapter 1: The Pizza Man

Chapter Summary: Amelia and her friends hang out during their final hour of school before they all head to Amelia’s house to celebrate her 18th birthday.

Warnings: Light swearing

Word Count: 3,107

Chapter 1/?

“Danger! Danger! This call is from your mother!” Blared the ringtone that I had set for none other than my mom. I looked to the teacher with the phone in my hand, brow raised, silently asking them if I could step outside and answer the call.

“Be quick,” Mr. Wilson, my American Government teacher, replied as he continued his rant on how inaccurate Disney’s version of Pocahontas was.

Nodding my head in thanks, I stood and headed towards the door, answering my phone as I did so. The hallway was silent besides the light chatter coming from the open doors and room-less classrooms around the school. When looking outside the many windows that faced the afternoon sun, one could still see that hints of summer still clung to the trees that had mostly turned various shades of red and orange. Hell, even the sky looked like it could have been a clear summer day. It was late September, so it was a nice sight to see.

“Hey, mom!” I smiled, a sense of reverence hinted in my voice since there were some classroom doors open.

“Hi, honey,” She said, her voice coming out a little garbled from the semi-shitty cell reception. “Are your friends still coming over for the party?”

I smiled widely, excitement bubbling up inside me, remembering that party that was going to take place at my house.

“Most of ‘em,” I said. “Brielynn has to study for college midterms.”

There was a pause for a short time, and during that time, I could hear the sound of my mom’s car running in the background along with the mumbled singing of my older sister Melissa who was sitting in the car with my mom, home from college for the weekend, lucky to get away from the stress of midterms. Assuming the rest would be able to come, she asked another question.

“Okay. Even though I won’t be home for a while, should I get pizza for the friends who don’t like sushi?”

“You don’t have to get the pizza, mom,” I replied. “I can order some when I’m in fourth period so then my friends and I have something to snack on. I’ll have some delivered to the house a little bit before dinner starts if I need to.

With a simple okay, we continued on with saying our goodbyes, for the time being, I hung up and walked back into the classroom, putting my phone away as I sat down. By then, Mr. Wilson was showing students a clip from Pocahontas and was pointing out all of the errors and telling them how the scenarios we witnessed most likely went down. Many students laughed or snorted at Wilson’s varying array of reactions. A few moments later, the clip was finished, which marked the end of his rant. Sighing, Mr. Wilson turned to me, an exasperated look upon his already weary face.

“How did your call go?” He asked, a hand on his hip, his other resting on his computer.

“It was okay,” I shrugged. “My mom is going to pick up some sushi for my 18th birthday party tonight.”

Mr. Wilson gasped and wore a face of feigned a hurt expression. His hand went to his chest as if I just told him that I was going to drop his class altogether. I chuckled and looked at my open computer momentarily, knowing full well that I needed the credit or else I wouldn’t graduate high school.

“Why would she not bring it here?” He cried.

At that, the class laughed. I laughed too, for a time, before I retorted a simple response.

“Well, to be fair, Mr. Wilson,” I sighed dramatically, “I did give you some donuts this morning in thanks for the Starbucks gift card you got me.”

“Touché,” He laughed before checking the time on his computer, seeing there was only one minute left of that class. “Alright, you guys can go. See you guys later.”

After that, the day flew by, each class seeming to be shorter and shorter with each one that passed. After some announcements given to the school by Paul, the music teacher, I was finally able to make it to the fourth and final period of the day. I sat down in my seat and looked around the sweeping room that everyone knows to be the Uncommons. From the three other classrooms and to the front and to the side of me, I could faintly hear different students from different rooms either talking about random things or doing their homework that was assigned that week. One by one, my friends trickled in each one sitting at the round table that we had claimed for ourselves at the beginning of the year. We were all in our most casual attire, seeing as the school lets us take a break from wearing our black, navy, or khaki pants and varying array of school approved shirts.

When we were all freshman, there were seven of us, and we called ourselves the Seven Deadly Sins for shits and giggles at one point, but within the first two years of high school, two had already left the group, either because they didn’t want to hang out with the group or everyone had so much disdain for them that they were, in ways, exiled from the group. Sure, either Tanya or I would talk to that one friend that was exiled at times, but Tanya was the only one who would ever talk to her; more often than not, I would ignore her entire existence, which can be seen as rude when one knows that I was friends with her since the sixth grade, but what’s the point in a friendship when one of them is so toxic one can hardly breathe. In the end, the friends around me were the ones I knew were going to last me a lifetime.

“So, what do you have planned for the party, Amelia?” Artemis queried, pulling me from my thoughts.

“Well, I was thinking we could go on a movie marathon, eat some sushi and pizza, and pull out my Ouija board that my sisters’ friend gave me today…?” I asked more than I said as I fiddled with the felt ears on my Spock socks that I had gotten a few years before. “I mean, we don’t have to do it in that exact order.”

“Now that’s what I call a party,” A voice came from behind me, the smell of pizza wafting into my nose.

I jolted upright and gasped, my foot falling to the cement flooring. In truth, I had forgotten that I had ordered pizza right before announcements. Pulling out my wallet my school bag, I grabbed 20 bucks and handed it to the pizza man, in turn, he handed me my pizza. As he was handing my pizza, the breadsticks sliding off of the top of the pizza boxes and with the shock of the sliding breadsticks, the pizza man almost dropped the pizza. Reflexes kicking, I grabbed the breadsticks, all the while steadying the hand of the pizza man. For a time, the world was at a standstill.

“Damn, Cas, where’d’ya learn that trick?” The man asked, clearly referencing Supernatural, a show that’s been running since 2005.

“I dunno,” I said aloud, almost incomprehensibly, before giggling lightly. “The pizza man?”

My friends snickered behind me, especially Artemis, who understood that reference more than any of my other friends did. I thanked the man for the pizza before I sat the pizza, soda, and breadsticks on the table.

“I just got the basic stuff with stuffed crust. Hope you guys don’t mind,” I said as I got a slice of both pepperoni and Hawaiian.

As soon as I said that, everyone started to grab some of their own food. Each person took a different amount of slices of their pizza and breadsticks that was provided. We were soon stuffing ourselves with pizza, disregarding the endless pile of essays and projects that we had to complete. Leaning to the center of the table, I grabbed the soda and upon opening, the soda bubbled and fizzed inside. Realizing neither I nor my friends didn’t have a cup to drink from, I stood.

“Do you guys want to get you some cups?” I asked, turning slightly towards the direction of the school kitchen.

Each one of them nodded in agreement as they took a bite of their pizza before I headed off to the kitchen for some cups, glad that the school provided clean cups for the students. The next hour and a half soon passed by like a blur, the pizza was mostly eaten, and the soda bottle had been finished off by then. The next thing we knew, it was 3:15 and students were being released by their Study Hall teacher, the halls becoming filled with a sea of freshmen, sophomores, juniors, and seniors. Some of the teachers and the principal saw the students, partially glad that they were now able to go home and relax and probably crack open a beer with a friend or a spouse. In all that chaos, I began to pack my stuff up along with my friends, letting my thoughts overwhelm my senses, drowning out those around me.

As I was packing up my stuff, I felt the sun hit my face, which had blinded me temporarily. I breathed in, thinking about all the years I had spent at this school that I had almost considered a second home. Hell, I’ve been going to the same school since my sixth year. Not to mention that I’ve even spent the night here for an annual event that most of the school population would go to, even if they needed an IV that consisted of the strongest coffee ever in their arm the next morning because of how tired they were. To think that I’ll be graduating in a few months…

“Kinslayer, you okay?” Layla asked, using the nickname I earned in freshman year.

“Hmm? Oh, yeah. Just thinking about graduation,” I sighed softly.

She nodded as she finished packing up the stuff that she brought with her that day. Most of the students had gone by then, either on the bus or in their cars, however, some students remained, due to the fact that their parents hadn’t come to pick them up yet. Teachers talked amongst themselves about the plans they had for the weekend or grumbled about the pile of papers they had to grade. Swinging my bag on my shoulders, I turned to look at the desk of my Literature teacher, Mr. Barnes. He sat there with his hand over his mouth, eyes scanning something before him. As if sensing I was looking, he looked towards me and smiled, beckoning me towards him. When I arrived within earshot that didn’t cause him to yell, he spoke.

“How does it feel to be 18?” He asked, his smile still on his face. I shrugged.

“I still feel the same as if I was still 17,” My reply came easy, seeing as I had always felt the same whenever my birthday came around, besides the fact that the burden of voting and actual adult things now rested upon my shoulders. “Nothing feels too different.”

As if on cue, I felt a familiar presence behind me. Turning, my thoughts had been confirmed. I saw Blakely, who is Mr. Barnes’ wife and my old eighth-grade science teacher, and smiled. I took a step back and turned, leaning in for a hug, a traditional greeting between Blakely and me. The hug was brief, seeing as Blakely pulled away, pulling something wrapped in wrapping from out of her bag. Grinning, I took the gift from her with a small smile that didn’t leave my face for a good while. I looked up from the gift, brushing my hair from off of my shoulder.

“Thank you, but you didn’t have to get me something,” I said. Blakely shrugged and smiled in response.

Taking it as a partial sign to open the present, I gently opened the wrapping. The package was oblong and about a foot and a half in length. When the wrapping was completely off, I saw an innately carved box made of oak with hinges on one side and an easy-to-open lock on the other. Upon opening the wooden box, I saw a wand made of polished wood. The design of didn’t look as if it belonged to any character from Harry Potter or Fantastic Beasts, having already memorized most of the wands that each character had in their possession. My jaw dropped, having realized that the wand before me looked exactly like the one I had on Pottermore. The wand was twelve, almost thirteen inches, aspen wood, and when I held it in my hand and bent it slightly, it was surprisingly flexible. The wand in my hand was amazingly balanced and easy to hold. I waved it around, mentally reciting Alohamora and Expelliarmus. It was perfect.

“If I’m going, to be honest,” I said as I held the wand closer to my face to get a closer look at the glittering woodwork, “I feel like I could kill a man with this thing.”

Both Mr. Barnes and Blakely laughed at my comment, knowing full well that I often used dark humor, or just humor in general, to express how I felt. By then, my friends had gathered around to examine the wand I had received moments earlier, each one of them amazed at the delicate work that was put into the wand itself. Smiling one more time, I turned to the two teachers before me and said goodbye, thanking them for the gift, and headed towards the door.

When leaving the building, the air felt crisp and smelled faintly of warm maple and smoky bonfires from late nights past, making it therapeutic in more ways than one. On top of that, the weatherman had forecasted that there would be a thunderstorm that would start around midnight. Looking into the mostly empty student parking lot, my car was nowhere to be found. Confused, I pulled the keys from my bag to press the unlock button to open my car, only to realize that the keys in my hand were drastically different compared to the keys that I had this morning. My brow furrowed, perplexity written all over my face. Practically hearing the grins on the faces of my friends, I turned to them for answers.

“Look to your left,” Tanya grinned. I was about to ask why, but she just shook her head. “Just do it; you won’t regret it.”

Slowly looking to my left, I saw the thing that had wanted ever since I was thirteen: a sleek, black 1967 Chevrolet Impala. In shock, I froze in my spot. I could hardly breathe as I let the tears fall from my eyes.

“Is this some sort of joke?” I asked as I turned to meet the eyes of my friends, tears still flowing freely from my eyes.

Each one of them shook their head, telling me that the car I was seeing was, in fact, something to I could call my own. My voice cracked with emotion as I struggled to emit a laugh that miserably failed, despite my attempt. I stepped towards the car, resting the tips of my fingers on the passenger side of the engine, slowly running them along the sleek paint, eyes closed. Slowly walking around to the front of the car, my palm making full contact with the hood of the engine, my eyes fluttered open, finally laying eyes on the sight that I had only dreamed of having. My eyes flickered over to my friends a couple of yards away, the biggest grin on my face.

“Get in losers,” I said through a laugh as I ran towards the driver’s door. “We’re going kinslaying!”

As if on cue, my friends climbed into the car, laughing as they did so and upon them entering the car, the keys were already in the ignition. My wrist flicked forward, making the engine roar to life. The next thing I knew, I was pulling out of the parking lot, heading onto I-95. During the car ride home, needless to say, was home to endless bouts of laughter, music, and future inside jokes that we would forever share and treasure in our hearts, no matter the circumstances.

~~~

The smiles on both my face and my friends’ faces grew instantaneously as I turned onto the dirt that lead to my house. I stepped on the gas pedal, making trails of dust into the air behind me. Over bumps, railroad tracks, branches, and small rocks and cracks in the road, I was finally able to pull into the gravel driveway of my house, the sight of my smiling Great Pyrenees Hope and ducks greeting me. Putting the car in park, I hopped out of the car and ran up to Hope, scratching her behind the ears.

“Hello, goofus, my floopy puppy!” The words came out muffled seeing as I had now buried my face in Hope’s snow white fur as I was now hugging my dog tightly, even though I had seen her that morning before I had headed off to school. “Hmm, I love you, goofball, even though you can be a dumbass.”

I could hear Layla snort with laughter behind me while the others chuckled their own response to my odd greeting to my dog. And with that, we headed inside and the partying began.

———————————————————————

Authors Note: Hey, beans! I hope you guys liked the first chapter, it took me quite a while to right. Sorry if it seemed like I was writing a Supernatural or a Harry Potter fanfiction at first (I promise that’ll change in about a chapter or two). I’m also sorry if it seemed weird at any point. This chapter was mainly for an introduction to the characters and plot I have in mind. Besides that, I just wanted to tell you guys that I was planning on writing the rest of the book in the third person, seeing as I would be able to write a bit more for you, not to mention that I’ll be able to get in more detail that should help the story flow more smoothly. I’ll also try and write more about what the other girls are thinking instead of it being all in Amelia’s head. Comment down below and tell me who you’d like the next chapter to be focused on.

Tag List:

@phantomxqueen3

@calicoskatts

@princessofthefandomrealm

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@pancakesause195

[guccisvt]

Leave It To Me

Genre: ? | Bodyguard AU Word Count:  6.1k Warnings: A teensy bit of profanity Summary: He was supposed to keep you safe and sound physically. No one said anything about emotions getting involved. A/N: Wow! I loved the process of writing this no matter how grueling. There will be a second part so don’t get angry! Photo Credits

Tall, dark, and handsome would’ve been how you interpreted “your type”. That was why you so interested in Seungcheol when he was first hired. As time progressed however, you couldn’t get rid of him. Bathroom? Right outside of the door. A little outing with friends? Right by your side. A small nap? He was probably standing right next to the bed. As a bodyguard, you understood that it was his duty but you began to wonder. Does the man even eat? You’ve never seen him do it. You offered to treat him once and he politely turned you down before returning to his silence. Now that it had been four months into this arrangement, you were tired of being followed around.

You stared back at Seungcheol as he walked behind you. When you stopped, he stopped. When you walked a bit faster, he wordlessly kept your stride. It was like he was a shadow. Your shadow to be specific.

“Hey Seungcheol?” You asked when the two of you got into the car.

He often told you to sit in the back but you preferred the passenger seat. And maybe you just wanted to annoy him sometimes.

“Yes.” He clipped.

You looked ahead as he pulled the car out of the mall parking lot and drove onto the road.

“Aren’t you tired of me yet?” You asked while fidgeting with the ring your boyfriend had gotten you just a month before. It was a stupid question to ask but you couldn’t help but ask.

“You don’t do much other than complain.” He answered while keeping his eyes on the road.

“Yeah. But are’t you tired of following me around?” you added before turning to look at him. Face calm, he had both hands on the steering wheel and both eyes were still facing forward.

“It’s my job.” he plainly said.

“Yes, but-”

“Look. You hired me and I’m here to keep you safe. I think you’re one of the most well behaved clients I’ve ever had. The only downside to having to protect you is having to be there everyday at almost every hour. That includes many of those late nights you think I’m gone and can’t hear you and your boyfriend.” He chuckled lightly as the traffic on the rode began to hasten.

Heat prickled your cheeks as you recalled the one night you thought you were free from Seungcheol’s watchful gaze. Or hearing, in this case.

“Didn’t even sound like you really enjoyed it.” He playfully laughed.

“And how do you know I didn’t enjoy it?” You huffed.

“Believe me. I know.” He said before turning from the road for the first time in the entire conversation to wink at you.

It was then that you noticed you were finally home. You wanted to exit the car but when you tried to push the door open, the locks clicked. Before you could register what was happening, your head was turned and Seungcheol’s lips were on yours, intently kissing you. You didn’t even resist. You melted into the kiss as his right hand gripped your jaw and the left began to run over your side before brushing over your breast.

“Doesn’t this seem better?” he smirked when he pulled away.

You nodded, admitting that just the kiss felt better than your boyfriend had managed to make you feel in the past five months. Seungcheol’s expression became satisfied with your zoned out expression.

“Won’t you let me make you feel good?” he asked while his lips brushed against yours and his eyes stared into yours.

You nodded intently again, anticipating his next move when you heard something alarming, fearful, terrible. Your alarm clock. With a frustrated sigh and eyes that were squeezed shut, you felt around for your phone to turn off the alarm. With a huff, you sat up in bed and opened your eyes so that you were squinting.

That was the fifth dream you had of Seungcheol this month. It was upsetting that he was constantly on your mind especially when you had a boyfriend. Having feelings for another man was not on the agenda especially when there was a schedule to maintain. Life had been going as planned with very few bumps in the road. You had a successful career, a loving boyfriend, and you did what you loved. You only had to get over the most recent complication. As a successful film critic, you made sure to give your utmost honest opinion. You had been invited to a premier showing and in all honesty, did not like the movie. It wasn’t like you completely put down the movie but when you spoke about the bad CGI which probably cost an arm and a leg, the production company began to lose more and more.

You knew your opinion was influential but you didn’t expect their value to go down so much. It may have began with you but other critics soon followed with similar opinions. Th production company had reached out to you to revise your opinion and offered you a settlement to do so but your word was final and no bribe was going to change it.

It was a while after that you began getting the threats. You couldn’t be sure who exactly it was coming from but it had to do with your recent review. The movie tanked and lost the millions that they had put into production. You thought that the threats were made to just scare so you ignored them. That was until you noticed that someone broke into your apartment. You told your boyfriend but he just played it off as your paranoia. Although he may have been right, you hired protection nonetheless.

Seungcheol was assigned to you by the company quickly and was already by your side in the span of three days. With him around, you really did feel safer. His calm demeanor kept you levelheaded in times where you feared the worst. It was good having him around. Although he didn’t talk much, he listened intently when you bitched about other topics and problems. Even though he was so quiet, you could just feel his presence and that in itself made you feel secure.

As you walked out of your bedroom, you saw Seungcheol standing by as usual.

“Good morning.” you told him as you walked by and down the stairs.

You walked around, picking up things that you would need and tidying little things. Seungcheol just stood at the entrance of your apartment, waiting on your departure. He held the door open for you and walked you down to the car that was waiting for you. As referenced in your dream, you liked sitting in the passenger seat but after your latest dream, you thought it was better to sit in the back.

You looked outside of the window while Seungcheol drove silently. You stared at him through the rearview mirror, analyzing his features for any change in his face. Nothing.

You were supposed to be heading to a company meeting but instead, asked Seungcheol to make a detour to your boyfriend’s house. You woke up early so that you could surprise him with breakfast before work. You hadn’t seen each other in two weeks and you wanted someone to take your mind off of your bodyguard’s constant presence.

Upon entry, everything was normal. A few clothes were thrown haphazardly and the place was a bit messy. The only strange thing you could find were the two shot glasses on the table and thr empty bottle of alcohol. Maybe he was drinking with a friend last night. It was strange that no one was sleeping on the couch but you weren’t fazed too much.

Proceeding into your boyfriend’s room, you pushed open the cracked door to find your him sleeping peacefully. His clothes were all over floor but he was sleeping peacefully in his bed. He looked almost heavenly with how the light of sheer curtains covered him. You chose to pick up some of his clothes before waking him up. His shirt and jeans were the first things you saw and next them... a dress. You walked closer to the bed and found a pair boxers that were next to a pair of red lace panties. Huh.

You stared long and hard at your boyfriend before trailing your eyes down to his chest. Whether they were bruises or hickies splotched about, you couldn’t care less. You punched him on his bare chest and watched as his eyes flew open and a dry cough fell from his mouth. You must have had devil horns coming out of your head because he looked truly fearful.

“Oh, hey babe.” he yawned. “What are you doing here so early?”

“Oh, I just wanted to drop by. I was going to make you a great breakfast and cuddle my man like I miss doing.” you said while leaning into him. Your mouth hovered over his for a second before you pushed the lace in your hand into his face. “Until I found that.”

He began sputtering before pulling the scarce fabric off of his face.

“Are these a gift for me? A long lost panty set?”

“I don’t think so. Good luck in your conquests because you,” you pointedly glared at him, “will never see me naked again. At the very least, I hope you got her off so she didn’t have to fake it like I always did.” you finished before walking out of his room.

As you stepped into the hallway, you heard the flush of a toilet and looked down the hall to find a black haired beauty walking out of the bathroom tiredly. She didn’t have anything on as she rubbed her eyes. She didn’t catch sight of you and Seungheol for a second but as soon as she did, she ran back into the bathroom. You only continued walking towards the front door. You heard your ex’s voice carrying through the apartment as Seungcheol wordlessly followed you.

“Come on, Y/N! Please hear me out!” he yelled as he ran into the living room and reached for your wrist. You pulled your arm away but he pulled you by your shoulders so that you couldn’t escape.

“Let me go!” you yelled.

Seungcheol pulled you away before stepping between the two of you and staring down your ex. With no words said, he managed to make him back off. He then turned to you and nodded towards the front door. You couldn’t have agreed more.

Seungcheol opened the door wide before letting you walk through. With a slam, the two of you left the dirty apartment and the guilty cheat behind.

On the car ride to the office, you kept your head down and tears at bay. Weakness wasn’t something you wanted to show anyone even if it was to your protector. You hadn’t noticed but Seungcheol took many glances at you. It was one of the few times that he had taken his eyes off of the road since he had been working for you. He saw your downtrodden face and couldn’t help but admire how you managed to keep your composure. He was half expecting you to break down in tears.

When you arrived at the company building, you went to the bathroom to touch up your makeup and make sure you were together. You exited the room with your head held high and a demeanor that showed nothing was wrong. Just another day.

After the meeting, you were able to go back home. Usually, you would go out to practice your writing or find something to do with friends but it just wasn’t one of those days. On the car ride back to your apartment, Seungcheol tried to check up on you. It was one of the few times you’d heard his voice, seeing as though he was literally always silently looming over you.

“Hey, are you alright?” He questioned.

“No.” You replied with a sniffle.

With the flurry of emotions you were feeling, you couldn’t help but let a sign of your mood out. The most you could do at the moment was to keep the tears away and your head down. At least until you were in your bedroom where Seungcheol would not venture into.

“I’m sorry that you had to deal with that .” He offered in a low voice.

“Yeah. Me too.” You replied.

For the rest of the drive, he stayed quiet and so did you, save for a couple of sniffles. You thought about the signs that had been apparent before but you had stashed them in the recesses of your mind, wanting to trust him. So much for trust. Suspicion was what you often seemed to lean to. The only difference with him was that you started to have fights. Not wanting these said fights, you tried to be more “considerate” of him and his feelings. After the fighting had stopped, all was well on his side. He got the play-along girlfriend and got to get away with whatever else he was doing. You understood now why you hadn’t been in a relationship again for so long. Men were scumbags and you were reminded of that every time you tried to be with one.

At home, there was nothing stopping you from taking a nice, long bath and immersing yourself into writing. Whether it was one of the movies you were requested to review or just extending your vocabulary, writing was always something that you enjoyed. And although there was another bump in your plan, it wasn’t going to hold you back for long.

You knew you had been relaxing for a while when your pruny body was feeling tired underneath the lavender scented bubbles. Drying off and dressing, you left the bathroom to reach the comfort of your bedroom. Seungcheol isn’t stupid. He doesn’t stand directly outside of your door when you’re getting ready but he’s usually somewhere around. When you called out his name, you heard no reply which was strange to you. It was once again, one of the few times he had left your side. You shrugged before walking into the kitchen to find a snack when sitting on your counter is a container of cookies and cream ice cream and a note.

Not much I can do but I hope it doesn’t melt before you get out -Seungcheol

Your eyebrows went high. He had been very observant. Your favorite ice cream right after a much-needed bath? It indeed felt like something you needed. A small smile made its way onto your face as you took a spoon and the entire container with you. You set them both down on your desk before finding a post-it note and replying with your own message.

You’ve done plenty. Thank you -Y/N

You were going to leave it on his bedroom door but as you were pressing it on, the door opened. Out came Seungcheol with a black t-shirt and basketball shorts. His messy hair fell into his eyes while also sticking out in multiple directions. His tired eyes found your quickly and looked down to find the note in your hand. He held his hand out in expectancy but for a second, you were stunned into place. Placing the note into his hand, you watched as he read it and a tiny small fell onto his face.

“sorry, I thought I’d have a bit more time to sleep.” He stretched to the point of his shirt rising a bit more.

“You sleep?” You asked with false surprise. You knew he slept, it was just that he slept after you and woke up before you. No wonder he was trying to get a nap in while you took an hour long bubble bath.

“I’m only human.” He yawned.

“Well then please resume. Thank you for the ice cream. It’s very appreciated.”

“Did I get the right one?” He asked with a tilt of his bedhead.

“Yes. You did.” 

He smiled a little wider before lowering his head a bit and going back into his room. Sometimes, you felt bad. Even if you were hiring the guy, maybe there was some way to treat him better. You often noticed late but he was always doing the smallest of deeds that made a difference in your life. Sometimes, that would be getting you coffee in morning or fixing the mess you made on a night where tiredness took over. He was meticulous in everything he did and it made you appreciate him more.

It had already been a month after your break-up and you honestly were feeling much better. Tonight, you had an event to appear at and of course, Seungcheol would be by your side. It wasn’t a red carpet event. It was your high school reunion. The news of you and your ex’s breakup had been announced to the public and of course, so close to a date that had some sort of meaning to you. Although you were on track now, you weren’t the most pleasant to be around in high school. Studying was major so parties were few. Sticking to a small group of friends got you through most of your teenage rebellion and breakdowns. 

Sometimes, it did feel like the cliche teen movie. Some of the social butterflies made fun of you while flaunting how they always had a boyfriend and how no one paid any mind to you.They poured a bottle of water on your head after you were speaking to a boyfriend of theirs and left you to walk around wet for the rest of day. Harsh words and stupid actions mean a lot to a kid with self-esteem that was already low. You were always putting on a confident facade. Even in adulthood, you had refused to believe the two boyfriends you had even wanted you in the first place. The first was a sweetheart but you guys just weren’t going last long. You broke up on mutual terms and were still friends. The second, well. That went downhill.

When you arrived at your old high school, you took a once over at yourself. Seungcheol had said that you looked fine but you were nervous nonetheless. You looked behind you to find Seungcheol still sitting in the car.

“Aren’t you coming?” You bent down in the passenger side window to ask.

“I’m not sure you want some scary man following behind you while you talk to your friends.” He chuckled.

“I’d prefer it, actually. You may be big and frightening but you make me feel safer.” You smiled. “So let’s go put you to good use, personal scarecrow.”

The two of you walked in side by side which was strange. He was always behind you but you welcomed the change. The party seemed to be in full swing as many people you recognized were dancing, drinking, and catching up. Everyone was still in their little cliques but often melded with other groups. It was refreshing to see that people who never would have seemed to hang out, were conversing and having fun now.

You found a spot at a folding table by the bleachers and sat down with Seungcheol next to you. You watched quietly as people laughed and conversed. You bobbed your head to the music playing although you weren’t really listening. You let out a sigh and lowered your head. What was the point of even coming? You would’ve looked even more like a recluse if not for Seungcheol’s presence. You were about ready to leave when you turned your attention to the makeshift bar off to the side. You looked frustratedly at Seungcheol before huffing out, “Do you want to get a drink?”

He shook his head before reminding you he was your designated driver.

“Do you mind if I get one before we leave? It’s been half an hour and I already regret coming.”

“Be my guest.”

He walked you to the bar and flagged down the hired bartender. You ordered your drink and threw it back as if you had no time to fully enjoy it. You ordered another two shots and did the same before getting a beer.

“Beer? Very ladylike.” Seungcheol commented.

You rolled your eyes before asking for a glass and pouring the remainder of your drink into it. He had been watching you deink in both curiosityans entertainment. The slight swaying that began and cruder language from you was hilarious to him. As you began to ramble, he listened and he although spoke very little, every word made you feel a little better about your location.

“See? I can be very ladylike.” You replied.

As you were gulping down some more of your alcohol, a cold hand touched your shoulder. You jumped a bit and almost choked on your drink. You heard a chuckle come from in front of you and glared up at Seungcheol who began to pat your back to help you recover.

“There are better ways to get someone’s attention.” You said when you turned to see who had taken a hold your shoulder.

“Oh, sorry. Didn’t mean to hurt you or anything.”

Her high voice was like nails on a chalkboard to you while her appearance made you want to throw up at how perfect she looked. Prim and proper nails, silver heels, and a black cocktail dress. Where was she going? A club.

“Great greeting, Samantha.” You said through clenched teeth.

Anyone with eyes and ears could how forced your response was. Samantha: a vindictive bitch in the past. It’d be a wonder if she’s changed much.

“Hey, Y/N. I’ve been hearing a lot about you. You and your boyfriend broke up?” She tilted her head with an evil glint in her eye.

“Straight to the point, huh?” You asked with an uninterested tone.

“You know me. I don’t like to beat around the bush.” She smiled. “Speaking of, who is this, you’ve brought with you?”

“My friend.” You plainly answered before taking another sip of your drink.

“Hi there. I’m Samantha.” She reached her hand out for him to grab. “And you are?”

“Do you really care?” He asked while shaking her hand.

“Of course I care!” She brought her hand to her chest in fake surprise. “I love getting to know new people.”

“Shouldn’t you be catching up with Y/N instead?” He raised an eyebrow at her.

“She’ll be fine. We talk enough anyway.” She brushed you off with one statement that you agreed with. You and her talked enough. In realistic terms: never.

“Y/N’s told me a lot about you.” He responded.

“Oh really? Is there anything else you’d like to know that she hasn’t told you?” She asked with a small smirk.

You glanced at Seungcheol who was looking past Samantha and back at you. You tried to make a sign to him to say nothing about any insults you had been spewing.

“She’s said enough to me about you to make me think it’s time to leave.” He told her with a polite smile before getting up and walking next to your stool. You chugged the rest of your beverage before looking at him with what a person could only describe as drunk eyes.

“You’re leaving already? The party’s just getting started!” Samantha tried to reason. You just looked at her with a sloppy smirk and took Seungcheol’s face between your hands. His wide eyes made you giggle before pulling his lips to yours. Even as a drunkard, you knew what a good kiss was and boy, did it hit the spot. Although he was stiff at first, his lips soon melded with yours in a fast-paced, sloppy kiss full of tongue. His arms gripped your waist as you harshly cupped his cheeks, trying to pull his face as close as possible.

You pulled away first, wanting to breathe a bit. To your surprise, you managed to turn just in time to see Samantha walking away in a huff. Your mood had been made, making you turn into a giggling mess again. Glancing up at Seungcheol again, you caught the way his tongue swiped his bottom lip.

“Are you ready to go?” He asked once he noticed your bubbly behavior was back.

“Why don’t you dance with me?” You whined in a high-pitched voice you would’v been embarrassed of if you were sober. 

“I think we need to get you to bed.” He replied with a laugh.

You grumbled but went along with him as he led you back to the car with a warm hand on the small of your back. You scooted into the passenger side seat  and let Seungcheol put on your seat belt before beginning to nod off.

“Thank you, Seungcheol...” You slurred before falling asleep.

With a pounding head, you walked into the kitchen at ten pm and found a bowl of canned soup on your counter. With it, came a note which made you wonder what happened the night before.

Warm this up and it should help with however you’re feeling -Seungcheol

You grabbed the soup and warmed it up on your stove before sitting down and enjoying it. It honestly wasn’t bad. You were half-expecting Seungcheol to be awake at that time but remembered that you had a free day for once and told him a few days prior that he could sleep in. He probably needed it with whatever he dealt with last night. You wanted to show your appreciation for his kind services by finding something that he would like. You didn’t know the most about his likes and dislikes but had learned enough to know that he enjoyed black coffee and cinnamon rolls.

With that in mind, you took a shower, and changed into a t-shirt and jeans to go out. You had been out more than once without Seungcheol shadowing you. At this point, you didn’t even feel scared, if anything you wanted to and could afford to have Seungcheol around everyday. You hadn’t noticed anything wrong in the few months Seungcheol had been protecting you. He had brought up leaving to you at some point but you quickly shot it down, telling him that you still felt that something was aloof. He took your “intuition” without a doubt and remained by your side. Now, it was time to to surprise him. 

You scribbled down a note to inform Seungcheol of where you were going. You walked to the grocery store in record time by using a shortcut and grabbing all that you would need for cinnamon buns. You also grabbed a proper card to give him when he woke up. Ringing up your items, you began to feel uncomfortable. It was as if someone was watching you. You thanked the cashier and walked out with your groceries.

With your hands full, you tried to walk as fast as possible. Every step you took, you heard another behind you. It was obvious that you were being followed at this point so you broke out into a full sprint. Your shortcut had been an alley that was a quick path between your apartment and the grocery store so you ran for it. The person behind you persisted and although you were fast, you had less stamina.

Your attacker caught onto your shirt from behind and yanked you backwards, making you fall onto the hard ground under you. Your head was still throbbing from earlier so the unwanted trauma only worsened your state. You groaned as the face of your attacker leaned over you.

“Hey, Y/N. Been a while, hasn’t it?” Your ex asked with a sadistic grin.

You gasped before letting out, “Please don’t.”

“Strange how you’re the one begging now, huh? You should’ve just forgiven me so that we could move on but you had to be stuck up bitch.” He ground out from behind his teeth. His hand came to pull your hair to bring your head closer to his crouched figure. You raised your hands to your scalp and made a pained face.

“I need some relief from actually pretty girls now and then, you know? Can’t be held down by the mediocre but rich.” He cruelly laughed. “You wouldn’t believe how long it took to get you alone with that loyal dog always following you but hey, I’ve got you now, don’t I?”

You wanted to scream but there was something lodged in your throat that prevented you from doing so. Your head was fuzzy and you couldn’t make out your ex’s face as you would’ve been usually able to.

“You were one of my main sources of income, you know. Games, food, the good things in life. It doesn’t feel good to be suddenly cut off.” He clicked his tongue as he revealed a knife from his pocket. “I just want to let you know how I felt.”

Hot tears were flowing now and your head was starting to hurt even worse as the knife got closer to your face. Your hands fell limp as you felt the edge of  the blade touch your cheek. The blade cut through the surface of your skin, letting blood cascade. You just shut your eyes and hoped everything would be over.

The blade had been pulled away from your face when your head fell to the ground again. You heard a deep groan off to the side before bringing your hands back to your head. You looked off to the side where you saw a man in all black beating your ex to a pulp. You reached out with a weak hand and told him to stop.

You found Seungcheol’s face glancing at you before running to your side.

“You shouldn’t have gone out. I told you not to go out without me.” He whispered as he elevated your head and found blood. He took off his hoodie and pressed it to the wound.

You apologized before reassuring him that it was a slight wound and that you’d be fine.

“We’ll get you to a hospital and everything will be fine.” He reassured with a shaky voice. 

Your hand latched onto his wrist before you passed out. He called the cops and an ambulance. At the hospital, you only needed a bandage for your cheek and a few stitches for your head. Your head was still pounding but you thought a few pain killers from would fix it. You were able to file a police report in the same night. Your ex had both scarred you and confirmed your past insecurities in your relationship. With no regret, you were going to file a restraining order and a lawsuit.

You didn’t get home until three in the morning. You were so very tired but had two meetings to attend at seven and nine about advertising for a movie you had been anticipating. You decided to stay up and finish a bit more work. You walked into your bedroom and sat at your desk before hearing the door open again and slam with great force. Seungcheol stood in front of your door with wide, angry eyes and flared nostrils. No matter where Seungcheol followed you to, he had never been inside of your bedroom. It felt like an unspoken rule. Now that he stood in your bedroom, you felt that a line had been crossed. Not being sure if you liked this change or not, you just continued to sit and stare back at him. After minutes of tense silence, Seungcheol opened his mouth.

“Are you feeling any better?” He asked from his stop.

“Pretty much the same but I have important things on the schedule for today.” You replied, eyes looking at him but not his face.

“You should be resting. I can reschedule your meetings.” He said, stepping closer to you.

You let out a snort, not intentionally but more at the thought of Seungcheol taking the role of a secretary. “It’s fine, dear assistant. I’d rather get them out of the way.” You smiled before taking out your laptop.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Seungcheol said in a deep, threatening voice. He hadn’t even raised his voice but you could hear all of the anger and power coming from his voice.

“Excuse me?” You turned from your screen, looking at him dead in the eye.

“You hire a bodyguard and then walk around like you don’t need protection?” He spat.

“I- I just needed to get something and didn’t want to wake you up.” You stuttered back as he let out a sarcastic laugh and ran a hand down his face. He stared at the carpeted floor for a second before staring at you. He approached your seated figure slowly, making you feel smaller with every step.

“What. In the fuck. Could have been so important that you went out without me?” He enunciated slowly.

You stared at him and realized how close he was. His arms trapped you in your chair with one positioned on your desk and the other on the back of your chair. You heard fast-paced breathing and thought it was Seungcheol until you realized you felt his calm breath fan your face. It was you with the increasing heartbeat, heavy breathing, and scared eyes.

“I was going to make you something in gratitude for dealing with my drunk side. I remember you saying liked cinnamon buns.” You answered before biting your lips in nervousness. You studied Seungcheol’s face for satisfaction with your answer. He soon broke out into the small smile and began to laugh. Throwing his head back.

“You’re telling me,” He began through his laugh that stopped very suddenly. “that you almost got yourself killed to bake for me?”

“Haha?” You responded in hopes that the laughing fit would be back.

“Well. I’m honored you thought of me Ms. Y/N. The thing that stands though, is that you didn’t let me do my job. I’m lucky that I found your note and ran as fast possible to meet you there.” You nodded, both grateful and understanding to the subject.

“My advice to you is one: not date psychotic assholes and two: use what you have. You have me and yet you still chose to go out by yourself.” He sighed while taking your hand into his.

“I’m sorry. I won’t do anything like that again.” You quickly responded.

“I hope not. I’ve grown to like you too, you know. Can’t have you dying on me.”

You nodded your head quickly before fully processing his sentence. “Too?”

His deep chuckle echoed in your ears. “I think you were too drunk to remember.”

“Remember what?”

You lied down in the back seat of the car, moaning about how you felt unwell. Seungcheol only continued to drive, amused with your behavior when you were in a drunk stupor.

“You.” You whined.

“Yes?”

“Do you like me?” You asked while sitting up and taking your shoes off just to lie down again.

“Yes, I do.” He replied with a small smile on his face.

“Great then, I don’t have to tell you first.” You mumbled.

“Tell me what?” He asked.

You giggled stupidly before curling up into a ball. “Don’t tell but I’ve got a teensy crush on Seungcheol. I don’t think he’s the same though.” You frowned.

“Why not?”

“I got cheated on. That says a lot about what my second boyfriend thought about me. Other guys probably see the same.” You slurred before sobbing.

“I think that says something about how bad your boyfriend was.” He tsked. “And second boyfriend?! I thought that you’d have boys lining up to have a shot with you!” He exaggeratedly added. Half the reason was to get you to stop crying while the other half honestly thought so.

“Well, I don’t so that means I don’t have him either.” You sniffled before snuggling deeper into your ball. You were only able to get more heat from your legs.

“You shouldn’t think that way.” He told you before hearing you mutter ‘whatever’. You fell asleep soon after, letting Seungcheol think in peace.

“She’s like a kid.” He muttered to himself as he picked you up from the back seat to take you up to your apartment.

“Sorry for whatever stupid things I said.” You apologized immediately.

“I didn’t think they were stupid.” He smiled back. “Drunk words are equal to sober thoughts. I was glad to hear what you had to say.”

An awkward grin soon made its way onto your face as he looked  at you so fondly.

“I like you so much. So much, in fact, that I have to quit.” His smile faded. Alongside it, so did yours.

“What?”