cokebloated-blog

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shroyers‌:

me staring off into the void thinking about old rp partners i miss dearly:

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harryedward‌:

let your child be goofy and silly and make messes. teach them to clean up the messes without yelling at them. let your child be a child. not a mini adult who has to be perfect 24/7

[cokebloated-blog]

the smallest crack.

He sees him all over now. Walking with who Dimitri assumes is his wife (he looks at her the way dad looks at mom like she hangs the moon if she said jump he’d ask ‘how high?’) and who he also assumes is their daughter, she looks like them both, something Dimitri can’t relate.

He’s stepping out of the shower, the steam keeping his skin warm, he wipes it from the mirror. Tucked in the corner is a magazine clipping of Che, Dimitri looks at it every time he gets out of the shower and then looks at himself, it’s surreal.

Dimitri remembers that day, so many years ago. The owl-eyed man who stared at him in shock, or was it disgust? He remembers his mother’s panicked looked and how fast she shooed him back inside of the house. He remembers the stony look on her face when she came back from wherever it is they went. He remembers her flopping down into an armchair, the one his dad loves to sit in and drink whiskey. He remembers her drinking it, straight from the bottle.

Marta’s relationship with alcohol has always taken precedence over anything else. She wanted Dimitri to be the best at everything but, what’s the point of being number one when your mom is sloshed in the stands, reeking of whatever it is she picked that day. A lot of Upper East Side moms show up to PTA meetings tipsy but she’s pulled out a flask, no shame, having a swig of whatever wine her hand touched first before they got there. It was embarrassing but he grew used to it, everyone grew used to it. Slurred words and red-rimmed eyes were a part of her make-up that she put on daily before she took on the world.

Dimitri never asked.

He remembers how she looked when she came home but he didn’t say anything, he was ten he didn’t even know what to say. He could have asked, who is that? But he didn’t really need to know back then. Except things became more visible after that, he questioned it all. Staring at the giant family portrait on the wall in the great room. They look happy, man and wife with their son. Dimitri has Marta’s high cheekbones and perfectly straight nose and he has… no features of Joseph.  

Dimitri learned to ignore the pitiful stares he couldn’t decipher as a child when they went out as a family. His father’s love is all he has ever known. It’s gotten him through so much, too much it almost seems.

Che’s eyes haunt him.

Che’s eyes stare back him when he looks in the mirror.

He found the address by chance, Che’s Upper East Side home was featured in an Architecture magazine and Dimitri balked and had his driver take him up and down every street in the area until he found the house, holding the ripped out page of the building he holds it up and compares. Perfect match. The accompanying article included an anecdote about Che traveling between South Korea and America, if he’s not home, Dimitri can call it a fluke and lick his wounds in the restaurant a few blocks away. Dimitri rings the doorbell, surprised at the lack of security until it catches his eye: the cluster of dome cameras mounted above the door, he can be seen from all angles. Neat.

He shuffles his feet, checks his phone as he pops his gum, a habit he picked up after Che left. His mother hates it. It soothes him and his breath is always smelling minty so he isn’t going to stop any time soon. He is an adult now after all (seventeen in his eyes is adult, okay.) The door suddenly opens and it’s the girl he saw with them, she can’t be more than seven years old. Dimitri didn’t expect anyone to actually open the door and, if so maybe the maid or something but it’s her. He doesn’t know what to do – maybe this is how Che felt that day, suddenly shell shocked and floundering for a coherent thought. “Hello,” she greets politely. They have the same eyes, Dimitri notes. He feels nauseous.

Footsteps grow louder, “Arden what did I tell you about opening the door –“but it’s in Korean so Dimitri doesn’t know that is what she’s saying, all he hears is a voice that faintly sounds familiar; the woman stops short and Dimitri recognizes her now that he’s seen her face to face, every time he sees them Dimitri has tunnel vision on Che and it didn’t click in his mind until now. How wild is it that Che’s wife is old one time nanny? Dimitri is confused, she was nice as far as he can recall, a little edgy since the language barrier but they worked through it, she could say ‘come eat dinner Dimitri’ and ‘finish your homework and we can play all the video games in the world you want’ in perfect English.

The little girl – Arden Dimitri has learned, stares at him with childhood curiosity, the same one maybe Dimitri had but the woman’s voice – Daisie -- it’s all coming back to Dimitri now – pulls him from his thoughts.

“He’s not home right now,” she says flatly and closes the door.

Not the slam Dimitri assumes she wanted to do. He saw how her skin went tight against her knuckles, she was squeezing the door. Can’t be rude in front of Arden, it’ll stir up questions she doesn’t want to answer.  

He’ll try another week then.

Joe and Marta are at some charity gala and Dimitri is at home, years ago he would have been playing Fortnite or out at the park with his friends and teammates. But he’s staring at a textbook, Joe wasn’t pleased with his SAT score and he’s going to retake it and all the words and numbers are beginning to blend together and give him a migraine. He could drink coffee or he could take some Adderall. He talked the doctor who gives Marta her Xanax to give him a prescription, all the college kids use it anyways. He’s still debating when his phone pings, having turned it on loud since he was taking a break from studying. Joe and Marta are going to an after party for a nightcap. Dimitri isn’t surprised. Wanting to clear his head he grabs his jacket and keys. A walk will clear his head and he’ll probably get home before his parents do so it’s harmless. It’s not on purpose, his footsteps lead him back to The Ryu Residence.

His old nanny – Daisie, Dimitri remembers. Stands outside out puffing away on a cigarette, he has his own between his lips and chuckles inwardly. Dimitri learned after that day, he went to Che’s Wikipedia page and saw the ‘personal life’ tab that went on and on about their origins and the birth of their daughter and all it did was make him question things more but he won’t interview her. He does offer a small wave, she can’t close the door in his face from behind a fence.

“I told him I quit a while ago,” she says in lieu of a greeting before inhaling.

“It's fine, I’m good at keeping secrets.”

Daisie stares at Dimitri for a second, her eyes are familiar but the look on her face he can’t remember from eight years ago. She finally cuts her eyes away from him, ashing her cigarette before taking another pull, the corners of her lips raising in what he thinks is a smirk. “I know you are,” Dimitri remembers the games they would play, she turned the house into a scavenger hunt one time, it was so fun Dimitri recalls. He wonders if she did the same for Arden. “Are you a little bit young to be smoking anyways?” She points her own cigarette at the one burning between his fingers and he taps the ash off. Smokers mirror each other Dimitri has learned since he’s picked up the habit. “I’m seventeen.” ‘But you probably already knew that’ Dimitri thinks wryly. He has decided he likes this version of Daisie, reminiscent of the nanny he once knew. Quick wit and pretty eyes. Arden sure lucked out with this one. Daisie pushes her behind her ear and Dimitri feels horrified with himself after he swoons, what the fuck. She’s twisting the rings around her fingers as she swallows, mustering up the words to travel out of her gut. “He’s inside, with Arden.” Dimitri doesn’t know how to process this. “Won’t he notice you’ve been outside for a while now?” His smoke as gone out and he’s left with a filter to flick into her front step but the look Daisie sends Dimitri crouch down and pick it back up. Must be a mom thing. “I’m in the blind spot,” she motions to the cameras, “but you aren’t.”

Panic begins to rise in Dimitri and Daisie muse sense it, “relax, he doesn’t play with Arden in the security room. So no, he isn’t staring at you right now attempting to liter on his front step.”

Dimitri begins to move forward, like he didn’t mean to stop in front of their house, “I gotta get going anyways.” He has to beat his parents home and being out has stirred up an appetite. “Thanks for having a smoke with me,” she says, it’s almost musical her tone, and Dimitri actually believes she enjoyed standing in the cold with him, trading second-hand smoke.

He’s home and sitting back in front of his prep book and sighs, Dimitri wonders what life would be like if he was in Arden’s shoes, correct mother and father.

Dimitri cries about it in the shower. Lying in bed afterward he hears his door creak open, Dimitri pretends to be asleep as his mother caresses his hair, the side of his face and neck. “You look so much like him when you’re asleep.” She whispers, unbeknownst to the fact that Dimitri isn’t actually sleeping. She leaves and Dimitri’s face is a vivid red, pillow in his mouth as he tries to stop from screaming.

Marta does this every night.

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reticencetm‌.

   “ you didn’t kill anyone? great, gold star for you! please note the sarcasm. and for the record, just because you gave a back rub doesn’t mean she actually enjoyed it. ”

“ my hands are big and she’s pregnant sooo i think she uh -- enjoyed it. it is my fault her back hurts after all. it takes two to tango, aye. what did you do today to earn a bomb ass blt? ”

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reticencetm‌.

    “ that depends. what have you done today to deserve one? ”

        “ i didn’t kill anyone, i gave my girlfriend a back rub.” 

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reticencetm‌.

  “ can’t beat a classic blt. extra b. provolone, mayonnaise, toasted bread. or sharp cheddar, if that’s more to your taste. ”  

     “ all sandwiches are my taste, within reason, that one fits the bill. did you buy me one as well?  ”

[cokebloated-blog]

reticencetm‌.

        “ sandwiches are comfort food. ”

      “ yes, they are.”

[cokebloated-blog]

Buying things is easy, it's too easy to just swipe a card and keep it going. 

But he didn't want to buy just anything, he could have but he put some thought into it, he didn't want to do something flashy. Flashy has never been her style and he's okay with that, he's adjusted to that. It's a big part of making a relationship (official or not) work well together is an adjustment, meshing - he's playing with her cards instead of holding his own and peeking over the top of her's in her hand. Waiting for her on her nightstand to see when she wakes up is the handwritten poem in a frame, it's a nice deep silver, faint grooving around the finish with the inner frame pipped in black.

What waits for Daisie under the tree is what took a bit more thinking on his end, nothing flashy flashy but nothing cheap either. Frugal but meaningful, it wasn't as hard as a materialistic and shallow spender like Che thought it would be. There are many gift boxes wrapped in paper and ribbon and topped with a bow. One contains a purse, black, other minimal colors but girls always need purses right? Heck, purses, fanny pack looking bags - all the wave right now. Another gift is a t-shirt, now yes, it's not t-shirt weather and based on the shirt, he's a few months too late to be giving this to Daisie but he saw it, thought it was cool and thought, 'what the heck.'

You can take the flashy from the boy but you can’t take the boy from the flashy. In a tiny ring box - wrapped in paper and topped with a bow, put into a gift bag is something Chester whipped up himself — as in a guy he went to high school with was a jeweler now and Chester had him whip up something. Chester likes it, he thinks Daisie will like it as well, hopefully, she will.

Waking up in the morning is now something that Daisie is grateful for. Knowing that she is home, and safe, she is grateful to wake up this way. Even more so on christmas day. A day, not so long ago, she wasn’t sure she’d live to see. Despite it being cold, the sun flits in through the semi-open blinds, seeps in and warms her skin. Daisie blinks open her eyes to rumples shadow cast across her room. Or was it their room now? She doesn’t stop to think. Slender arms reaching up towards a stretch of sky she can’t see but knows is there. It’s routine now. Stretch every morning, roll over and snuggle against chesters side. She likes the way she can fit under his arm like a puzzle piece. She’s been waking up before her alarms lately. Mainly because she’s been so hungry and her stomach never seems to shut up but that tends to happen when you’re eating for two.     When the alarm finally does ring, she turns to switch it off. That’s when she sees what she assumes was gift number one. Or maybe gift number one was laying in bed beside her and this was gift number two? Either way she can’t stop the smile that spills across her lips. Its just what she asked for. Literally. She’d told him she’d wanted it framed and there it sits in the prettiest frame she’s ever seen. Daisie picks it up, reads it out and laughs. She smiles so much her cheeks hurt. It’s the little things that gets her. Sentimental value, she thinks means more than materialistic values.                                          

 ***     

Sat cross-legged in front of the tree Daisie opens her gifts eagerly, like a child. And she loves every single one of them. She proves this by peeling away the grey t-shirt she had been wearing (that read ‘mommy’ across the front) and replacing it with the Scorpio slogan shirt, as well as slinging the strap of the bag across her body and of course, the ring on her finger. But when her gifts are done it’s time for her to give him his. And suddenly the nerves are back and she’s wondering if she should. She decides to go with something easy first. A neatly wrapped parcel, complete with a box and a tag with his name written in neat cursive black ink. Inside is a folded shirt. Grey. Eerily similar to the one she had been wearing just moments ago, only it reads ‘daddy’ and it’s one hint of the many she’s been dropping. Moving onto her knees she passes him the parcel and waits for him to tear through the wrapping, gaze locked on his expression.

He's glad she seems happy with the frame, Chester is trying to prioritize sentimental over material, hopefully, he's begun to get the hang of it. Chester enjoys the short moment of her changing shirts, taking note of how the material stretches across her chest (since when did she have boobs? He first noticed it in Florida, not that he's complaining) and, his gaze shifts to the 'mommy' shirt she discarded and chuckles, it looked cute on her (he would call her mommy if she asked, wouldn't be the first time he's said the words in a moment of lust.) "Thank youuuuu" he chimes as he takes the gift Daisie has handed to him. Chester has never been a careful opener, he loves the sound of wrapping paper ripping and he tears at it quickly like a child. Opening the box he laughs as he sees the shirt. It matches his and he's got this warmth that settles in his chest, Chester doesn't know why matching things just gets to him. Maybe its because he wants them to be a solid unit, blame it on his militarist dad or Chester's need for a real family, the one he's found in Daisie. "Are you gonna start calling me daddy now?" He teases with a wink sent her way.

For the first few moments, she’s unsure as to whether or not he’s realized, but he seems to be slow in putting the pieces of the puzzle together. Not to worry, she has more hints and tricks up her sleeve. Perhaps she’s more like her brother than she thought. That’s another thing she’ll have to talk about eventually. But not now. “Yes, “ she answers without hesitation, but pauses to lean close and deliver a neat peck to the corner of his mouth “Daddy.” she smiles but not for the same reasons he does. Swiveling in the spot she reaches back under the tree and produces yet another box, this one much smaller than the first. The contents? A watch. Carefully picked, engraved on the inside. Sure he had a thousand watches, but none from her. She figures he’ll need it anyway. Babies were all about timekeeping. She sets the box in his lap and then reaches for another, but keeps it in hers instead, waiting for him to open the first. “Will you wear the shirt oppa?” perhaps not right away but before she gave the last present she wanted him to be wearing it. “See if it fits or something”

She only has to say it once and Chester is stripping his own shirt off to put on his new gifted shirt. Doing a stupid shimmy he coos at Daisie. "Who's ya daddy? I'm yo daddy." One peck isn't enough and he catches her lips with his. "I love it, thank you." The watch is so nice, his thumb brushes against the engraving, he doesn't understand it but it's the thought that counts. "July?" They were basically official in July without saying it and the gift takes on an, even more, deeper meaning and he kisses her cheek. "You're sucha sap, this one." Of course, he puts the watch on a second later and looks at his wrist. He loves it. "What's in that?" It's big and he's curious to see what's inside. "Is that for me?" What else could she give him?

"you're an idiot" but they both know that, and she says it in the most endearing way, because he's not just any old idiot, he's her idiot. She enjoys watching him fiddle with his gifts, if she were made of money she'd buy him anything and everything he wanted. Designer tracksuits, supercars, gold chains, but she isn't made of money, and she thinks that what she's giving him means just a little bit more than any of that stuff. "It's something... special" she seems nervous now. Her stomach turns and she's sure she's going to be sick but she holds out. Gulps and slides the box towards him. "really special" she has both her hands on her tummy, it's small but growing. And it's not just fat. "Open it, but be careful of your face" she says with a small smile, laughing nervously to cover the grumble of her tummy. She knows the moment he opens it a dozen balloons both pink and blue would rise up and out and sit at the ceiling until he got them down.

"Special eh?" He inspects the box carefully, snorting at her warning. "My face, there isn't something that will poke my eye out will it? My face is my money maker ya know." He opens the box and the balloons pull a laugh from him as they float up to the ceiling, Rumple jumping to try and catch them. Chester sees the baby stuff and his heart begins to beat faster, is Daisie being serious about this? He glances at her before looking down again at the smaller box. "A gift within a gift?" He questions with a nervous chuckle, the tips of his ears have begun to warm, tinting pink with his cheeks.

This isn't the exact response she had pictured, but still, the show must go on. From behind her she produces a bow, peels her shirt up just enough to place it on her tummy before laughing. Nervous still. she can't help herself. "Aren't you going to open it?" he seemed oh-so-eager to open the others that the hesitation makes her head spin. Maybe it's just the morning sickness. Leaning down she retrieves the long but narrow box and pulls off the lid to reveal the pregnancy test inside. She'd taken it for him rather than for herself seeing as she'd found out at the hospital. "two lines" she says, pointing at the indicator even though it reads 'pregnant' beside it anyway.

He doesn't even realize he's tearing up until he blinks the heaviness from his eyes and the tears roll down his cheeks. Daisie is pregnant, Daisie, Kim Daisie, Daisie Kim. Chester's Daisie is pregnant, with his child. He lets out a watery laugh and leans over to smooth his hands over her hair to let it rest above her neck. "Two lines," he repeats, brushing his noses against hers. "Daisie I --" he can't find the words, fear, and happiness hitting at once, it's a confusing cocktail of emotions but he's prepared to deal with it. "You're -- /we're/ --" he can't get the words out so he kisses her instead.

This is more like it. Is it sort of sick to say that she likes that he's crying right now? Well, she does. It makes her smile until she can feel her throat drying. And then her eyes sting and then she's crying too. Damn it. She didn't want to cry too. She blames it on the hormones. She also feels like a huge weight has been lifted off her shoulders. Shouldn't she be happy? She can't tell. "pregnant." she mumbles with a shy nod, her arms kept down by her side, she's left the best for last. He may have gotten her a ring, but she'd gotten him one too. But it's not just a ring. It's a promise. Shaking fingers present it to him. She clears her throat and steadies herself.  "let's do it properly" she pauses, sniffles and takes his hand whether he likes it or not. "be mine."

So she's really pregnant, Chester and Daisie are pregnant because he's all in for this. The throwing up in Florida suddenly makes sense, her body has been changing slowly before his eyes and now he knows its to help their baby -- oh gosh, their baby. They have a baby. "Yours," he says immediately, he'll look at the ring after he wipes the tears that run down her cheeks. "I'm yours."

She slides it along his finger, glad it fits and bushes it to sit at the base where she hopes it will stay forever. With the back of her hand, she wipes at her own face too, and then with her thumb across his. She feels silly, so she laughs, turns and points at the flashing red light coming from the tree. Not that it seems odd, there are many flashing lights coming from the tree but upon closer inspection, he'd see the camera lens peeking at him. "Don't worry you're not being PUNK'd" she'd just wanted to have it forever

"Where is Ashton?" Chester jokes. He laces their fingers together, seeing his ring near her ring, he kisses the back her hand. "How far are you?" He asks curiously, "is that why you didn't want to drink in Florida?" It all makes sense now. "I love you so much Daisie, I hope you know that. And I already love our baby so much." His hand hovers above her stomach and he looks to her for permission to touch.

[cokebloated-blog]

continued from here.

When the day begins to draw to an end we tend to become lazier. Tired, clumsy and absent-minded. We’re only human after all. After a busy day, we long for the warmth of our homes, the love of our families, the promise that there is some softness in this cold hard world we live in. Of course, for most people, that promise gets fulfilled, but it seems Daisie isn’t most people. Her home is not warm and cozy, but upturned, ransacked, tarnished with the memory of a trauma she’s not sure she’s processed yet. Her family sits divided, her love estranged, her support system crumbling. No promise of anything sitting around the corner. And when everyone goes home at the end of the day she sleeps stiff in a hospital bed surrounded by the smell of hospital grade disinfectant and the incessant beeping of machinery. The worst thing? She’s been here before.

    They could be such dreary places.

All that white and for what? Drab was all she could see and hear and touch in sterile absence. Maybe hospitals weren’t as clean as they thought they were, that is of course if they could think at all. Waking up to the same scene every time makes her wonder if she even wants to wake up at all. Tired eyes attempt to blink away the lethargy in her face but to no avail. Nothing’s changed. The flowers her mother had brought still sit on the bedside cabinet, reminding her to grow despite feeling as if she’d been torn from the ground at the roots. By the door sits an overweight police officer, slouched over in the chair provided, a baton across his lap, hat partially tilted over his face.

When the door to her room creaks open he snaps upright. Rubs a fist against his eyes and offers a meek grin to the nurse who checks the chart at the end of Daisie's bed. She goes about her duties in a professional manner, but when she’s done she sits at the edge of Daisie's bed, smiles like the sun and produces a pot of jelly from the pocket of her scrubs. “For peanut” but Daisie already knows. She sets the pot down beside Daisie and rises to her feet. “I’ll see you tomorrow petal,” she says all smiles whilst flicking off the light. And then she’s gone again allowing for Mr podgey in the corner to slouch back down and watch the clock tick down the minutes until he can leave too. Daisie does the same for what feels like forever until the door creaks open again, but this isn’t a part of the same routine.

Stood in the doorway, haloed by the light in the hall stands a man. But he doesn’t stay that way for long. He is no angel. He has no halo. She recognizes him for who he is..  “O-” she chokes, a sharp pain in her ribs. With a grimace she tries again “officer--” this time there’s an urgency to her voice, but he doesn’t look up until it’s too late. Doesn’t look up until Woojin has his fingers curled around the baton. With the force of ten men (thanks to the adrenaline running through his veins), he strikes the police officer around the head. That’s all it takes for him to slip into unconsciousness, and all Daisie can do is watch, until he turns to face her. Malice in his face, this boy is filled with cruel intentions.

Unbeknownst to either of them, a knight in shining armor approaches accompanied by a plump woman somewhere in her forties. Once upon a time, she would have had a passion for her job, but now she just goes through the motions. Someone gets sick, she tends to them. She doesn’t care like she used to. The world has made her hard. She stops a few steps shy of the room “next time you make the payment in full.” she states, glancing down at the watch attached to her front pocket. “You’ll have a couple of hours until one of the nurses come in to check on her.”  The conversation continues, whilst struggle ensues within the room.

Woojin drops the baton to the ground, it lands with a dull thud and rolls until it hits the body of the officer out cold on the floor. He decides he’ll prefer to use his hands. He’s dreamt about it before, closing his hands around the column of her throat, and squeezing until the life left her eyes. Daisie kicks the sheets off her and manages somehow to slip off the bed and stand albeit wobbly on her feet. But there’s only one way in, one way out, and before she’s able to figure out what to do he forces her down onto the bed. Every bone in her body aches, she opens her mouth but he clamps a hand over it to silence her. In moments he uses his other to squeeze at her neck lightly for a few moments until he clambers over her, sits across her waist and pins her down fully. Beneath him she lay struggling, hands reaching up frantically in an attempt to pinch, scratch, hit anything that she could reach, but his iron-tight grip only gets tighter. Her movements slow, and he begins to cackle. He thinks he’s won. She does too.

This isn’t what Che expected to see when he opens the door. He couldn’t figure out for a second: knock or open. But then he remembered he loves the look of surprise on her face so he opens the door. This isn’t what Che expected to see. “Hey!” He says loud enough to hopefully alert someone, the cop out cold on the floor is useless. He gains the attention of Woojin and they meet eyes. Che sees his hands around Daisie’s neck; fight or flight? He picks fight. Throwing the grapes at Daisie’s assailant he misses his mark - he was aiming for his head. He hurls the cup second and it lands, multi-colored ice sliding down his face and staining his shirt. Just in time. His grip eases up in the slightest allowing for that breath she was so desperately struggling for. Somewhere above her head, the pillow sinks down. She doesn't know it yet but there's a bunch of grapes there now. The voice is familiar but she can't quite grasp who it is not in the heat of it all. Not until Woojin leans back and suddenly she's wet. There's panic in her face. Was that blood? No. It's cold it can't be. He turns his attention to Chester leaving Daisie choking, gasping to get her breath back. Woojin picks the baton from the floor and brandishes it, swinging it at Chester with rage in his eyes. He's always getting in the way.

For once Chester’s height isn’t only good for just reaching for things on the top shelf. Chester leans back, narrowly missing the baton taking his chin out and yells out again, why is hospital security so shitty around here? He’s not about to sword fight with some lunatic and punches him square in the face. If he wasn’t keyed up on adrenaline, Chester’s fist would really hurt right now, but it doesn’t. 

That same rage that Woojin has? 

Chester holds inside, it’s the driving force behind his fist colliding with Woojin’s face again. Finally, the piece of shit hits the floor but it’s not enough. Giving him a taste of his own medicine, Chester pins Woojin, his heavy body sitting across Woojin’s waist as he punches him over and over. Even when Woojin can clearly not defend himself, Chester tugs him up by the collar of his shirt to punch him again, his nose splattering blood onto Chester’s fist, it’s swollen and crooked from Chester breaking it. He could punch Woojin all damn day. She doesn't know why her eyes are wet but they are, and dangerously close to overflowing too. She can't bring herself to do much else than sit up slightly, gown damp from the slushee remnants. She watches with her mouth agape. Without a weapon, woojin doesn't stand much of a chance against Chester.  But he takes the beating like a champ, smiling at him through bloody teeth, until his nose cracks.  He swings at Chester, but barely grazes the line of his jaw. Security finally makes their entrance, pulling Chester back at first. Before restraining Woojin, covered in blood but still smiling. Always smiling. 

This isn't over.

Chester resisted when he got arrested and he’s resisting now, trying to fight out of their grasp, he does for a second lurching at Woojin but more security come to hold him back, he’s a big guy after all. “I’ll fucking kill you!” Chester bellows, he repeats himself as he dragged out of the room, shoes skidding black marks on the floor. “Let me go,” he demands, trying to yank himself free. 

Soon it's not just Security, it's nurses and doctors to all flooding into the room, and the only person Daisie wants to stay is being dragged away. Slipping off the bed she uses what strength she has to push past a nurse blocking the door and slaps at the guards hands around Chester "leave him alone," it's supposed to be instructive, firm, but it's more of a broken plead between heaved sobs that hurt her chest. She doesn't stop. Not until the guard eases up on Chester, but there's still another holding tight around his arm. With a shaking hand, she cups his face "are you okay?" She asks between the commotion, not caring to glance back at Woojin. “I’m... are you —“ he sees the bruising from Woojin’s hands around her neck and Chester’s rage lights up all over again. God, if he could kill a man with his bare hands he would. “Are you okay? He hurt you —“ Chester can’t do much with Daisie in front of him and security separating them from Woojin. “I...” his forehead is sweaty but he rests it against hers. She looks so small and frail in a hospital gown. “I’m okay.” He whispers for only Daisie to hear. “I’m okay now.” He turns in against her hand, reveling in her touch. 

“I’m okay.”

She nods because she doesn't want to worry him any more than she already has. She can see it on his face, hear it in his voice. Shuffling forwards closer she drops her hand from his cheek and sneaks her arms around his middle, face buried somewhere in the fabric of his shirt. Despite the circumstances it's nice, she'd never thought she'd have this again but there they stand as the storm settles. Finally, the security guard lets go of Chester’s arm and he’s wrapping both of them around Daisie, pressing his cheek on the top of her head. He breathes out a sob, the idea of losing her like this scares him so much. He wouldn’t know what to do with himself. It feels so good to have her this close, she’s anchoring him so his anger doesn’t let him fly. Daisie is the calming sand that stamps out his fire. He breathes her in and doesn’t let go.

"Miss Kim" one of the nurses calls firmly, making their way from the room to stand before the pair. "You'll need to get back in bed please" despite the please it isn't a request it's an instruction. But daisie doesn't want to let go, she doesn't want to move at all not until there's a hand placed on her shoulder to peel her away from Chester. As she turns she faces woojin being held up by two guards each of his arms around their necks, he stands sandwiched between them. Her heart sinks into her stomach when he winks at her, even more so when he spits a mouth full of blood towards Chester, but she stays stood in front of him to keep him grounded. "Not here" she whispers quietly to him.

Chester pants heavily until Woojin spits blood at him and he's growling, ready to rip that son of a bitch apart. Chester's whole body moves with every inhale and exhale that leaves him. If Daisie wasn't in-between them he would try again. He wants to rip his eyes out of his face for winking at Daisie, Chester remembers the crazy smirk on Woojin's face as he punched him over and over, he wants to rip his lips off. He could have kept punching him. His fists are bloodied, skin hanging off of his knuckles and it's nothing he's not used to. 

Once he's out of sight the nurse ushers Daisie back into the room, but not without her dragging Chester behind her by the wrist. She doesn't want to hurt his hands, doesn't even want to look at the red that coats them. "Sorry you can't bring him here," she says nodding towards Chester with a raised brow. "Please" daisie mumbles "for peanut" she speaks even quieter and the nurse sighs, shutting the door behind them so that only the three remain in the room. The nurse helps daisie back into the bed and examines her slowly. A silence fills the room and she's uncomfortable. "I'm fine" she lifts a finger and points it to Che "check his hands.”

"I'm fine too." He doesn't look at the blood on the floor from when he got Woojin on his back. "Really..." but the nurse takes his hands and inspects them. It's a hospital so of course, they have what they need in the room for her to clean up and wrap his hands. Blood still steeps through the gauze and she wraps more around his fists until you can't see it. "Thank you," he says quietly. He didn't mind it but he didn't want to worry Daisie. The bruises from security restraining him will fade with time, just like the bruises around Daisie's neck and along her body. "I came as soon as your mother called me." He explains to Daisie since he didn't get the chance to do that earlier. 

A single cleaner makes their way into the room midway through Chester getting his hand bandaged up and cleans away the blood on the floor until there's not a trace of it left. When they leave the nurse sighs and stands. "What happened?" She's just as confused as everyone else. Daisie shrugs but she wishes she hadn't. "I don't know" there's a pause and then she has her hand outstretched for Chester, the one the nurse isn't fussing with at least. "He saved me."

'He saved me' Chester doesn't feel like a hero, he feels like a fool, shame pushes his stomach up and up and up and he dashing off to the in-room toilet and he lets it out, heaving as he throat burns and his nose begins to run. He coughs more until there is none left and he wipes at his lips with the back of his hand before going to the sink to rinse his mouth out as best. "Sorry about that, it kinda just hit me and I couldn't stop it." Chester apologizes once he's back out.  Hopefully, a nurse would be understanding of his reaction. 

This is normal. So the nurse doesn't up sticks and follow him into the bathroom and she coaxes daisie to do the same. She has to hook her back up to the heart monitor anyway. By the time Chester emerges without the contents of his stomach, she's all ready. Laid out in bed as if she'd never left it in the first place. "Will you be staying the night sir?" She asks but knows full well his name. Daisie nods for him, shifts over as much as she can and pats the space beside her. Daisie has already answered for him with her scooting over for him to sit with her but he still speaks anyways. "Yeah, I'll stick around." He doesn't want to leave Daisie alone, not after that. He walks over the hospital bed and slips his shoes off and sits down in the spot. "Hi," he says quietly as he looks at Daisie, with a small smile on his face for the first time since he's gotten there.

That's all it takes. A small nod and the nurse is backing out of the room to give them some privacy. Daisie shifts closer and eventually leans over to reach for the jello she'd been left earlier and peels the lid off only to offer it to him. He needs it more than her. He's in shock. At least she thinks he is. "Can you eat for me?" She asks as soft as she can muster, eyes pink from having cried. She just wants to exist in his presence. No words. Just breathe. It'll be good for him to get the taste out of his mouth, it's mostly gone but the faint tang of nastiness lingers and he nods, moving his arm from around her shoulders to squeeze the cup of jello into his mouth, its loads better than vomit. He doesn't know what to say after he swallows. Jello is good though, even if he's not actually hungry. He can't deny Daisie.

When he's done she takes the empty pot, leans across him and discards it before settling against him again. She likes this. Being close. "I'm sorry I couldn't make it to the party" she can't think of anything else to say. She doesn't want to recall what happened. Not right now, she's tired of people asking her. "Will you forgive me?" She already knows he will but she's asking anyway, her hands moving to hold his ever so gently. "Do they hurt?" She asks shifting attention to him and keeping it there. "Don't worry, I put your birthday cake in the freezer." He was upset originally but that feeling is long gone, happy to be close to Daisie again like this he brings her closer to his side if it is even possible. When she takes his hands he looks at them in hers, finally noticing the size difference. When they met her presence eclipsed her stature, but now seeing her tiny and frail is eye-opening to her many sides. "Nope, they don't." But they will eventually when it finally sets in what happened, the throwing up was stage one, stage two will be the pain. He kisses the top of her head.

The mention of her birthday makes her frown. She'd missed it entirely. Halloween too. Seems there were no treats this year. Just a trick. Pushing her lips into a pout she kisses the back of his hands through the gauze before letting them down but keeps her hands atop his. "When they hurt will you tell me?" Despite being frail she still wants to care for him. Always has. Always will. Her eyes fall shut soon after, resting fully against him, keeping him close as close can be. She feels small beside him. Safe. But she always has done. "Yeah, I will." He looks at their hands as she rests against him, he stays still not to disturb her and he replays the entire day in his mind and it still feels like some type of nightmare or prank gone completely wrong. "I love you so much," he murmurs. "I'll never let anyone hurt you ever again."

The monitor beeps just a tiny little bit faster with his confession. She coughs a little to cover it up, regrets doing so immediately after. She's not used to everything hurting from the most mundane activities. Hopes she never has to get used to it either. "Do you promise?" It's a big thing to promise, she doesn't expect him to but she wants him to. "Yes." He answers immediately. This was an eye opener for him to stop fucking around and be serious about this - not that he wasn't serious about getting Daisie back but now he's even more determined to make things better for them. He makes a mental note to change her room to something more private, get his own security detail around - plain-clothed, no cops. "I promise you, Daisie Kim. I'll protect you forever."

Somewhere along the lines of him speaking she hooks her pinky finger around his and pushes her thumb to his thumb in a promise. "Forever?" She repeats soft, voice just above a whisper. This is probably the most she's spoken since the incident. Swallowing Daisie tilts her head back and leans up to push her lips to his. Something she had thought she'd never get to do again. She doesn't mean to cry but her cheeks are wet. Maybe she's just overwhelmed, either way, she doesn't stop. The moment calls for it. Thumb to thumb he kisses her back, the transfer of her tears on her cheeks to his just makes him kiss her harder. He's always loved it when she cries, can't put his finger on it but her vulnerability warms him inside, like drinking the finest liquor on the planet. "Forever."

When he stops to speak she keeps close, eyes closed lips millimeters from his. This is how she remembers happiness. She delivers a final peck before shifting down to lay her head across his chest again. Every other visit she'd made to the hospital for whatever reason she's always found it hard to sleep. She thinks now if she tried she could do so just fine. But she doesn't want to sleep. Not just yet. Because for now they're victorious and despite not wanting to think bad thoughts she can't help but wonder how long for.

[cokebloated-blog]

cverture‌:

cverture-a‌:

You’ll always be machismos to me! (whiskeyspecs (part 2), @feralglory, was there more?)

CAN YOU BELIEVE IT’S BEEN TWO YEARS? 

I don’t remember the exact context of how we first met (was it that plot with Cathy that we never got far on because Kate and Henry consumed our lives???) but I do know how happy I am that even when we disappear off of the face of the planet, we always seem to find each other! I also know that we will never let that happen again because now we have more than Tumblr to fall back on!

*cue the Golden Girls theme song* Thank you for being a great friend over these past couple of years and for understanding my weird quirks or when I need to randomly rant/vent about stupid roleplay things. Maybe this year I will finally try Sweet Potato Pie? Because I still haven’t tried it, whoops. I love going back and reading all of our little things, both OOC and IC and I can tell you that I truly cherish our friendship - even if i’m, at times, bad at it.

THREE YEARS!! & I’ve tried sweet potato pie finally. the rest of this holds up!

HAPPY TWO YEARS!!!

[cokebloated-blog]

With Daisie getting better, Che takes it as his duty to do the most important thing to help her recovery. Rumple making an appearance at the hospital was one component but this one is a little bit more… taxing. He stands around her living area, taking in the mess he left to begin to collect dust that day. Broad chest rises and falls with the deep breaths he takes hands on hips. Where to start? The glass, of course, he bought all new cleaning things, a fresh start. He wants to clean up every trace of that Moon bastard in Daisie’s safe haven. He sweeps up all the glass he can find all over the apartment. Next is Rumple’s little area in her bedroom, he gets that tidy and works on the rest of the room. He still remembers how thick the air was between them the first time he stood in there, how electricity was home in her fingertips as they touched. The warm sun on his skin as he made her… this isn’t the time. He cleans up her bedroom, changes the sheets and makes the bed. All the usual things she wants him to fix he take cares of.

It’s the blood that really fucks him up. He doesn’t know who it belongs to as he wipes it away furiously, having dried in their absence. He hasn’t done any of his usual routines since finding out Daisie was hurt, it was hospital all the time unless he was going home to change his clothes and nowadays he just packs enough to change at the hospital and a neck pillow, he's developed a kink in his neck sleeping sitting up in the chair next to the hospital bed. It’s worth it though, he’d live with a kink in his neck and never get his back fixed if it means she never has to suffer again.

Pausing he sits on the couch with a heavy sigh, his knuckles are finally showing signs of healing, having ditched the gauze weeks ago, his knuckles are an ugly yellow, tints of red mellowing out, he’s already picked the scabs off, new skin growing there reluctantly, All he could see is red that day, fist driven but the fear of losing Daisie, the anger at himself for letting it get that deep. Punching that grinning mug into the floor over and over was some type of therapy, his self-penitence for being one of the worst humans in the world in 2018 and it takes a lot to do that. He was never this hard on himself before, Chester never had anything to care about other than himself so he wasn’t his biggest critic; being in love means checking over every action you to make sure it doesn’t hurt them, it’s not all about you anymore. Peering down at his hands he pushes out another sigh and gets back up.

Chester assumes Daisie will want to try and get things back to normal. So first thing is to de…Halloween the place. Halloween as passed now and he doesn’t want her staring at the orange and black reminders of what she missed out on. It shouldn’t even count since she wasn’t involved. He takes down all the decorations and hunts down some red and green. Strings lights around the perimeter of the tiny apartment, the new color already pushes in new life. Putting the past behind. He isn’t done yet, set up with an automatic feeder, is a decent sized Christmas tree propped in the corner – not decorated yet, that’s for them to do together and when it’s all done, he gives the place a good look. Gone are the traces of Woojin and the damaged he caused, the damaged Che caused is gone too – he thinks.

He hopes.

[cokebloated-blog]

this for grown folk only, seci tiemz ahead

He knows he looks weird, in his Halloween costume armed with large objects. But SNU hospital knows Chester by know and how eccentric he is and pays no mind. Everyone on the floor knows he loves Daisie, it doesn’t hurt that he has their lunch catered too, all shifts. He stops by the nurse’s station and grins, he’s even wearing fangs. “Is my baby awake?” he asks the last nurse he watched take Daisie’s vitals and check her dressing and she shrugs, “she was eating Jell-O the last time I checked on her.” Cool.  Rumple stirs as Che walks away from the station. The private suite Chester got Daisie with her mother’s permission was usually reserved for chaebol or pregnant celebrities but Chester was adamant she was moved for her protection, the police and hospital security said they would keep her save but Chester is and was so damn paranoid about that woo cunt that he had hired his own security, plain clothes to make it less obvious and for everyone’s comfort. He dismisses them when he walks up, they need a break, sitting around waiting for excitement can get boring after a while, Chester would know. It’s been a year and he still gets nervous before he sees her, the butterflies swoop in and he feels like he’s meeting her for the first time for the ride to the park.

“Housekeeping,” he chirps as a greeting as he walks in. Daisie looks surprised and Chester takes that as a good thing, placing the cake box on the table and Rumple’s kennel on the chair he opens and lets him hop out, he picks him up so he can get on the bed next to Daisie and she immediately begins to cuddle him, cooing as she kisses his head and he loves it, his happy meows can be heard under the noise of the TV. “What’s that?” an Iv’ed hand points to the cake box on the table, “and I can’t believe you really dressed like Blade, I’m so mad I missed it.” She’s pouting and Chester wants to kiss her but he poses instead. “I even brought his –“ he pulls a sword from inside the trench coat and brandishes it a couple time and hisses so she can see his fangs. Chester really wanted Daisie to see his costume for her birthday, he had fake blood and everything but that wasn’t appropriate for the hospital. “You’re gonna get us kicked out of the hospital,” Daisie comments with an amused grin on her lips. Chester shrugs, finally walking over to the side of the bed after taking the coat off, hiding the sword in. “You gonna snitch?” He asks before leaning down to kiss her. “I’ll show you what's in the box later. You wanted a shower to remember?” She nods mutely, biting her lip. “I feel gross, I need to wash my hair,” she whines.

Usually, the nurse helps with clean up and Chester respectfully waits outside the room but Daisie requested that he do it and he wants to anyways. He loves that she needs him, that he can be someone she can lean on and look to for help, reassurance. He’s finally being the boyfriend he’s wanted to be since day one but fucked up doing. “C’mon…” he helps her down from the bed, holding the IV pole as they take slow steps to the in-room bathroom. “I got it –“ she went to try and take her gown off but she’s limited to what she can reach and he unties it, exposing more and more the delicate pale skin of her back. It would be too easy, pressing a kiss to the nape of her neck, inhaling her scent, he's sure she still smells amazing, hospital or not. Chester doesn’t, he folds it and puts it to the side, rolling his sleeves up before turning on the water. He keeps his hand under the stream of water as he takes in Daisie in all her glory, bruises or not she looks gorgeous as ever. “It’s not too hot is it?” He asks with concern as he runs the wet towel along her back. “No, it’s perfect but can you wash my hair first?” She asks softly and he nods. Grabbing the shower head so she doesn’t have to do too much moving he wets her hair slowly before reaching for the shampoo she requested he brings. “You actually brought it,” she whispers, seeing the bottles of body wash she uses at home along with the shampoo he’s currently lathering into her hair. He’s mindful, they're keeping her because that prick hurt her head and they want to subject Chester’s angel to tests and monitoring. When the doctors discuss their plans of action, Chester gets so nervous. Daisie doesn’t deserve any of them.

He massages her scalp slowly, water running down his forearms, Daisie lets out a satisfied sigh, maybe it’s the familiar scent that relaxes her shoulders and lets her slump her back against Che as he washes her hair. He rinses, “when you get out of this prison, do you wanna get your roots done?” Weird question Chester realizes and Daisie doesn’t speak for a moment. “I just want to get back to normal… or our version of it.” He swoons inwardly at the use of the term ‘us’ and nods even if her back is it him. “Gotcha.” He washes her slowly, is it for his own selfish reasons to have more time to touch her? Yes. But he also knows she deserves to be treated gently after everything. Mini spa treatment, Chester makes a mental note to actually take her to a really nice spa. No, well yes but – he’s going to take her on a vacation and while they’re on vacation they will go to a spa and enjoy being pampered. “All done.” He whispers before pressing a kiss to the back of her shoulder after he shuts the water off. He moves enough for her to get up and he wraps a towel around her to begin to dry her off, this is really nice; being Daisie’s caretaker. He helps her step into fresh panties and helps her put her hospital gown back on and rolls the IV pole as he lets her dry her own hair with the towel. Rumple sits in one of the chairs, looking at the TV in rapt fascination.

Daisie’s hair is still wet as she gets back into bed – with Chester’s help, of course, he’s been helping this entire time and she’s grateful for him. “Come up,” she beckons him with the hand that doesn’t have an IV in it. And he slips his shoes off and takes his shirt off, it’s a button up anyways and he has a t-shirt on underneath it. He slides close to her and smiles down at her, “hi.” Here come the butterflies again. It happens fast and Chester is glad the door is closed. Daisie puts her hand on his cheek and pulls her down for a kiss, they do that, a peck here or there, a hello kiss, a goodbye kiss. But there is intent behind this, he can taste it on her tongue as she practically climbs into his lap. “Woah…” he pants, having to catch his breath, heart pounding in his ears. She continues kissing him though, his cheeks, the line of his jaw, she’s going down his neck when he stops her, “what are you doing? Not that I don’t like it…” He loves it but he wants to know where Daisie’s head is at. “Please,” she says with a slightly desperate edge to her voice.  Moving from sitting partially on his lap she lays on the bed and flips the bottom of the gown up. Daisie takes Chester’s wrist, guiding his hand to between her thighs. “Please.” She repeats. He cups her out of sheer habit, presses the heel of his hand harder against her, feels the moisture soaking dampening the thin material and she whimpers.

“Please.”

Chester looks at Daisie, with her lips smudged red, swollen from being kissed, cheeks the prettiest shade of pink, the quicker blip of her monitor. He can’t say no to her, maybe she knows it and she’s saying please to be polite, maybe she’s keyed up and it’s been so long, too long. He would have fucked her on Halloween, sang happy birthday to her as he stripped her slowly, kissing every inch of her skin he could. But that didn’t happen, and it can’t happen in the hospital no matter how much he wants it to now but he can give her this. “Bet you been missin’ me,” Chester mumbles into Daisie as he begins to palm her through her panties, his fingers into the wet cleft, dragging the cloth back and forth over her clit. She makes a soft sound and he’s throbbing in his own pants. “Yes, I missed you so much,” she whispers back, hips squirming from his touch. It’s not enough but it’s enough for right now. Daisie makes these low and desperate and sweet sounds as Chester does what he’s best at, pushing the damp material to the side, he touches her directly and bites back his own moan, she’s steam hot and incredibly wet, his fingers circle her clit easily as she clutches on his shirt for dear life so she doesn’t moan too loud. Chester’s fingers slide lower, he circles her entrance with one finger, tracing slowly, pushing over her but not slipping inside yet, not until Daisie digs her nails into his forearm. “Oppa –“ she feels like silk under his fingertips as he finally relents sliding two fingers so easily into Daisie, into that hot slick velvet, so tight it clings to every curve of his knuckles. Daisie moans into his shoulder, hips twisting. Working Daisie’s clit with his thumb, sinking his fingers deeper and out again, in and out, steady and slow. She can’t stop squirming, pushing hard onto Chester’s hand. Daisie says his name, over and over, faster and faster, half-sobbing has he works her over.

It catches her by surprise, her orgasm washing over her as her whole shudders, legs trembling. Keeping his hand between her thighs, bringing her down slowly, Chester kisses Daisie. It’s all teeth and tongue, he groans into her mouth, he’s so hard and he can feel her pulse thrumming wildly through her clit and he brushes it teasing and she whines. He chuckles, nipping at her lip. “Good?” He asks, almost shy, he doesn’t know why but he wants it to be good for her even if it’s in this annoying hospital bed despite how nice the room actually is. “Good boy,” she purrs and he only gets harder. It’s her turn to palm him through his pants – the one time he isn’t wearing track pants is the time he needs them for easy access. It’s not a problem for Daisie she pulls the zipper down and Chester begins stroking her hair convulsively, “baby you don’t have to –“ it’s not like she does it often and this wasn’t about him, it was about her and her needs. He can jerk off in the bathroom when she’s sleep or something. “I wanna,” she says with determination. Daisie looks so sexy like this, spit shiny swollen lips, lust in her eyes, squeezing him through his underwear and he can’t deny her this. Hell, he can’t deny himself this. She kisses Chester’s dick, just at the head, and then slides her lips down over him, enveloping him in that warm mouth of hers, hand twisting at the base of him, slick with spit. Daisie sucks harder just before she pulls off, tongue lingering around the crown, lower lip dragging a little. This might be over before it can really begin, that’s how turned on Chester is right now.

“I love you,” Chester says, his voice cracking.

Daisie bends her head to suck him in again and Chester wraps his hands in Daisie’s hair, carefully, stroking her scalp, gathering it low at the nape of her neck. He’s mainly doing it to watch her, the way her lips stretch around his girth, a sight that’s going to be burned into his mind forever. Daisie lets off with a slippery, pornographic pop, stroking him. “You’re going to fuck me when we go home right?” She asks, wrist speeding up, twisting at the top. Chester’s broad chest heaves, sweat beginning to pool in the dip of collarbone, his skin shiny from it. “Yeah, yes – god, yes –“ he stammers out, his hips pushing into her fist slightly. “Okay, good.” She bends over and takes him in all the way, the head bumping at the back of her throat and he groans, “Daisie –“ he warns but she doesn’t let up. Chester’s hips jerk uncontrollably. He lets his head fall back and looks at the ceiling until he can’t keep his eyes open. He’s still holding her hair, scratching her scalp lightly. Clearly, she wants him like this and he finally cums with a deep growl in his throat, stomach taut. She swallows it all and it makes him throb but this isn’t the type of place where they can keep going and going like they usually do. Wiping the corner of her lips, Daisie fixes Chester’s pants like it didn’t happen and she situates herself against his side. He’s still catching his breath as he wraps an arm around her shoulders.

Rumple begins to make noise and Chester detangles himself from Daisie and picks the cat up, grabbing Daisie’s robe and a bag of honey chips. “here ya go…” he helps her put her robe on and she’s grabbing for Rumple and the chips at the same time – Che pulls it open for her of course and she begins to eat happily, snuggled into Chester’s side, Rumple curled up between them. It’s like the good days of months ago that he took for granted. He kisses the top of her head as they watch whatever is on TV when the nurse comes in. “Visiting hours is…” she takes in the sight and shakes her head. So many rules are being broken right now but she can’t bring herself to chastise them. “C’mon nurse lady~” Chester pokes his lip out in a pout and she shakes her head, Daisie pinches his side, the nurses love Chester already she doesn’t need him adding fuel to the fire. “Just this one time,” she says. “I’m going to pretend I don’t know he’s here.” He as in Rumple who’s licking himself currently.  And they stay like that for the rest of the night, he’ll show her the birthday cake when her mom comes to visit tomorrow so they can sing happy birthday together to her. “I love you too, you idiot.” Daisie finally says, touching his face again so they can kiss. “I love you.”

[cokebloated-blog]

What started out as embarrassment, chastising himself for thinking a cake and a costume could erase the shit and get her to fall into his arms again has now merged into confusion and worry. Chester knows Daisie doesn’t owe him a damn thing but… for her not to show up to the party when she said she would? She’s a lot of things – she’s human – but she’s loyal. She keeps her word. It’s her birthday on top of that. This isn’t sitting right with him.

Déjà vu. Chester watching the numbers – dimly lit, the super probably doesn’t even care – light with each floor it passes. Chester has stood in this elevator so many times when he was happy when he was mad when they were tangled up in each other without a care of who sees their lips pressed together. But now? He’s standing, watching the light with this dread that is threatening to consume him whole.

His chest feels heavy, his fingers twitch with every second that ticks by and he wrings his hands together to try and stop it as he steps onto her floor. It was originally his own selfish feelings that were hurt, he put so much effort into things to make the party exactly something she would enjoy when it reached one am he didn’t tell anyone about the birthday cake sitting in the other room that would go uneaten.

Her door is open and that doesn’t make him less nervous, it ramps it up. What the hell is going on?

It’s like a scene from a movie, the way the door creaks when he pushes it open. Seeing the mess scattered around the main area, Chester’s face scrunches up as he takes in what he’s seeing. The broken lamp, nothing in its place. He continues into the kitchen and finally gasps at the sight. Broken glass, the dried red color of blood, he swallows, Chester is officially scared. What happened? Obviously something bad.

It’s the faint sounds of Rumple that speeds up Chester’s feet, opening her bedroom door to see him crying at it. He picks him up, stroking his hand down and down his black fur. “Where is your mom hmm?” he coos, “when was the last time you ate?” Rumple keeps crying and Chester finally notices how he’s keeping one of his legs closer to him. He’s injured. “Hold on…” gently, he places Rumple onto the bed and goes back out, he knows where the cat food is kept, and he’s fed Rumple countless times before this is nothing new. Rumple eats like he hasn’t eaten in days, he probably hasn’t.

The sounds of his pulse thumping in his ears mixed with the enthusiastic eating Rumple is doing sounds foreign to Chester as he sits on the bed. Sighing he looks around and finally sees it. “Did you know about this?” He asks Rumple, who is too engrossed his food to give him a response and Chester gets up to get a closer look. What has Daisie been up to? He looks at it all, newspaper clippings, police reports, mug shots. Her familiar scrawl on pieces of paper tacked up with her words. He follows the red string, trying to understand it all. He stops when he sees it: a photo of them, not taken by neither one of them.

Taking a step forward to read more his foot bumps into something, he glances down and it’s a journal. Bending over he picks it up and opens it to the first page, she’s not here and he wouldn’t invade her privacy like that – jerking off in her bed and fixing her light bulbs is not the same as reading her journal but desperate times calls for desperate measures. As the pages turn, so does his paranoia.

‘I think I’m being followed.’

Well… Chester flounders for a moment, putting her journal on her nightstand before sitting back down on the bed, Rumple isn’t crying anymore but, he looks like he wants more food. Chester does just that. How could he had been so blind? He vaguely remembers being coked out of his mind, submerged in his own head that he didn’t realize she needed him. His face scrunches up again and he stands up, digging his nails into the palms of his hands, balled in fists. The skin of his knuckles still split open and dark red from his new hobby. Pacing back and forth, the glint from the Halloween lights reflect off of something and he follows and what he sees makes his heart drop to the bottom of the building. Wanting to give everything he had to Daisie, there wasn’t a time when he wasn’t lavishing her with jewelry, he enjoys spending money and he enjoys giving her things. He remembers when he gave her this, he crouches down, tentative fingers wrapping out the broken choker. He remembers putting it on her, kissing the nape of her neck, nosing behind her ear as he took in her scent. Not to be cliché but, Daisie smells like home.

Pocketing her choker he stands up and turns, surveying her room for anything else out of place – except everything is. The usually methodical Daisie wouldn’t keep dishes in her room, the bed unmade, and stuff strewn about like she doesn’t care. Or has her mind been somewhere else to the point where it doesn’t even matter? Chester really dropped the ball with this. Letting out a sigh, he looks at Rumple licking his non-injured leg and he looks to her – investigation wall? Che doesn’t know what to call it as he walks back over it to again.

It hadn’t caught his eye before but it is now. Crude writing, not the cute letting of her notes, words that make Chester angry. Who is the piece of shit stalking her? And why didn’t Chester do something about it before? He doesn’t use his Army clout for anything but he would have this time, it’s not stalking if it’s for your protection. He makes the mental note to go to the Garrison and ask about it. Chester rips one of the notes down and crumbles it in his hands, letting it fall to the floor. Pacing back and forth he takes his phone out; who should he call? Her dad is already a cop so should that be his first course of action? But then Chester thinks of the gruff voice making him feel even more like shit for not protecting his only daughter.

Don’t worry Mr. Kim, Chester already hates himself.  

What would Daisie do? It’s a stupid thought but she’s better at this he assumes, she’s got her own precinct in her bedroom. Chester doesn’t know who took her though and he wouldn’t know where to start, there are pictures of them and the mug shots but none she’s labeled as the culprit. Chester’s eyes scan the board over and over, refollowing the red lines. What is she trying to tell him? He’s trying his best to find the missing puzzle piece.

Frustrated he runs a hand through his hair, letting out a yell of frustration that scares Rumple, but he’s injured so jumping off the bed to get away from Chester hurts and he begins to cry again. Chester feels like shit. “I’m sorry…” he mumbles as he picks Rumple up again to inspect his leg. Daisie wouldn’t let this happen him. “Let’s get you better.”

He’s in the waiting room of the vet, he even asked them if they’ve seen Daisie, this is also her stomping grounds when she can make it there and they say no. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Pushing out another ball of air from his lungs he finally pulls his phone out and scrolls through his contacts until he finds the number he’s looking for. It only rings twice before he hears them pick up.

“I was just about to call you.”

Chester slumps back against the chair and chuckles sadly, “I beat you to it. How have you been?” He can’t immediately ask Daisie’s mom where she is, that’s rude, have to ask how she’s been as well. They took to each other, she’s so sweet and he enjoyed the time they spent together, sitting next to each other on the bench with their fingers on the ivory keys making music together. His repertoire is limited but that didn’t matter to her, Hwayoung loved every song, she and Daisie share the name soft laugh reserved for Che, the same soft hands that touch his arm and make him feel like life isn’t all that bad. She said his silly drawings belonged in museums and he disagreed, her flower paintings deserving their own exhibition.

This isn’t a time to reminisce about better days he longs for. There is more pressing matters: Daisie.

“Have you –“

Hwayoung cuts Chester off, “I was about to call you because there is something I need to tell you. Daisie, she’s…” Chester can hear the devastating sadness in her voice, the tears rolling down her cheeks. It just makes Chester even more worried.

“Daisie is in the hospital. She got hurt.”

It is autopilot after that. The vet tells Chester that Rumple will be fine, he just has to take it easy with the playing and eat to gain his strength back. He takes Rumple to his new place, he can explain to Sehun later why they suddenly have a cat in their house. Promising he would come back (Rumple must feel so bad, everyone keeps leaving him – it breaks Chester’s heart,) he leaves his apartment once more and heads to the hospital Hwayoung told him Daisie was being treated at.

He goes to the café on the first floor, the last thing Daisie needs is him making things a bigger deal than they are, and he’ll save his meltdown and tears for when he’s alone. He gets some grapes, those are easy to eat when you’re hurt? He once threw cheese balls in his mouth to impress her, one hit his eye on purpose but he let her think it was because he sucks at catching food in his mouth because that wry grin she would send his way always felt like an accomplishment.

Armed with grapes, slushies he picked up before finally getting the balls to pull into the hospital parking lot, he stands in front of the door of the room they have her in and he takes yet another big breath, lungs expanding and pushing his anxiety out through his nose. Everything will be okay, it has to be. Chester would move heaven and hell, drain the ocean and refill it if he has to.

Should he knock? What if she’s asleep? Would opening the door without knocking be rude? Of course, it’s rude but he’s so ready to see her. To see Daisie alive. Fuck it.

He opens the door.

[cokebloated-blog]

CHE RYU’S INSTAGRAM: DAISIE EDITION.

[cokebloated-blog]

Love, let's talk about love Is it anything and everything you hoped for? Or do the feeling haunt you? I know the feeling haunt you

[cokebloated-blog]

Daisie Kim. Where to start? Daisie Kim is an enigma and she wants it that way. Eyes that see through you. Effortlessly cool, she can be cruel but, that’s because she has to.

Daisie Kim. Where to start? Daisie Kim is a late night during the summer. Just enough cool to keep you alert in the heat. Deep heliotrope bruising along her soft skin that shows you -- she’s a survivor. 

Daisie Kim. Where to start? Her voice rings your head long after she’s gone. Take deja vu mix it with a puzzling feeling and you’ve got Daisie Kim.  But guess what?

She wants it that way.

[cokebloated-blog]

She rings like a bell through the night And wouldn't you love to love her? She was alive like a bird in flight And who will be her lover?