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[a-complex-joke]

How to get the best ending in OXENFREE

Hang behind with Jonas when you first get to town to hear what he has to say. It’ll give him a good first impression of you.

DO NOT rat out Ren in the game of Truth or Slap. It is possible to get him and Nona to date if you do (I did it once, no idea how), but it’s much more likely that they’ll date if you don’t. You can also help them along by talking Ren up to Nona.

Don’t leave Ren in the forest to get Clarissa from the fort first. Make sure he’s safe and sound in the Dick Tower before you go after her. He’s seriously freaked out at this point in the game, and his best friend abandoning him does not help that.

Be sure to remind yourself via the talking reflection to: Don’t influence Michael about Clarissa. He’s much happier and she’s much nicer when they’re together. Tell Michael to go to school here. If Michael doesn’t plan on leaving town, he and Alex won’t go on one last swimming trip and he won’t drown. Don’t let Jonas talk to his mom. If you do, he just up and disappears.

Don’t hand Clarissa over to the ghosts. This one should be a no-brainer.

Spend time with Jonas. The best ending involves the two of you being best buddies, so don’t give him grief about spending so much time with him.

Do not being Ren with you to town. This strains your relationship with Jonas. Also, if you leave him and Nona alone in the tower, it makes them more likely to date.

Get all the Adler notes. Not only does this help you understand more about the ghosts and provide you with a fun distraction, it’s the thing that really gets through to them. (Not to mention that its most likely required for the best ending, gameplay-wise)

Just be nice in your dialogue choices. Everyone will like you much better if you do.

When you get to the best ending, you might be a little confused and frustrated. After all, it seems like all the hard work you did, getting Ren and Nona to date, bringing Michael back to life, making friends with Clarissa, has been erased.

But you need to remember: each version of Alex lives on. When the time loop at the end of every bad ending happens, it leaves a version of Alex behind. That Alex continues with her life in the way the events on the island have affected it.

That means that with the best ending, there are two of the best possible versions of Alex out there: one whose brother is still alive and has a new best buddy in Jonas, and another who never even sets foot into the cave in the first place.

Also, that version of Alex that never goes to the island? She’s the last Alex. You fixed the time loop. Alex can live happily ever after now. Thanks to you.

[a-complex-joke]

You all ACTUALLY like my garbage

The Farmer, The writer, and the Parrot

Farmer x Elliott (x Leo!platonic)

Stardew MASTERLIST

Farmer is nervous to ask Elliott if he would be up to adopting Leo, or any kids in the future. Farmer is also worried about how Leo might react to the offer.

The farmer had been frantic all morning, they had done all their chores for the day.

Yet they had been avoiding even looking at their partner, Elliott the whole time.

For the past week since Leo had moved to town, The Farmer seemed deep in thought and even a bit skittish. 

Elliott had indeed taken notice of their behavior, noting the fact that they hadn’t even come home that night, opting to stick by the mines.

Was he worried? Sure. but the farmer often lost track of time and would return later than reasonable, while still waking before himself.

Elliot found it admirable, but Ignoring him was a step too far.

“So where are you going?” Elliott said standing between them and the door.

“I was going to the mines, Clint requested way more Iron than I already had” they smiled not meeting the redhead’s eyes.

“Farmer tell me the truth, have I done something to cause you to grow so distant… is there someone else?”

It broke his heart to admit the insecurities he had been feeling, and on the flip side, it saddened The farmer that they had made him feel so.

“No! There is no one else who could ever compare to you” They put a hand to his cheek.

“Then why have you been ignoring me”

The farmer looked to their feet, mumbling something.

“Darling, you know I can’t hear you when you do that” He lifted their chin.

The farmer took a deep breath before letting it out.

“I know he never really discussed the whole if we wanted kids or not and I know it all of a sudden, but seeing Leo living all alone with no one to take care of him, it just feels like a pin is stabbing my heart. So I've been bringing him meals every day, and last night he was already asleep when I got there but I could tell he was having a nightmare so I just stayed there to comfort him. And what I'm trying to say is I want to adopt Leo, but I was scared of how you’d react” 

There was a loud silence in the room as The farmer caught their breath.

“Oh thank Yoba, I thought you were going crazy and acutely doing an order for Clint there for a second, Harvey was on speed dial,” Elliott said releasing a breath himself.

“That’s what you're focusing on, I just spilled that I want us to raise a child together.”

“Hun, I'd love to raise a little army of children if you wanted, honestly the fact that you want to bring Leo into our lives just makes me love you more,” He said embracing his partner.

“But what if that is not what he wants, Linus is perfectly content with being somewhat homeless, and they are close as can be. What if he takes it as an insult” The farmer vented, tears threatening to fall.

“The worst that could happen is that he chooses not to come live with us. Even if we don’t adopt him, he’ll still be in our lives as will we in his. And we’ll care for him no matter what” Elliott said kissing their forehead.

“How did I get so lucky to marry such a caring man”

“It came with the job I guess” He joked.

The two decided to wait till they could commission Robin to build another room, even If Leo rejected the offer they weren’t gonna give up on the prospect of being parents.

To say Robin was ecstatic at the news would have been the biggest understatement since the town ‘learned’ of Mayor Lewis and Manires Affair.

A month had passed before the pair decided they were finally ready to ask Leo. A room decorated with a large window looking out towards the farm, what more could he want?

“Hi Leo, how are you today” Farmer asked sitting down next to him.

“Oh hi, Farmer, I'm good, are you and Mr. Elliott all right, miss Robin said you guys were doing something life-changing, that's why your house was under construction right?”

Oh, Robin and her loud mouth.

“Well, yes we are planning on doing something very different, and it actually why where here. We needed to ask you something really important” Elliot said now getting down to his level.

“Now before we do we want you to know that you can say no, and we won’t hold it against you” 

The child nodded.

“We wanted to know if you’d like to come live with us, we want to adopt you. You’d be our child and we’d be your new parents” The farmer was starting to struggle a bit.

“You’d still have the tree house of course but, maybe this could be more of a clubhouse for Jas, Vincnt, and you.”

Leo stayed silent before speaking in a hushed voice

“What if I lose you like I lost my real parents” tears poked out of his eyes.

“Oh hun come here” The farmer pulled Leo onto their lap, ushering Elliott to come closer.

“We don’t plan on going anywhere, and even if we did that won’t be for a long while”

“Will I still be able to visit with the parrots?” Leo questioned.

“As long as they don’t eat all the crop” Elliott tried lightening the mood.

The three sat cuddled in the tree house till Leo had become tired, falling asleep in the arms of the farmer.

“You know I can carry him” Elliott offered as they walked back home.

“no I've got him, he’s really light, we’ve got to fatten him up,” the farmer said a little concerned.

“I'm sure Gus would love to have a taste tester with an exotic pallet”

“Don’t you think we spend enough money there?” “Crab cakes are good, not my fault

They had finally made it home and placed Leo down in his new bed.

“Good night, my little Parrot,” The farmer said kissing him on the forehead

[a-complex-joke]

bachelor/ettes and the pet  names they use

Alex: babe, honey, handsome/gorgeous, angel Alex would go for the more conventional pet names that people use in romcoms and sitcoms because those are what feel natural to him. He’ll also start using angel because that’s who the farmer is to him: his best friend, the first person in town that he really opened up to. Apart from that and constantly talking about how attractive he finds the farmer, most of his affection is expressed through his actions, so he doesn’t put too much thought into pet names.

Elliott: my love, my star, darling Do I even have to explain this? “Darling” and “my love” are his go-tos, but he prefers to call the farmer by their name because he thinks it sounds beautiful and loooves saying it. And you know he’ll wax poetic at the drop of a hat (e.g. “you are the ocean breeze, blowing my troubled thoughts apart,” etc.). The farmer is, after all, a great source of his inspiration.

Harvey: dear, darling, honey Harvey goes for the pet names that you’d associate with married middle-aged couples. This is backed up by the vanilla dialogue, and it is precious. He also doesn’t mind using these in front of other people, mostly because he’s usually not even aware that he’s using pet names. Love this man.

Sam: babe, butt nugget, cutie, hot stuff Of all the characters, Sam is the one who comes up with the most pet names. “Babe” is probably the most respectable pet name this goofball will ever call the farmer. Sure, he’ll call them by their name/variations of their name when he’s serious or getting his romance on. The rest of the time, though, he’ll call the farmer silly names, most of which have “butt” in them (and he’ll cop the occasional feel when he does use these nicknames lol). Boy just wants to make the farmer smile. :’)

Sebastian: babe Sebastian generally doesn’t do pet names. One day he slipped up and called the farmer “babe,” and he hated himself for it, but now he can’t stop. He’ll never let another living soul hear him use that pet name, though. Other than that, Sebby isn’t conventionally affectionate, so he expresses his love in his own ways. Just don’t make him call you “babykins” or whatever.

Shane: bugaboo, peach, sunshine, bud, honey, chickadee Shane comes up with the dorkiest (slightly unconventional) names because he is a total cornball. He really likes “bugaboo” because not only does it sound ridiculouus, but it can also be used to describe someone who’s annoyingly clingy/persistent (like how he saw the farmer when they first met). In a way, it’s meaningful for him because it reminds him of how much his life has changed. The best part is he gets so used to using dorky pet names that he calls the farmer “peach” even when he isn’t feeling particularly affectionate.

Abigail: boo, pumpkin, pard'ner, dork, loser Abby thinks her ghost-y default pet name (boo) is hilarious. She’ll use pumpkin in private when she’s feeling sappy. “Pard'ner” is a reference to Journey of the Prairie King. And since she’s the type of person who’ll flip someone off as an affectionate greeting, she’ll also lovingly call the farmer mild, meaningless insults like “dork” and “loser” when she’s feeling playful. Emphasis on “lovingly!!!”

Emily: love, starshine, dewdrop, honeydew, sweet pea I honestly can’t even imagine enough nicknames for Emily to use because she uses really sweet, really out-there terms that are mostly inspired by nature. The farmer is special, and Emily wants to remind them of that!

Haley: bunny, sweetie, honey, cutie, cupcake, pickle If the pet name sounds overly cutesy or refers to something cute, there’s a 10000% chance that Haley’s into it. She just loves showering the farmer with affection through little ways like this.

Leah: dear Leah’s love language isn’t really spoken with words. She’d rather help out on the farm and take care of you and give you gifts to show her love. She’s not really into pet names, but she thinks “dear” is a sweet thing to call someone she loves. When she expresses her feelings with words, it’s usually with direct statements about how much she loves and appreciates the farmer.

Maru: hun, honey Maru’s not that into nicknames, either. She expresses her affection through practical or physical ways, like checking on the farmer’s tools, checking up on them, handholding, smooches, etc. She probably grew up hearing her parents call each other “hun” or “honey,” and she subconsciously adopted the behavior, too.

Penny: honey, dearest, sweetie, liebling, schatzi, minou/minette, qinai, ghazal Considering how well-read Penny is, no one can convince me that she isn’t at least a little interested in other languages. She’s tried to learn new languages on her own, but given the lack of conversational partners to practice with in Pelican Town, she hasn’t really had much success. She can probably speak French as well as a three-year-old can. Despite all that, and partly because of her interest in archaeology and cultures, she loves learning and using new pet names from different cultures (and seeing the farmer react to them).

(((P.S. I may or may not be working on some dialogue mods to make these hcs a reality.)))

[a-complex-joke]

Another interesting question for the people of Tumblr

[a-complex-joke]

Pelican Town base

MASTERLIST

So due to the fact that My first fic I wrote in the universe seems to be a little bit liked id like to explain the basics of Pelican town for how ill be writing it.

So In less stated the stories will take place after you finished the game.(unlocked ginger island, repaired the community center, ect)

The farmer’s spouse is dependent of the story, but not dependent on if their Marriage candidates in game (Manie, the wizard, and maybe even some of the not so singles)

Along with the main cast of Stardew the cast of the Expanded will also be here, meaning even more possible fics to write.

I also hate the fact that there is only 3 children in the games so I may be making my own villager in order to expand the lore.

And finally because this is after the story of the game there needs to be a little bit of expedition for what happens.

After the Farmer was able to fix up the town, the people started to turn against Lewis, releasing how much he didn’t care for the people of Pelican City. He, not wanting to take any flack, steps down from his Position as Mayor.(he still lives in town but now is just another face in the crowd)

Everyone wanted to Elect The farmer for Mayor but due to their busy life they decided, in turn electing Robin to the Position. At first it was a shop but she took on the job very naturally.

Demitius and her are currently separated, needing some time to reflect on themselves and their relationship.

Morris ended up moving into town, after losing his job with Joja. It was pretty awkward around town for the first few weeks but he acutely managed to get a job at Clint’s (that way they can both be the worst together) Clint has him mine minerals, though they do have to hire the farmer to fight off creatures.

Now that the town is under better management people are starting to gravitate to Pelican town making this little town just a little bigger.

Head-cannons that will be include

Caroline cheated on Perrie with the wizard resulting in Abigail

The old Mariner is Birdie’s husband(and a ghost)

Grandpa and Mr. Qi where lovers at one point

[a-complex-joke]

junimo breakdancing

animated on stream !!

[a-complex-joke]

When you're just trying to make some goddamn soup but Elliott wants to have sex in his mouldy ass cabin.

[a-complex-joke]

Stardew Valley MASTERLIST

Base

The Farmer, The writer, and the Parrot

[a-complex-joke]

The Farmer, The writer, and the Parrot

Farmer x Elliott (x Leo!platonic)

Stardew MASTERLIST

Farmer is nervous to ask Elliott if he would be up to adopting Leo, or any kids in the future. Farmer is also worried about how Leo might react to the offer.

The farmer had been frantic all morning, they had done all their chores for the day.

Yet they had been avoiding even looking at their partner, Elliott the whole time.

For the past week since Leo had moved to town, The Farmer seemed deep in thought and even a bit skittish. 

Elliott had indeed taken notice of their behavior, noting the fact that they hadn’t even come home that night, opting to stick by the mines.

Was he worried? Sure. but the farmer often lost track of time and would return later than reasonable, while still waking before himself.

Elliot found it admirable, but Ignoring him was a step too far.

“So where are you going?” Elliott said standing between them and the door.

“I was going to the mines, Clint requested way more Iron than I already had” they smiled not meeting the redhead’s eyes.

“Farmer tell me the truth, have I done something to cause you to grow so distant… is there someone else?”

It broke his heart to admit the insecurities he had been feeling, and on the flip side, it saddened The farmer that they had made him feel so.

“No! There is no one else who could ever compare to you” They put a hand to his cheek.

“Then why have you been ignoring me”

The farmer looked to their feet, mumbling something.

“Darling, you know I can’t hear you when you do that” He lifted their chin.

The farmer took a deep breath before letting it out.

“I know he never really discussed the whole if we wanted kids or not and I know it all of a sudden, but seeing Leo living all alone with no one to take care of him, it just feels like a pin is stabbing my heart. So I've been bringing him meals every day, and last night he was already asleep when I got there but I could tell he was having a nightmare so I just stayed there to comfort him. And what I'm trying to say is I want to adopt Leo, but I was scared of how you’d react” 

There was a loud silence in the room as The farmer caught their breath.

“Oh thank Yoba, I thought you were going crazy and acutely doing an order for Clint there for a second, Harvey was on speed dial,” Elliott said releasing a breath himself.

“That’s what you're focusing on, I just spilled that I want us to raise a child together.”

“Hun, I'd love to raise a little army of children if you wanted, honestly the fact that you want to bring Leo into our lives just makes me love you more,” He said embracing his partner.

“But what if that is not what he wants, Linus is perfectly content with being somewhat homeless, and they are close as can be. What if he takes it as an insult” The farmer vented, tears threatening to fall.

“The worst that could happen is that he chooses not to come live with us. Even if we don’t adopt him, he’ll still be in our lives as will we in his. And we’ll care for him no matter what” Elliott said kissing their forehead.

“How did I get so lucky to marry such a caring man”

“It came with the job I guess” He joked.

The two decided to wait till they could commission Robin to build another room, even If Leo rejected the offer they weren’t gonna give up on the prospect of being parents.

To say Robin was ecstatic at the news would have been the biggest understatement since the town ‘learned’ of Mayor Lewis and Manires Affair.

A month had passed before the pair decided they were finally ready to ask Leo. A room decorated with a large window looking out towards the farm, what more could he want?

“Hi Leo, how are you today” Farmer asked sitting down next to him.

“Oh hi, Farmer, I'm good, are you and Mr. Elliott all right, miss Robin said you guys were doing something life-changing, that's why your house was under construction right?”

Oh, Robin and her loud mouth.

“Well, yes we are planning on doing something very different, and it actually why where here. We needed to ask you something really important” Elliot said now getting down to his level.

“Now before we do we want you to know that you can say no, and we won’t hold it against you” 

The child nodded.

“We wanted to know if you’d like to come live with us, we want to adopt you. You’d be our child and we’d be your new parents” The farmer was starting to struggle a bit.

“You’d still have the tree house of course but, maybe this could be more of a clubhouse for Jas, Vincnt, and you.”

Leo stayed silent before speaking in a hushed voice

“What if I lose you like I lost my real parents” tears poked out of his eyes.

“Oh hun come here” The farmer pulled Leo onto their lap, ushering Elliott to come closer.

“We don’t plan on going anywhere, and even if we did that won’t be for a long while”

“Will I still be able to visit with the parrots?” Leo questioned.

“As long as they don’t eat all the crop” Elliott tried lightening the mood.

The three sat cuddled in the tree house till Leo had become tired, falling asleep in the arms of the farmer.

“You know I can carry him” Elliott offered as they walked back home.

“no I've got him, he’s really light, we’ve got to fatten him up,” the farmer said a little concerned.

“I'm sure Gus would love to have a taste tester with an exotic pallet”

“Don’t you think we spend enough money there?” “Crab cakes are good, not my fault

They had finally made it home and placed Leo down in his new bed.

“Good night, my little Parrot,” The farmer said kissing him on the forehead

[a-complex-joke]

Last chance to vote (this poll didn't go as expected)

Hey y'all so I've got an interesting question for you

Mind you this would not me x readers or inserts just a good old fashioned fic

[a-complex-joke]

Anger

Why are there no Fanfics about this game, like in genral but mostly a John x reader! like it's not seacret I love my older guys, but he's also british

people please write them. I NEED them

or at least find the game and Play/watch it

[a-complex-joke]

Hey y'all so I've got an interesting question for you

Mind you this would not me x readers or inserts just a good old fashioned fic

[a-complex-joke]

I mean i'm not sure what really dignifies safe in this case but you know im not agnst aromantic people at all so I think my page is safe.

I write Smut also and sometime x readers so that might not be their cup of tea

REBLOG IF YOUR BLOG IS A SAFE SPACE FOR AROMANTIC PEOPLE AND IF YOU THINK THEY ARE VALID

I want to see how many people actually are willing to say this and not just act like it

[a-complex-joke]

the Angel and the Assassin extras

MASTERLIST

Playlist

[a-complex-joke]

The Angel and the Assassin

MASTERLIST

“Wow man, I don’t need to know all that” the Angel interrupted

“I mean, the details were not required… Mr.Myers” she regained her composer

“You wanted the whole story and that was a big moment in it” I answered, taking another gulp of the gin.

The angel sat silent trying to process everything I had just told her.

“So now you two were in love, together till her death?”

I sighed “Aemiliae, have you ever been in love?” I asked seeming to surprise her.

“No… Angels don’t do, That. we do not do anything, just talk to human souls, once we finish our memories are erased, so we don’t develop a basis” she looked at me doe Eyed.

“Really, that's all angels do?” 

“Well , healer angels do, there are many types, some collect the souls from earth. I envy them so.”

“So Angels can feel things?”

As if shocked at her own words she jumped readjusting herself in her chair.

“We have to continue with your story now.”

“What else is there for you to know I'm a sinner.”

“Not all the sins humans say are sins to the almighty, maybe your more close to heaven then you think”

I sighed knowing that this was gonna go to the very end.

[a-complex-joke]

The angel and the Assassin Chapter 6

MASTERLIST

We had kept hanging out for about a month, she’d end up spending the night and be gone by the morning.

But with us spending so much time together there was a lingering air.

Something we could both feel yet neither wanted to bring up.

We were snuggled under a blanket, we were watching some cheesy soap opera that at the time we were sucked into, but now I couldn’t even tell you the plot.

There was this doctor guy and his girlfriend who had come to see him after her business trip, they took it as an opportunity to have very rough sex. It was pretty graphic for a TV show.

Sitting so close together we both could feel the other growing hot. I'll admit I made the first move, interlocking our hands, her simply nuzzling into me.

She sat up pausing the show before climbing on top of me to straddle my hips, wrapping her arms around my neck.

“I can see the shows getting you a little flustered, want me to help you with that,” she said slightly grinding on me, her eyes glowing with lust.

“N-no we can’t” 

“Why not I'm saying I want to and you need a release, I know you’ve been looking over every inch of my body anytime you can”

Had I been doing that so obviously that she took notice?

“No you don’t want this, you're just tired, you're not thinking right,” I said trying to move her arms from around me, she leaned closer our noses rubbing against each other.

“That's what your brain is telling you but what is your body saying? you don’t want to kiss me right now?” she whispered

She was already so close I couldn’t help but peck her lips, the pecks soon turned into longer and more physical smooching, my hands naturally falling to support her ass.

“See, I knew you were fun” she laughed before reconnecting her lips to mine.

She started licking my lips trying to brute force her way through them.

“Slow down cutie, I want to savior you for as long as I can”

She pouted “Well then maybe we should continue this in your bed” she pecked my lips. before getting up and beckoning me to the bedroom.

At that point, I'm sure I was thinking with my dick, I practically ran to my bedroom.

Finding Amelia already lying in my bed, her shirt and skirt thrown on the floor leaving her in a lace bra and pantie set and thigh-high socks.

She lay on her back, her legs wide open, balancing herself on her elbows.

“Well are you just gonna stare at me or are you gonna come and show just how much you’d love to Savior me” she spoke.

I started unbuttoning my shirt and walking toward her. I crawled over her lips finding their way back to her’s. Our tongues tangle with one another

I could feel my pants being messed with. pulling away I see Amelia working to remove my paints, a smile appears on her face.

“Don’t think I should be the only one left in their underwear, oh I see your little friend has perked up” she said locking her lips back with mine.

“It’s all your fault,” I said in between breaths, hurting to remove my pants.

She pushed me back, and for a second I thought maybe she changed her mind, that I had gone too far, but looking at her she had flipped herself to be sitting on her knees, her ass up in the air.

I stared in awe at her panties hugging her ass. She contorted her body to look back at me.

“Do I need to beg you to fuck me?” she laughed

My body moved on its own, pulling the panties aside, and starting to rub her vulva.

“So wet for me, I've barely even touched you yet”

“Maybe that's how you make all women feel,” she said, trying to hold in her moans, till I stuck a finger in her.

“You're so tight, I'm not sure I'll fit, without breaking you.

Another finger was inserted.

“I can take it, so give it to me already, damit!”

She was getting so needy by this point, and who was I to deny her that release?

I lined myself up with her opening.

“Are you sure, we can stop now if you not” I asked her

“I think I've been sure since I laid eyes on you” she half laughed

I suck it in, earning a gasp from her. “Tell me to stop if it hurts. OK?”

She nodded the best she could with her face pressed into the bed.

I started moving, back and forth, each thrust causing a muffled moan to escape her gorgeous lips. I couldn't help but release some of my own as the walls of her uterus hugged me.

I moved my hands from her arse and up to her breasts, her hands gripping the blanket underneath her.

“Do you want to lay on your back now?” I asked, not even getting fully done before she flipped herself, opening her legs to let me get the best view.

I started pounding her again, our lips finding their way back to one another.

She pulled away “A-asher if we keep going like this im gonna cum, before you”.

It struck me as an odd thing to say, I was no virgin and I knew she wasn’t either. My best guess is that the men she had been with before were selfish pricks who only used her to get off.

I thrust harder and further, causing Her to yelp.

“Sorry was that too hard” I stopped

“NO! I-I mean keep doing that” She gripped the blanket again.

Judging by the warm gushy feeling, Amelia had cum.

“Just relax hun, I'll make you feel like never before,” I said starting back up, a symphony of moans and groans rang out with every thrust.

And before I knew it I ejaculated.

There was a good time before I removed myself from her, just laying on top of her trying to catch my breath.

“You want to cuddle under the covers till we fall asleep,” she asked a bit timid.

I stood up, grabbed her up, and placed her at the head of the bed before crawling in myself.

As soon as I pulled the cover over us, she rested her head against my chest.

“Good night my little angel” I whispered to her before kissing her head and closing my eyes.

She was still there in the morning when I woke up, peacefully sleeping beside me.

[a-complex-joke]

Living After Midnight (Failed Rockstar!Eddie x Motel Worker!Reader)

♫ Summary: Running an errand together brings out even more sides of Eddie Munson, including one that you wish you'd never seen (5.2k words)

♫ CW: slowburn, strangers-to-lovers, angst, parental conflict, poverty, jealousy, eventual smut (18+ only, minors DNI)

♫ Divider credit to @hellfire--cult

chapter six: the eye of the tiger

Guilt fit like the shoes your mom forced you to wear as a kid, the dressy ones reserved for special occasions. It pinched at you, dug into you, a constant reminder of its unwelcome presence.

And so you did everything you could to alleviate the discomfort. On Wednesday, Dad mosied into the lobby for his shift to find the floor meticulously swept; there was not a speck of dust in sight. If he had any suspicions, he didn’t bother to show them. He was probably just grateful for the help regardless of its cause.

Mom, as usual, was more skeptical of your intentions, raising a disbelieving brow when you presented her with the bills you’d reorganized by their due dates. You’d offered up the excuse of being bored with nothing better to do. Did she buy it? Unlikely. But she also didn’t pose further questions, choreographing another step in your dance.

And when Dad hung up the phone Friday afternoon, thumb and forefinger massaging the bridge of his nose, you jumped at the chance to fix the situation.

“Everything okay?”

He looked up with a start, too wrapped up in his own thoughts to realize you’d been standing in the doorway. 

“That was Uncle Mo,” he said with an elongated sigh. “The delivery truck won’t start; something’s busted, I guess, so we won’t get our wallpaper until it’s out of the shop.”

“I can go after class,” you volunteered. The shop was a twenty minute bus ride from school, no transfers required. Lugging it on the subway back home might prove more challenging, but you could manage it. 

He dashed your dreams with a swift shake of his head. “They close early for the Sabbath.” Which meant they’d be closed all day tomorrow, too. 

Dad glanced around at the walls, lip scraping over his bottom lip. Their barrenness unsettled him; his pride and joy left empty and exposed.  

Imagine how he’ll feel once this place is boarded up for good. Bet he won’t care about some ugly walls then. 

“I’ll go on Sunday.” The promise practically made itself before you could stop it. Your final paper was due on Tuesday, and you had planned to spend your weekend finishing it, but that would need to take a backseat until the wallpaper crisis was resolved.

You could be part of that solution. For now, at least.

Sunlight teased summer’s beginning and warmed your skin. The walk to the subway station required you to cross paths with the mailbox you’d fought with—and humbly lost to—a few days prior. Dejection shot through your chest as you paused in front of it, focusing on a spot of rusted metal where the paint had flaked off. Short of intercepting the United States Postal Service, there was nothing you could do. Besides, your acceptance was probably already locked inside NYU’s admissions office, sitting among a pile of identical envelopes. Most of them, you suspected, were mailed with exuberance and not with the trepidation you carried. 

The station’s stuffiness engulfed you as you descended the stairs, fingertips brushing the railing to ensure your balance. Your return trip would be short of torture, sweat prickling beneath your arms at the mere thought of dragging wallpaper through the thick humidity. You might have to splurge for a cab to avoid melting completely.

Frantic, impassioned guitar strumming grabbed your attention just before you approached the turnstile, echoing off of the concrete and infiltrating all of your senses. Your breath caught in your throat when you saw that Eddie was the source of the noise. He leaned against the wall as he played an electric guitar—the same one he had clutched so dearly when sleeping at the bus stop. There was no microphone, no amplifier; just him and his instrument. The case was open in front of him, now holding a few scattered dollar bills and some loose change. 

He didn’t notice you, not at first, so you took that opportunity to silently watch him. His head nodded along with the beat, his voice a low timbre as he sang. 

Trust I seek and I find in you 

Every day for us something new 

Open mind for a different view 

And nothing else matters

The chords were nearly drowned out by his vocals, and the softer strumming should have clashed with the harsh lyrics, but he made it work. 

It was somehow even sadder than when Metallica played it, though not from a lack of power. Eddie’s version intertwined anger with desperation, a somber reprise of the gritty original. 

Deft fingers pressed into the frets, the pick pinched between the other hand’s thumb and forefinger. He took a step forward to launch himself into the chorus with a combination of focus and ease. This is what he was meant to do, what he was born to do. Whether he was in front of a captivated audience of thousands or a smattering of indifferent commuters, he was a rockstar. 

Never cared for what they say

Never cared for games they play

Never cared for what they do

Never cared for what they know

And I know, yeah, yeah

Heat blossomed in your belly at his gravelly voice, the way he pulled the notes from the depths of his diaphragm and belted them out. The E train came and went as it screeched along the tracks, but you remained as though the soles of your feet were glued to the ground. 

So close, no matter how far

Couldn't be much more from the heart 

Forever trusting who we are 

No, nothing else matters

For a brief moment after finishing the song, Eddie’s chest puffed out with pride. It quickly faltered in the absence of applause, but before he could play another song, his gaze landed on you. He grinned and shook a stray lock of hair out of his eyes. Part of you wanted to fix it for him, to tuck it behind his ear or sweep it all back into a ponytail, but you refrained. Instead, you dug into your purse and tossed a dollar into the case. 

“Was that the one I gave you for the cab?” Eddie asked, fingers absently brushing over the strings in a series of random chords. 

“Nah, this was from the other asshole guest who made me late for class.”

Your jibe caught him off-guard and he actually laughed with such force that he had to stop playing. “And here I thought I was the only one.” He ran a hand through his hair, wincing as it snagged on a knot. “Are you going to the library or something?”

You lacked the energy to explain that the library was in the opposite direction, opting instead to cut to the chase. “Picking up the wallpaper.”

Eddie’s brow furrowed and he cocked his head. “I thought it was being delivered.” As you relayed the whole broken-truck saga, he started sliding the guitar strap up off of his back and crouched down, stuffing the money from the case into his pockets. “Cool. I’ll go with.”

“Oh, I wasn’t–” You paused mid-sentence to consider your words. “I mean, you don’t have to. I can do it on my own.”

“S’fine.” Eddie laid the guitar down with the fragility that one would handle a newborn baby and snapped the case shut. “Didn’t realize this station is basically dead on Sundays. I normally just play here during the week, but I’ve been out of commission.” He held up his bandaged finger and pouted impishly.

The familiar playfulness settled back into the conversation, breaking up any lingering awkwardness, and you snatched up the opportunity to tease him. “Ah, right. Your man stuff.”

“Very manly. Burly, some might say.” He extended one hand in front of him, palm up, to gesture towards the turnstiles. “Shall we?”

You led and he followed behind so closely that his chest smacked into your back when you stopped in your tracks. The uneven weight distribution, courtesy of the guitar case lolling at his side, thrusted him forward, the metal buckle on his belt digging into your skin through your shirt. 

It set off a domino effect, one that had you falling face-first to the ground. Before you could even brace for impact, you felt Eddie’s fingers digging into your hip and tugging you upright. The way he caught you was almost reflexive, his grasp controlled enough to avoid bruising your skin, but strong enough that you realized he could if he wanted to. 

“What happened?” His tone was mixed with both concern and amusement; a crackle of laughter broke up his question. 

An embarrassing adrenaline surge shot through you, bringing with it a chill that immediately preceded a heatwave of perspiration. “The, um…” You lamely pointed at the card swipe machines that had replaced the token receptacles. “I forgot that we need those MetroCard things.” 

Eddie let go of your hip and you felt his absence almost immediately. “No, we don’t.” He left no time for questioning, hoisting the case to the other side and pushing himself up and over the bar, landing on his feet with cat-like dexterity. 

You stared at him in disbelief. Sure, you’d jumped the turnstile a time or two, but that was back in high school, under the influence of friends you hadn’t talked to since. 

“What’re you waiting for?” He called out. A Cheshire-cat grin graced his lips. 

What were you waiting for? It’s not like the transit police were scouring the station. The poor schmuck stuck at the now-defunct token booth was exasperatedly trying to explain the new system to an older gentleman; he probably wouldn’t have noticed a wildebeest stampede. And you certainly weren’t eager to contribute to the politicians who lined their pockets with taxpayer money. 

Fuck it. 

In one swift motion—much more graceful than your earlier stumble—you mimicked his actions. One foot, then the other, your biceps supporting your body weight. 

“You little rebel.” Eddie tutted, his smirk showing off his teeth. You never noticed the way one canine is slightly sharper than the other, and it digs into his lower lip. “This is how it starts, y’know. One day, you’re skipping out on train fare; the next, you’re committing armed robbery.”

If he kept rubbing your nerves raw, you might be more tempted to commit homicide. 

Another E train arrived not long after. You were an expert at scouting empty seats, and you made a beeline for the first one you found. There was another one across the way, just vacated by a woman pushing a stroller, and you assumed Eddie would take it. 

Instead, he shoved his guitar case towards you, parting your legs between the knees, and grabbed onto one of the overhead handles. 

“Can you hold this?” Eddie asked belatedly. He rocked forward onto his toes as the train moved to keep his balance. A guitar pick necklace swung out from beneath the vee of his shirt and swayed above you. 

You drank in the way he towered over you, so close that he was all you could see. The mingled scents of the motel’s soap and a musky deodorant wafted off of him and enveloped your senses. For a second, there was only him, and whatever the outside world had to offer was just shy of meaningless. 

“There’s a seat down there.” You peered around him and gestured to the one you’d spotted earlier, careful not to point at anyone. 

Eddie looked but declined with a shrug. “Nah, I’m good. I like standing.”

“See, that’s the kind of thing that separates the natives from the transplants.” You smiled up at him. “You didn’t even want to sit down after a gig? Or a long rehearsal?”

“I didn’t really ever take the subway,” he admitted. “Maybe, like, once or twice.”

You huffed out an incredulous laugh. “How did you get around?” 

“Taxis, car service.” He ticked off the items on his free hand. “One time we rented a helicopter, but then the label threatened to revoke the company card.” He chuckled forlornly, like the memory was heavier than an impromptu helicopter ride. 

“Sounds like you were living the life.”

Eddie shook off his wistfulness with a cheeky grin. “Hell yeah. Expensive restaurants, swanky hotels…did I ever tell you about the time we trashed our room?”

“You did not.” You’re not sure you want to know, considering he’s currently staying in one of yours. 

He laughed. “Get this: we come back to the hotel after a gig. We’re all fuckin’ exhausted. As soon as we walk into the lobby, the night manager is on us like a hawk. I mean, the guy gave a stink eye like you wouldn’t believe.” He tried mimicking him, but he was too upbeat to embody the manager’s full ire. “Anyway, we’re not in the room for five minutes when there’s a knock on the door. Of course it’s that schmuck, warning us about the noise policy.”

You looked at him incredulously. “That’s why you destroyed a hotel room?” 

“Mhm.” Eddie proudly nodded, not missing the way concern furrowed your brow. “Don’t worry, Heiress. I’d never trash your place.”

“I’d have to get Phyllis after you.” Laughter bubbled out of you at his visible cringe, probably thinking of being on the other end of her baseball bat. “Okay, so what’s the dumbest thing you guys bought with the company card?”

People pushed through the aisle as the train pulled up to the stop, elbows nudging Eddie until he was practically on top of you. Every hair on your body stood up at the sudden change in proximity. “Probably one of those stuffed tiger things for our apartment,” he admitted.

“You and your band bought a taxidermied tiger?” You scoffed. 

His face flushed, and he scratched at his jaw like he’d been caught red-handed. “N-No, not the whole band. Just me and the drummer. We, um, she was my girlfriend, I guess.”

Puzzle pieces started falling into place and interlocking curves. His ex-girlfriend was also in the band, which was probably why they broke up once Eddie quit. “How long were you two together?” You instantly regret not asking about the tiger instead, for his sake and yours. 

“Hard to say; we were pretty on-and-off.” Eddie tried to play it off casually but terse laughter gave him away. The subway lurched and Eddie swayed forward again, his knee grazing yours. “But it was about a year from start to finish.”

You let the information sink in. He had a girlfriend in Death’s Echo, but he seemed to be unattached at the moment. Made sense, considering he was living in your motel rather than with a partner.

“That’s what no one tells you about money: it runs out.” Eddie continued. “It’s like, common sense or whatever. But when you have no money and then you get a shit-ton of it, it’s hard to imagine ever going back.” 

His eyes found yours like he had been searching for them, and you held his gaze until a monotone voice crackled over the speaker, announcing that the train was approaching the Forest Hills-71st Avenue station. 

“We have to transfer here.”

Eddie wrinkled his nose, clearly not thrilled by this extra step, but he followed your lead without any audible protest.

“Y’know,” he said as the doors opened, the two of you joining the swarm of people pushing their way out, “my neighborhood back home was also called Forest Hills.”

“Seems fancy,” you quipped. 

He laughed, head thrown back. “Oh, yeah. It’s the most glamorous trailer park in all of Indiana.”

The faux pas curdled in your stomach. What were you thinking? He had just confessed that he was broke before Death’s Echo. 

“Sorry, that was stupid.”

He shrugged off your comment, seemingly unbothered. “How many stops is this next one?”

“Just two.”

He hummed his acknowledgment, and with the R train less crowded than the E, you found seats adjacent to one another.

You did your best to ignore the way his right leg brushed your left, the worn denim against your bare skin as the train jostled him. He murmured a barely-audible “sorry.”

There was no reason for him to apologize, and you almost told him this, but you substituted a tight smile for words. Truthfully, you were glad he confirmed that the touch was accidental. You’d nearly nudged him back, a secret handshake of sorts, and your body burned with the mere prospect of embarrassment.

The train screeched to a stop in front of a sign that barely read 63rd Drive-Rego Park, most of the letters covered in colorful graffiti tags. 

“This is us,” you said, handing him back his guitar so you could stand up. 

Eddie stepped aside with a small bow, equal parts awkward and endearing. “So, uh, where are we going, exactly?” He stayed close enough so you could hear him over the cacophony of commuters. 

“S’just a few blocks.” You maintained your fast-paced stride so as to not get bowled over. 

He kept up with you surprisingly well for someone unused to navigating the city’s public transit. The fresh air welcomed you as you ascended the stairs, leaving behind the station’s mugginess. Conversations and traffic replaced metallic clunking while you weaved in and out of a sea of pedestrians, checking every so often to ensure you hadn’t left Eddie behind. 

Bold white letters on a maroon awning proudly proclaimed Eisen’s Paint and Supply, and the faint sound of bell chimed when you opened the door. A middle-aged man stood behind the counter, eyes lighting up when you walked in. 

“Uncle Mo!” You exclaimed, wrapping your arms around him in a hug. Uncle Mo wasn’t your father’s brother, but their bond went beyond blood relation. He was part of nearly all of Dad’s stories since they’d met in high school: the good, the bad, and the ugly. 

There was more gray in his hair and in his beard than the last time you’d seen him, the lines from his lips to his jaw more pronounced, but he still wore the same cologne that you’d remembered. The familiar scent was like home, a reminder of all of the Thanksgivings your families had spent together before the motel engulfed your life. 

He beamed, his hands bracing your upper arms as he got a better look at you. “Look at you; so grown up!” His eyes misted over for a second before he blinked the moisture away. “How long has it been?”

“Too long.” You turned back to Eddie, waving him over and introducing him. Uncle Mo politely extended a hand that Eddie shook quickly before shoving his fingers back in his pocket. 

“Before I get your paper,” Uncle Mo said to you with a mischievous smile, “I have a bit of a surprise.” The stockroom door swung open on cue and a young man stepped out from behind it. 

Your hand flew to your mouth in shock, every bone in your body vibrating. “Ben?” The name was muffled but still audible, and Ben opened his arms just in time for you to tackle him in an embrace.

His gangly teenage limbs had been replaced with hard muscle, his chest straining through his t-shirt. There was no trace of the wispy excuse for a mustache he’d once proudly sported; his face was freshly shaven, only the slightest evidence of his stubble scratched against your cheek when he pulled you to him. 

“I couldn’t believe it when my dad told me you were stopping by,” Ben said, finally letting go after a few moments. He looked at Eddie as if noticing him for the first time. “Ben. Nice to meet you.”

Eddie said nothing in response, his jaw set and his arms crossed over his chest. Whatever friendliness he’d shown Uncle Mo was clearly not being granted to his son. 

“Ben, this is Eddie,” you hurried to explain before the tension became unbearably dense. “He works for the motel, doing different repairs and odd jobs. Whatever we need, really.”

Your old friend nodded and brought his attention back to you. “Do you guys need help bringing the wallpaper back? I don’t have anything to–”

“We’ve got it.” Eddie cut him off curtly, clipping the conversation’s wings. His eyes narrowed in judgmental assessment and their milk chocolate hue turned dark.

Ben had evidently stepped on his toes; you thought back to the wasp’s nest and his adamance to clobber it with a baseball bat despite your insistence to wait until you bought the spray. You shot Eddie a look that he either disregarded or didn’t notice, because his clenched jaw never loosened. 

“Right, yeah.” A blush crept into Ben’s cheeks, the other man’s brusqueness catching him off-guard. “But we should catch up soon,” he said to you, “maybe grab a cup of coffee?”

It was an effort to ignore the way Eddie tensed up; even more so to pretend like his reaction hadn’t stirred something inside of you. Everything between you and him, and you and Ben, was strictly platonic. Whatever melodrama he’d conjured up was his problem, not yours. 

Your relationship with Eddie teetered between acquaintances and friends; he was in no position to get bent out of shape over you going for coffee with Ben or any other man.

You pushed the intrusive thought away long enough to answer Ben’s question. “Yeah, of course! You’re home for the whole summer?”

“Actually…” Ben’s grin widened, harboring a secret he was eager to spill. “I’m back for good. You’re looking at Dr. Benjamin Eisen, D.D.S.”

“That’s amazing!”

He nodded happily, enthusiasm unrestrained. “Thanks. I’m hoping to open up a practice nearby, so I’ll be sticking around for a while.”

That was the best news you’d heard in a while. The pair of you were once inseparable, always devising plans to convince your parents to extend their visits. When you were six, you’d almost started a fire trying to put on a pot of coffee, hoping that it would coax the Eisens into staying longer. 

Too bad you’d forgotten to add the water. 

Uncle Mo returned from the stock room with rolls of wallpaper, and his son shuffled towards him to take one from his grasp. 

“Are you sure I can’t help out?” Ben tried again. He only looked at you when he spoke. 

You almost took him up on his offer, the reply sitting on the tip of your tongue, but Eddie answered for you. 

“We’re good,” he said flatly, taking the rolls from the other men. “I used to lug around amps all the time. This is nothing.”

He’d uttered the same phrase before taking a bat to a wasp’s nest, and he’d ended up hurt. Still, inviting Ben along would almost certainly guarantee an awkward commute home. At best, you’d force stilted small talk; at worst, Eddie might shove Ben onto the tracks. 

“Thanks anyway,” you said politely, trying to temper your irritation. 

Ben gave a tight smile, brows shooting up when remembered something. “Let me give you my new phone number so we can set up a time to meet up.” He plucked a business card from the little plastic container on the desk, flipping it over and scrawling his number on the back. 

“Sounds great.” It truly did, save for Eddie’s glare that made you grateful looks couldn’t actually kill. 

Tucking the card into your purse, you held him in one last hug before bidding them goodbye. 

Eddie said nothing the entire walk back to the subway station. He strode there despite heaving around a guitar case and cylinders of wallpaper. You suspected he could have flown there if he wasn’t so bogged down. The closest he came to acknowledging your presence was the scoff he let out when you veered off-course to buy a MetroCard. 

You ignored him, still fuming over his behavior towards Ben. With trembling fingers, you dropped your change into the coin slot, acutely aware of his presence as he stood beside you. He was close enough that you could hear his tense sigh, as though his frustration was justified.

Yanking the card out from behind the swinging Plexiglass, you silently stalked over to the turnstile, Eddie begrudgingly hot on your heels. The tiny diagram showed the magnetic strip facing downwards and you did your best to emulate it. After two failed swipes, the machine relented and gave an approving beep.

“Go,” you told Eddie, and when he stared at you blankly, you repeated yourself with considerably less patience. “Go.”

“Okay, okay.” There was no hiding his surprise at your insistence, the sharpness of your tongue. He obviously wasn't accustomed to taking the attitude he dished out. His eyebrows crashed into his hairline as he maneuvered through, wallpaper bumping up against the metal gates. 

There wasn’t enough money left on the card for you, so after a brief glance at your surroundings, you once again lift yourself up and over to the other side. The metal barrier seemed laughably obsolete beneath you.

Eddie blinked twice in rapid succession but composed himself before you reached him again. A peculiar expression graced his face; not so much amusement as much as admiration. If you weren’t so annoyed with him, with his antics back at Eisen’s, you might have cracked a joke about his bad influence rubbing off on you. 

The first leg of the trip—the shortest part, as it were, went smoothly. It was once the E train departed from Forest Hills that it almost immediately halted, the exasperated conductor announcing that extensive track work was causing delays. 

“Fucking great,” you muttered. Experience told you that the remainder of the ride would be stop-and-go, which meant more time spent with Eddie. 

He’d exhaled an exasperated sigh of his own, eyes flickering over the subway car and foot tapping to a beat only he could hear. When he finally spoke, it was the last thing you’d expected him to say. 

“Wanna play I Spy?”

“Um, what?”

“Y’know, I spy with my little eye…” he explained, as though you were confused about the game concept.

It took every last ounce of energy not to burst out laughing at his odd request, though it helped that annoyance still tarnished your mood. “All right. Sure.” 

“Cool.” He glanced around again, rubbing his palms over his thighs in concentration. “Okay, I spy with my little eye, something purple.”

Squinting, you searched for shades of lilac and violet. “That woman’s shirt?” You jutted your chin towards an older woman sitting across the car. 

“Nope.”

“That little girl’s shoes?”

Eddie just shook his head, his dimples gradually deepening with each wrong answer you gave. 

Your next three guesses were also incorrect, and Eddie triumphantly pumped his fist when you admitted defeat. 

“It’s the words on that sign,” he said, pointing to an advertisement for psychic readings. 

It was your turn, and it didn’t take you long to find your target. 

“I spy with my little eye, something…douchey.” Your gaze never left his face, watching the skin crease between his brows as he connected your implication. 

Eddie threw his head back and cackled, drawing the ire of your fellow commuters. You shushed him with a hiss, his apathy only fueling your anger. 

“Fine, I guess I deserved that.” He leaned back in his seat and stretched his arms upwards. For a second, you thought he might drape one over your shoulders, but he brought them right back to his lap. 

“You guess?” You gawped, and he laughed even louder. “You were a total asshole to Ben for no reason.”

Eddie’s voice got feather-soft; you had to lean in to hear him. “Trust me; I had a reason.”

You snorted. “What, him offering to help carry the wallpaper threatened your ‘man stuff?’”

“Something like that.” 

Crossing your arms, you shot him a bemused grimace. Whatever testosterone-laden excuse he concocted would just strengthen your irritation, so you saved yourself the headache and  plundered on. 

“Ben and I have been friends since I was born.” That wasn’t an exaggeration; a photo of one-year-old Ben holding newborn you was tucked away in one of Mom’s albums. Dad had snapped the photo while Uncle Mo sat next to his son, helping cradle your head. You were only a few hours old. “Whatever your problem is, don’t make it mine. Or his,” you add.

Eddie had no response to that, and you preferred it that way. Maybe he was learning not to argue with you, especially when he was so obviously wrong.

Your response halted all conversation for the rest of the extended ride and continued during the short trek back to the motel. The quiet was necessary, but not peaceful, and you refused to buckle when an invisible pull urged you to talk again, to push past the discomfort. If you couldn’t outright tell him that he’d upset you, the least he could do was feel that anger.

“Where do these go?” Eddie asked once the motel’s doors closed behind you. You pointed to the supply closet and he ambled over, wincing as the hinges squeaked in a plea for lubrication. “All right, so, I can get started on this tonight if you want.”

You considered this for a moment before shaking your head. The lobby could survive another night with bare walls, but you needed a break. A break not just from Eddie, but from his naivety to his actions having consequences. 

“Tomorrow’s fine.”

He stilled, his hands halfway in his pockets. “I mean, I was going to stop by anyway; I might as well—”

“I think I just need some quiet tonight.” It was the nicest response you could muster, though the way the words passed through your clenched teeth gave away your annoyance. 

“Oh.” His cheeks puffed out as he exhaled a breath of air, his eyes refusing to meet yours. Confusion tied his tongue, but if he didn’t realize the mistake he’d made, you were in no mood to spell it out. He waited a beat for you to follow up, to iron out the creases with an explanation that had nothing to do with his earlier behavior, but that never happened.

The lack of reassurance pained you, too. You despised leaving matters unfinished; part of you wanted to apologize—for what, you weren’t sure—just to have some resolution. 

Eddie raked his fingers through his curls. “Well, I’m sorry for pissing you off, or whatever.”

Or whatever. Those two words almost had you smacking him upside the head with the wallpaper tubes. Maybe sealing his lips with the glue, too. 

The worst part was the shock on his face when you’d wordlessly stormed out of the supply closet towards your room. Like he had no idea what he’d done wrong or why his non-apology fell flat. 

No, that was a lie. The worst part was actually the pang of disappointment in your chest when there were no footsteps pounding down the hall, no knock on your door, no attempt to talk through the situation. As much as you wanted to be left alone, you’d clutched to an optimistic sliver that he would follow you. It was a pathetic need for proof that he cared about you as more than just his employer. As his friend.

But there was nothing.

That silence hurt most of all. 

--

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