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punkshort · 1 day ago

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Swept Away: Season Two

Chapter Two: Kokomo

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Chapter Summary: The first few days back in Fiji was heaven on earth - until things start to unravel.

Chapter Warnings: language, reader has long-ish hair, fluff, smut (18+ MDNI), alcohol and food consumption, wedding talk, possessiveness, jealousy, mention of OC substance abuse, an air of mystery, perhaps?

WC: 7.4K

Series Masterlist

A/N: inspired by this ask. I should also mention I have some personal stuff going on that I've been struggling with and yesterday things took a nose dive — I haven't been on here as much as usual but I'll try to hop on when I have the ability. Thank you for understanding ❤️

It had only been a couple days at The Parador and Joel had warned you repeatedly the hotel wasn't fully operational yet, to expect some things to not be ready or up to snuff, but so far it felt like literal heaven on earth. Waking up the past few mornings with the warm sea breeze floating in through the open doors of your bedroom, laying next to the man you loved more than anything, your future husband, while exotic birds sang somewhere outside had you on cloud nine.

The first day you arrived, you had wandered around the villa in awe. There were three bedrooms, including the master, and each had its own ensuite bathroom. You realized right away your parents easily could have stayed with you, but you didn't say anything to Joel. Deep down, you appreciated the privacy, and you had a feeling Joel wanted the same. The way your parents acted any time you mentioned Joel or the wedding was really starting to gnaw at you, and resentment was burning brighter than you let on.

Granted, your relationship with your parents hadn't always been great. Growing up in their house had its challenges. You and your mother butt heads a lot and your father had a tendency to work as much as possible, creating a void between you during the most formative years in your life. It was around the time you announced you were moving to Los Angeles for college that you felt your relationship with them crumble even more. They absolutely hated the idea of you living in L.A. — preconceived notions of the city they read online had your mother convinced you would be homeless and your father thinking you would "fall into the wrong crowd". But once you graduated and got a job at a production company, you thought their minds would be put at ease, so you did your best to repair that relationship. As more time passed and the phone calls became shorter and more uncomfortable, you began to wonder if they had hoped you would fail just so you would have to move back home, proving them right.

All of that aside, getting engaged and moving in with Joel should have shown them how happy and successful you were. They should have been happy, too. Yet, they still held back, refusing to get to know Joel better or talk much about your engagement.

It was the only dark cloud over an otherwise amazing time in your life, so you were ultimately glad Joel decided to book them a villa in a different hotel instead of sharing a room. The last thing you wanted was for them to ruin the grand opening of The Parador with their negativity looming around every corner. Both you and Joel worked so hard on the hotel, you deserved to enjoy yourselves.

And enjoy yourselves, you did. It was your third day on the island and even Joel couldn't resist how spectacular it felt to be back in paradise. He looked so relaxed and happy that it was hard to remember you were technically there to work, with some wedding planning scheduled during the quieter parts of your days. But it didn't stop either of you from lounging by the pool or beach whenever you could with your phones and laptops while upbeat music played softly through the speakers surrounding the area. It surprised you at first, to see Joel so relaxed during a workday. It was a far cry from the way he behaved the last time you were in Fiji.

Another thing you certainly didn't recall him doing the last time you were there was having a cocktail or two with lunch. He had grown particularly fond of frozen drinks, something that always made you giggle when you saw him sipping around all the fruit and a fancy umbrella, shoulders shifting slightly in rhythm with the music.

"What?" he asked hazily from his lounge chair when he heard you. His sunglasses were perched on the tip of his nose and his lips were wrapped around the bright pink straw of his piña colada.

"Nothing. I'm just loving this side of you," you grinned. His laptop sat open at the end of his chair but right next to it was a book he had been reading, spread open and face down while he ate. "Can't wait to see more of this relaxed Joel on our honeymoon."

You could tell by the way his cheeks were slightly pink and the glassy look in his eye that he was just a little tipsy when his eyebrow arched at the topic of your honeymoon.

"'Bout that," he said, putting the fancy glass down next to him. "Have you decided where you wanna go?"

You shrugged and shook your head. "Maybe Italy? Or Costa Rica?"

"What 'bout Paris?" he asked before leaning back in his chair with a sigh.

"Maybe," you said, pursing your lips in thought. "Not many opportunities to see you in those swim trunks in Paris, though."

Joel grinned and turned his head to look at you over his sunglasses. "You like me on the beach, huh?"

You giggled, making his smile spread even wider.

"You do seem at home on the beach."

He pushed his sunglasses back up to the bridge of his nose and took another sip from his drink. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw his email program pop up with an alert in the corner of his laptop screen, but he didn't seem to give a shit. The sun felt so nice and it was indescribably peaceful, sitting in your own private garden-slash-patio while the waves crashed lightly against the sandy shore not too far away. The sound drew Joel's attention and he turned his head, watching the foamy crests splash down onto the smooth sand. Then, a thought occurred to him and he frowned.

He remembered a time from your first week on the island, back when he had hired you to pretend to be his fiancée. When you first met Glenn, you made up a story about how Joel proposed to you on the beach in Santa Monica. Later, when he asked if that's what you always wanted, you shrugged it off. I tried to think of the most romantic thing possible and it just popped into my head, you had said. Joel turned back to you and took off his sunglasses.

"Should I have proposed to you on the beach?"

Your head snapped up from your phone in surprise. "What?"

"That story you told Glenn, when we were—"

"No!" you exclaimed, sitting up in your chair. "I love how you proposed to me. Both times!" you added, holding up both hands and making him grin. "You could have proposed to me literally anywhere and I would have said yes. I already told you, Joel," you scooted closer and leaned forward to cup his face with both your hands. "I love you so much, I would marry you anywhere. All the rest of this... stuff—" you jutted your chin towards your phone, where you had been replying to an email from Nadia, "—it's just for fun. It doesn't really matter. This is all that matters."

You pressed your lips lightly to his, feeling him smile before leaning back and dropping your hands to your lap.

"Hopeless romantic," Joel teased, his dark eyes sparkling and playful. You just giggled and shook your head at the familiar accusation. When you picked your phone back up to finish your email, Joel groaned and suddenly jumped up from his chair.

"I fuckin' love this song," he announced before swaying his hips. He began to sing softly to himself as he shuffled around the edge of the pool, and it wasn't until he was further away that you heard the lyrics to Kokomo filtering through the speakers.

"C'mon, pretty mama," Joel called, swiveling around and holding out his arms for you. "Dance with me, baby," he added, smirking while slowly bobbing his shoulders and mouthing the words in your direction. You burst out laughing and shook your head.

"You're drunk!"

"I ain't drunk, I'm fuckin' happy!" Joel exclaimed loudly. His chin tilted towards the clear blue sky and closed his eyes while he continued to move from side to side around the patio. When he stumbled a bit, you laughed and tossed your phone on the table so you could join him.

"Be careful, you're going to trip," you scolded playfully, wrapping your arms around his bare torso and resting your chin on his warm, sun-kissed chest.

"Maybe I should get you another ring and propose on the beach," Joel murmured, gazing down at you. He was still swaying, pulling you with him as he spoke.

"Don't you fucking dare."

He laughed and his hands settled on your hips, tugging you close so you could move in sync with the music.

"Alright, fine," he relented, slowly spinning you both in a circle. "Least let's play this at the wedding."

"Kokomo? You want to dance to Kokomo in front of all your super rich buddies?"

"Yeah, what's wrong with it?" he asked with a little concerned crease between his brows. The earnest look on his face had you melting on the spot.

"Nothing," you said softly. You swiped your thumb over his frown, smoothing it out before stretching onto your tiptoes to kiss the corner of his mouth. "We can dance to Kokomo, I think it's perfect."

His lips captured yours before you could pull away, forcing you to sway back and forth on the balls of your feet with your chest against his. In the background, you could hear the final few lyrics of the song fade out, a new one starting right on its heels. It was a faster tempo, but Joel kept you both moving slow, your hips pressed together while his tongue pushed languidly into your mouth. He tasted sweet, like coconut and pineapple with just the faintest hint of rum.

You made a pleased little sound in the back of your throat when you felt him begin to harden through his swim trunks. Pulling back and grinning when he chased after your lips, you wrapped your arms around the back of his neck and asked, "Getting all hot and bothered, Mr. Miller?"

"Don't know what you're talkin' 'bout," he insisted, lips finding a home on your neck. "You're lookin' a little warm, though," he added, tilting his head and switching to the other side of your throat. Your eyelids fluttered when his teeth grazed your pulse point. "Maybe it's you who's feelin' hot?"

You swallowed tightly before answering.

"It's really hot," you whispered.

"What is?" Joel asked, lips puckering around your skin, leaving a trail of wet kisses in his wake.

"The s-sun," you stammered. Obviously. But both of you were beginning to forget what you were talking about.

Joel hummed and walked you backwards a step or two, his arms wrapped around you tightly, preventing you from tripping.

Or so you thought.

"I got just the thing for that."

"Huh?" you asked hazily with your eyes still closed and your fingers getting tangled in his hair. But before you even had a chance to scream, Joel twisted around, tightened his grip around your waist, and jumped backwards into the pool, pulling you down with him.

The water was heated but it was still a shock to the system. You screeched underwater and kicked away, propelling yourself out of his arms and to the surface for air. You gasped and snapped your eyes open, hair plastered to your face as you whipped back and forth until Joel emerged from the water, laughing and reaching for you again.

"Oh, I don't think so!" you exclaimed, and before he could get his hands on you, you kicked off the wall of the pool, giving yourself the advantage and swimming away.

Your fingers grazed the railing of the steps. You were so close, but then Joel's hand wrapped around your ankle, tugging you back across the water as you screamed and giggled until he had you flipped around, lifting you up so he could wrap his arms and legs around you, immobilizing you completely.

"Where y'goin', baby?" he breathed, "Don't it feel good?"

Panting, you gazed up at him through your wet lashes. He looked so genuinely happy and at ease, it took your breath away. You couldn't stop admiring him; the sparkle in his eye, the dimple in his cheek, his broad shoulders... but the way the sun glittered on his tanned skin made you finally stop struggling. When he felt your muscles relax, his grip loosened.

"What?" he finally asked when you took too long to speak. You smiled and shook your head, then pulled him tighter again.

"How'd I get so lucky?" you whispered softly. He rolled his eyes and shook his head, deflecting the compliment, so instead you circled your arms around his neck and leaned in for a kiss. Under the water, his hands reached down to cup your ass, pulling you snug against his hips while you deepened the kiss with a moan.

Your chest felt light, heart tapping excitedly against your sternum with each touch and kiss. It was impossible to keep the smile from your face. How could you, when you were having the time of your life in paradise with the man who you planned to spend the rest of your life with?

"Speaking of—" Joel said breathlessly when he broke away. He massaged you underwater, fingers greedily stretching so he could grab as much of your ass as possible. Your eyes followed a drop of water that trickled from his hair and down the side of his face and you licked your lips. "Am I 'bout to get lucky, or what?"

"Here?" you questioned, but he just smirked and nodded.

"Why not? No one can see us."

You bit your lip and glanced around, trying not to let his roaming hands and his hot mouth on your neck distract you. He was right - there weren't any other guests in the hotel but even if there had been, the gardens and natural fauna surrounding the patio were too thick to see through.

Joel nipped at your throat, teeth gently pinching your wet skin and you sighed, relaxing into his hold. "O-okay," you whispered.

"Atta girl," Joel chuckled before swinging you around in the pool so your back was pressed against the side. Fortunately, it was the side facing the ocean. There was no concrete lip behind you so as to mimic the water merging with the horizon. It allowed you to comfortably rest your weight on your elbows, which were perched on the smooth tile edge, and lean back so Joel could pull your bikini bottoms off.

Before you met, Joel would never have been caught dead blowing off work in the middle of the day. He practically worked around the clock, his only focus in life being his company and what he could do to become more successful. But now, his focus remained firmly planted on you. Even back home, it didn't matter how busy he was, in the back of his mind he always thought of you, finding comfort in knowing you were somewhere in the building and just a phone call away.

But having you within arms reach in the middle of paradise proved to be harder for him to resist than he thought.

Just as quickly as he shed you of your swimsuit, he was back with one hand pressing flat against your spine, pushing your bodies together while his mouth continued to suck on your neck. Underwater, your legs wrapped around his waist, the movement feeling like quicksand, but you weren't sure if it was the buoyancy or the desire coursing through your veins that had you feeling sluggish.

Joel's hand dropped between you, fingers quickly undoing the tie on his shorts so he could loosen them around his hips. Meanwhile, his mouth found yours again, kissing you with a deep groan when his tongue slipped past your lips.

The pad of his finger caught on your clit, making you whine as the familiar heat bloomed between your legs. Your hips rolled forward, chasing his hand, wordlessly asking for more. A sly smile pulled across his mouth and then he tore himself away, fingers still teasing featherlight strokes along your slit.

"I'll be right back," he said, pushing off the wall.

"Wh- what?" you stammered, eyelids fluttering. Joel took a deep breath then disappeared below the water and before you had a chance to process what was happening, his hands wrapped around your thighs and pulled you onto his mouth.

"Shit!" you cried out when you felt his hot tongue gliding through your lips. He ate at you messily underwater, knowing he would soon have to return for air left him unable to take his time and savor it like he normally would.

A flash of heat seared through you, a lightning bolt from the center of your legs that reached to every nerve ending in your body. Something about feeling weightless and having the ability to relax your muscles entirely while Joel alternated between fucking you with his tongue and sucking on your clit had you shaking in a matter of seconds.

When he tore himself away and crashed through the surface of the water with a frantic gasp for air, you had the audacity to pout. You whined his name and writhed against the side of the pool, causing him to smirk amidst catching his breath.

"What is it, baby?"

"You can't do that. That's teasing," you grumbled. He caught his lower lip between his teeth and grabbed your thighs underwater, spreading them apart roughly before growling, "Did I say I was done?"

He had about half a second to clock the delight in your face before he inhaled deeply and dove back under. His mouth seared against your pussy immediately, tongue probing and licking desperately until he needed more air.

It was a new sensation, being brought to the edge just to be pulled back when he needed to breathe. It had you clawing at his shoulders and murmuring filth in his ear every time he came up to recover, but you couldn't help yourself. Your ears were ringing and your body felt like every nerve ending was frayed whenever he tore his mouth away, but thankfully after being toyed with one too many times, his hand took the place of his mouth when he emerged.

"Fuck, look at you," he groaned, fingers working quickly under the water. Two thrusted inside you, curling and stretching while the heel of his palm massaged your clit. His free arm came to rest on the ledge behind you so his entire body ended up caging you in. When you peeled your eyes open, mouth agape and mind blurry, all you could see was Joel towering over you.

"Need you to come for me," he ground out through clenched teeth. "Need to fuck you, baby, c'mon, lemme see it."

Water splashed lightly near your shoulder from how fast Joel was working his wrist between your legs. It only took a few more slaps of his palm against your clit before your muscles tensed and your eyes rolled back with a low moan. Your hips rocked forward and you gasped as each wave of your climax shuddered through you, all the while crumbling under Joel's intense stare.

"That's it — feels good, huh?" Joel's lips found the underside of your jaw and began sucking lightly at your skin. "Pussy's so tight, squeezin' me so fuckin' good... that's it, you're alright, shh, so pretty like this. So fuckin' pretty—"

His mouth crashed over yours, silencing his ramblings and your moans until you relaxed and he slowly removed his fingers.

"Joel," you whimpered, chest heaving and heart racing. You reached for him, a trembling hand searching for him under the water, needing him just as badly as you needed oxygen in your lungs.

One leg hooked around his waist and a hand cupped the back of his neck. You felt delirious; lost entirely to the feeling only Joel was able to create. Everything about him, you loved. You loved how he knew you so well, in every way imaginable. You loved how he took care of you, protected you, worshiped you. All of those reasons and more told you he was the man you should spend the rest of your life with.

And if that wasn't enough, he somehow always managed to drag the most intense pleasure from you. He knew what you needed without you having to ask, undoing you every single time.

"Sure you're ready?" Joel breathed shakily, but he was already lining himself up, chin tucked into his chest, eyes peering through the water. You nodded and swallowed, fingers tightening around the back of his neck.

You felt him there, swollen tip resting against your opening, and you held your breath. Both of his hands held your hips steady, keeping you in place, and then his eyes flickered up to yours. All you saw reflected back was utter devotion when he pushed inside, each of you gasping in unison. You refused to look away, his dark eyes too magnetic, as his hands pulled you down onto his cock, nice and slow. He held your gaze until your hips sat flushed with his and he released you in favor of cupping your face. His mouth slanted over yours, nipping desperately at your lower lip while you fluttered and pulsed around him.

"How's that, huh?" His hips shifted, stretching you open and reaching the furthest depths of you. Your back arched off the side of the pool, gasping into his mouth.

"Fuck," you whined around the messy kisses Joel was peppering against your lips.

"Feel all of me in there?" He rolled his hips deliberately, touching lightly against a spot that had you grappling feverishly at the slippery curls on the back of his head.

"Fuck," you cursed again, "yeah. More, Joel, please."

"Yeah? Think you can handle it?" he asked, his mouth dropping to your chin, then your jaw. "Think this perfect fuckin' pussy can take it?"

You couldn't answer. All you could do was whimper pathetically, each snap of his hips driving the air straight from your lungs. But he didn't mind, because he was already too lost in the feel of you to demand an answer.

"You got no idea—" Joel grunted, slowing his hips when he felt himself nearing his peak too soon. He shifted his weight, wrapped an arm around the curve of your back under the water, and took a moment to catch his breath. "—you got no idea how fuckin' crazy you make me," he finished, staring deep into your eyes.

Your leg tightened around his waist and you leaned forward, grazing your teeth lightly over his throat when you said, "Crazy enough to fuck me in a pool on a Wednesday afternoon."

Joel growled, the sound vibrating against your lips. "You like this, don't you? You like gettin' me so hard 'n worked up, I can barely think."

You thought you managed to whisper out a yes, but you couldn't be sure because a second later, Joel was pounding into you again. Water splashed up, dotting both your faces and lips with little droplets. One strong arm pinned you roughly to his chest, and the other protected the back of your head from the tile, completely immobilizing you. Your open mouths hovered inches apart, leaving just enough room for your shared grunts and moans to escape, each devastating thrust bringing you both closer to the edge.

"Oh, f-fuck," you stammered, body jolting violently in his grip from the force of his hips slamming into you. His jaw tightened, brow furrowing as he fought back his own climax. You were close, he could feel it. He just needed to give you a little more.

"Don't stop," you begged, and Joel shook his head, stomach tensing with the need to let go. A strangled noise made its way past your lips and you feverishly clutched the sides of his head. "Kiss me," you pleaded.

His mouth crashed against yours, tongue sliding past your lips, and all the while he maintained that same, steady pace underwater. There was a moment where he thought he might not be able to hold back any longer, but then he felt your body go rigid and a broken version of his name tumbled into his mouth. A second later, the sweet feeling of relief flooded his veins as he came, pumping you full of his seed while you both rode out the rest of your highs together.

Joel broke the kiss with a sharp gasp, then buried his face in the crook of your neck so he could catch his breath. Your fingers combed lovingly through his hair and you closed your eyes, basking in the sun and the afterglow of your orgasm with Joel still buried deep between your legs. His arms remained wrapped around you, as well, keeping you so close that your chests bumped together with every shaky breath. After several quiet minutes, Joel whispered your name, his soft way of checking in.

You swallowed, throat hoarse and dry. "Say it," you mumbled drowsily. You felt his lips twitch against your neck.

"I love you."

A slow smile stretched across your face and you sighed.

"I love you, too."

The drive to Glenn and Mary's mansion brought back so many memories. Nerves, excitement, and anticipation filled you the first time, hoping you would do a good job at selling your fake engagement so Joel would appear relatable to Glenn and therefore make him look like the best choice to purchase the land for the hotel. Then afterwards, uneasiness and pangs of jealousy once you found out that Joel used to carry on an affair with another hotel mogul's wife, Tammy.

This time was different. Now, you were legitimately Joel's fiancée and madly in love. No more secrets, no more feelings of betrayal. You couldn't have been any happier.

"I'm looking forward to seeing them again," you told Joel. He sat next to you in the backseat of the town car, your left hand engulfed by his across the middle seat. His thumb distractedly played with the huge diamond on your ring finger and he smiled.

"Should be nice. Just them, Trevor and Zoe," he recapped.

Zoe. You were so excited to see your old friend, a port in the storm the last time you were on the island. She was young, beautiful, carefree and a former sugarbaby. While you hid that part of your history from everyone — with the exception of Joel's trusted assistant, Liam — Zoe had told you her secret in confidence early on in your trip. As much as you wanted to share with her your own background, you knew how detrimental it would be to Joel, so you kept your mouth shut. Still, Zoe turned out to be an incredible friend. She was there the night Brooks — Glenn and Mary's son —assaulted you in a restaurant bathroom. She took care of you until Joel arrived that night. She also had your back when Tammy and Lynne accused you of being a gold digger during a dinner party towards the end of your trip.

Needless to say, after the trip ended, you remained close friends. You were thrilled to find out she quit being a sugarbaby and found herself a boyfriend... none other than Glenn and Mary's other son, Trevor. Who actually didn't turn out to be that bad, compared to his brother.

"Much better group than last time," you said, squeezing Joel's hand.

He smirked and rolled his eyes, knowing full well you were referring to Tammy and her little sidekick, Lynne.

"Easy," he teased.

Glenn and Mary lived right on the beach in a stunning Mediterranean-style house which was surrounded by exotic plants and meticulously maintained gardens, a home that still took your breath away whenever you saw it.

When your car pulled up, you could see all the lights on inside, and when the chauffeur opened your door and you stepped out, you could hear the soft sounds of music echoing from the backyard.

"They must be on the patio," you said to Joel, looping your hand through his arm and allowing him to lead you to the front door.

"They do love their view," he murmured.

A man you didn't recognize but who appeared to be part of the catering service opened the door for you with the offer of champagne. You each took a flute before heading through the familiar, grandiose foyer. The kitchen and dining areas were silent except for the staff furiously working away. Your gaze drifted to look through the glass that lead out to their gorgeous pool area, spotting four familiar faces smiling and laughing around the outdoor bar. When Zoe turned her head and locked eyes with you through the windows, her face lit up. Yours must have done the same because you immediately dropped Joel's arm and squealed excitedly.

Hurrying outside, you ran to meet Zoe halfway, then threw your arms around each other's necks, swaying back and forth and murmuring compliments in the other's ear while trying to simultaneously not spill your drinks.

"Your hair! It's so long!" you gushed when you pulled away. Your fingers idly slid down her shiny locks with a smile so wide, your cheeks hurt. "And this dress! Oh my god—"

"You should talk! You're practically glowing!" Zoe beamed right back before snatching your right hand to hold it up to the dim garden lighting. "Or is it this massive fucking rock?"

She whispered the last part so none of the others heard. They had come forward to greet Joel while you and Zoe got reacquainted, fortunately buying you an extra minute to come up with some excuse as to why you had two engagement rings.

"Oh, this?" you laughed, stretching your fingers out so you could both admire it. "Joel thought he owed me another one since it's taken us so long to get married."

"Goddamn, Joel. You are one smart man," Glenn bellowed behind you. You swiveled around with a huge grin so you could give Glenn, Mary, and Trevor each a warm hug. When you were about to step away, Mary tsked and held out her hand, so you placed your right palm in hers while they got a good look at your new ring.

"Felt bad that storm set construction back a few weeks," Joel explained, quickly rolling with your story. He curled an arm around your waist when everyone was done admiring your ring, tucking you into his side. "Caused a headache with the wedding planner. Y'know how it is."

"I always told you — happy wife, happy life," Glenn chuckled before waving everyone over to the appetizers, which had just been set out near the bar. "C'mon, dig in. Then I wanna hear all about the soft open."

Joel opened his mouth to reply when a man's familiar sounding drawl rang out behind you.

"Oh, well, what do you know? We just came from there, I can tell you all about it."

Your body reacted before your brain had a chance to figure out what was happening. The hairs on your arms stood up and your heart felt like it was lodged in your throat.

You knew that voice.

"Scott! Didn't think you were comin' in til later!" Glenn called out cheerily. Zoe's hand found your forearm and she gave it a reassuring squeeze. Then, Joel murmured something in your ear but your blood was pumping so fast and loud, you couldn't hear him. Because if Scott was there, that meant...

"Tammy!" Mary sang, raising her arms above her head with a sweet smile. She didn't notice your reaction, neither did Glenn. They were too busy giving them both hugs and murmuring something to them about the weather.

Joel tried to get your attention again but you felt frozen in place. Zoe released your arm, whispered breathe in your ear, then followed Trevor over to greet them next.

"C'mon, let's just get through this," Joel urged, and you blinked before snapping your head to look at him.

"Did you—"

"No."

You exhaled in relief. It was a surprise, Joel didn't know they were coming. Still...

"Get over here, you son of a bitch," Scott laughed, tapping Joel on his shoulder. He let you go and plastered a polite smile across his face before giving him a hug. He hesitated for half a second, then gave Tammy a quick kiss on the cheek. You knew he had to do it. It would have looked weird if he didn't. But it still had your claws coming out, so you tucked your hand behind your back, squeezing your fingers into a tight fist to release some anger.

Tammy's eyes landed on you and she gave you a fake smile, murmured your name, and stiffly leaned forward to kiss you on the cheek. It took everything in your power to move, to press your cheek against hers, to say nice to see you and act like either of you meant it.

You broke apart quickly, each of you avoiding eye contact and retreating back to your partners. Joel wrapped an arm around your waist, his fingers pressed into your hip, wordlessly trying to soothe you, to tell you it was okay. With your cheeks hot, you caught Zoe's eye. She looked just as taken aback as you.

"Did you, uh, say you were at The Parador?" Joel asked. He sounded guarded, like he was bracing for something. He must have already connected the dots and for some reason, you were lagging, because Scott nodded and announced the obvious.

"We were lucky enough to get one of the rooms for the soft open." Scott tossed Joel a grin while lacing his fingers together with his wife's. "Don't worry. We won't be too harsh in our review. Right, honey?" he joked.

Scott looked down at Tammy who batted her lashes and nodded.

"That's right. We know there's bumps to iron out when a new location opens up. We understand the business."

Scott owned his own chain of hotels and was in contention to win the plot of land Joel ended up getting on the island, so they were no stranger to the hospitality industry. But as nice as Scott was, at the end of the day, Joel was a competitor and he won something Scott couldn't have. It had your gut twisting nervously by Joel's side.

"Well, if somethin' doesn't meet your standards, you let me know immediately," Joel responded. You had to give him credit, he was handling the turn of events much better than you were, but something told you he would be expressing his true thoughts on the matter in the car later.

The only saving grace all evening happened when Scott and Tammy chose to sit at the opposite end of the table from you and Joel. It afforded you a chance to get your bearings and breathe.

"I didn't know," Zoe whispered before you could even ask. "I heard they had a layover on their way to Australia, but I didn't think they'd be stopping here."

"It's fine," you mumbled, picking at the fish on your plate. "Maybe they're just saying long enough to see Glenn and Mary."

You were wrong.

By the time your plates were cleared and dessert was being served, the topic of Scott and Tammy's unexpected arrival finally came up.

"Australia? What's taking the two of you there?" Mary asked. Candlelight that decorated the table flickered across her face, making her dark hair shimmer. She was beautiful and always very sweet. Even after your altercation with Brooks, both she and Glenn stood by your side and made the difficult decision to send their son off to rehab on a neighboring island. You were grateful for their kindness and generosity towards you during your last stay, but you had to admit, you were envious of how absolutely clueless she and her husband were about the dynamics at their table. You couldn't be certain about Trevor, but considering Zoe knew all the drama with Tammy, you had to assume the only people at the table who were in the dark were Glenn, Mary and Scott.

"Thought we'd take some time off down uhnda," Scott laughed, "Figured we deserved a little break. Hotels have been doing great but it's cost me a lot of late nights. So, we planned a little trip, just the two of us. But when we realized The Parador was about to have its grand open? Well," he breathed, locking eyes with Joel. "Couldn't miss that, now could we?"

"The boys were beside themselves but I told them when they graduate college, we'll consider taking them somewhere of their choosing," Tammy cooed, swirling her crystal wine glass in her hand. "That is, if their grades reflect the hard work they claim they're putting in."

"You sure you ain't lookin' to expand in Australia?" Glenn asked coyly. Scott gave him a sly smirk and shrugged.

"Who's to say."

Tammy scoffed and playfully swat at his shoulder. "No business, you promised!"

While the men laughed, you and Zoe exchanged glances and focused on your plates. Scott, to your knowledge, never knew Tammy had an affair with Joel all those years ago. So to watch them act so sickeningly sweet and in love irked you both. Especially when Joel confessed to you that Tammy had developed strong feelings for him during their tryst.

"When do your parents get in?" Zoe asked softly, but Mary overheard anyway and perked up.

"Oh! Your parents? That's lovely! They must be coming to help you plan the wedding!"

You nodded, feeling your cheeks warm when the entire table dragged their focus onto you.

"Yes, they arrive late tonight, actually," you responded. "They'll help a bit, but they aren't the type to take vacations, well... ever, really. So it was Joel's idea to get them out here and relax for once."

Joel smiled and his hand found yours underneath the table. He gave you a gentle squeeze, soothing your frayed nerves.

"Well, that's thoughtful. We all oughta go out to dinner before they leave," Glenn suggested. You swallowed tightly and nodded before Zoe swooped in.

"Mary! I forgot to tell you... we went to that new restaurant the other day."

"Ocean Terrace? How was it?"

And just like that, the attention shifted to Zoe and Trevor as they told the table about a horrendous dining experience.

"Dinner's almost over," Joel assured you quietly. You met his gaze, his dark eyes glittering in the dim lighting making your chest tighten with affection. "We'll make up some excuse not to get dinner with 'em again, don't worry."

You let out a shaky breath and nodded. You could do this. Besides, what could Tammy possibly do that hasn't already been done? She was a mood killer at that point and nothing more.

Your shoulders relaxed after your plates were cleared and people began to stand. Scott mentioned something about jet lag and Joel made an exaggerated yawn before making a comment about having an early meeting.

Zoe pulled you in for a hug and murmured in your ear about getting lunch. You told her you wanted to spend some time with your parents the next day, but promised to text her and set something up after. Then you gave Trevor a quick hug, which resulted in an avalanche of farewells and polite pecks on cheeks.

Joel was leading you through the house, back the way you came. Every step made you breathe a little easier until Glenn suddenly jogged up behind you.

"Joel? You got a quick minute?"

Joel's eyes flickered between yours and Glenn's, confusion etching his face before he nodded and let go of your hand.

"I'll meet you in the car."

You didn't think anything of it. Figured it was business related; that maybe Glenn wanted to book a few villas for friends or maybe host an event in one of the ballrooms. You took out your phone after you settled into your seat and opened a text from your mother, letting you know they safely landed and that they were checking into their hotel. You tapped out a quick response, telling her you would call them the next day and advised them to get some rest when Joel slipped into the backseat. His lips were pressed into a thin line and his brows pulled tight. You quickly dropped your phone back into your purse when you sensed the tension rolling off his shoulders.

"What's wrong?"

He didn't answer right away. Instead, his hand found the button for the partition. You could hear the little motor whirring as it slowly closed, giving you privacy from the driver as he drove down the empty streets, back to The Parador.

Even in the dim ambient lighting from the ceiling, you could read Joel's face. He was pissed.

"Joel?" you tried again. His jaw tensed and your eyes dropped to his knee, which was bouncing anxiously as he mulled over whatever Glenn had just said. Then finally, he forced his gaze onto you and your stomach dropped when he said, "Brooks is outta rehab. Been back on the island for a week, and—" he bit the inside of his cheek before huffing in disbelief and shaking his head. "—and he wants to see you. Says he's got somethin' important he wants to say. Glenn thinks he plans to apologize. Make amends or some shit. Part of some program..." he trailed off and pinched the bridge of his nose with a sigh while you remained frozen, unable to tear your eyes away from the cut of Joel's jaw.

"What?" you whispered. Joel heard the tremor in your voice. He quickly turned his focus back onto you, taking your hand in both of his and drawing soothing circles on your knuckles with the pad of his thumb.

"It's fine. He ain't comin' anywhere near you, y'hear me?"

You nodded because it was all you could manage to do. Your throat was too tight to speak. This was all too much—

"I don't care what they say. He's their kid, 'course they're gonna believe him when he says he ain't using," Joel muttered. You cleared your throat and took a breath.

"Well... maybe he is—"

"Ain't up for discussion," Joel said coldly, cutting you off. Goosebumps flashed across your skin at his tone. "If it's that important, he can call or write a letter or some shit. He ain't ever gonna lay a hand on you again."

You nodded and clamped your mouth shut. It wasn't often Joel put his foot down, and considering what happened last time, he had every right to be suspicious and on edge. Besides — you weren't interested in seeing him. Only just morbidly curious.

The rest of the drive was quiet. He kept your hand on his leg, his warm palm pressing comfortingly against yours while you both stared out your respective windows, lost in thought.

Foolishly, you thought it was over; that the universe had thrown you enough curveballs for one night.

When Joel swung the door open to your villa, the room was dark. He stepped inside and began to flick on all the lights, leaving you to close and lock the door behind you. Somewhere in the master bedroom, you heard the curtains closing, but your gaze had fallen to a crisp white envelope under your shoe. You frowned, eyes darting from the envelope to the door, then leaned down to pick it up.

You flipped it over in your hands: it was sealed and not addressed to anybody.

"I'm gonna shower," Joel called from the bathroom.

"Okay," you answered distractedly. You heard the water turn on as you wandered into the kitchen, studying the envelope while trying to remember if Joel had mentioned he was expecting anything.

Curiosity eventually got the best of you and you ripped it open. Inside was just one white piece of common printer paper with four simple words staining the page, yet those four words made your blood run cold and dread settle over you like a blanket of snow:

I know your secret.

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spiritedstars · 2 days ago

Text

Spirit Meets the Bones [Epilogue]

Genre: Angst/Romance/Drama Author’s Note: I am very very emotional posting this. Writing this fic drove me crazy in the best way and I'm really proud of it. I loved telling Eris x Iris's story. Thank you for reading. Thank you for tagging along on this long journey. Thank you for loving Eiris the way I do!

In case you missed it, I commissioned a royal portrait of Eiris! Check it out here.

The biggest thank you will always go to @riorsonxaden because without you being my support, bouncing ideas with me, and always taking time to read each chapter and give me your feedback, I wouldn't be posting this or as satisfied with it as I am. Thank you. I love you.

tagging: @climb-the-mountian / @gwynberdara / @positivewitch / @animezinglife / @zenkindoflove / @rosewood-cafe / @clockwork-ashes / @carnythian / @secret-third-thing / @runningwiththeoceans / @that-golden-lyre / @thedarkinmansfield / @readychilledwine / @goldenmagnolias / @mali22 / @readthelastpaage / @maidr-00 / @electromagnetic-waves / @moobell55 / @bibliophiliaxvignette / @devilsfoodcake22 / @weesablackbeak / @ladywhilemia / @alohaangels / @feysandfeels / @corcracrow / @dawneternal / @gracie-rosee / @mage-neve / @illyrianvalkyrie / @saint-stella / @carolynmezzosoprano / @rainbowsnowflake / @queenoftheworld1998 / @wolvesnravens / @lalaluch / @moonfawnx / @temperedink / @batboyslutt / @rcarbo1 /

Find it all here.

Six Months Later.

Eris stood in his study, glancing out the window with a whisky in hand, soaking up the last moments of quiet he’d have for the rest of the day.

Today was the day.

Dressed in a fitted forest green suit, his crown resting on his head, the High Lord of the Autumn Court allowed himself a small smile. The lapel Iris had gifted him was pinned neatly to his jacket, and Eris was only a little nervous—but for once in his life, it was a good kind of nervousness.

He was getting married. Again.

After the night of the battle, it was well into the morning before they had a moment to rest. They had all been exhausted and worn and desperately needed time to heal properly. Iris’s wounds had reopened, and Eris had gone through the agony of watching her recover from them. The scars had left faint marks, and though it had crushed Eris to see her beautiful skin be marred in such a way, Iris had only knocked her shoulder against his and said, “We’re more of a perfect match now.”

Even distracted with all his new duties as High Lord, Eris had driven those around him nearly insane while Iris healed. He had waited until Nevien had given him a very exasperated all-clear to touch his wife in the way he had been craving to, and Eris had made love to his mate in a way that still had Iris turning bright red whenever she thought about it.

It had been as filthy as Eris had wanted.

After that particular rigorous night, Eris had met her gaze, his hand stroking her bare skin, and said, “Let’s get married. Our way this time.”

Iris had only kissed him in response.

And now, he was getting married to the love of his life. His mate.

As he planned for their wedding, Eris found that slipping into his role as High Lord had been smoother than anticipated.

While a new court required a new council, new rules, and considerable follow-through, for Eris, who had already handled much of his father’s affairs, being High Lord was like breathing.

Eris had spent that first week as High Lord cleaning out those in his father’s pocket, giving them two choices: change or death. Though they remained under constant scrutiny, many had been intelligent enough to choose the former. For those that hadn’t made the right choice, Eris had unleashed his brothers, their hunt serving as a reminder, that though they may not be their father, they knew exactly how to make things hurt.

Iris’s father had been the only person who had no choice in what happened to him. He had barely survived his daughter’s wrath, but Iris had ensured he hadn’t died too quickly. She had requested a public hanging after he was displayed for a week in the heart of the court—no healing permitted. When the day finally came for Aron’s execution, Iris watched her father’s corpse struggle against the rope as it tightened around his neck, floundering for air until his body went limp. She had felt no remorse.

He had been left to hang on the flagpole for all to see, the marks and blood from the battle still visible. It was a message and a decree in their new court; an abuser had no place here.

While change was never easy and most of his people welcomed him warmly, there was trepidation. People were hopeful and yet, scared. Worried it was all a joke – a dream – a test to weed out traitors against the crown. And Eris understood it. He had lived this uncertainty and while he hadn’t suddenly turned into a saint, he granted them patience. He gave them a calmness he had yearned for the Autumn Court to have.

This started with the Forest House. Eris had tested his new magic while morphing the House into a home. He wanted to wipe away his father’s touch from every inch and slowly but surely, it began to look different. To feel different.

Within Autumn, their people were united. Outside of their court, their reputation as cutthroat remained. As a new leader – Eris did not want to give anyone the idea that Autumn would be an easy target. He had quickly connected with the other courts, setting the precedent for networking with the Autumn Court; his wretched father had stifled them, but Eris had endless ideas for inter-court connections and trade. He was eager for more. For better.

His brothers had joined his council, each taking a more active role in managing their court, and for the first time in his life, Eris didn’t feel so alone.

While they didn’t always see eye to eye and meetings had sometimes gotten heated, in the end, they all had the same goal – to do better. To be better. It didn’t erase their past but they were family. The word actually meant something now.

It took his mother some time to visit her old home, but every time she did, Eris’s chest ached in a way he hadn’t expected, to see her roam the halls of the Forest House with a smile on her face—happy. The High Lord of Day had been gracious enough to give Eris some time before shouting his mating bond for the world to hear; a month after Eris became High Lord, Helion claimed her as his mate and they’ve been in bliss since. Lucien began visiting Autumn and was greeted with a warm welcome every time. Though he still wasn’t always comfortable, Elain’s excitement to explore the court and bond with his family made up for it.

Izak and Helene had decided to stay in their home within their community, but Eris still had a suite ready for them whenever they wished to stay. It felt strange to watch his sister-in-law’s pregnancy, to know that the first baby Vanserra was on the way. Eris still sent her a gift now and then to make up for their first meeting.

With no hesitation, Cosette had moved into Emil’s suite within the Forest House, as did Theo with Finn. The two had bonded, forcing Emil and Finn to spend more time together than they were used to, and it had been very amusing for Eris to watch. Until Iris also forced him to be there and suddenly, he was not so very amused.

Three months after that, and after the transition of their court had calmed just slightly, Eris had planned the perfect wedding. It would be a small, intimate affair with only family and friends with delicious food, good music, and by the end of the night, he would be fucking his wife on his new throne.

His small smile widened into a smirk as he pictured his beautiful wife melting beneath his touch.

Gods, was he excited.

A knock on his office door had Eris turning. He drained his drink and set it on his desk before saying, “Come in.”

Finn poked his head in through the door and much to Eris’s annoyance, gave a wolf whistle. “Damn brother, you do clean up nice.”

Eris rolled his eyes as his brothers filed in and he gestured for Lucien to close the door behind him, a shield reinforcing it. “For once in your life, you seem to look decent yourself.” His eyes swept over each of his brothers. Indeed, each of them was dressed impeccably. He barely recognized Izak. “Surprisingly, you all do.”

“I don’t know why you’re surprised about me,” Lucien said dryly. “I always dress well. And maybe Emil. It’s the other two who look like hooligans all the time.”

“Ah, fuck off. I look great walking around like a damn dream.” Finn immediately protested.

“I’m not a hooligan,” Izak said in offense. “I dress appropriately for my job.”

“What I assume Lucien means is the general air of peasant you both give off.” Emil quipped with a small smirk. “Unfortunately, if there is a stench, you two are the first people will look to.”

Lucien choked back a laugh and Eris sighed when Finn and Izak broke out into an argument.

“We’ll see who gets the last laugh when I flirt with Elain and Cosette so hard –”

“Leave my mate out of this.”

“I will skin you alive –”

“When will you realize no one likes it when you flirt with them?” Izak added with a snort. “You suck at it.”

“It’s not the only thing he sucks,” Lucien replied and the cackles broke out again as Finn let out a growl.

“Oy!”

“To be fair, Izak, Helene doesn’t seem to mind his presence as much,” Emil said and eyed Izak with that obnoxious smirk. “He seems to be craving a little female time. Are you aware of this? I think we might need to inform Theo.”

Izak glared at Emil. “And what the hell is that supposed to mean? Are you accusing my pregnant wife of something?”

“No, I’m accusing your brother of being a home wrecker.”

“I have not wrecked any homes, you fuckers.”

“So the rumors about you being people’s third are false?”

“How the fuck would you hear about that, Lucien?”

“Same way I hear about everyone’s nonsense. Your slutty lives are local news.”

“Oy, I’ve been with one female for years.”

“None of those rumors are ever about you, Izak. No one wants you.” Finn said and smiled the way he knew would make his brothers see red. “But don’t worry, Helene and I already have a plan to work things out once you kick the bucket.” He glanced at Emil and pointed. “The same way Cosette and I do.” Then pointed to Eris. “The same way Iris and I do.” And lastly, pointed to Lucien. “You don’t let me near Elain enough but I’m working on charming her. I can’t wait to talk flowers with her. I’m suddenly itching to start my own garden.”

And before the room could explode, Eris took a deep breath and allowed his magic to swat each of his brothers across the head, hard. Ignoring their outrage, he held up his hands for silence and finally addressed them. “This is exactly why I asked you all to be here. There will be absolutely no fighting at my wedding, do you understand?”

Finn opened his mouth and Eris shot him a look. “No bringing up significant others.” He glared at Emil. “No instigating fights with baseless rumors.” He pointed at Izak. “No getting offended every time someone mentions your damn wife.” And lastly, he gave Lucien an exasperated look. “No adding fuel to the fire of an already ridiculous argument.”

Addressing them all at once, he said firmly. “No fighting.”

“But –”

“It wasn’t even –”

“I have nothing to do with –”

“I’m barely tolerating being here –”

A muscle twitched in Eris’s jaw and the room heated as he forced himself to take another breath and smooth down his suit jacket. “Today is my wedding day. An event I have perfectly planned to celebrate my wife and I,” he said, forcing himself to remain calm as he glanced at his brother’s stupid faces. “Iris is very excited and I will not have any of your bullshit annoying her in any way. So.”

He stepped in front of Emil who was clearly fighting a laugh and pointed. “No fighting.”

Stepping to Finn, Eris fought hard not to punch the smug expression right off his face and pointed a little more threateningly. “No – fucken – fighting.”

He moved to Izak and Lucien, the former, who held up his hands as though he was an innocent bystander in all of this, and the latter shrugging his shoulders with no care in the world. It annoyed Eris even further as he pointed between them and said again, “No – fighting.”

Turning in the room and addressing all of them at once, “There will be no – fucken – fighting or so help me, Iris will have your throats and I’ll have the hounds eat whatever she leaves of you.”

“Damn, she’d get vicious on her wedding day?” Izak said with a whistle.

“She has a knife strapped to her as we speak and will use it as she sees fit.”

“Kinky.” Finn said in an annoyingly singsong voice that made Eris want to choke him where he stood.

“Match made in heaven, you two.” Lucien added with a snort and Eris grunted.

“That’s right and I have no issues stabbing you myself if I have to,” he swore. “Behave yourselves.”

“Will you cry when she walks in?” Emil asked, mockingly putting a hand over his heart. “I don’t know if I will be able to hold back from succumbing to tears myself if you do.”

“I cannot believe you’re my biggest problem today,” Eris said with a glare at his usually quieter brother. “Fuck off.”

Pointing threateningly one last time, he confirmed, “Am I clear, assholes?”

They all grumbled their agreements and as they stood together in the room, Eris eyed them wearily then shook his head.

They were alright. They had earned this.

Without waiting for Eris’s permission, Emil moved around his brother, grabbed the bottle on his desk, and magicked each of them a drink.

“Since you’re done threatening us, I’d like to propose a toast,” Emil began, giving Eris a more genuine smile. “To our big brother and High Lord,” he continued, “We weren’t invited to your last wedding and are only mildly inconvenienced to celebrate this one with you.” Holding up his glass as Eris rolled his eyes. “May your union be blessed. To Eris and Iris.”

Each of his other brothers raised their glasses and repeated, “To Eris and Iris.”

And as Eris brought the glass to his mouth, Finn had the audacity to add, “And to their firstborn child who will absolutely be named after me. Cheers!”

Eris could only bring himself to sigh. He did it so often these days.

Once the wedding began, nothing else mattered to Eris other than getting to the part where he’d see and then promptly kiss his wife. It had been hours since she had woken him up this morning, sliding her body over his, and they had almost been late for wedding prep.

It had been a fantastic way to start the day, and it was how they started most days. He couldn’t get enough of touching her—of being with her as openly as he could be. Through every change, Iris walked with him, hand in hand, equal in responsibilities, and it made his chest ache to know she actually cared about what happened to their court. Her support wasn’t for show.

Without a looming threat, Eris allowed himself to simply…feel. It disgusted him but he allowed it.

For so long, he had craved so desperately. Even as the desire to light himself on fire for actually letting his emotions be, Eris allowed it. He had earned it and his wife deserved it. She deserved all his feelings.

And so, Eris Vanserra let himself be in love. To truly, soak it in that his wife, his friend, and his mate was here, with him. Beautiful and loved him too.

There were many nights when Eris couldn’t sleep and would lie awake, simply staring at Iris curled up next to him, convincing himself that this was all real. That they had survived and they were finding happiness in this new normal. That he was happy and shouldn’t be afraid of the feeling.

How he had wished. How he had looked to the sky and begged and now…his prayers had finally been answered.

Eris wouldn’t take a second of it for granted.

And now, he stood at the tastefully decorated altar filled with Iris’s favorite flowers, impatiently waiting for her to walk in. They had set up the ceremony to take place in a smaller hall within the Forest House to keep it as private as possible.

His eyes swept the room, glancing at his idiotic brothers and their significant others sitting next to them. According to Lucien, they were all his groomsmen though Eris hadn’t asked; they grinned rather smugly with their matching boutonnieres that Eris had most certainly not picked out, and he crinkled his nose at how much resemblance there was between them seated like this. His mother sat with Helion, her hand resting in the crook of the High Lord’s arm and the rest of the seats were all filled with his closest friends.

This was the most relaxed he’d ever been at an event he was hosting and yet, Eris felt like he would lose his mind if he had to wait another minute for Iris to walk in.

Did a part of him cringe hard, knowing he was going to let himself appear ‘happy’ in front of people? Gods, yes. But was it worth it, for him to see Iris experience joy? That after all they had been through, they were getting to choose each other all over again? On their own terms? Absolutely.

A little embarrassment would be a small price to pay.

Was Eris also a little smug that he managed to plan this wedding to be on the exact day of their original anniversary? Very much so.

It was the same date a year later, and yet as the music finally started to play and he turned, his heart thumping wildly in his chest waiting for his wife to walk in, Eris marveled at the way time had passed and had shifted the tide.

He marveled at how this was his actual life now.

And when Iris walked in, she stole his breath all over again.

Iris slowly began her walk down the aisle towards her mate, her cheeks flushed happily as his twelve hounds bounced alongside her, dressed for the occasion. Her smile was warm and as her eyes scanned the room, she couldn’t help the slight shyness that crept on her knowing the people in this room were part of her life.

They were her family and friends. Something she wouldn’t have dreamed of having a year ago.

A year ago, she had been miserable and terrified of getting married to Eris. Now, she thought her chest would explode from the sheer amount of happiness she was feeling.

She felt beautiful, dressed in a custom-made gown — courtesy of her very involved husband — that made her feel elegant, poised, and exactly how the wife of the High Lord should look, holding Elain’s most stunning bouquet yet in her hands. She was adorned with the jewelry Eris had previously given her and a stunning tiara on her head that complimented her simple hairstyle.

And it made her body heat to see the way Eris was staring at her. Always intensely, always so hungrily – as if their hands hadn’t been all over each other just this morning.

When she finally reached him, Eris held out his hand for her to take. He carefully brought her up the step to stand across from him, and when their eyes met, the world went quiet.

Everything seemed to still as the weight of all they had endured this year sat between them. It felt so calm. So surreal, as husband and wife simply stared at each other. It felt surreal to stand there knowing that only by a twist of fate, they had found each other and their lives had intertwined.

Eris couldn’t stop staring at her. It made his heart ache to see her standing before him and smiling so brightly; he wanted to double over and it was through sheer force of will that he didn’t allow his expression to change – to display just how pathetically in love he was.

She was so beautiful and he couldn’t believe she was his.

All his.

“Hello, husband,” Iris whispered with a small smile and Eris’s lips twitched.

“Hello, wife,” he murmured.

“You should pick up your jaw off the floor. You’re drooling all over your fancy suit.” she teased but Eris shook his head, fighting against his expression shifting.

“Too late for that, I’m afraid.”

“How embarrassing for you.”

“How embarrassing for you. You’re the one marrying me. Again.” he tsked and Iris rolled her eyes and then let out a rather exaggerated sigh.

“What can I say, I couldn’t bring myself to leave my little pups.” she said, and Eris narrowed his eyes.

“Only the pups, hm?”

Iris shrugged playfully. “Well. I suppose there is one more lovesick pup I couldn’t bring myself to leave.”

“Careful now –”

A throat cleared and the two straightened, suddenly remembering where they were. Iris flushed deeply and Eris pursed his lips, glancing at the priestess standing before them who smiled sheepishly.

“I am ready whenever you are, my lord.”

Eris ignored the hoots and laughter of his annoying family and instead, kept his eyes on his wife. He had been foolish to think sharing this moment with others had been a good idea.

He should’ve kept it even more private. Just the two of them, alone. He never liked an audience to his emotions and Eris felt the back of his neck heat as everyone’s eyes were on them.

Yet – he watched as Iris smiled bashfully at their guests, earning her a few laughs, and Eris glanced down at her hand in his, her thumb caressing his soothingly…maybe it wasn’t so bad. He could pretend it was just the two of them.

She was the sun. Everything else was irrelevant.

“You look like you’re about to run out on me,” she teased in a whisper and squeezed his hand.

Eris shot her a look, squeezing her hand right back.

“We’ve only been here minutes and I already regret doing this,” he murmured with no real heat and when Iris furrowed her brows, Eris only sighed. “I don’t want to share this with others. Them.”

“Oy! Stop it with the googly eyes and get the party started!” Finn shouted and Eris’s head snapped to his brother with a glare.

“One more word out of you and I swear –”

But Iris laughed softly and tugged him back to her. “You can’t threaten your brother at our wedding.”

Eris snorted. “Oh yes, I can. I will slit his throat.”

“No, you won’t.”

“Iris –”

“You will not be hurting anyone at my wedding or I will be stabbing you.”

A different kind of heat rushed through his body and Eris knew his smirk told people too much.

He was deeply regretting this not being a private event.

“Don’t threaten me with a good time, wife.”

Iris turned to look at the priestess and sighed, “I don’t think I’ll be going through with this after all, I’m so sorry to have wasted your time.”

Eris’s smirk widened and then he tugged Iris closer to him. “As if I’d let you leave after all this.” He nodded to the priestess. “Please proceed.”

The priestess bit her lip, clearly fighting a laugh but then cleared her throat and began.

Eris heard nothing of what was said. All his senses focused on Iris, who smiled too knowingly at him. When it was finally time to exchange their rings once more, Iris surprised him with a new wedding band. With Eris’s style, she knew he’d prefer something that complemented everything he wore, so she had picked a simple hammered texture and engraved their initials on the inside.

“I couldn’t be the only one with a new ring.” she teased, slipping it onto his finger and Eris tried not to collapse as his heart thumped wildly. He couldn’t bring myself to say anything else, overwhelmed with all these fucken feelings clogged in his throat. He could only slide her ring on her finger and then place a soft kiss on her hand.

“Do you have vows you would like to share?” the priestess asked.

Eris and Iris glanced at each other. They had agreed that whatever vows they’d had would be between them so instead, Iris slanted her head slightly.

“No, but I do have a question,” she said, the corner of her mouth curling up. “A question for a question.”

Eris’s expression lit up in amusement. “A question for a question.”

“Do you agree to willingly tolerate me for the rest of our days, husband dear?”

The small laugh escaped him before he could stop it and Eris replied, “I do. Do you agree to willingly tolerate me for the rest of our days then, dearest wife?”

Iris hummed playfully, pretending to think until he lifted a brow and she conceded with a laugh. “I do.”

“I believe I was supposed to ask a similar question…” the priestess began but with a glance from Eris, she cleared her throat and continued, “No matter! With this exchange, your union has been blessed. May the Mother continue to fill your lives with peace, joy, and harmony. You may kiss your bride, High Lord.”

“About damn time,” Eris murmured, and as he leaned in and Iris met her lips with his, the cheers in the room matched the cheers in his heart, and he couldn’t bring himself to give a single shit about who watched them.

The rest of the night had passed in full merriment, an unusual occurrence for the Vanserras. Very few parties had ever been this calm – enjoyable even. Considering the last ball they’d been to, this ceremony was a dream.

Though they had remained on high alert, the brothers let themselves simply be present. The former Lady of Autumn’s smile was bright, her mate watching her every breath with stars in his eyes. They had all danced – Finn risking his life to dance with each of his brother’s paramours – and yet, despite the bickering and nonsense, Eris had watched Iris enjoy every minute of it. Her smile had dazzled the whole room and he wouldn’t have had it any other way.

She had surprised him again during the party. In addition to the wedding cake he had originally requested, Iris presented a cake she had baked herself. It was a small round cake with white frosting, decorated with irises and Eris felt the mating bond thump beneath his skin at the gesture.

Picking up a fork, she smiled at him and asked in a hushed tone, “Are you ready to eat, mate?”

Eris’s throat had bobbed as he took the fork from her hand and it took him a moment before he cleared his throat and joked, “So this is the way I go. Poisoned by my mate.”

Her exasperated expression was so endearingly familiar that Eris couldn’t help but laugh, kiss her heartily, and then devour every last morsel of it.

Now, he sat on his new throne, happily married, happily mated, his wife in his lap, and her hand trailing distractingly down his chest.

His suit jacket was long gone, his crown sitting askew on his head and Eris had allowed himself to get slightly tipsy. He was also covered in lipstick stains, and Iris was still kissing his neck.

“I could die right now and would consider myself the luckiest bastard alive.” He mumbled and Iris straightened in his lap with a tsk. Her wedding cape had been discarded on her own throne next to them, her heels tossed to the side and Eris had already taken all the pins out of her hair, setting her long locks free. Her tiara remained, of course.

“How could you say that when we haven’t even had our proper wedding night?” she teased. “What a disappointing start to our marriage.”

Eris’s hands slid to his wife’s waist and he yanked her closer until she was inches from his lips, exactly where he liked her. “You and I both know, there is nothing disappointing about our marriage,” he said and gave her a knowing look. “Especially when my shy little wife is no longer shy, craving me constantly.”

“Don’t flatter yourself like you aren’t ready to collapse every time my hand brushes against your skin, High Lord.” she breathed, tracing a finger across his collarbone.

Eris chuckled, taking that finger and bringing it to his lips to kiss. “True. You had me wrapped around your finger from day one, I suppose,” he replied with a long-suffering sigh and Iris laughed but couldn’t help herself from pecking him quickly.

“If it helps, it’s exactly how I want you, obsessed with me.”

“Given how you can’t even sleep without being engulfed in my scent, I’m not the only one obsessed, am I?” he teased. “Remember how prickly you were in the beginning? Like a feral little cat. And now look at you – simply addicted.”

Iris returned the long-suffering sigh and Eris’s lip twitched. “I suppose you have me there.” she said and her cheeks flushed when she added, “I do love you enough that I married you twice.”

His expression softened and his hand brushed against her cheek, whispering, “And I am always grateful you chose me.”

Husband and wife watched one another in silence, the thread of their bond shining bright and true between them. It had all been worth it. Every hardship. Every doubt and fear and anxiety that had clawed at their lives before this…it had all been worth it.

“I’d choose you every time, Eris,” she said softly. “You are mine and I am yours. Until the sun sets in its final hour. Until I am nothing but dust and even after that, when I am no more than a memory, I will always be yours.”

His throat bobbed as he watched her smile at him, a rush of affection so deep, Eris wanted to sink in it and never come up for air. “And I yours,” he murmured, pulling her close again, his lips brushing against hers. “My heart and my soul – my very breath and every broken part of me will only ever be yours.”

“Every wonderful part of you.” Iris corrected and Eris couldn’t help his chuckle.

“Only because it’s you and everything you touch becomes wonderful,” he said and Iris shook her head.

“After everything that’s happened, you are not allowed to speak about yourself that way,” she demanded, leaning back to give him a stern look. “I forbid it.”

He chuckled again. “Well, if my mate and future High Lady forbid it, I suppose I must listen,” he said and brushed back a loose curl, tugging on her ear gently. “You still want to wait until next year to declare the title officially?”

“Yes,” Iris confirmed and cupped his face. “I’d like more time learning in court before we add another big change. You need to keep things stable for now.”

Eris nodded, watching her face with that small smile that was all hers. How he had gotten so lucky, he’d never know. The Mother had blessed him in ways he’d never even let himself dream.

“As you wish, wife,” he said. “I look forward to your insights. Even if you have questionable opinions at times.”

“Excuse me?”

“Do you still think Lucien is more dashing than me, then?” he asked immediately and Iris blinked then leaned her head back with a laugh.

“Ah, so that’s what this is about.” she teased with a giggle and Eris pursed his lips at her response, narrowing his eyes.

“As I said, questionable opinions.”

Iris rolled her eyes, smiling so fondly, that it made her cheeks ache. “To answer your question,” she said quietly and leaned in to kiss the corner of his mouth. “No, I don’t. Even if he may dress better than you sometimes.”

Eris tutted and sat back, pulling her more firmly in his lap, and shook his head. “So many silly lies you tell.”

Iris hummed, leaning into him, and brushed her thumb against his mouth. She loved him, and what a blessing—after waiting for so long, she had been given a love like this. She loved him so deeply, yet she could never put into words just how much he meant to her—her husband, her friend, her mate. It left her helpless in the best way, and Iris wanted nothing more than to stay wrapped up with him like this.

He was all hers. For forever and every day after. He was all hers.

“What are you going to do about all my lies, then?” she whispered, arching into him as Eris ran his hand down her back with a smirk and she leaned in to kiss the other corner of his mouth.

“Kiss you until you stop saying them, I suppose,” he hummed, and Iris grinned.

“Well then,” she said. “I guess I’ll just have to keep lying.”

Eris couldn’t stop staring at her, sitting in his arms with a mischievous grin, her scent enveloping him. He truly had everything he ever wanted – right here. And it was real, not a desperate dream. “Tell me more of your lies then, little gazelle.”

“Mmm, you’re hideous.”

He chuckled and leaned in to brush his lips against hers. “What else?”

“You’re simply the worst person I’ve ever met.”

Eris fought back his own grin, nipping at her bottom lip. “Tell me more.”

Iris leaned back again and met his gaze, her expression softening again in a way that made Eris tremble.

“I hate you,” she said and the corner of his mouth quirked up, warmth spreading in his chest. “You’re the worst thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“Is that the best lie you have?” he teased. Iris narrowed her eyes in thought for a moment, then smirked devilishly, wrapping both arms around his neck, a breath away from his lips.

“You’re terrible in bed.”

Eris barked out a laugh and Iris joined him as unfiltered joy flooded through him. He wouldn’t question this gift he’d been given for a single moment – never let a doubt creep in between them. Wrapping his arms around his wife, Eris kissed his Iris in earnest, pouring all his love and promises into her lips.

His heart had always been in the palm of her hands, and Iris had wrapped her very soul around him. Together, they would welcome a new beginning.

They would spend the rest of their days just like this.

Happy.

Whole.

Together.

And where jaded spirits had once met tired bones, their spirits were jaded no more.

Rekindled, they had finally settled home.

#eris vanserra #eris vanserra x oc #eris vanserra fanfic #eris x oc #acotar fanfiction #smtb chapters #gifcs #we have reached the end!#For anyone that has interacted with this fic in any way #I love you and adore you and appreciate you!#I hope you enjoyed it.#previously: lucienarcheron #I hope yall caught the show reference I made here haha

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liliasenbyhusband · 1 day ago

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Play stupid games

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Joanne x reader (company, f!Bobbie)

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI!!!, smutty thoughts but no actual smut, drinking, mentions of smoking and cigarettes, that’s it I think??

Tags: longing, established friendship between reader, Joanne, a bit more angsty than the other chapter, loneliness, drinking, hangover, flirting

Summary: Joanne comes home after Bobbie’s party to an empty apartment and has a hard time dealing with the loneliness that accompanies that.

Notes: Honestly, I’m not entirely sure how I feel about this chapter. I have very mixed emotions about it. I hope you guys like it though. I’m hoping to be able to post the next chapter next weekend, but I can’t make any promises cause uni is really taking it out of me atm. As always, English isn’t my first language so please excuse any mistakes.

Words: ~3.7k

Chapter 1

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Chapter 2: Bobbie’s best friend

Joanne sighed as she entered her empty apartment, if she hadn’t been so hellbent on winning that stupid argument with Bobbie then she could have asked you to join her for a nightcap… would it still be considered a nightcap at 4 am in the morning..? She shrugged and decided to pour herself a glass of whiskey. She really did despise coming home to an empty apartment, especially when she didn’t get to properly say goodbye to you.

She had no one to blame but herself really. She could have easily let Bobbie win the argument and then asked you to go with her to her apartment. Or she could have at least taken a proper break from arguing to take her time to say goodbye to you. But at the time winning their little fight had been more important so now she had to deal with the emptiness that had settled into her heart, an all too familiar feeling whenever you weren’t around. Joanne hated a lot of things, but missing you might just be one of the things she hated the most.

She groaned at her own patheticness, she had just seen you, how was she already craving your company again? She blamed the alcohol for her neediness and the persistent ache that seemed insistent on haunting her whenever she thought about you for too long. She also decided to ignore the wet patch that had formed in her underwear, the result of being a little too flirty with you and her inability to stop her horny thoughts from taking over whenever you were around.

Joanne threw herself on her couch after taking off her shoes and began sipping her whiskey. She knew it was a bad idea to drink even more, but it was the only thing she could think to do to fight the sadness that had woven itself into every fiber of her being.

Her faulty plan to distract herself with more alcohol had been doomed from the start and it completely backfired when she failed to find something else to think of or keep herself busy with. The thoughts she had tried to repress took over, alcohol tended to have that effect on her… and yet she never learned from her past mistakes and continued to drink whenever her heart felt sad or empty. So, unable to do anything to stop it, she groaned as the memories and feelings from this turbulent past year and a half began to plague her.

Joanne had never entertained the thought of liking women.. let alone the idea that she might not like men. She had blamed the fact that her marriages never worked out on the fact that she had never met a man that could handle her or meet her high standards. Joanne had never questioned it… not until her third marriage had ended and she once again felt nothing but relief to be rid of another husband.

Surely she should have been more upset at losing her third husband, at another broken marriage… sure Larry hadn’t been perfect but he had been kind and gentle and patient. So why was she so happy to be rid of him? And that’s when it hit her, him being so patient and gentle had been the problem. He had started getting too close, he knew her too well and he was too kind, wanted to be intimate too much and loved her too much. Whenever she pulled away, he took a step closer and it was insufferable, so she had ended things.

With every husband she had found flaws, flaws that were too great to look past, that she could not stand, that irritated her beyond comprehension. And during every marriage she had made it impossible for the relationship to bloom and thrive, always finding new ways to pull back or taunt her spouse. It had started to make her question things, even during her marriage with Larry.

And then, when the expected hurt at losing someone, who so clearly loved her, didn’t follow, after she felt nothing but relief and guilt, she had started to really look at herself and her previous marriages. Of course with the help of some a lot of alcohol, because trying to do any introspection sober was a fate worse than death.

Joanne realised she had never felt attracted to her husbands… in fact she barely even tolerated most of them.. she couldn’t even remember why she had married them, other than it had been expected of her so she’d done it.

In the midst of this personal journey, Bobbie had introduced her new best friend to the group. When Bobbie had announced that she’d be bringing you to their next gathering, because she wanted everyone to meet you, Joanne had been skeptical of adding another person to their already big and chaotic friend group. She also wasn’t sure if she had the emotional strength to deal with meeting someone new right now. But it had seemed important to Bobbie, and whether she admitted it or not, she cared for her.. so she’d begrudgingly agreed to be there for the next gathering and had promised to be nice to you.

A decision she was now incredibly grateful for. When first meeting you she had started jokingly flirting with you, just like she did with most women she met for the first time, she found it usually eased the tension and awkwardness. Although most women never really matched her energy, usually just rolling their eyes or laughing at Joanne’s remarks. But then you came and you matched every dirty remark with an even filthier one and you had even managed to fluster her every once in a while, a feat only a very few people could claim to have accomplished. Meeting you had been like finally feeling a cool breeze after being trapped in a hot room for days on end.

And then she got to know you better, and you were so clearly and unapologetically yourself, she had to admit she admired it. You were no longer just a fun person to throw filthy comments at, but you had actually stirred something deep within her. She found herself feeling feelings she thought people had been lying about existing, she certainly never felt these butterflies around any of her husbands… when she began to truly think about it, the only time she had ever felt this giddy around anyone was during her college days when she had spent most of her time hanging out with her closest friend.

And that’s how all the puzzle pieces finally fell into place.. on a random Friday night at Bobbie’s, surrounded by her friends and while talking to you. Suddenly everything made sense. Why she had despised every single one of her husbands, how they had never been able to match her high standards, why she had felt so betrayed when her closest friend had gotten a boyfriend, and why she suddenly felt butterflies whenever you touched her. She was a lesbian… it was a crushing realization, accompanied by a wave of many intense emotions, both good and bad.

Joanne had never been more grateful for her ability to hide her emotions behind a well crafted mask and a strongly built wall than she had been that random Friday night. She had somehow managed to hold everything together till she got to her apartment, where she let the wave of emotions drown her completely while reaching for her familiar bottle of vodka.

The journey to acceptance had been a long and arduous one, especially since she refused to tell anyone about what she was going through, not out of a fear of not being accepted, but simply because she refused to seem weak. She had spent years creating this persona and she would be damned before ever showing her real self to these people.

The fact that she had developed a bit of a crush on you hadn’t helped this predicament either… she had only known you for a couple of months and hung out with you outside of the friend group twice and yet she had somehow managed to make this harder on herself than it already was.

And yet, somehow, she managed to slowly but surely start accepting this part of herself and her life had started to make a whole lot more sense now. She would never say it out loud, but opening up to you, even just a little, had helped her journey immensely and even though she hadn’t exactly come out to you, she still felt like you somehow knew, like you could see through her and, unlike with Larry, the thought brought her ease and comfort.

Her phone vibrating brought her out of her thoughts, as she checked who had messaged her, she noticed the time: 6 am. Had she really been lost in thought that long..? She sighed and downed the rest of her whiskey before reading the message Bobbie had sent her. It was a very poorly written apology, wanting to make sure Joanne hadn’t been angry with her after their little quarrel.

Bobbie was very clearly drunk, she always got anxious and began to overthink everything when she was drunk and alone. Joanne rolled her eyes and sighed but there was no real annoyance behind it, she cared a lot about Bobbie, and deep down she understood her more than she’d ever admit. She saw a great deal of herself in the other woman. She typed out a quick message, full of mistakes, reassuring Bobbie that they were okay and that she wasn’t upset about the argument. Quite frankly she couldn’t even remember what the argument had been about… the only thing she could remember was that it had seemed important to win it… but then again, to Joanne, winning any argument at all was always important

When she exited their chat, she saw your name right under Bobbie’s, which is when she remembered that she hadn’t sent you a text, to tell you that she had gotten home safe, yet. You and Joanne usually texted each other immediately after getting home…she couldn’t exactly remember when or why you had started doing it, but it was nice nonetheless. It made her feel like someone cared about her and it was always nice to know that you’d gotten home safe.

She had completely forgotten to text you this time though, too absorbed in her own thoughts to remember to let you know she’d made it to her apartment in one piece… so she quickly sent you a message, letting you know she had gotten home safely. In her drunken haste to reply to you, she had struggled to write a coherent message, the singular sentence containing more spelling mistakes than words spelled correctly, but she knew you wouldn’t care.. as long as you knew she got home safe.

Joanne groaned as she felt that familiar ache once again begin to settle into her heart upon seeing your name on her screen. Her little crush, attraction and fascination with you had turned into something much deeper these past months. She had tried to push it down, bottle it up, forget about it, but her feelings always found a way back to the forefront of her mind. Luckily for her, you seemed to be none the wiser, the years of perfecting the walls she had built around her heart had paid off.

Sometimes she dreamed about telling you how she felt or confessing to you that she was a lesbian, just so she could say it out loud to someone. And who better to tell than the only person she felt comfortable opening up to, even just a little? Besides she was quite sure you knew already or at least suspected something.

But then the shame and embarrassment kicked in.. how on Earth had it taken her this long to find out she liked women? She knew you wouldn’t judge her but… well maybe you should. She had gone through life proclaiming to know it all, telling anyone who would listen how she had life completely figured out and yet… she didn’t even discover this essential part of herself until fairly recently. Not only had it taken her multiple decades to figure it out, but it had also taken her three whole divorces… no she was too proud to ever admit this to anyone, even you. Accepting herself was one thing, having to deal with the consequences of her own actions was something entirely different. And what was the point, anyway? It was too late, she was too old… and there was no way you’d be interested in her.

“There is still time.”

She whispered into the cold air of her living room, it sounded desperate, like she was trying to convince herself of a lie. It was supposed to be comforting, a reminder that it wasn’t too late, that she could still explore this side of herself…there was still time. Except it didn’t feel comforting, instead it felt like a curse, there is still time.. there is always time… and nothing to fill it with, no dreams to be chased, no goals to be accomplished, no wishes to be fulfilled, no work to be completed… just time.. an endless stretch of time that she couldn’t seem to assign any meaning to. She stared at her now empty glass as the reality of having a future with no goals she wished to chase, settled into her once again.

No, you would never be into her, you needed someone ambitious, someone who could help you grow in life and would encourage you to follow your dreams… not a drunk old broad who spent her days doing nothing but complaining and drinking.

Joanne groaned as she got up from the couch, she really hated coming home to an empty apartment, her thoughts seemed to never stop when she was alone. With great difficulty she made her way over to her bed. She couldn’t be bothered to change out of today's clothes, so she just let herself fall into her bed. She’d regret all of this tomorrow morning.. or well, more accurately, later today.. but she’d cross that bridge when she came to it.

Thanks to the alcohol, she managed to fall asleep rather quickly, but it didn’t provide her any solace. You haunted her dreams with your understanding eyes, witty remarks and comforting touches.

Joanne woke up feeling worse than she did when she had gone to bed. Not only did she have a massive hangover but having dreamt of you laying beside her and then waking up in an empty bed, in the same clothes she had worn yesterday, smelling of alcohol and cigarettes, had hit her harder than she would ever admit.

She slowly got out of bed, opting to take a cold shower before trying to do anything, needing to get rid of this smell and hoping to get rid of some of the brain fog.

When Joanne got out of the shower, she was entirely unaware of what part of the day it was, she had no clue how long she had slept, all she knew was that she needed a cigarette, an aspirin and something to eat… although her nausea did not agree with that last part.

She threw on the comfiest pair of pants she owned and one of her favourite blouses. As she was about to search for her phone, to try and figure how late it was, a knock disturbed the silence that hung in her apartment. A confused frown made its way onto her face, she was quite sure she hadn’t made any plans today, anticipating that she would be too hungover to follow through on any of them.

She made her way over to her door nonetheless, not bothering to check what she looked like. She would tell whoever was on the other side of that door they could fuck off anyway. She was not in the mood for any company.

The second Joanne opened the door she regretted not putting on her make-up or checking herself in the mirror. As her eyes landed on your smiling form, a bit of self consciousness began to creep its way into her mind.

Her confusion must have been clear on her face because you quickly began to explain yourself, holding up two cups of coffee and a bag that she assumed had some sort of food in it. You were clearly a little nervous as you shifted your weight from one foot to the other.

“Judging by the text you sent early this morning, I figured you might have a rough morning or, more accurately, afternoon. So I reckoned why not surprise you with your favourite coffee and some breakfast.. I thought you might need it. I hope I didn’t wake you up.”

Joanne shook her head and softly reassured you that she had been awake already, electing to leave out that she had only been awake for approximately half an hour. She couldn’t stop the small smile from making its way onto her face, you were so thoughtful. She mentally cursed herself as she felt her heart flutter at your kind gesture.

She tried to act like her self assured self while letting you in, but she suddenly was very aware of the state she had left her apartment in after getting back home. Her empty glass was still sat on top of the living room table, her coat had been thrown on the first chair she had seen and her shoes were carelessly discarded in front of the couch. On top of that you had never seen her without make-up. The self consciousness that had already been creeping its way into her mind now doubled in intensity.

Joanne didn’t miss the worried look you sent her way, you must have picked up on her uneasiness. She quickly sent you a reassuring smile, muttering something about a hangover as she slipped her confident mask back on, before taking the coffee you had handed her.

“So what did you bring me for breakfast? Besides you of course?”

Joanne teased, her voice light while her lips twitched into a smirk. She found these type of teasing remarks usually helped her slip back into the persona she had created for herself. And trying to fluster you was also an added bonus.

She watched as you tried to hide the faintest blush by taking a sip from your coffee. She had noticed how you got flustered more often and easier lately, she sometimes wondered what had suddenly changed for you to suddenly become more shy. It reminded her of the conversation she had overheard between you and Bobbie yesterday. Maybe Bobbie was implying that it had been too long since you had gotten laid? Could that be part of the reason why you had gotten so easy to fluster? Maybe Bobbie had offered to introduce you to someone and then told you to take action, to not let her offer go to waste… it certainly would make sense.

That thought left her with a feeling she hadn’t felt in ages, jealousy. She internally groaned at her own stupidity. She had absolutely no right to be jealous, besides she didn’t even know if there was anything to be jealous of. She realised she might not know you as well as she thought she did. You had never talked much about your love life, at least not to Joanne… Bobbie seemed to know more though… she definitely knew something that Joanne didn’t.

The jealousy that she had felt earlier only got worse at that. This wasn’t her thoughts coming up with a hypothetical scenario.. this was reality…you trusted Bobbie more than her… maybe even liked her more than her. Joanne took a sip from her coffee, trying to stop the lump that had threatened to form in her throat.

She silently scolded herself, you were Bobbie’s best friend, it made complete sense for you to trust her more, share more secrets with her, share parts of your life that you didn’t with Joanne.

Her racing thoughts came to a halt when you spoke up to answer her question, a question she had completely forgotten she had asked in the first place.

“Pastries from that cute little bakery on the corner. If you still have an appetite after them, you can have your dessert.”

Your voice sounded light and playful and the wink you sent her way had a much bigger effect on her than it should have. She was quite sure she wouldn’t be able to get the image of eating you out on her couch out of her head for the rest of the day.

When you handed her the bag with pastries those filthy thoughts were replaced by a much warmer, softer feeling. She only now realised you had gone to her favourite bakery and as she opened the bag, she saw that you had not only gone to her favourite bakery, but you had also gotten her favourite pastries.

Joanne had mentioned that bakery and her favourite pastries once or twice and couldn’t believe you had remembered it. Any sadness that had previously tainted her heart was replaced by the comforting feeling that accompanied the knowledge that you cared enough about her to remember these little things.

A genuine and heartfelt “thank you” slipped from her lips as she looked into your eyes, the gratitude clearly displayed in her own.

The rest of the afternoon was spent teasing one another, talking about everything and nothing, as the sound of laughter filled the air. The contrast with earlier that day could not have been bigger. The sadness and coldness that had polluted the air of the living room mere hours earlier, had now been replaced with a warmth that could only come from time spent with you, watching you blush and hearing you laugh at Joanne’s dirty jokes.

The warmth still lingered even after you had begrudgingly left, reminders of your presence lingering in her kitchen and living room. Your discarded coffee cup on the living room table and the bag, with still half a pastry in it, laid on the kitchen counter. The emptiness that had taken hold of Joanne’s heart earlier had now been filled with a feeling only you could bring out in her, she didn’t have a name for it, not yet, but for once she didn’t care that she didn’t know. She just wanted to bask in this feeling for a little while longer, before the ache of missing you inevitably took hold of her once again.

#joanne x reader #company #joanne #fanfic #patti lupone

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flufftober · 2 days ago

Text

🍀🍂 Hello and welcome to Flufftober's (first) Fluff Bingo 🍀🍂

In our poll, nearly 50% of you voted for a handful of bingo cards to fill the other half of the year with more fluff before we jump right back into the excitement that is Flufftober - and of course, we're here to deliver 😊

Find all the important info, more cards, and all the prompts in writing below the cut.

We hope you like this event and our prompts, and now

Happy Creating 🥳

🍀 Pick your card - we offer:

🍂 one card with 5x5 prompts (as seen at the top)

🍂 two cards with 3x3 prompts:

🍂 three themed cards with 1x5 prompts:

🍂 and as a bonus, a 3x3 card with tasks instead of prompts:

🍀 How does this work?

🍂 our standard blog rules apply and you'll find answers to most questions on our FAQ post

🍂 aside from that, you can go wild: fill these cards however you like, as quick or as slow as you like, as often as you like, and use as many of them as you like. We just want you to have fun 😊

🍂 if there are prompts on the bigger cards you don't like, feel free to use the 1x5 cards as alternate prompts and switch them out

🍂 download the cards and tick them off once you've finished a square; make a post for every square or only once you have a bingo or even a blackout - it's all up to you!

🍂 as with all our events, this one will never close, you can always use these cards. If you need a timeframe/deadline because (like me) you'll never finish otherwise, consider these loose goals:

finish until July 1st when we release the new Flufftober list

finish during October, maybe by combining some of these with the Flufftober prompts

finish until the end of the year so you're ready for whatever event we plan for next spring

🍀 What about tumblr reblogs and ao3?

🍂 tumblr reblogs will still happen but not daily as you're used to during Flufftober. It will strongly depend on how many posts there happen to be at a time and how the modmin team will have time. But as long as you mention us and/or use the tag (and follow the rules, obviously), reblogs will happen

🍂 please use the tag #fluffbingo

🍂 feel free to also add the general #flufftober tag

🍂 please make sure to clearly show the fandom, either in the first few tags or noticeably in the post

🍂 contrary to how we do it during Flufftober, we will only use four tags during reblogs this time: #fluffbingo #fluffreblog #[fandom] #[your user name] - that means we will not tag any ships, characters, or which prompt you're covering

🍂 on ao3, our collection for this event is Flufftober Fluff Bingo

Prompts

We're going left to right, top to bottom!

🍂 5x5 card

Fresh Start

To-Do List

Craft Fair

Creature AU

“This was a bad idea.”

Exploring Together

Plushie

Secret Signal

“You’ll love it.”

Late Night

Hidden (...)

“It’s just so much.”

Free Space

Fake Dating

Carnival

“You’re the best!”

Royal AU

Missing the Other

Never ever, ever

Rainbow

Hanahaki

Pep Talk

“I really mean it.”

Hoodie

Movie AU

🍂 3x3 card I

“Where do I start?”

Famous AU

Traveling the World Together

Enjoying a Lazy Day

Task: Write in a tense you usually don’t write/write less than another tense

“You said you had it handled!” - “Yeah, well, I lied.”

Birthday

“Hey, wait, that’s mine.”

Direction

🍂 3x3 card II

“You’re late!”

Hospital AU

Grocery Shopping Together

Going for a Walk

Task: Write from a POV you usually don’t write/write less than another POV

“Could you not do that, please?” - “Spoilsport.”

Sunshine

“I don’t know, you decide.”

Concert

🍂 1x5 card - Smiles

Secret Smile

Relieved Smile

Honest Smile

Devious Smile

Teary Smile

🍂 1x5 card - Hugs

Soothing Hug

Hug in Celebration

Sleepy Hug

Hug from behind

Desperate Hug

🍂 1x5 card - Kisses

Kiss on the Hand

Kiss to distract

Goodbye Kiss

Forhead Kiss

Kiss on the Cheek

🍂 3x3 card - Tasks

Finish your WIP

Sort all your Ideas and/or WIPs

Edit an entire Chapter or Oneshot

Outline a Story

Work on that hard Scene that is giving you so much trouble it is holding you back

Finish the next Chapter of your WIP

Join in a Writing Event (this card doesn’t count 😉 but the others do!)

Finish a Oneshot

Dig out an old Draft and work on it

Have Fun and Go Wild 🥳

#fluffbingo #flufftober #bingo card #writing prompts #prompts #fluff prompts #writing #fanfic #fanfiction #art #arting #open to all fandoms #open to anyone #open to all content creators #open to crossovers #feel free to spread the word #feel free to reblog

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wbbpls · 1 day ago

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Platonic Plus One? (Chapter 3)

Azzi POV

The girls finished getting ready, naturally working around each other. They went down for dinner and started greeting the family. The first to greet them was Azzi’s grandma.

“Sweetheart, I missed you!”

“I missed you too, Grandma.” Azzi bends down to hug her grandmother. The three women spent time catching up about school, basketball, and summer plans. Eventually, her grandmother switches gears.

“So no boys to bring home with you, huh darling?”

“No, Grandma. Just focused on basketball.”

“You know Jonathan is here? That sweet boy you went to prom with. His older brother is close to Brandon.”

“We’re just friends. I’m really fine and just focused on basketball right now.” Azzi tries to smile politely, but she's already heard this a million times.

“Okay, okay, I’ll leave it alone. I trust Paige is looking after you in the meantime.”

“You know it, Grandma Fudd!”

“Ugh, Paige, don’t enable her.” Azzi whispers when her grandmother walks away. Azzi’s aunt notices the girls from across the room and makes her way over.

Azzi rolls her eyes and whispers to Paige. “Time to get reamed out part 2 about not bringing a guy.”

“Azzi, my love! Paige! It’s so good to see you, beautiful girls.”

“Hey, Aunt Chrissy!” The girls say simultaneously.

“Azzi, before we catch up, I must say it’s so sweet to see how happy you are.”

“Oh, wow, thanks…it’s always nice to see the family.”

“And you, Paige!” Her aunt grabs her hands. “It’s always been you. I’m just so happy!”

Paige had no idea what to say to that. What does it even mean? Before either of the girls could respond, one of the many cousins yelled from the other side of the room. “Yo, Mom, we need you for a picture!”

“Well, duty calls. Oh, and don’t worry, sweetie, I already told the boys to leave you alone.” She winks at the girls and smiles as she walks away.

“Uh, that was weird.”

“Really weird. But like oddly nice? I don’t think she’s ever greeted me like that at a family event.”

“Maybe she’s just a romance gal, you know? Feelin' the vibe of the wedding.”

“Also, when has she ever told a boy to leave me alone?” Azzi is completely lost now.

“I don’t know, man, but take what you can get. For example, I see a bar that likely has shirley temples. You want anything?”

Azzi chuckles, “Yeah, I’ll take a glass of red wine.”

“You got it, Princess.”

When Paige walks away, one of the groomsmen accidentally bumps into Azzi. “Shit I’m so sorry. Oh my god. You’re Azzi Fudd.”

“Haha, it’s okay. You’re one of Brandon’s groomsmen, right? What’s your name?”

“I’m Jake! I’m pretty sure we are paired to walk down the aisle together.”

He’s handsome, tall, and respectful, but Azzi finds herself looking to see if Paige is done getting drinks. Azzi tries to make small talk, knowing she needs to spend time with more people than Paige. “I think we are going to have tons of events together this week. Seems like it’s packed with events.”

“Seriously, so many events! My girlfriend is a little annoyed I’ll have to leave her so much. I’m sure Paige gets it, though.”

“Yeah, luckily, she’s really close with my family, so she’ll get along just fine.”

“Plus, pretty much all of us are coupled off, so our partners can hang together when we are off with our wedding party duties. You and Paige are definitely the coolest couple here, though.”

Azzi freezes. What did he just say?

Her and...Paige? A couple? Not best friends. Not the UConn duo, but a couple. Like...the dating kind of couple? The kind that holds hands, and kisses, and-

Paige walks up, handing Azzi her drink. “Sorry that took so long, Az. It was a long line.”

“Aye, speak of the devil! Sup, I’m Jake, one of the groomsmen.”

“Oh, hey man, nice to meet you.”

“You too. I’m a huge fan, by the way!”

“Thank you, I really appreciate it.”

“It looks like everyone is starting to sit down for dinner. I’ll catch up with you guys later.”

As the girls went to sit down, Paige pulled Azzi’s chair out for her, and Azzi noticed her cousin wiggle her eyebrows suggestively. Between her aunt, cousin, and Mrs. Miller, Azzi starts to think no one thinks she and Paige are best friends anymore. She decides to test this theory.

Azzi leans into Paige, gently touching her shoulder to get her attention. “Do you know if there was anything else for tonight on that schedule?”

“Hm, no, I don’t think so. Jose brought his PS5 portal remote, so we might play fortnight after this if you’re down.” Paige keeps babbling about random video games, and Azzi notices one of the other bridesmaids smiling at them adoringly. Time to push the limits some more. Azzi begins to run her fingers through Paige’s hair. “Looks like something is in your hair, P., Just getting it out.”

Paige’s eyes flutter closed for a second at the feeling of her fingers. “Thanks, Az.” That same bridesmaid now practically has heart eyes, and she notices her Mom glance over a smile. Did people do this before, too? Nothing is over the top. If anything, this all feels almost normal, as if nothing really changed.

It’s suddenly getting hard to breathe, and Azzi begins to shake her leg. “Paige, sweetie, could you help me with something real quick?”

Paige looks up from her food mid bite and looks at Azzi as if she asked her to cure some disease. She swallows her bite dramatically. “Uh, sure. You okay, darling?”

Azzi grabs Paige’s wrist and quickly drags her toward the nearest bathroom. “Yep!” Azzi says with a high voice. Thankfully, it's a one-person bathroom, so no one else is here to hear what she will say, if she can even get it out of her. She paces back and forth, trying to piece it all together.

“Azzi, what’s wrong? Did someone say something to you?”

“Everyone thinks we’re dating,” Azzi blurts out and stops to look at Paige. She doesn’t want Paige to freak out and leave.

Paige contorts her face in confusion. “Dude, literally who thinks that?”

“Literally everyone!” Azzi covers her face with her hands.

“Okay, but why would they think that? Your family knows we’ve been best friends for years.”

“I don’t know! It’s you and me. Paige and Azzi. It’s just weird.”

Paige crosses her arms and mumbles, “Aight, it's not the weirdest thing in the world to date me, damn.”

“Ugh, Paige, not now.”

“It’s fine, Az. Let’s just go clear things up. They probably assumed that since you brought me as a plus one. You don’t need to worry about anyone thinking you’d actually date me.” Paige moves towards the door to go back to the dining room, but Azzi grabs her arm again. “No, wait.”

“Dude, you really need to stop grabbing my wrist. There’s going to be an Azzi handprint permanently there by the end of the week.”

“Maybe we just don’t correct them.”

Paige has never whipped her head so fast in her life. “What? W-why would be do that?”

“Were you not in the same room with my grandma hounding me about dating? Did you not see how nice the rest of my family has been to me since they thought we were dating? It’s going to be such a long week of everyone up my ass and us dating would this would fix it. Please?”

“Fix it? Us? There isn’t actually an us though, Az!”

“Oh, now the thought of dating me is oh so horrible?

“No! Az, you know I think you’re perfect. I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Okay, so date me! It’s just a week, P. We still just act our normal selves most of the time. Then the next time a family member asks I’ll just be like oh yeah, we were better off as friends or something. I just need one week of peace with my family. Please, Paige, I’m begging you!”

“Alright, man, I’ll think about it. I just feel so bad lying to your family.”

Azzi leans in to hug Paige and sighs. “I get it, P. I won’t pressure you. I’m happy to even have you here.” They stand in that hug for much longer than friends who definitely aren’t dating should.

Suddenly, a knock at the door breaks them apart. They open the door to find Azzi’s aunt on the other side. “You okay, ladies? The next course is coming, and welcome speeches will start soon.”

Azzi starts to stutter, not knowing what direction she and Paige agreed on. Luckily, Paige steps in. “Yeah, we’re good.” Then she laces her fingers into Azzi’s hands. “Ready to head back, baby?”

“Uh, y-yeah, babe.” Azzi stutters as she tries to ignore the heat that went through her body when Paige called her baby. Meanwhile, her Aunt Chrissy simply smiles and walks back towards the dining room as if they’ve been calling each other baby for years.

#pazzi #pazzi fics #paige x azzi

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itwasntimethatdidit40 · 3 days ago

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This is all I've read this month, in chronological order. Every month I always think it's too little but unfortunately it's the best I can do.

Please give love to these writers, reblog and comment because they are very talented and deserve so much.

As for me, you won't see me posting for a while. I'll be back sooner or later but I can't say when. Writing has always been a joy for me but I haven't felt well lately and I don't even feel like opening my wip files (stuff that nobody needs anyway so who cares, I’m just another stupid voice in the chaos), let alone finding an idea that doesn't make me gag.

If you need to ask me something for my challenge I'll be here for you but for the rest I probably won't be that active, sorry.

Please mind the tags and warnings to make sure a story doesn’t trigger you and makes you uncomfortable, I’m not responsible for what you choose to read, only you are.

Biting down - @psychedelic-ink

Joel Miller x f!reader

you finally go and get your nipples pierced.

Give me Hell - @aurorawritestoescape

Stepdad!Joel Miller x f!reader

you come home drunk and Joel isn’t happy. He decides to teach you a lesson.

Yes Sir - @probablyreadinsmut

Dave York x f!reader

Drabble, gun smut

Untitled - @mybvalentine

Joel Miller x f!reader

(Un)faithful chapter 2 - @probablyreadinsmut

Javier Peña x f!reader

After Javier takes a bold step into the bathroom, your friendship dynamic takes a dramatic turn.

Finite eternity - @sizzlingcloudmentality

Professor Reed Richards x f!reader

after getting your phd you return to your former professor to thank him. he says some nice things and you get a "you're coming" guarantee. coming to dinner that is.

Love me like a loaded gun - @joelmillerisapunk

fuckbuddy!Javier Peña x f!reader

Javier Peña is a man who never stays, but that doesn’t stop him from showing up at your door, seeking solace in the only way he knows how.

-or-

my interpretation of Cinnamon Girl by Lana Del Rey if it was a Javi fic

You oughta know - @yxtkiwiyxt

Joel Miller x f!reader

You and Joel return from a double date, and you find out he’s jealous of your colleague, Frankie

Going down - @aurorawritestoescape

Joel Miller x f!reader | Frankie Morales x f!reader

you have a hot boyfriend and a hot ex who’s still obsessed with you. Why not get the best of both worlds?

BDSMaid epilogue - Series Masterlist @mountainsandmayhem

Joel Miller x f!reader

After recently graduating from university, your best friend offers you a job cleaning luxury homes for clients you’ll never know. It’s only temporary and a good way to save money for when you go back to get your law degree. That’s what you’re promised at least. Easy. Simple. Mundane. That is, until one of your clients is home and everything that you felt was missing in your life starts to fall into place. This goes against the NDA you signed and you could get fired. Or worse, you could fall in love.

Untitled thigh riding - @probablyreadinsmut

Javier Peña x f!reader

What happens behind Buc-ees stays behind Buc-ees - @probablyreadinsmut

Joel Miller x f!reader

56 year old Joel Miller spends his days as a blue collar contractor busy on the job site, though his idea of being 'busy' involves standing around cat-calling ladies all day long. One day he tries his luck with you and he gets more than he bargained for in the process.

Naughty thoughts - @aurorawritestoescape

Professor!Joel Miller x f!reader

you’re failing Prof. Miller’s class and he finds a punishment for you.

Owned Collection - @milla-frenchy

Joel Miller x fem reader

Family time - @greenwitchfromthewoods

Frankie Morales x f!reader

you came back from your parents in a really bad mental state

What If We Kissed In The Buc-ee's Bathroom?

CatCaller!Joel Miller x F!Reader

Ol' Joel has done goofed, he's let you into his life and now you've completely turned it upside down. Oh and we're doing more than just kissin' it that bathroom ;)

Girl Dinner part 4 - Masterlist - @slimybeth69 Dead Dove Do Not Eat

Joel Miller x f!reader

After the civilized world you once knew came to an end-- the men that survived... well they just take, take, take. Growing tired of having things taken from you-- you have a hankerin' to take somethin' for yourself... and make him perfect.

Perfect Match - @aurorawritestoescape

Dieter Bravo x f!reader x Marcus Pike (lactation kink)

Dieter becomes a face of a dating app and meets you and your husband while shooting an ad for it. Feeling an immense attraction, he invites you both to his penthouse, planning to enjoy the night and you to the fullest.

Untitled - @letsgobarbs

Kermit (Pedro Pascal Close Encounter 50th) x AFAB!Reader

PWP with Kermit

Hold my hand - @aurorawritestoescape

Clint x f!reader

you have good news for Clint and it seems that you two are ready for another big step in your relationship.

The Senator’s secret - @baronessvonglitter

modern!Oberyn Martell x fem!Reader x modern! Senator!Marcus Acacius

An old flame invites you to be his fake girlfriend so he can spend the evening with his new secret lover. It doesn't hurt that the three of you are attracted to each other..

Shameless - @milla-frenchy

Lucien De Leon x fem reader

you ask Lucien to come over and he does exactly what you need him to

Vices - @baronessvonglitter

Din Djarin x OFC x bi! f!Reader x OMC

You're not one to be shy of your vices, but a night with a mysterious woman has you and your work partner Din chasing new highs.

Visitation - @gothcsz

Javier Peña x f!reader

Javier visits you in prison after putting you in there.

(Un) faithful - @probablyreadinsmut (Chapter 3)

Series Masterlist

After an admission from Lorraine, you and Javier take some time to think about what you both want, but after a tortorous round of golf with Randy and your husband, the writing on the wall becomes visible for both you and Javi.

Bottoms up - @joelmillerisapunk

bfd!Joel Miller x bfstepdad!Arthur Morgan x f!reader

a threesome sex pollen fic where two men kiss

Iron hand - @thundermartini

Arthur Morgan x f!reader

Back in Saint Denis to recharge after a bounty, Arthur makes an unforgettable encounter. Fate makes you cross paths again months later.

Dark Room - @gothcsz

Javier Peña x f!reader

Accidentally getting locked in the photo developing room with Javier.

For you I’d steal the stars - @gothcsz // Drabble

Marcus Acacius x POC f!reader

The afternoon - @frannyzooey

Joel Miller x f!reader

Preciosa - @lotusbxtch

Pero Tovar x f!wife!reader

You would have never predicted that such a delicate thing would be Pero Tovar’s undoing.

Last Call - @mrs-hardy-hunnam-butler-pascal

Joel Miller x f!reader

After you breakup with your boyfriend of 6 years, you head to the bar to wait while he packs up his shit at your place. Joel is a bartender in the bar you randomly picked. Will fate bring you together? tldr: Joel talks you through it.

The Condom - @toxicanonymity / Drabble

Javi P x f!reader x Steve Murphy

Good Boy - @sp00kymulderr / Drabble

Joel Miller x trans male reader

We shouldn’t have done that - @yxtkiwiyxt

dbf! joel miller (or maybe it's just dad’s buddy) x f!reader

It's been a while since you've seen Joel, not since that 'moment' that happened between you two. Now, you have to face him when Sarah calls you in a panic, asking for a ride from a party because her friends are too drunk to drive.

#V feb recs #feb recs #pedro pascal characters #ppcu #ppcu fanfiction #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal #joel miller #javier peña #lucien de leon #din djarin #kermit snl #reed richards

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haru-rain · 2 days ago

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Chapter 68 is exceptional! I really love the composition and the way the emotions are shown. We really get a bit of everything in this chapter: joy, sadness, relief, fear, frustration, anger.

The chapter finally tells us what happened during the Ririka scandal. Taiga allowed Sousuke to have a break from his daily worries, and it was thanks to this that Sousuke was able to endure his mother's scolding.

Taiga talks to Sousuke about what happened to his parents when he decided to stop his acting lessons. He tells Sousuke that he and his parents fought because they expected him to become a celebrity. Ironically, Taiga will do to Sousuke what his parents did to him.

He introduces Sousuke to his friends, emphasizing that he has the potential to become a future star.

Then comes the day of the scandal: Ririka decides to follow Sousuke without listening to him when he tries to dissuade her. Sousuke's mother learns that her son is involved in the scandal, which makes her very angry. Sousuke tries to explain himself, seeing that his mother has the wrong idea, but she believes that he and Ririka have been drinking and refuses to believe him. She even goes so far as to think that it was he who incited Ririka to follow him.

Maybe I'm over-interpreting, but it really gave me the impression that Sousuke's mother distrusts men to the point of not believing in her own son and imagining that he could have manipulated a young girl. I don't know about you, but I think it makes sense in the light of her experience.

Sousuke, on his side, desperately tries to talk to her, but she won't listen. She doesn't see the state her son is in… Sousuke touched me so much in this passage You can see how much he'd like his mother to listen and notice him.

It's so nice to see Mitsumi and Sousuke working together again, just like when they were class reps. When Sousuke recalls the fight they had together, Mitsumi is embarrassed, but Sousuke isn't. He even says it made him happy. Indeed, for him, a fight is a way of communicating, of sharing his feelings openly. And that's what he would have liked to do with his mother.

Just as Taiga had done with his parents. This was Sousuke's idea of a healthy parent-child relationship.

When he preaches a bit to Mitsumi, she tells him he looks like a mother. This makes Sousuke realize that Mitsumi is not like him. She, unlike him, had a good relationship with her mother. But despite their differences, he wants to stay with her 💛

The end of the chapter is too emotional. Sousuke continues to move forward. He accepts his past and the monster in him. Sousuke finally begins to accept himself 💛

#stl spoilers #sousuke shima #shima sousuke #skip to loafer #skip and loafer #stl

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silvysartfulness · 2 days ago

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So last night, I finally typed out a few sentences I’ve been keeping in my head for several years – the ending lines of Heaven Has A Road But No One Walks It. And then I started crying.

I’m honestly still feeling emotional, thinking about it. I first started writing this story in the summer of 2020, almost 5 years ago, while still recovering from the lingering effects of a life-threatening bout of the original covid virus. It was only a month or so after I first watched the Untamed and got utterly swept away.

I have been working on this fic ever since, and it’s been by far one of the most important things in my life for years – I’ve lost two beloved cats during that time, and gone through a lot of really hard times. This fic was always there, an anchor, both a light and burden.

It ended up 471.000 words long. (For reference, that’s about the same length as the official English translation of Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation, or just shy of the total wordcount of the LOTR trilogy.)

And it’s done.

It’s finished. I did it. I hauled that insane, gargantuan beast all the way across the finish line.

When I first came up with the outlines of the idea, I was 100% certain I’d never write it down. I hadn’t written fanfic in many years, my brain is chronically damaged from consecutive autistic burnouts to the point of diagnosed clinical disability, and I struggle a lot with fatigue and concentration and memory issues. The idea of writing anything, let alone something of that scope and needing that much research seemed impossible to the point of laughable.

But a friend and writer I really looked up to told me she’d love to read it. So I figured I could at least try to start, see how it went.

I, uh. Didn’t think it’d get quite this long.

I am actually very proud of what I have accomplished! It’ll be a long while yet before I can post all the last 5 chapters – they need beta and edits, illustrations, and getting translated into Russian by my friend in Ukraine. It may be months yet.

But it’s done.

And I could never have done without all the people cheering me on along the way – the friends I made in this fandom, and old friends who decided to come along on this journey with me. Every single person ever commenting, or sending me asks, or drawing me art, or writing nice things in the reblog tags here on tumblr. I am beyond grateful to you all!

Heaven Has A Road is done.

This journey is over. But it’s not really the end.

Just another new beginning.

#the happy songxuexiao roadtrip story #tagsoicanfinditlater

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maskedcrawford · 2 days ago

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Hidden Secrets

G-Dragon x Reader

Summary: Ji-yong told you the truth, but what's going to happen now?

Warnings: The usual, some angst but with fluff.

A/N: Thank you to everyone who has showed this series love and for all the follows and support. Y'all have no idea how much it means to me! Chapter 5 should be out soon!

Requests are OPEN

Chapter 3

Chapter 4- Risk Takers

“Ji-yong,” your voice is barely above a whisper.

“I think we owe it to ourselves to at least try,” his voice is audibly worried you're going to reject him.

“I mean, can you honestly tell me you don’t feel anything, between us,” he’s standing in front of you now motioning between you. You look at the ground and feel tears prick your eyes. Could you take the chance with him? What if he broke your heart all over again?

“Aein,” he questions, voice slightly weaker.

“I’m just asking for a,”

“No,” you say and close your eyes tight. He’s taken aback.

“Wh-what?”

“Ji, I can’t, I can’t do it. I can’t give you that piece of me when you’ve all ready hurt the one you’ve had,” your voice is cracking but it’s the truth.

“I’m not the only one who’s done wrong here,” he tries to deflect.

“But you’re the one asking for more,” you say looking into his eyes, filled with sadness and despair.

“I swear I’ll make it right, I’m just asking for a chance to do that,” his own tears are in his eyes, and one slips over the edge and falls down his face.

“I know what you’re asking, but you don’t.” you sigh and turn to leave again.

“Then tell me,” he puts his hand on your shoulder and you freeze.

“You’re asking me to not only trust you, something I can’t do right now, but to let you in to an even more intimate place than I all ready have. Ji, this whole thing is so messed up. I mean, how the hell did we even get here?”

“Baby, please,” he can’t help himself. He falls to the ground in front of you. He wraps his arms around your torso.

“Just one chance, that’s all I’m asking.” He’s on his knees looking up at you. He wants to do right by you, to love you the right way, but you aren’t sure he knows how. Not without getting something in return. You pull him up off the floor and give him a soft kiss.

He tries to deepen it but before he can you pull away. He looks like a wounded animal, the pain and regret evident on his face.

“I need some time,” you utter, “to think about all of this.” You walk out of the room, it feels like you’re walking out of his life, and return to your work in the small studio.

Neither of you speak the rest of the day. You find yourself fighting an internal battle. You love him, you want to be with him, but he hurt you, used you for his own selfish needs. Granted you used him too, whether you liked to admit it or not.

You could hear him messing around with some music stuff that night while you were in your room. Different sounds coming from his in-home recording studio. Curiosity got the better of you and you couldn’t help but sneak into the door way. He’s so lost in the music he doesn’t seem to hear you walk up. You lean against the doorframe and watch him.

Ji-yong sits there, he can feel your eyes on him, but he doesn’t turn around. He can’t show you his puffy eyes, the way he’s been overthinking this whole thing, or the fear on his face that he’s lost you completely. He writes some lyrics down on a sheet and he gives it a few minutes, trying to see if you’ll walk away. He can’t help the sniffle that he lets out and silently curses himself.

You hear it, that tiny sound that lets you know he’s been crying. So had you most of the day, and while it didn’t make complete sense, you wanted him. You slowly stalk into the studio and slink your arms down his chest from behind him.

He freezes at your initial touch and his eyes close momentarily. He sits back in his chair for a moment, enjoying the feeling of your hands on his body again.

“We’ve both had a long day,” you say seductively in his ear. He nods his head and bites his bottom lip.

“Come on,” you whisper. You kiss the top of his head, a sweet and innocent gesture.

He stands up, almost zombie like and that’s when you see his eyes. Your heart hurts for him, despite how he hurt you. You pull him to you by the waist band of his pants and kiss him deeply. Everything you want to say and don’t know how to say is put into the kiss.

“Fuck, I missed you,” you breathe against his lips, “I want you,” you feel him stiffen under your touch and you pull away looking at him curiously.

“Ji,” you put your hand to his cheek and he, oddly, turns his face from it.

“Aein,” you say shocked, even when he was mad at you or upset he didn’t refuse your touch.

“I can’t have just this part of you,” he says and walks past you out of the room.

“What are you talking about?” You call after him as you follow on his heels down the winding hallway. He stops abruptly and he knows this is the rest of what can be said. It’s now or never.

“I’m in love with you, and I can’t just have you this way anymore,” he doesn’t look at you, just barely over his shoulder.

“It’s too fucking painful. This whole thing, its too fucking painful. I won’t stop you if you want to leave, but if you stay, we can’t keep this up. I physically can’t do it anymore, y/n,” you stand there shocked.

“Love? He loves me?” you think to yourself.

“What if I love you too?” you call as he’s about to go back to his room. He freezes with his hand on the knob. He doesn’t look at you.

“What if I’m terrified because of what we’ve been through all ready,” you ask. He stares at the floor.

“What if I’ve loved you for a long time and, and when we were together it wasn’t casual. What if,” you pause and you know this is the point of no return, “What if I’m afraid to let you in because of all of this? Because you hurting me is something I don’t know how to heal from and if it’s all ready happened this way, us really being together,” he walks up to you and cups your tear-stained face with his warm soft hands.

“At least let me try to make it right.”

“If I lose you, I can’t come back from that,” you sob. Your body starts shaking and he pulls you close, letting your head hit his chest. His arms are around your head and torso.

“Do you love me,” he asks quietly. You sniffle and close your eyes, as if not seeing him makes it any easier.

“With my whole heart,” you croak. He kisses the crown of your head.

“Look at me,” he mumbles against your hair. You look up at him and he’s offering you a small smile.

“Baby we can do this, you just have to let me in,” he rests his forehead on yours. You sigh.

“I’m broken,” you whimper out.

“Me too,” he sighs.

“But we can heal together if you’ll let us. If you’ll give us a fighting chance. I told you; I’ll make this right.”

“What if we fail, what if I lose you,” you sniffle again and look to him for answers.

“What if we succeed? What if we get married have 10 kids and,”

“I’m not putting my body through 10 kids, Ji,” you interrupt playfully but also seriously. He smiles at you and the mood lightens some.

“Then let’s start with this,” he rubs your cheeks with the pad of his thumb.

“What if we are the best person for each other? Y/n there isn’t much about you I don’t all ready know, broken pieces and all. I want all of it. The healed parts, the jagged pieces, if I’m going to fight for anyone, anything, Jagiya, it’s going to be us. Because I know we can make it. I just know we can,” his voce is confident, reassuring, and he pleads a good case.

He does know everything about you, the parts you don’t tell anyone else, the ugly secrets you hide from others, that time you went to band camp and your pants fell down in front of everyone. He knows it all.

You sigh and nod your head, “Let’s give it a shot,” you smile up at him and he kisses you passionately; you moan into it softly. Your arms snake around his neck and you gently tug at the hair at the nape of his neck.

He smiles into the kiss.

“You have an early morning; you should get some sleep.” He says against your lips. You whine quietly, “Then at least come cuddle me until I’m asleep.” You pull away from each other and you both walk into your room. Slipping under the covers you feel him pull you into him.

“I’m really excited to see you unveil your next piece. I’m so proud of you,” he whispers lovingly into your ear.

“Well, I have to be at the art gallery in the morning around 8,”

“I’ll make sure you get there personally.” You stiffen at his words slightly.

“What’s wrong,” his voice is unsteady.

“What about the public? I mean, do we want to give this a trail run before we tell people.”

“Nothing would make me happier than to scream from the roof top of the highest building in the city that you’re my girl,” he kisses the back of your neck.

“But if you want to wait, we can do that too.” You grin and scoot back a little more into him.

“I just, I want to keep this between us for a bit. Let it be ours before it’s everyone else’s to scrutinize and judge. I want us to be solid with each other first,” you try to explain.

“Then that’s what we’ll do. But I can still come tomorrow, right?” he quirks a brow.

“Yes,” you giggle, “Just not as my boyfriend.” He groans.

“Ji, it’s just when we’re out in public.” He moves his lips to your ear.

“And it was hard not to kiss you in public before all this,” you blush at his words and turn over to face him.

“I promise, as soon as everything is over, you can kiss me as much as you want.”

“I’ll take that deal,” he grins and gives you a soft kiss before you tuck your head under his chin and fall asleep.

If you enjoyed and would like to support me, buy me a coffee

Tags: @loveesiren @natalicss @mashtatosworld @nerdydoll-com @fleabagspurplewife @multifanxtvshows

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king-candybug-backup · 3 days ago

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Me, getting an idea for the most disgustingly heartbreaking scene ever in one of the later chapters:

(image from this comic lol)

(ALSO BIG THANK YOU TO ALL THE BEAUTIFUL KIND TALENTED PEOPLE THAT'VE GIFTED ME WITH SUCH AWESOME KILL SWITCH ART, YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW MUCH IT'S BEEN FUELLING MY WRITING MOTIVATION!!! 😭😭😭 The next couple of chapters had been ones that I've been struggling with because it's like, this weird little cluster of things that needs to happen before we get into The Big Finale Chapters, but y'all's love and support has been firing me up like CRAZYYYY, I FREAKING LOVE YOU GUYS, OH MY GOSHHHHH, I SERIOUSLY NEED YOU TO KNOW THAT I GO BACK AND LOOK AT ALL THE FAN-ART ON LIKE A BORDERLINE DAILY BASIS, IT MAKES ME CRY TEARS OF HAPPINESS AND I SERIOUSLY CAN NEVER THANK YOU GUYS ENOUGH AAAGGGHHHH)

#Wreck It Ralph #KillSwitch #LIKEEEEE I'M SO PUMPED OMFG #Between Chapter 10 and The Last Chapters I've just been having a really difficult time connecting everything in a smooth-feeling way #BUT I'M SO CLOSE TO THE ENDDDD THE FINISH LINE IS IN SIGHT I JUST NEED TO POWER THROUGH AAAGGGHHHH #I still can't believe how many people have been enjoying the fic so far LIKE ALL OF YOU GUYS ARE SO SWEET AND AWESOME WTFFFFF #EVERY NICE TAG AND COMMENT AND JUST FREAKING EVERYTHING PLEASE KNOW THAT I APPRECIATE IT ALL SO MUCH!!!!#Text Post #Obviously can't elaborate what the New Scene Idea is yet lol but if somebody reminds me around chapter 14-ish to clarify what scene it is #then I totally will 😂

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nachiah · 2 days ago

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Spoilers for Chapter 14 of Tokyo Debunker under the cut

Chapter 14 only made me love the Mortkranken duo even more!! I'm just gonna kinda ramble as opposed to my usual, more organized stuff with screenshots and whatnot: I really like that it focused mostly on Yuri's backstory - namely the things he would refuse to tell us otherwise. It goes to show that his bravado and somewhat self-centered nature is mostly for show. He's hiding just how bad he's been hurt by others, and keeping his guard up. As for Jiro, we get a little more of an idea of the sort of sheltered upbringing he had. It's becoming clearer and clearer that he didn't spend much time in the outside world. There are places he wanted to go, but couldn't for whatever reason. And now, it's not like he can just go anywhere. Yuri needs to be there with him - and we learn why: It's his stigma. The injection he received in the immortal patient chapter was probably something to further damage the anomaly without damaging Jiro too, too much. He has no control over his stigma, so *anything* that happens to him - including the effects of poisons and injections - happens to the one that inflicted it. My hopes for his stigma being something like that were realized. Perhaps at the point of making the pact, he wanted retribution. He wanted those that inflicted pain onto him to suffer the same fate. That, however was a bit of a double-edged sword, because now he can *only* be treated by Yuri - but we have no idea why he's unaffected. I personally think it has something to do with a certain level of trust, but that doesn't account for the coma... unless he already knew Yuri back then. Now for the ship-related stuff, and boy did we eat good this time: Yuri rips Nicholas a new one after letting the Frostheim thing slip, and gets mad when people mention that house in general... But when Jiro asks about the funding he could've had, he's met with a calm and direct answer. The way he stepped between Yuri and the Frostheim students when they tore into Yuri (and when he probably noticed Yuri couldn't handle it himself). That man was absolutely ready to throw hands. When Yuri was crying in the infirmary, Jiro said something interesting... to "wait until *we're* alone." Not "you." "We." This means, of course, that Yuri has let his guard down in front of Jiro before. More than once, I would assume with that kind of response. Then the tenderness when he asks MC to "keep him from losing his way..." I also have to note the proud smile he had when Yuri was revealing the truth of the matter to everyone. I love their dynamic so much. They clearly depend on each other, but they are independent enough to not give in to each other when there's a difference in opinion. Just a match of wits with a touch of snark. But when something does happen, they do whatever they can to help one another. Even having just struggled to awake from a small coma, Jiro uses everything he's got to relay that important tidbit of information to Yuri. Jiro *needed* to tell him about the discrepancy. I loved it all - start to finish. While MC took a bit of a back seat in this one, I feel like it was necessary to really show both Jiro and Yuri's overall dynamic and to keep the spotlight on Yuri this time.

#tokyo debunker #tdb #jiro kirisaki #yuri isami #yuri x jiro #thoughts about chapter 14 #mortkranken

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aggieharkness · 1 day ago

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Have I earned it, mother? Chp. 7

Pairing: Avis Amberg x reader

Summary: she had never realised how cold blood could feel, how raw her own hands could leave her skin, how your presence lingered in every corner of her house and in every inch of her body, but you weren't in the room with and yet your arms wrapped around her waist as if nothing had changed.

Warnings: blood, mention of torture/abuse, injuries/wounds, mention of guns, mention of character death, panic attack, nudity, medical equipment and mentions of surgeries. I promise that there's hints of fluff and pretty things as well.

Authors note: Like a zombie, slithering through the ground, I come to you all bearing gifts. Here you have the newest chapter, that has taken me far more time than I had anticipated. This is the last bit of big drama that I will write, so fluff, romance, and smut will be coming your way soon. No one worry because I will fuck Avis's brains out soon, I promise. I understand that this chapter might not be to everyone's liking but I still hope that you like it and as always, be gentle but tell me If I need to be more graphic, if I'm lacking in something. I am here for you, my dear people, I listen. I also accept ideas and suggestions that you might have. Also available on Ao3. Finally, let's thank Patti Lupone for giving us Avis Amberg.

Shoutout to @bravewithacapitalb for being my beta reader and for being there to help me when I got stuck and give me wonderful ideas. I love you and I will give you a barrel of olive oil some day. Also shoutout to @p2pecleanerwitheyes and @renyfisher for being wonderful human beings ❤️

Chp. 1 Chp. 2 Chp. 3 Chp.4 Chp.5 Chp.6

Word count: 30K (As an apology for taking so long)

Take a breath and open your eyes, my darling

Every sound was muffled, as if a pair of hands were covering her ears, her eyes moving from side to side in a sedated state when everyone around her seemed to be rushing around, up and down the hallway, doctors and nurses barking orders that echoed against the white walls. All the people around her were barely shapes, only clouds of colours that her eyes refused to focus on as the stretcher you laid on vanished through two heavy doors at the end of the foyer, leaving her standing over cold tiles. She couldn’t remember how or where her jacket was, a thin white blouse clinging to her body, the once pristine fabric now covered in splatters of blood and dirt, the imprint of your hand resting on her abdomen, the material having picked up every wrinkle of your skin, the shape of your fingers, every line that crossed your palm. She could even make out your fingerprints, the sight burning the skin beneath as much as the bitter tears that had formed in her eyes begged to fall and yet she refused. No one in that entire hospital mattered to Avis more than you, and when her trembling voice had asked the doctor if you would make it the gravely look on the older man’s face had been enough of a response, words never answering her question. That might be the last time she saw you, battered and bruised, hanging on to life by a ripping thread that she could not fix as they whisked you away. She hadn’t even got to say that she loved you.

Her entire body shook, adrenaline and fear holding her upright as grief and agony enfolded her completely, her chest rising and falling arrhythmically as she fought the sob that threatened to escape from her throat. She was perfectly aware that she was leaving dirty imprints on the clean floors, dust, sand and mud stuck to the soles of her heels as your blood dripped from her fingertips one drop at a time. She was mesmerized by the way it ran along her palm, slightly reddened by the butt pad of her shotgun, in slender rivers that followed the path of each crevasse on her hands, lingering in between her fingers before they branched out, coating her soft flesh and sinking deep on the imperfections of her skin. Only a few minutes ago the crimson liquid had burnt her skin as much as the muzzle of the weapon had caused blisters to form on the pads of her fingers, but they had been completely different sensations. She would have preferred to take a knife to the heart over and over again than to have your blood on her hands, the emotional, mental and physical pain almost too much for Avis. Standing in the hospital now it was as if instead of the molten lava that had scorched her, she was feeling the sharp edges of an icy river. Her eyes just could not steer away from the way the droplets formed around her scarlet nails and fell in slow motion, almost as if gravity both pulled them to the ground and repelled them until they crashed onto the tiles beneath her feet.

The sound was barely there, so quiet that no one should have been able to hear it, but it blasted inside Avis’s head like an explosion, a thousand bombs going off at the same time, rumbling inside the building like an earthquake that was making her tumble on her feet. She had taken a step forward, unsure of what to do with herself, and if it hadn’t been for a pair of slender and gentle hands that wrapped themselves around her arms she would have fallen down onto the hard ground, the skin of her bare knees scratched and bruised where it would have collided with the freezing tiles. Her own body was protesting against the weight that her legs had to support and the hands that aided her in standing upright, but she could not fight either of them, and as the heat of the person that was keeping her on her feet seeped through her blouse onto her skin she felt the freezing touch of your hands on her. It was as if Death had greeted her, it’s bony fingers clinging to your body as your lungs fought to draw breath, Avis’s hands never letting go of yours thinking that having her close could bring you comfort, her soft words, laced with anguish and the hint of tears that she refused to cry in front of you, begging you to not leave her. She still had the sound of your raggedy breaths engraved in her brain, carved in blood and fire so deeply that it left her lightheaded.

Guilt sliced through her like a dagger, a constant train of what-ifs running on a loop in her mind. If she hadn’t let you leave the night before none of this would have happened, if she had listened to what her heart was telling her instead of being so terrified of what her daughter or everyone else would think if they saw you enter her house and not leave until the early morning she would not be standing in a hospital praying and begging to any and every God that wanted to hear her to please save your life. If she had held onto you instead of watching you slip through her fingers like smoke no one would have got hurt and she wouldn’t have had to kill a man, something that she both regretted and knew was the only way out. She would not be crying venomous tears that clawed at her skin and ripped her cheeks to shreds for the only person who had loved her for her and who she had learned to love back, no fake smiles and expensive presents given to her to hide all those things she already knew were happening behind her back. Ace was barely a few floors away from her and the thought of seeing him hadn’t even crossed her mind, all her attention on you and the memory of your broken body, cold under her touch. How was she meant to give the image of the worried wife when the person she truly loved, the other half of her beating heart, was fighting for her life?

None of this should have ever happened, not for a film, not for the studio, they were only material things that could be replaced, restarted from scratch but the loss of a human life could never be fixed. She was well aware of such a fact, the sight of Lon gurgling and choking in his own blood flashing before her eyes for an instant, a shiver running down her spine in disgust, and as much as she regretted having been forced to reach such a point it was impossible for Avis to feel full remorse for her actions. They had taken you in the night, like the criminals they were, and had let Lon do whatever he pleased, Ace partially to be blamed for having granted him far too much freedom all these years, and for what? Among all the anguish that poisoned her blood, she felt rage, a fury that she had never felt before that rotted inside her and made her feel like the worst human being on the planet though there was no real reason for her to feel such a thing. But the guilt crawled through every pore and chanted in her mind that she was to be blamed because she had green-lighted Meg and she had accepted the position of head of the Studio when she could have easily handed it to Dick, maybe even to the board, and it was her, and only her choices, that had ended up with you barely alive in her arms. There was a hole in her chest so deep, so vast that she feared she might never recover, withering like a rose as winter drew in. If she lost you, your sparkling eyes closed forever, your angelic face still for all eternity with no smile to lift her spirits and make Avis’s heart leap in her chest, bruises and wounds she would never forget hidden under layers of makeup that showed only a glimpse of who you had been, she would lay beside your coffin and force Death to claim her because a life with you would be like a universe with no stars, forests without trees, her body without a heart and soul.

Her entire being felt as if it was caught in a hurricane, emotions drowning and confusing her in a whirlwind that swept her off her feet and left her floating in between rough winds that cut through her skin like sharp shards of glass, words written in your blood carved onto the weapons as they dug onto her body. Each word lingered like the last embers of a fire, and it felt as if they had been tattooed on her skin, blistering her flesh and consuming her in a constant wave of pain that she couldn’t escape. A rogue curl had fallen from her perfect updo, the ginger tones masking the specks of blood her hands had inadvertently left on her soft hair as it brushed her cheek, flyways twisting in frizzy ringlets on the back of her neck, where the warm breath of a person touched her skin. Hints of a floral perfume mixed with the metallic stench her body was immersed in, her brain slowly comprehending that Ellen was the one holding her up even if she was risking staining her blue suit with your blood. Nausea began to build as the smell became unbearable, Avis lulling her head back as her face turned pale, fighting with all her might to not vomit in front of everybody; she would never be able to face them. Not that she could find it in herself to turn around, afraid of what half a dozen pairs of eyes would see on her face and shaky frame, dishevelled and utterly miserable and broken, but worse of all was what she might see on theirs.

Would they pity her or be afraid of her? She could not blame them for choosing either of those options, after all, she was asking herself that same question, but if she were to turn around and face the answer when she was so down, when her heart had been ripped out of her chest and sliced until it laid in shreds on the cold tiles of the hospital hallway, she would not be able to recover. Ellen took a step to her left, dragging Avis along with her but the woman’s body sagged heavily on the other one’s slender arms, black heels scraping the tiles as the ginger tried to get her legs to work, weak and trembling as the adrenaline she had been running on began to fade leaving an amorphous mass of aching muscles and stinging scrapes behind, the small wounds she hadn’t even noticed before adorning her hands in a gruesome spectacle. She hadn’t even seen the skin that had been peeled on her index finger from where her flesh had gotten caught on the trigger of the shotgun. She was no longer paying attention to her surroundings, voices barely making their way to her ears as Ellen carried on pulling her towards the side, her oak eyes glued to her hands once more as if she was only now noticing what your nails and hers had done to her skin, hidden underneath the blood that was beginning to dry, coagulating and thickening around her wrists and on her palms, leaving a horribly disgusting sensation behind.

With clumsy steps, Ellen managed to get Avis to the closest seats, black wooden chairs that were clearly too uncomfortable to sit on for long periods of time, but whether her friend noticed or not was of very little importance to her. As soon as the back of the redhead’s knees hit the cold seat her body crumpled down, legs completely unable to support her any longer. How could she feel everything so raw, so vividly and at the same time be so numb? It made no sense. There could never be enough words to describe the turmoil inside her, the pain, the shame, the regret, the anger… it was a mix of it all that ravaged her mind and slammed against her skin, destroying everything in its path and leaving nothing but rubble and dust behind. Every moment of her life had been the same, controlled, measured, even when she went down to the gas station, did she do it knowing how and where, but you had changed all that. For the first time in her life there was excitement, there was the thrill of sharing experiences with someone, not out of duty, but because you cared, there was a reason for her to wake up in the morning and get through the day, your smile shining around every corner, your eyes a constant in her mind, their life and eternal light getting her through the worst. You had given Avis her life back, her reason for existing, and now all she had was your blood clinging to her, suffocating her as the splatters turned into thin, sharp tendrils of crimson poison that wrapped around her neck, trapping her, slicing through her flesh.

She was falling apart, breaking piece by piece with each passing second, feeling how her own blood was seeping from in between the cracks like a waterfall, leaving her dry, barely alive even if in truth her body still drew breath and the droplets that stained her skirt and slid down her legs were not her own. Never before had Avis felt as if nothing but glass was coursing through her veins, the pain never-ending, escalating by the minute like a constant reminder that it was her fault, and she could not escape, chained forever by her actions to the freezing ground as water rose all around her, threatening to drown her. Ellen’s face was maybe a foot from hers, but her features were blurry, incoherent shapes that her eyes could not focus on, her mind too distraught and busy to pay attention to her, or perhaps she was frozen in time, stuck still in the car with your broken body in her arms, pushing clammy strands of hair from your face as if that would make the wheezing your lungs produced less gravely, as if your eyes would open and look at her once more as if nothing had happened. But it had, and her perfectly planned and controlled life had been smashed to the ground, dust clouding her mind, voices in her head screaming at the top of their lungs making her deaf, unable to hear anything but her own guilt. She wanted to run away from it all, to make it stop.

The night you came to her house for the first time with your old coat around your frame and a never-ending line of documents in your hands, she had thought you another of her husband’s conquests. A pretty young thing who wanted nothing but to become a star, after all, that was the only reason she had heard for more than twenty years why people move to Hollywood, but when you had told her that that was not your case, she had taken an instant interest in you. You were… unusual, to say the least, and you most certainly were worthy of her attention after what you had done with her, matching or even surpassing Jack and Ernie, but you had not left her after that. You had showered her with affection, your eagerness to please her endearing to her flirty nature, and as you shared more of your time with her, she became drunk in the way your eyes lingered on her body as if she was a diamond, completely enthralled and bewitched by the way you were making her fall in love without realising it. You had shifted her entire life into something worth fighting for, had made her trust her own decisions and stand firmly on both her feet, only to be caught in the crossfire in the end. You would be safe if she had stayed in her lane, if she had not taken charge like Ace had wanted her to, but as much as she wanted to blame him, he had not given the order to produce Meg, she had. To her she seemed as if she had been the one who had killed you with her own bare hands.

And it stung. Her skin, her muscles, her very own blood choked her with disgust and anger at herself, crawling through every inch of her flesh like a thousand cockroaches and spiders that wanted to eat her alive until nothing, but bones remained, but even then, she would not escape the guilt and the absolute grief that knocked her to the ground. She had shared things with you that she had never been able to tell Ellen, her best friend for more than a decade, your tender touch drying her tears, your rosy lips letting words of love and kindness drip onto Avis’s skin like a balm, healing her, picking up the pieces that life had left for you and building her again, gold and roses sealing each piece with each kiss. She could not bear the thought of never hearing your voice again, of not having you there to console her and tell her that everything would be alright, her secrets and her love laying beside you under soil and dirt as her tears soaked the ground under her, infertile lands that would never grow a single daisy, a single rose, vast plains of sand and rocks where not a drop of rain would ever fall. Void of life, matching the black hole inside her chest that fed on her despair, taking her light and her breath, with it, leaving her freezing on her chair, feeling the rivulets of your blood sliding down her flesh like snakes.

Would this be her life if you didn’t survive? A walking corpse, living half a life with the remorse that she could have prevented it all by keeping you in her arms, by leaving with you that night, by having pressed you more into staying. A thousand what-ifs ran rampant in her head, each making her feel worse than the one before, fuelling the fury and rage that hadn’t left her since she had seen the cross, only now anguish seemed to her guide and agony her path as a rain of daggers made pain a constant. The grip on the edge of the chair made her knuckles turn white under the dry and cracking layer of blood, following and seeping into every single crevasse and pore on both the palm and back of her hands, her vision unfocused. Ellen was fighting a lost battle, trying her best to gain her attention when Avis was in fact miles away from the hospital, lost in a hurricane that no one could save her from, slender fingers rubbing soothing circles on the ginger’s arms to no avail. The touch never registered inside Avis’s mind, lost in the ocean that separated her from reality, her body sitting on that dammed chair when her mind was still in that house, in the car, in every room of her house, and every room of yours, following the traces of your perfume as if she could find you and take you in her arms, clam her raging heart and tell herself that everything had been a nightmare. She had never wanted anything more in her life than to hear that you would come home with her, terror bubbling inside her as the thought of planning your funeral hit her like a building collapsing on top of her.

How on Earth would she do it if you didn’t make it? How would she choose your coffin, the flowers, the music… when all she would think about was the fact that her bed would forever remain empty, cold even if Ace woke up and returned home? You touch would linger on her skin, your ghost haunting her and the halls of her house with whispers and freezing clouds of future that had been take form you, Avis chasing you and your memory for all eternity as she lost herself to a madness that she never wanted to get over, because in that state of mind, losing all sense of reality, you would still be there. The tears that had gathered in her big, sorrowful eyes, broke through her will and fell in quick succession, burning her skin raw, leaving a bitter taste that mixed with the metallic stench that clung to her like a second skin. She had dreamt of a church filled with flowers, every corner breathing in lilacs and whites as she made you her wife, the love of her life walking down the aisle dressed in silks and lace of the purest pearly white, a dream that now could turn into the worst nightmare she had ever lived, the baby breaths and roses turning into lilies as her clothes bled into the deepest black the universe had ever seen, matching her rotting soul. She could not lose you and yet she could not stop thinking that no matter what happened today she would always remain your partner, your friend, and your wife until her heart stopped beating and her lungs expelled her last breath, and if life had deemed it right to claim your life, a fact she would forever resent, she would be your widow.

There were no clocks on the wall all throughout the hallway, but she still heard the incessant ticking of time that spoke of all the seconds lost into a past that could not be changed. Avis was finding it so hard to cling onto what little hope she had left inside her, the baby lights shining so dimly that the darkness that had built in her mind kept hiding them from her, its warmth at the tip of her fingertips, almost there for her to grasp only to be pushed away to the edges of the firmament. Why couldn’t she trade her life for yours? She would rather lay on a stretcher battered and bruised beyond recognition if you remained untouched, not a scratch on your beautiful body, your locks pristine and soft, your cheeks rosy and full of life, your perfect eyes glowing still as if they were not fighting to hold on to a ripping thread. Avis was freefalling down an abyss where there was no bottom, just an endless sight of darkness that took her away from you, or perhaps it was you who was being taken from her, but why would it matter, there was a rift building between you two that she couldn’t cross. She had never truly noticed until now how incredibly cold hospitals were, freezing in truth, tiles everywhere slamming shards of ice onto her skin, Ellen still trying desperately to get her attention. The blond could not remember a single day in her life when her friend had looked as lost and broken as today; the great Avis Amberg was crumbling in front of everyone and neither Avis herself nor Ellen knew what to do to prevent it, or if they should.

Sounds became bombs, and every breath, every footstep echoed inside her head as if she had an orchestra playing, every single instrument off-key and untuned playing a hellish aria that could make her head explode any moment. Everything irritated her, everyone unimportant to her right now, and suddenly all that she had been numb to only a few moments ago raked at her flesh, driving her insane, angering her exhausted frame to the point that without thought she pushed herself to a standing position. Ellen tumbled back, Dick quick to grab her so she wouldn’t end up on the floor, both pairs of eyes watching dumbfounded as Avis walked down the hall before pausing and retracing her steps. She was not herself, that was clear in the way her body sagged with each step, heels clashing and crushing against the tiles as her hands pulled on her clothes, nails piercing through her skin as the physical pain spread like wildfires all over, but it did nothing to quiet down her screaming mind. All she wanted to do was to make it stop, to sit in silence as she let sorrow consume her, but the world was too loud, too fast, too careless and cruel and its weight was killing her the same way it had done to you. Was this how love was supposed to feel when things were wrong? As if her heart was dying with you, like there was no tomorrow unless it was with you? If it was so, she had no desire to keep it, because she could not escape the pain, the memories that she held onto as if she was the one barely alive turning bitter with each breath she took, constricting her chest. If this was love, she would rather die than to be told you were gone. She could not bear a single second in this world if she could not go home with you.

Her entire body shook, trembling as if the entire planet was succumbing to an earthquake, tiles, chairs, and people fading in and out of Avis’s line of vision as she struggled to push air into her lungs. Everything around her was so bright, forcing her to close her eyes in an attempt to dim it somewhat, black spots dancing under her eyelids as she tumbled on her feet, hands flying in the air looking for something or someone to hold onto. They landed harshly over the freezing walls, contrasting with her almost feverish body, sagging and melting as her legs lost all strength, giving up under her. She was collapsing, exactly the same way her world was falling apart, every cell unable to breathe, lungs begging for an oxygen that Avis could not provide, the tears mixing with your blood as they fell over her ruined clothes scorching every inch of skin they touched as if they could leave blisters behind. Her knees bent, hitting the harsh material the walls were made out of as her ankles threatened to twist, her heels feeling like a thousand needles, her clothes like plaster that trapped her, unable to move. For an instant her eyes opened and focused on her hands, fingers leaving macabre paintings over the white tiles as her palms slid down, following her exhausted frame, traces of blood imprinted forever in between invisible cracks, Avis’s fingerprints fading before her eyes as the crimson streaks carried on forever. Her palms smeared your blood as if her flesh was completely covered on it, dripping thickly over her eyelids, falling off the tip of her nose, staining her lips and drowning her as if the only thing she could fill her lungs with was the hot metallic liquid that burnt her insides like lava.

She was on the verge of passing out, falling like rags on the ground, when two strong hands wrapped around her torso and pulled her up, pushing her off the wall as her eyes observed the work left behind, grotesque shapes of monstruous trails and partially imprinted palms staring back at her as the deep red liquid dripped towards the ground. Her feet never made contact with the floor. She was swept into someone’s warm arms, a whiff of pine and whiskey hitting her nostrils, but the smell did not make her nauseous as it mixed with the metallic stench, it was, in fact, a comforting aroma that she tried to hold onto with both hands, fingers curling around the fabric of a white shirt, colours that she could make out through the tears. This was exactly what she had been trying to avoid, to be seen as weak by the people who were supposed to rely on her, to see a leader, someone they could trust, but she was now only a shell of her flamboyant persona, a broken item that people would run away from. She was supposed to be Avis fucking Amberg, not whatever she had turned into, whatever this was! How could anyone look at her and expect her to lead them ever again when all they could see was a weak, crushed woman? They would never respect her again, she thought, they would never look at her the same, and that brought a sense of defeat that she hated with every fibre of her being. Gently Jack walked over to the seats, placing her back on the chair she had just vacated with Ellen hovering over his shoulder, pale as snow, slender fingers aching to comfort her friend, but Avis did not want to let go of the man’s shirt, or perhaps she couldn’t, locked in place. Every joint and muscle felt stiff, the adrenaline in her bloodstream vanishing like smoke, fading and leaving behind an utterly depleted and trembling body that fought with all its might to sustain Avis.

-Mrs. Amber, please, calm yourself down.

-Listen to the man, Avis. Breath.

Had Ellen always sounded so sharp, so high pitched that it grated her nerves while at the same time, it made her blood freeze in her veins? She wasn’t a cruel or rude woman by nature; Avis could not think of a single moment in the woman’s life when she had been nothing but gentle and caring, and yet her words were commanding, though in the ginger’s current state of mind, she had not picked up on the worrisome tone that had laced the blond’s words. Oxygen, she needed oxygen, no matter how much, just enough so that the ever-growing black spots would vanish, so the weight on her chest would stop crushing her lungs and ribs, but she could not seem to get her brain to respond. Her heart was pounding a thousand miles per minute, her ears ringing as blood pumped through her veins at such a speed that she was beginning to fear her entire body would explode, which made her shallow breaths ever more rapid and arrhythmic. Ellen kept trying to get through to Avis, but half of the words got lost in the rattling of noises and screams that echoed inside her head, and as her skin turned paler, a gruesome contrast with the splatters of blood, Jack took matters into his own hands.

-Ms. Kincaid, bring me ice, as much as you can.

-Ice? Why?

-Yes, just trust me, please. Hurry or she’s going to pass out. – she had not a single inkling why he would ask for such a thing, but she gave him the benefit of the doubt and rushed down the hallway and out through the white swinging doors, the sound of rubber scratching on the ground along with the screeching of the hinges floating in the air like invisible dust that gathered around the congregation, adorning and accompanying the whispers that fell from thin cracked lips.

-At least we are in a hospital if push comes to shove.

-Henry! What the fuck is wrong with you?!

Through the corner of her eye, Dick’s form moved as the blurry shape of a dark suit that stood a few inches shorter than the brown one next to him, and even though her puffy brown eyes could not see it, he was fulminating the younger man with a look that clearly meant for him to shut his mouth. He really did not know how to read a room Dick thought angrily, and so in an attempt to calm things down, Henry raised his hands in surrender and turned away, returning to his seat. Had Avis been her usual self she would have given him a run for his money, but alas she was still holding onto Jack’s shirt as if he was the only thing that was keeping her grounded, fighting to breathe as his hands ran up and down her arms. What must he think of me, she thought? A woman who had commanded him, who had stood on top as he pleased her and did everything she desired, a woman he owed his career to, to a certain extent, turned into what? She didn’t even know who she was, what she felt, what was left of her. But if only for a moment, just an instant, she could read his mind, see what he did, she would find that he didn’t see any of those flaws, the cracks she was so terrified of. She was so much more than just that façade she went around flaunting, she was a layered, complicated woman that not many had the pleasure to see in predicaments like this, and although what they had shared had been strictly business and had ended months ago, he did care for her. She had been through enough in her life, why did she keep getting knocked off her feet like this, the harsh cement scraping her hands and knees, making her bleed until she had the strength to get back up again only to end up back over the dirt, bruised?

She didn’t deserve this. Jack had listened to her during that first encounter, the pain and the sadness that had laced every word in a way that she thought no one would pick up, breaking his heart little by little. How could he not when her eyes had been screaming for love, for anything, to anyone who would listen? Every moment spent with her had been filled with an aura of expensiveness and power he had not minded, a sense of respect, and to be honest, fear, running down his spine every single time, but beneath that tough exterior, an insecure, emotionally starved woman rested, a side of her he had only gotten a glimpse of on rare occasions and that now sat bare and open before them all. He had never thought anyone, or anything could crack Avis Amberg like this, but then again you were not an accessory in the woman’s life, you were everything to her, an extension of her being that anyone with eyes could see, two hearts beating in unison. Hearing Mr. Samuels speak hurriedly about what had happened to you had been a shock for the entire cast, and as Jack, Archie and Rock gathered their things to aid Avis he had stopped for an instant and wondered how she must have felt, how she was handling everything. Ace had never been particularly loving towards her, forcing a cold, tough layer of rejection to be cast over the hurt interior that had shaped Avis into the woman she was now, but you had shattered all that slowly with each kiss, every whisper and glimpse of affection you had thrown her way, melting the wax that had encapsulated her, freeing her at last like a butterfly that set flight for the very first time. Knowing that she could lose you at any moment had been just as rough back then as it was now, though kneeling before her trembling frame trying to prevent her from hyperventilating herself into a fainting spell, he began to think this aftermath was worse. He had not been ready for the sight that had welcomed him when Avis had returned from the half-demolished house, he had most certainly not been ready for what had been left behind in the hospital hallway.

Ringlets of ginger hair had swayed in the midday warm breeze, caressing the nape of her neck and her pale cheeks, all colour had drained from her face as the image of Lon gurgling and coking in his own blood played on a loop in her mind, as fresh as the splatters of the crimson liquid that had landed on her skin, like macabre freckles that painted her flesh, shards of bone having flown towards her legs shredding her stockings, small bleeding scrapes on her shins that his eyes picked up on briefly. The shotgun rested in a grip so hard her knuckles had turned white, Ellen running behind her completely out of breath but Jack’s gaze was not on the blond, blue eyes taking in the dishevelled and panicked look that shadowed Avis’s features as if the sun had vanished from the sky, the world eternally forced to live in perpetual darkness, no moonlight to show the way, no stars sprinkled in the navy canvas that spread above their heads. Jack was used to fear and terror, after all, he had fought in a war, but for some reason all that could not compare to the way fury mixed with horror in a way that made his skin crawl, Avis’s deep brown eyes reflecting every emotion as if her very soul was an open book. His hands had travelled down to her hips as his thoughts swirled deep in his mind, coming to rest gently over her knees after a moment, the touch of her cold skin and ruined stockings under his palms pulling him from his memories to stare at that same face that shone with bitter tears, the crystal liquid turning pink as they picked up the red beads that had dried over her flesh. Neither of them could say if it was yours or Lons.

On his wrist a small golden watch ticked, the tiny black clock hands showing to everyone each second passed, the way a single second turned into a minute, then another, and as they accumulated in the air there was still no sign of Ellen, no footsteps to break the deafening silence that enfolded Avis’s rapid breaths. There was a constant rain of questions in her head that flooded the floor with no answers in sight to vanish them, making her feel as if she had lost complete control of her life, begging silently for a doctor or a nurse to come out and tell her what was going on, if you needed anything because she would give it to you, be it a better hospital, better staff, her own organs, her own blood, anything you required, but the hallway remained impassive to her suffering. She had been defeated, she thought, by her own hand to be exact, actions and consequences meeting in the same place at the same time at last. Jack’s hands remained on her, never ceasing the reassuring movements, not that they worked at this point, sobs fighting her physically to escape her throat as it gasped for air, the sounds making everyone around her watch in horror as she turned paler by the minute, veins visible under her translucent skin, but the boy would not give up so easily. With gentle hands his fingers travelled down her claves to her feet, and although the gesture might not look like much to others, he removed Avis’s shoes as tenderly as he could, placing her feet firmly against the freezing tiles.

The gasp that parted from her blueish lips was the first proper time her lungs had drawn breath in several minutes, the crisp, antiseptic air filling her chest in shock, but Jack knew more needed to be done. The ground would match her temperature soon enough and the shock would fade back to her panicking persona, but he could not leave her, not when her hands were still holding onto his shirt. He had to wait, much to his dismay, until Ellen returned. He would have to throw the garment away he thought, the fibres of the fabric ruined, soaking up your blood like a sponge, but he could afford to lose a shirt, there were millions of them on the planet, but no one in that entire hallway could afford to lose you. Next to him Dick and Henry talked in hushed words, the topic redundant to the task at hand, and yet Jack could not help wondering what was so important that had to be discussed right then and there when there were definitely more important things to take care of, but he was in no real position to interrupt them. The sound of a heel on the floor reached the young boy’s ears after a few instants, his head perking up to make sure he was not hallucinating, and just as he did that another one filled the space until the blond appeared through the swinging doors with a glass bowl in her hands, rushing back towards them. Her slender hands and bony fingers cradled the ice as if it was the most important object in the universe, as if those same hands had not touched Oscars, sculptures and paintings, not to mention pieces of jewellery that cost more than Jack’s own life. Nearly slipping on the ground as water dripped from the edges, Ellen kneeled on the floor next to him.

-What do I do with this?

-Help me pry her hands off my shirt and put them in the ice.

-But won’t it shock her… Oh! I get it now. You work on the left one, I’ll handle the right one.

It wasn’t an easy task as Avis’s grip was iron like, hard and nearly unbreakable, but with enough determination the both of them worked on prying each finger off, the boy not caring much about ending up covered in blood, matching the stains on Ellen’s once pristine blue suit and Dick’s dark one, although you could not see them unless the sun hit him directly on the front. Avis fought against them at first, terror dripping from her eyes in between the sharp tears that seemed to never end, but her body was growing weak, and soon enough the warmth of the fabric changed to the heat of each their bodies as they finally worked her hands of his shirt, revealing imprints of scarlet red that would soon dry and remain there forever. Without a moment to lose Jack grabbed the ice and dunked Avis’s hand inside it, Ellen following suit, feeling the slicing cold on her skin, but her pain did not matter, blue eyes watching intently as her friend yelped and gasped once again, but this new shock to her system lasted longer, bringing with the sudden drop of temperature a physical pain that knocked her of her feet. It felt like a complete reset, as if her body had shut down for less than a second and then restarted again. Her tumultuous mind quiet for the first time in what seemed to be hours, breaking the cycle of self-deprecation and guilt she had fallen into, tears ceasing to fall at the unexpected touch of the ice on her sensitive skin, brushing painfully over her blisters and cuts, but neither Jack nor Ellen let her lift her hands. It somehow forced her brain to focus on only single thing instead of the millions of thoughts that had taken her mind hostage, registering one sense at a time, in this case, touch.

-Come on Mrs. Amberg, in in four and out in four. You can do it. – her gaze fell on his kind face, seeing him through the dark spots that had began to slowly fade in her eyes, hearing his deep calming voice as he counted. One, two, three, four. She took a deep breath and held it until the countdown began again. One, two, three, four. It was slow but sure work, and at last oxygen began to enter her system regularly, steadily filling her lung and every cell in her bloodstream, the dizziness she hadn’t even noticed before vanishing like smoke as a tender breeze swept through the hallway, taking with it every ailment she could possibly have and leaving behind only an exhausted body. With each inhale pine overwhelmed the bloody stench, whiffs of vanilla accompanying the fresh aroma as Ellen got closer to her. She had never thought of how sweet her friend’s perfume was, nor how manly but formal Jack smelled. Her mind could almost imagine your gentle berries lotion caressing her skin. – That’s the way to do it Mrs. Amberg. We can stay here as long as you need. In. One, two, three, four.

What sweet sound silence was, no screams, no madness that pulled her into a hurricane of insanities and grief, no voices grating at her nerves and playing with her emotions, kicking her while she was down, when she could not defend herself. It was heavenly to only have Jack in her head, not even herself as it was still stuck on the feeling of the terrible ice. It really was true what they said that one’s worst enemy was their own mind. Her panic melted of her body bit by bit like the wax of a candle, flames consuming them until nothing, but cold hard white rivers were left over metal candlesticks, specks landing on top of wooden tables that would never be removed. Parts of it still lingered under her skin, and would probably do so for the rest of her life, but with each silent tick of Jack’s watch her heartrate slowed down to a pace somewhat normal, the wheezing and sharp sounds of her lungs begging for help no longer in existence as they drew breath with relative ease, the boy’s voice fading into nothing as the attack passed. Chocolate irises could not bear to hold gaze with either pair of blue eyes, watching instead in disgusted fascination the way the ice melted under her palms, turning what once had been a most perfectly crystal clear water into a sea of pinks and deep shade reds that froze over the first thin layers of the mismatched cubes as blood clots fell to the bottom of the bowl, thin, translucent trails left behind, but this could never even begin to wash it off her skin. She feared it was all part of her now, forever stamped on her body.

-Avis? – Ellen’s hand rested gently on the woman’s forearm, making her stare at the wet but warm fingers of her friend. She had never noticed the many wrinkles that decorated the pale skin, how short her nails were nor the way not a single spot blemished the back of her hand. They were small details that made Ellen so inherently herself but that for some reason the ginger had never seen before. – Avis, look at me. Please. – as much as she wished to run away from the surely pitiful glares she was going to encounter, she lifted her head, not ready to see the disappointment in everyone’s faces but at the same time unable to deny her friend her request when she voiced it with such a pained tone. As brown locked with blue she did not find a single trace of all those feelings that had been clawing at her, only worry. – Are you alright?

-I… Yes.

-You had us all so worried there for a moment. I was sure we would have to call for a doctor or a nurse. Are you certain you are fine?

-I am, Ellen. As fine as I can be under these circumstances.

-It’s not the answer I wanted but it will have to do. Take your hands out of the ice before you lose a finger. – Jack remained silent as Avis removed her hands, drying them on a handkerchief Dick was gallant enough to hand her, the soft touch of white linen on her wounds gentle and tender, even if the ice had numbed the pain a little bit. From the corner of her eye she observed the young boy, his hands inches from her bare feet, his countenance reserved, almost as if he feared she would yell at him at any given moment. Was he still terrified of her after what he had witnessed? Her hands trembled slightly as she grabbed his chin and forced their eyes to meet, but the gesture wasn’t harsh, her body could not manage harsh right now, and in those deep blue irises of his she found distress.

-Jack… Thank you.

-I… Of course, Mrs. Amberg.

-What is it?

-I don’t think I understand the question.

-Why are you looking at me as if you had just been through Hell? Did I say something or do something to you?

-No, not at all. It’s just… Well, I have come to think of you as some sort of friend and…

-And what? – How did she do it? Moved from nearly collapsing in his arms to looking at him with anything but kindness as if he was the one who had just been through the most traumatic thing in the universe and not her. Her hand caressed his cheek before it fell back on her lap, Ellen having removed the bowl from her friend’s thighs and leaving it on the floor to the side.

-You scared me. I had never seen something like this, not since the war and it was horrible to be face to face with the fear and the panic all over again, only that it was a thousand times worse because it was happening to you. You don’t deserve this Mrs. Amberg, no one does, but you, out of everyone I’ve ever known, are the one who deserves it the least. You should have never been forced to feel such horrors.

-Oh, Jack.

-I mean it. You are my friend, at least I think of you as one, and someone as wonderful as you should never have to live through things like this.

-Life is not fair, my boy. The worst of people could live forever not facing a single consequence for their actions, while kind people, like you, have to face hardship after hardship. I’m hardly a saint, Jack.

-But you are no monster either. It is of no concern to me what you might have done in your life, but I am sure that it is not as bad as what has been done to you. You are finally happy; life can’t be so cruel as to rob you of that.

If only things worked like that, she thought. If only life could wait and let the world fix their mistakes before they sentenced them to pay for their crimes, but alas it kept on turning, waiting for no one, pausing for nothing, time running away from everyone’s hands as the hourglass turned only once, swirls of sand falling until the very last drop flew through the air. He was still so young with so many things to learn, and Avis felt so old, the decades she had lived falling heavily on her shoulders. There were so many things she wanted to say to him but all of them felt discouraging, heartless at most, and she did not wish to dim that beautiful light the boy possessed, a light that only yours could outshine. He had lit her up in every encounter they had shared but it could simply not be compared to the way you had uplifted her, put her in a pedestal and worshipped her as if she was the most precious work of art, dressing her in gold and placing roses at her feet, your essence, your light, forever casting a most perfect halo over her skin and underneath it. A shine that comforted and gave her the strength to carry on every day of her life since the moment she met you. You were younger than Jack and somehow you carried the wisdom of a thousand lifetimes that lingered in the way you walked, on the taps of your fingertips over wood, in each look and every word that fell from your lips, sweet as candy and soothing as honey.

What wouldn’t she give to be staring at you right now and not at him, your baby blue dress draping around your bent knees like waterfalls, the gentle touch of your fingers barely making contact with her ankles instead of Jack’s calloused hands? Silence filled the foyer like an invisible gas that had rendered everyone mute. Suddenly heavy doors screeched, hinges screaming as they were pushed open making heads turn as fast as muscles would allow, a sharp pain running down Ellen’s neck at the motion, but she did not complain. A man in a white coat stepped into the hallway, years of medical practice engraved on his mature face as the heaviness of loss and work weighted him down, curving his spine as he made his way to the congregation. This was it, Avis thought, the moment everyone had been desperately waiting for. Her entire life was about to change, either for good or bad, and in both cases it made anxiety rise in her chest once more, completely unready for the grief that might slip from his thin lips, a nervousness that she could not control. But there was no need for her to do so, not when Jack, Ellen, Dick and the rest of them were there for her, would be there for her no matter what, and as the man’s steps got closer, the two of them held onto her injured hands with a caring and comforting touch. Her breath caught on her throat as soon as the man’s polished black shoes paused a couple of feet from them.

-Mrs. Amberg.

-Doctor Friedman. How… how’s Y/N?

-She’s stable for now. She did come in an awful state, I won’t lie, and she will need time to recover from the extensive injuries, but for now the surgery we performed to handle the internal bleeding was successful.

-So, she will recover? She’ll survive?

-You brought her in with several bruised and even broken ribs, a dislocated shoulder that we were able to handle before he took her to theatre, a punctured lung and bleeding spleen, along with many other minor injuries that the nurses are handling now. She was very very lucky, Mrs, Amberg. I can’t say that she will have the same life she did before, but she should get better, yes. -never before had she heard sweeter words. Angels were singing in her head as she released the breath she had been holding, the weight that had been crushing her for hours finally freeing her from its destructive grip. Relief was coursing through her veins as the doctor’s statement sank deeply inside her brain. You would be alright. Everything would be fine. And yet the man’s voice spoke in a gravely tone, his features darkened by the seriousness of the situation, putting a damper on Avis’s happiness for a moment. – I must warn you that her recovery will be slow. She is to be confined to a bed for at least a month, until I’m sure that her ribs have healed enough for her to stand without pain and once her legs are able to support her.

-What’s wrong with her legs?

-Her right ankle is broken, and she has a crack on her left femur, probably caused by a blunt object hitting her. I don’t know what happened to her and I don’t want to know, but it’s a miracle I’m not treating her for dozens of broken bones. She really is a fighter.

-For how long will she have to stay in the hospital?

-I cannot give you a specific amount of time, I’m afraid. It all depends on whether her lab work comes back within acceptable ranges and if there is no risk of her suffering any more harm once her body has begun to recover. We shall cross that bridge when we to it, if that’s acceptable to you Mrs. Amberg?

-Of course. Anything to make sure Y/N heals without issue. Could I… could I see her?

-I would usually say no as she is still in a very precarious situation, but I can give you a minute or two with her. She’s still under the effects of the anaesthetic and we did have to put her on a ventilator to reduce the stress on her respiratory system, so I’m giving you a heads up that the sight might be quite distressing, but it is only temporary. Can you handle that?

It crossed her mind to mention Ace’s state, just for an instant, how she had grown used to the sight of him surrounded by tubes that breathed for him, but her better judgment prevented those words from ever slipping out of her mouth. Without a second thought though she nodded her head, extracting her hands from Jack and Ellen’s tender grip, lifting herself off the chair and taking one single step towards the doctor. Jack’s hand on her knee stopped her just as her still trembling body had been about to take a second one, turning her head towards the kneeling boy to see him holding her shoes in his other hand. A sigh escaped from her red lips, the carmine slightly smudged on the corners of her mouth as she let him put them on. When Avis had been little, her mouther used to tell her stories before she had gone to sleep, tales from the old continent that she still remembered to this day, stories that she had read to Claire when she had been a child, before everything had turned to shit in her life. This very moment reminded her of one of those charming fairytales, but reality could never be as beautiful as the scenes in that worn-out book. Jack was not her prince charming putting on a glass slipper on her dainty foot, she was hardly a princess or even one of those ladies that wore tiaras and danced in room decorated with brocades and gold, and there would be no castle at the other side of the heavy doors. Avis’s princess charming was currently somewhere in this hospital asleep, waiting for her love to come and see her even though there would be no kiss that could heal you from the horrors that had transpired that day.

Her heels echoed against the tiles as she followed the doctor silently down the hall, feeling everyone’s eyes glued to the back of her head, but she never turned. She needed to see you, she needed to make sure that the words spoken to her were real and not just flimsy things that could easily be forgotten, taken by freezing drafts of cruel wind, and if she turned, even if it was for a single moment, and locked eyes with Ellen or Dick, her resolve would crumble. They would question her with one glance, and then she would begin to doubt herself, wondering if she really wanted to expose herself to whatever was awaiting her in your room, if she really had the stomach to see you in the same state her husband was in. They wouldn’t understand the visceral need to know that she had not lost you, that she wouldn’t have to fear a phone call in the middle of the night from some nurse or other telling her in rehearsed sadness you were gone. She was beyond grateful and happy that you were alive, of course, and she highly doubted anything could ever show and express the depth of her feelings of relief and utter delight, borderline delirious, that Lon had not taken you from her, that despite every hardship, you had fought and won, but there was still that tiny little voice telling her, asking her if it was real or just a panic induced hallucinations. She would have believed the later if Dick’s handkerchief hadn’t remained in between her fingers, the once perfectly manicured nails tracing the embroidery on the edges of the linen as the doctor held the door open for her.

In the course of barely twelve hours, she had gone through every emotion known to humankind, from lust and love to terror and anger, but this new fear that was taking hold of her felt completely different from anything she had ever felt before. Your body would heal, with time, but would your mind ever truly recover from something as horrible as this? Every time she blinked Avis could see the shape of your battered body on the filthy ground of that house, blood everywhere, your once perfectly alabaster skin now black and blue, not an inch of you safe from Lon’s wrath. But that had been but an instant, even during the ride to the hospital her eyes had remained on your face, never glancing down your body otherwise she would have broken down in front of you and she could not afford for such a thing to happen; you had needed her. But now you were somewhere safe, and she could not help but wonder what you would think of her when you woke up and told she told you about everything. She had killed a man for you, would you think her a monster? Was she truly ready for this? Her steps halted in the middle of the floor, the doctor not noticing her absence until he was around six feet from her, turning on the heels on his feet to look at her, eyebrows raised in a questioning manner.

-Mrs. Amberg? – those deep raspy tones that Dr. Friedman carried in his voice floated up to her ears, but they sounded to her like nails raking on a board, the undertone of his question lost before it could even be processed by Avis’s brain. Why couldn’t she just stop feeling so intensely? Why couldn’t her body just turn it all down for once and let her get on with the task ahead instead of making her feel like a scared child all over again?! For the first time in decades, she wished she could hold onto her mother’s hand.

-Come on, Avis. We’ll go in together.

In the back of her mind, she could trick her brain into believing that the perfume her nostrils picked up on wasn’t Ellen’s vanilla one but the floral she had missed for over twenty years now. No matter how old she got, how many years she cradled in the wrinkles that adorned her skin, she would always wish for her mother to be there with her, guiding her, telling her that everything would be alright, that she was strong enough to go and see you, to carry what you could not the same way you had been doing for her since the cold December night. Ellen’s touch on her forearms almost felt the same as hers, kind, loving, never rushed and never harsh, simply a statement that she was there for her. Turning her head towards the blond she saw a tender smile on her thin, rosy lips, and as if time had stopped to let Avis catch her breath, it began to tick once more as both women stepped forward in unison. Perhaps she had not given her friends enough credit, she thought, far too used to all those fake people that didn’t give a single fuck about her and her feelings, always believing that no one understood her, that she was everyone’s last resort when it came to things that didn’t involve money or connections. She was never even flirted with unless she started it, which always left her devasted by the time she got home. But Ellen was always there, listening to her, walking beside her down a hospital hallway just because she knew she would need a bit of push instead of telling her what a bad idea this whole thing was.

She made a mental note that she would make more of an effort from now on to show her just how important she was and how much she loved her. After all the poor woman had seen and helped her when she was at her lowest, when she had drunk herself to sleep after arguments with Ace, when she had had difficulties with Claire… The list was endless, and she could hardly recall a single time when she had said thank you to the woman for being there; she most certainly would fix that. In a small gesture of appreciation Avis moved her left hand until it came to rest on top of Ellen’s, the warmth of the blond’s skin mixing with her own bringing a sense of comfort that was very much needed, resumed their walk after a moment. The doctor guided them all the way to the end of the hallway and through a narrow corridor on the left, stopping in front of a dark wooden door that was marked with the number 217 in metal, each symbol hammered by thick nails onto the heavy planks. Her free hand shook as she pushed it open, the sound of several machines reaching her ears as both ladies stepped into the dimly lit room. It was exactly like Ace’s she noticed, with the same boring white walls and fluorescent light bulbs that flickered every once in a while, a single small window opposite the door covered in what only could be described as the grimmest grey curtains in existence, the smell of antiseptic and blood heavy in the air.

The sight was indeed anything but grotesque, crude, simply utterly heartbreaking. Your gentle frame lay underneath white bedsheets and a grey thick blanket; your skeletal body dressed in a gown that did nothing to hide the thousands of bruises that painted your skin. Dried blood remained stuck to your golden locks, turning them dark over the pillow, a mosaic of gruesome shades that made nausea rise in Avis’s throat for a moment, the acidic taste of vomit gracing the back of her tongue. You look so small, so tiny and broken in that big bed, wires and tubes circling your body in every angle and direction possible, dark glass bottles of blood and medication handing from drips, injected into your veins through yellowish tubes and wrapped around your arms and hands to prevent them from slipping, though you showed no signs of being on the verge of waking up any time soon. There were still red tinges on the parts of your skin that were not covered in bandages or plaster, the hues of death that refused to leave you just yet, on your temple, on the tips of your fingertips, around your cracked lips that were parted by a big white tube. She was quite familiar with that machine, watching with unshed tears the way the spring moved up and down with each monitored breath, the mechanical sound in no way a stranger in her life by now. And yet it somehow echoed differently in her mind, like a million screams that all matched your voice.

She had barely noticed how she had wayed on the spot, Ellen’s grip slightly stronger on her arms as to support her, Avis’s hands now dangling from her sides like rope, her entire body like a rag doll that remained on its feet because someone else was propping her upright. Your chest rose and fell artificially, and even though the doctor had been quite clear that it was to avoid any more stress on your weak state, she could not help but wonder if it had been a lie to hide the fact that it might be keeping you alive. Would you remain forever asleep, deep in a world so far away from Avis’s that all she would ever see of you again would be this, your deteriorating body as the days passed? Every minute spent with you had been like a blessed rainfall, washing her body of all pains and miseries, granting her fresh water to drink from your hands, an angel with no wings. She desired to see you barefoot over the grass, the sun bathing your alabaster skin with a perfect golden glow, locks of hair flowing freely in the wind as dandelions floated lazily around you, perhaps a butterfly or two landing on your fingers as bees buzzed in between flowers at your feet. Every waking moment was spent imagining you without a worry in the world, in the Garden of Eden dressed in nothing but your innocence and your golden virtue, waiting for Avis to fall into your arms in nothing but her wild locks of fire, laying down next to you in a bed of white poppies that cushioned you both from the hard ground.

She wanted you in ways that she could not understand, needed you so deeply that it made her entire body ache when she was away from you, her treacherous heart begging for you to be returned to her arms. Every instant without you made her soul yearn for you in ways that could make new sins appear on black ink on parchments at the Vatican, your name written in perfect golden calligraphy as hers followed suit in a deep red, like your humble apostle. She would set the world on fire for you, to see you open your eyes and find even a glimpse of love and recognition behind them, to feel your hands squeezing hers under all that medical equipment, to hear your raspy voice saying her name, and as she took one step towards you, Ellen never letting go just in case, she felt her chest constrict in a painful wave of grief. Yes, you were alive, but you were at the same time so far away from her, within her reach and yet her fingertips never seemed to be able to touch you, an invisible sea between you. Her brown eyes raked over your frame, but they always returned to your face, cuts and bruises decorating your pale skin in a macabre painting done by a madman, strokes deliberate, calculated over your once rosy cheekbones, splitting your lips and eyebrows as if he had been breaking a brand-new canvas, slicing your flesh so he could paint the walls of your enclosure with your blood, a hellish forest of splashes and puddles of burgundy and scarlet red dripping down the concrete, deaf to your pleas and screams. Stitches closed them up now shining under the flickering lights preventing your veins and capillaries from letting a single drop of your essence fall down your skin onto the bedsheets.

Ellen’s right hand held onto hers, and with curious brown eyes Avis watched as her friend lifted them and brought them to the edge of the bed. She made no attempt to touch you, leaving that part for the ginger to do when she was ready, but she remained a constant by her side, a supporting member of a team that played one of the most important roles; to simply be there. Avis hadn’t noticed how harsh the bedsheets seemed to be under her palm, rough, too starchy for her liking, and perhaps even a little worn-out, a feeling that she was incredibly displeased with and that she would make sure the nurses changed as soon as possible. You needed to be comfortable, and this was most certainly not up to standards. She was going to pay good money to this hospital once you were released, she expected you to be dressed in linens and cottons soft enough that they could never leave a rash on a baby’s skin, clean enough that Avis herself could eat on them and not worry about a single speck of dirt tainting her coffee, every single thing used on you of such quality that it could be used on the Royal Family without a doubt. It was understandable that since everything had been so rushed they had had to use the first thing their hands had grabbed, but that didn’t mean your entire stay would be like this, not while she was alive and next to you. The doctor cleared his throat behind them, making Ellen’s head turn to look at him to see him pointing at his wristwatch, a sign that the few minutes he had granted them were coming to an end.

-Avis, we’ll need to leave soon.

-Just one more minute. Just one. Please.

Dr. Friedman was not a cruel or heartless man, and as much as he knew he should follow every protocol in the book, he understood that whatever had transpired that morning must have been a most traumatic event and therefore the women in front of him needed the reassurance that his words were real. One more minute wouldn’t be the end of the world. He nodded his head silently, retreating back to the shadows by the door and letting Ellen whisper the good news to her friend who visibly relaxed her shoulders as she took a step closer to you, her ruined skirt barely a few inches from the mattress. With skin pale as milk, she could almost trace the outlines of your blueish veins up your arms through the many bandages that protected them, down your neck towards your hidden chest and over your eyelids. Everywhere she looked there they were, like spiderwebs of a tone between indigo and periwinkle that spread underneath your skin in different lengths and sizes, and if she narrowed her eyes just enough, she could almost make out what little blood you had left on your system coursing through them, your weak heart pumping in a steady rhythm. She only had a few more seconds left with you, this brief moment in which no words were exchanged, not even a glance except for Avis’s eyes roaming over your body, coming to an end far too soon and far too quickly for her liking, her hand inching closer and closer to yours as quickly as the speed of light and slowly as if she was traveling back in time.

Like lighting striking down her body Avis’s fingers finally made contact with your skin, a quiet gasp nearly falling from her lips as heat seeped from your body to hers. One single tear rolled down her cheek, eyes closing as she let the sensation wash over her, relief blooming fully in her chest like a garden in Spring, white roses climbing up the walls of her heart, daisies growing in her veins as her feet walked on the fluffiest of clouds or the softest of grass. She highly doubted she would ever forget the feeling of your freezing skin under her fingertips, like sharp shards of ice that had cut her flesh so deep scars would forever be imprinted on her skin, marks that no one but herself would ever feel, but as your still smooth flesh seeped a gentle warm glow onto her body, raining life back into a heart that grieved your absence and your memories, she was sure she could find it in herself to push every horror as deep into the back of her mind as it was possible. For the first time since you had kissed her tenderly last night, she could feel you again, alive against all odds. Euphoria could be a better way to describe what she was feeling, an unbridled joy even if she could make out all the tiny cuts and stitches that held your skin together, her fingers leaving reddish translucent trails of your own blood behind that the bowl of ice and water had not been able to remove, as she caressed the back of your hand, eyes watching the way your eyelids twitched almost as if you could wake up any moment, but she knew better.

-I’m sorry, Mrs. Amberg, but I can’t let you stay any longer. I suggest you go home and rest, perhaps have a bite to eat and come back this evening. The anaesthetic will have worn off by then, and it will only be a matter of time until she wakes.

-She will wake up, won’t she? – she refused to meet his eyes, afraid that the truth might be reflected in his greyish irises even if his mouth delivered what he might think were harmless lies.

-Yes. It might be later today or in a couple of days, whenever her body has recovered enough from the trauma and the surgery to regain consciousness. – so soon? What if she wasn’t there when you woke up and you thought you were all alone? She couldn’t possibly leave you now. Noticing how Avis hadn’t moved, not even attempted to step back from you, the man approached both ladies, and in a slow gesture he placed a bony hand on her shoulder in a way that could only be described as comforting. His voice carried a tone of patience and understanding that she wasn’t used to, each word delivered with such certainty it made her feel like there could be no other truth than his. - Mrs. Amberg, trust me when I say that she will be alright. I will keep an eye on her personally until you return, but that has to be in a few hours, alright? You need to rest as much as her.

Trust didn’t come easy for Avis, so used to being used by people as if she didn’t have feelings, just a means to gain something, but this man made it irrefutable for her to not do so. He didn’t gain anything by lying to her, she thought, looking at his older face over her shoulder, observing the veil of age and wisdom displayed in his eyes, a partially hidden smile gently gracing his lips behind a peppery moustache. He wanted you to live and go home as much as she did. A sigh made its way out of her throat, her fingers lingering on your hand for one more instant before they released you, leaving an empty spot that even in your unconscious state you somehow felt, knowing deep inside your mind that she was there, almost smelling her perfect perfume through the antiseptic and the blood. Not wishing to part ways like this, making it all seem so cold and distant Avis approached your head, pushing stained locks from your forehead before bending over the bed, balancing herself on the tips of her toes as her lips touched the soft skin she had just exposed.

Her heart leaped in her chest the moment your warmth met her mouth, almost making her cry in relief as if she was coming to terms with how alive you were all over again, but she could not prolong her stay any more than she already had and let her brain get lost in those wonderful thoughts, so as she placed her bodyweight back on her heels she observed through a wet chuckle the imprint of her red carmine on your smooth flesh. No one said anything about wiping it as Avis stepped back, her fingertips brushing the fabric of your gown before her arms came to rest at her sides, not that they were thinking about doing it in the first place, simply followed her silently towards the doors, Avis fighting to not look back just like Orpheus had done with Eurydice, afraid that whatever agreement she had signed with her silent prayers would be broken the instant her eyes landed back on your bed and she had to watch frozen on her spot as you were taken from her. Standing once again in the hallway the doctor was quick to excuse himself as he had other patients to check on. Ellen took the lead and pulled Avis away from your room and back to where everyone was still waiting, nurses smiling sweetly at them even though their eyes were blown wide at the state of both ladies. It made Avis hug herself, conscious that she looked nothing like she usually did with her curls bouncing out of the hairdo, frizzy and sticking out in some places, not to mention her ruined clothes; she felt nothing like her usual self. Ellen pushed the doors, holding them until her friend had walked through, letting them screech as they closed. Dick was the first to reach them, meeting in the middle of the foyer.

-Is she okay? How did she look?

-She’s… fine. Still sedated but the doctor says that she might wake up soon. He told Avis that it was best for her to return this afternoon.

-That’s good. Great news. Do you want me to drive you home Avis? – he placed a hand on her shoulder, a tactic she was beginning to hate. She wished for everyone to simply stop touching her, to let her handle all this however she saw if and at her own pace, but she partially understood that they didn’t have any other way of making her feel and see that they were on her side. The specks of anger that had built in her chest popped like tiny bubbles just as quickly, the angry words she was about to deliver to poor Dick getting lost among her aching muscles.

-No. I think I’d rather have Ellen do it. Besides, you have other matters to attend to.

-The film can wait for one day, Avis. We’ll pick it up tomorrow, don’t worry, I will personally cover the loses.

-I’m not talking about the film. Something must be done about Lon’s body. – the elephant in the room had the spotlight at last. None of the men had had the courage to bring it up even though they knew perfectly well what had transpired in that house, after all, shots could only mean one thing. Henry had flatly refused to even bring it up, saying, as both ladies left to see you, that he already had done his job and wasn’t going to get his hands dirtier than they already were, a cowardly move, Dick thought. The other three boys were simply too terrified of how Avis would react if they did that, that they had mumbled words under their breaths that sounded like excuses to the man, leaving only him to face the hangman at the end of the day. He couldn’t have been more grateful to Avis for bringing it up herself. - We can’t leave him there or it might draw some unwanted attention to us. Could you handle that, Dick? I don’t think I can, not right now.

-Of course, don’t worry. I’m sure that Mr. Psychosis over there knows of someone who can help. We’ll figure something out.

-Thank you. Just a heads up: it’s not a pretty sight what I left behind.

-I suspected as much. I’ll warn the boys. You head on home.

-Phone me if there are any problems, okay?

-I most certainly won’t. Go on, I’ll take it from here. – the first hints of a genuine smile broke through her serious semblance, picking at the corners of her mouth even if it was for a moment. She took the chance to squeeze his hand affectionately as a thank you before both ladies began their journey down the hall and to the parking lot. - Drive safely Ellen!

What had she done to deserve such wonderful friends? He was going out of his way to do something for her that she was extremely aware was dangerous, a criminal act that he was willing to cover up to protect her, and to a certain extent, you. No one would have ever even thought of doing that except for Ellen, maybe even Jack if you pushed him enough, but Dick would jump into action if he knew Avis could not. The boys waved them goodbye as they passed them by, Ellen mouthing a silent thank you to Jack for the ice trick from before, holding onto the ginger’s arm as they pushed the door open. Slowly, inch by inch, everything was sinking into her mind, every moment she had lived, every word she had heard replaying like a scratched record, the world around her not as blurry or as muffled as it has been when she had entered the hospital but still not quite as real as what was in front of her face, as if everything three feet from her didn’t exist. Every memory mixed as if they weren’t sure where they were supposed to go, like a puzzle that she could not finish even though she had all the pieces because the table kept on being moved, spilling them onto the ground over and over, her body aching even more each time she had to bend to pick them up. The sight of your body under all that equipment overlapped the image of Lon on the hard ground, you alive and him spewing the last few breaths the bullet she had embedded in his chest would allow.

She had barely registered the journey to the car, not noticing the hot rays of sunlight that hit her skin as if she was walking under a desert, nor the sound of her heels or Ellen’s on the asphalt as they approached the black Cadillac. Her purse was gone, she realised, looking from side to side in a panicked state as if it could magically appear out of thin air, not knowing where it was or if she had lost it in the turmoil of activities that had led them to this place, eyes flickering before she saw the blond pulling the car keys from a pocket in her jacket, unlocking the vehicle. It was right there, on the passenger seat along with the revolver she had handed to her friend. It was dangerous to leave both items for everyone to see, but at the same time she highly doubted anyone would have tried to steal them, bloody handprints almost engraved on the back of her front leather seats, perhaps from different hands, or where they hers? She seemed to recall a moment in which she had turned to beg Dick to drive faster, but she could not fully remember if she had rested both of her hands over the leather, maybe her friends had accidentally left them when they had manoeuvred you onto the back seats. Her eyes glanced then to where you had laid what seemed to be seconds ago, dirt and blood everywhere she looked, not inch unstained, the cabin filled with a horrible metallic stench that only seemed to get worse as sunlight broke through the windows, heating the air inside.

Nausea hit her like a train going at full speed, forcing her to step away from the car as the vile taste of vomit returned, stinging and burning the back of her mouth as tears gathered on the corners of her eyes. Under other circumstances she would have considered walking back home, safely cooked up in her mansion in under twenty minutes, but people were already eyeing her a mix of worry and fear that she didn’t want to face out in the streets, rot to have the police stop her and start asking questions about a business they did not have to know about. She would have to endure the smell, she thought, turning back to the car to see Ellen fighting the foul stench herself, turning windows down so that the breeze would help dissipate it as much as possible. Through the open door that Ellen was working on, cranking the window lever, Avis saw the dark outline of your body marked on the seats, puddles of still wet blood dripping down onto the car mats one by one, perfectly formed tear-shaped beads travelling through the curves on the leather, imprinting the maroon shades onto the stitches. They were ruined, completely and utterly unsalvageable, she thought, not even an inch safe from some sort of splatter or smear of the crimson liquid, but it would be no issue to get someone to replace them, not leaving behind a single trace of the horrible experience. Hell, she could get herself an entire new car if she desired it, but her brain was exhausted and could not make decisions of that sort at this moment in time, the only thing clear enough for her to acknowledge being her wish for Ellen to take her home, away from everyone and everything.

A couple of minutes later the blond turned the engine on as Avis settled herself on the passenger seat and exited the hospital’s parking lot. The smell was still there, forever clinging to every surface, but the wind that had picked up around the car as Ellen pressed the accelerator, snatched most of it and pushed it out of the cabin with brute force. An eery feeling crept up her spine, eyes moving almost of their own accord to the back only for Avis to be forced to look through the windshield, a battle between her better judgment and that side of her that could not move on from what had happened. It almost felt as if invisible hands were hovering over her throat ready to strangle her with a mix of guilt and regret, pushing the happiness that you would survive to the side as if it meant nothing, demons that she had not faced in what seemed an entire lifetime taunting her. The woman behind the wheel was a completely different story. Shock prevented her from feeling anything but worry, as if nothing else existed in the entire universe, her perfectly normal life shattered into an amorphous shape that she had no idea how to understand and handle, feeling as if she could not fully comprehend just how deep you and Avis were connected, and therefore how bad this entire situation truly was. It left her bewildered to say the least, but she would never have to live with the thought that she had killed a man, unlike the woman next to her. Both ladies were lost in their own little crumbling worlds by the time the doors of the Amberg residence became visible.

No old man was there to greet them as they drove past the wide-open metallic gates, just as they had left them when they had come to pick up the weapons. When had that been? Avis wasn’t wearing a watch, and she could not recall what time Jack’s had shown while they were at the hospital. Over the leather, the revolver slid from side to side in between them as Ellen parked the car on the side, the gun hitting her thigh as everything came to a halt, eyes glued to it as if it had been the first time she saw it, the shotgun she had cradled not that long ago lost in the ginger’s mind, just as much as her jacket. They could be lying on top of twigs and grass in the forest, or maybe they were somewhere in that sterile place you were trapped in, her brain didn’t seem to even be trying to remember. They were, in fact, on the mats right behind her, soaking up blood by the minute, hidden under a dark mist of death that followed her everywhere she went, a reminder, a constant danger that made the hairs on the back of her head rise. Pullin on the hand break, Ellen turned off the engine, leaving them both simply sitting there, eyes staring into the distance unsure of what to say or if they should do something at all. Nothing could ever change what had happened; the burning crosses, the threats, the blackmailing and your kidnapping, all resulting in you being in a hospital and a man dead over the rubble of his parents’ house. Not a single word they said would erase a single second, turn back time to that moment late the night before in which Avis had been in this exact position, sitting on the passenger’s seat of your Packard instead of her very own Cadillac.

-Avis. - her hands were still trembling as her eyes broke their gaze from the revolver, lifting her head slowly to look at the blond. Sympathy swam in her blue eyes, concern crashing into her irises in waves of cold water that didn’t quite reached the ginger. Slender fingers intertwined with her own. – Everything will be fine. Y/N is strong, she’s already survived the worst of it. I’m sure she’ll wake up soon.

-I know, it’s just… so hard to believe that it will actually happen. Am I becoming paranoid Ellen? I have this feeling that at any moment I could get a call and she’ll be gone.

-You are not paranoid, you are worried. We all are. This… all this has been bigger than what we anticipated. Far more horrible that we could have ever thought, it’s normal for you to feel that way. She was almost taken from you.

-She was so cold, Ellen. It was as if I was touching pure ice, as if my skin was burning every time I put my hands on her. I was so sure she would be gone before…

-Hey, don’t think that. She’s fine, she will recover, and everything will go back to how it was.

-Will it? I don’t think there could ever be a normal again. We can’t go back to acting as if none of this ever happened, because it did, and I know it has scarred you as much as me, don’t deny it, Ellen. Please.

-I won’t. – would it even matter if they went back in time? Actions would still be engraved in blood and fire in their brains, haunting them in every waking moment, chasing them in nightmares that they could never escape from, shredding their skin with their sharp claws, making their ears bleed with their cruel laughs. What difference would it make if at the end of the day everything would still be fresh in their heads? Avis’s eyes noticed the layer of grief that ghosted over her friend’s eyes, and instead of waiting to be comforted she did the comforting instead, squeezing the woman’s bony hand hoping she would understand. The unshed tears were all the answer she needed. - We are all still in shock, let’s just try to get through the day to the best extent we can. Do you want me to stay with you?

-No, it’s okay. Do you need me to stay with you?

-I’ll be okay on my own, don’t worry.

-Then I’ll get the driver to take you to the studio so you can pick up your car. Promise me you’ll phone me if you need me, okay?

-I should be the one saying that, since you often forget to ask for help.

-Maybe things will change from now on.

Ellen raised her eyebrows in surprise, a small cheeky smile on her thin lips that matched the hints of lifted corners on Avis’s own mouth, a comfortable silence falling in between them as they exited the car. She felt the sun on her skin this time, the warmth that caressed her body gently through the white fluffy clouds that floated in the bright blue sky above. It was a continuous back and forth; one minute she could not feel anything but sorrow, and the next, joy filled her so completely that it almost made her think she would explode. It was as if she was caught up in between two worlds and she had no clue which way to go, which door to choose from the thousands that were presented to her. An absolutely insane hurricane that toyed with her emotions constantly. It made her doubt whether you could actually recover when you had looked so small, so vulnerable and pale, but at the same time she knew she had to believe that with people like Dr. Friedman around you nothing bad would happen to you, and that soon enough she would have you in her arms, cuddling in bed, kissing every inch of your body until dawn came. A soft breeze pushed rogue curls off her face, the floral aroma of her garden overwhelming her senses, making the metallic perfume she wore vanish as if it didn’t exist. She rummaged through her purse to get her keys, steps slow, exhausted as she made her way to the doors, Ellen following her to protect her sensitive skin from the sun under the covered porch, eyes blinking lazily.

-You be careful Ellen, okay? I wouldn’t survive if something happened to you as well.

-I’ll be extremely cautious and alert at all times, I promise.

-Even so, I’ll get security for you house tomorrow morning. Don’t fight it, just humour me, please.

-I wasn’t going to. I’ll feel much better if I have someone there to watch over me at night.

-If you got with Ernie, you would have extra protection. – the heavy oak doors creaked in its hinges as Avis pushed them open, keys dangling and rattling from their spot inside the keyhole, feeling the cool breeze that wayed through the entrance. The words had left her mouth even before she had been able to filter them, but by the surprised look on her friend’s face and the soft chuckle that escaped her lips they had been exactly what was needed, lifting part of the gloomy atmosphere off the air around them.

-Oh, Avis! I can’t believe you; you are still trying to push me into his arms? Honestly. – she accommodated herself on a chair next to the door, crossing her legs under her blue pencil skirt as if it was just another conversation over a glass of wine, but in that case her suit would not be ruined by stains that not even a dry cleaners would be able to remove. - For what is worth I have already had lunch with him a few times.

-But you weren’t the dessert he was hoping for, I’m sure.

-Oh, you! Things will happen if they are meant to, and that its all I’ll say on the matter.

The following silence was comfortable, happy even, just like it had been all those times they had chatted in the afternoons when neither of them wanted to go home to an empty house, when they had wished to gossip and laugh and simply feel young and foolish. The grey clouds still threatened to rain in the corners of their minds, but they didn’t feel as imminent as before, as if the harsh truths of reality could be put on hold for a while. It was a breath of fresh air for everyone if they were being honest. Before stepping inside her house Avis turned to Ellen, and as a goodbye she kissed her cheek in a quick peck, leaving a translucent mark of her red carmine on the blond’s skin, promising her that the driver would right there. Gertie was waiting by the kitchen’s hallway as her employer stepped into the house, letting the wood creak as the door closed behind her, but the woman didn’t say a word, unable to at the sight of her. She had been perfectly composed when she had left the house that morning, even when she had rushed to gather the guns not that long ago, the woman in front of her looked as if she had just come back from a battlefield. If Avis had noticed the look the maid was giving her, she didn’t bother to mention it, simply asked Gertie to tell the driver that Ellen was waiting outside and made her way to the staircase as the other woman scurried away, a million questions floating in her head. Alone at last she let the armour fall of her body completely, mentally echoing as they dropped onto the ground, the last traces of adrenaline sliding of her arms onto the carpeted floor under her feet.

Each step felt as if she was climbing up a steep mountain, lungs begging for rest as her legs burned from the exercise, but she could not stop, she needed to reach her bedroom as close the door, isolating her from the rest of the world. Her left hand followed the polished wood of the banister, dried scales of blood parting from her skin, stuck to the railing without her noticing, like sprinkles of a punishment you had not deserved. She had never counted each stair, but it seemed to her as if she would never reach the landing of the first floor, as if with each step she took she was walking backwards and not forward, like a never-ending walk down a hall where there were no doors. It was simply extraordinary in every sense of the words how much every bone and muscle in her body fought against her mind, aching and screaming at her to stop, to sit down and let the world pass by her, but in under a minute she stood over the carpet of the desired floor, barely three feet from her bedroom door. She could hear people moving about downstairs, voices floating as words she could not make out, nor that she wished to, her mind was already rushing as it was, she was not going to add more noise to the growing orchestra. Her heels made no sound as she walked towards her sanctuary, the white door keeping her away from everyone and everything, completely alone and secluded, curtains drawn so only the minimum and necessary sunlight could get in.

As soon as the door clicked shut everything went quiet. There were no cars on the road, no birds chirping joyfully on the other side of her window, no neighbours lounging by their pools with music or guests, just a deep silence that drilled itself into her head. Even before she had let go of her purse her shoes were already off, dropping her height by about five inches, soles pressed against the floor releasing hours’ worth of pain into the air, a sigh of relief falling from her lips. In a vase by the window a bouquet of white roses rested, filling up the space with a gentle floral aroma that could hardly make it past the stench that clung to her body, every single piece she was wearing material for a campfire as they were ruined beyond repair. Throwing the purse on top of the pristine covers she made her way to the bathroom, locking the door behind her, and with precise and practice movements she turned the faucets on top of her pearly white bathtub on. Water poured in angry rivulets, crashing against the porcelain and spreading like a transparent wave until the drain claimed it all, swallowing without mercy. She watched mesmerised for a minute or two, feeling the cold splatters land on her hands from where they rested over the curved rim, the sound loud but somehow soothing. It made her think of the waterfall you had shown her yesterday, with its crystal-clear waters sliding over smooth rocks as if they were nothing, not even an obstacle, free in its movement, choosing its own path without anyone to tell it that it could not. It had been perfect, simply beautiful; just like you.

Steam began to gather as the liquid warmed up, and after wetting two of her fingers to test the temperature Avis pushed the plug over the drain, letting the tub fill up. Normally she would pour oils, foams and other beauty products in that would leave her skin perfectly smooth and smelling like a sublime blend of flowers and sweet oils, but today she had no strength to do so, simply watched as the water spread over the porcelain before turning and heading towards the bathroom mirror. She looked horrendous, she thought. Her hairdo, for the most part, had not survived the day, waves of red and curls the shade of fire matted on top of her head, curls bouncing and cascading over her shoulder and on the back of her neck, a few messy strands framing her face. Even under the artificial light that came from the bulbs placed around the mirror she could make out perfectly every single speck of blood that had landed on her hair, some barely visible to her tired eyesight while others stood out in amorphous shapes that both contrasted and yet blended with her ginger shade. Her once immaculate make up was smeared, mascara gathered in black clumps under her eyes, innocent trails staining her cheeks from all the tears she had cried and yet could only remember vaguely, her rouge patchy over her pale skin, leaving areas with a fake pink tone as others remained as white as marble. Even her carmine was cracked on her lips, streaks cutting through the red shade like a knife that exposed the rosy mouth underneath. But as much as she hated looking all dishevelled like that it was the hundreds of tiny little burgundy splatters all over her face that drove her insane. She felt as if she had been marked by Death; everywhere she looked, every inch of skin her eyes landed on blood would meet her, drops of rubies that had cost more than she could afford to lose.

Her fingertips touched and traced a few of them, smearing the ones that had not yet dried, her own flesh feeling like it belonged to somebody else. As much as she tried to rub them off, they remained imprinted on her, refusing to part from her, and it drove her insane, forcing her fingers to practically scratch the skin off with her fingers until she felt a stinging sensation and realised, she was close to actually drawing her own blood with her nails. Both hands fell over the marble counter, gripping the edge as her body collapsed onto a stool, the vision she had of herself on the bathroom mirror now only reaching up to her bust, though she didn’t need to see the reflecting to know where your bloodied hands had landed on her body. Meeting her own eyes in the reflection she felt every single year she had lived, all the decades of hate, abandonment and humiliation mixing in an explosive cocktail that poisoned her body. Not a single day passed without her wondering why things had turned out the way they did. Why had her once perfect life crumble into a spiral of betrayals, sex and money that she had never asked for? Her plans had been burnt to ashes by an industry in which she now had all the power she desired and still she felt like that Jew that was rejected before she even opened her mouth all those years ago. When had she lost herself? Each question went unanswered, a tired sigh escaping from her parted lips as she lifted her hands and began to pull each pin from her hair, placing them gently on top of the counter, releasing the pressure of the hairdo as each curl fell in perfect waves over her shoulders creating a red mane of frizzy and angry strands.

Her pearl earrings followed. It was amazing how they remained unpolluted, not a single speck of dirt on them maintaining that pristine white look on them as her hands placed to rest on the side, as far away from the sink should they accidentally get hit and fall down a pipe. It was obvious that the next step was to undress but she felt as if she could not stand, as if her legs could give out at any moment and she would end up crumpled on the floor like used tissues, and so she remained seated for a minute or two longer than she should, looking at the falling water that was filling up the huge tub with each passing second, tiny little bubbles coating the surface before popping. She had asked for this bathtub to be made to very specific measurements, hoping that one day she and Ace would share it, soak in it as they talked about absolute nonsense but that moment had never arrived, the size of it making her feel so small each time she stepped inside it, as if she was floating in the middle of an ocean with no boats around to save her should she give up on swimming. She had clung to the idea of using it with him and just with him that she had refused to take any of the gas station boys into her bathroom, not even Ernie, but after she met you the idea of sharing a glass of wine and a conversation only with her husband began to shift, and the image of you instead, filled her mind. And yet she had not had the courage to bathe with you as she dreamed of every night. There could have been so many opportunities lost, so many feelings left unsaid, kisses never received, promises broken, if the doctors had not been able to save you, and that clawed at her heart.

She had been so close to losing you that she was having the worst of times comprehending how you had survived, how you were alive in the hospital when you had been so cold under her touch, her words barely reaching your ears as with each breath you lost a little more of that spark that kept you going. Death was a cruel player of this game, throwing the dice and taking its prize without caring who it was and who they would be abandoning in an empty house, but then again, how could someone without a heart feel any remorse at leaving sorrow and grief wherever it went? Its skeletal hands had had such a strong grip on you that Avis would have never been able to release you, not if she had tried with every fibre of her being, letting her very own soul rot in an attempt to rip you from its sharp claws, but thankfully she had not had to. Her thoughts were scattered in her mind as fog began to build on the edges of the mirror and knowing that the longer she postponed stepping into the water the bigger the chance was of the tub overflowing and her body completely collapsing on her, she pushed herself into a standing position. Her fingers worked slowly on the buttons of her blouse, feeling the sating sliding down her arms until it rested on her hips, caught under the waistline of her skirt until she pulled it out and let it fall on the ground around her feet. The blood had seeped through the thin material and had felt big red splodges on the skin of her arms, like stamps that marked were your body had touched hers.

Her hands traced the shape of her white corselette, ruined just as much as any other of the clothes she was wearing, the crimson liquid having dyed the delicate lace around the boning, the shape of your hand perfectly embedded on the garment, almost down to the creases on your palm, fingers around her waist that she had not seen before. You had been holding onto her, but you had not been afraid of dying, you had made your peace with that, but afraid of leaving her without being able to say one last I love you. Tears welled up in her eyes and this time she made no attempt to stop them; no one could see her here, alone just like she had wanted, staring at all the cracks she had so desperately tried to cover every year of her life. She felt like a porcelain doll that was one single hit away from shattering. With trembling hands and a slightly blurry vision she unzipped the skirt, joining the blouse on the floor. She had not noticed how heavy the garment had got since she had put it on this morning, the fabric having acted as a sponge that had soaked up every gallon of blood your body had released without permission, the black colour hiding the gruesome truth it carried in between each thread and stitch. There was no pressure on her hips pushing her down anymore, only her underwear and her ripped stockings. She placed one foot on the stool and proceeded to unclasp the garter, rolling the once nude silk down her thigh, but something small and sharp that dangled from a hole around her knee caught her attention, and with her thumb and her index finger she picked it up and brought close to her face.

The next instant her hand released the item in horror as her body stepped back, hitting a glass cabinet and making several bottles topple and fall on the shelves. Her body shook, as more tears rolled down her cheeks, smearing the mascara further, her hands shooting out to hold onto the cabinet to keep herself upright even though her back was sliding over the smooth glass towards the ground. It had been so small that she could have easily kept on undressing without seeing it, that pointy and porous piece of what looked like a deep red piece of plaster, but she knew better, she knew what it truly was. She had been carrying a piece of Lon’s body with her all this time, from that hellish house all the way to her very own home, a bone fragment that even in the distance that separated them over the bathroom floor still held beads of dried blood in between its pores. God, she had truly killed a man. There was part of a human being in her home, of a person that she had not hesitated to murder; she hadn’t even blinked when she had done it, in cold blood. In her head she had repeated on a loop until even her mental voice had turned hoarse that it had to bed done, that if she hadn’t pulled the trigger, he would have killed you and would have probably ended up doing the same to her, but she could not process it. It was a if her brain had suddenly turned into a fortress that wouldn’t allow that information to pass, and it brought a distressed cry out of her throat that she tried to cover up with her mouth.

It wasn’t a matter of what people might think of her; it was a matter of she thought of herself. It was something irreversible, something that she had extremely clear in her mind about you, how if you died there was no coming back, no replacement in a drawer unlike with scripts, but there had only been one Lon as well. Was she a monster now? A criminal? A murderer? Both her hands flew to her face, covering it as she cried and sobbed, everything falling on top of her at the same time like a building collapsing, and this time there was no adrenaline to mask it and no Jack to save her from facing it all, just her and the wind whirl of emotions that she could not control. Every breath was sharp, loud and with a certain wheezing sound to it, mixing with her sobs like a sonata being played in the wrong key but she could not stop. This wasn’t her, the woman she had created after all those decades of hatred and loss, she was a completely different Avis who had no idea how to face the world anymore, who didn’t know her own strengths and weaknesses. She was a stranger in her own skin. A bitter, metallic taste reached her tongue from between her parted lips, and in utter horror she removed her hands from her face to see that the once dry blood was dripping down her arms, thin crimson rivers that branched out over her pale skin as if you had been in her arms only a few seconds ago. This was your very own life coating her skin, not his, you were the innocent one who hadn’t deserved to be beaten to the edge, hanging onto to life by a single thread that he had been far too close to cutting.

Why couldn’t she understand her own actions?! She needed her brain to accept it all before she went insane. Even though the crimson liquid held no heat except for the one that seeped from her body to the atmosphere around her, it felt to her as if it was burning her flesh down to the bone, and in a rushed and clumsy manner she crawled towards the sink and stood up. The faucet ran cold water for a moment, but she did not care, she scrubbed desperately every single inch of flesh she could, watching how the crystal-clear liquid drained in a deep red shade, the stream never lightening, never stopping, her hands still as dark as before. Her eyes met themselves in the mirror, puffy, oak irises dim of every spark they had possessed merely hours ago, following the burgundy outline her own fingers had left over her cheeks, as if she had slapped herself with her blood covered hands. The sink could not do it, she thought; it wasn’t enough. She practically ripped the stockings of her body and unhooked the corselette with as much speed as her trembling hands would allow, hurried breaths matching the silents tears that were still falling. Naked over the tiled floors she caught a glimpse of her body reflecting on the cabinet behind her and the mirror on her side, picking up on every spot of her body that had remained pristine as if they hadn’t been there with her when everything had unfolded, untouched. If she was still Avis, if the eyes that looked back at her still belonged to her why did she feel so broken? Maybe she had been that way all along and had only been able to see it now, when there was no armour to protect her, no walls to keep her true self hidden away.

Your blood ran over her body like snakes, dripping from her fingertips just as it had done back in the hospital, drops that one by one crashed onto the ground, as if hours hadn’t already passed, and as she looked away from her reflection she didn’t hesitate to step into the hot water that swirled inside the tub, letting the warmth soothe her aching muscles as she sat over the porcelain, the faucet still running. It was as if she was covered in a strange emulsion that, as soon as her body submerged itself, seemed to peel of her skin like strings. They had a life of their own, curving in strange forms and creating tight ringlets and beads that did not melt into the water until several seconds after they had been floating around, turning the white around her into a light pink that slowly darkened as the seconds clicked. All those odd shapes diluted like they were nothing, like they hadn’t belonged to anyone, as if they hadn’t had a purpose, and Avis could only watch this morbid display as if she wasn’t the one involved, the producer and yet the product of this horror film she had not agreed to be part of. The parallels were there, the hypocrisy embedded in her mind, but no matter how hard she tried to not compare your situations to Lon’s her treacherous and vindictive mind was working against her, forcing her to see two different images one right next to the other as if she was standing in the room, bloodied water dripping onto the dirty ground as it slid of her body.

On the left was you, lying over exposed cement with black and blue bruises painted on your body, broken limbs showing sharp edges of bone, bleeding through your ears, the corners of your eyes, every scratch and injury separating you from her as your delicate frame turned nearly into a corpse before her eyes. Everything around you was dark, windows taped up, not even the candle she had seen in your cage lighting up the room, just cold and shadows. On the right was Lon, with a shattered leg that glistened gruesomely under fading rays of sunshine, gurgling and choking as his chest fought against the open wound that could never be repaired, heart shredded by a bullet, lungs collapsing in a pool of his own blood, a murderer that had met his match. The only difference she could see was that you had been almost killed by him while he had been killed by her, the ghost of the shotgun heavy in her hands as they floated under the hot water. What was the distinction between her and him that wouldn’t label Avis as a murderer like him? From a shelf next to the tub she picked up a dark blue sponge and dipped it in the bath before proceeding to rub the skin of her arms with it, the strength she was using far harsher than what she would usually do but there was something in the back of her mind telling her that she needed to remove every speck of blood that covered her body. She scrubbed, scratched and turned her skin from pink to red in an attempt to vanish it all, moving onto her chest and torso in a panic state as she saw that some of it seemed to be stuck on her, that no amount of pressure and hard work could remove it. She was brutal, leaving her flesh raw, a very thin line separating her skin from being intact to a bleeding mess, and yet she carried on, frantic in her need to free herself from everything, but to no avail.

Invisible hands pressed themselves onto her flesh, bruising her shoulders, the soft skin of her neck, her collarbones and sternum, leaving the imprint of wine-coloured palms on the sides of her breasts that matched the fading outline of yours that had seeped from her blouse down to her taunt abdomen, nails scratching without noticing. They were everywhere, like a thousand demons that wished to rip her skin off until only bones were left floating in the bath, and with sponge in hand she seemed to be aiding them. Soap soon followed, that special blend she had had made so she would always smell of cashmere and champagne, but the aroma was the least of her concerns, the white bubbles forming on the sponge soon tainted pink with each stroke over her thighs and shins, hissing painfully as her cuts got cleaned. They wouldn’t leave a mark of course, but as soon as the thought crossed her mind every movement halted. Would yours? She had traced the stitches and bandages, and she had seen with her very own eyes every wound on your precious skin, but she had never even thought of whether they would remain forever embedded on you, a constant reminder for both her and you. Would she hate them whenever she saw them? Would your eyes close every time you stepped into the shower and refuse to look at yourself in the mirror? From her spot kneeling inside the tub, she could see her translucent reflection on the glass cabinet, in between fallen bottles of oils and foams, seeing for the first time her true self meeting her back. Her face was free of makeup, pale and pristine, her neck smooth without a single speck left, the ends of her hair and the strands that framed her face wet, sticking to her skin.

This is what you saw, the real her she hadn’t met since she had been a child, a side of her she had been scared of for decades but that you had adored with every fibre of your being, kissing it, cherishing it. It was as if she was seeing herself through your eyes, admiring things that were not only physical but emotional, and she wasn’t hating it. If you had seen all her flaws and cracks and still loved her, why would she hate your scars? They would be silent stories of survival embroidered onto your flesh, like rose golden threads that told a tale only a few privileged people could read, and every moment you spent in her arms she would whisper in your ear that they could never hold you back, that they could only push you further into the life you deserved. Slowly the puzzle was rearranging itself on a steady table at last. Her hands let go of the sponge, watching in the reflection the way the moving water made it float around the surface, fingers wrapped around the rim as splatters of both reddish and crystal-clear liquid fell drop by drop around the tub. Her breaths were hurried, and her muscles ached like never before, but all panic and fight had vanished from her; she just felt so tired, so exhausted, leaving her to soak in filthy water for a minute or two as she looked at herself in the glass. There was a bruise on her right collarbone that she traced gently with her left had fingers, feeling the tenderness on her skin the butt of the shotgun had caused. This injury would fade along with the others, but yours would stay for all eternity. Unplugging the drain, she watched in silence the small swirl that formed as the water travelled down the pipe, exposing her naked form to the foggy bathroom air, the warmth of her body contrasting with the cold atmosphere even if in truth the room was filled with steam and heat.

White bubbled clung to the sides of the tub as the water level decreased, sliding down her body from underneath her breasts to her waist and beyond until the only thing left was foam stuck to her skin and to the porcelain bottom. She didn’t want to think anymore, she just wanted to push everything to the back of her mind and reach the end of the day. If she thought about everything one more time, she would be stuck in the same loops she had been all day and she just couldn’t handle it. She needed her mind to shut up and leave her be. She had turned the faucet off at some point, though she could not recall when, and to a certain extent it felt kind of dumb to turn it on again, the sponge underneath the stream of brand-new clean water, washing the left-over residue on the blue strands. Her movements were lazy, slow as with a sigh she pushed the plug back over the drain and let it fill up again, but this time she rested against the back and rim of it, feeling the warmth coated her body as the level rose, foam forming on the edges from the soap she had not gotten rid of, but it didn’t matter to her, it would soon fade as well. A bottle of bath salts caught her attention through her half-closed eyelids, the purple shade of lavender rocks making the corners of her mouth twitch in what could have been a smile. They had been a gift from you for Valentine’s Day, along with some lotions, flowers and chocolates, everything in a basket she had put away in her closet among her purses. They had hardly been expensive, and Avis knew she could have traded them for better things or even regifted them to Ellen or Miss Stinton, but they had come from you, and that bright smile you had just for her had prevented her from even entertaining the thought. These things were yours, she could never part with them, she could never sell them or give them away, no matter how much they cost or if they didn’t fit with her lavish lifestyle, they were simply yours. It was hardly an excuse, but it was the truth. She had kept every single gift you had ever given her, from flowers that laid pressed in between pages of books Ace would never read, to a metallic box of chocolates she used now to store pictures of you, bows you had forgot at her place, even a lock of you golden hair that you had cut in front of her so you would always be with her.

She had in her possession dozens of little things that had belonged to you, or still did, like the nightgown she kept under her pillow just in case you stayed with her at night, and every moment she didn’t spend with you she spent it with your things, knowing that come the morning your face would greet her again with a smile, and your lips would kiss hers as if it was the most normal things in the universe. With perfectionated practice Avis turned the faucet off with her foot once the water reached her neck, the rest of her body submerged under a thin layer of foam randomly spaced over the crystal surface. Steam swirled around her like white smoke, but it didn’t choke her, it simply floated about the room, lulling her slowly to a world in which you were there with her. She had plans for the two of you, trips, dinners, picnics, dances… She wanted to show you off like you deserved, to dress you in the most beautiful gowns and twirl you around the dance floor without a care in the world, breathing in your perfume, caressing your skin with her hands and her lips. She wanted to make love to you. She wanted Ace to be you, to call you her wife and take you with her to every luncheon and every meeting, hand in hand, have midnight conversations and laughing fits that left her breathless under the moonlight with you in her arms. She had almost lost all that the dreams that could be and the ones that society would never allow but now that she knew you would be alright, as hard as it still was to process it, there was no reason for her not to do them.

She was a grown woman who had defeated all the odds, who had fought with herself to get to where she was now. She was not going to step back and let life pass her by again, even if it meant living with the consequences of her actions. At the end of the day his death had brought on your survival. Avis took a big gulp of air and submerged herself completely under the foamy waters, red locks floating around her face as every sound in the universe dimmed, eyes closed, letting herself fall as if she was floating in a never-ending ocean. She could feel the currents brushing her naked body, legs and arms moving from side to side to keep herself upright in the bottomless waters, silence in her mind, deep in her throat and ears, no waves crashing above her head, just her body and her. It was so peaceful like this, where nothing could get to her, nothing could disturb her very needed break from reality, blue all around her form, her fiery curls swaying in a rhythm that caressed her cheeks and the back of her neck like tender kisses. She could feel the gentle flow of blood in her veins, her heart pumping steadily, her lungs holding onto the oxygen provided like a mother holds her child, close to her chest whispering promises of a wonderful future filled with love and happiness. She could give that to you, she could be beside you until her very last day returning all the love you had given her, all the passion and joy you had brough to her life. It felt like an eternity as she floated in that vast ocean, free, but her lungs soon began to constrict and the need for air overtook everything else, but her body did not disturb the gentleness of the moment and broke the surface with the utmost care, water sliding over her eyelids and nose, kissing her rosy lips as they dripped off of her from her eyelashes, oak irises opening to meet the same scenery.

She was in the same place but everything around her had changed. The atmosphere felt different, lighter perhaps, as if a pair of hands had been covering her eyes and had at last been removed, allowing her to see everything clearly again. Her life had shifted from that safe spot where she had resided for decades into a place where she was in charge, not having to ask anyone about what she was allowed to do or not, what things were appropriate or worth taking risks for. Meg was a risk she was glad she took; you were a risk she had been waiting to take for her entire existence, everything she stood for now was a risk, and she very much wanted to continue like this, no steps back. She had suffered terribly, but she was no true innocent, she had caused pain as well, and as she sat on the bathtub hugging her legs close to her chest, hair cascading down her back like molten lava, she realised that things had to change with Ace if she wanted to move forward form this point. They had been so locked up on throwing dirt and pushing each other to the ground that they had forgotten why they had got together in the first place, what was truly important. Claire had been caught in the crossfire, and no one had been there to take care of her. True that Avis had been putting on the effort to fix things with her, to create a bond, and understanding, but Ace had to as well; it wasn’t in the hopes that they would become the happy family she had dreamt of, but because the three of them deserved to at least become friends even if love could never truly happen. Ace had made it very clear that he was not interested in her like that, and she had you, the most perfect angel sent to the land of sinners to show her that love was real and not a legend or a prize for the lucky ones.

It had to happen like this because she was Avis Amberg and yet she was not, not until she was ready to become who she was meant to be. Time would tell when that moment would arrive, but for the time being she could simply bask in the joy of knowing that you were alive and would recover. The sponge floated up to her, colliding gently with her knees and breaking her concentration on her reflection on the glass cabinet. Every movement as she washed was mechanical, methodical and usual as she opened her shampoo and lathered her hair in the tender smell of orange blossoms, foam all over her scalp as she scratched the skin hoping to remove what little blood might be left, feeling it running down her back as she picked up the showerhead to remove it. There was no need for her to stand and wash her body yet again, but she did it anyway, although this time her hands were kind to her skin and refused to use more pressure than what was necessary to cover her flesh in cashmere bubbles. She had been cruel to herself far too many times today, she could afford to be kind for a change. Hot water fell over her face and body, rivers of diamonds sliding over her skin, taking with them every bit of soap they could find and releasing the image of smooth and almost perfect frame, travelling over her freckled shoulder, in between her breasts that rose and fell with each slow breath, beads of water falling off her pink nipples and crashing in quiet plops around her knees, each stream molded to her body down to every wrinkle and stretch mark.

Her hands pushed the wet hair off her face before squeezing the excess off, head lulled back as her eyes closed briefly, the sound of water returning to water filling up the bathroom as steam gathered around her, before bending to unplug the tub and let it drain for the last time. Her slightly wrinkled fingers grabbed her salmon-coloured bathrobe as her legs stepped out onto the tiled floor, cool under her hot skin, leaving small puddles with each step she took towards the sink, arms going through each sleeve, the soft fabric clinging to her curves as she loosely tied it around her waist. It left the valley between her breasts exposed along with part of her upper abdomen, but she did not mind, using her right hand to wipe the fog from the mirror before sitting back on the stool. It was a completely different sight to the one that had welcomed her the moment she had stepped into the bathroom, but it was a better one as well, no more blood in sight, no smeared makeup, just her, completely bare, meeting her reflection. Dark spots appeared on the back of her robe and around her legs from the water that was gliding down her body and dripping from the wavy ends of her ginger hair. From a hanger on the left side of the room she picked up a small white towel and gently tapped her face dry before scrunching and shaking her locks into a light dampness, proceeding with a short version of her skincare as she threw it onto the hamper to her right. Lotions, oils, serums, almost a dozen bottles rested around the sink, but she didn’t feel like doing every single step, too tired to even entertain the thought, so she simply grabbed the daytime lotion and tapped a few beads onto her skin, massaging it as the white cream got spread and absorbed.

It made her glow under the artificial lights. Coming to stand she towered over the ruined clothes, observing them in disgust, lip curling slightly before she headed towards the door and unlocked it, steaming colliding with the chilly breeze inside her bedroom in spirals that faded into nothing. She would burn those clothes that same night. She would throw them in a paper bag and watch as the flames consumed them until there was not a single thread of fabric left. After all it wasn’t as if she didn’t have clothes to wear and underwear to spare, she was not even going to try to save them. She was not going to face the memories of today over and over again every time she opened her closet or when the idea of wearing them crossed her mind, but most of all she was not going to subject you or anyone around her to the sight of them ever again. Her steps were sure but fatigued as she crossed the room towards her vanity, curtains perfectly still as they fought against the sunlight that was begging to be let in, palms swaying to the warm breeze outside as Avis sat herself on her ivory-coloured padded chair. There were small items scattered all over the white wood, from a box of hairpins to small bottles of perfume, but her hand did not reach for any of them, it picked up her silver brush, her initials engraved in the back surrounded by tulips, and began to run it over her damp hair, watching in the reflection the way her fiery locks gently draped over her shoulders, lazily beginning to curl. It was a soothing motion, like tender fingers that caressed and massaged her scalp with each stroke, and as her movements began to slow down, she felt the headache that had been threatening to form and possibly render her useless for the rest of the day was being pushed away, dissolving around her temples and behind her eyes.

Under normal circumstances she would start applying makeup as soon as she rolled up her hair; layers of foundation, rouge and mascara that shaped the stern and superior persona she had always been. But for some reason she did not wish to hide away behind all that right now. It wasn’t that she did not enjoy dolling herself up, she was the first to spend hours trying new sets and products and adored to see the beauty they accentuated on her red lips and deep outlined eyes, but it felt right now like an excuse to build those retched walls around herself again, a fortress that her tired hands could not erect. Satisfied with how her hair looked after a few minutes she left the brush on top of the wood, next to the box where her pearl earrings belonged, sighing deeply at the stiffness on her shoulders. The doctor had told her to wait until evening arrived to go back to the hospital, but she didn’t think she could find it in herself to simply sit around for hours, much less try to get some rest when she knew for a fact your unconscious face with all those horrendous tubes around you would appreciate behind her closed eyelids. It felt as if you were in the room with her, like an intangible presence that her eyes frantically looked for and never found, and yet her brain was telling her that it was real. Like a ghost that whispered words in her ear that she could not understand. She could feel you in every corner of the room, in every stitch of her clothes, under the covers of her bed, floating around the curtains that kept her world hidden from reality. You were in the very foundations of her home and in every drop of water that she had been submerged in, filling in the peaceful silence, but it was all an illusion.

A shiver ran down her spine, beads of water still clinging to her skin making her shake slightly, so in an effort to make time pass quicker she stood up and returned to the bathroom to moisturise. Her Elizabeth Arden body lotion rested right next to her Helena Rubenstein face cream, the pristine white and golden bottle clashing with the deep green jar, a harmonious battle that blended like the Heavens on her body. The door was left ajar this time as Avis untied the robe and let it fall over her blood-stained clothes, the soft fabric sliding over her flesh like melted butter until she stood naked over the tiles once more. Her hands were perfectly rehearsed as she picked up decent amounts of the cream and began to gently massage it over her arms and shoulders, following the pattern of collarbones, sternum and breasts. She was extra careful around her bruised skin, deep blues and purples beginning to form under a dark layer of what could only be considered black, the chipped nail varnish following the fading edges until she could not tell when the redness of the injury ended and the pale tones of her skin began. The thoughts began to unravel on the edges of her mind, memories sliding to the front like venomous snakes that wished to poison her and make her crumble back to the ground but she did not allow it, pushed them back to the darkness and depths of her brain with all her might and continued applying the lotion on her abdomen and as far as she could reach on her back. With one leg perched on the stool, toes pressed against the hard glass, her hands run up and down her shin and calf, fingers carefully observing the scratches as they rubbed the flesh, inching over her knee towards her thigh, smooth skin molding to the motions provided to help absorb the cream.

If you had been in the room with her your hands would have done it for her, the pads of your fingers massaging every inch of her, touching her tenderly until her body melted against yours, kisses following ever trail your palms had travelled originally to make sure she was perfectly tended to, completely and utterly loved. There would be time for that, she thought as she perched her other leg, enough time for her to show you just how much you meant to her and how much she loved you. She would take you to secluded spots so you could look up at the stars together, sharing kisses hidden by the veil of night, she would take walks with you down parks and boulevards, your arm interlaced with hers as the two of you laughed and talked not sparing anyone a glance as your eyes would be completely glued to each other. She had so many plans, so many things she wanted to do with you that she had been doubtful and worried would be frowned upon, but not anymore. She had been playing a game with rules given by someone else, it was about dammed time she made the calls instead. Her hands finished applying the lotion over her thigh, body glowing gently as her skin absorbed the cream. She stepped down from the stool after a moment to wipe her hands clean on a towel and grab her ocean blue satin robe from where it hung behind the bathroom door. It felt incredibly soft on her smooth body as she put it on, lace on the cuffs of her sleeves and the entire hemline of the garment that dressed her body in gentle blue tones. Her body was as much on display as before, her breasts practically spilling out of it as the slit showed of her legs with each step she took as she made her way back into the bedroom. Her hands itched to do something, but her brain was at a complete loss as to what. As she began to pace over the carpeted floor she saw her purse from the corner of her eye, an idea striking her as she bent over the mattress, her nipples barely covered by the blue satin, and picked up her silver cigarette case and golden lighter. With practice easy she placed one in between her rosy lips and made her way towards the window, pushing ethe curtains to the sides and opening the glass enough so that the soft warmth of the day could slide inside the room and snatch both the coolness that seeped form the walls as well as the tobacco infused fumes.

The first puff tasted marvellous to her, the rich and bitter aroma hitting her tongue and nose, working wonders on calming whatever nerves were still a bit frayed, smoke travelling down her throat and into her lungs in an intoxicating blend of nicotine and a hint of mint that she was unsure where it came from. It got released out of her mouth and nostrils in lazy grey swirls that slipped into the air outside ethe room, diluting amongst oxygen until there was nothing left. Only the leftover state in her mouth. The world had indeed kept spinning without any of them following. Palm trees moved from side to side at angles that only made the leaves dance under the bright golden sun beams, the sky as blue as ever, not a cloud in sight, not a bird slicing through it, simply unblemished above everyone’s heads. There was the muffled sound of cars driving around, of birds chirping and bees buzzing around the flowers of her garden, blooming in a variety of colours that hours ago would have seemed black and grey. Everything was still as beautiful as ever, but Avis knew better, Ellen knew better. No amount of petals falling over her emerald grass could make you wake up any faster or heal in the course of barely a night, and as she took another drag of her cigarette her eyes drifted to the clock on her nightstand, a unique piece made in gold and sapphires that matched the perfection of Swiss watches. It read four in the afternoon. Had it really been so long? She could have sworn that the last time she had glanced at the clock, back in her office, it had read eleven. How had so many hours passed when it felt to Avis as if it had barely been five minutes? The entire day seemed to have passed in a blur around her, everyone and everything rushing, leaving her memories of the events looking like a film that was being played at a much higher rate of frames per minute than usual. Right on cue her stomach growled, reminding her that she had been going around with just a cup of coffee and some scotch in her system, not a single bite of food ingested in all those hours, just nicotine, caffeine and alcohol; the golden trio, she thought with tired and bitter amusement.

-Ma’am? – she had not heard the gentle knock on the door it seemed, as Gertie’s voice floated up to her while the woman remained in the hallway, only her head poking through the crack she had opened. Ginger girls bounced as Avis turned her head, a puff of smoke escaping from her parted lips. – Is everything alright? – the poor woman must have been scared out of her wits, she thought, watching her enter the house in such a state, but as much as she wanted to explain everything to her, she did not want to subject her to such horrors. At least she could spare one innocent person from suffering.

-Yes. Everything’s fine now. I apologize if I seemed… erratic or if I frightened you when I came in.

-No need, ma’am. I simply wished to know if you were alright or if I need to call the doctor.

-I am perfectly fine, as you can see, but I do appreciate you checking on me. You are good woman, Gertie.

-I’m simply doing my job, but thank you, Mrs. Amberg. – a soft blush crept up her cheeks, something Avis was not used to seeing and she wondered if she had been as kind to her as she had been to Avis. She was well aware that there had been many times she had to clean up after a fight between her and Ace, glasses and vases shattered on the floor, pictures knocked to the ground in fury, but had she ever told her just how thankful she was for not leaving? The woman had become a pilar of stability in Avis’s life, and she hardly thought she could do without her at this point in her existence. Perhaps she could send her on a long and very well-deserved holiday to some exotic place as a way of repaying her. - Is there anything I can do for you?

-Actually, there is. Could you phone Oscar Russel, down at the Packard dealership, and ask him if he knows of anyone who can change the seats in my Cadillac for brand-new ones? Someone who won’t ask questions.

-Of course, ma’am. Same colour and material?

-Yes, Gertie. And could you fix me something to eat? You don’t have to go overboard with the meal, just something quick and simple that won’t dirty the kitchen too much. I don’t want you to have to tidy it up again.

-Do not worry about that Mrs. Amberg. Do slices of turkey with some gravy and grilled asparagus sound appetizing, ma’am?

-Very much.

-Then I will have them ready for you in a moment and will call Mr. Russell later this afternoon. Anything else ma’am? A drink perhaps?

-No, thank you, Gertie. That will be all.

The door clicked close, leaving Avis alone once again, the cigarette dropping ashes onto the ground even if part of them were carried outside by sudden gusts of wind. Some day she would explain everything to Gertie and put the woman out of her misery, but it would not be today. She watched the sun for a brief moment, already moving west as dusk approached, the once bright white light that bathed the world turning slowly into soft golden rays with hints of orange, but not quite yet. There were still a few hours left of sunlight, the world not ready to meet the night and all the shadows that came along with it. Another drag left the cigarette between her fingers practically burnt to the very edge of the butt, and with no desire to light another she exhaled the smoke through her mouth before tapping it out on the stray that was on her nightstand. The slight tinges of tobacco clung to her robe as she made her way to her drawers to pick out a set of underwear, satins, silks and lace meeting her as she pulled the one on the top right open. There were purple brassieres, white corselettes, black bodices… in truth, anything and everything money could by at a store, but she made no attempt to find something sexy the way she had been doing since she met you, she searched for comfort and practicality, and in the end, she found her trusty dark corselette. It was a bit worn out around the straps, and some of the lace could do with a few extra stitches, but she had had it for years and it suited her body, and her currents needs better than anything else.

It came as a set, of course, so it had a matching pair of panties that she grabbed as she returned to the bathroom, though this time she didn’t even bother to close the door. She wasn’t as careless with her blue robe as she had been with her salmon one, still resting on the floor, and hung it behind the door just as it had been before, making quick work of putting on her undergarments, adjusting the hooks and her breasts so everything would sit exactly as it was supposed to, the top of her bosom spilling from under cups of simple but exquisite embroidery. Barefooted she walked to her closet and threw the doors wide open, suits, dresses and mink coats meeting her eyes but alas there was desire for such extravagance today. No rich colours and expensive fabrics would dress her body, and she was adamant about following that rule. Her fingers brushed over silk blouses and tweed skirts, some of the garments not having been worn in years, but for some reason she hadn’t parted with them, and they now laid inside her wardrobe gathering dust and as possible victims to moths should they ever get inside her closet. Chanel and Dior were most definitely out of the question, not to mention Versace, all dresses that she could wear to a dinner or a party, but not to spend a night in hospital with you, but then her eyes picked up on a bag hidden in the back. She had forgotten about it. Grabbing the hanger, she took the bag out of the wardrobe and laid it flat on top of the covers before carefully unzipping it. Inside was a simple dark forest green gown with short mutton sleeves that didn’t carry too much of a puff around the shoulder, a skirt that reached her knees, maybe an inch underneath them, and a decorative cinched waist with elastics hidden in the back. It was practical, a garment she had never worn because she hadn’t been sure what sort of event would require for a gown as simple and classic as this, a dress that spoke of privacy and propriety to a level that had never felt right to Avis but that right now she considered the correct call.

It was of no concern to her if it was made out of the softest velvet, it would probably keep her warm once the temperature outside the hospital dropped and a cool breeze began to seep into your room, so without giving her brain a chance to back down she searched for the zipper, which had conveniently been placed on the side instead of the back, and stepped right into it. It was outstanding how designers could take one single look at her and get her measurements perfect down to the last decimal. It clung to her in all the right spots, showing of her waist while at the same time leaving certain parts of her body to the imagination, only the slightest hint of a cleavage peeking from behind the soft neckline. You would have loved it, she thought as her hands travelled over the fabric, imagining for a second that they were yours, arms wrapping around her waist as your head rested on her shoulder telling her how beautiful she looked. It made her lips break out in a genuine smile that only her eyes saw reflected on the mirror as she hugged herself as if her palms could feel the skin of your arms around her body. Standing barefooted over the carpet she looked over to the other side of her bed, the one Ace would usually occupy but that had been empty for a while now, counting the days you had spent on it and gathering in her mind the numbers, wondering if your shampoo or your perfume could still be lingering on what used to be her husband’s pillow. Like a magnet she headed towards it, needing to know and at the same time afraid that only his aftershave would hit her nostrils, shaky hands picking it up and placing it close to her chest. A tear threated to fall as she caught a gentle but lingering whiff of your berry perfume under Ace’s sandalwood aroma, and for once it did not feel as if it didn’t belong there with yours.

Perhaps many more things had changed inside of her than she had anticipated. Walking to her side of the bed she sat carefully on top of the covers still cradling the pillow in her arms, wishing to keep as much of you with her as she could until you healed enough to come home. Had she just thought of her house as yours as well, as the only place she ever wanted you to live in? It felt selfish but how could she not wish to keep you with her when she had been so close to losing you? Minutes passed without warning as she remained seated, unmoving, lost in thoughts that she would forget as soon as she woke up from her dissociative episode but that for the time being she could immerse herself in. You had mentioned once how you would have loved to live in a house with a big garden, flowers everywhere for your tender hands to care for as spring came, picking up oranges and peaches in the heat of August that you would place carefully in the skirt of your dress or in a basket, the unforgiving heat gliding over your skin as if you were unaffected by it, smiling up to her form her spot by the pool, or maybe she would get her hands dirty and pick them with you. There was an entire world of possibilities before her that she had never seen before, and each idea and plan was better than the one that had come before it, but all of them shared one common factor. Your happiness. Gertie’s voice floated up to the room and although it did not pass the closed bedroom door Avis understood that her meal was waiting for her, snapping her out of her moment and forcing her to let go of the pillow and finish up getting dressed. Her black heels were sprawled out on the floor, abandoned, probably as stained and ruined as everything else, and as with everything else, she was not even going to try to fix them. Opening another set of doors, dozens of pairs of shoes greeted her in every colour possible, in lines and cuts that not many people had the privilege of even seeing in magazines, but she already knew which ones she was going to wear.

Her hands reached for a beautiful pair of green heels, pumps, if her mind did not betray her, that matched her gown. But there was still something missing, a touch to make it all come together, a detail that would wrap it up and make look like one of the outfits Avis would usually wear but without all the unnecessary splendour. Rummaging through her jewellery box nothing seemed to stand out to her, her stomach rumbling reminding her that her food was getting cold downstairs, and she had to hurry, but there just wasn’t a thing in it that wasn’t either too expensive or simply too much. The thought of forgetting all about it crossed her mind for a moment, but she discarded it the same instant it came up in her mind and headed to her nightstand where she knew for a fact, she had a few pieces she knew she had to put away but never remembered. Underneath handkerchiefs and several pairs of gloves she found a golden locket. It wasn’t anything Ace had gifted her, much less something producers or actors had placed on the table for a good part or a good price for a movie, this was a token you had given her just because. There had been no fancy dinners or flowers awaiting her, just you with the locket after a hard day at the studio. This was it, the cherry on top of the ice cream that she had been looking for, the dried petals of a daisy inside it, the first flowers Avis had given to you back in January, almost right after New Year’s. You had meticulously pressed them and aired them so they would never rot, eternal inside their golden case that Avis was now fastening around her neck, the jewel sitting perfectly over her collarbones and stopping right at the top of her cleavage.

The sight that welcomed her in the mirror was far from what she was used to, but she could not say that she did not like this homely, comfortable look, not when all that mattered was getting herself back to the hospital as soon as possible. There was no chance in Hell she was going to leave you to wake up alone. With one last brush of her hands over the green velvet she picked up her purse and the cigarette case and headed out of the bedroom, but just as she was about to step through the threshold she stopped. Was this what she truly wanted? Could she handle all the things she had changed? In an hour Avis had turned her entire world upside down, had transformed herself into something she had never been before, but she hadn’t sat down to consider if it was what she needed. Maybe she was not as ready as she thought to push away the Avis Amberg she had grown accustomed to. That woman wasn’t bad, she was simply cold, distant. She had been hurt far too many times. She had known where her place was and what role she played, and she had been bloody brilliant every time it had been her turn, but there had been things she had hated about herself that she never wanted to live again. So, maybe instead of becoming someone completely different she could consider other options, like… adapting? Evolving to fit with the woman she was now without giving up all the good things that she had been back then. The best of both worlds with flaws and faults that you would see and help her modify to become the woman everyone deserved, including herself. Something had been missing, and she knew exactly what it was. Walking inside the room again she approached her vanity and from the first drawer on the left she picked up her signature Victory red lipstick and with meticulous fingers applied it, looking up to see those same chocolate eyes she was used to but with a sparkle of something new shining behind her irises. Now she was ready.

Her steps were confident, strong, as she walked out into the landing and down the stairs, meeting Gertie by the dining room as the woman told her that her lunch was waiting for her inside. It did not go unnoticed the gentle smile that graced the maid’s lips as she walked back to the kitchen, and it sure made Avis feel good. But she forced the sensation to subside, as if she had no right to feel that much joy when you were not there with her to share it. The meal was excellent, of course, and to her starving system it tasted as if angels had cooked it, each bite a wonderful mix of herbs and saltiness that covered the bitter taste the cigarette had left behind. Just as her hand lifted the glass in front of her to take a sip of water the doors opened, signalling that the driver had returned and Ellen was probably on her way home by now, so without missing a beat Avis called for him. His semblance had not changed from this morning, serious, competent in everything that he did, but as she turned to him with her head held high, she saw something in his eyes that told her he had put the pieces together, and was pretty sure he knew what had happened, or almost everything. It hit her like a bucket of cold water, and it made her realise just how easy it was for someone to find out about what had happened and begin to talk, half a dozen people’s lives destroyed with one quick blow. She knew he would not talk, he had been with the Ambergs almost as much as Gertie and he had never shared a single thing about what went on with her family in or out of their home, so she knew she could trust him, but that didn’t mean that strangers could not get wind of something, just one small detail and cause for everything to be exposed. Suddenly all the confidence that had filled her up popped like a balloon and the gravity of the situation weighted her down once again, making the almost fading aches return. With a quiet voice she asked him to get the car ready again as she required to be driven to the hospital and she could not use her own vehicle, to which he nodded in understanding and left. No questions were asked, no looks of disappointment or disgust were thrown her way, but she felt so small all of a sudden, as if she had been in a self-centred bubble and it had been popped by all the thorns she was walking on top of now.

Why did every happy moment have to be destroyed? Her feelings were not directed against you, they weren’t even against herself, but they were there, and they were pulling her back to square one, all the way to the very beginning as if she had made no progress at all, and she was just too dammed tired to walk that same road all over again. The food that was left on the plate didn’t look appetizing anymore, and she was not about to sit there and rot until a reasonable time for her to leave arrived. She would rip her hair off in anxiety, her head would explode. With a quick gulp she downed the rest of the water and left the glass on the table before standing up and making her way towards the entrance to grab her coat and tell Gertie that she wasn’t sure if she’d be home tonight and to not touch the clothes that were in her room, that she would handle that herself when she returned. The woman nodded even if Avis was already walking out the door, watching with worry how the confident aura had vanished in barely a few minutes. The sun was shining as bright as ever, but to Avis the blue sky was covered in thick grey clouds that threatened her with a storm, matching the uncertainty she felt regarding what she would do when she set foot in the hospital and people began to pry into affairs that did not concern them. She did not have Dick nor Henry to help her out. The driver opened the back seat door for her and let her accommodate herself before sitting behind the wheel and turning the engine on, Avis feeling the vibrations of the motor under her feet. With her eyes glued to the window and her elbow resting on the door as her hand propped up her head, every thought and question she had successfully pushed away returned, and not having the answers to any of them unnerved her more than words could express.

She trusted Dick, of course she did, but people could be cruel, and she was well aware that Henry would sell his own mother if it benefited him in some way, but would he really spread rumours or even tell the press about everything if he could earn some sort of profit? She wanted to say that she trusted him blindingly and she was sure he would never even consider it, but the truth was that she couldn’t. He had been willing to let you die all for a film, for an object that could be done again in a few months, and she was not going to forget about that fact easily or soon. She could cover up her traces as best she could, and protect Ellen, Dick and the boys so their lives would not be ruined, but she would keep an eye on Henry for as long as she saw fit, until she could say with all the conviction in the world that he would not betray them. At the end of the day everything came down to money and power and Avis currently possessed both to such levels that she knew she could run the world if she wanted to, but that it also came with far too many enemies to count. The ride to the hospital was done in complete silence, not even her breaths could be heard, but her thoughts were screaming inside the cabin. The car came to a full stop inside the hospital’s parking lot, under the blazing sun and the dark clouds.

-Mrs. Amberg.

-Please, don’t… don’t say it. I know you want to ask but…

-I ain’t going to ask and I ain’t going tell, ma’am.

-Really? – she met his eyes through the rearview mirror, honesty and loyalty shining on them as if they were the banners he carried with him every day of his life.

-Yes. You have been through enough; I won’t add more miseries to your plate. I’ve seen what they can do and I’m not the sort of person that hurts others just because they can, and I can prove it. I took Ms. Kincaid to the studio and drove behind her to make sure she got home alright, so I will wait here for you until you are ready for me to drive you back to your house.

-You… you didn’t have to do that, but I’m thankful you looked out for her. Though I couldn’t ask you to stay and wait for me. It might be hours before I’m ready to leave.

-You ain’t asking ma’am, I’m offering. You go and see your young miss and I’ll be waiting here to take you home.

She was surrounded by wonderful people and had never seen it until now. A nod would have to suffice as she wasn’t sure her voice wouldn’t crack as she thanked him, a lump forming in her throat, and quickly stepped out with her purse in one hand and her coat in the other. It was as if she hadn’t set foot inside the building in weeks and yet she hadn’t left at all, pushing the doors open until the coolness of the white walls and antiseptic breezes embraced her once again. That was probably one of the smells she would never forget, your blood on her body being the first. Each hallway looked exactly the same, but she knew perfectly well where she was going, finding that the floors had been cleaned after they had left but witnessing the palms of her hands still marking the wall as if she had been clawing at the tiles to escape and perhaps, she had been. Everything she had felt in this room had been raw and out of control, like a dam that had let centuries worth of water flow down the valley, ripping and killing everything the furious stream found in its path, only Death left behind, and she had not wished to face it. But in the end, there had been no other choice but to do so, or at least the part that her mind and body could handle at the moment. She ripped her eyes from the macabre painting and carried on walking, nodding her head politely at the nurses and doctors that greeted her but never stopping to talk with them, your room barely a few feet away from her.

Her hand hovered over the doorknob unsure if she should go in or wait a bit longer, but with each second that she let pass she felt her need to see you grow exponentially and with quiet movements she stepped inside. Everything was still the same, your body on the bed, the ventilator breathing for you, even the horrible blankets that covered your battered frame, but when she got closer, she saw that your cheeks had regained some colour, and your skin didn’t look as pale as before. For some reason she wasn’t going to try to understand, it made her heart leap in her chest. You were even still carrying the mark her lipstick had left on your forehead, making her smile as she picked up the black armchair that rested in the corner and placed it beside your bed. She didn’t know and it was a secret you might carry to your grave, but the instant she had stepped into the room your frazzled and still partially unconscious mind had felt her, from that unmistakable aura that she carried with her and she was completely unaware of to the aromas that floated from her skin to your nostrils, perfumes that comforted and calmed your nerves. Even if your body did not respond to what your mind was trying to say to it you could feel her, hear her, and smell her, wishing and praying that somehow she would touch you and make it all real so that you would believe that this was not just a cruel hallucination you was living. She did not disappoint, and with a tender and caring touch she took your hand in hers and interlaced her fingers with yours as she whispered sweet nothings against your skin, her lips ghosting over it.

If she knew just how much this meant to you, if you could tell her, words would never stop falling from your lips, enfolding her for all eternity, because she had the chance to leave you, to let you die, and she had gone through the Heavens and every single circle of Hell to find you. She had come in like your knight in shining armour and had defeated the dragon that had almost claimed your life and there could never be a gesture as loving and as a powerful as searching for her love all the way to the middle of nowhere knowing that her life would be at risk, but she had not cared. Nothing could ever compare to this, to the scattered memories of her angelic face telling you through tears and pained words that everything would be alright, that you would be fine. Avis’s eyes were glued to your hand, feeling the heat that seeped from your body to hers along with the touch of your palm with all its lines and wrinkles matching hers. Unaware of the effect she had on you, she let her mind drift, her eyelids becoming heavy in exhaustion but with the safety of knowing that you were really there with her, and no one would ever take you away. She had dreamt so many times of taking you back to your home, to that land of crashing waves and orange blossoms that you so loved and carried with you deep in your heart, desiring to see those endless fields of yellow that blended into green in Spring, and to explore every corner of the place that had raised you into the woman you were now. She could almost see it now, the gentle rivers with reeds swaying to the lazy currents as butterflies flew, decorating the skies like swinging petals that played lazy games of catch and chase with the flowers that surrounded them. And there so many. Roses, poppies, lavenders and morning glories, all scattered through deep green and olive trees that provided shade for the small gentle bird, and in between all that beauty and magic, you, standing on the riverbend with your hands stretched out for her to hold onto.

And she would take them. Everywhere you went, she would follow, every mountain you climbed she would do so as well, and she would do it all because she loved you. God, she loved you more than she loved herself, more than actions could ever show and more than words could ever tell. Every night you would appear in her dreams, sweet and caring and always with a smile on your face, saving her from problems that would soon fade into the ether as your hands held onto hers and your lips brushed over hers, washing all her worries away. No storm could ever roar in the sky when she was with you because you were a rain of cherry blossom petals in Springtime, the sound of waves and the cooling waters of a soothing sea in Summer, every brown leaf that fell to the ground in Autumn and each unique snowflake in Winter. The essence of the universe and the first element to ever exist, and she would never believe just how she had been the lucky gal to make you fall in love with her as she fell for you. She could almost feel the way your fingers squeezed her own as you pulled her closer. No, wait, that hadn’t been a product of her imagination, she was sure of it.

Her eyes shot open, woken up from her slumber with a start that had her heart hammering against her ribs, her gaze watching your intertwined hands. Your tips moved as the pressure suddenly increased. Yes! Your fingers were indeed squeezing hers! The chair scraped the floor slightly as Avis stood on slightly shaky legs, joy and panic flowing through her veins, but even in that frazzled state of mind she never let go of your hand. You were fighting against the odds, walking through the darkness to get to her because she was there, real and you needed to see for yourself if she was fine. Just as her head turned to look at your face, searching for any other sign that you were coming back to her, your eyelids fluttered for an instant. You were right there, on the edge of the abyss waiting for something that you weren’t sure what it was to take that leap of faith and jump, to gather her in your arms and whisper to the tear-stained face you had last seen that she had been right, and you were alright. Avis was quiet for a moment until your eyelids fluttered again, and without even realising it that raspy, velvety voice of hers dropped the push you needed to jump as she pleaded you to wake up. Her angelic face had been the last thing your eyes had seen; it would be the first as well. Like a miracle your eyes opened.

#avis amberg #avis amberg x reader #patti lupone #patti lupone x reader #lilia calderu #lilia x reader #hollywood 2020 #we thank miss lupone simply for existing

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