#will also mention how it went on hiatus i few months before i read it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

narsicen · 2 years

Text

Part: 1/2

Word Count: 18,101 (for both parts)

Pairing: Bang Chan (Skz) x GN! Reader

Genre: slice of life, college!au, lab partners!au, loving from afar, angst, fluff, bittersweet, Popular!Y/n, Quiet kid!Chan, first loves, meet cute,

Warnings: mentions of coffee, if there is anything triggering I missed, please tell me!

A/N: omg???? Me????? Posting?????? And writing????? Lol uhm I’m currently still in hiatus, just barely LMAOAOOA so I haven’t been able to do anything for the past months because well, I’m so burnt out with writing but i haven’t lost passion for it so dw, next I actually have some stories piled up for posting but I want to keep it that way to even out my content and because I take hELLA LONG?? To WRITE???? So kdhvkshghsdg so sorry everyone. but luckily, I already have the next few fics planned so hopefully if i can jusst follow my plan, then i should get them down with soon, btw I’m thinking of focusing on this series first before requests, becauSEEE, I’m passionate abt this LAIKAJSISO but i also rlly wanna explore how I’ll write these and I’ve planned like 3 of the other stories already so HSDLJHSdh

Part 2

Story under the cut!

A particular “ping” made Chan perk up from the pile of open books that lay on top of each other. He scrambled through the various papers of printed essays and research papers, throwing some discarded, crumpled, paper planes off the table.

“Hi, Chris! (Please tell me I got the right person) This is Y/N, your new science lab partner. I hope we can work together and cooperate :) P.S if you aren’t Chris from class - AB 3 please text me back as soon as possible thank you!”

Chan’s eyes grew with awe and he wore his signature grin as he read your text message. This must be the first- no probably the second time he’s ever been so excited to meet his new lab partner. (he hates science and he hates most of his lab partners)

“Hellooo Y/N, this is Chris, I can’t wait to work with you as well. To be honest, I was starting to get a little worried that I gave you the wrong number.”

Chan went through with his message for the third time, hoping it didn’t sound off or rude. The last thing he ever wanted to do was to give you a bad first impression on the lab partner you’d be stuck with for the next few months.

Through the countless times he’s tried to alter his words and maybe add a few emoticons and emojis to the message, he just either came off as a try-hard or some cringe dad.

He fiddled with his fingers behind his phone, thinking of some way to make up for how stiff his message came off. In the end, he settled for the “grinning face with sweat” emoji (according to Google, he had to make sure it didn’t come off weird) (he’s not weird I promise)

Pressing the little green “send’ button after a while of waiting. A hand flew to his eyes just as the messaging app made a small “whoosh” sound effect, indicating the message was successfully sent.

Ever since he set foot onto the new campus grounds of his university, ever since he caught a glimpse of the first few students that huddled at a table or two near the front gate. He’s heard your name from students left, right, behind, and above.

He’s heard all about you, not in a creepy way, of course, people just couldn’t keep their noses out of other people’s lives. Chan thought it must be hard to get so much constant attention from everyone around you, that sometimes it made him thank the heavens above for his lack of social interaction.

But even with this pet peeve, at times, he’d curiously listen to the things others say about you, it could be when he passed by some students in the cafeteria or by the lockers or even from students a chair or two away from him in class.

And you seemed like a nice person; he could see you being the protagonist of every superhero movie. Sometimes he’d wonder what it would be like to actually get to know you other than to just piece things together from a few “I heard Y/N loves dogs”.

You’ve done many admirable things that even he seemed to adore you from afar just like the rest, not in a creepy way, again. You sounded like a likable person with a lovable personality, and he wanted to get to know you as a friend.

He eventually planned to get closer to you,

but he’s just someone else in the crowd.

Sure he had friends, he’s gotten recognition for awards he’d get from swimming competitions or spelling bees’ maybe, but he’s just but in the end he wasn’t any different from the rest.

And you’re- you’re THE Y/N, who’s on the stage.

Do you know that kind of feeling?

He isn’t- crushing on you per se, he’s admiring you, he’d call it. Whenever he’d walk past your desk after finishing his paper earlier than you, or when he’d pass by you laughing with your friends, he’d just feel like he wanted to talk to you, there’s just something about you that pushes him to get closer to you.

And he was just fond of you. You can’t like someone in these types of conditions. Well, technically, it shouldn’t be possible.

He’s read and heard of love at first sight, but he’s just glanced at you, for all of his days in this pit you’d call college. There was just 0 to nothing for him to be crushing on you after hearing about you? seeing your eyes? and hearing your laugh? He knew himself, he wasn’t that easy.

He’s sure of it... At least he believes he’s sure of it.

“Oh.. haha, my bad! I really didn’t think you were waiting for my text but I guess this was my fault for making you worry.”

You seemed awfully sweet.

Chan held back a small smile at your message, it’s just as if he could hear your little voice in the back of his head.

“So.. Chris... Can I call you that? Let’s get to know each other soon! We could probably get some coffee.? Or if you’re not into that, what would you like to do? We need to be on good terms to work better together right?”

Oh my goodness.

Chan’s smile dropped almost immediately as he read your message. Oh no... Goodness no.

He set his phone down and looked at the wall in front of him, aimlessly trying to think of a reasonable answer, or even contemplating whether he should go or not, this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

I could meet with them and get to know them, they have a point, we have to be on good terms for us to work together better. But going would put them in an awkward situation of always starting up a conversation-!

His thoughts ran wild as he thought further into the question. He ran his hands into his hair, messing his curls up and aggressively ruffling them as he groaned loudly at himself.

Chan’s eyes closed in an attempt to think straight, he can’t leave you hanging for so long.

As he slowly opened his eyes, he eyed the text message of yours and with a heavy sigh, he told himself, Screw the consequences.

“You can call me Chan or Chris, whichever is comfortable for you, and sure, we can go get some coffee sometime.”

Chan mentally cursed at the haste of his fingers and as he read back his message, he did sound a little … stoic? He seemed to be a dry person on text, he is, but he doesn't want to talk about it.

“Great! There’s this new coffee shop in my district, wanna check it out together then? How’s Friday after classes?”

‘Um- Excuse me..? Y/N, right?’ Chan awkwardly gripped his bag strap, squeezing it tightly as he watched you turn your head to him with the warmest smile he’s ever gotten all year.

Oh my goodness

‘Oh- uh yep! That’s me, and you’re Chan right?’

Oh my goodness

Chan blinked for a few moments before nodding his head quickly, you chuckled slightly at his (very obvious) nervous reaction. You two awkwardly sat in your positions, weirdly looking at each other, waiting for the other to say something or to do something.

Maybe you two were just the same despite how different your worlds were.

‘Uhh.. h-have you ordered anything-?’ Chan scratched his neck to seem “natural” even if it wasn’t doing much anyway.

You forced a small cough into your fist just as you laughed awkwardly, breaking the weird eye contact you two just had. ‘No- uh- ye-yeah! Yeah.. I did, I didn’t know what you liked though so I just ordered you something simple.’

A small sorry smile crept to your face as you slowly looked back at the boy. ‘Sorry..’

O h. M y. G o o d n e s s.

Chan returned the smile with his own, a very very awkward, lopsided smile. ‘It’s fine- I like coffee any-‘

‘Two orders for Y/N? Please come to the counter to claim your orders!’ One of the workers from the counter yelled.

The two of you perked up to look in the direction of the counter.

‘Oh- well, I’ll go get our orders, you can go ahead and sit down. I'll be right back!’ You scrambled to pile your things together out of habit as you quickly gestured to the chair across your own to Chan.

Chan nodded timidly as he watched you get up to get to the counter. Just as you turned your back from him, he hugged his bag in front of him as he weirdly settled into his chair.

Slowly starting to feel more awkward by the second, he squeezed his bag closer to his torso, feeling eyes on his back despite no one really caring about what he or you did at all.

He fiddled with his bag strap, wrapping and unwrapping it around his finger as he waited for you to come back with your drinks.

It might have been a few minutes or even less than a minute, but to him, it just felt so different to be in this kind of setting where he thought everyone was looking at him.

How could you be in this type of environment every day and not freak out?

He thought you were amazing for that.

‘Hey! What’s got you so deep into thought? You seem bothered, is there something wrong?’ You offered him that same warm smile you gave him earlier. He realized how you were already sitting across from him.

As he looked up to meet your eyes, he could see your smile grow as you chuckled softly while you waved your hand in front of him.

He shook his head slowly, ‘No, I was just- thinking of ways to not mess up our conversation you know?’ You both laughed at his rough attempt to joke around. He’s more than glad that you think it was funny too.

Chan couldn’t hold back a hearty laugh as you told one of your goofy stories with the other friends of yours back at the university.

Chan thought his friend group was the wackiest but you seem to be just as wacky.

You couldn’t continue on as you laughed just as loud as Chan at your own stories. You had this side that made him adore you, even more, you were as everyone told him, probably the next best person to be living and breathing right now.

You two ended up having the weirdest stories ranging from science theories to Harry Potter books and now to embarrassing stories either you or your friends experienced.

I mean, at least the conversation didn’t end, right?

As soon as you were about to finish the story, an employee approached you two and told you that the shop was going to be closing soon so they should prepare to leave soon. You two didn’t notice how some of the people in the coffee shop had left already, there were still many for the capacity of the coffee shop, but it was calmer as compared to how it was when you two met up earlier.

Chan’s laughter calmed down as he blinked a small tear away from laughing too much, both of you following what the worker told you to do soon after. And as you two quietly packed your things away and grabbed your unfinished drinks to go with you, Chan would laugh softly at the remembrance of your story and you would accompany him with a giggle of your own.

While you two headed out of the coffee shop, Chan held the door for you to go first, he urged you to go before he did but you did the same as you joked how you two could (should) “equally” exit the coffee shop.

You were slightly embarrassed at how he held the door open for you, but in the end, you had to accept it with a laugh into your fist to ease your embarrassment.

‘Well.. that was a great story.’ Chan chuckled

You smiled softly at his little chuckle, you two awkwardly looked down at your shoes, and the surroundings around you two started to darken into a dark indigo color.

‘Uh-m I guess- this is goodbye..?’ Chan put up a small grin and a small unsure shrug.

You nodded your head timidly at his attempt to say goodbye. ‘I mean.. congratulations on not messing up our conversations today, I really had fun.’

You both giggled at your joke, referencing what Chan said earlier that afternoon.

This time, the both of you didn’t want the conversation to end, you two seemed like you wanted to keep talking and telling more stories, but unfortunately, every day had to end at some point.

‘I guess.. I’ll see you tomorrow then…? In the lab?’ You subtly asked the boy, you subconsciously played with your fingers as you held onto your notebook.

To this, he grinned.

‘I’ll.. see you tomorrow.’

Chan slumped into the metal chair facing the empty train tracks, he felt exhausted, not from your conversation today, but because of how much he’s been outside, talking to someone.

He felt like he had run a marathon, his eyes drooped and his legs felt like jelly.

“The train heading to _________ district 8 will be arriving in 30 minutes”

A goofy smile appeared as he thought about your little hang-out earlier, you were so nice and you just had something that made him excited.

And he wanted to tell you something funny again to hear you laugh. He thought that you had the prettiest smile as well, and in whatever you did, you were always so accommodating, it made him feel all warm and nice inside.

You were just too good to be true sometimes. He’s spent half the afternoon with you and he can conclude that you were probably the only other person he would love to talk to forever.

Okay, maybe not forever.. regardless, a long time especially for someone like him.

He couldn’t wait for tomorrow.

“Train ___ heading to _______ district 8 is arriving, please stay behind the yellow tape. Have a safe trip.”

The faint noise from the train coming from the tunnel signaled Chan to stand up, he waddled to stand right before the yellow line on the ground just as how the intercom advised.

He couldn’t wipe his smile off his face, even if his cheeks started to ache slightly, he felt excited.

Maybe this is what they meant how you’d feel when you take coffee.

Like a shot of espresso

Was it the americano you ordered him?

Or was it how you stayed and listened?

Maybe Chan should consider skipping lab period next time.

He dropped a flask.

Spilled someone else’s chemistry experiment on their papers.

Left the burner on for a minute too late

Possibly ruined your guys’ experiment

And bombed the first performance task he had to do with you.

Bombed as in nearly blew something in his face because he forgot to label some of the flasks.

What’s wrong with him today? He’s flunked his chances on impressing you, you'll never deem him worthy to be your lab partner now.

Well, one of the good things that happened was he didn’t end up in the infirmary after everything he’s gone through.

But you burnt your hand because you were trying to save the experiment that nearly evaporated.

For the rest of the day, he felt nothing but guilt and a load of angry judgmental stares from people all around the campus, even some of the freshmen he met gave him the stink eye!

Though it did wear off after a few hours of Chan cooping himself up in the library to avoid all the stares. He’s spent too much time hiding, he forgot why he was doing it in the first place, and he forgot to visit you in the infirmary after the class ended.

Chan’s head perked up from the book he enclosed in front of his face, his eyebrows furrowed as he tried to recall if he ever walked to the infirmary and talked to you. Chan groaned internally at the results of nothing but speed walking down the halls to the library.

But it was past after-school hours and you definitely didn’t need to stay too long for a minor burn. He dropped his head low as he hid behind the book, he bit his lip in regret and cursed himself for forgetting, today might mark the day he’s going to find a new lab partner.

‘You do know the book you’re reading is upside down right?’ You awkwardly sat beside him, you didn’t know whether you two were comfortable with this distance.

Chan’s eyes widened, he stammered and stumbled over his words with ease.

‘No- I- wh- urghm..- w-what are you doing here?’ He struggled to flip the book the other way in haste, he looked back and forth between you and the book as he did.

You couldn’t help but laugh quietly at his “misfortunes”, you raised your hand over your mouth to muffle the sounds of your giggling, the librarian at school was a nightmare to argue with, you experienced that first-hand and you’re not making that same mistake again.

‘Keep your voice down, miss Olivia is not someone you’d want to mess with.’ You jest as you leaned in closer to whisper with a thumb pointing behind you, to a fairly young woman in her 30s glaring at the two of you from the other end of the library.

‘Oh-.. yeah… no kidding, she lectured me 4 times today for trying to use her ladder to get books,’ Chan mumbled, and with a sigh, he closed the book in his hands and raised it beside his head as he faced you. ‘Especially for this book.’

With a slightly uneasy frown, he glared at Miss Olivia’s back as she was taking her sweet time using her ladder to organize a row of books.

‘The book wasn’t even interesting..’ Chan huffed, this made you laugh again, he even joined you in laughing quietly.

If someone ever came across the two of you, they’d claim how ridiculous you too looked trying to laugh without a single squeak, possibly having freaked a freshman or two from the tables across Chan’s table.

‘Well.. maybe Miss Olivia was right, maybe we should have thought of leaving the library if we were just going to joke about how she dressed.’ Chan guffawed, he bent forward slightly, clutching his stomach as he laughed a little too hard.

‘Goodness, who thought you had the guts to actually question Miss Olivia.’ This time you laughed.

As the laughter died slowly into a comfortable silence, at least for you. As for Chan, he thought it might have made you uncomfortable until the lingering idea at the back of his head hit him right in the face.

‘Your hand!’ Chan’s thoughts spoke, quite literally.

‘Oh geez- you scared me,’ You chuckled as you flinched to look at his sudden outburst.

‘Oh I'm sorry I- I forgot to visit you at the.. infirmary this afternoon, and I am also sorry for.. burning your hand..’ Chan’s shoulders slumped in guilt as he glanced at you now and then to gesture at your bandaged hand awkwardly.

You subtly waved his apology off, laughing softly, “Everybody makes mistakes right? Plus it wasn’t too badly of a burn, that’s possibly why they advised us to use gloves in the lab.”

“Yeah but the whole day I had to hide in the library since everyone was indirectly making me nervous” Chan hugged himself exaggeratedly to point out his joke.

You giggled as you looked towards the setting sun as you two walked towards the gates of the school. “Well.. these things are gonna happen anyway, don’t mind them, sooner or later they wouldn’t even remember this ever happened.”

“Oh really?” Chan turned to you with a slightly unconvinced reaction as he hugged himself tighter, reminding you of the joke he made earlier.

Both your laughs and ongoing jokes stopped as a big gust of wind blew by. Brings some leaves to scatter and drag on the narrow driveway you two walked on. The setting sun burned the blue skies with tints of orange and red, crunchy leaves drag themselves all around them, making a slight crinkle sound from a leaf or two, and the small pebbles that rub against both your soles, accompanied with your the small taps from either yours or Chan’s shoes, you couldn’t tell.

Chan wouldn’t admit it, but he felt like you were right. Reassurance sure is nice, even if it didn’t promise anything. Chan’s shoulders relaxed as he let his body sway ever so slightly with the wind rushing by you two.

“So.. you’re not worried anymore? You know.. that people would keep staring at you.”

“No, you told me not to worry.” Chan smiled at you.

You thought he had a unique smile, in your opinion, and in the nicest way possible, you thought he resembled a dog.

“I guess this is goodbye, my district is over there.” Chan turned to you just as he stopped at a certain convenience store just a few steps away from the school gate, he pointed his thumb behind his back to nothing in particular but at the path going off into a neighborhood.

You nodded your head as you purse your lips. “Alright... I guess it is, I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“We don’t have lab tomorrow though?” Chan raised his brow curiously, did you forget there wasn’t a laboratory period tomorrow?

“I mean- we could still meet, right? I’m pretty sure there’s no rule that forbids us to meet aside from lab periods.” You hesitate to fully say your suggestion, rejection was … quite frankly a rare thing for you, so you decided to take caution.

“Oh.. uh- yeah! Why- why not..? I mean sure we can... I just- don’t know if you’re free..?” Chan’s voice slowly turned softer as he rambled on.

You chuckled softly before nodding your head at his answer. “Technically, I would have the time since I suggested it. But we will see.”

As you two bid each other a goodnight and a pleasant goodbye, both of your minds had racing thoughts and endless pep talks. All that the sun touched that day was nothing less than happy.

12:34 pm

About 30 minutes before lunch break, Chan noted.

It’s been a few hours since you two said “hello, good morning, what’s your first class today?”

Well, it sort of seemed like none of your classes seemed to align today, which bummed Chan out a lot. He kind of wished you were part of his literature class so he could be your partner and he wouldn’t be counting the minutes till he gets to leave.

You can’t blame him though, and he most definitely did not hate his partner, it was Jisung, how could he hate one of his closest friends? But he certainly wished Jisung would stop his weird jokes, but aside from that, they don’t seem like a bad team for the assessment.

He convinced himself that he shouldn’t be too clingy (he thinks it’s him being a tad bit too “clingy”) and he tried to admit that there shouldn’t be any problem right now, he’s with one of his best friends and he’s doing alright in his literature class, everything was smooth.

But a small part of him asked about how you were doing in your “dreaded” calculus class.

Jisung snapped his fingers in front of Chan’s eyes that were focused on their small scattered pile of papers on their desks, but he seemed to be unresponsive to all that Jisung said or asked.

“Earth to Chan? Are you still there? Hello??? Little Chan, please tell Chan to pay attention to our project!” Jisung jokingly knocked at Chan’s forehead with the back of his index finger and middle finger.

Chan furrowed his brows in confusion and slight disgust at Jisung interrupting his thoughts. “I’m still listening, I’m just- thinking.”

“Does it have to do with our 3-page reflection paper that we need to complete by the next two weeks?” Jisung tried to put his chin up to act serious. Chan looked at Jisung in confusion as he glanced around the classroom before nodding his head reluctantly.

“If you were thinking about it, you would have at least answered my questions, I mean I was asking some interesting questions and you didn’t even bat an eye at me!” Jisung crossed his arms and shook his head disappointingly at his partner.

“Well- what was your question anyway..?”

“So you lied!”

Chan ruffled his hair just as he yawned. What a day.

It completely slipped Chan’s mind all about your agreement the day before. It didn’t cross his mind even if he escaped literature and he just went on with his day without realizing he forgot something.

4:35 pm

It’s been a long day.

Chan couldn’t wait to get home and faceplant into his bed. This past few weeks college has been sucking him dry, it was sort of a miracle if he remembered certain meetings around the campus.

He trudged down the stairs with his backpack hanging off his shoulder, his eyes barely stayed open, it was weird how he hadn't slipped and just slid down the stairs.

“Chan?”

“Hm?” Chan whipped his head around and looked around aimlessly trying to find someone who called his name.

“I guess your day has been eventful.” You giggled at his confused expression. He had this particularly odd-looking smile, it wasn’t big or anything as compared to a grin or a tight-lipped smile you usually give people.

“My day? Oh no, it wasn’t that bad, I’m just insanely tired from trying to write a 3-page essay for literature earlier.”

“All in one sitting?”

“Nope, I wished though.” You laughed softly as you felt a little embarrassed to laugh a little too loud with the very few students still left in the corridors.

You noticed Chan’s state as you two walked down the stairs together, he had a slight drag on his feet, and miraculously he wasn’t tripping on his other foot. He was asleep, but also awake? Your lab partner is just as interesting as your lab experiment.

“That’s weird.” You muttered with a small smile tugging at your lips.

“What’s weird?” Chan muttered back, like two friends sharing secrets.

You guffawed at his reaction and his response. You will never really understand how he works and he gets a little more unexpected the longer you sit around him.

“How about I take you up on that agreement we had yesterday?”

“Agreement-?” Chan scrunched his face up a little, trying to rack his brain of anything about the day before.

“… That we could hang out after classes? Or to just hang out again today..?” You tried to hint it out for him, you hoped he did remember it though, it was rare anyone made you do this, you know, hint it out for them to remember.

“Oh?”

“You know what? Maybe we should just go get you something to wake you up, you’re basically a zombie. How’s coffee?” You put a supporting hand on his shoulder as he was tipping a little off to the other side, you worried that he was about to faint if you kept talking and ignoring his state.

“Oh... That’s okay, I like coffee anyway.” Chan replied as he smiled, it was a little lop-sided but you thought it was one of his best features, based on how long you’ve been with him.

“How do you like Americano? Is it not too bitter for you?” You eyed his dark drink in his hand as you two walked around the neighborhood park in the area.

“No..? How do you like Caramel Macchiato? Is it not too sweet for you?” Chan raised a brow at your drink.

“No?? It isn’t even sweet-“ You put the back of your hand to your mouth as you laughed at his reaction, he cringed as you tried to explain why you like your choice of coffee.

“Well.. Americanos don’t seem bitter to me,” Chan added a tone into his comeback as if to sass you, but all you could do was laugh a little harder into the back of your hand, and you soon made him laugh too. “You just can’t handle it I guess.” He scoffed.

“Goodness.. you sure like to surprise me every time.” You shook your head playfully as you giggled a little.

“Surprise you? In what way?” Chan’s smile grew as he awaited your answer.

You fidget with the straw in your cup by twirling the beverage with it as you try to juggle your words around. “Well you.. have really interesting reactions, that’s one. Two, you seem to be really genuine with how you react to me.”

Chan’s smile turned into a small tight-lipped smile as he listened to you.

“At first, you seemed like you just wanted to impress me, but in the end, you just started to become someone you’d meet every day-“

Chan was about to open his mouth to thank you for saying such nice things, but coming from you felt like a weird dream he never wanted to wake up from. But he was touched and he couldn’t or he wouldn’t want to let you know that, this meant a lot to him.

“- I don’t mean that you’re like- not special or anything.. I just.. I don’t meet a lot of people like you… anymore.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“I mean- with everyone just thinking I’m like someone high and important, no one ever has their own thoughts or ideas anymore, it’s just all aligned with mine and I’m-.. not open to anyone or anything “new” or “ordinary” anymore.”

You held your hand by the cap, fingertips just slightly gripping the sides, letting that hand fall to your side as you watched your shoes kick stones along your way. Rambling on all about the burrow of problems in that head of yours.

“I’ve been around a lot of people who just constantly expect so much, even if it was indirect or when they don’t even mean it that way. You know what I mean?”

“But you wouldn’t want to be someone who’s always stuck in literature classes or someone who just won a few medals in swimming competitions.” Chan offered you the sweetest smile you’ve ever received in a while, it radiated the sun, it felt warm and welcoming, and you wished to have such a sugar-sweet smile to offer to someone.

You were so jealous. Because you know what? Maybe you did want to be someone who was always stuck in literature classes, maybe you did want to win a few medals from small local swimming competitions even if it were just bronze medals, heck! Maybe just winning a position in the runner ups or just being able to participate!

What do you have to do to get a simple.. care-free life like this? A normal life like this?

Everyone just seemed to be better and living a better life, better than yours.

“I’m so jealous of you.”

“Me?” Chan pointed to himself hesitantly, he didn’t want to make assumptions about who you referred to as “you”.

You laughed a little under your breath, “Yeah, weirdly enough, I am,” You smiled sadly at the dark asphalt beneath your shoes. “You’d think that I’d be happy, and I have everything every freshman wishes for in their Junior year.. but all I got were stares.”

“Stares? Well maybe, that’s because you’re doing so well in almost all that you do?” Chan tried to comfort you and to lift your spirits higher as you stumble over thoughts and your feelings.

What were you doing? You’re embarrassing yourself, that's what, you thought to yourself, an uncomfortable lump formed in your throat, making it hard to swallow. You feared you would probably sound stupid if you spoke right then and there.

You forced a small smile at the boy who looked at you a little concerned, you hated that look, did he pity you? Or was he faking being concerned at your little sob story.

He was just your lab partner, after all, You don’t even know each other well enough, would he care?

You shook those thoughts away, you trusted that he wouldn't be like that, you prayed and crossed your fingers that he wouldn’t ridicule you after this. You just overshared a tad bit, that shouldn’t be a problem, right?

“Y/N? Are you alright?”

“Yup, I think I’m just a little out of it today, this coffee is a little too sweet.” You chuckled into your fist, brushing off what just happened earlier.

“Oh.. I can drink it for you or I can get you a new one if you don’t want it anymore, you don’t need to drink it. I'm speaking from experience, those types of light-headedness are not fun, especially after school.” You laughed at his offer, you wanted to just take that leap of faith and trust him.

You want to consider him your best friend from that day on, he was a gem. But you can’t..

“I mean I could just drink it later, plus- you said you didn’t like sweet coffees?”

“Oh no.. Like I said before, I like coffee anyway, I just don’t prefer it too sweet.” Chan made a small pinch with his fingers as he tried to show you a measurement of his preference for preferred sugar levels in his coffees.

“Well help yourself,” You handed him your drink, you barely drank from it since you seemed too in your head rambling on to your lab partner. He reluctantly took your drink, he was a little cautious, and he didn’t think you’d actually give it to him.

Chan took a sip of your drink and cringed at the sweet taste that left a bitter aftertaste of the coffee, squeezing his eyes shut and he sucked his teeth in as he nervously eyed your drink’s cup with the logo of the cafe.

“Wow.. that is sweet.. TOO sweet.” Chan scoffed at your understatement of ‘a little too sweet’, to him, that was a little too flavorful for him, maybe caramel macchiatos are just not his thing..?

“I did warn you.” You laughed at his expression as he sipped the beverage again, he thought maybe it was just because of his bitter, plain-old americano, but no, this was way too sweet for his liking, for anyone at all!

That or Chan has a thing for bitter, plain-old fashioned Americanos more than bright, sugary sweet caramel macchiatos.

“Oh uhm.. this- this is my stop.. sorry our “hang-out” was cut short, my mom would be worried if I missed the bus home.” You awkwardly glanced at the bus station that hung around the corner of a building.

Chan waved you off followed with that same sweet smile that you thought matched really well with the overly sweetened coffee in his hand. You returned that smile to the best you could. “It’s understandable, it is getting late, get home safely.”

You nodded at his goodbye. You two waved to each other as both of you shuffled further in the opposite direction, Chan noticed the orange-tinted skies and the red sun burning through the blue sky, the red streaks mixed with orange made Chan wonder in awe, after a long day, the sun still tries to glow, how admirable.

Chan smiled as he walked back to his district.

He’s glad you.. “opened up” to him.

But Chan wanted to say he knew how you felt but no one likes being told that, he wanted to say he wouldn’t do that to you, but would you even believe that? He wanted to let you know how much you sparkled in his eyes and maybe to others too, but you probably would have just laughed it off, he wanted to tell you that being someone like him was nowhere as a good or comfortable place as you thought,

He was a coward, nobody likes a coward.

‘Did I mess it up again?’

You leaned your head onto the glass window of the bus you rode on, this wasn’t even your bus.

It was going in the opposite direction of your home.

You argued that no one could blame you, you wouldn’t like to bore someone all after that awkward confession of yours, you could have kept everything together like you were supposed to

But something pushed you to tell him.

Sighing quietly with your hand under your chin, you watched the shadows of the sunset turn darker as the faint reflection of the moon shone through the window. Each street lamp passing by became blurred lines mixed with the green bushes by the sidewalk.

Maybe if you just did what you were supposed to do, maybe if you controlled your emotions, maybe if you kept your mouth shut

You could call him your first real friend.

Now that’s out the window, who would take that confession so lightly, who would look at you the same once this gets out around the campus?

You frowned at your reflection on the glass pane, as you stared at it longer, you realized how you looked as if you wanted to cry.

That lump in your throat made it hard to swallow, your emotions were leaking like a broken pipe, and you couldn’t help but tear up a little. Just as you thought you could trust someone, just as you thought you could finally make a friend who you genuinely wanted to get to know.

You’re not the Y/N everyone adored and wanted to be, you weren’t the Y/N that was “friends” with everyone in every room you walked into. You weren’t the Y/N everyone loved.

You knew that, but you tried to be that person.

The same person who looked back at you in the mirror was the person you wanted to be.

And now Chan knows this.

He knows you’re not what everyone made you out to be.

He’s seen you like this

You were so jealous of him, he probably doesn't have to worry about how anyone thought of him, he could be normal. He didn’t have to worry about weird stares you felt on your back every day.

He probably didn’t have to worry about what others thought about him to make a friend or two.

What would other people think about you now?

What would Chan think of you now?

‘I should have kept quiet.’

Chan fiddled with the spare flasks on your guy’s shared desk at the laboratory. As he waited for the experiment to condensate, the slight clinking of glass sounded louder than the scattered chatter. To Chan, it felt like a boom, the kind of boom that you’d see in comic books, the kind of boom that you’d hear from a loud drum.

Settling the flasks he toyed with onto the desk, he buried his head into his folded arms, resting his head to the side, watching his experiment bubble and whistle.

“Did I really scare them off?” Chan muttered to himself.

“I should’ve said something..”

“I was supposed to say something else wasn’t I?”

Chan’s eyes focused on the liquid on the burner but his thoughts were far off.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid! Chan knocked his head thrice with his fist, he knew it was really awkward but, he tried his best didn’t he?

Carefully, he put on his gloves before taking the flask off the burner to stop it from scuffing his project. You weren’t there to help him so the best he could do is follow the instructions you left in case you couldn’t assist him ever since the incident when you burnt your hand.

“They would probably feel too awkward to talk to me again.. what should I do?” Chan wrote down his report as he heard his professor drawing in the classes’ attention, indicating it was time to wrap up.

Chan’s phone screen lit up, showing a text message. He looked over to where his phone was, turning away from the book he borrowed from the library. His literature homework wasn’t going to read itself, which is why you would find him at the library, actually reading.

“Hey Chan, sorry about skipping lab class today, I had something important to catch up on :(( but if you don’t mind, can we meet up in a bit? It has something to do with the project.”

Oh.

Chan gulped as he read your message, you .. sounded off?

He knows no one can really tell from how you text but, his stomach’s telling him that this wasn’t going to end well for either of them.

“The garden?” Chan murmured as he read through another reply of yours, indicating the meeting place. He’s been circling the campus for a while in search of this “garden” you told him about.

“Chris! Over here!” You waved from a familiar fountain, Chan could have sworn your word choice was a little- misleading. There was just a patch or three of grass and shrubs with a singular rose bush in the area; he wouldn't exactly call this a garden.

“Oh- sorry, I got mixed up with which garden you meant. My bad.” Chan sheepishly walked over to you, slightly looking down, like a dog with its tail between its legs.

“Ah, yeah.. sorry I didn’t specify.. I just labeled this area the garden since freshman year.” You offered a small smile. Something Chan has seen you offer other people in class as well.

This was it. This was the sign Chan didn’t want to see.

“So.. what did you want to talk to me about?” Chan averted his gaze from yours now and then as he felt awkward staring into your eyes.

You fidgeted with your fingers, averting your eyes from his as well.

“I was thinking, since the deadline drew closer for our project, I suggest we do our experiment in parts. I've been busy with .. uhm.. other subjects these days too, I think I’ll find the setup easier to manage.”

Chan listened closely to you, your voice grew smaller as you spoke, it was as if you were forced to say this.

Chan sighed quietly, nodding his head in understanding. He shouldn’t bother you anymore if he thought hard, he knew you two hanging out after the project was a far stretch, to begin with, you both had to slowly let each other off somehow.

“It’s alright, I understand.”

“.. alright so I’ve split our jobs into two, here are the instructions and reports for your part, And uh..” You shakily handed a clear folder with paperwork and blank sheets in it to Chan, to which he accepted hesitantly.

“.. uh…”

“Uhm.. I guess I’ll see you on presentation day or something then?” Chan concluded after looking at the file you gave him. He sent you a small smile that reflected your smile earlier.

“… y-yeah, sure.” You nodded reluctantly.

After bidding each other a very awkward goodbye, you two went on your “merry” way, hoping for a miracle to happen to fix this.

“So.. they just… gave you the files and left?” Jisung scratched his head as he squinted his eyes at Chan trying to squeeze an answer out of Chan.

“Yeah.”

“And you’re just going to.. accept it and do your part till they say something?”

“Yep”

Jisung sighed. He took out the lollipop in his mouth that he’s been leaving to melt in his mouth.

“Chan, what are the odds that they would talk to you again? You have to make the first move, you can’t keep wishing for a miracle if you avoid everything, obviously, the opportunity will never strike you!”

Chan just slumped into his chair before pursing his lips together, glooming at the folder you gave him.

Jisung was right and Chan knew it. But what are the odds that he would do what Jisung said? Make the first move?

If anything, Chan was just good at music, he wasn't good at literature, he hated science, he doesn’t like math, he was not in the council and he was just getting by with average grades.

With what he has so far and what he does, the more he doubts about this miracle he’s hoping for.

What a waste, college was supposed to be the time of his life, but he’s here doubting when he’s only got his Junior-, no half of his junior year, and his senior year left, then who knows what’ll happen then.

Chan pondered on the thoughts that constantly re-occur, “half of my junior year and my senior year.. then who knows what’ll happen then.”

What will happen next after this stage in both of your lives? You get a job, he moves away for his job, you might get a master's, you both draw away, and - sooner or later you’re both back at square one, strangers, just like in your freshman and sophomore days.

And when he looks back, what would he see? Regrets? A load of crap he would tell himself about being able to fix this? The stuff he wished you said? The things he wanted to say? Or the things you two were supposed to be?

What a nice way to remember the prime times of your life.

Chan grumbled.

He’s been stuck in his hoodie and underneath his own shadow, hiding in his dorm room and just going on through his day like a normal person, everyday was monotonous, every day he woke up to the same tune of his alarm, he ate the same cereal, he wears the very same choice of clothes, and he goes to the same classes to do the same thing every day.

It’s time he makes college a moment for him to remember. Who wants to look back into 4-5 years of his life with the same routine, Every. Single. Day.

If he doesn’t talk to you ever again because of this, he’ll never forgive himself.

He wouldn’t be able to live with the fact that all these words were all in his head. It would suffocate him, he just knew it would just like every other unsaid thought of his.

“Shi-“ Chan muttered a curse halfway as he rolled to stand up from his bed.

These past years of his life were a blur, what was there to remember? What was there for him to look back to anyway?

Is this what they meant when they made up the saying, “It’s now or never”?

“I have nothing to lose” that’s another saying.

“Go big or go home”?

“The time is now”, that’s another.

How do you tell someone something without actually telling them that “something”?

You can’t, that’s the problem Chan has to overcome.

Chan rummaged through his desk for anything: paper, pen, correction tape, a page of his math textbook(?), anything! He wanted to hold onto something that could be useful! Useful.. Useful, anything..?

He threw onto the desktop all the junk he’s grabbed onto. Flicking the switch of his lamp aaaaaaand.. what a letdown…

A pad full of paper, a half-used pen, cut-out shapes from his math homework, and a pile of unwanted science and literature essays. Goodness, this was supposed to be his “moment”, maybe this is why he hasn’t done anything “significant” in his life?

“This- will do…” he grabbed the pad full of paper, and his half-used pen. Pushing the rest of the junk on his desk to the side to have a fresh, clean desk to write on? Or to draw maybe? He hasn’t figured out what exactly he wanted to do.

Make paper planes?

Write a letter?

“Write a letter?” Chan resounded his thought, cliche, every movie has done it, every cliche love story starts with letters, not all but, it was cliche. But what choice did he have?

What path could he take?

He’s in a box filled with water, with no key. He’s going to have to find a way to do anything in a box filled with water. Unrealistic comparison but this whole problem was unrealistically impossible to get out of in the first place, it was his first time to do this, he’s going to have to knock some attention to the box he’s stuck in. That was his first step.

Dear Y/N- no that sounds weird.

Hello! - erm..

Chan was making blots of inks and erasures on his first sheet. He made faces at his work every time he made something up, quick to erase the words he would write, just like this was his first time to be in this position, he’s never taken the initiative to write his first ever love letter.

Love letter? No no this was just his.. vent. That’s all.

Taking a deep breath as he closed his eyes. This won’t be shown to you. This was his deep pit to pour out his frustrations and feelings. But this is his only way to talk to you indirectly, if he finds the courage to give these to you, the moon would be blue.

Dear Y/n,

Please don’t be frightened when you read this.. or if you do read this. This really is not meant to be creepy! I would love to tell you who I am, because I don’t want to frighten you at all. Do understand this is my first time writing letters to someone. So if it gets awkward or- really weird, just know this would be weird for me too.

It’s weird writing to someone when I could just tell you the contents of this letter, you know, verbally. But I find it really hard to.. talk to you. Weird right? Maybe it’s because whenever I’m near you and I try to speak, they’re just stuck in my throat or in my head. I get really nervous but comforted and at peace at the same time.

I feel that you could make someone feel almost everything in a single blow. Weird right? But that’s how I feel. I’m sorry if that sounded really- creepy but I mean it in a good way, one second I could feel intimidated, the second- I’d feel like I fit in, the third, you’d make me feel as if we’ve known each other for 20 years instead of 20 minutes.

You’re incredible, I mean it. You are one incredible thing, you’re everything nice, Goodness that sounds so stupid, I’m no good at writing letters. I’ve never liked literature, have I told you that? I absolutely hate reading long books. I hate math, and I hate science textbooks.

I like to swim, I used to be a part of this junior swim team. You told me you liked caramel macchiato, swimming is- something like a caramel macchiato to me, it’s cringy to say but, when you take the first sip, it sort of shocks you awake, your mouth gets sour from the sweetness, and then the bitter zap from the coffee, it’s just the same when you get into the water, it's cold then warm then ticklish? I can’t explain it but no matter how weird the feeling is, it never gets old. You just can’t get enough of the feeling or you just can’t get sick of it. And the feeling never sticks long enough for you to remember, so you end up going back to it.

Sorry if I’m rambling, It’s weird for me to express these thoughts from the top of my head, much less to actually write it, I’ll probably never read this again, I do hope that- You won’t find out who I am so soon though. I’d be more than embarrassed.

If you end up finding out who I am. Please don’t tell me you know me. I’ll only cower more. I’ve had my fair share of cowering away, more than enough.

I do hope this letter will find you in good condition, and with that, I’ll see if I can write you another letter. Maybe I’ll be better at writing these? Who knows, well.. you would but..

Anyway, I’ll see you soon?

From:

—————

_____________________________

Dear Y/N

5/4/22

Hello, it’s me again. Don’t mind the dates, I feel like I have a long way to go before coming to terms with myself and actually giving these letters to you. So- I decided, that maybe these can be memory keepers? Uh- like photographs, I actually never thought of what to put in these letters, especially since I think I’m talking to you, like actually talking to you through these letters. I feel it’s unsettling to start telling you my fears or something. I could tell you all about my day but it would just be me describing how the food at the canteen never ceases to gross me out, or all about my friends, or just about me. This seems really insensitive, but what can I say? I’m talking to a piece of paper.

I think I’ll find myself forgetting about these letters after a while, and I’d end up throwing them out once I move back to my parent’s home after college. Or when I move out to a separate home that I’d be spending my days in, till I think about getting a new house.

I ran out of ideas on what to talk about, so if the correction tape starts to chip, don’t mind the erasures. I guess I should talk about my day. Today was - eventfully dull, like always, I mean what’s so special about going to class (the same classes to be exact) and doing the same things all day, everyday. I did our science project in the study cubes we have in the library. It's actually- fairly comforting to have a whole box to yourself. I feel the study cube could be one of the investments of the school that I personally enjoy the most. Have you studied there before? It was my first time if you hadn’t noticed yet. It was surprisingly .. nice to be alone for once, it was quiet, not the awkward type considering the whole front wall and door is made of glass, I think the giant, white, obnoxiously large letters that spell out “study cube” helps keep the other student’s noses out of your business, whoever designed that is brilliant, brilliantly- stupid? I mean I’m no interior designer but they could have done better. (Back me up here, you’re the one in an interior designing class.) (Well only if you want to.)

It’s currently 12:34 am, I would say good morning but...

Anyway, I’m tired, you must be tired, I’ll head to bed, I hope we can talk in person soon, so I can actually stop caving in my dorm room, writing letters like you’re gonna read this. But I can wait. Okay, that sounded weird, but I can’t even keep a yawn in right now. Good night, I can't wait to lock this in my drawer.

from: ________

__________________________________

Dear Y/N

5/5/22

It’s me again. Again, please don’t talk about the dates, I guess you can see how often I want to talk to you? Never mind, that sounded stupid and weird. Please don’t think of me that way.

Do you know Jisung? Han Jisung? He’s told me before that you guys share the same social studies classes, he’s from the literature department, and he’s also tried to sign up for the school paper once, do you remember that? It was during sophomore year I believe, we haven’t met yet, but I guess we saw each other briefly, you were the - editor in chief? Was it? Or someone important in the office, and Jisung mistook you as the person who declined his “audition” (I forgot the term, was it submission?) for the papers, you did look like someone, the someone who actually did disapprove of his work. I was the friend beside him that day that he tried to and I quote “give you a piece of his mind” I still haven’t apologized to you about that, I just felt it was a little weird for me to still remember something like that so I felt embarrassed to bring it up to you now that we’ve actually met.

I do hope that you haven’t strayed away from making friends with my friends. I admit, maybe I did do something wrong but please don’t limit yourself, they’re good friends, I shouldn’t be the reason why you’re avoiding people that I’m usually around with. If I could promise and show you that I would actually mind my own business, I would. Whether you become my friend’s best friend, I really wouldn’t mind. As long as you don’t take them away from me, I wouldn’t mind, even if we aren’t comfortable talking to each other anymore.

That was some word dump, my bad. You know if these get cringed and you did read them, burn these letters, it’s the least you can do before telling me you never want to hear from me again. Knowing me, I’ll never EVER stop thinking about the fact that these letters could be up and running around the campus.

Have you read or watched the series “To all the boys I’ve loved before”? I’ve never been so traumatized from it, which is why now that I have my own letters to keep, I’m quite literally keeping them with my life. Okay wait before you go and ask me why I watched or read the series, I have a sister. And a friend named Changbin.

Seo Changbin, he’s majoring in physical education? Something about a major in sports, I think? I’m not too sure about myself anymore, he’s been transferring and having second thoughts about his course since sophomore year, and I can’t keep track of whether he’s in economics or sports, animal care, or culinary art. This can explain my case, he’s all over the place and you can’t understand what’s going on in his brain so ask him why he thought the series was fun and asked me to join him. (To be fair, it was confusing, but I did find the series- uh- interesting. It’s not my favorite show, but I don’t think it’s as bad as people say it is? I just don’t see why there’s such a big fuss about the movie series with the book series, so I watched and read both.)

Not the stereotypical, “my sister watches said series like any other girl.” She usually isn’t into those. I can vouch for her, for the past.. 18-19 years of growing up with her, I've never ever seen her read a book with that type of genre. And she seemed interested too. So I mean adds on to reasons why I might wanna see what the show’s all about right?

It’s uh- 3:45 pm, and I’ve been stuck in the infirmary with a badly twisted ankle, and I got to pass my time icing the injury so, might as well get a letter done right? I got the injury from playing soccer with my friends, it was a hassle hopping to the infirmary with 2-3 other people dragging attention to you by sobbing and acting like you got a limb cut off.

Until the next letter then.

From:

_______

Chan stretched his arms, leaning back on his chair, another letter finished. He sighed in contentment, his lips formed a flat smile, it held certain contentment and a tinge of fatigue from the finals week he had to accommodate together with his ongoing letter-writing agenda.

It seemed as if he’s been writing letters to you for a while now, even if he only started a few weeks ago. Chan wondered how much his letters have accumulated now. He reached over to the other end of his desk, pulling out the drawer he stashed the letters in, the sealed envelopes were all scattered on top of each other, all with dates and entries like “Letter 4” or “To: Y/N. From: “

He sighed at the sight of the envelopes, picking up a few every now and then to read all that is on the surface of each letter; if he bothered to count, these letters would outnumber the fingers his hands had. Had he been writing every day? He scoffed at himself, knowing well enough he was- amazed that he had this much to say.

Putting the letters back into the drawer, not really caring if letter 8 was under letter 5. He refocused to the newly written letter on his desk, he folded the paper neatly before putting it into a brand new envelope, snapping a tape off the small tape dispenser he stationed on the side of his table, glancing at that little tape dispenser as he was about to reach for the drawer to let the letter in his hand join the rest of his collection, he’s going to need a new roll if this prolongs or if he plans to say any more to you.

Oh goodness.

Chan closes his eyes as he leans back into his chair, his fatigue caught up fast, it was nearing 1 in the morning.

“What did I even do today?” Chan wondered to himself. As he was recounting the events of his day. Come to think of it, his recent days were just spent in the library preparing for the finals, or doing homework in class and writing letters in his dorm room.

As he thought about how his time managing skills were average, to say the least, he couldn’t help but doze off to other topics. He thought of everything he’s done, and everything he’s written, no matter how boring his day was, he always had something to write to you about. He hasn’t talked about his feelings or anything, just about himself, like his hobbies, his friends, his day, it was like those introductions in kindergarten.

Chan glanced at this mini calendar on his desk, it had a line character on the left side of the calendar, and a few of his annotations on the right. Things like “Changbin’s birthday” and “family dinner” were the common things he’d write, just simple reminders in case he missed the notification on his phone.

He looked past the dates with big red circles, those marked the dates of his final exams, and as he looked past those, there was a small note on the last day of the month, “Christmas break”.

Chan could only imagine what Christmas break would look like after finals. He wondered,

By then, would you and him be friends again?

Chan cursed under his breath as he mopped up the spilt apple juice on the wooden floors of his living room. It was way past 8 in the evening, his parents asked him to clean up a little bit after the party his relatives threw for his little cousin in his house. Perfect timing as well, just the day before his graduation. Tomorrow was the big day, finally the day that will mark his completion in college and his successful years passing his course with average grades and a finished bucket list.

His parents were taking down decorations and keeping leftovers, even though the constant rustling and crumpling from the cleaning session in Chan’s kitchen, Chan felt so at home with his thoughts, it was quiet in the neighborhood weirdly enough because usually, he would hear a loud motorcycle zoom past his house at an ungodly hour or an overly enthusiastic rooster or even a party down the street with obnoxious music on the highest volume.

It was like a once-in-a-lifetime thing for Chan, one of his “must-sees” before he leaves his childhood neighborhood, it’s weird because he was against the idea of leaving when his father introduced it to him with the jobs available for Chan in the next city or in the state next to his current one. But every time he thought of everything that happened in this place, all he could think about is college and then the time he fell down his bike and rolled down the street when he was 9, the only reason he wouldn’t leave was because he was comfortable here, no one ever cared that he was wearing a sweater in the middle of summer or no one really cared that he was moving, when he gets out of this place, no one will ever know someone named Christopher Bang.

Maybe his relatives, a few friends, a couple of batch mates but what are they worth in a neighborhood the size of Jisung’s cheeks, sometimes it might not look like a lot but when you really walk around the area, it’s like a whole new place you’ve never stepped foot in yet the air seemed the same, familiar even.

As soon as his parents told Chan he could head to his room to get some rest for his “big day” tomorrow. Chan trudged to his room, he wasn’t at his dorm because the school gave an early warning that he should move out slowly as the semester closes, so now he’s stuck in his childhood room with the glow in the dark stars still stuck to his roof, and his Cars 2 bedsheets. Even if he hasn’t been away from home in a long time, his mother finds his room like some Time Capsule and refuses to change it to his liking.

Chan wouldn’t say he didn’t miss this though, he’d be lying if he did. He could just remember 8-year-old him flopping on the same bed right after doing his math homework and falling asleep almost immediately. Chan bets the sheets would smell like his childhood, something like apricots and autumn leaves, or was it lavender? Chan never appreciated that smell from his blanket that would put him to sleep almost immediately, maybe that’s why he hasn’t been getting much sleep?

As Chan closed the door behind him, he spotted a clean pack of pad paper and his funny-looking transformers and star wars pens in his pen holder. Cereal packs these days don’t give anything, Chan wonders if kids these days experience the meaning of enjoying your childhood if you didn’t collect pens from cereal packs of your favorite show.

He sat down and switched on his lamp, the light flickered now and then and the light it gave off was weak, and .. it was about to go out, maybe but Chan could care less, this was pretty bright for him, he could work his way through this. He reached over and grabbed an R2D2 pen, the pen charm had the head of R2D2 hanging off a slightly rusted chain from the top of the pen. Chan clicked the pen a few times before testing it out on a corner of the pad paper on his desk.

Surprisingly it still works, like brand new actually. This was Chan’s cue to start writing, he decided, this was one story to tell you, next, he wanted to say his final thoughts and finally reveal who he was. Even if he planned to keep this to himself, at least he could finally sign the letters with his name, admitting that all those letters were in fact, his thoughts and his emotions.

“Here goes..” Chan muttered.

‘Breathe in, breathe out.’ Chan tried to pat down his graduation (gown?) outfit and adjust his hat. He frantically wiped his hands on his jeans under his regalia, his hands were much sweatier than usual, not like they were always wet but he figured it was the nerves he was developing or is it excitement? I mean it’s not every day you finally get to receive your diploma and finally experience the taste of adulthood.

Looking at the mirror in his old room was.. nostalgic? He has slightly longer hair as compared to before and he swore he’s grown an inch or two since he last stood in front of the mirror. A small smile found its way onto Chan’s face as he finally saw, with his own two eyes, that not only did he grow physically but maybe he did mature over time, and now’s the result of all his hard work and of all the unnecessary pain he’s been through.

“Dear? Are you ready? You’ll be late!” Chan hurried to the muffled sound of his mother. Shoving a bunch of materials and some notebooks, he didn’t think about what he shoved into his bag, he took as much as he thought he’d need from his desk top.

His bag seemed heavy but Chan figured he can sort this out later, he can’t fix time if he was late for his graduation.

“Coming!”

Chan heard all kinds of boisterous noises screaming, cheering, strained laughs and sniffles. He’s taken at least 2 naps in total and he’s seen his parents and younger siblings in one of the seats behind him. It had been a good 3 hours? His behind was getting numb and his brain was empty and all he saw was nothing but gray as he clapped aimlessly every time he heard a name being called to the stage.

He doesn’t mean to be rude at all but he’s been half asleep half the time and he doesn’t even know half the students being cheered for, they were all people he’s seen but never cared to get to know or just didn’t seem like they were interested in being friends with someone like him. He never liked to talk to a lot of people so he didn’t have a problem with that.

Graduation seemed slow at first, Chan was seated beside people he barely knows of and strangers and parents of said strangers were all around him, occasionally he’d be woken up from his doze by the loud shrieks of this girl in front of him or the low obnoxious cheers from the varsity player beside him. But luckily after a while, the names started to deplete, and soon after he would get called on stage and his friends too, he heard your name but the people in front of him stood on their tippy toes and screamed at the top of their lungs.

Graduation was definitely a once-in-a-lifetime experience, a milestone, an honor that you wear around your neck. Now that everyone was flooding out the auditorium, chatters among students with things along the lines of “I can’t believe it! We’re out of this place for good!” And “Can you believe it? We’re graduates!”

And if Chan was, to be honest, he felt the same way. It's unbelievable that college just ended like that, all those years blown away in one big gust of wind, Chan could hardly recall the days he’d complain to his friends about how he would consider dropping out if a certain teacher didn’t lift the workload. (As a joke of course)

As Chan caught up with friends he forgot about “sorting” his bag out from earlier and he was pretty carried away with the jokes and diploma-shoving banter from his friends and some acquaintances from different classes. He could almost smell the tinge of sweet autumn breeze in the air, like a reward after all the grueling years of college.

He felt the slight odd-one-out item in his bag as he gripped it before slinging it over his shoulder. As Chan walked out of the auditorium he could smell a familiar scent and an “aftertaste” of a certain drink. Caramel Macchiato.

Maybe it was just his mind playing tricks on him, or a hit of nostalgia, or just a familiar feeling he missed resurfaced. He held onto his bag as he ran up to his friends waiting at the side of the auditorium to tell them he had to catch up with someone before he could miss them.

Chan ran back to the auditorium, looking all around him for a sign of you but all he saw were teachers and some staff members cleaning up the mess as well as some students who were just chatting with friends, but none of them resembled a certain Y/N.

He ran outside and went to gardens and sanctuaries students usually stayed to hangout. At this point he was losing hope, it was getting dark and each minute that passed was a moment he hoped he could catch up to you, he hoped you’d still miraculously, still be there waiting or that he could somehow catch up to you.

As the day was coming to a dark, vibrant orange, and the sun was slowly setting with each tick of his watch. Chan, with all hope lost, trudged to the front gate of the school, he tried, that’s one story for his very final letter maybe.

He thought about all the places he wanted to check, he wished he could be everywhere all at the same time in case you decided to go to a certain place, he wouldn't have missed you if it were that way.

He dragged his feet, kicking pebbles along the way and fallen pine cones in his way. Chan heard chatter from a distance and he just prayed it was his friends waiting for him, he wanted to take his mind away from you, or from this whole thing, he should be celebrating after all!

Chan couldn’t look up for some reason, scared it could be you or your friends, he wasn’t really prepared for a moment like that you know?

“Chan? Where have you been?”

What?

That doesn’t sound like Jisung at all. Chan looked up to find a certain caramel macchiato enjoyer. You.

Chan’s mouth was slightly left agape, what’s with his luck? He wouldn’t count this as luck but neither did he think this was something unfortunate. He gulped as he held onto his backpack strap, why did you ask where he’s been? Have you been looking for him?

“Hey..?” Chan answered meekly.

“Hi.. uh..” You laughed nervously as you looked at your friends and waved them off for a bit before turning back to Chan.

“Can we talk?”

You two asked in unison, both with a similar tone in your voices, it wasn’t something like after an unresolved break up or with misunderstood feelings, more like a needed congratulations.

And an awaited goodbye.

“Uh, my bad you can go first.” Chan offered.

“You should go first.” You insisted.

Chan coughed awkwardly into his fist, averting his gaze to the side before pursing his lips. This was it, this was it, this was it. Chan encouraged himself as he unzipped his bag to get the box out of his bag.

As he handed it to you with his eyes looking off to the tree behind you.

“I wouldn’t say this is a graduation gift to you per se, but it’s something I meant to give to you for-.. awhile? I guess you could say that.”

You took the box into your hands as you furrowed your brows, but offered a small smile to him. Chan finally glanced back at your expression. He was worried you’d be sort of negative about this but to his surprise, your smile was something that resembled an overly sweetened caramel macchiato. Sweet, too sweet on that note, but enjoyable, stereotypical, an everyday thing but you could tell the barista made it with a whole lot of love and effort, in short, it was genuine and Chan longed to see that from you after a long while.

“Don’t open it!” Chan outstretched his hand as you slightly lifted the box’s lid off.

“Open it at least a week later, or-.. well when you start to miss college, yeaH! TILL YOU MISS COLLEGE! Or -.. better a week later..!” Chan rushed as he tried to push back the cover.

You chuckled at his antics just as you nodded at his request(?). You tucked the box’s lid back on properly, easing Chan’s nerves.

After a long comfortable silence and a few awkward giggles and chuckles here and then, Chan started to bring back the topic, “A-anyway.. your turn…”

“Ah right.. my bad… uhm” Now you were afraid to look at him.

“I wanted to congratulate you, we had a good score for our project, and your delivery was great. Sorry, I couldn’t have… congratulated you earlier, I- I wanted to for a while actually ! But I figured you were too busy juggling with the finals and with your swim practices..” You hugged the small bouquet of flowers in your arms.

You grinned sheepishly and laughed awkwardly to ease the tension you felt, Chan offered the same laugh before answering.

“Oh no no it’s no problem, I haven’t been able to congratulate you earlier either! So it’s no worries! Really.” Chan waved you off as he averted his gaze to look at his shoes.

“Well uhm.. this is for you by the way.” You smiled sheepishly as your voice grew small while extending the bouquet of flowers to him, the plastic’s soft crinkles seemed to fill a void of silence that you two couldn’t fill. Chan doubted either of you were bothered though, in fact it reminded him of the autumn leaves.

Chan’s eyes grew in astonishment as he was faced with a dozen roses, from the looks of it, it was just freshly picked as well. He hesitantly glanced at you, asking if this was really for him before reluctantly accepting the bouquet of roses into his own arms.

“Oh.. thank you..?” He turned from admiring the roses to thanking you with a slight confused tone, you chuckled softly. “Sorry, I’ve never gotten flowers, it’s usually just me giving them to my mom.”

“You can give these flowers to your mom as well.” You shrugged playfully as you watch Chan erupt into laughter.

“I mean, people can give others flowers right? Plus it’s graduation day, isn’t it tradition?” You offered him a smile, Chan couldn’t understand what was behind it, to be fair, he couldn’t even understand if the smile he was giving was because he was happy he got his first ever bouquet of flowers or the fact that you thought about giving it to him.

Chan exhaled, as if he were holding his breath but he was able to feel a wave of relief as he inhaled the fresh autumn air. “It is tradition but you rarely see it happen these days.”

“At least you got to see it for yourself right? Doesn’t it make it extra special?” Your smile never faded but your eyes softened at the sight of Chan, you missed this.

“It does.” Chan held the flowers close to his chest as his smile grew, the sides of his eyes crinkled slightly.

After a while of silence, the two of you laughed off the awkwardness before nodding in acknowledgment that you both are here, at this moment, you two can finally say goodbye..? It felt short-lived but this was all that Chan has been wishing for since his first letter.

“I should probably get going now.. It’s getting late and.. your friends are probably waiting for you.” Chan gestured to your friends chatting behind you, before offering you a reassuring smile. It’s time to go home, or well to go with your respective friend groups.

“Oh right.. Yeah.. I should probably get going as well.” You glanced back at your friends and chuckled softly.

“… I guess I’ll see you then?” You held onto the box Chan gifted you and you felt your fingers squeezing it, realizing the smooth, soft, feather-like texture of the box, something similar to a stationary box.

“Yeah.. Until then I guess.” Chan unconsciously gave the bouquet in his arms a squeeze, it was already impossibly close to his chest but he hugged it closer, finding uncut thorns that poked at the thick plastic wrapping and colored paper outer wrapping.

You two waved to each other as you both giggled to yourselves, you were relieved that even with the gap between you two before, something’s don’t really change. You hoped and wished maybe you had more time to say goodbye, but you can’t keep him here forever.

Slamming the door shut as you sighed harshly, flopping onto your bed, face planting into your pillow. Turning your head to the side just to sigh again, it was a small disagreement with your parents and it ended in you storming to your room and planning to keep to yourself until the whole thing blows over.

Closing your eyes, you squeezed them shut, your head was starting to have a slight pounding sensation at the back. Just your luck.

As you opened your eyes, you noticed a familiar box on your desk, you never noticed, and maybe it’s because the baby blue shade that was confused with white, was blending with the polka dots. You sat up on your bed, ignoring the slight headache from falling into bed.

Reaching over to grab the box from your desk, you realized there was a small tag stuck on the box, it had a small “Chan’s things :)” in a carefree, child-like handwriting, you smiled at the endearing sight, everyday it’s like you could still see bits and pieces of him.

Opening the lid your eyebrows raised in shock? Amusement? Maybe in the middle of both. Multiple letters (you assumed) were in airmail envelopes with stamps that were considered valuable were on corners of each one.

Picking the first one in the pile to inspect it, you realized that each envelope had the familiar handwriting of Chan, it wasn’t neat nor was it messy, but you found it something like a characteristic of his. With each letter that you picked up, more emerged from the bottom of the pile, you wondered how Chan was able to fit hundreds- maybe even thousands of these letters.

You put the pile in your hands back into the box before plucking a letter randomly, opening it, and finding an evenly folded paper inside and with the letter being addressed to you. You were seeing the date of each letter being from a year or two ago. Subconsciously picking another random letter up into your free hand as you read. This process continued until half the pile in the box was transferred to another pile of opened envelopes beside you.

As you finished another letter, you carefully folded it back to how it was and inserted it back into its envelope before stacking it on top of the other letters you finished. Opening a new one, and you realized it had a second page, you noticed the dim lighting from your window and realized it was late. And that you’ve spent your remaining afternoon reading letters.

This letter didn’t have a date. You figured it could be a really recent letter or a letter Chan forgot to mark.

Dear Y/N,

On this day is my little cousin’s birthday, and it’s just a day away from our graduation ceremony. I went to his birthday party and when I entered the first thing he called me was, crispy. For obvious reasons, I do hope that I don’t give off that vibe.. or get-up, and I do hope you won’t call me crispy either, Chan or Chris, that’s it, not crispy. Weirdly enough his parents and MY parents egged my little cousin on and they started to call me uncle crispy. Anyway, tomorrow is our graduation day. I have my letters in a box, only recently did I get a box for them, and you know what? I tried to count them but I sort of lost count, so I’m stuck with thinking I wrote 87 letters..? But I don’t recall writing that much though, hopefully, it isn't, I don’t want you reading 87 letters of just me talking about how much I hate mathematics class. I also forgot to ask how was your day? I hope it’s going well. I believe this will be my last and final letter to you, I doubt I’ll have time to write another one tomorrow, not with my nerves for the graduation ceremony. I’m still unsure if I want to give this box of letters that are sitting on my desk right now. If I do, and you will see this letter, I hope you won’t be creeped out or- anything.. I mean well with the letters.

Since this is my last letter to you, it might be one long one. It’s just for goodbyes, you know? I’m going to be moving out of the dorms soon. I've done some packing early in the week so I’ll be out of here faster than I estimated, which is why I concluded that this might be my last letter. I’m not sure if I’ll stay in the neighborhood either. I have plans, I guess you can say, and it involves me moving out of the country or off to another city. Honestly, from the bottom of my heart I want to stay here so in turn that if you wanted to say something to me before I go, I’d hear it. But from the pit in my stomach, I don’t think you would even stop to think about these. Throw these letters out as soon as you read them though, I really don’t see why you would keep them in the first place and I want you to promise that you will, I’ll only sleep better if I know you will.

Below this paragraph is the things I’ll finally say and mention to you, after a long while of not being able to admit these things to you, no they are not problems, or complaints, neither is it obsessions and addictions, just my feelings, not necessarily feelings as in romantic feelings, but feelings as in the things I thought and felt when we were friends, and/or when we had the chance to hang out. If you don’t want to read beyond this, feel free to just throw it out.

Do you remember when you made your first friend? I can’t really remember the feeling, but I remember the memory, but what’s a memory without feelings? A black and white picture maybe. To be fair I have made a lot of friends, in my whole life, I don’t recall meeting more than 20 people a year so.. being “friends” with a people’s person did get into my head for a while. You’re admirable as a person, I’m sure people around you have made that clear, but I think when I met you, half of me or probably more, was happy to meet someone who didn’t seem too intimidating. Maybe you were intimidating at first to me, considering your status but after sometime you seemed like the warmest, kindest being I’ve encountered. I may not know what it’s like to be in your place everyday and I may not know what you see in your eyes everyday, but from what I know, you’re going through so much, and yet you have so much compassion and kindness despite it all. That’s admirable.

Maybe I am wrong and maybe I’m just overthinking but I feel that there were some things left unsaid, and some unexpected outcomes in our friendship and I understand you need space, and you’d rather save yourself the trouble, which is why I’m writing these letters to you, in hope that when you’re ready to talk to me, and that I’ll be too late to reply, at least I’ll have some answers for you. I’ll admit, if I knew my timing, if I knew how to approach you, and if I knew how to resolve things that are left undone, maybe I would have reached out to you sooner, but sadly, I don’t, and I could barely tell time on regular days, either I’m too sleepy to care or it’s usually around dinner time by the time I get out of the building, whether it be from the dorms or from school and I don’t have the guts to even talk around new people or well.. talking to people was never really my forte, to begin with, and I’ve always hated solving math word problems, so I’m sure you could tell why I didn’t approach you sooner and I’m sure you know that I’m actually not so special, I’m a little below average actually. I’m the definition of a quiet kid that, maybe only 3 people in the whole batch knows about me, even if I wore sweatshirts and vests instead of hoodies or khaki pants instead of joggers and even if I walked around wearing clothes like that, no one would care who I was because I wasn’t going to be special or I wasn’t sticking out like a sore thumb. (Not that you are one though)

But you, on the other hand, you’re like the definition of a successful, “someone-whose-future-is-bright”, “they’re-going-places” type of student. And sometimes they forget that putting you so high on a pedestal… makes you so isolated from everyone else. I must admit, I looked at you the same way, like some otherworldly- being. Which I’m sure you didn’t know..? Or pretended to not know maybe. But after hanging out with you for a while, after you told me what you said to me that day? I realized you’re just a person, who has dreams and passions, and fears and flaws. I realized you’re just trying to fit in what others say you are because you felt like if you didn’t, you aren't Y/N anymore. I admire that you still strive to be the best. That’s something a normal person can’t do. That’s something I can’t do. This must be the other reason why I looked at you like some “otherworldly being”.

Oh gosh, that was a whole word dump. I apologize, really, it’s just what I realized and I wish I knew that early on, and I wished that I knew how to tell you that it was okay to let your guard down. And that if you need help, I’ll always be willing to lend a helping hand.. and I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you that earlier on. I also want to apologize for that day, my answers weren’t really well thought of and maybe I didn’t consider what you could have felt either and I’m sorry, I know I could have done better and maybe I wouldn't be holed up in my room on the night before we graduate, writing this letter to you. You know what? It’s funny, people would call this and my other letters “love letters” even though I doubt the rest had anything to do with me claiming I loved you or anything. I’m only using this method as an actual way to communicate, you know, like how letters were actually used before. But to say that this last one is not a love letter, might be a lie. Love letter as in me telling you these things because I care about you, be it platonically, romantically, I wouldn't know, I’ve never felt anything like this before and I doubt it’s what they call love. They say it's something like being close to the sun or on cloud 9 or talking to the moon or something, hell, what does it mean to be on “cloud 9”? Wouldn't it hurt to be close to the sun? Why would someone talk to the moon so eagerly when you’re “in love”? I talk to the moon about my science homework, would it mean I love science? Do you get what I mean? This isn’t a letter about me being in love with you romantically, it’s more like a letter of admiration? Of care maybe. A care letter(?). But if these were symptoms or bits and pieces of love, in the romantic sense. I wouldn’t know, because I guess love will come differently to everyone else. But right now, when I think of you, my lungs are alright, my heart isn’t beating abnormally and my hands aren't shaking. In the time that I can confirm this is romantic love towards you, I guess I’ll write another letter to admit that to you. I learned in my time of writing to you that having unsaid thoughts and “feelings” have a choking effect on you. If anything, I’m telling you this because half of me confides in the fact that we might never meet again, and the fact that I know I’d rather not force these thoughts and feelings down my throat. I’ll admit to you that, even if we spent maybe a week? Or half a month? Hanging out with you and thinking back on it makes me feel like we spent ages growing up together and yet I can’t even recall your favorite color. Am I just forgetting that important detail or did I never ask? Maybe you would’ve gotten awkward if I asked that before, don’t people on dates usually ask that? I hate to say that this is most likely our last conversation. And you know what? I feel like I spent a good amount of time completing my bucket list in college. I made a new friend, “fell in love” I guess, and got through the 4 years with memories. Thank you for being part of my 4 years here, it was a blast. Might be the most I’ve done in my whole life, and.. one thing I have to admit before I end the letter.

I lied. I actually dislike americanos, I mean I don’t hate it, and I do drink it, but bitter isn’t usually the option I’d go for, the reason why I stuck with it was because you ordered it for me and in time.. I didn’t really mind the bitterness anymore, I guess I was distracted talking to you. I also disliked science projects, mainly because it’s never my forte and because I was never grouped up with someone who tried to cooperate with me. That day in the cafe where we first met? I didn’t actually think about anything, I was just- scared, no I wasn’t scared of you or anything, I was scared of what others will think when they look at me with you. I still do, and I think about it a lot whenever I write a letter to you. The rest are completely true though, I hated literature classes, I never liked math and I had a small hobby for swimming and I had my cousin’s birthday party today, and that I have 2 other friends. But the truest thing about me, in my letters? Is that I “loved” you, platonically or romantically, I can’t tell, it’s just as I said before, I have never been in love with someone romantically, maybe platonically but I don’t really know that feeling either. Maybe it’s unconfirmed but the fact that I dislike americanos but in turn ended up liking it, is true, because like I said before, I like coffee. And I’ll never really know if that’s true for me, maybe liking americano will or is just a phase because of your influence (?) but I never really lied to you have I? I like science, it’s just the projects I hate, I was thinking of some things on the day when we met. I was thinking about what others would think about me sitting in the cafe with you. So.. the fact that I can admit that I “loved” you, isn’t that technically true as well? This is exactly how my thoughts are right now in my head as I write, confusing but, it’s not everyday I can put my thoughts into words like this.

I’m going to end the letter like this, I think I’ve said everything that’s been burdening my heart, I think this is all that I can say. I may be someone normal and maybe I’m someone you probably have forgotten about a long time ago, but I’ll always remember you as someone I was probably romantically and/or platonically in “love” with. As we are parting ways, you don’t need to say anything regarding this because maybe I’ve already left but because I’m afraid of what you’ll say to begin with. If you feel the same way(?) you don’t have to admit anything to me, just accept the fact that I had the odd opportunity and sudden courage to tell you this. But believe that this, and the rest of my letters, were written with my whole heart and with good intentions and with the purest emotion and thoughts a human being can put into words.

Goodbye Y/N, I hope you read this a week later as you promised. (And that you will throw this out like I told you to do)

And I hope to see you soon in the future.

Sincerely yours,

Chris.

48 notes · View notes

tobesobri · 4 years

Text

Traditions | 17.3k

a/n: it's been a while since I uploaded writing and for some reason I decided to sign up for this challenge and by some miracle actually managed to write something for it 🤯anyways, this is for the Valentine's Day Challenge by @1dffchallenges and it's honestly just a bit of fun, enemies to lovers little bit of angst and some smut! so i hope you enjoy! I'd always love to know your thoughts!! (also pls excuse any errors, I wrote this in a week with little editing lol)

prompt: doube date

dialogue: “So let me get this right. You want to hire me as your date for a Valentine’s Day Party?”

Pink and red were speckled throughout the entire office, whether it was a bouquet of chocolate roses, a banner of hearts, or stuffed bears residing next to bowls full of heart-shaped candies. Every employee’s section of the office had been filled to the brim with decorations as well. Pink and red ribbon taped carefully around the edges of their desktop computer, little store-bought balloons, also heart-shaped, grouped together and tied to desk chairs.

And Y/N, dressed in her typical all black outfit, rolled her eyes as she paced through the office toward the one section in the back that was immune to all things heart-shaped, pink, or stuffed.

She sat down at her desk with a loud sigh, her purse hitting the floor in its usual spot just before she slipped out of her jacket and draped it haphazardly between her back and the chair. It’d be wrinkled by the end of the day, but she didn’t care all that much, nor did she put much thought into the stains on her purse from leaving it on the floor. All she concerned herself with, after settling in, was getting straight to work… which was put on hiatus when she came face-to-face with both a pink and heart-shaped sticky note plastered onto the center of her computer screen.

Groaning, she ripped it off and moved to turn her computer on before she bothered to read whatever was written on the note. She considered three potential suspects while she pulled her keyboard down onto her desk and logged in. There was Kayla, who worked front reception and was one of the main culprits of all the Valentine’s decorations. A strong contender. It could’ve also been Ines or Carmen, her closest work friends whom Y/N knew both owned a pad of pink, heart-shaped sticky notes.

However, when she finally let her eyes fall to the note as her computer loaded up, the handwriting didn’t match any of the women she knew, and she was quite positive that none of them would have written was was sprawled out in black ink either.

Roses are red, violets are blue. I will fill your office with teddy bears and balloons, if you don’t send me your half of the proposal by two.

Harry.

She crumpled the note and tossed it into the bin under her desk. He could go fuck himself for all she cared. Sure, she was nearly done with her portion of the work and would be able to send it to him before then, but now that he’d pestered her about it, he’d be lucky if she even bothered to send it to him at all.

She didn’t doubt the promise, i.e. threat, he made on the note, but being surrounded by teddy bears and balloons would be worth making Harry’s life just a tad miserable.

After opening all the apps she’d need to get her work done, namely Photoshop and Illustrator, she connected her drawing tablet and set up the rest of her work station for the day, both on screen and off.

Harry had worked at the company for about two years longer than her and she’d started off as an intern while she was still in college and, after graduating, was hired as a permanent graphic designer. They had never really gotten along ever since Harry—jokingly—asked her to get him a coffee once… or twice. Unfortunately for her, though, they ended up working well together and their boss had stuck them both on the same projects ever since. Especially after the month-long project last spring that had been their most successful one to date.

While she came up with the design parts of client projects, Harry handled the more technical side of things and they’d never really argued much over each other’s work even though they clashed constantly at a more personal level.

“I see your feeling festive.” Just as she’d gotten into the groove of her typical morning and had forgotten all about Harry’s stupid note, his voice interrupted her entire thought process. So when she swiveled around to find him leaning into her little office space, it was hardly a surprise when she glared at him, even though he feigned offense at her bitterness.

“You got my note, I presume.” He let himself into her space anyway, holding a mug of steaming coffee she was sure he’d just made in the workroom, and leaned up against the opposite side of her desk that housed a much larger, digital drawing tablet for when she needed to do more intricate design pieces.

She just swiveled back around to face her computer again and went back to work as if he was no longer there. Pretending to ignore his existence proved to be quite difficult when the very particular woodsy, vanilla scents of his cologne met her nostrils and filled her entire office. Not to mention, the sight of what he’d been wearing singed the backs of her eyelids so that she still saw him every time she blinked. It was as if her brain refused to let her forget what he looked like in his white button-up, sleeves rolled to the crooks of his elbows, all tucked into his fitted black trousers that tended to get the imaginations going of all the women in the building.

Not her though, of course. She was better than that. Obviously.

He cleared his throat, still very much present in her space and still very much giving her a migraine. “So will it be ready by two?”

“Well, I planned to send it to you before lunch.” She tweaked the spacing between letters of a potential logo for the millionth time. “But now… I think I might need the rest of the day.”

She heard rustling behind her and knew he was shifting his weight impatiently and running a hand through his hair as he often did when he was… displeased. “I told you I’m leaving early tomorrow and I need it no later than two.”

She cocked her head to the side, still staring at her computer screen and not giving him an ounce of satisfaction. “Did you tell me that?” She teased, an amused smirk lifting the corners of her mouth when she heard him groan behind her. “I must’ve forgotten.” Shrugging, she went back to her work.

“Unlike you,” he snapped, “some of us actually have a love life and I’d appreciate you not fucking up mine.”

She froze then, only for a split second, when his words sank in. Two thoughts raced through her head. The first a string of curse words because of his assumption that she didn’t have a love life. But the more prominent and worrisome part of his statement was that he did have one. And that he was leaving early tomorrow—Valentine’s Day—so he could get ready for a date.

Throwing both her prickly exterior and heartbreaking smirk up again, she turned to face him. “I’ve known you for three years now and if anyone has the potential to fuck up your love life, it’s you.”

He narrowed his eyes at her and her gaze fell to the hand that seemed to wrap a bit tighter around his Bugs Bunny mug. His knuckles whitened and she met his heated stare again, pleased with herself for getting him riled up before he’d even finished his morning coffee.

“So,” she continued before he get get a word of retaliation out, and sat back against her chair, crossing her legs confidently as she folded her hands in her lap. “Who’s the poor girl you’ve tricked into going on a date with you this time?”

Harry had a terrible track record. The longest relationship he’d been in lasted for two months, and that was well before she’d known him. Everything else he had was just a one or two night thing and nothing more. Sure, it was all more than she had, but she preferred it that way. Harry seemed to resent the fact that he couldn’t keep a girlfriend to save his life.

“You don’t know her.”

Her smile widened. “How long have you been seeing her?”

“Couple weeks.”

“Ooh, that just might be your second longest relationship, Styles.”

“Well at least I’ve had one.”

His jab didn’t have an affect on her however, and he knew it wouldn’t because it never did. He knew she didn’t give a damn about relationships, or at least that’s what she claimed anyway. He couldn’t think of many twenty-four year old women who actually wanted to be alone. He actually couldn’t think of a mid-twenties anyone who wanted that.

“You’ll have to try harder than that.” She said nonchalantly, which irked him even more than he already was, and then swiveled away from him one last time, picking up her drawing pen and getting back to work.

“What’s your issue with relationships?” He went on and she knew he was headed right down a path intended to hurt her feelings just as much as she had his. So, she tensed slightly and braced for impact. “Is it a commitment thing? Or can you just not find anyone to put up with you for longer than five minutes?”

She let his words sink their teeth in and then smiled to herself. “Hm. Seeing as you’ve been in my office now for,” she checked the time at the top right-hand corner of her screen, “eight minutes, maybe we should date.” She lifted a brow, awaiting his next response.

It felt a bit like a cat-and-mouse chase bickering with Harry and since she was usually the cat, it brought her way too much pleasure fighting with him.

He scoffed. “Like I’d lower my standards for you.”

That one hurt, she had to admit. Not out loud or to Harry, but it still stung because it was true. He’d have to drop his standards to the floor to even consider dating her and she knew it.

“Maybe,” she began, still half focused on her work, and ignored his comment all together, “some of us like being alone.”

“Nobody likes that.” He responded quickly and she heard a shift of his weight again and then his voice once more a few moments later. “It’s nice to be by yourself sometimes, yeah, but you can’t tell me you don’t want someone to come home to at the end of the day.” He crossed one leg over the other as he gripped the edge of her desk for support and just when she thought he was done, he kept going, “Someone you can vent to about your annoying co-worker.”

She glanced at him through the little portable mirror hanging above her desk—mostly used to make sure she looked decent before meeting with clients or, sometimes, Harry—and saw the tight smile on his lips. Almost as if that’s what he wanted, like he was talking about himself and not her.

She’d slowed her progress down while he’d talked until she was no longer working at all. She no longer swiped her pen across the pad or had any idea what she was even doing when she focused solely on his words. Because, once again, whether he was talking about himself or about her, he was right.

“Yeah well,” she quickly hid herself back behind her wall and made her hands function properly again. “Some of us also don’t have the luxury of choosing whomever we want.”

She imagined him smirking at that one because, buried deep within her words was a compliment. That he was handsome enough to actually have anyone he wanted.

Instead, when she glanced at the mirror again and found him, there was the complete opposite of a smirk on his face, and as he stared down into his mug, clearly lost in thought, she wondered what the tightness in his jaw and the frown pulling on his lips meant.

She sighed and stole his attention away from his coffee. “I’ll have it to you before lunch. You can go now, unless you’d like to argue some more and slow me down by another…” she glanced at her clock again, adding up all the time he’d been standing in her office, “fifteen minutes.”

Without another word, she listened to the drag of his footsteps as he finally left her office space. And although she was glad to be rid of his distraction, the room felt so much bigger and so much colder and emptier without him in it. Shivering, she slipped back into her jacket and spent the next few hours doing nothing but staring straight ahead at her screen as she made final adjustments to her designs.

Any other conversations with Harry were had over email as he worked in his own respective office, messaging her with every little concern he had in order to get his work done efficiently so that he wasn’t stressing to finish it tomorrow before he had to leave. Even though Y/N considered not responding to him a few times, just to spite him and slow him down for her own amusement, she found herself feeling guilty after leaving him hanging a couple times. Sure, she hated Valentine’s Day and everything surrounding it, but she’d almost hate even more the idea of both her and Harry being miserable tomorrow, so she inevitably gave in and cooperated with him. She’d probably regret it when he came back on Thursday spreading around the office all the gory details of his date, but at least he wouldn’t also be in a shitty mood. Her days were both boring and slow whenever Harry wasn’t having a good day. And although she’d blame it all on selfish reasons, it did also make her sad to see him frowning around the office and sulking when all she wanted to do was bicker with him and make him smile again, even just a little bit. But it was easier leaving him to his own devices than risk him finding out she cared about him enough to not wish sadness upon him.

She couldn’t say the same for him. Harry probably relished in the days she came into the office in a sour mood. He probably celebrated and threw a party whenever she was upset, and, even so, it didn’t change how she felt about him.

The sun had long set and most of the office was gone by the time she finally called it quits and began packing up her things and giving her computer a rest for the night. There were still quiet murmurs from other workaholic employees, which comforting her knowing she wasn’t completely alone in the building, since the last time she’d done that, it took everything in her not to have a panic attack all the way to her car.

Even though her boss told her countless times not to stay past five o’clock, as he told every other female employee that worked for him that he didn’t wish to see attacked after sunset in the city. Of course, when she was the only one who didn’t listen to him, he hired more guards and one of them rounded the corner into her office space, ready to escort her all the way down to her car.

“Figured you were still here.” He leaned against the walls of her cubicle and watched as she startled, twisting to meet his eyes for a moment before she settled and returned to slipping her belongings into her purse.

“I don’t need you to escort me.” Zipping her purse, she rose from her chair, checking one last time across her desk to make sure she’d grabbed everything she needed to take home with her before turning to him as he still lingered in the opening of her little office.

William had been hired a couple months ago, and was only a year older than her, but even so he was more than a foot taller than her and his biceps were about as big as her head. While the entire office drooled over him, she tended to keep her eyes and her thoughts to herself.

“You say that every night you stay late. Just let me do my job and shut up about it.” He smirked at her and when her eyes met his again, sharply, glaring at him, she groaned and whirled past him toward the elevators. He followed swiftly behind, knowing she’d close the doors on him if he didn’t keep close enough pace with her, mostly because she’d done it before.

As he took his spot beside her and she pressed the button for the parking garage at the basement of the building, a familiar voice rang out through the office.

“Wait!” As if she wasn’t already annoyed enough with William’s presence, his stupidly large arm held the elevator doors open as Harry slipped inside a moment later.

“Thanks, mate.” Harry said exclusively to William as he caught his breath and stood wedged in the middle between the guard and Y/N, who was inching closer and closer into her corner to get away from Harry.

“You have any plans tomorrow?” Harry asked, his attention solely on William again while the elevator took off down through the levels of their building. Not fast enough for Y/N, of course.

William sighed, crossing his arms and trying to resist smiling. “Me and my girlfriend take turns surprising each other every year. And it’s her turn this year… so I guess I have plans, but I don’t know what they are.”

“Damn, way to make us feel incompetent.”

Y/N whirled her head to glare up at the side of Harry’s face. “Speak for yourself.” She warned.

Harry just ignored her though. “What did you guys do last year?”

Again, William stifled a grin. “I had been saving up for a while and took us both to Paris.”

“Shit.” Harry’s eyebrows rose and Y/N rolled her eyes away from him, watching the LED screen above the elevator doors as they neared the bottom levels of the building. She knew Harry and William had become friends, mostly because Harry was annoying and befriended everyone. Except her, of course. She heard his stupid voice again and wished she could just transport herself directly into the front seat of her car and be done with the both of them. “And now she has to do better than Paris.”

Y/N glanced around Harry just in time to see William smirk and she should have known what was about to come out of his mouth before it did. “Well, I don’t consider much better than her mouth ar—“

Y/N cut him off. “Ew! Are you serious?”

Both men eyed her curiously just as the elevator came to a stop and, with a ding, the doors opened. She flew toward them quickly.

“Y/N wait, I have to—“

Again, she cut him off, turning once she was out on solid ground. “I’ll be fine, besides trying to rid my mind of that image you just burned into it.” She turned on her heel and headed off toward her car.

William made a move toward her and Harry grabbed his arm, “I’ll walk her. Forgot she’s a bit of a prude.” They shared an amused look and Harry jogged out onto the concrete and asphalt until he reached her side.

“I heard that, you know… and I know for a fact your car is not parked in this direction.” She seethed and he just smiled to himself, happier than ever that she was in the mood to bicker with him, because he wasn’t quite in the mood to leave yet, where he’d have to wait till tomorrow morning at nine-thirty to see her again. And she wasn’t always the most talkative person on Valentine’s Day, either.

“Why are you the only female in our building not foaming at the mouth over him?” He asked instead, referring to William.

He heard her scoff. “Just because he’s attractive doesn’t mean I have to be interested… or want to hear about his girlfriend sucking his—“

“Cock?” Harry finished for her and within a second she spun around to face him, forcing him to stop in his tracks just inches from her now. His smirk only grew when he saw just how quickly he’d gotten her all flustered.

And then, as they started each other down, the hardness in her face softened and she drew out a breath, forcing his eyes to fall to her lips and his smirk to fall from his mouth. He thought back to last spring, when there were numerous late nights with her just like this one. When he went home and couldn’t stop thinking about…

“Why are you looking at me like that?” She asked and he blinked a couple times before he lifted his eyes.

“Like what?” He furrowed his brows, trying to track down all the resentment he had for her but he couldn’t find it anywhere anymore. He couldn’t summon it and say something that would save his ass from being caught looking at her like he wanted to kiss her.

Like he wanted to taste her and feel her against him, and hear what she sounded like when he tugged at her hair for more.

“Nevermind.” She shook her head, silencing the chaos going on in his brain. And then she turned, continuing the walk to her car with or without him, but, when she heard the echoing click of his shoes against the asphalt once more, she knew she wasn’t rid of him yet.

“I don’t suppose you’ll give me a ride back to my car, will you?” He easily stepped back into place beside her like nothing had happened.

She didn’t say anything for much longer than he was comfortable with. And then, finally, they reached her car and she sighed. “Get in before I change my mind.”

As she went for the driver’s side, he took quick steps to the opposite side, watching her over the top of her little Honda as she unlocked her door, and then, after clicking the button, his door as well. They both slipped in at the same time and while she fastened her seatbelt and settled in for her drive home, he sat perched with his backpack in his lap, knowing he’d be out of her car within only a couple minutes.

He still glanced around at his surroundings as she backed out of her parking space. “Should’ve guessed your car would be as neat as your desk.”

She didn’t say anything as she drove in the opposite direction of the exit toward the section of the garage Harry always parked in. It was closer to the elevators because he always came in before her and snagged a prime spot. She preferred an extra few minutes of sleep over walking an extra fifty steps.

And he started up again when she continued to not talk to him. “Most artists I know of are super messy.”

“I’m not an artist.” She gritted out through her teeth as she came to a stop once she spotted the rear-end of Harry’s BMW. Although she knew it well enough to distinguish it from the other black BMWs in the garage, it also helped that Harry had an old, faded license plate cover filled with a collage of cute pictures of puppies. He’d said it won him bonus points with women, but she also knew his screensaver at work was a picture of puppies as well, and no women he was interested in ever saw that.

He peeled his eyes off his car and looked over at her. “I know you can draw, too.”

She paused, gripping her steering wheel. She did enjoy both art and design and she knew Harry knew the difference between the two. She just didn’t know why he always insisted on bugging her about it.

“Yeah, well that doesn’t make me an artist.”

When he didn’t say anything, she glanced at him just in time to find him shrugging a shoulder like he was agreeing to disagree. Even if she couldn’t draw, he’d still consider her an artist because the things she managed to design always blew his mind and if that wasn’t art…

She rolled her eyes. “Are you going to get out, or do I have to drag you?”

He grinned, and it was almost as if her eyes refused to see anything else but his dimples and the bright whites of his teeth, and the birthmark to the side of his mouth…

“I’m going.” He assured, and yet he still hadn’t moved an inch. “Even though I’d love to see you try to drag me.” With her knuckles whitening on the steering wheel, he chuckled and unzipped the small pocket on the front of his backpack, withdrawing his keys as he finally swung her door open.

Once he was out, he gripped the top of the door and leaned back in to find her staring straight ahead. “Drive carefully, yeah? Would be quite tragic for your bitter ass to die on Valentine’s Day.”

She reached over and, despite having to brush her knuckles along the side of his thigh, grabbed the handle of the passenger door and yanked. His body remained in her way, however, and he was unfortunately a lot stronger than her.

Then she finally looked up at him, and those thoughts he had earlier surfaced again as much as he’d tried to bury them. This time though, he didn’t fight it as he glanced at her lips once more, then back at her eyes, which had widened slightly just before the dimples reappeared in his cheeks. “And I guess I would miss bickering with you every day.”

With that, he was gone and she retreated back to her seat as he shut the door for her. She had no idea what to think about what had just happened. Why he’d looked at her like that again. What that look even meant.

By the time she reached the freeway, she’d convinced herself she was just seeing things. Harry wasn’t looking at her in any other way he had before when he was intent on pestering her. But, as she took in the scent of him still lingering in the cabin, she allowed a small part of her to hope she was wrong.

Her eyes fell on the man down the hall from her door as she slipped her key into the lock, her brows furrowing as she watched him. It wasn’t unusual for their paths to cross, as they tended to get home around the same time, but it was quite odd to see him sitting on the floor outside his apartment, his head in his hands.

They’d said hi to each other a couple times in the mailroom, but she definitely didn’t know him well enough to go up and ask what his issue was or try to fix it for him. And after it was confirmed that he hadn’t, in fact, lost his keys, as they sat beside him on the floor along with his phone, she figured it best to leave him be.

Turning her key, she pulled her gaze from him and disappeared from the hallway.

The second she was inside her apartment, she felt all the weight lift right off her shoulders, especially when her cat came racing up, screaming at her from the floor while also coaxing her toward the kitchen to fill the food bowl. Whatever was going on with her neighbor still very much on her mind, she tried to focus instead on relaxing and getting both her and the screaming Pretzel some dinner.

She tried to remember his name as she heated up leftover pasta. She knew it started with an A, but her brain was coming up short. So, while Pretzel crunched on his food in his corner of the kitchen, she tried her hardest to remember.

And it was no question why she cared so much. Her neighbor was someone she was actually interested in, and she had been since she first saw him. Of course, she was never foolish enough to think he was into her, but she still let herself fantasize. He was tall, nearly black curly hair atop his head always in a state of disarray, and he had the most beautiful blue eyes she’d ever seen hidden behind his glasses. And, if she was being honest with herself, he was just a darker-haired version of Harry. Maybe that’s why she liked him.

The beeping of her microwave tore her thoughts from the dangerous path they’d been headed down. Harry’s voice rang in her head a moment later.

Like I’d lower my standards for you.

She’d needed to hear him say that, because sometimes her thoughts got carried away when it came to Harry and sometimes she did let herself be a fool who hoped. But after he’d said that one damning phrase, it was enough for her to stop. She didn’t meet a single one of his standards, inside or out.

Still, she tried her hardest not to go back out into the hall and make sure her neighbor was alright. Maybe he just needed someone to talk to and it wasn’t like she was doing anything important. Even if she didn’t have a dumb crush on him, as she did Harry, she still didn’t enjoy seeing him in the state he’d been in.

Before she could work up the nerve, however, a knock sounded through her quiet apartment.

She held her breath as she opened her door, really hoping it wasn’t the boy from across the hall, since she was still blanking on his name, but she couldn’t imagine anyone else knocking on her door this late into the evening.

So when she inevitably found him there, looking down at her through his annoyingly long lashes as she took in the horrible state he was in—red, inflamed eyes and hair that needed to see a brush rather than his hand—she completely lost her breath instead.

“Uh, sorry, I… saw you come in and I know we don’t talk and this is a weird thing for me to ask but…” He ran said hand through said messy hair and she found her breath again while looking up at him like she’d do whatever he’d asked just so he’d stop frowning.

He sighed, glancing down the hall toward his apartment and then met her curious and somewhat concerned gaze. “Can I come in?”

She recoiled. “Um… why?”

“Well, um, I was hoping you could help me with something and I’d rather not have the entire floor know about it.”

She was beyond confused now, but still, she stepped aside and let him pass, assuming that if he was actually a murderer he would have done her in a lot sooner than this. He had plenty of other opportunities. Plus, something in his face just… made her want to trust him.

She closed the door and turned to him, watching as his eyes scanned her kitchen and where her food still sat before he twisted around, eyes wide. “Shit, I’m sorry for interrupting.”

She shook her head. “It’s fine.” And after clearing her throat, she crossed her arms over her chest. “What do you, um… what do you need help with?”

He swallowed and she watched his Adam’s apple budge in his throat. “I don’t imagine you’ll like me very much after I ask but… I need a date.”

“What?” Again, she nearly flew out of her skin.

His eyes darted back and forth between hers, gauging her reactions and very obviously on the verge of seeing himself out and pretending this never happened. Instead, he stuffed away his pride and went on. “My ex… she, uh… well we broke up a few months ago and I saw her the other day and she’s seeing someone and we were talking and I… told her I was seeing someone too and so she invited me to go on this stupid double date with her… but the thing is… I’m not actually seeing anyone and I just told her that so she’d be jealous but she didn’t seem jealous at all and I don’t exactly have many friends to ask for help and I saw you and…” He rambled, but she managed to understand his predicament just fine.

“A double date? With your ex?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know either. She’s… she does weird shit but… I still want her back.”

Y/N’s heart ached in her chest. As much as she detested relationships, she was a sucker for other people’s relationships and she was definitely a sucker for her beautiful neighbor, even if he was asking to use her to make his ex-girlfriend jealous.

“Not that I’m saying yes but… when? And where?” She finally asked after thinking things over for a moment.

“Tomorrow night… I can pay you. I will pay you, I mean… but, seriously, you don’t have to do it I just thought I would ask.”

“Where is this date at?” She repeated when he didn’t answer that part of her question.

“At this party… and bef—“

She cut him off. “Okay so let me get this right. You want to hire me as your date to a Valentine’s Day party?”

He lifted a brow, “Well, there’s more… she wants to get dinner before going to the party.”

She shook her head, looking away, “I don’t really do Valentine’s Day…”

“You wouldn’t have to do much. I’ll pay for your dinner, too. Whatever you want. I just… really need your help and you’re my only option.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “You realize I’m not exactly…” she waved at her face and his eyebrows screwed together in confusion. “I’m not easy on the eyes and I don’t think taking me will make anyone jealous.”

He didn’t say anything for a while, just stared at her incredulously. She shifted her weight nervously and he finally opened his mouth. “You don’t actually think that, do you?”

Her features scrunched up and she kept her eyes planted on the middle of his chest. And then he realized that she, in fact, did.

“I’m so sorry… I shouldn’t have asked you to do this.” He also realized that using her to make his ex jealous would possibly hurt her more than it would help him and he could no longer fathom putting her through that. “I’ll figure it out. I’m sorry.” He moved to walk past her, back to his apartment but she stopped him before he got far.

“No… I’ll help you.” And then she realized his identity was still somewhat of a mystery to her. “This sounds even worse than what you just asked me to do, but… I completely forgot your name.”

He breathed out a laugh. “It’s Adam.”

She knew it had started with an A!

“Y/N.”

He smiled wider and nodded. “I know.” And then his face grew sad again. “I am really sorry I’m asking you to do this on Valentine’s Day, it’s definitely not my proudest moment.”

She waved him off. “I wasn’t going to do anything anyway. Just tell me what you need me to do.” She didn’t bother brining up the whole payment thing. She didn’t really care about being paid. He was nice, the only nice person she’d encountered in her apartment building and if getting him back together with his ex meant she’d never have to come home and see him in the fetal position on the floor again, she’d suffer through a date and a party on her least favorite holiday.

It was somehow even worse than it’d been yesterday. The decorations seemed to triple in size. Not an inch of the office was untouched by something pink and she prayed whoever had put up even more decorations had spared her little cubicle.

“Oh, hey, Y/N!” One of the receptionists most responsible for the overflowing decor, Kayla, called her over to her desk not even a minute after Y/N had arrived. And she stalked over until she saw the package Kayla pulled out that instantly lifted her spirits.

She stopped in front of Kayla’s desk and took the thin box from from her, already knowing what it was and thanking god for the timing so that her entire day wasn’t completely miserable. It was a new drawing pad she’d ordered, a bigger one that she hoped would be a bit more efficient to use than her current one.

Even with her back turned to the rest of the office, she sensed Harry’s presence long before he stopped beside her with his mug in hand.

He lifted a brow at the package in Y/N’s hands just as she reluctantly turned to look at him. “Getting gifts sent to the office? That’s a first.”

She rolled her eyes and stuffed the box under her arm, holding herself back from running off to her office to set it up. “Jealous?” She cocked her head.

And instead of his condescending smirk and a hateful response to go with it, the sparkle in his eyes seemed to fade as he eyed the box again, genuinely worried now that it was actually a gift from someone.

Before either could say anything, they all turned to find a delivery man walking up to Kayla with a giant bouquet of flowers in tow. And so it began. Although, when Kayla took the vase from the man eagerly, a bright smile on her face because Kayla loved love a little too much, Y/N couldn’t help but think about Adam. About how the only time she’d managed to get a date on Valentine’s Day was when it wasn’t even real. Instead, she’d stupidly agreed to help her cute neighbor win back his ex-girlfriend in exchange for a free dinner.

It was… pathetic. To say the least.

She felt Harry watching her, too, while she eyed the bouquet of flowers as they departed reception with Kayla and made their way to their recipient. As stupid as she found everything about the holiday, she couldn’t help but want someone to send her flowers. To give her anything for that matter. To have thought about her for at least a second of their day. Harry cleared his throat and she tore her eyes away.

“So… what’s in the box?”

“None of your business.” She rounded him, heading to her office, but he grabbed her free arm to stop her short and didn’t speak until she met his gaze again.

“Can we meet up in my office to finish the proposal? Think it’ll be easier to get it done than over email.”

She had every reason to be suspicious of him. They almost never worked in each other’s offices. When they did work together, which was often, it was in one of the empty conference rooms and it was usually at the beginning of the process when they needed the space to plan things out. The last time they’d really been in each other’s offices was last spring. Figuring he just wanted to get things done so he could be out of the office on time, she let it go.

“Give me fifteen minutes.”

He watched her walk away, watched her even as Kayla returned and noticed his gaze and giggled at him as she took her spot back behind her desk.

“It was something she ordered for herself, by the way.”

“What?” Harry whipped around again, not having even realized the other woman until now.

“I know you two pretend to hate each other but I see the way you look at her, Harry.” Kayla lifted a brow at him as she began typing on her keyboard.

He feigned disgust. “I’m seeing someone, you know.”

“Are you?”

“Yes.” He insisted. “I have a date. Tonight.”

She lifted her hands in surrender. “Okay… I’m just saying.”

“I don’t look at her.”

Kayla suppressed a smile and snorted instead. “If you say so. I guess you didn’t also sneak into her office this morning, either.”

“I think all these flowers and stuffed bears and heart-shaped things have gotten to your head.” He pointed around to the decor littering her desk while holding his mug steady.

Kayla met his eyes and her smile slipped off her face. “Harry, please don’t mess with her.”

His face screwed up. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“If you don’t like her then don’t lead her on.”

“I don’t think she’s capable of being led on.”

Kayla froze for a moment and then nodded. “You’re right.”

He wasn’t sure what she meant by that either. “Why are you being weird?”

“Because,” Kayla sighed, brushing her curled brunette hair onto one shoulder and then lowered the volume of her voice. “I happen to know she doesn’t think very highly of herself and I’d rather not see her get hurt, especially not by you.”

Now Harry froze. The hand that gripped his mug tightened and he didn’t even flinch as it began to burn his skin. He heard Y/N’s voice in his head then as he drowned out his surroundings.

Some of us don’t have the luxury of choosing whomever we want.

He had instantly regretted what he’d said to her yesterday when she’d told him that. And now hearing Kayla, in a way, confirm what he’d read between the lines of Y/N’s words… his chest tightened in quite possibly the worst way ever. He’d hated himself most of the day after telling her he’d never lower his standards for her and he could say he was just bickering all he wanted, but he knew now for certain she took it the wrong way. And he wished more than ever that he hadn’t said something so horrible to her, especially when it was the farthest thing from the truth.

And the real truth, that he was trying desperately to shove away with stupid remarks like that, was that he didn’t meet her standards. She wasn’t into relationships and he knew he wasn’t good enough to change her mind.

“How do you know that?” He finally asked.

“That Christmas party last year… she’s a really happy drunk until she’s not.”

He flinched. “Did she say something?”

“I don’t want to get into it, mostly because I don’t think she remembers and would probably kill me if I told you but… just leave her be.”

He hardened back up again. “She does’t have any interest in relationships anyway, ‘specially not with me.”

Kayla scoffed. “She’s a really good liar.”

Harry stood there for a few more moments, feeling as if his life had just gotten flipped upside down. He’d been in such a good mood mere minutes ago before his dumbass waltzed into reception all because he’d seen Y/N. Because, despite everything and despite the fact he was already attempting to date someone else, it was Y/N he wanted to be close to all the damn time. Groaning, he turned on his heel and left for his office, hoping she wasn’t there waiting for him so he could have a moment to himself to gather his thoughts.

In a hurry to open her package, Y/N slumped down into her chair tossing her purse on the ground at her feet and pulling out her box cutter in a rush of movements. She was so distracted, in fact, that she didn’t even notice the little stuffed frog, the box of chocolates and envelope sitting on the other side of her desk near her mouse. Instead, she unboxed her new tablet and began setting it up, not noticing the gifts until she went to turn on her computer. And then she froze.

With reluctant hands she grabbed the envelope first, her name printed on it in perfect cursive. She knew nobody in the office who had such good penmanship. Opening the card in hopes of finding out who had placed the items on her desk, instead, she just found it signed as ‘secret admirer.’ Rolling her eyes, she set the card down and realized it had to be from her boss. Sometimes he remembered to go around and give everyone little gifts on the holidays. Obviously he’d remembered this year.

She dug into the chocolates as she set up her tablet and began calibrating it to suit her needs before finally testing it out in the little bit of time she had before she needed to make her way to Harry’s office.

And once that time came, she left everything in its place, besides the box of chocolates, which she continued to pick at while she made her way through the room. What she didn’t notice while stuffing her face with candy was that… no one else had a stuffed frog or chocolates or a cheesy little card on their desks.

She rounded the corner into Harry’s office, which was a real office and not a cubicle that he usually shared with one other person who was thankfully out with clients for the day. She knocked on the doorframe to get his attention after just watching him focus on his screen for a moment. Harry was cute when he was focused.

But then he turned to her and his eyes fell to the box in her hand.

When he didn’t say anything, she held it out toward him. “Do you want some? I think Andrew was feeling generous this year.”

Harry’s eyes quickly panned up to hers and his brows furrowed as if she’d just punched him in the gut. And she couldn’t make out what that expression meant no matter how hard she tried.

“He didn’t give me anything.” Harry motioned around his desk.

“Maybe he doesn’t like you.” She shrugged, setting the chocolates down on his desk while she grabbed his office mate’s chair and pulled it up beside him.

Harry sighed, turning to his computer for a moment and then watching her from his peripheral while she picked out another piece of chocolate. “I didn’t see anyone else with chocolates on their desks this morning.”

Y/N just shrugged. “There was a frog too. And a card.”

“And why do you think he’d give you all of that and no one else?” Harry hoped she’d get the hint but he didn’t hope too hard. She was still Y/N after all. And he really didn’t mean to sound so bitter… well, okay, he did. But he knew she’d misplace his bitterness, crushing what little hope there was to bits.

“Maybe he likes me better than all the rest of you.”

Harry scoffed, shaking his head as he put his attention back on his screen.

“No one else in this office would give me a card signed as a secret admirer so… maybe I did something I don’t remember doing and he’s thanking me?” Now that she really thought about it, and if Harry was right… then it really didn’t make much sense. It’s not like she was Andrew’s favorite employee.

Harry just lifted a brow and then pretended to lose all interest.

Sensing the tension, she slipped the box closer to him. “Here. I think you need a knock-off Snickers if you expect me to work with your grumpy ass.” He made no move to indulge her, however. And so she went on, continuing to poke the bear. “Why are you in a lousy mood anyway? Isn’t this your favorite holiday? And you get to leave early.”

His eyes fell from his screen and he stared at the brick of sticky notes below his monitor before mumbling, “I’m sorry about what I said yesterday.”

Taken aback, she searched what she could see of his face for answers to what he was apologizing for. He’d said a few things she could imagine deserved an apology and yet, so did she. Maybe she should have been the one to apologize to him first.

“I didn’t mean to say what I did.” He finally turned to meet her face on. He’d hoped the frog and the chocolates would have been atonement enough, but considering she thought they were from their boss and not him, he just had to suck it up and actually say what he meant.

She shrugged. “It’s fine. I can be a prude sometimes.”

He searched her eyes for a moment and then shook his head, “No that’s not… I meant what I said earlier in your office… about lowering my standards. It was a stupid thing to say and not true in the slightest.”

But then she smiled and he grew confused. “Yes it is. It’s okay to have standards, you know.”

“I know that. But if we… I wouldn’t have to lower my standards. And it was cruel of me to have said that to you.”

She couldn’t stand looking at him any longer and averted her gaze, clearing her throat. “Well it doesn’t matter so… can we just get this proposal done?”

He’d wanted to spend how ever long it took to convince her that it did, in fact, matter, but Y/N was persistent, more so than him, and so he’d given in and they moved on to being productive with their time. And in less time than he’d anticipated their proposal was finished, being sent off to Andrew for approval before their presentation at the end of the week with their clients.

Harry sat back in his chair and she returned her own to the other desk where it belonged, all while he watched her.

“What do you do on Valentine’s Day?” He asked, just trying to get her to stay longer, knowing that if those were his true intentions, then he was fucked. That he wanted to be around Y/N, even though he was seeing someone else, albeit for just a week so far, even though she’d never want the same from him.

Maybe he was just as terrible with relationships as she claimed if he always chased after what he couldn’t have.

“That is also none of your business.” She grabbed her box of chocolates from his desk, his voice pinning her in place again though.

“Let me guess… it involves chocolate, your cat, and the most anti-romantic movies you can find?”

He would not think her very prudish if he knew what else she did on Valentine’s Day while alone in her apartment, but she figured it was best to keep that to herself. Instead, she smiled at him. “Something like that.”

He narrowed his eyes and threw his arms up behind his head as he laid back in his chair, watching her curiously like he was trying to figure her out. Meanwhile, she was trying to not make it obvious she was staring at his biceps as they just about bulged from underneath the sleeve of his pink button-up. He’d done it on purpose though, so as much as she tried to hide it, he still grinned with satisfaction when she became flustered.

“Well, have fun with that, then.” He nodded, and for a moment while she was lost in his eyes and growing embarrassingly hot, she wondered if he could read her mind. If he knew exactly what not-so-innocent things she did on Valentine’s Day. Then he brought his arms back down to rest his elbows on the edge of his desk, pinching his bottom lip between his fingers and watching as she rolled her eyes, held her chocolates close, and left his office.

Adam arrived right when he said he would at five-thirty. It had given her plenty of time to change out of her work clothes and into one of the few dresses she owned, to at least seem somewhat convincing that this was a real date. She also fixed her makeup and put on a pinkish-nude lipstick before switching out her bulky purse for a smaller crossbody.

When she opened the door to him, he most certainly did not disappoint. She almost let herself get lost in the delusion that it was a real date when she saw him dressed to the nines and cleaned up for the first time since she’d known him. And she especially got a little lost in it when he pulled a small bouquet of flowers from behind his back and handed them to her.

“You didn’t have to—“

“I know.” He gave her a once over when she wasn’t looking. “You didn’t have to do this for me either.”

She quietly accepted the flowers and let him in while she found a vase and filled it with water. He leaned on the counter, watching her as she did so.

“You look… beautiful, by the way.” He blurted out once she had cut and placed the stems into the vase. Her hands froze, though, and when he met her eyes, he knew he’d made a mistake.

“You’re paying me to make your ex-girlfriend jealous. Please don’t flatter me.”

“Sorry.” He muttered, although he was beginning to wonder if the bigger mistake was not taking her out on a proper date that had nothing to do with his ex.

She sighed and adjusted the strap of her purse. “Let’s go then.”

He went over all the final details on the Uber ride to the restaurant. Things about his ex he thought Y/N should know about. And he made sure she knew, for about the hundredth time, that she didn’t have to do anything she didn’t want to. And she reminded him for an equal amount of times that she never did anything she didn’t want to do. So, settling that, he helped her out of the back of the Uber when they arrived and opened the door to the restraint for her as well. Everything that she’d expect from a normal date, which only left her disappointed when she reminded herself it wasn’t.

She waited quietly, and tried to catch her nerves, while Adam talked to the hostess and gave her his ex’s name for the reservation. The place was packed and anyone who didn’t call ahead surely would not be getting a table tonight. She’d never been out on Valentine’s Day, though, so it was like stepping into a brand new world for her. And as she followed both the hostess and Adam, she paid more attention to all the couples enjoying their meals than anything else.

Except for when he reached back and grabbed her hand, entwining their fingers just before they came to a stop. She blinked her eyes at their hands for just a moment before he gently pulled her around next to him. And whatever way she’d felt about holding Adam’s hand went right out the window when she locked eyes with Harry.

Shit.

Shit, shit, shit.

The last thing she expected to find, while Laura, the gorgeous blonde ex-girlfriend, stood to hug Adam, was Harry fucking Styles. And what a fucking coincidence it was, almost as if this was her karma for feeling the need to constantly help people.

Adam’s hand slipped from hers but she didn’t even notice it anyway. She and Harry still stared each other down and neither of them moved a muscle either. Well, besides the one in his jaw as it tightened. Then he did move, glancing over at Adam with a blank expression before landing his gaze back on her again. And then his eyes fell to the glass of water in front of him and she felt like she’d been released from chains he’d tied around her wrists.

“This is Y/N,” Adam’s hand went to the small of her back, guiding her forward to meet his ex-girlfriend and Harry’s current… whatever they were.

Laura held out her hand, her smile a little too forced. “Laura. It’s nice to meet you. Please, sit.” She ushered them to the table as she took her spot beside Harry again. Adam, of course, took the chair opposite Laura, which left Y/N in the one opposite Harry.

This would be a long, hellish night.

She couldn’t help but wonder what Harry was thinking. That maybe she’d come to crash his date. Or, even worse, that he’d already figured the whole thing out. That Adam was paying her to be here. She really hoped he’d never find out because it was just embarrassing enough to make her want to change her name and move across the country, thousands of miles away from him. Harry finding out that she couldn’t get a real date to save her life… beyond humiliating.

“This is Harry.” Laura motioned to him and he just barely lifted his gaze, nodding at Adam and ignoring Y/N entirely. “You know,” the blonde went on, glancing between Adam and Y/N, “I was a little shocked when you told me you were seeing someone again.”

Adam just shrugged.

“How did you guys meet?”

Y/N left all the talking to him. Mostly because she was still in shock that she was sitting across from Harry. And she hadn’t even taken the time to properly take him in and realized he’d also changed his clothes since work. Swapping his wardrobe out for a fitted black button-up, that wasn’t buttoned all the way to the top as his shirts normally were. The sleeves were already rolled to his elbows. He’d shaved off the scruff along his jaw as well and fixed his hair so that it was combed back out of his face, although a a couple rebellious strands hung down onto his forehead. He looked… like absolute perfection. And he was being forced to be on a date with the ex-boyfriend of the girl he was seeing and his annoying co-worker. She felt terrible for him.

“Oh, uh, well we live on the same floor.”

Laura nodded, clearly anticipating more. “Is that it?”

Y/N felt Adam tense up beside her and so she took over, easily spinning a lie. “I ran out of milk one night a few weeks ago. He’s the only one who answered the door.”

She noticed a flash of movement in her peripheral and turned to find Harry’s gaze on her again, one eyebrow lifted curiously. He was either wondering how she hid it so well, or trying to figure out what to ask in order to reveal their ploy. He never said anything, though.

“Sorry, um,” Laura’s tone changed as she glanced between Harry and Y/N, both of them looking away when the other girl interrupted. “Do you two know each other?”

Harry grinned, sitting back against his seat and folding his hands in his lap. “Something like that.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “We work together.”

“Really?” Although her tone said otherwise, Laura’s face said everything about how she felt upon hearing that bit of information.

Adam twisted his worrisome gaze to Y/N, but she ignored it. Harry, however, did not.

“Don’t worry, mate. I was under the impression she was celibate up until now.” With that, Y/N kicked him under the table and he sat forward to swallow the groan that very nearly left his lips after she’d jabbed him in the shin with the toe of her heels. “Guess she’s really good at hiding things, though.”

Adam just chuckled nervously and Y/N shot him an apologetic smile, trying to reassure him that this date would still work out despite Harry.

“What a small world.” Laura laughed, trying to break the tension but dinner hadn’t even started yet.

Sometime during the main course, Laura excused herself to the bathroom and Y/N almost, in a desperate attempt to flee both Adam and Harry, invited herself along. But she figured it’d be worse to be alone with Laura than with them. Laura might ask questions she wasn’t prepared for. So, she stayed put, as much as it pained her to do so.

“So, Adam, what do you do for a living?” Harry asked suddenly and she wanted to kick him again. Mostly because his tone was that of a jealous teenager and he’d waited until Laura was gone to pester her ex-boyfriend who most certainly did not deserve Harry’s pestering.

“Oh, uh, I’m an artist. I work for an animation studio at the moment but I’m trying to get into freelance.”

Harry’s eyes shot to the suspiciously quiet girl sitting across from him. “So is Y/N.”

Adam turned to look at her, but she just glared at Harry. “Oh, I didn’t know that.”

Harry titled his head as he narrowed his attention in on Adam again. “So you’ve known her for a few weeks and you never asked what she did?”

“Harry.” Y/N warned, trying to kick him under the table again but he dodged out of the way.

“Well… she said she was in graphic design… not art.” She had told him that, during their crash course yesterday while they got to know as much as they could about each other in a span of a couple hours.

“I think it’s the same thing.”

Adam just shrugged. “I guess. I don’t think I could be a designer, though. Most artists make what they think looks good, designers create things to appeal to customers.”

“Just ignore him.” Y/N advised and Harry was the one shooting her daggers and attempting to stomp his foot on top of hers under the table this time.

“You and Laura used to date then? She never told me how you split up.” Harry moved on.

Adam swallowed nervously. “She broke up with me.”

“Why?” Harry pushed and Y/N looked at him like she wanted to kill him, which he ignored.

“I, uh… I had a drug problem for a while. I was not the best person to be around sometimes. But after we broke up, she helped me with rehab and everything.”

“Guess that explains why you’re on such good terms.”

Now Y/N really wanted to do more than just kick him.

Adam grabbed Y/N’s hand under the table and pulled her straight from her violent thoughts about Harry. And he didn’t lace his fingers between hers, instead, it felt as if he had just been looking for something to ground himself with. And her hand resting on her lap was the closest thing he could find. It didn’t, however, go unnoticed by Harry and his jaw clenched as he stared at the point in the table where, just below, there their hands met almost as if he was trying to set everything on fire.

Laura returned shortly after that.

As promised, Adam paid the entirety of both his and Y/N’s bill, even though she attempted to snag it from him, seeing as the date had gone to shit and it was all her fault. Well… maybe it was also Harry’s fault a little bit too. But she definitely did nothing to make Laura jealous. Adam, on the other hand, did a great job at making Harry jealous just by existing and being Laura’s ex, whom she was still friends with.

The four of them stood outside on the curb awaiting their Uber after dinner was over, agreeing upon splitting one car to get to the party instead of taking two. Laura was apparently very cautious about fossil fuel consumption.

Y/N shivered as she stood between Adam and Laura, wishing she’d bright a jacket instead of relying on a long-sleeve dress to keep her warm. Then an arm wrapped around her shoulders and Adam pulled her close, running his hand up and down her arm to form heat. She tensed up, though, forming into an immovable brick. She had no idea the last time she’d been that close to another person, let alone a member of the opposite sex. When he felt her go rigid, he leaned down until his lips were at her ear. “Is this okay?”

She just nodded and tried to relax. Which turned out to be quite easy because Adam was warm and he smelled nice. She, of course, didn’t let her mind wander off too far. He was still in love with his ex. He’d still shove cash into her hand at the end of the night for her troubles and go on with his life.

Adam let go of her when the car pulled up and quickly went to the passenger door to confirm with the driver. Then he opened the back door for the three of them to climb in, Laura going first, then Harry, and, at last, Y/N, while Adam slipped into the front seat beside the driver.

While the car took off, Y/N was shoved into the corner when Harry moved closer to her in order to find both his and Laura’s seat buckles in the dark. Eventually, he settled back into the middle and gave her some space again. When she made no move to do the same as them, Harry turned to look down at her.

“Put your seatbelt on.” He whispered.

Her eyes whirled up to his. Wordlessly, and of course after rolling her eyes, she grabbed her seatbelt and he made room for her to buckle it in. Then she sat back in her seat, crossing her arms over her chest while she stared out at the traffic through her window.

She would have stayed in that exact position the entire trip, too, if Harry’s knee didn’t insist on bumping into hers constantly. And she couldn’t tell if he was doing it on purpose or not.

When she glanced up at him, and found the corner of his lips curl upward, she figured it was, in fact, purposeful. So, with the hand closest to him as her arms were still crossed, she poked him in the side, right against his ribs, hoping it hurt.

“Ouch.” He whined, covering the spot with his hand dramatically. Everyone in the car glanced at Harry, all except for Y/N who snickered as she returned to staring out the window.

Harry wasn’t giving up, though. This time, with his arms crossed in his lap, and glancing at Laura to be sure she wasn’t watching, he walked his pointer and middle finger up the outside of Y/N’s thigh, close enough to her hip to make her squirm slightly when his touch tickled her. And as soon as he got her attention, he looked down at what he was doing and pressed his middle finger against her, meeting her gaze with a smirk.

In the same moment, the driver turned up the music in the car as they waited tirelessly at a red light. It was better than silence or listening to his passengers breathing. But Harry mentally thanked him and turned his attention back to Y/N, leaning into her slightly until his lips were at her ear and she shivered for an all new reason.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in a dress before.” He whispered for her ears only. The music was especially loud in the back and he wasn’t sure Y/N had even heard him.

Especially since she didn’t respond right away. But how could she? Harry’s fingertips were still grazing her thigh, as if trying to emphasize the dress she had on. And his stupid knee was pressed right up against hers. She couldn’t think straight.

Though when she finally turned to him and whispered back, “Don’t get used to it,” he knew she had, in fact, heard him well enough.

He leaned again, “Afraid I already am.”

She hated that there were butterflies in her stomach. That he was saying such odd things to her when his date was sitting just on the other side of him. The date who most definitely met all Harry’s standards.

Huddling away from him, she stuck her eyes out the window and kept them there the rest of the trip.

It was just past eight when they arrived, a fifteen-minute trip up through the city taking half an hour due to all the Valentine’s Day traffic. Another reason she hated this holiday.

The party was being held by Laura’s best friend, who’s name Y/N did not care to commit to memory. In the elevator ride up to the penthouse, though, Harry stood close to Laura, his arm wrapped around her waist and Adam to Y/N, although he didn’t touch her. She wouldn’t have minded if he did, but she figured it was best to keep those boundaries in place anyway.

Pink and golden balloons littered the ceilings of the penthouse. The drink cups were also pink, as was the communal punch bowl that Y/N steered clear of, having no idea what was in it, or who had already spiked it. She knew nobody at the party besides who she’d come with, though she assumed both Adam and Harry were somewhat acquainted with Laura’s friends.

It was most definitely not someplace Y/N ever saw herself being at, not only because it was a Valentine’s themed party, but also because she wasn’t exactly comfortable around so many people. Especially when those people were all so unfamiliar to her.

“Here,” Adam handed her a drink and then grabbed one for himself. She downed the thing in one go, needing to take the edge off. It might’ve been a slight mistake when the alcohol burned the back of her throat, but she didn’t care too much when she grabbed another.

Then he was leading her into the dancing pit of bodies where they huddled close enough so that his lips were at her ear. “Is it alright if I touch you?”

She glanced over at where Laura and Harry had been left, finding both her hazel eyes and Harry’s green ones glued to the both of them. She wasn’t sure what Harry’s deal was, but this was her moment to fix things and make Laura jealous, so, turning back to Adam, she nodded.

He eased his hands onto her waist as they began swaying to the music. And then he pulled her closer, his hands slipping to the small of her back as her arms wrapped around his neck, being careful with her own movements even though she desperately wanted to sink her hands in his hair.

And, god, he smelled so good as her head rested in the crook of his neck. And he felt good, too, as he moved against her body. She knew it wasn’t real, and that the alcohol was making skewing her perception of things, but it was still nice. Nice to be held and to just let go for a change.

Over Adam’s shoulder, Y/N caught Harry’s eyes again. His jaw clenched and he looked the same as he did back at the restaurant. Angry. And then she realized that maybe she wasn’t really trying to make Laura jealous anymore at all, but rather Harry.

It was dumb, she knew that. He’d have to like her in order for her to make him jealous. But… the way he was looking at her. The way he had looked at her. His eyes lingering too long on her lips. What he’d done in the car ride here.

She heard Adam in her ear again. “I think it’s working. She just stormed off into the kitchen.” Then he pulled away and she realized she hadn’t even seen Laura. Just Harry. Harry and his stupid, obnoxious green eyes.

“You owe me more than just dinner.” Y/N teased but Adam grew serious.

“I know. And since you refuse to accept my money, I’ll have to figure out another way to repay you.” He smiled and then twirled her around so that she no longer had any line of sight toward Harry. He pulled her close again, one hand going to her waist while the other stayed locked to one of hers. “Suppose I could start with making your coworker just as jealous… although I think he already is.”

Confusion flooded her features as she peered up at him.

“Oh, come on! He was ready to rip my head off when he realized I’d grabbed your hand. And when I put my arm around you? I thought I might be better off just giving you my jacket and freezing to death instead.”

“I don’t…” she shook her head in disbelief. It was one thing for her to be pretending to make Harry jealous in some delusional hope that it’d work. But this… this was a whole other thing.

“I’m actually quite interested to see what he does if I kissed you.”

She was shocked at first and then, possibly due to the alcohol, just as interested. “Are you asking my permission?”

“Are you saying yes?”

Y/N hesitated. “Is she back?”

Adam’s eyes scanned the room and Y/N realized he hadn’t asked to kiss her for Laura’s sake at all.

“She is.” He finally announced.

Without any more second guessing, Y/N’s hand slipped to the back of his neck and pulled him in. As soon as their lips collided and she tasted the alcohol on him, she knew that she’d never agreed to this without it. Or maybe she would. Adam spun them back around again, deepening the kiss as her eyes opened and fell into the direction she’d last seen Harry.

He was still there.

Still watching.

His hands in fists. His jaw tightened into a crisp line. His nostrils flared. His eyes… sad.

She pulled away. Adam steadied her, grabbing her shoulders when she swayed. But, as she caught her breath, the dizziness went away.

“I’m going to find the bathroom.” She told him and after he nodded, she left, forming a rift for herself through the bodies that danced all around them until she was in the clear. Then she was avoiding Harry as she walked past him, not so sure his gaze was still set on her. Maybe she’d gone too far. She didn’t often just kiss people for no good reason and that’s exactly what she’d just done with Adam. She barely even knew him.

She didn’t exactly need the bathroom, just an open, empty and quiet place. And so, she fell back against a wall in the foyer and ran a hand through her hair.

“That was quite the show.”

She startled at the sound of his familiar voice and looked up just as he stopped a few feet away from her. “What are you talking about?”

He lifted a brow. “You expect me to believe that that you, anti everything to do with this holiday and with relationships and romance, are actually dating that guy?”

“Is it that hard to believe?” She crossed her arms, willing to go as far as she needed to before she let Harry see the truth. That she was that pathetic.

“Yes.” He didn’t even hesitate to respond and she flinched.

“Well, I’m sorry that you have a hard time believing that someone may actually like me.” She had no reason to nearly be shouting at him and no reason to be saying what she was because Adam didn’t like her.

“That’s not what I said. It’s hard for me to believe you just dropped all your ideas about relationships for some guy with obnoxious blue eyes.”

“I didn’t.”

“So then what is this?”

Y/N hesitated. Hating that the truth was about to boil over out of her mouth for him to see all the embarrassing bits of it, but she had no other way of convincing him. And it didn’t really help that Adam was so far out of her league that it wasn’t even convincing to begin with. Nor did she want to convince Harry of anything either. It was clear now that he hadn’t been jealous, he was just trying to figure out when she stopped hating relationships so much.

And the truth of that was she never really hated them. It was just easier telling herself she didn’t want it than admitting no one ever actually wanted her.

She trembled, not even sure why, but he was making her incredibly nervous, so much that she wished she could rewind and stay squished next to him in the back of the car forever. Being that close to him... his stupid fingers on her thigh, whispering things in her ear that made her head spin. She’d much prefer that than standing in front of him now, seeing every ounce of judgment he was about to throw her way.

“What do you want me to say, Harry?” She shrugged and dropped her eyes to the white marble floors between them, focusing on calming her anxiety while she was no longer looking at him. “He needed a date and I felt bad for him.”

“What does that mean?”

Letting her head fall back against the wall, she stared up at the ceiling this time as her eyes burned with embarrassment. “He paid me to be his date so his ex-girlfriend didn’t find out he wasn’t actually seeing anyone. That’s what it means.”

Harry didn’t say anything.

“So, yeah.” She folded her arms, looking down at the floor again, still unable to meet Harry’s eyes and see the look that would be on his face. A smirk of amusement at her expense. Even probably his dimples, taunting her and turning her into the joke she already was. “You were right. I can’t find anyone to tolerate me, which is why I’m on this stupid date that isn’t even real.”

“Him kissing you seemed quite real to me.”

There was more exasperation than humor to her laugh. “It wasn’t.”

Harry seemed to finally understand. “He’s trying to make Laura jealous.”

Y/N just nodded. “I promise I didn’t know you were going to be there, that he was trying to get her back from you.”

“You still kissed him though.”

She couldn’t argue that, nor could she tell him the real reason she’d agreed to the kiss. That it wasn’t exactly Laura she was trying to make jealous. She’d never live that one down, if she ever managed to live any other aspect of this night down.

When she didn’t say anything, he stepped closer. “Why did you kiss him?”

“I’m sorry, Harry I just... I don’t know.”

He shook his head and took another step, making her eyes widen when he was close enough that she had to crane her head back to meet his gaze. “Seemed like you were trying to make me jealous.”

She swallowed, not exactly in the position to laugh it off and argue with him when he was this close and all she could feel were the traces of his fingertips on her thigh. Her voice was quiet when it finally came out. “Making you jealous would mean I assumed you liked me in the first place... which I’m definitely not stupid enough to assume.”

A crease formed between his brow and his stupidly perfect jaw hardened as if he was biting his tongue from saying something. And fuck him for choosing then to finally stop opening his mouth.

Just then, a pair of drunk guys, one on the other’s back, came racing through the foyer, screaming at the top of their lungs while a few others followed quickly after them. It was enough to force Harry away from Y/N again, enough for the both of them to step out of the little bubble they’d been in together the past ten minutes.

Once they were alone again, their eyes gravitated toward each other and just when she thought Harry might say something after all, he flipped around on his heel and left. And she watched as he turned the corner and mixed back into the party.

After a few moments to gather herself, she followed him, not exactly sure what she was going to do now that Harry wouldn’t talk to her and it felt weird being with Adam while Harry knew everything. But, whatever plans to keep herself occupied no longer matted when she spotted Laura.

Making out with Adam in the middle of the room.

Without even thinking, she turned to locate Harry and he might as well have been a source of gravity because her eyes fell right to him within a second. And he was watching them too. He knew.

He met Y/N’s eyes and she wasn’t quite sure if he was upset or not. She couldn’t really read anything on his face, and stopped attempting to when he moved towards her and she had other things on her mind, like where he was going and if he was going to bother taking her with him.

Shortly after he stormed past Y/N she made sure he wasn’t going to leave her behind and chased after him. She didn’t know Adam very well and definitely not Laura to want to stay with them. And everyone else in the room were complete strangers to her. Adam had promised he’d take her home, but he probably hadn’t expected to be making out with his ex by the end of the night, either.

Harry didn’t say anything, not even when they’d reached the foyer and Y/N asked where he was going. He just located his jacket and slipped it on before making his way out the front door.

And right when she thought he really was going to leave her behind, since she was the reason he’d just lost Laura to her ex, he held the door open and glanced over his shoulder at her while she still stood on the other side of the threshold.

“Are you staying?”

Without a word, she sprung into motion and trailed right behind him into the hallway like a lost puppy, letting the door shut behind her that cut them off from the music as it faded into the background behind them.

It was a silent trip down the elevator, mostly because she had no idea what to say that would sound sincere and he didn’t say anything at all. At least not until she followed him through the lobby until he stopped on the curb just outside the main doors.

She took up the spot next to him, eyes glued to the side of his face as he took in a deep breath of fresh air, or at least as fresh as traffic allowed it to be.

Then he spoke, and it seemed like the first time she’d heard his voice all night. “I’m the one who gave you the chocolates and the frog.”

She narrowed her eyes, both not exactly sure why he’d just said that or if he was even being serious. “What?”

He looked down at her. “It wasn’t Andrew, it was me.”

“Why?” She breathed and while she was positive she’d be freezing cold soon, the fresh air after being surrounded by so many people felt good. It felt freeing and she wondered if he felt that way too.

His eyes scanned hers before he looked away. “Well partly to apologize for what I said.”

“What’s the other part?”

Sighing, he turned his entire body to face her now. “Something else entirely…” He trailed off, only confusing her more as he stuffed his hands into his pockets and stared at his feet. “I didn’t tell you because I know you don’t like all this stuff, but seeing you with him tonight... I wish I had.”

“It’s not that big of a deal. It’s just a frog.”

He shook his head, grinning. “It’s not just a frog, Y/N... because the thing is,” he paused to catch his breath, “I’ve been in love with you for... a really long time… since last spring. But with you being the way that you are, I never thought you’d feel the same way.”

She opened her mouth and then closed it.

“And then you come in with that guy and...” He pulled his fingers through his hair. “I don’t think I’ve ever been more jealous in my life... because all this time I thought you weren’t interested in relationships, but you just weren’t interested in me.”

Inhaling, she summoned every ounce of courage she could fathom. “You were right about why I kissed Adam.” He lifted a brow, waiting for her elaboration which never came. “You were right about other things, too. I wish I had someone to come home to almost every single night I got to bed alone. No one—“ She cut herself off, trembling again as tears stung her eyes. “I pretend not to be interested so I can ignore the fact that no one’s ever wanted me.”

“That’s not true.” He had that same look on his face as before, when she’d told him she wasn’t stupid enough to think he liked her.

She just nodded. “And I’m sorry but... why would you want me when you could have someone like Laura?”

“Y/N...” He huffed and stepped closer to her, the heat from his body making her shiver. “This is not the first time I started seeing someone to get over you... in fact, all my relationships since I met you have been shit.”

“Why didn’t you just tell me?”

“Well you’re very anti-relationships so I think I was justified in wanting to avoid you rejecting me… especially since we work together and it would have been really awkward.”

“I don’t, uh... I...” She stammered, not really sure what to say to him even though her heart was screaming at her in full volume.

He held his breath and then, in almost a whisper, “Is this the inevitable rejection?”

“No.” She didn’t even hesitate that time and at this point, her mind no longer controlled the words coming out of her mouth as she let another organ finally speak for itself. “No, I liked you the second I saw you, Harry... and at no point tonight was I ever trying to make Laura jealous.”

The corners of his mouth began to curl into a smile. “That was very cruel of you to do to me.”

“I didn’t think you liked me at all twenty minutes ago, Harry.”

“Twenty minutes ago,” he fully invaded all of her space now, leaving the smallest gap between their bodies as he could get away with, lifting his hand to her jaw and rubbing his thumb over her cheek. “I was still on this date with the wrong person.”

“I think the date is over now.”

“No,” his eyes fell to her lips just like they had before. “It’s not.”

“You’re looking at me like that again.” She mumbled, out of breath.

He lifted a brow and didn’t once remove his eyes from her lips. “Like what?”

“Like…” she trailed off, not having the courage to say it in case she wasn’t right.

“Like I’ve wanted to kiss you for a very long time and I’m tired of pretending?”

“Something like that, yeah.”

He grinned, both of his dimples making an appearance just before he leaned in and brushed his lips against hers. And once her brain realized what was happening, she sunk right into him, letting his arm wrap around her waist as his other hand tangled its way into her hair to bring her closer. She threw her arms over his shoulders and he hunched lower to meet her. She staggered back a step when he did, nearly losing her balance but he caught her instantly and then drew his lips back as he laughed.

“This is not how I expected tonight to end.” She couldn’t help but think the way he struggled to catch his breath was possibly the hottest he’d ever been. Not to mention the tiny bit of her lipstick smeared on his face. She could look at him just the way he was right there and then for days and be perfectly satisfied.

“It doesn’t have to end yet.” She fully blamed her sudden burst of confidence on the cold, but refreshing February night. And maybe she also just wanted to get out of it before it caught up to her and she would, yet again, regret not having a jacket.

“Oh?” She wanted to smack the mischievous smirk off his face and leave him there on the curb. “And here I thought you were a prude.”

“You thought a lot of things about me that weren’t true, Harry.”

He thought about that for a moment and after realizing she was right, he then wondered just how wrong he was when he’d called her celibate. “I suppose… I’d quite like to find out just how wrong I was.” He slipped a loose strand of her hair back behind her ear, which is where his lips ended up as he whispered softly, “And I’d also quite like to show you just how wrong you were about me not liking you.”

They stumbled into her bedroom in the dark, Pretzel racing out between their twisted feet in a hurry, screeching at them in the process. Harry giggled against her lips, “Your cat sounds friendly.”

“Well, since I was supposed to be spending tonight with her, and chocolate, and anti-romantic movies…” She pulled away from him, watching as his smile spread further. Maybe she could actually believe he’d been in love all this time.

“Right… I’d be upset too.”

She shook her head and kissed him again, then pulled back a second later. “You know that’s not actually what I do on Valentine’s Day.”

He lifted a brow and waited for her to explain but she didn’t.

“And what is it that you do, then?” He finally asked, curiosity getting the best of him, although he had some inkling as to what she was talking about.

Her smile was devoid of innocence as her hands fell to his belt. Harry’s shirt had already been lost to the kitchen floor. Her dress hardly covering what it was supposed to once Harry had gotten his hands on it.

“Maybe you’ll get to find out.”

When she brought her lips back to his, after undoing the buckle just under his navel, he spun them around and led her backwards to the bed. He wasn’t sure how far it was, but hoped he was headed in the right direction. And because of that, when her knees did finally bend over the mattress, he practically came flying down on top of her.

She squirmed out from under him, crawling back towards the pillows as she watched him at the end of the bed while he stood and removed his belt completely, trying not to drool at the sight of him. At the sight of Harry, her fucking annoying ass, perfect, beautiful, coworker standing shirtless at the end of her bed where he was also about to be…

He pushed his trousers down off his hips and they fell to the floor with ease, almost with the same amount of ease that her eyes fell to the tight boxer-briefs he wore underneath. She swallowed as he adjusted the waistband back into place, quite certain that, even in the low light, her eyes were not deceiving her.

The bed shifted at her feet as he joined her, and then it took all her willpower to not fling herself at him as he crawled up the length of her. As he settled himself between her thighs and she felt every last, very hard, inch of him pressed against her. She couldn’t be blamed for the whining moan that she let out in his ear as his lips became familiar with the shape and taste of her neck. She also couldn’t be blamed when her hips instinctively collided with his.

He just giggled again and shook his head, the loose strands of his curls tickling her forehead. “Easy now.” He warned in a hushed mumble, his lips vibrating right against the vein in her neck that pulsed so much faster the more his free hand began to wander up underneath her dress.

He left her speechless for multiple reasons, but the main one was when she felt his fingers tracing down her thigh and then, moments later, after he shifted his weight and used his knees to keep her legs open, she sucked in a breath of air as she felt him pressed against her clit, forcing her nails to dig into his back but he didn’t seem to mind.

Coming back down to kiss her, he began moving his hand in expert little circles, grinning against her mouth every time her body begged him for more. It wasn’t long that he complied, either, when he sat back on his knees between her legs and tugged her underwear off for good, throwing it to the depths of her bedroom floor. He wouldn’t have known where they landed even if he tried because his gaze belong to her only as he lowered himself to his elbows before her, kissing his way up her thighs until he reached her center.

When she squirmed away from him, he wrapped his arms around her thighs and pressed his hands into her hips after gently moving her dress out of the way.

“You know when we used to stay late at the office working?” He asked suddenly and the heat of his voice against her made her squirm again, but he held on tight. “And you would get sick of sitting in an office chair and made me promise not to tell Jim when you sat on his desk instead?” She had no clue where he was going with it, but still, she nodded. “Every single time I turned to look at you, I thought about doing this.” Before she could get words out or even a coherent thought, she felt his tongue on her. And this time when she jerked against him, she nearly slipped out of his hold until he grabbed her again and pulled her back down, digging himself further into her as she struggled to breathe properly.

She dug her fingers into his hair when he brought her close to the edge and showed no mercy. And somehow, she’d managed to get the sole of her foot up onto his shoulder in order to kick him away, but it didn’t matter much because he never budged. Not that she wanted him to, but he just felt so good…

“Harry!” She shouted, pulling at his hair and making matters worse for herself when he moaned against her sensitive bundle of nerves. He let her come, never once lifting his mouth from her even as her hips jerked off the mattress and she very nearly pulled his hair out. When she stopped screaming, her voice caught in her throat because she was lost to her own orgasm, is when he lifted his mouth, replaced it with his fingers and watched her as she came down. As her eyes fluttered shut and her chest heaved, her lungs struggling to get oxygen back into her system. Her hold on him loosened as she came undone around him, melting into his hands it seemed like.

And when he began rubbing his index and middle finger into her, once she was far and beyond overstimulated, and he knew that, she reached down with a whine and grabbed his wrist with what little strength she had in her and pulled him away. His hand fell to the other side of her hip, which he used to his advantage to pull himself up over her again, his other hand taking her dress with it until he was able to tug it over her head and toss it. Then he came back down to kiss her, letting her taste herself on her lips. He rubbed his thumb across her cheek and when he pulled away, found her looking at him finally. Although it was with heavy lids as she still struggled to regain her bearings.

Before they could get much further, a loud crashing sound from the other room made both of them nearly jump out of their skin. She shot up instantly, grabbing hold of Harry’s bicep before moving him out of the way and sliding off the edge of the bed.

“It’s just the cat.” Harry would have probably said the same thing even if it was not just the cat, he’d say anything just to get her to stay with him.

“I know but it sounded like…” her voice trailed off as her feet hit the floor and the moment she went to stand on her own two legs, her knees buckled. He reached to grab her waist but she righted herself before he could. She didn’t see the way he hid his cheeky smirk at the fact that he’d been so good, she was still dizzy.

“You good?” He asked as she stumbled her way into a shirt. With only a groan in response, and what he was sure was her middle finger, she left him alone in her bed to investigate the noise. Sighing, he laid on his back and got comfortable amongst her pillows. And after about three minutes, decided to locate the remote to her TV to entertain himself.

He flipped onto his side and felt around her bedside table, but his fingers never landed on anything remote-like. So, frustrated, he reached up and switched the lamp on. Again, he found nothing. Looking further, he realized the table had a drawer and so he pulled it open in hopes of finding the damned remote before she got back.

But what he found instead was so much better than turning on late night news.

“Fucking cat knocked over my vase.” Y/N was back within ten minutes. Harry had left the light on, but made sure it wasn’t obvious he’d gone snooping into her drawer, at least not yet anyway. She crawled back into bed beside him and it was then he noticed the bandage on her thumb.

“Are you alright?” He forgot all about what he planned to tease her with when he gently grabbed her hand to inspect the damage.

“Yeah. I was in a bit of hurry trying to clean up the glass…”

Harry rolled his eyes and dropped her hand. “I would have come help you.”

She just smiled up at him as he fit his arm around her shoulders, his bicep under her neck. “That’s alright.”

He shrugged. “It was for the best anyways that I didn’t.” When he smirked, she narrowed her eyes suspiciously at him.

“And why’s that?”

She followed his other hand as he reached for something and then, moments later, it reappeared with a very familiar pink object clutched in his grasp. “Because then I wouldn’t have found this.”

Her first reaction was to pry it from his snooping fingers, but when she reached across him to grab it, he way too easily held her back and, at the same time, held it far out of her reach.

“So this is what you do on Valentine’s Day, then?” He flicked his wrist back and forth, waving her vibrator in the air as he taunted her.

“If you don’t give that back to me,” she reached for it again to no prevail, “you won’t be doing anything, least of all, me.”

He clicked his tongue. “Why would I give it back when I plan on using it?”

She froze and he chuckled at her reaction.

“Would be rude of me to break your traditions, wouldn’t it?”

She swallowed, her eyes slowly meeting his again. The appearance of his right dimple told her he wasn’t playing any games. She had no idea how many times he planned to make her come tonight or whether or not she’d even be able to walk tomorrow at work. But, given the stupid look on his face, she almost began making plans to call out sick instead.

“Do you actually know how to use that thing?” She finally asked, glancing at the wand still held very firmly in his hand.

He looked at her like she was crazy moments before he pivoted and pinned her onto her back, settling himself into the position they’d been in before the interruption of the cat.

Just, this time… he was clicking on her vibrator and watching her face as she began to regret her words.

“‘Course I know how to use it. The real question is,” he brought his lips to her ear, the soft vibrations and the sound of his voice mixing together like sin itself. Even more so when he nipped at her earlobe. “Do you know how to handle it?”

#1dffvalentine #harry styles fic #harry styles smut #harry styles x reader #harry styles writing #harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine

1K notes · View notes

inevitably-johnlocked · 3 years

Note

Quick question sorry if this has been asked before: do you know any Johnlock fanfic where they’re extremely sensual? Like not just making love but just super methodically drawn out and slow and sweet?

Hi Nonny!!

Ahh, because of this ask, I went through my bookmarks to see if I have any listed with “sensuality” so that’s what this list is!! It definitely doesn’t have all of my fics because I have to go back through them and tag them, but in the meantime, enjoy what I started tagging a few months ago when you sent me this ask, LOL <3

As always, add your own fics here, Lovelies!!

SENSUALITY

See also:

Emotional Love Making || [MOBILE POST]

Emotional Love Making Pt. 2

Loved. by inevitably_johnlocked (G, 1,231 w., 1 Ch. || First Sherlock POV, Slice of Life, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Nose Kisses, Morning After, Love Confessions, Morning Cuddles, Emotional Sherlock, Sentiment, Bed Sharing) – Sherlock reflects on his relationship with John. Part 5 of I-J's Tumblr Ficlet Collection

Morning Sunlight by slashscribe (E, 3,565 w., 1 Ch. || PWP, Morning Sex, Fluff, PWP, Established Rel., Soft Idiots) – A thin band of soft morning light peeks between the curtains and stretches across John’s torso, laying dormant across his forearm, dipping into the space between his arm and his chest, illuminating his right nipple but just brushing the edge of his left, disappearing into his armpit, and reappearing again right over Sherlock’s eyes where his head rests, nestled against John’s shoulder. Sherlock is not annoyed by the light’s intrusion on his sleep, not when it rests so soft and tantalizing on John’s skin, a work of unintentionally erotic art. A PWP with so much emotion.

Living Musical by VeeTheRee (G, 4,149 w. 1 Ch. || Est. Rel., Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Hobbies, Summer, Song Fic, POV Sherlock, Painting, Play Fighting, Soft Sherlock, Dancing, Love Declarations, Hair Petting, Promise of Forever) – A one-shot of John and Sherlock being domestic during summer. There is paint, fluff, and music from Imagine Dragons, namely from the album 'Speak To Me', specific song in this one-shot is 'Living Musical'. Part 1 of the Happy Fluffy Johnlock Time series

London Gods by a_different_equation (E, 11,092 w., 5 Ch. || American Gods Fusion || Magical Realism, Sex Magic, True Love, PTSD John, First Kiss/Time, Marathon Sex, Sensuality, Genie Sherlock, Human John, Internalized Homophobia, Star-Crossed Lovers, Soul Mates) – Sherlock Holmes is a jinn who does not grant wishes. However, when Dr. John H. Watson, recently returned from the war in Afghanistan, gets into his cab by "accident", it might not even need magic to grant both men their deepest wish: love.

To be loved by Strange_johnlock (E, 12,436 w., 8 Ch. || Post S3, Established Relationship, First Person POV Sherlock, Pet Names, Soft Sherlock, Mild ADHD, Protective John, Captain Watson, Body Appreciation, Bottomlock, Rough Sex, Travelling for Holidays, Introspection, Sherlock Loves John So Much It Hurts) – John is so deeply integrated into the work, both as my conductor of light, and as a great shot with a vicious right hook who tackles men -and women- no matter their size all in my defense. He protects me with all he can without question, and this loyalty is surely more than I deserve. Or: Sherlock is counting his blessings.

The Invocation of Saint Margaret by Ewebie (E, 15,831 w., 1 Ch. || POV John, Crossing Timelines, Light Angst, Fluff, Series 3 John / Series 1 Sherlock, The Matchbox, Mushy Romance, First Time, Bisexual John, Pining John, Bottomlock, Love Confessions, Sensuality, Emotional Love Making, Snippets of Time) – When Sherlock Holmes opens the matchbox from The Sign of Three and John finds himself years in the past, back to that first dinner at Angelo's with a much younger Sherlock Holmes. Is he dreaming?

Permanent Fixture by vitruvianwatson (E, 18,836 w., 9 Ch. || Post-S4, Parentlock, Slow Build, Friends to Lovers, They’re Good Parents, Blushing Sherlock, First Kiss/Time, Explicit Consent, Sexual Content, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Mutual Pining, Big Feelings, Crying, First Kiss, Fluff, Anxious Sherlock, Inexperienced Sherlock, Emotional Communication, Love Confessions) – Now, as Rosie sat curled up against Sherlock’s side, John watched and wondered exactly how he had ended up here. Domesticity had never suited him before, not at any point in his life. His disastrous marriage had been proof of that. But somehow, here in the warmth and safety of 221B Baker Street, here with Sherlock Holmes reading medical jargon to his daughter, Sherlock’s bony feet nudging against his leg, John couldn’t imagine anyplace that would make him happier.

Division by MrsNoggin (E, 19,542 w., 11 Ch. || Coffee Shop AU || First Kiss/Time, Fluff, Barista Sherlock, Clingy Sherlock, POV John, John’s Limp, Bed Sharing, Fluff, Sleepy Cuddles, Sensuality, Touching, Virgin Sherlock, Insecure John) – John likes mysteries. And every morning he dips into the local independent coffee bar with his newspaper and ponders another... one Sherlock Holmes.

Through the Clouds by Mazarin221b (E, 20,004 w., 6 Ch. || Retirement, Sussex, Bees, Home Improvement, First Time, Romance) – Sherlock takes a remarkably early retirement at 47, and convinces John that a change of pace would do them both good. They buy an old cottage on the South Downs, and exchange their nonstop life in Baker Street for quiet contemplation, bee studies, and book writing. They might go completely insane, but sometimes it takes stepping outside of the life you're living to find the life you want. Part 1 of Through The Clouds

How To Unfold a Heart by elwinglyre (E, 25,477 w., 7 Ch. || Post S4 Fix It, BAMF John, Mentioned Eurus, POV First Person Sherlock, Case Fic, Fluff, Slow Burn, Topping from the Bottom, 3 Yr Old Rosie, Introspection, Sexual Fantasies, John Worship, Ogling, Hand Holding, Kidnapping, Domesticity, Sherlock Whump, First Kiss/Time, Doctor John, Caring John, Soft Sherlock, Sensuality, Touching, Crying, Love Confessions, Anxious Sherlock, Rimming, Toplock, Fingering, Bossy Bottom John) – To Sherlock’s dismay, John’s return to Baker Street with Rosie is only temporary. Sherlock’s daily visits to Regent Park with John and Rosie illuminate his lost childhood memories and missed opportunities. But with each trip to the park, Sherlock also feels a growing sense of hope. That is until the past horrors return unexpectedly in a cryptic note folded in the shape of a heart. To decipher the message, Sherlock must uncover the nature of the hearts around him, including his own.

Lucifer's Gardens by ampersand_ch (E, 32,679 w., 12 Ch. || GERMAN VERSION || Romance, Friendship, Friends to Lovers, Murder, Poison / Drugging, Mystery, John Undercover, Academic Club, Therapy, Rituals, Jungian Archetypes, Doctors & Physicians, Grief/Mourning, Esotericism, Hospitals, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, John Falls In Love With Another Man, Jealous Sherlock, Crying, Doctor John, Hand Holding, First Kiss/Time, Mysticism, Hugging, Touching) – John goes undercover for an investigation as a favour to Lestrade in a village in Suffolk. The events surrounding the case awaken deep-seated fears in Sherlock. While John begins to come to a realisation of what he needs in Lucifer's Gardens, Sherlock tries to find a way to reach John – in more ways than one.

A Promise Made to Be Broken by PlantsAreNeat (E, 37,018 w., 7 Ch. || Fake Relationship, Pining, Slow Burn, RST, Eventual Relationship, POV Sherlock) – A young John makes an ‘if we’re still single at 40, we’ll get together’ pledge to a woman who ends up all wrong for him. She keeps reminding him of the promise, and won’t let go of it. John asks Sherlock to pose as his boyfriend at a family wedding, so as to dash her hopes permanently. Sherlock, who has at last acknowledged his feelings for John, reluctantly agrees despite knowing how painful it will be to ‘have’ John, but not keep him.

Gold Rush by ShirleyCarlton (E, 71,783 w., 17 Ch. || Post S3 / No Mary, Friends to Lovers, Mentions of Past Sexual Abuse, First Kiss, Case Fic, Slow Burn, Alternating POV, Switchlock, Angst with Happy Ending, Marriage Proposal, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Abduction, Anxious/Insecure Sherlock, Miscommunication, Emotional Lovemaking) – John has divorced Mary and pops round to 221B one evening to find Sherlock in the middle of a case. As Sherlock tries to find the identity of a young woman’s stalker, John realises he can no longer deny his feelings for Sherlock – which then, to their befuddlement, turn out to be mutual. Shy kisses and tentative embraces ensue. But will Sherlock be able to cast off a shadow from his past that he thinks might prevent John from wanting to stay?

Repairing the Broken Things by BakerTumblings (M, 75,252 w., 15 Ch. || S4 Compliant, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Medical Trauma, Hospitals, Big Brother Mycroft, Misunderstandings, Realizations, Severe Accident, John Whump, Pneumonia, Medical Procedures, Bed Sharing, First Time, Healing, Happy Ending) – "I'm calling today to notify you that there's been an accident."

Northwest Passage by Kryptaria (E, 95,157 w., 27 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Canadian AU || BAMF!John, Canadian John, PTSD, Anal / Oral Sex, Rimming, Emotional Hurt / Comfort, Drug Rehab, Falling in Love, Pining Sherlock, Love Confessions, Sherlock’s Violin, Panic Attacks, Switching, Anxious / Protective Sherlock, Hugs for Comfort, Suicide Mentions, Healing Each Other) – Seven years ago, Captain John Watson of the Canadian Forces Medical Service withdrew from society, seeking a simple, isolated life in the distant northern wilderness of Canada. Though he survives from one day to the next, he doesn't truly live until someone from his dark past calls in a favor and turns his world upside-down with the introduction of Sherlock Holmes." Part 1 of Tales from the Northwest

Against the Rest of the World by SilentAuror (E, 151,714 w., 20 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Post-TRF, Hiatus Fic, POV First Person Sherlock, Present Tense, First Kiss/Time, Big Brother Mycroft, Escaping from Capture, Soft Sherlock, Toplock, Insecurity, Infidelity, Travelling, Introspection, Pining Sherlock, Depression, Fantasies, Yearning for the Past, PTSD Sherlock, Suicidal Ideation) – Sherlock has been away from London for nine hundred and twelve days and counting, and has no idea what sort of reception to expect when he finally returns.

#steph replies #johnlock fic recs #my fic recs #sensuality #soft sherlock #soft john #Anonymous

151 notes · View notes

starsstruck · 4 years

Text

strange phenomena; part one.

what happens when we meet again? you and harry have barely seen each other in almost a year. two ex-lovers find themselves in the same snowy town by strange chance, both looking for something they can’t seem to figure out. cafe run-ins, old love letters, and bittersweet nostalgia.

pairing: harry x reader warnings: language, slight mention of sexual content words: 13.3k

series masterlist

an: thank you for being patient with me. this is just a little story from my little heart shaped brain. thank you to @sunflowers-styles for beta-ing and being supportive and the overall best 💌 i hope everyone enjoys and please do let me know what you think ! happy reading xoxo 💌

There was something unsettling about not having a schedule.

Your entire life, you had been told that you weren't supposed to quit a job without having another one already lined up, and you had been able to keep up with that. Until now.

The impulse to leave the office that left you frustrated, tired, and overworked had been bubbling up inside of you for years, and it was only a mere couple months ago that you finally snapped.

Snapped, grabbed your things, and quite literally ran away. Call it a life crisis, maybe considered somewhere between a quarter and a mid, but there was something about simply leaving everything behind that took a temporary weight off your shoulders.

Which is how you ended up in a little town in eastern France, staring out the window of the café where you sat and watched the snowfall that had just picked up again.

There was an emptied mug on your side, crumbs of a delicious pastry sitting on a plate, and a blank page in your worn notebook. You had everything you needed to work: your favourite playlist softly playing in your ears so you wouldn’t get too distracted by conversations around you, not one but two notebooks filled with a year's worth of thoughts, and warm clothes that wouldn’t leave you with indents in your skin after sitting for too long.

But apparently that didn’t necessarily mean that you would be making much progress.

Five days since you had gotten to Annecy. A friend of yours had moved out to the old tourist town a number of years ago after meeting her partner, and they were nice enough to let you stay with them. Five days of trying to work and still no progress.

You had daydreams of sitting down, words easily flowing as you would fill pages until the sun set. But it was only five days, a little leeway was okay, wasn’t it?

That idea of a bit of little leeway, however, was constantly being bullied by the big label of unemployed. You knew very well, soon the need for a job would be coming back and all those daydreams would have to go back on a hiatus.

But here on the fifth day, after picking at the crumbs of your long gone croissant, you decided to pack up your things and call it a day. That was the one thing you were able to do – tell yourself that today nothing would be done and that was okay, instead of spending the rest of the hours until midnight forcing yourself to do something.

So you buttoned up your wool coat, wrapped on your scarf and stepped out into the light snow to trudge back to your temporary housing.

Harry had seen you the second time you were there.

You were a creature of habit - just as he was apparently so - and you seemed to always return to the same café, the small but warm La buvette du marché, tucked away in the old town.

He nearly fell over his feet when he saw you sitting in the corner, earbuds in and eyebrows furrowed so deeply he could see the creases in your skin, even from the distance he stood away from you.

He left in a hurry, in a panic. He told himself that he had likely imagined it, maybe he was still jet-lagged, maybe his mind was tricking him, maybe it was some odd lucid dream during an afternoon nap.

But then he saw you again, on the fifth day as you packed up your things in a huff and hugged your coat tighter around your chest. You looked too wrapped up in your own thoughts to even notice anyone else around you, except for the quick smile that you shot to the older woman behind the counter before you were walking out into the darkening street.

Harry couldn’t help but slightly spiral a bit more. He tried to recall any mention from remaining mutual friends, or even acquaintances, about you coming here, but couldn’t remember. He even considered calling some, but decided against it in a quick grounding moment when he realized that it would seem far too odd.

Even more so, he couldn’t believe that you found yourself in the small town at the same time as him. In the same place. At the same time.

It was all too familiar.

He took that as a good sign.

The seventh day – now a week in – you were back at the café.

This time you had managed to scribble down some ideas. Last night you had barely slept, tossing and turning as you tried to force your brain to come up with something, anything.

Just as it always went, as you were falling asleep it seemed like you had an idea going but unconsciousness soon took over and you were left with bits and pieces to pick up.

Today, you hadn’t gotten something to eat right away and instead told yourself that once you got a good chunk of work done, you would treat yourself to something sweet and a little break.

Harry, by not so much of a coincidence, was also back.

He liked the small town of Annecy, winter was a bit of an off season no matter its proximity to the Alps, and it was lowkey enough to where he could easily keep a low profile and go as he pleased.

He walked over to the same café in the late afternoon, hoping that maybe maybe you would already be there. It was making him nervous. But maybe you wouldn’t be there, and that would stress him out even more because maybe this was all a dream?

But there you were, twirling a black pen between your fingertips as you subconsciously chewed at the inside of your lip. He could tell by the way your chin was slightly protruding, and the way your lips moved lightly. He almost hated himself for being able to notice such a thing.

This time, you were the one to look up at him.

And lucky for him, or maybe unlucky he wasn’t sure yet, he was already staring back at you.

He could see a flurry of thoughts filter through your eyes. Your eyebrows unknotted for a moment, before furrowing even tighter this time with your mouth slightly parting and then closing.

He tried to smile, finding himself shuffling closer to you as he tried to recall how to use his feet and his voice. Calming down just the slightest bit when you offered him a tiny wave, he took that as all he needed to keep walking the path that led to your table.

And then he was standing a mere few feet in front of you.

When you spoke, it made it all that more real for Harry.

Obviously, you were physically there in front of him, something he couldn’t have imagined happening to him now, but the quiet “hi” that escaped past your lips made blood rush to his ears.

He cleared his throat – he didn’t really need to, he just felt he could use the extra second – before repeating the greeting back to you. “Hey…”

You couldn’t break his gaze. Seeing – and hearing – the hesitation in him, you almost wanted to tell him to leave you alone and try and forget this had ever happened. Maybe leave for some place else.

But you really didn’t want to do that.

“What,” the word was a puff of air. He felt out of breath. “What are you doing here?”

What were you doing here?

“Working,” was all you said, wincing slightly at the way the statement sounded. You felt like your heart was about to explode, like all words seemed to escape you and that the floor was about to crack open and swallow you up.

He only stared at you.

You sat up straighter, lifting a hand from where it was resting on the table to motion to the empty chair across from you. “You can have a seat – if you’d like.”

It was like he was on a three second lag, staring at you for a moment too long before reacting to your words. With a quick nod, he sat himself down across from you, bag falling to the floor near where yours was. He kept his coat on.

“Nellie’s really letting you work from here?”

You didn’t miss the slight pettiness of his words.

Shaking your head, you decided to ignore it and instead rolled your lips into your mouth before glancing back up at him. “No, I uh – I quit.”

His eyebrows shot up so quickly, the sudden change in his expression nearly made you flinch. He quietly kept his eyes on you for a moment longer, as if you were about to tell him that you were joking.

“You did?” He finally said, and if you paid close attention, which of course you were, you could see a little quirk in his lips. “You really quit?”

Unable to help the small chuckle that left your mouth at his reaction, you felt the beginnings of a smile pulling at your lips. “Yeah,” you said softly. “I did.”

A smile was pulling at Harry’s mouth as well – you could tell that he was trying hard not to with the way his lips slightly pursed and he bit them together. But he couldn’t help it.

“Well,” he cleared his throat once more and leaned back in his chair, making himself more comfortable. “Good for you.”

Another silence came over the two of you. Your right hand was pinching the skin of your thigh through your trousers to ground yourself, to remind yourself that Harry was really sitting here in front of you. Out of anywhere he could be.

Everything about him was so familiar. You recognized his coat, the dark green that you knew was so warm to be wrapped up in. His hair looked longer since the last time he was in front of you, but it also sat slightly messy and unstyled over his head. He was nervously twisting the few rings on his fingers – most of his fingers were bare which was something you hadn’t seen in a while.

Even the way he watched you, his steady stare that seemed to speak to you without needing to say any words, left you to be speechless.

Of course, you had thought about this moment over in your head countless times.

You fantasized about him showing up at your door, late at night and begging you to talk to him. You thought about running into him when you were out for errands, and would ignore him altogether. You thought about him calling you or what would happen if you called him, what you would talk about and everything he’d tell you. You had dreamt of everything that could possibly happen, but now you sat frozen.

��So uh,” Harry’s voice broke you out of your reverie. “If you quit, where aboust are you working now?”

You bit your lips together. “I’m not…working anywhere. Working for myself, I guess.”

He gave you a surprised look once more. “Writing?”

You only nodded, unable to help the smile that was building on your mouth. And Harry couldn’t help but mirror it.

He took a moment to take you in, closer this time. You were dressed warmly, a thick purple sweater hanging off your shoulders that hit fairly low on your hips, over loose black trousers. The lavender made you glow – he decided it was his new favourite colour on you.

You had a different pendant hanging off your neck, and he could see a second chain hidden beneath the collar of your sweater. A series of pens were in front of you, and he knew that you had been toying with them based on how they were haphazardly thrown over the tabletop. You kept slipping in your bottom lip between your teeth, something he couldn’t help but watch as every time it brought his attention back to your mouth.

He shouldn’t be thinking about your mouth.

“That’s great to hear,” he nodded after another moment too long in silence. “I mean, you know I’ve said this before so I’m not going to say it again but –” he cut himself off, already finding himself rambling. “It’s good. I’m glad that you’re doing it.”

You chuckled again, and he felt himself melt a bit deeper into the chair across from you. “I’ve really barely started but. Thank you, Harry.”

It was the first time he’d heard you say his name in so long. He liked hearing it, he missed hearing it.

“’Course,” was all he said. “I’m happy to hear that you’re writing.”

Another silence when you simply nodded.

“Why did you come here?” He spoke softly, the somewhat elephant in the room getting aired as you briefly averted his gaze.

“Wanted to get away,” you said honestly. “And Eloise offered for me to live with her for a bit, so it was an easy decision.”

“Easy,” he mused, repeating the word as he momentarily pulled at the sleeves of his sweater. “Taking some time to relax?”

“Something like that,” you paused, thinking of how to ask him the same thing. “How about you – are you passing through or…?”

He lightly shook his head, drumming his fingertips over his thigh. “I’m here for some time.”

“Oh,” you closed the notebook in front of you, leaning your forearm over it. You opened your mouth to say something else, but you seemed to not remember how to form words. He jumped back in.

“I’m here writing as well actually – or trying to.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Album?”

“Yeah,” he rubbed his hand over the back of his neck, leaning forward in the chair again to rest his forearms over the tabletop, similar position that you were sitting in as you both lent forward. “Been trying to get it done for far too long now.”

You remembered – you remembered in your last weeks together his frustration over his inability to be happy with what he was creating for his third album. You held your lips closed with your teeth for a moment, unsure of which thread to follow. He continued once again after you didn’t say anything.

“I’m here alone,” he paused. “Staying in a small place just outside of town.”

You couldn’t help the quiet scoff. “You’re never alone.”

He laughed to himself. “I am this time.”

You both felt like you were circling around the same thing. You were the first one to voice it. “So you decided to come… here. To Annecy.”

He looked at you dead in the eyes, as if challenging you. “Yeah, I did.”

Another silence fell, this one seeming to be heavier than all the other one’s combined.

“It was –” Harry finally broke the silence after what seemed like ten minutes. You wished your brain was working at the moment. “It’s really nice seeing you.”

You gave him a gentle smile. “You too.”

He tucked his feet under his chair, ready to push back from the table and stand. He was ready to leave the café, think about this moment every hour of the days to come until he managed to let it go. If that’s what you wanted.

But you didn’t.

“I’ll leave you to it. I don’t want to keep you from your work for too long,” he sounded nearly remorseful as he blindly reached for his bag at the floor, not wanting to look away from you.

“Wait –” you said way too quickly, but you didn’t care. “Stay – if you want.”

He paused every movement he was making, glancing up at you with a growing grin. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, familiar warm feeling spreading through your chest when his expression eased. “We barely caught up.”

Harry slowly leant back into the chair, nodding with a hint of a smile playing at his lips. “Okay – I’d like that.”

He unzipped his jacket then, resting it on the back of his chair and pushed the sleeves of his sweater up over his elbows. Leaning forward again, this time not to stand but to take a peek at the mug sitting in front of you.

“Did you want another?”

“Still working on this one,” you smiled in thanks, grabbing the cup with the lukewarm coffee to take a little sip.

Harry quickly had his own coffee in front of him, clutching the little mug in his hands as if it would act as some kind of buffer between the two of you.

“I hope you stormed out of that office,” he told you, after once more asking if you had seriously quit your job.

“Wasn’t that dramatic, unfortunately,” you laughed, also wishing that you had the guts to cause a scene and walk out of work. “I gave my notice, had a very civil last chat with Nellie and that was really it. Can’t really afford to burn any bridges.”

Harry didn’t want to comment too much on your recent unemployment, the emotionally exhausting nature of your previous job being a hot topic of conversation when the two of you had been together. He decided it was best to bring up at a later time, if he had the opportunity that is.

“What are you working on now, then?”

You mindlessly picked up a forgotten pen, twirling it between your index and middle finger a few times before letting it fall back down. “What I’ve always said I would.”

“Book?”

You shrugged, not wanting to think about the implications too much. “Something like that.”

He wanted to ask you about it further, but you easily changed the subject. “How long have you been here then?”

“Just over a week now,” he took another sip of his coffee. “And you?”

“A week,” you tried your hardest to stop the way your lips started to curve upwards, at the fact that you had both come around the same time. He seemed to be thinking the same thing, as a little nervous chuckle escaped his mouth. “How is the album coming?”

His laughter died down. “Not well,” he said honestly. “Nothing really since…” Nothing really since we were last together.

You nodded, knowing what he was about to say. “Keeping myself busy - I was actually filming for a movie the last few months.”

“I read that,” you nodded, not realizing you were admitting to slightly keeping up with what your ex was up to.

Another silence came across the two of you when you both took big sips of your drinks, you finished off the rest of the now cold coffee that had completely lost its charm.

“You look good,” your voice came out a little quieter. “Rested.”

You swear you saw a little pink hit his cheeks. “Thank you,” he hummed in response, having a thousand compliments ready for you but none of them found their way past his lips. “Are you allowed to tell me I look good?”

It was a cheap shot, but he took it.

You paused, a small smile pulling at your mouth. “Friends can compliment each other, no?”

Friends.

“Of course,” he hid his expression behind the mug that he raised to his mouth. “In that case - you look good - incredible even.”

He added the second part on a whim, still staring you down as you refused to break his gaze, never one to back down from a subtle staring contest.

A small sliver of silence passed, before Harry cleared his throat.

“I hope I’m not keeping you,” he murmured, watching your hands fiddle with the pens that rested more or less untouched on the surface of the table.

“You’re not,” you shook your head. “I’ve barely gotten anything done either way. If anything, I’m distracting you.”

Harry bit his lips together. He was never one to complain about how much you distracted him. “You’re always a welcomed distraction,” he leant his forearms further over the table. “Not so much progress here either.”

“I have a hard time believing that,” you laughed lightly when Harry raised his eyebrows, giving you an incredulous look. “You were constantly writing. Never met anyone with so many filled notebooks.”

“I guess but I – I couldn’t make anything out of it, you know? I don’t know if you remember,” he glanced up as you gave him a little nod. How could you forget about any moment spent together.

“Still feel just as stuck.” His brows knotted, staring at the table for a few seconds before glancing back up at you. “Sorry, for unloading this on you.”

“No, no it’s okay,” you offered him a sympathetic smile. “It’s okay if it takes you a little longer – if it takes a few tries.”

He forgot how much comfort he could get from your smile. “Thank you,” he murmured. “Feels like I’ve exhausted everything – like there are no words left for me to write.”

You couldn’t help what you said next. You didn’t mean to make it about yourself, you didn’t mean to even say what you did. You simply could not help it.

“Ever write about me?”

Harry stared at you for a few seconds. “You seriously…” he trailed off, eyes slightly wide on you. You had an apology ready on the tip of your tongue when he spoke again. “Filled countless books about you.”

You knew he wrote to you, leaving you little love notes or poems in your home or hidden amongst your things for you to find. Sometimes romantic, sometimes a little more explicit. But for whatever reason, you never imagined him writing a song about you.

He kept speaking in your silence. “You can’t be that humble – you can’t believe that I would never even think about writing about you.”

You didn’t know what to say. “I guess …I don’t know.”

Maybe you had been more successful that you’d thought in pushing memories of him away.

“To be honest, I uh,” now he was the one finding himself at a loss of what to say. “I didn’t want to put out something that was so personally about you. Wanted to keep you to myself.”

He lifted his eyes from the table, meeting yours before quietly murmuring. “Still do.”

A thick silence settled this time. You watched every small twitch in his demeanor – the quick bite of his lip, the bob of his Adam’s apple, the way his eyes flicked around your face just as you were sure yours were doing right now.

And they were, he was analyzing you, making new notes of your every feature that he could see for the thousandth time. He finally broke the silence, his voice sounding so loud all of the sudden.

“Come see what I have written.”

It was less of a question. Whether showing you old writing was really the only intention of the invitation was lost on you - and on Harry as well - but neither pondered on it too much.

You hadn’t said anything right away, but he was already reaching back to grab his jacket that was resting over the back of the chair. Slowly, you mirrored his actions and quickly began to pack up the pens and journal that had sat untouched for a good part of an hour.

Once you both stood wrapped in your coats and scarfs, with bags pulled over your shoulders, he met your gaze once more. “You coming?”

“Yeah,” you offered him a tentative smile. You realized you were nervous. Sitting with him in a public café was one thing, but spending time with him alone? That was something completely different that you weren’t sure you were prepared for. “Are we walking?”

“If that’s alright,” Harry nodded. “Staying just up the hill.”

And then you were off, following him in the thickening coat of snow that covered the yet to be plowed streets. Walking side by side at a safe distance, the falling snow hit you from every angle as the wind seemed to be starting to pick up.

Hugging your arms around your chest, you walked in silence for most of the trip.

At one point you were trying to move out of the way for a group of young school kids that were walking by, speaking far too fast for you to catch any words of their french as they excitedly bounced through the snow. Your foot caught on a lift of the sidewalk that was buried under the snow, giving you a momentary loss of balance.

Harry, however, was quick to notice. He had his arm looping through yours before you even realized you were tripping, as he held you upright and close against his side.

He knew that you were watching him, he could feel your eyes burn into the side of his face but he kept his gaze forward. The small kink in his lips gave him away though, when instead of pulling away you cozied yourself a bit more into his side and kept your arm tightly looped with his.

The rest of the walk was spent like that as you both trudged up the hill, out of the hub of the old town and out to the residential area. He quietly led you to his temporary housing, pulling out his set of keys from the inner pocket of his jacket and undid the front door of the building.

Walking up only one flight of stairs, you were soon being ushered inside a nice little apartment that could only be described as a character home. It was neat and cozy, just eclectic enough with tiled kitchen walls and different patterned rugs.

It was exactly the kind of place you had stayed in last time you were here.

“Let me turn the heat up,” Harry muttered, as you both shook off the snow from your hats and hair, hanging up the dampened clothing before warming back up in the apartment.

“Something to drink?” He called from the wall where he was presumably adjusting the heat, as you curiously glanced around the space he was staying in.

“What’ve you got?”

You easily found the kitchen as it was right after the hall from the door. A couple cups sat in the sink but it was otherwise clean. Harry joined you, standing across from you as he went to grab something from the fridge.

“”Have some mulled wine ready to be heated,” he pulled out a thermos.

“That sounds good,” you spoke quietly as you watched him work around the kitchen, grabbing a saucepan to heat it up.

He seemed to be stalling – you supposed you were as well. You didn’t know what you were doing here with him. You saw two possible outcomes, maybe three, but you didn’t know which one you were the most okay with.

Harry felt as though he had either been far too quiet, or was rambling too much. He wanted to ask you everything and find out absolutely everything and anything that had been going on in your life in the past ten months. He needed to calm down.

He heated up the homemade spaced mix, adding in a generous amount of the red wine. After a little moment while you distracted yourself with texting Eloise, you saw him pour a generous amount into each mug before turning off the element on the stove.

He handed you one of the mugs – a painted yellow ceramic one – settling to lean back against the counter across from you while you gripped the handle of your cup.

You lightly blew on the smoke billowing out from the top, holding the mug out to him in a quiet cheers before each taking a sip.

It was still too hot, but you both seemed to be stalling from whatever was about to unfold and you took any chance to distract yourself that you could. The drink had been a good idea, and was already warming you up – probably both by the liquor and the temperature of the beverage

“Good?” Harry broke the silence, after swallowing another sip of the drink. He had one hand resting over the ledge of the counter, elbow bent with a relaxed shoulder while the other hand held the mug. You wondered if he really was relaxed or just appeared to be – you seemed to be having a hard time reading him at the moment.

“Really good,” you nodded, occupying your mouth with the beverage as you found yourself at a loss of what to say at the moment. “Thank you.”

Conversation seemed to be flowing so nicely in the café, but now it was like you had no idea how to be around each other.

Harry was nervous. When he made the offer to show you the countless unseen songs about you, he hadn’t really thought it through. It had seemed like the right thing to say, and he really did want to share that with you, but things were just so … uncertain.

He could tell, by the way you kept one arm crossed around your front with the other’s arm elbow perched to keep the mug by your lips, you were uneasy. He didn’t want you to be that way, he wanted you to be nothing but comfortable with him.

“So where is that writing you were bragging about?” Your smooth voice broke him out of his daze, as he lifted his eyes back up to see you peering at him from behind the mug.

Rolling his lips in against his teeth, the corners of his lips perked up both at the way you were looking at him and to mask the slight pit of nerves that suddenly appeared. “Give me a sec’”

Leaving his mug with you in the kitchen, he made his way to one of his bags where he knew was packed a series of old notebooks – all taken with him for any kind of inspiration.

Flipping through them, unable to help the way he suddenly grew anxious over the idea of showing these to you. Especially out of the blue. Especially after this sudden reunion.

Deciding what to show you and what not to, he triple checked that he had grabbed the right book before making his way back over to you. He found you exactly where you were previously, mug in one hand with the other holding your phone, quickly typing something with just one thumb.

At the sound of his footsteps, you placed your phone down on the counter and glanced up at your ex. Finding his place across from you in the kitchen, he extended the notebook out towards you. It was clearly worn in, little scribbles of words across the leatherbound cover.

You recognized it. From being perched over his lap, tucked in his bag, next to him on the nightstand. You knew it.

“This was from that winter – actually think I filled it the last time we were here.” His voice was low, nearly distant as he tried not to look at you.

He didn’t know why he was sharing this with you now – maybe he felt like he needed to prove something, maybe he just missed you.

Wordlessly, you grabbed the worn book from him and tentatively opened it in your palm. Glancing up at him, he was clearly nervous and doing his best not to watch you read his every thought about you.

His eyes were cast to the side, looking out the window as if watching the heavy snowfall. With his arms now crossed over his chest, the thick knit of the sweater he was wearing bunching under his arms, you realized he looked more than nervous, almost worried.

You wondered if this was all a terrible idea.

Having not realized that you were still watching the profile of his face, looking at the way his eyes flicked from the window and down to the untouched mug that sat still on the counter. He grabbed it in a hand, the soft clink of the rings he had on against the ceramic being the only sound in the room.

You were sure he could feel you watching him, so much confirmed when the next place his eyes moved to were your own. Neither of you spoke, instead watched each other closely from either side of the small kitchen.

His expression was practically unreadable to you, something that you didn’t encounter often. You briefly thought he was upset with you, before he muttered. “Going to make dinner, if you’d like to stick around for some.”

Slightly surprised by the offer, even though you realized that when he had invited you to trudge up the hill with him to read a few half finished songs that probably wasn’t the complete intention.

Nodding, you answered with a low “thank you,” as he turned his body around and left the kitchen, no doubt searching for something elsewhere and leaving you to read alone.

Finally flipping open the book to a random page, turning a few pages until it looked less like a mess of scribbles and you could pull out several coherent sentences.

You found a small date written at the top of the page, and realized that this had been right in the middle of your last vacation in Annecy together.

You had to read over every word three, four times, before your hands moved without thinking and you were flipping the page to find more. Laying the spine of the notebook down against the kitchen counter, you leant over above it, completely captivated.

It was all so overwhelmingly beautiful. You didn’t realize that a small puddle of tears was gathering on your waterline until you blinked, and a few of them escaped and slid over the tops of your cheeks. Maybe this hadn’t been a good idea.

It was everything you remembered about being with Harry. Everything you remembered about the last time you were together in the little French town. Every ‘I love you’, every stolen kiss, every touch and feeling shared. It had been the happiest you ever remembered being.

It took you months to forget, or maybe not forget but not think about. And in a flood of it all coming back, you couldn’t help the tears that seemed to come flooding out as well.

Shutting the notebook a bit too quickly, you remained in your hunched position as you sponged at your tears with the back of your hand, wiping them away the best you could. You hadn’t thought about the reality, that there was no possible way you’d be able to handle reading everything that Harry had to say about you.

“Done already?” Harry’s voice startled you, not having heard him rejoin you in the kitchen. You quickly blinked your eyes, knowing there was no possible way to hide the fact that you had been crying but you hoped it wasn’t too obvious.

“No, I –” you cleared your throat lightly, turning around to look at him. You didn’t know what to say to him.

You watched his eyes scan your face, expression softening slightly before offering you a small smile. You assumed the whites of your eyes were reddened, and the skin surrounding was damp and still shiny from the little spill of tears.

He didn’t ask you anything else, and instead grabbed a pot from where it sat cleaned next to the sink and brought it over to the stove. “Do you want to chop the vegetables?”

Nodding with a murmured agreement, he handed you what needed to be cut along with a cutting board and a knife. You were grateful that he glossed over the topic, and now you found yourself biting back a smile. Spending time with him in such a mundane way was comforting. He put on some music, a soft background song playing while you both started to cook in a smooth harmony.

Conversation was light. He asked how living with Eloise was, you asked how long he had been in town for.

It wasn’t until you were both sitting across from each other with steaming bowls of soup and warmed bread, each having poured a generous amount of wine into your glasses that conversation got a bit heavier.

It started when you asked if he had been out to the lake yet, even though the cold weather obviously meant swimming wasn’t much of an offer.

It ended, however, with a heavy silence when you both started to recall the last trip to the lake. Nearly a full year ago now, it was the second day of March and your last weekend away in this undisturbed paradise. The air was still very much crisp and carried a winter bite, and on a barely warm night, the two of you had the terrible idea of taking a little night dip.

After about thirty seconds in the cold water, you couldn’t bear it and had to step out into the even colder air. After shivering back to your rental, you had drawn a burning hot bath to enjoy together and both decided that you would come back during the summer months to fully benefit from the lake and hikes.

But then you weren’t together over the summer.

Harry had immediately noticed your change in demeanor at the bittersweet reminder of the memory, silently cursing himself for bringing the conversation that way. He had hoped that it would maybe spark something in you, some kind or romantic nostalgia, but instead it seemed to just upset you.

A crushing silence had fallen again, and at least you had dinner to distract yourself with. Harry instead decided to change the conversation again, asking if Eloise still had those two little grumpy cats, and if you were enjoying staying with them.

You were lightheartedly laughing again by the time you were clearing the dishes, both the wine and Harry helping in the warm feeling under your skin. Your cheeks had been rounded with a smile and your mind a bit fuzzy, intoxicated not as much by the liquor but more so by the loving feeling around you.

It was quiet when you came back to the rental outside of town, the tiles of the floor cold under your feet after you had peeled your socks off. The rain had only increased in your short trip out to the nearby Monoprix, picking up what you needed to make a nice hearty soup for dinner as well as a bottle of wine.

After getting far too wet on the walk you had gone on during the afternoon, initially wanting to go hiking but the weather got in the way. Harry had stuck back while you grabbed your groceries and a fresh baguette as you had finished off the one you had during breakfast.

Hanging up your damp coat and taking off your too itchy sweater, you called out Harry’s name after placing the groceries down on the counter of the little kitchenette.

A faint reply was heard, as you followed the sound of his voice to the closed bathroom door. He told you to come in, and you were met with a warm steamy bathroom and your partner relaxing into the back of the tub.

“Didn’t feel like a shower,” he murmured as you smiled down at him, eyeing over the bubbles that covered the surface of the water.

“Hi,” you whispered, leaning down to press your lips to his in a quick greeting as he extended his neck out towards you. “It’s still dreadful out - you have the right idea taking a bath.”

You sat down on the edge of the tub, feet flat on the tile of the washroom floor as your upper body twisted to gaze down at Harry. The weeks so far spent in the small French town were like taking a break from reality - time was still and you could spend all the time you wanted wrapped up in each other.

“Missed you,” he murmured, wet hand raising from under the water to grab at your wrist. Pulling it towards him, he pressed a light kiss over your pulse point. You let your hand fall over his shoulder when he let go, when he instead decided he wanted to feel your lips on his again.

You easily complied, bending lower once more to slot your mouth over his with a lingering touch as he sighed over you. “Lips are cold.”

You chuckled an apology, shifting yourself closer to him as you still balanced on the ledge of the tub. Your hand wrapped around his neck, feeling the damp strands between your fingers as one of his hands grabbed a light hold of your arm. He traced a pattern over your bare arm, before shifting his arm around to the small of your back.

You remained like that for a moment, sharing sweet kisses laced with soft affirmations of affection, hands not wandering further from light grasps over each other’s bodies.

Though at a sudden move, a not so light move, an unattractive squeal left your mouth when your boyfriend hooked a hand under your bent knees and gripped you firmly, pulling you over the edge of the tub and into the water with him. You giggled his name after recovering from the initial shock, the heat of the water a sharp contrast to the chill in your bones and the sudden movement had your head spinning just the slightest bit.

You surprisingly didn’t mind all that much – in fact you didn’t mind at all. Wet clothes could be dried, and the way he held you so tightly and gazed down at you so lovingly you didn’t even realize that you were fully dressed in the bathtub.

Harry held you tightly, your legs now resting over him with his arm still under your knees as you found your place in his lap.

“My clothes are all wet,” you bit your bottom lip down, eyes catching Harry’s with a gleam as you rested your cheek against his chest. You looped your arm tighter around him, easily supported against his frame. “Could’ve given me a little warning.”

“Thought you liked spontaneity,” his mouth sought out yours again, this time landing a peck just over your cupid's bow. “And you just seemed so cold.”

You laughed over him and he pulled you even closer, as the water seeped through your clothes. You lifted your upper body a bit, not minding the way your shirt clung to your body as you brought your other hand to graze along the top of his cheek. “Really missed you.”

“Wasn’t gone that long,” you whispered. “Picked up some more bread - the woman at the bakery recognized me.”

You could feel the hum from his chest before you heard it, as he stole another quick peck from your lips. “Becoming a true local, aren’t you?”

“Guess I am,” you mindlessly trailed your fingertips over his features, tracing the curve of his lips as he spoke.

There was a small pause, a quiet comfortable silence. “What d’you say we stay a little longer?”

You didn’t really need to think about the offer that much. “How much longer?”

Harry shrugged, although knowing you both had responsibilities that were eventually needed to go back to. “Maybe a few more weeks?”

“I’d love that,” you pressed your lips to his, knowing that you’d eventually work out the details later.

He muttered something against your mouth, something you couldn’t quite catch as he returned your kiss. His hands wandered under your shirt, quickly pulling the soaking material from your body and throwing it with a wet slap to the tiled floor. Another problem to be dealt with later.

Your lips parted as his tongue grazed over yours, a soft hitting of teeth when you tried to reposition yourself over him. His lips slid down your chin and your jaw as you brought your legs to straddle him, the growing uncomfortable heavy corduroy of your pants needing to be the next thing to be taken off.

A soft curse escaped your lips both at the feeling of your lover’s hands on you and at the cool air, when he tugged your bralette over your head and again threw it somewhere to be immediately forgotten. His hands cupped your breasts, warm and wet and pulling deliciously at your nipples while his mouth sucked over the sensitive skin of your neck.

“Help me get outta these,” you whispered into the air, one of your hands fumbling with the button and zipper of your trousers while you held onto him for support.

After much moving around – splashing water, and slipping over the smooth bottom of the tub – the heavy material was tugged off your legs and thrown over the edge of the tub. Finally feeling his skin completely against yours, you repositioned yourself over his lap with a leg on either side of his as your mouths met.

You sank into his arms as he whimpered your name, holding you tightly around your hips. One of his hands wandered lower, brushing lightly over your underwear covered heat.

You were both incredibly hot - from the water and from the increasing tension - as you blindly grabbed at each other in quick desperation.

Your hips pressed over his, while his lips were wandering over the damp exposed skin of your chest, and he moaned lowly against you, “love you close - love you everywhere.”

He raised his swollen mouth from your skin, pressing his words over your mouth. “Gonna spend the rest of my life with you like this.”

“You should stay the night.”

You turned your head towards Harry from where you were carrying over the stack of dishes. “What?”

“Snow hasn’t stopped,” he motioned to the closed window. “And it's getting late. Better idea for you to stay tonight.”

You only stared at him with your mouth slightly parted as if to speak, but didn’t know what to say. You figured that you hadn’t really thought this through, and it wasn’t completely crazy that it was a better idea to wait out the night out here with Harry.

“Not stay the night stay the night,” he continued, easily noticing the little lift in your lips.

“So it was only ever about the writing then?” The teasing tone in your voice was evident, though Harry couldn’t help the way his heart skipped at the possibility of you wanting to be here with him just as much as he wanted you.

“I think it’s always good to hold out some hope.” He answered, watching your eyes linger on him for a moment longer before glancing away with a small chuckle.

“I know you’re right,” you hummed, turning on the tap to begin washing the small load that needed to be done.

“About holding out hope or staying over?”

Biting your bottom lip between your teeth, you watched him approach you from the corner of your eye before answering. “Both.”

He tried his best to hide his smile when he joined your side by the sink, each settling in without much discussion of you as the washer of the dishes and him as the dryer. “So you’ll stay?”

You didn’t think about it too much. “I might need a shower,” you started, keeping your eyes on the soapy water that you pulled a ladle out of. “And to borrow some things.”

“Still have the same face cream,” his hip bumped yours – almost so lightly it could’ve just been him readjusting his feet. ”Welcome to anything you’d like, always are.”

This time it was obvious that it was on purpose. Not so much of a bump but a nudge, a slow one as he leaned his body closer to yours and rested against you for a brief second.

“I’ll hold you to that,” you said lightly as your agreement, trying not to think too much about sharing a bed with your ex.

The quiet that came when you worked through the dishes together didn’t last all that long before Harry asked.

“Been seeing anyone?”

You glanced at him briefly. A cheek was half lifted, the hints of a smirk forming on his lips as he eyed you.

“Why’re you asking?” You countered, the answer to the question obvious.

“Why do you think,” he let out a chuckle, although was unable to help but feel a little anxious at the answer to the question, especially in your silence.

“There was one,” you spoke slowly. “A friend set it up – a double date. Saw him one more time after and that was it.”

“That was it?” Harry repeated your words, clearly looking for more of an explanation.

“Haven’t seen him again,” you turned off the tap, wiping your hands on the dish cloth hanging off a hook before facing Harry. “And you?”

“Twice,” he said – if you were going to be honest so was he. “Different person each time.”

“Busy boy,” you mused, trying not to wonder how long after you split it had been, or how recently.

His smirk had died down, meeting your eyes earnestly. “Never saw either again. You're a hard one to get over.”

His words hit you hard in the chest, like a little stab of a knife deep and sharp. He had spoken lightly, but you didn’t miss the slight clipped tone of his voice.

“Did anything… happen with the guy?” He asked immediately after, not giving you much of a chance to react to his confession.

You only bit your bottom lip down, holding your mouth shut. The soft lights from above seemed like they had dimmed, the space around you feeling smaller and more intimate.

He took your silence as the answer, a pit of jealousy building at the mere thought of someone else's hands on you.

“Just a kiss,” you told him, barely able to recall the short end of date kiss shared between you and the man you hadn’t even thought about. “On the second date.”

Harry only hummed, arms crossing over his chest as he leant his hip against the counter. The dishes were nearly done and long forgotten by now.

“D’you wanna see him again?”

“Harry –”

“If you haven’t seen him since then it doesn’t sound that way,” he mused, cutting you off with his petty rambling. “Especially now that you’ve come here.”

“It wasn’t like that.”

“Wasn’t like what?” His tone was quiet, but as you looked up to see him again his eyes held something more, begging for your attention.

“I just wanted –” Stopping yourself, you couldn’t continue. I just wanted to stop thinking about you. Instead, you spoke a quiet “I don’t know.”

A heavy silence surrounded you for the millionth time that day. It had only been a few hours since you’d run into each other, since he’d invited you up and you’d easily agreed. You only looked away from him when his touch was felt over you, glancing down at the hand landing over yours on the counter, resting his palm over your knuckles.

His thumb softly brushed the skin. “Why did you come here?”

Harry couldn’t help but ask you again. He knew why he had come here, and he had a growing suspicion that you had come for the same reason – you were both just too stubborn to say anything.

“I told you, Eloise offered –”

“You could’ve gone anywhere though, I didn’t even know you were close with her.” Harry again, couldn’t help it.

You knew very well what he wanted to hear.

After a moment in silence, he spoke quietly and earnestly. “Did you miss us?”

You had to look away. You could feel his eyes burning into the side of your face, able to hear the heavy swallow in his throat before he spoke once more. “Did you miss me?”

You watched his hand lightly rest over yours, the way neither of you moved but once and a while there would be a small flinch or twitch of muscle as if the need to grab onto the other rested right below the surface.

“Of course I did,” his hand held yours a little tighter when you spoke. “We were good.”

“We were,” Harry repeated, quietly pondering on the past tense of the sentiment.

The decision to invite you up had been innocent at first, or so he wanted to tell himself that, but having you here with him was something he’d never thought to experience again. He asked you the same question once more. “Is that why you came here?”

Daring a few more steps towards you, the hand that was not over yours raised to brush its knuckles under your cheek, before grabbing a hold of your jaw. You were watching him closely, needing to swallow a thick gulp of air when he neared you.

Deciding not to answer him, as you both seemed to be aware of the true answer, you avoided the question entirely. “Is that why you came?”

You dropped your eyes down to his mouth when the corners of it quirked up, quickly looking back up to his eyes, almost hoping that he would avoid truly answering just as you had.

“It is, yeah.”

His earnestness shouldn’t have surprised you. You felt his words before you even processed them, momentarily reveling in your closeness. You were sure you were going to start crying again if he didn’t say anything else.

“Remember last time we were here,” Harry said, again quickly changing the subject. His hand that rested over yours moved up, sliding over the bare skin of your wrist before looping around to hold the counter behind you. Keeping himself impossibly close, he kept speaking at your nod. “Remember one of the first nights, in the park by the lake, the dancing, what was that called?”

“Bal musette,” you said without having to think about it all that much .

“Yeah,” his lips curved to a wider smile at the memory. “All the men wanted to dance with you.”

“They were all in their eighties,” you hummed, letting yourself lean into his touch over your cheek.

“Still,” he grinned. “We were good.”

You remembered the cool air, not quite spring yet but the ends of winter were apparent. Harry had held you close, he always did. It had been an evening of uncontrollable laughs, interlocked hands, and stumbling home in a rush. The late dinners, the indulgence in delicious chocolates, the walks by the lake; it was all too good. The entire time really, was a blissful month.

You knew it, you both knew it. Right now, neither of you could even remember what had led to a break up in the first place.

He was all around you, his arms keeping you in while the tip of his nose nudged your cheek and his face grew closer to yours. There was only a soft orange glow in the room, hitting off the top of his features in a way that drew you in. So close he became a blur to you, something you hadn’t experienced in nearly a year.

But it was when he tilted his chin down that you processed what he was about to do, that you let your head fall to the side in a quick move to avoid his kiss, only a brush of his cheek over your jaw being felt.

Harry let himself fall forward, his forehead landing on your shoulder as he let out a quiet chuckle into the crook of your neck. Neither of you moved from where you were, still standing pressed to one another with his chest pushing against yours and his arms on either side of you.

Moving your head back, you couldn’t help the breathless laugh that blew through your nose, not doubt tickling the skin of his neck.

“What was that,” you hummed quietly.

He tilted his head slightly, lips brushing over the skin of your neck. “Sorry,” he spoke, although he didn’t mean the apology all that much. He had wanted to kiss you; he still does. “Felt right.”

It was overwhelming, being close and personal with you once more. Harry moved his nose to the column of your neck, smelling the familiar comfort of the perfume that lingered on you.

“Felt right,” he repeated, voice muffled from his mouth resting over your neck. He didn’t miss the way you tilted your head again, this time not to avoid his touch but to allow more space along your neck as he pressed the lightest of touches onto the sensitive skin. “Didn’t it?”

He also didn’t miss the soft hitch in your throat, breath getting caught when he let his lips linger. Getting lost in you for a moment, when you lifted a hand to his shoulder, and wrapped your arm around him in a desire to keep him close. His lips pressed harder, parting to allow a quick lick of his tongue over the familiar skin. You sighed softly above him, feeling everything at once in a breathtaking moment.

But then you found your breath again, and spoke his name quietly before shifting away from him. “Harry –”

“I know-”

He sighed, a deep pull of air through his lungs when he pulled away from you. Just enough to meet your bewildered eyes, just enough that he could see every detail on your face without having them blur. “Let’s get to sleep, yeah?”

You only nodded, peering into his eyes as if it would help you read his mind. His gaze flickered away from yours, falling to the spot of floor between your feet before willing himself to move away from you. “We’ll feel better in the morning.”

You had no idea what he meant at all, but only watched him walk away from where he had just been. The quiet music that had still been playing was abruptly turned off, the lack of sound making the rapid beating of your heart that much louder. Taking a minute for yourself, you slowly followed him out of the kitchen.

“D’you mind if I shower?” Your voice sounded foreign to yourself, after an uncomfortable silence settled in the apartment.

“Go ahead,” his voice was distant, and you simply made your way to the washroom for a quick shower before likely not getting any sleep through the night.

Seeing the array of his toiletries laid out over the countertop was once more far too familiar, most of them being the same ones you had seen nearly everyday. Helping yourself to them since you were here for the night, you did your best to scrub off what makeup you had one before getting into the shower.

“Hey,” Harry’s voice suddenly invaded your senses, as he nudged the door open just as you were about to pull your sweater up over your head, hand stuck halfway up your chest.

Immediately dropping your hand back down as the knit fell back over your body, you saw Harry's eyes raise up to yours through the mirror. “Sorry,” he spoke quietly. “Just bringing you some clothes that you can sleep in.”

“Thank you,” you only looked at him through the mirror, watching as his eyes fell back down to where your hands were still holding your sweater by your hips.

Another moment too long passed with neither moving or saying anything, and just as you parted your lips to say anything, Harry cleared his throat. “I know, I know.”

He sighed, as if you had been about to scold him for lingering again and shut the bathroom door behind him, leaving you alone once more.

You showered as quickly as you could, washing your body and keeping your hair out of the water. You tried your best not to think about the way Harry’s eyes had slowly dragged over your body, even your sweater covered one. You tried not to think about the way he smelt the same, or the way his hands felt so good around you and the way he had wanted to kiss you. Or the way his lips felt so familiar over your neck, that if you hadn’t stopped him there might not be a wall separating the both of your right now.

And it didn’t get better when you came around the corner dressed in his clothes, sweats bunching at your ankles and the crewneck looking warm around you. You shot him a nervous smile from where he was already in bed, placing your belongings next to the bag you had on the floor, before turning back to glance at Harry.

“Well come on in,” he smiled, trying not to let his gaze linger on you for too long and lifted the corner of the duvet up on the other side of the mattress. With the sleeves of the crewneck pulled over your palms, you tentatively slid in on the bed, trying your best to maintain as much distance as you possibly could.

Harry turned off his phone, placing it on the table next to him before leaning over to shut off the only source of light.

You rested on your side, daring to face Harry as you hugged the pillow under your cheek. “It was a nice surprise seeing you today,” you started, not wanting to go to sleep on an awkward note.

He faced you when you spoke, mirroring your position from the other side of the mattress. “What are the odds that we both came back here,” he posed it less of a question, more as a quiet wondering. “Would never have thought -”

Humming in response, you didn’t know what the odds were really. Must have been pretty low, and the fact that you were both here and now found yourselves sharing a bed was not at all where you thought you’d end up when you got up this morning.

He turned from his side to his back, looking away from you and instead chose to stare up at the ceiling. The urge to be close to you was strong, and it felt incredibly odd to not be near you as you both went to sleep together.

“Goodnight,” you spoke quietly. You shuffled down the mattress and rested your head over the pillow. There was no way you were going to sleep tonight.

“’Night,” Harry hummed from the other side of the bed, lying just as stiff as you were.

You rolled onto your side with your back to the man you couldn’t believe you were sharing a bed with once more. You begged your mind to turn off, to let sleep take over your body so that it could be morning, and maybe everything would make sense in the morning.

But instead your mind wandered to every possible thought regarding Harry, and you rolled onto your back to stare at the ceiling. Trying your damn hardest not to pay attention to Harry’s breathing, or his own shuffles on the bed.

You didn’t know how long it had been, but you were starting to grow hot. Sticking a leg out from under the covers didn’t help much, and then you couldn’t stop thinking about it. You couldn’t stop thinking about Harry – about how you felt with him, about how he made you feel when you had been together. In and out of the bedroom.

Rolling onto your stomach for the thousandth time, hoping Harry was asleep so he hadn’t been hearing your constant shuffling, you squeezed your thighs together and cursed yourself for thinking what you were while lying in a bed with your ex. Wasn’t so much arousal, but just… neediness.

Not only could you not stop thinking about every touch you shared, the linger of his hands and his lips, but you couldn’t take your mind off of every single word you read in his old notebooks. It was haunting you nearly, an old ghost that was sitting on your chest and leaving you heavy hearted.

It was when you rolled from your stomach to your back again with a quiet sigh, that Harry muttered against his pillow with a low voice, “stop movin’ around.”

Slightly embarrassed that he had obviously been awake the entire time as well, you rolled your head to the side to see him over the space of the middle of the mattress. “Sorry – can’t sleep.”

He did the same, turning his head so that your eyes could meet in the nearly completely dark room. “Me neither.”

You simply looked at each other for a moment, trying to let yourself relax enough so that you could eventually drift to sleep before Harry spoke again. “It feels odd, doesn’t it? Sleeping but not being close.”

You nodded, realizing he couldn’t really see your movement before speaking. “Yeah – I can’t relax.”

This time there was no pause between words. “Come here,” Harry said quickly.

“What?”

He shuffled closer to the middle, closer towards you. “Friends can cuddle, can’t they? Just – come here.”

You didn’t think too much of the offer..

You moved away from the very edge of the bed, closer to where Harry layed. He extended an arm out, wrapping it around your shoulders as you came closer and pulled you in to lay next to his chest. Tentatively raising your hand, you laid it flat over his chest before sliding it around him as you hugged him from the side.

It felt nice – normal even, being in his arms. He let out another sigh, murmuring a quiet “goodnight” before settling back down into the mattress.

You felt his hand fall lightly over your shoulder, fingertips brushing on the fabric of the borrowed jumper. You were hyper focused on your breathing, trying your best to steady it in a lame attempt of getting your heartbeat to calm down. But when you realized Harry’s heart was beating just as fast, you relaxed even more against him.

Sleep came slowly, but it eventually did come. At one point Harry moved positions, just the slightest bit, but just enough that he was able to push a leg against yours. Slowly moving your own legs, you let him rest his calf over yours with the small tangle of your legs. That was the last thing either of you remembered before falling asleep.

The morning held a bit more tension.

Harry woke up before you, and spent far too long contemplating on whether he should get up or not. So long, in fact, that you had woken up and made the decision for him. While he feigned being asleep, you quietly shuffled out from under the covers.

Following the sound of your footsteps to the washroom, he heard the door close behind you and the quiet hum of the tap after a moment. He wondered if you would leave immediately.

Getting out of bed himself, he first went to go adjust the thermostat as the air was far too cold after being out of the cozy warmth of the bed, and went to go turn on the kettle.

You were by his side moments later, each sharing quiet “good mornings” while he tried not to stare at the way your eyelids still drooped down and the way you pulled the sleeves of his jumper over your hands.

He knew the offer of coffee would get you to stay for a cup, but by the way you had rushed back to the bathroom with your clothes from the day before told him that you weren’t planning on sticking around for too long.

By the time you reappeared by his side, you were dressed just as you had yesterday. He knew he’d find the clothes you’d borrowed folded over his bed. You seemed fresher faced than last time, even catching a whiff of his lavender scented moisturizer that you always used to borrow.

Biting his lips together to hide his smile at the fact you had in fact taken your liberties with his toiletries just as he’d offered, he quietly prepared you a cup of coffee while your attention was drawn down to your phone.

You mindlessly answered texts, none of them that urgent that they required your full attention as you still couldn’t help but pay close attention to Harry’s every move.

“Sleep okay?” He finally broke the silence.

You paused, needing to clear your throat before answering. “I did, yeah.” Only after he had invited you to lay peacefully in his arms. “You?”

“Did as well,” he hummed, filling the two mugs with the wonderful smelling coffee. “A lot better after you stopped moving around.”

“Sorry again,” you suddenly felt hot at his mention of your irritation – at the reminder of how incredibly needy you had gotten for him to even lay a hand over your own. Taking the mug of coffee as a welcomed distraction, you cupped it in two hands to bring it up to your mouth, blowing over the hot liquid.

He dropped the subject, though, as he mirrored your action and you both took a moment to let the coffee stall the inevitable goodbye that was about to be shared.

“What’re you up to today?”

He thought it over for a second, not actually having planned all that much. “Need to grab a few things from the store, otherwise not a whole lot.” He thought aloud. “And you?”

“Driving to Aix-les-Bains with Eloise, some store over there she wants to see.” You had just seen the text from your friend, deciding to not answer all the ones questioning what had happened with Harry.

You both took big sips of the still too hot coffee. “No writing today?”

“Not that I’ve been that successful,” you mumbled into the mug.

“You’ll find it,” he affirmed. “I know you will.”

Your chest warmed, not from the heat of the beverage but from the sincerity of his statement. You hid your face behind your mug, taking a nearly too big sip that you nearly choked on.

“Thanks again, for letting me stay and for… everything.” You placed the mug by your side, the caffeine suddenly making you nauseous. The words you had read in his old notebook still haunted you.

Harry realized that you were about to tell him that you were leaving, and a small bout of panic rose through his stomach. “Of course -”

He watched, dumbfounded of what to say, as you walked from the kitchen to where you had left your belongings and started arranging them in your bag and put your phone into the pocket of your trousers. Harry couldn’t stop watching every small move you made.

His eyes followed you around the kitchen, mind racing to find anything to say to you anything that would at the very least have you coming back to see him.

“Can I see you again?” He suddenly blurted, voice louder than it had been before, making you stop in your movements and turn to face him.

Your mouth parted and for a moment he thought it was forming into a ‘yes’, but it never came. And he didn’t realize that it never came because his attention caught on something else. Something that had been hiding beneath the tight knit of your sweater yesterday, something that he had forced himself to forget about.

He moved without realizing, taking the two small steps needed to stand right next to you. Noticing his sudden action, you turned yourself so that your body faced his with a small crease of confusion forming between your brows.

He couldn’t help it. Reaching out to where the small locket rested below your collarbones, he caught your attention with the small tug of the chain.

Oh.

Remaining quiet, you watched his focus fall to the necklace that had never been taken off. His bottom lip fell with a quiet exclamation, one you couldn’t hear no matter how close you stood. He turned it over in his hand, briefly wondering whether it was too far to open the little locket.

“Couldn’t take it off.” You said, as he remained quiet due to his current fascination.

You both watched as he toyed with the light metal in his fingers. Grazing over the small flat pearl that graced the front of the pendant, seeing it just as he’d last remembered it.

He had once again found himself standing desperately close to you. If he had moved closer while looking at the jewelry, he wasn’t sure. But when he let it fall back against the light purple knit of your sweater to meet your gaze, he realized that he could see every twitch of your eyes when they moved to gaze up at him.

His hand didn’t fall far, landing with a light touch over your wrist just as he had the night before.

“Give me a shot.”

You tilted your chin up, his words settling in with a flip of your stomach. “You said it yourself – we were good.”

“I know,” was all you could muster, the clear confidence in his words making your heart beat a little harder.

“And I’m having a hard time remembering what went wrong,” a humourless laugh shook from his chest, as he kept his eyes focused on the little locket that had been gifted to you nearly a year ago. “And seeing you here, out of all places. I can’t be the only one.”

“I know,” you repeated, very aware of the intense emotion that had been clouding your mind in the past twelve hours. “You’re not the only one.”

He lifted your wrist that he held, gently placing your arm over his shoulder to move in closer to you. You didn’t object, sliding your palm over the crook of his neck. You were unable to help but take a quick look at his mouth, at his lips that hovered so close to yours.

“Give us a shot,” he whispered, breath hitting the inside of your wrist when he titled his chin towards your arm. His lips skimmed the skin, pressing feather light kisses over the inside of your wrist. With the same light pattern of kisses on the inside of your forearm, he moved his lips away to instead focus on your face.

Placing his hand under your jaw, a similar position that you held him in as he seemed to be moving ever so slowly. Tilting his jaw up towards you, he let his lips skim so slightly across your cheek, so light you nearly thought you had imagined it. Just as he had last night, his nose brushed over your own first while he took a moment to savour you.

Waiting for any sign of hesitation on your part, which never came, he let his lips slowly fall over the corner of your mouth. Wet trail of touches that moved away from your lips and instead over to your cheek, he took a moment to hold you against him.

He whispered something over your jaw, you couldn’t hear him. With your eyelids fluttered shut and your head spinning, all your focus was set on what his lips were doing rather than what they were saying.

This time it was you, who slid your hand to the back of his neck with a much firmer grip. It was you that led his mouth to capture yours.

It was just lips on lips at first, a quick kiss that lasted barely a second. You pulled away before he could even have a chance to react, a small smile curving at your lips when you glanced up at him.

His hand slid up your arm to hold a tight grip around your back, while the other circled to the back of your neck, thumb brushing over your skin in soft circles. He pulled you in again, both relaxing into the kiss as his lips eased over yours.

Kissing him was everything good you remembered. The way he gripped you tightly against him, the soft touch of his lips, the way your name was rolling off his tongue in a quiet incredulous breath.

His mouth was warm, inviting, fitting so perfectly over yours as you tentatively parted your own lips to invite him in for more. Your free hand joined the other around his neck, letting his tongue graze against yours as you tasted each other for the first time in nearly a year. It was all the same – like no time had really passed at all.

Feeling his hand circle around your hip, holding you close as a quiet moan rumbled from deep in his chest. You couldn’t help the content sigh at the sound, completely melting into him. He was pressing tight against you, mouth completely capturing yours while your breathing mixed and lips dampened.

Your chins hit awkwardly when you tilted your head to the side and he went to lightly suck over your bottom lip. Though you didn’t mind the slight sting of his chin knocking yours, in fact you found yourself welcoming everything about him.

It wasn’t until you realized you were sharing heavy breaths, and when your lips had been growing more and more desperate for the other that you needed to separate for a quick deep breath of air.

He breathed your name with a quiet smile tugging at the corners of his mouth that was easily heard in his voice. “We’re still good.”

Your head was spinning. His head was spinning. Nothing seemed to be real, at the moment but at the same time everything seemed far too real.

Just as he leant in again, searching for your lips once more, you slid your palm down from his shoulder to the center of his chest and pushed yourself back an inch. “Harry…”

You wanted to feel his mouth on yours again, you really did. You just couldn’t bear to think what would come of it – you couldn’t revisit all the pain that you had managed to push away.

He shook his head, not believing you were about to turn him down again. Especially after that. He knew he shouldn’t be upset with you about it, he knew it was completely valid on your end but in this moment he felt like everything was coming crashing once more.

When he heard the quiet and pained tone in your voice, he bit his lip down – his lip that could still feel the whisper of yours – and shook his head in disbelief.

“We shouldn’t.”

A sharp pain came from your chest as Harry seemed to deflate against you. “If you don’t –” he had to look away from your heavy eyes as he spoke. “You can’t kiss me like that and then push me away.”

He was right - of course he was right - but you were so incredibly confused and couldn’t seem to process a single thing that you were feeling. “I’m sorry,” you whispered, neither of you moving. “I didn’t mean to…” you didn’t know what to say, because you really did want to kiss him. You still do. “I’m really sorry.”

Harry shook his head. “Don’t be sorry –” he sighed, hands falling from your body.

When he didn’t say anything else, you slowly dragged your palm over your forehead, feeling the sudden tension of the situation manifest in a growing pain in your head. “We can’t keep living in the past.”

He hated himself for the sliver of hope he felt when you said ‘we’.

“We were so fucking good,” he knew he needed to stop entertaining the topic but he really couldn’t help it He knew you saw it too. “We were a team, we were solid. I just don’t know,” he cut himself off, running the back of his hand over his mouth. “I don’t know.”

A thick moment of silence passed – you couldn’t bear it. “It’s too…” you had to take a deep breath as you felt a sob build in your chest. “It’s too painful to go through this again, Harry – this has been the hardest year of my life I can’t –”

You need to cut yourself off, shoulders shaking as you kept your eyes glued to the floor. “I should go.”

#<3 #pls let me know what u think and all as usual ! <33 #harry styles writing #harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles smut #harry x reader

539 notes · View notes

levantea · 3 years

Text

➶-͙˚ ༘✶ Chiaroscuro pt 5

Pairing: idol!hyunjin x blind!y/n

Genre: fluff, healing, strangers to lovers!au

Rating: PG

Warning: ONLY your pov !

Word Count: 4.1k

Synopsis: “the place where light and dark meets is where miracles will rise.”

Chiaroscuro navi 🌓

You remembered that he took around 3 hours to complete that artwork of yours and he was celebrating after he completed it. You asked him how did it look like, but he decided to keep it as a surprise for you. You letted him go and you both spent the rest of the day chit chatting while eating the snacks you both brought.

It was only until then he spilled about his debut life and his hiatus. He mentioned that he was really insecure about himself even before debutting, as he was often labeled as ‘the one that can debut without skills because he has the face’. You quietly listened to him while he was pouring his heart out, and you realised that he wasn’t as strong as how he portrayed himself infront of the others.

Throughout the few months of knowing him, all you felt was him being a sunshine around people, bringing positive vibes to everyone and making them feeling hopeful. Despite your instinct told you that things aren’t as simple as what you felt, you didn’t want to force him to say things he were not prepared for.

And you were right. During the day at the beach, he said that he didn’t want to say initially because he was worried if you would be affected by it and you both were not exactly close to that extend to spill whatever was in both hearts, and he was thankful that you were very open and receptive to it.

He continued that it was really hard for them to debut. Many unforeseen circumstances just wrecked them, delaying them, almost ruining their debut plan but thankfully they pushed on it and debuted. Even though they hitted their first goal, the whole process of climbing to be a top 4th generation boy group was not easy and when they went to a show called ‘Kingdom’, his allegations were spreaded throughout the net and he had no choice but to enter hiatus.

He was so worried, anxious, despair about this issue and he emphasised that he cried almost every night in his sheets, blaming himself for his immature actions in the past that caused karma to happen on him. His confidence level went back to 0 and he didn’t have the courage to pick dancing back.

After listening to his story, you felt sorry for his encounters and tried to give him as much support as he needed. Definitely, what he did wasn’t forgettable but all humans make mistakes, as long as he is willing to own up and apologise, he should be given another chance to prove himself that he worth that and he will shine. You reassured him that all his feelings were valid and encouraged him to slowly start regaining his confidence, so that he can return back on stage with glory. You promised to accompany him during this time and you hope to see him from zero to hero.

He understood your rationale and he also affirmed that he wants to make a change and return to stage after becoming a better person and enhanced skills. After that day, he offered to bring you to his usual dance studio and you were silently accompanying him while he practice. Although you were not able to see, but you knew that he was putting in alot of effort as he always came to you to get water, panting heavily and sweats all on his body. Eventually, it became a routine for both of you until he received news from his manager that, he could join back the group in 1 month time.

“Hey! That’s awesome! You can finally go back on stage!” you cheered when he read out the message to you. However, it sounds like he wasn’t as happy as you were and you questioned why.

“Well, im definitely happy that i can go back on stage, but that also mean that i can’t see you anymore. The schedule is always very packed and i barely have time to even go home and visit my parents, unless during some festives…” he voice trailed off at the end and you sensed that he was upset because you both already built a strong rapport and now you both need to be splitted.

Honestly, you were lowkey upset as well because you couldn’t meet him as often as you were, but you wouldn’t want to be selfish and immature to stop him from going. You always knew the reality - he is orginally an idol. An idol will always be under the limelight, hussling everywhere to meet fans, preparing for next events or albums and filming for shows. How about you?

You are just a nobody; a simple plain girl who is trying to push through everyday life living in the darkness and that’s where you are supposed to be. What audacity do you have to stop him from going? He needs to shine, he is born to shine and he will shine.

You continued to put on your smile despite understanding how he feels, but you wouldn’t want to add on to his. You comforted him that it is okay and there are so many alternatives to stay in contact. You only wish to see him prosperous, even though you couldn’t help him as much.

He wasn’t able to say much because, it is what it is. He is being called back, there is nothing he can do but to cherish the 1 month left with you before you both will split.

Soon after he received his comeback news, you also received another news from your care centre. Fiona told you that you had successfully found a suitable cornea that can help you regain your eyesight. The surgery was already booked on 26 June but as you counted the date, you realised that that day was when Hyunjin will be officially going back to his group.

And now you can totally understand what Hyunjin meant by he was conflicted between the news he received.

It is a mix of happiness, long awaited blessing, excitement, but also upset, lost, worried, anxious.

You told him about the news as well and it felt like he had double attack. He initially planned to bring you out during the last day but after he heard you will be going for surgery soon, it will be better if you take some days to rest before going for operation. This also means that more days have been cutted to hangout and now both of you kind of feeling dejected.

For a few nights, both of you actually couldn’t sleep as both are bothered by the news. It was ironic that, those were good news instead of bad, but why you both are acting as if it is end of the world?

It didn’t took you long to realise that, the feelings you have for him is no longer considered as ‘crush’ or ‘infatuation’, it is called as ‘like’ or ‘love’ already. You felt that you were so used to his existence and now suddenly you have to become alone again, it frustrates you and you blamed that time has been flying too fast and you felt like it wasn’t enough to spend time with him.

You sighed whenever you recalled the message that Fiona told you about your surgery. As the day goes by, the heaviness in your heart grows. You hate to countdown but it also helps both of you to planned your time well before it runs out.

—

D-3

“3 more days to operation…and to his departure,” you just woke up and sitting on your usual seat to receive some warmth from the sun. Even though you are going to hangout with him today, but the thought of it being the last day to meet him makes you dreadful. If only you could have 1 more day, but your surgeon told you to not step out 2 days before the surgery to rest in your ward.

“No, i cannot let him see this side of me, he will be even more upset,” you lightly patted your cheeks as you wanted to get a hold of yourself instead of putting on a gloomy face. Even though Hyunjin reassured you that everything will be fine and you both can meet again after your eyes recovered, you can still sense a tinge of sadness in his tone.

You went to pick an outfit from your wardrobe as he told you that he maybe slightly late today. You were contemplating to wear skirt or dress but looking at the weather outside, the season is starting to enter summer so it will be fine to wear something cooler. You picked a white eyelet dress that goes down till your knees.

Fiona offered to dress you up today but you wanted to do everything your own because you wanted to put in more effort since it is your last day going out with him as buddies. It was hard initially because you didn’t have the habit to wear accessories your own, pack your own bag, wearing your own shoes as it was done by either Hyunjin or Fiona, if Hyunjin was late.

You went to your favourite pond that is on the ground floor of the care centre while waiting for Hyunjin to fetch you. Throughout these 4 months, you opened up yourself more and interacted with other peers, thanks to the encouragement coming from him. You shared your worries with him and he said that he will help you to make more friends, and he did.

Whenever you walked past them, you guys would always greet one another and you almost knew everyone despite not being able to see them. You were happy that you gained many things after you met him, vice versa.

“Y/n, let’s go!” You heard the familiar footsteps coming closer to you and you smiled when you identified that it was him. You never guess wrongly about his footsteps because it always sounded different from the others, or maybe it was because you took more notice of his.

Unsure why, you felt that his hand gripping over yours is slightly tighter today and you constantly felt him tapping on your hands or heard him tapping on his feet. He was also fidgeting around more and you asked him why, but he said he was just excited for today and he hope to have a fun day with you.

Although you were not fully convinced, you didn’t want to probe more as he may not want to share. You were told that he is bringing you to somewhere special today and he said that it will be somewhere you like. On the way to the destination, he was constantly chatting with you or even more than what he did previously. Luckily he wasn’t loud, if not the whole train would probably judge him as hell.

“Mummy! This girl is so pretty! Can you help me take a picture with her?” you heard a kid spoke to his mother and you guessed that he was sitting or standing near you because his voice was pretty loud and close to you. You chuckled at his statement but ended up getting a shock when someone tapped your hand.

“Uhm hi, my boy want’s to take a picture with you, are you okay with it?” you heard a matured female voice reached your ears and your jaw dropped.

Me? Why me? Am i even that pretty?

“Oh, ah, i see, uhm yea sur-“

“No, he can take with us,” the guy beside you cutted your reply as he put his hands over your shoulders, pulling you closer while emphasising on the last word. You betted his mother is as dumbfounded as you because you didn’t expect that he would mind this.

Is he jealous perhaps…?

You heard the mother told the boy and he whined abit before agreeing to Hyunjin’s request. It was a fast process for the pictures to be taken and before they alight, the guy beside you told the boy, “kiddo, next time if you want to take pictures you should see if there is any guy beside the girl before you ask, because the boyfriend will not be happy like me.”

The boy replied unwillingly with an “orh” before leaving the train and you could hear his whining trailing off until the train door closed.

“Hyun, what’s up haha,” you teased him as you lightly nudged his ribcage and he winced at it.

“Hey, i don’t like people who ask for your picture or name or contact or whatsoever! Not even a kid… i don’t like it…” you could predict that he was pouting really badly behind his mask. You reached out to his cheeks and pinch lightly, before replying.

“Hyun, i can’t even see them anyways, its okay,” you patted his head as he pull you tighter to him and you already got used to how both of you interact like a couple.

Maybe staying like this is better than really getting together?

—

Right before you reached your destination, you already smelled faint fragrant smells of flowers and you kind of know that he brought you to a floral garden. You mentioned before that you really like flowers and he remembered it.

Honestly, he remembers everything you said, word for word. His promises were always fulfilled with additional bonus to it. Words can’t explain how grateful you are to have him.

“Ta da! I remembered you said you want to visit the floral garden someday and i thought that before you go for your surgery, receiving some flower blessings may be good for you so i brought you here!”

He guided you along the way and explained each of the flower in detail, picking up some of them to let you smell (it is allowed okay definitely not littering) and keeping some of them to make an album later at the end of the trail. The road wasn’t hard to walk on but he still held onto you tightly, patiently walking you throughout. Maybe God was also blessing, it was really windy and the temperature felt just nice.

At the end of the trail, he said that there was a pond nearby and it was 10 times more beautiful and larger than the one you always visit in your care centre. You both stayed there for awhile and fed some animals there, before moving into a gallery to make the album.

Since you can’t see, Hyunjin helped you to make yours while asking you on which one do you want to paste first, how do you want to decorate it, what colour theme you want, where it position etc and you laughed at him for being like an old uncle nagging at a grandchild.

Time flies really fast, the dusk is coming and you both held onto the album and walked to a designated area for people to sit and appreciate the sunset, or even the nightview.

“Hyun, thanks for bringing me over today, you always know what i enjoy,” you spoke gently as you felt the sunset warmth touching your skin. The whole surrounding was tranquil, a good place to have a heart to heart talk.

“y/n, your most welcome, all i hope for was you to be happy,” he replied in the same tone as yours and you sighed.

It would be nice to end this ‘buddy system’ on a good note.

“Hyun, time flies really fast right? I still remember when we first met was 4 months ago… we were both awkward initially but we ended up geling well very fast.”

“Right, i was still worried initially if you would like me as your buddy but thankfully you were receptive to me, thank you.”

“Honestly, initially i was quite repel towards the idea, but thankfully i didn’t reject and im really happy to meet you.”

“Same for me.”

“Hyun, since today is the last day we are meeting before we part, there are some stuff i wanna tell you… i guess i told you before about my background, so you would understand why i was lonely at the first place. I really can’t describe how grateful i am to have you for this 4 months and not even kidding, it’s the best 4 months out of my life. Im thankful that you were being so proactive and empathetic towards me, instead of pitying me because i was blind. The days of living in the darkness torments me every single day… i felt useless that i couldn’t do things on my own and i have to constantly rely on others, until you made me feel that i have my own self-worth as well. You made me feel loved, cared for, living like a normal person and able to interact with others better. Not exaggerating but you really came in to light up my life and be my eyes, and i could entirely trust you for taking good care of me and you did…”

As your sentences go, you felt tears circulating around the brim of your eyes and you tried to control them. Hyunjin sat closer to you and placed his hands over yours, calming you down by patting your hand slowly and coo you.

He gently wipe a mischievous tear that escaped from your eye and you slowly close them before more tears came. He remained silent for awhile, before dropping his tone an octave and was soft and husky enough for you to hear.

“Y/n, what do you think of me?”

You paused a little to configure what he just asked.

What does he mean by ‘what do you think’? Is he asking me about how he is as a person? Or is he asking as a…?

“Y/n, answer me.”

What? What am i supposed to answer?!

“Huh? Uh, i think you are a really great person, you are talented, like you literally can do everything, you can dance, sing, rap, draw-“

“You know that’s not what i meant y/n,” his tone went serious and it’s the most serious tone you ever heard from him that sent chills down your spine.

He actually can be this scary at times…

“Y/n, what do you think of me, as a man,” he repeated his question again and you can already sensed danger in his voice.

Fine, fine, i’ll say it then.

“I think you are my type,” you felt like slapping yourself thousand times immediately after you dropped your confession. You hide your face into your palms and mentally scolding yourself for being so shameless.

“You are my type too,” he casually spitted reply as you hold on to your breath.

Bruh, hearing it hits different as compared to imagining it.

Little did you know that he was smirking the whole time while he was teasing you. He knew all the time that you had interest in him, he knew all the time from your facial expressions, he knew it inside out.

“Y/n, face me,” he spoke in your ears and you turned your head towards him uncontrollably. That is how soft you are for him.

“I know what is running through your mind, i understand all your concerns, and i can relate to your feelings. I am aware that the time now is not suitable for us to go further, but all i need you to know is that, my heart has always been with you and belongs to you. I don’t want to give any promises right now because future is unpredictable, but what i am very certain about is my feelings towards you. I do not want you to think that because you are disabled and you are not compatible with me. You are well enough and i like you for who you are,” he continued his confession with utmost sincerity as he spoke.

You completely crashed the wall that you have built - which is not to cry infront of the others. When you heard his heartfelt words, you couldn’t help but to pule. You didn’t understand what warmth, love, compassion feels like because you have been alone all this awhile. Even though Fiona tried to spend time with you when she was free, but you still missed your family and the need of friends, not to mention lovers.

“Tha-thank, thank you,” you gathered all the leftover energy you have from crying to squeeze these 2 words out of your mouth. Hyunjin lightly patted your back to sooth you, patiently comforting you that everything will be fine. It took you quite awhile to calm down and breathe normally again, realising the sky has gotten much darker than you both just stepped in.

“What time is it?” you asked the latter beside you.

“It’s 8pm, shall we go?” he looked at his watch before replying.

“Yea, i guess so,” you replied unwillingly because you didn’t want it to end, but you have no choice but to leave now as you need to get back to the hospital by 9.30pm.

You hated how the day passed so fast, especially when you are out with him. Throughout the trip back home, the atmosphere was vastly different as compared to going in the day. None of you actually spoke much, but just holding onto each other’s hands firmly while many things are popping in both brains.

Why do good things always end so fast?

It felt like the trip back home was faster. You both walked back to the hospital that is 10mins from the train station and no matter how slow you both tried to walk, you both still ended up at the entrance of the hospital after dragging for another 10mins.

“Y/n, you can go in first, i’ll watch you from the back,” Hyunjin nudged you slightly to make your move, but you shook your head and stayed there.

“You should leave first because it only take me 5 mins to reach my ward,” you pushed the role to him because you lowkey wanted to send him off first, but he rejected as well.

“Nono, it is not safe for a girl to stand on the road, especially when the sky is dark, listen to me this time round okay?” he exerted some dominance so that you would surrender first and you did.

He knew what you were thinking, because that was his plan as well, but one person take the pain will do, and he willing to be the one.

“Okay then, uhm, before i leave, i just want to say im really thankful for you again and i wish you all the best for your comeback, you guys will definitely blast it and im always mentally with you no matter what,” you gave him one last hug before splitting and you tried to control your useless tears from dropping.

Since when did i become such crybaby infront of him?

“Thank you y/n, likewise, i will be praying for you during your operation day. I hope to see a brand new you standing infront of me again and i can’t wait for that day to come,” he hugged you back and whispered to your ears. He lightly ruffled your head before pulling apart, asking you to go in.

You turned to your heels and left, because at any point of time if you stop or turn your head, you will most likely breakdown and you wouldn’t want this to happen, as it will add more trouble for him. However, your plan falls through.

“Y/n!” you heard him shouting from behind, as well as the quick footsteps running towards you and next moment, all you can remember was his hands snaked over your waist, pulling you closer to him and you felt something soft, warm and plump came in contact with your lips.

Your eyes widened and your felt the world stopped. It was a whole new experience for you and your brain were trying to process what just happened. You felt your heart racing insanely and weirdly in sync with his. It took you awhile to realise that,

he kissed you.

It wasn’t just a peck,

but he really kissed you.

He didn’t delve deeper into it but exert the right amount of force on your lips to show how much affection he has for you, including the boundaries that he cannot cross now - the status and lips, because time hasn’t ripe yet.

“Y/n, this is a deposit. I will return you more when we meet again, and i make sure i will,” he dropped his last words while panting,

and he left.

-> Part 6 (end) | Masterlist | About

-> Network: @thesunshineshop @ficscafe @koffeenet

-> Taglist: @ajxreads @xa21x (wanna join? simply comment or send in an ask!)

35 notes · View notes

cyndavilachase · 4 years

Photo

I’m Looking Forward Now 💖Thank you and good bye

So, it’s been a little over a week since Steven Universe Future ended…

I’ve been hesitant to write this, honestly, but I’m tired of holding myself back from properly expressing myself in fear of appearing overly invested in the media I consume, even in private. Writing helps me organize my thoughts and feelings, and I feel like these thoughts in particular may resonate with many, so I want to share them. I want to talk about what Steven Universe has done for me personally, both as an artist, and as a person.

I’ve been around since the day the first episode of the original series aired. I actually remember when Steven Universe was just a logo on Wikipedia’s “List of Upcoming Cartoon Network Shows” list, back when I was a freshman in high school. It piqued my interest, but when commercials finally dropped for it, I thought it was going to be bad because of the way marketing handled introducing Steven as a likeable character. There was still something about it that made me want to give it a chance though, so I went online and watched the pilot before the first episode's release. I was hooked immediately. I knew I was going to love it, and I did. I fell so absolutely in love with Steven as a character, and the world that he and the gems lived in. I became obsessed. I was always so excited for new episodes to come out. Little did I know what else it would do for me as I went through my adolescence alongside it.

As the show progressed, it was evident that what I wanted out of a western animated childrens’ cartoon was finally coming into fruition: this show was becoming serialized. There was continuity, there was plot, there was character development-- it was getting deep. It was pushing the groundwork that Adventure Time laid out even further (thank you, Adventure Time).

I will give credit where credit is due: earlier western childrens’ cartoons I grew up with like Hey Arnold, and Rugrats, among others, also touched on heavy topics, but Steven Universe was able to take similar ideas (and even more complex ones, concerning mental health and relationships) and expand on them outside of contained episodes and/or short arcs. These themes, which were a part of the show’s overarching story, spanned across its entirety. Continuity was rampant.

What did this mean? It meant kids cartoons didn’t have to be silly and fun all the time and characters weren’t just actors playing a part in 11-minute skits. Steven and the gems would remember things that happened to them, and it affected them and how they would function and play a part in their story. This was a huge deal to me as a teenager. I always wanted the cartoons I grew up with featuring kid characters to feel more. In my own work, I often felt discouraged when combining a fun, cutesy western art style with themes as dark or layered as anime would cover. I always thought it had to be one or the other because an audience wouldn’t take a combination of the two seriously enough, based on discussions I had with classmates, friends, and online analysis I read at the time. Steven Universe proved to me otherwise. This show was opening the door for future cartoons exploring in-depth, adult concepts. I felt so seen as a kid, and was inspired to stick with what I love doing.

I was actually very worried about the show’s survival. It was in fact immensely underrated and the fandom was miniscule. Then in 2014, JailBreak dropped, and it’s popularity exploded. Part of it was because of the complex plot and the themes it was covering like I mentioned, but also because of its representation.

I remember when fandom theorized that Garnet was a fusion due to grand, tragic reasons. Turns out, she’s simply a metaphor for a very loving w|w relationship. This was huge. I cannot stress how important it is that we continue to normalize healthy canon queer relationships in childens’ media, and Steven Universe finally was the first to do that proper. Introducing these themes offers the chance for a kid to sit there and ask themselves, “Why is this demonized by so many people?” I asked myself exactly that. Ruby and Sapphire were my cartoon LGBT rep. They were the first LGBT couple I ever ecstatically drew fanart of. I was dealing with a lot of internalized homophobia at the time, and they showed me that I was allowed to love women and feel normal about it. The process of overcoming this was a long one, but they played a part in my very first steps into becoming comfortable with my sexuality. I could go on and on about it’s representation in general-- how it breaks the mold when it comes to showcasing a diverse set of characters in design, in casting, and in breaking gender roles. It’s focus on love and empathy. Steven himself is a big boy, but he's the protagonist, and the show never once makes fun of his weight, or any other bigger characters for that matter. It wasn’t hard to see why the fandom had grown so large.

Fandom was always a joy for me. It was a hobby I picked up when I was in middle school, like many of us here did. I would always cater my experience to fun, and fun only. I only started getting more deeply involved in SU’s fandom when I had just turned into an adult. During the summer of 2016, between my first and second year of college, I drew for the show almost every day non-stop when the Summer of Steven event was going on and posted them online. This was a form of practice for me in order to become not just more comfortable with experimenting with my art, but also to meet new artists, make new friends, and learn to interact with strangers without fear. I dealt with a ton of anxiety when I was in high school. When I was a senior applying to art school for animation, I decided I was going to overcome that anxiety. I made plans to take baby steps to improve myself over the course of my 4 years of college. Joining the fandom, while unforeseen, was definitely a part of that process. I started feeling more confident in sharing my ideas, even if they were fan-made. I fell in love with storyboarding after that summer, when I took my first storyboarding class, and genuinely felt like I was actually getting somewhere with all of this. I remember finally coming to a point in my classes where I could pitch and not feel hopelessly insecure about it. I was opening up more to my friends and peers.

But this process, unfortunately, came to a screeching halt.

My life completely, utterly crumbled under me in the Fall of 2017 due to a series of blows in my personal life that happened in the span of just a couple weeks. My mental health and sense of identity were completely destroyed. All of that confidence I had worked for-- completely ruined. I was alone. I nearly died. My stay at college was extended to 4 and half years, instead of the 4 I had intended. I lost my love for animation-- making it, and watching it. I could no longer watch Steven Universe with the same love I had for it beforehand. It’s a terrible thing, trying to give your attention to something you don’t love anymore, and wanting so desperately to love again. I dropped so many things I loved in my life, including the fandom.

Healing was a long and complicated road. I continued to watch the show all the way up until Change Your Mind aired in the beginning of 2019, and while I still felt empty, that was definitely a turning point for me with it’s encapsulation of self-love. I was hoping James Baxter would get to work on Steven Universe since he guest-animated on Adventure Time, and it was incredible seeing that wish actually come true. The movie came out and while I enjoyed it and thought highly of it, I was still having issues letting myself genuinely love things again, old and new. It was especially difficult because cartoons were my solace as a kid, when things got rough at home. I remember feeling sad because the show ended, and not getting the chance to love it again like I used to while it was still going.

By the time Steven Universe Future was announced, I was finally coming around. I was genuinely starting to feel excitement for art and animation again. I wasn’t expecting there to be a whole new epilogue series, but happily ever after, there we were! Prickly Pear aired, and the implications it left in terms of where the story was going did it. I was finally ready to let myself take the dive back into fandom in January of this year. My art blew up, something I wasn’t expecting considering my 2-year hiatus. Following this, I was invited into a discord server containing some of the biggest writers, artists, editors, and analysts in the fandom. I had no idea there were so many talented people in the fandom, some already with degrees, some getting their degrees-- creating stuff for it on the side just for fun. The amount of passion and productivity level here is insane, and so is the amount of discussion that has come out of it.

I didn’t realize it at first, but it was actually helping me gain back the courage to share ideas. I lost my confidence in pitching while I was taking the time to heal, and graduating meant there would no longer be a classroom setting I could practice in. This group helped immensely.

I have made so many friends through this wonderful series, and I have so many fond memories talking to like-minded creatives, getting feedback and a myriad of sources for inspiration, as well as all of the memes and jokes and weekly theorizations that came about as we all waited on the edges of our seats for episodes to air. I needed this so badly, I needed to get back in touch with my roots, when I would go absolutely hog-wild over a cartoon I loved with people who loved it as much I did. Future has been a blessing for me in this way. I graduated feeling like I was back at square-one, but now I feel like I’m on my way again.

It’s 2020 and while I’m doing great right now, I am honestly still recovering from the total exhaustion that followed after graduating a few months ago, and finally leaving the campus where my life fell apart behind. Needless to say, watching Future was like looking into a mirror. Watching one of my favorite characters of all time-- one that grew up with me-- go through so many of the same things I went through not too long ago was absolutely insane to watch unfold. It’s such an important thing too, to show a character go through the process of breaking down over trauma and all the nasty things that come with it, and to have them go on the road to healing. Steven got that therapy. He wasn’t blamed. The gems were called out. The finale was everything I could have ever hoped for. The catharsis I experienced watching it was out of this world.

As I continue my own healing journey, I will always look up to the storyboard artists, revisionists, and designers that I have been following over these past 7 years, as well as the new ones introduced in Future. It's been such a joy watching these artists release their promo art for episodes, talk about their experiences working on the show, and post the work they've done for it alongside episodes airing.

Thank you Rebecca Sugar, the Crewniverse, and the fans, for making this such a truly wonderful and unique experience. Thank you for reminding me that I am, and always will be, an artist, a cartoonist, and a fan. Thank you, my followers, for the overwhelmingly positive response to my artwork. I have had so much fun interacting and discussing the show with you all again over these past few months. Steven Universe and it’s fandom will always have a special place in my heart, and it will always be a classic that I will return to for comfort and inspiration for decades to come. I am sad that the cartoon renaissance is over, but so many doors have been opened thanks to this show. I am so, so excited to see what this show will inspire in the future, and I hope one day I get the opportunity to be a part of that.

Goodbye Steven, thank you for everything. I wish you healing, and I wish Rebecca and the team a well-deserved rest. ♥️

-Cynthia D.

5K notes · View notes

plotting-against-you · 3 years

Text

Will It Ever Be the Same (Part 1)

Fandom: Nancy Drew (TV 2019)

Characters: Ryan Hudson, Nancy Drew, Ace, Bess Marvin, George Fan, Ned 'Nick' Nickerson

Prompt(s): This is based on two prompts. One of those prompts is from Alicia, who asked: "Could you do one where Nancy is 13 instead, has blonde hair like Lucy, and blue eyes like Ryan? She goes to his place like in 1x17 to get help for the ritual and on the way out she gets dizzy because she's been working herself to exhaustion. In that moment Ryan notices how similar she looks to Lucy and himself but decides not to say anything but also knows Nancy is his. She eventually tells him before doing the ritual. They go back to his place and he just says 'I know it's you'. She gets overwhelmed, almost passes out, and he just sits with her and tells her to rest."

This is also for @nancydrewcentral's week 2 hiatus prompt: Time Period AU.

Warnings: Panic/Anxiety attacks, mentions of anxiety and coping mechanisms, mentions of character deaths (past and present), mentions of suicide

Nancy wrapped her arms around herself as she bent over, heaving shallow breaths into the air. The sky grew lighter now, as she’d been running for most of the night, and she found herself unsure what to do or where to go next.

“You’re DNA wasn’t a match for the female hair.”

“It’s a mother-daughter match for Lucy Sable.”

“She’s me. The baby is me.”

She couldn’t believe the information she had just found out, and she wished she were older. She thought that if she were older, she might have had more experience in life to handle this sort of life-shattering revelation, but being only fourteen years old, all she felt was betrayal.

And heartbreak.

And panic.

So maybe she felt a lot of things, Nancy admitted to herself, but she felt she had the right to do so. Her whole life had been turned upside-down in a matter of a few hours, and she wasn’t sure what to do now.

She’d been told stories of how hard freshman year in high school could be, but she was positive her friends hadn’t meant this.

She saw headlights approaching and ducked behind a tree, holding her breath as they passed. Though she knew it could be dangerous for someone as young as her to be out alone all night, she was in no mood to face her father. Besides, it wasn’t like she was inexperienced.

She was Nancy Drew, after all.

Or was she?

She let herself plop onto her butt in the grass as she contemplated what to do next. She couldn’t face Carson—for calling him ‘Dad’ now was too hard—but she couldn’t stay out there for too much longer. She’d left her jacket as she climbed out her bedroom window and had started to shiver as soon as she had stopped running.

Her heart ached for the only woman she’d ever known as mother, Kate Drew, and her feelings were mixed there. She didn’t want to be bad at her…whatever she was to her now. Kate had died only a year earlier, and coming to terms with the fact that she’d lied to her hurt more than she wanted to admit.

Then she shivered again and realized she had to find somewhere to take shelter.

She could go to The Claw, she knew. She and her friends had picked up summer jobs working there for cash—under the table of course and no pun intended—and Dawn had always said they could go there whenever they needed. But her friends wouldn’t be there for a few hours yet, and Nancy wasn’t entirely sure she was ready to explain her new parentage to them yet.

As the rush of memories from the night prior filled her head, she picked out one statement that kept replaying itself.

“Ryan Hudson is my biological father.”

She’d seen Ryan Hudson in many different ways over the last few months. For fourteen years, she’d known him as the rich, arrogant hill topper who only graced their town when it was convenient for him or his business dealings.

Then his wife had died during her shift at The Claw, and they’d all been thrown into what she thought would be the weirdest time in her life. Being a murder suspect at fourteen wasn’t what any of her friends had expected for their lives, but it had happened. It was while she was trying to solve that case that she started to see a different side to the man.

Then she’d found out everything regarding his painful loss of Lucy Sable, and her heart broke for him.

Though she’d wanted to help him and Lucy’s ghost in some way, she was forced to put her feelings on pause as even crazier things came to pass—it would be just their luck to call to a sea spirit that wanted them dead—and she’d had to change her list of priorities.

Now all she could think about was how she knew the difficulty in trying to reconcile something in your brain that you had no control over and no knowledge of, no matter how hard you tried.

Standing from her spot in the damp grass, she took a deep breath and started walking again.

This time she knew exactly where she was going.

…

Her phone rang just as she was approaching Ryan’s house.

Groaning as she assumed it was her…Carson, again, she lifted it to hang up but stopped when she saw that it was Ace instead.

He’d been at The Claw with her the night before when she’d read the DNA match on John Sanders’ laptop. So far, he was the only one to know her secret outside of herself and Carson, and she’d only let him stay because he refused to leave her side.

Though he was usually more ‘chill’ than that, he could be a very protective boyfriend when he wanted to be.

She knew that he would be worried about her, especially considering he knew her better than anyone else in her life. So, deciding it would be a good idea to at least tell him she was alive and not eaten by a bear or killed by the Aglaeca, she answered and lifted it to her ear.

“Ace.” She breathed his name out like he was the life raft she needed to save her from drowning.

“Nancy.” She could hear the concern in his voice. “Where are you? Are you okay? Your dad called my parents and said that you ran away.”

She bit her lip. “Carson told me the truth after I confronted him.”

“Oh, Nance…” He used her nickname, and it squeezed at her heart.

“I’m sorry I made you worry.” Her voice was thick with tears as she felt them rush to her eyes. “I can’t be around him right now.”

Ace’s voice was soft as if he were calming a scared animal. “You could have come to me.”

She shook her head, though she knew rationally that he couldn’t see her. She had the brief thought that maybe he had hacked a satellite and could possibly see her. When they’d started dating, he promised he would do anything he could to keep her happy and safe.

“I’m sorry. If I had come there, your parents would have told Carson, and I just….”

“I get it.” His voice was equal parts comforting and protective. “Just tell me if you’re okay.”

“I’m okay.” She sniffed.

“Good. Because I know you’re dealing with a lot, but uh, George’s mom says the Aglaeca’s coming after us.” He said it quickly as if ripping off a band-aid.

This stopped her in her tracks, and she paid no mind to the fact that she stood on the side of a dangerously curved road in the middle of nowhere.

In her silence, he continued. “Nick, Bess, George…we’ve all gotten these really weird visions. Portents. Have you?”

She sighed and closed her eyes in defeat. “I vomited up a seaweed wreath yesterday morning.”

“I would say that qualifies.” He said lightly.

“When I went to look for it later, it had turned to sand. Are you saying the Aglaeca did that?” She hadn’t believed in the supernatural before Tiffany Hudson’s murder, but she wholeheartedly believed in it now.

“Yeah.” Ace hesitated. “Apparently, it’s like a bloodhound. And because the Aglaeca responded to your call for Lucy’s bones, you’re acting as its gateway.”

“What, Ace? What aren’t you telling me?” Nancy knew her boyfriend well, and he was holding something back from her.

“Uh…well, that also means you’re the one that’s capable of stopping it.”

“You don’t sound hopeful about that.” Her heart lurched in sudden anxiety. “Do you not trust me to do it?”

“No!” He said quickly before correcting himself. “I mean, yes. Obviously, I trust you. It’s not that.”

“Then what is it?”

It was his turn to sigh. “Well, George’s mom says that you can throw it off your trail by mixing your blood with somebody else’s. Disguising yourself so that, you know, the curse can’t find you, because if it can’t find you, it can’t find any of us.

“Uh, but…the ritual has to be done with a relative. Your blood relative.”

There was the catch and the reason for his earlier hesitation. “Well, that’s a problem, because…you saw the test results last night. My closest relative is not my blood relative.”

“But Ryan Hudson is.” He sighed again. “Listen, I know that poses certain challenges, and don’t worry. You know your secret is safe with me. But…”

“I, uh…” She started walking again and let the gears in her head turn. “I think I have a plan.”

“Nancy, babe, what are you going to do?” His voice held concern again, but also admiration.

He constantly made sure she knew how in awe he was at her detective skills and her ability to make the best of even the worst situations.

“I’ll meet you guys at Bess’ aunt’s party, okay?”

“Can you at least tell me the plan?” Ace was quick with his words, knowing full well that she could hang up at any moment.

“I have to talk to my father.”

…

Ryan crouched on the ground, frozen in place as he looked at the papers scattered in front of him. He’d been up nearly all night searching for any clue as to why Lucy hadn’t talked to him before taking her own life.

Then he’d picked up on the clues she’d written in her journal, and his mind had stopped.

Stroking his finger over Lucy’s baby picture he’d found in her yearbook, he allowed his mind to wander to every what-if scenario that came at him

What if Lucy had been pregnant? Were either of them ready to be parents at eighteen?

What if she’d told him about the baby? Would it have made a difference?

What if she’d lived? Could they have raised their baby together?

What if his parents found out? Is that why they threatened her?

Ryan was so lost in his thoughts that he almost missed his front door opening and whipped his head up to make sure it wasn’t either of the elder Hudsons coming in. He couldn’t have them knowing what he knew—they could react any number of ways. If he did have a child out there, he didn’t want them anywhere near his parents.

Then he caught sight of Nancy and sighed. “What, did you break-in? Figured you and your dad would be celebrating by now.”

Nancy remembered how Ryan had thanked them after the hearing had adjourned. He’d been upset by everything that happened but also grateful that they’d found out the truth of what happened with Lucy.

She felt horrible for having to go back on those things and hurt him again.

She wondered how she was supposed to once again break the heart of this man who had been through so much. He was only thirty-two and had lost the love of his life and his wife. Now, after twenty-four hours of thinking he knew exactly what had happened, Nancy was supposed to add more to his plate? It was causing her heart rate to spike, and she knew a panic attack was coming.

She saw the hopeful look in his eye and couldn’t do it. She wasn’t going to be the one to deal another blow to his fragile mental health.

“I need your help.”

“Uh, sorry, I can’t today. I have to get over to the free clinic in Trenton.” He was still crouched on the ground as he spoke.

Her face scrunched in confusion, and something shifted in his brain that he couldn’t quite place.

“Don’t you have rich people health insurance?” She questioned him as she moved over to the counter.

He rolled his eyes at her teenage sarcasm. “It’s not for me, okay? I’m trying to get answers on Lucy. The court clerk gave me a copy of her journal.”

Her already accelerated heart rate sped up as she turned to him. “Why?”

“Why?” He sounded appalled by the question and stood. “Because my dad threatened her! I wanted to make sure he wasn’t being physically violent. I didn’t see anything in her journal about that, but I did find some other helpful things.”

Every time he spoke, he made her anxiety worse, not that he was aware of it. “Like what?”

“I mean, you’re still young, so I don’t want to read some of it to you, but in early spring of 2000, she was writing stuff that makes me think….” He trailed off, unsure if he should tell her what he found.

She was only fourteen, after all. He didn’t know what she knew or if she was even comfortable with the subject.

“Go on.” She looked at the back of the papers in his hand, not being able to meet his eye. “I’m not a child.”

Ryan sighed. “I think she might have been pregnant.”

Nancy fought to keep the gray from edging into her eyesight as she swallowed down the rising panic within her. She knew if she didn’t give into the feelings soon, or at least do some techniques that she’d been taught, she’d pass out or worse. But she didn’t want to give away her secret to him just yet—if ever—so she shook her head.

“And you think the baby was yours?”

He scoffed. “Of course, it would have been mine! Lucy and I were…dating…around New Year’s, and so yeah. Mine.”

“You mean you were sleeping together around then.” She corrected for him and rolled her eyes at the shocked and slightly horrified look on his face. “Oh, stop that. I’m in high school now. I know these things.”

Then she caught the new look on his face and froze. He no longer looked shocked or horrified by her words but stared at her as if he was looking right through her. She felt her throat tighten and took a step back.

Ryan stared at her as if he was seeing her for the first time. Whatever had shifted in his head minutes earlier when she’d scrunched her face had returned the moment she rolled her eyes at him, and all the puzzle pieces had come together.

Both of those faces were exact replicas of his and Lucy’s expressions respectfully, and suddenly he was seeing what he hadn’t through their entire “working” relationship.

Besides the fact that Lucy had been haunting both of them, the young detective had told him she was allergic to wasps’ stings, and so was he. In addition to that, he remembered seeing her bite her lip when she was nervous, a trait that Lucy had right up until the day she died.

Then there were her looks. Her blonde hair may have been turning redder every day, but it was undoubtedly Lucy’s, as were her blue eyes his. She was the perfect combination of them, and he knew the truth in his heart.

Lucy had been pregnant. And Nancy was their daughter.

Then his surroundings came back to him, and he saw how she looked at that moment.

Her usually snarky yet confident expression had turned to fear, eyes wide and pale skin merging together to make her look gaunt. Ryan saw her throat moving quickly and knew she was trying to either swallow down tears or suck in air. Her hand, which now gripped the papers he’d handed her, shook enough to be visible, and she looked utterly exhausted.

He knew a panic attack when he saw one and knew that she also knew the truth.

Not wanting to push her, he told himself he wouldn’t bring it up to her. But, still, he had to make sure she was okay. The last thing he wanted was for her to be hospitalized because she was panicking over this added thing in her life.

“Nancy?” He kept his voice even, though he could hear the worry in it. “Are you okay?”

As he said the words in the same way Ace had said earlier, she told her brain that it was her boyfriend’s voice she was hearing and forced herself to relax. “I…”

“Can I get you some water?” Ryan moved away from her, walking to the sink. “You look pale.”

“Yeah, I, uh…didn’t get any sleep last night.” She forced herself to take some deep breaths while his back was turned and felt a bit more stable when he brought her the glass. “Counteroffer…I’ll help you find out if Lucy was pregnant if you do me a favor after.”

He’d do anything she asked of him, he realized, even if it meant doing her favors or playing along with something she clearly didn’t know he knew. “Deal. Do you need to call your dad?”

He saw the way she cringed at the word ‘dad’ and confirmed his theory that she wasn’t doing as well with the news as he was.

“Uh, nope. I’m good. He’s probably at work anyway.”

He didn’t call her out on the lie, instead holding the front door open to follow her to his car. He’d find out more about that situation later.

…

She’d lied to him. She’d looked him right in the face and lied to him.

They’d taken the trip to Trenton, and acting like a spoiled, entitled rich guy had made Ryan realize just how shitty of a person he probably was in everyone’s eyes. After Nancy had insisted on speaking to the doctor herself, he stood in the waiting room and thought about it.

He knew that he was different from everyone else in Horseshoe Bay, but until he was pretending to threaten to shut down the clinic, he had never realized how those people might see him. It was hard to come to terms with the fact that you had been an asshole for thirty-two years of your life, but Ryan had decided at that moment there wouldn’t be another.

He was going to change for Nancy, even if she never knew it was for her. He never wanted to see the look on her face as he had when she’d shut him up or told him a flat-out lie after leaving the clinic.

Sitting in the driver’s seat of his car, he thought about the story she’d spun for him, telling him that Lucy had been pregnant but had died with her child still inside her womb. He had done the math and had figured out that Nancy had been born weeks earlier than her due date, and she must have too.

Her knowledge of life and her ability to spin a tale baffled him.

“So, are you going to like…tell me why we’re going to Diana Marvin’s house?” He questioned, not wanting to sit in silence any more than they had.

Nancy huffed. “It’s Bess and her cousin Owen’s house, too.”

Owen Marvin was quite unlike the rest of his family. Being their age and having so few family members that were, he sometimes joined Bess at The Claw during her shift to hang out with their group. Of course, they all knew that he primarily came to flirt with Nancy but had been sweet enough to stop once her relationship with Ace had come out.

“I know, but still. You know that I’m like persona non grata, so you want to tell me what this favor is or what?”

“Yeah, in a minute. Can I ask you something?” Nancy had shifted her head lazily on the headrest so that she could look at him.

She still looked slightly pale, something the doctor had also noticed when they walked in, but her breathing seemed to be better, and she looked less like crying.

“Yeah, sure.”

She opened and closed her mouth only once before speaking. “What would it have meant, if-if you’d had the…the baby? Do you think you were ready to be a dad at eighteen?”

He should have known this question was coming. Even so, he answered honestly as he figured she’d be able to tell if he was lying. Besides, she looked too vulnerable as she stared at him.

“At eighteen? No…” He chuckled slightly. “No, hell no. A kid like me, I was dumb and spoiled, and I had horrible parental role models, as you know, so no. That would have been a disaster.”

He thought of his parents again and internally cringed, promising himself he’d do everything in his power to keep them away from Nancy.

“Do you think…do you think that you would have tried to…?” He saw her tuck a strand of hair out of the corner of his eye before she froze and started pulling at her hair. “Oh my God.”

“Hey, you okay?” He glanced at her now, then nearly hit the breaks as she started choking. “Hey. Hey, h-hold on.”

He swerved dangerously to the side of the road and brought the car to a park. Nancy was throwing herself out of the car the second they were stopped, and he followed her actions, panic welling up inside of him.

He wasn’t sure if she was having a panic attack again, but it looked different than it had before back at his house. When he finally got around to her side of the car, she was breathing again. He reached her side the second she slammed the door shut and watched in confusion as she stared at her reflection in the tinted windows.

“Hey, what…what, are you having a panic attack?” He knew he wasn’t supposed to ask, but it scared him.

Then he saw her look at her hand and the pile of sand that sat in it that had definitely not been there a moment prior. “No, no, uh…it was a portent.”

“A portent?” How did she even know what that word meant? He sure didn’t at fourteen. “What, you mean from Lucy?”

“No. From something completely different.” She looked scared now, but differently from before.

This had nothing to do with their familial relationship, and that seemed to worry him even more. He wondered if her whole life would worry him, as she seemed always to be ingrained in some dangerous happenstance.

“This is the favor that I had to ask you, actually.” She sounded upset, tears threatening to fall. “A few days ago, I did something unusual to get the evidence to exonerate my…to exonerate Carson. Uh, my friends and I did this ritual to call to this sea spirit.”

He was completely confused but tried to keep up. “Sea spirit. Like…like dolphins?”

She shook her head as she sat on the ledge overlooking the sea. “Stay with me. It’s a local legend. Uh, and it worked. The Aglaeca answered my call. But the problem is…is I couldn’t hold up my end of the bargain.

“The…the Aglaeca wanted Owen Marvin’s blood. All of it. So we couldn’t go through with it, and now we triggered this, uh, curse, and I have to fix it. And in order to do that, I need to do another ritual to make sure that the spirit doesn’t lock onto its target, and…and that’s where you come in.”

She hated having to get someone else involved, but she was desperate for anything that might save the lives of her and her friends.

Though he wanted to wrap his arms around her and whisk her away to be somewhere safe from all this nonsense, he knew that wouldn’t solve anything. He’d seen enough of Lucy’s ghost to know that supernatural creatures existed, and if his daughter was tangled up with one, he couldn’t let her down.

“Why me?” He was genuinely curious and hoped it didn’t come off as a refusal. “I mean, unless this Aglaeca takes cash, then I’m….”

“It’s not about your money this time, Ryan.” She snapped at him now, and he could see the panic setting back in. “It’s about you specifically, because….”

He froze, watching her face carefully, and wondered if this was the moment she would reveal that she knew she was his daughter.

Then he watched as she hesitated and shook her head. “It’s a long story, uh, and one of which you don’t need to know all the details. But if you just come with me….”

He nodded immediately. “Yeah, no, of course. I mean, it sounds urgent.”

They stared at each other for a second, and he watched as Nancy tried to blink away the tears that had pooled in her eyes. He felt his resolve breaking before taking a deep breath and deciding to take a leap of faith.

“Do you need me because I’m your father?”

Part 2

#cw nancy drew #nancy drew fanfiction #nancy drew #ndcentral #nancy x ace #nancy drew & ryan hudson #younger nancy drew #teenage nancy drew au #time period au #part 1

21 notes · View notes

fountainpenguin · 3 years

Text

It’s an Update

Hello, Riddle here! I know I’ve been pretty quiet on Tumblr lately. Here’s an update on my situation:

I will definitely post more fanfic updates soon. I’ve picked at drafts, but haven’t posted anything lately. Here are the reasons why:

I got a new IRL job. It’s a good fit for me, but I have less free time than I used to, of course. It’s a job that involves writing lots of articles on a variety of topics, and I enjoy how every day is a little different

Most of my free time for the last year has gone towards my mod work at the Creature-Crossing ARPG, and to my personal CC writing. I’ve been working on new activities over there (my recent favorite being our seasonal familiar shows... I won first place in the summer show!) and I have a lot of plot plans that are coming together now. If you ever want to see my original characters and read my CC writing, you can find my character directory HERE and my Table of Contents HERE.

Once November 1st hits, I won’t be preparing for the release of any more CC activities or events. All future activity or event releases will be overseen by the other mods, and I’ll simply be someone they can ask for extra help if needed. This is a big change for a mod who spent the last 12 months working on new releases, and will give me back some of the free time my IRL job will eat

The Creature-Crossing admin (my boss) greenlit my request to bring an assistant on the mod team who will specifically help me with a lot of my behind-the-scenes work, such as data entry and organization. I’ve never had another mod who specifically helps me with the back end duties before, so that will be awesome. I will need to spend some time training them, but once they are official, that will take some of my workload off and allow me more free time for this blog and personal writing time.

===

Fanfic updates you can expect to see soon:

- Reedfilter Rules

- Frayed Knots

- Origin of the Pixies

- Debut of Factor It In, my Kid Math-centric “WordGirl” fanfic (Subtitled “Tales of a third-grade superhero in training”)... Yes I am still in love with this idiot boy, expect lots of doodle pages soon

- The 130 Prompts project is on a slow-burn writing schedule... I’ll write for it when I want to, but I mostly want to focus on Origin and Knots this year.

Further info below the cut. There is more info about non-Fairly OddParents ‘fics in here too (under “non-FOP fanfics”), so if you’re looking forward to Mario World or “WordGirl” ‘fics from me, give this a click so you know what’s coming!

So, what does this update mean for your fanfics?

They’ll be active again soon! I’ve been picking at them behind the scenes, trying to build up a buffer. In an ideal world, I would love to release a new chapter for SOMETHING every Friday. I doubt this will be possible, but it’s something I would love to work towards in the future. Realistically, you can probably expect some kind of fanfic update once every two Fridays (two updates per month).

There might be some Fridays where posting an update is not possible. Instead, I’ll make a post about what progress I made instead. In the past, I often overworked myself to get a chapter out in time for my old deadline. I will not be doing that anymore, but will instead hold myself to a goal of “Make progress on something every week.”

In the best ideal world, I would love to post one FOP fanfic update per week and one non-FOP fanfic update per week. This is not likely to happen for a long, long time, but that would be the dream.

Here are the things I most likely worked on if there is no fanfic update:

- A fanfic chapter draft that needs more time

- A sideblog profile

- A Toyhouse profile for personal characters

- IRL work or mod work may have kept me busy this week

- Creature-Crossing writing... I will try to prioritize my fanfics more, but my CC writing is still important to me and I will be working on it in a lot of my free time too. At the moment, I have a hard deadline of December 14th that I need to meet if I want to release huge plot drama on the day that it happens in canon. I’ve been building up to this for a long time, so I’m really excited about that.

I currently have summer or autumn 2022 planned as the “finale” for the majority of my plot to explode. I will be hosting a member-run event in Creature-Crossing that will last for two months, so a lot of my time from January until the event’s release will be spent doing event prep. Once the event ends, my story content will mostly be a “return to slice of life.” Stories will be more casual one-offs as characters grow, live their lives, and start their own families. Hitting seasonal deadlines for plot will no longer be so important. I’ll be giving Creature-Crossing work less attention after that, and much more attention to my fanfics.

- I may not have a fanfic chapter out each week, but I WILL post a note every Friday to let you know what I have been doing with my time. You’ll see me around. Feel free to send Asks and talk!

===

What non-FOP fanfics would you like to work on?

For literal years, I’ve been claiming I want to post Mario World fanfics. This is still something I want to do. I tag Mario World posts as “mushrooms and more.” I’ve already done a lot of worldbuilding, I have thousands of words of content written for this fandom... I just haven’t posted any of it. I hope to do this soon.

- “WordGirl” fanfics are prioritized over Mario World fanfics. After I finish my first “WordGirl” multi-chapter, I will probably be ready to post my Mario World ‘fics. I may possibly post some Mario World one-shots in between other fanfic updates. Might take another year or more before I touch Mario stuff unless there’s high interest in seeing it sooner?

I also really want to write some WordGirl ‘fics and get more involved with the fandom community. I’ve been building headcanons and lore for this show ever since I was a kid, and I have multiple ‘fics for this fandom that I want to write.

- “AlgoRhythm” is a ‘fic I have already posted on FFN and AO3, about WordGirl introducing Kid Math to the villains in town

- 28 Cities is a ‘fic I started about Rhyme and Reason before they arrived in Fair City. I put it on hiatus since it didn’t seem like anyone was interested, but I’m willing to post more for it if there is interest in it now that years have passed and I’ve gotten more followers who like WordGirl. I have a lot of worldbuilding and plot I never shared for it

- Factor It In is a ‘fic I’ve been working for a while that parallels the official show from the moment Kid Math arrives in town. It focuses on Rex’s struggle to adjust to this world as a child coming into his superpowers for the first time (Y’know, the whole “superheroes don’t have powers when they’re on their home planets” thing), his struggle to adapt to the social world of a non-logical planet, and Becky’s struggle to help him become accustomed to Earth and learn to share it with her as well. If the episode “Kid Math” was a full-length novel about Rex’s arrival and character development, that’s what this story is. This is the highest priority of all my non-FOP ‘fics... I’ve had a cover image made for 6 months and even though I tried setting it aside, I’ve always been super inspired to write for it. If I felt like it would be a good idea to commit to weekly updates alongside my FOP updates, I would, haha.

- I have two one-shot WIPs called “Squishy Feelings” and “A Little Ambiguity”, one of them focusing on Becky and Rex talking about the events of “Rhyme and Reason” and what it means for Rex’s secret identity, and the latter being a future ‘fic showing WordGirl and Kid Math dealing with life 10 to 15 years down the road. I’ll probably post the latter, not sure yet on the former.

- If desired, I may make a WordGirl specific sideblog where I post lore, answer Asks, post character profiles [smaller than my FOP sideblog ones], and mention fanfic updates. If you would be interested in this, feel free to send me an Ask requesting I do this. If there’s not interest, I’ll just keep my WordGirl stuff on the main blog.

- I’d like to get more involved in the WordGirl community, so I’ll probably post more content and reblog more art and headcanons

I also have a handful of miscellaneous ideas I might follow through with. I’d like to write at least one “TUFF Puppy” fanfic so I can say I did. In a perfect world I would like to finish the two “Danny Phantom” and “Bunsen Is a Beast” fanfics I started because... I just kind of want to dip my toe in each of the Hartman shows once since I already went through all the effort of worldbuilding for them to make them canon in a single Hartman show universe. “ChalkZone” is another show I adore and might touch someday (You may recall I have a full outline planned for an FOP/ChalkZone crossover ‘fic called “Dust to Dust”).

Will I write all of these things? Maybe not. I have no idea if I want to spend the next 10+ years writing fanfics, or if I’ll simply be done with all misc. fanfics immediately once I decide to be done with my main ‘fics. I definitely intend to write for a few more years and finish my main ‘fics, but I might not go through with some less popular side ‘fics if life is getting busy for me.

===

What is the posting schedule for FOP ‘fics?

Reedfilter Rules, Frayed Knots, Origin of the Pixies, the 130 Prompts project, and “Come What May” are all high priority FOP writings. I will swap between them depending on my mood that week.

Here are some other ‘fics I want to work on.

- If you like, you can send me Asks requesting I work on a specific story above the rest. I will try to prioritize whichever stories interest you guys most.

Snips and Snails is a ‘fic I started and posted the first chapter for years ago. I’m not sure when I will get back to it, as I ran into some writer’s block. It’s still on tentative hiatus for now..... Possibly forever, though I hope it isn’t forever since it’s only supposed to be, like, five more chapters.

Pink and Gray is on official hiatus. I actually have a lot written for it, but I know it’s a little weird to put so much time and energy into Gary and Betty content when... well, let’s be honest: they’re my niche favorites and most of you probably don’t care. So, I am lifting my usual “no spoilers” policy from my Ask Box. If you would like to ask about my Gary and Betty backstory headcanons, feel free. I will tag my replies as “ridwriting spoilers” for anyone who wants to blacklist the tag, and spoilers will be hidden under a Read More line.

I’d like to return to this story someday because there are tons of things I like about it (ranging from Betty’s secret tattoos to Gary’s plot drama with his mom to the background drama between Talon and Anti-Cosmo, but I always feel immense pressure to make it extra cool to make up for the fact these are weird side characters, so... it’s officially at the bottom of the priority pile. Once Talon shows up in Frayed Knots and readers understand who he is and why he exists, I’ll consider coming back to it.

Identity Theft is a story about Foop and his time in the alternate dimension he was flung into following the episode “Playdate of Doom.” To put it short, Foop was abused by alternate versions of his parents in this dimension and he witnessed some pretty intense stuff, including the death of the alt version of himself who existed in that reality. The trauma he experienced resulted in his alternate personality, Hiccup. Foop himself has very few memories of what happened, as Hiccup has all of those memories. This story is canon in my works, and it is regularly referred to during the 130 Prompts as part of Foop’s backstory. It’s my highest priority side story to work on.

Along the Cherry Lane is a 20-chapter work focusing on the lives of the main human cast from age 11 to age 30, with one chapter showing a snippet of their lives each year. You see Timmy raising Tommy and Tammy in this ‘fic, and it ends with them receiving godparents. Since the 130 Prompts don’t give humans much attention, this ‘fic does. You’ll probably see it debut two years from now, closer to when the 130 Prompts is ready to talk more about humans.

If this becomes a popular ‘fic of mine, I’ll probably write a sequel or continue it past Chapter 30 and write about Tammy and Tommy living with fairies, but I won’t if there’s no interest in that.

Little Imperfections is a Pixie AU ‘fic of mine about what life would be like in a universe where the Fairies are even more like insects than I play them as during my main works (where I already play them as semi-similar to insects). In this world, the Head Pixie is a figurehead whose duty is to reproduce for the sake of the colony and do nothing else, and he’s bored out of his mind until he befriends Sanderson, who introduces him to music. It’s extremely self-indulgent and silly because I like Pixies.

Francis is a multi-chapter ‘fic about bully Francis’s life getting yet another fairy godparent in a long string of memory wipes and godparents. It takes place during the canon series, and when you see an “orange fairy” mentioned in some of my writings, it’s usually referring to this fairy. His name is Rover and I occasionally post art of him. I feel like I can’t truly call myself an FOP fanfic writer until I actually write about a godkid and their godparents, haha...

Hawthorn Haven is a side ‘fic that will be posted towards the end of the 130 Prompts, as it veers off from the prompts in its own self-contained multi-chapter story. It will be approximately the length of “Baby, You’re a Rich Man.”

Acacia Arcadia is a far-past ‘fic detailing the fall of the ancient fae, the imprisonment of the nature spirits, the rise and fall of the chimera nation, the fall of the Martian genies, and the early days of the cloudlands. This is close to the bottom of the priority pile... It’s something I spend time on for personal reference to ensure accuracy in my other ‘fics, but it’s probably not what you guys came here to read.

AA has a bunch of characters in it that you might vaguely recognize, such as Ezekiel Whimsifinado, Evadne, Ione, Two Feathers, Rho, and Sablewood (If you’re astute, you might recall cloudland legends and landmarks in modern day that refer back to these characters). There are also a lot of characters who were reincarnated as Anti-Fairies, in accordance to traditional Anti-Fairy beliefs; Foop for example exists as a main character in one of his past lives, and you’ll see a hint dropped about each of his lives in the first chapter of Identity Theft. My tentative plan is to use Foop’s past lives as my central characters, following the events of each part of the timeline until he gets killed and reincarnates at a later point of the timeline.

I also keep some one-shots in a file I call Mixed Nuts and I may possibly post them someday (they’re mostly just one-shots of main cast characters I do to get a feel for their personalities, I have some Wanda and Cupid in here). @zachbrightside and I are also working on a collab ‘fic called Like a House On Fire that shows more of Timmy and Chloe’s lives during Season 10 (especially around the time of “Which Is Wish?”) No news on a release date for that yet.

As I’ve said before, once all my other FOP works are complete, I will write Devil’s Backbone, which is my far-future ‘fic and the finale of my FOP writing. I do not plan to write any more FOP content after that story is finished, as I expect to have all other FOP projects done by then.

- Devil’s Backbone is a finale 'fic, so all worldbuilding from all stories is fair game to blend together, and it’s highly recommended you read everything else first. This story has been outlined since 2016, and it might not be published for another 10 years... Who knows! But it’s something I always work towards as a concrete endgame goal.

- If something serious comes up in my life and I officially decide I don’t want to write this story, I will post the outline for it. The link to this draft is included with all the other Google Docs links I have in a far-future queued post unveiling my WIPs in case I unexpectedly die and you still want to know how my stories would have gone, so you’ll get access to this story eventually even if I die young. Yes, share access is turned on for them all and I do take extra careful measures to be sure that post doesn’t get posted early skldfj

===

What is the plan for the main blog?

Every Friday, I will post either a fanfic chapter or a progress update. You can blacklist the tag “ridlife” if you do not want to see the progress updates on your dashboard. Fanfic updates will not have the “ridlife” tag, so you will not be blocking them.

During the rest of the week, I might post doodles, reblogs, or general comments. Basically... you’ll see the blog become active again. Feel free to send in Asks about my worldbuilding and thoughts on fanfic characters.

@fountainpenguin is my personal blog, so you will see non-fandom things on here sometimes

@riddledeep is my FOP-exclusive sideblog. It contains all my lore notes and goes into a ton of depth, more than my fanfics give in one breath

===

What does this mean for the Riddledeep sideblog?

I really want to go back and edit those character profiles that were posted early by mistake. The reason they were queued is because if I turned them into drafts, they would have been buried all the way at the beginning of my draft collection, and I have many, many drafts saved. There are no page numbers to navigate quickly through the draft collection, so I would have to click through each page one by one if I ever wanted to look at them. I hated doing this, which is why I kept my posts queued.

I was regularly updating the queue deadlines, trying to keep things in the order I wanted to post them in, but Tumblr made a change to the way drafts are dated and it kept throwing off my system. My inability to remember when my queued things would post combined with my busy schedule led to some profiles being posted early and incomplete. I want to fix these.

Over a year ago, my good friend Vulpix150 helped me finalize my designs for the Aos Sí and Daoine Sith. I’ve been sitting on that art in secret for a while, and at some point I plan to post it on the sideblog and talk more about that lore.

Updating fanfics is my higher priority (and it was the priority my followers voted for when I asked you to send votes to my Ask Box a while back). So, I will usually spend my free time working on fanfics unless I need a break from them and want to work on sideblog profiles instead. Thank you for your patience!

===

TL;DR

I’m posting fanfics again soon. I’m going to take a more relaxed approach to posting them. I’m going to post more of what I want to post and what I feel motivated to post, not always a main ‘fic update. If I’m not “feeling it” when working on a draft, then I’ll set it aside for a while unless I know my followers and readers have high interest in the next chapter of that story. I always write for me first, but if I know there are other people who care a lot about a story, then of course I want to write it for you too!

I’m going to embrace my decade-long love for WordGirl and post more ‘fics and art or this fandom. I’ve always been a little shy about doing this, but I’m ready to make it an official fandom on my main blog (unless there are lots of requests for WordGirl things to be contained in their own sideblog). I will be posting the first chapter for a ‘fic called Factor It In very soon. Love my easily frustrated alien kiddos having a long day.

I am working on Creature-Crossing stuff too, and will be especially busy in November and December. Updates will be slow for a few months, but I hope to find my groove and a good pace soon.

Each Friday, I will post either a fanfic update or a mention of what I am working on. I will be checking in on Tumblr regularly. Feel free to talk! I much prefer you send messages to my Ask Box, not my private messenger, please <3

===

Is there a specific story of mine you like and want more updates for?

Asks and reviews help me know which ‘fics people are enjoying. I plan to keep writing ‘fics no matter what, but I definitely give more time to the ‘fics that get more attention (and I have been spending so much time writing for Creature-Crossing because that’s where the attention was coming from)

It’s easy to stay motivated and get the next part of a story out soon if I know that people like it. It’s always harder if you feel like people are silently judging you and ignoring your posts. So, let me know what you’re interested in. And if you only leave Likes or Favorites instead of asks and reviews, that’s okay too! Thank you for interacting anyway and enjoying my work.

Thanks for reading!

#WordGirl #Factor It In #Kid Math #FAIRIES!#ridlife #riddleverse mention #ridwriting #Mushrooms and more #Satirical vocab alien child show #Frayed Knots #130 Prompts #Origin of the Pixies #Pink and Gray #Acacia Arcadia #Devil's Backbone #Hawthorn Haven #Along the Cherry Lane

10 notes · View notes