killianjordan

[killianjordan]

@killianjordan: I more than tolerate you.

↳INSTAGRAM: @amirapace uploaded a photo

contrary to what this photo implies, @killianjordan does actually like me. i think. he at the very least tolerates me as a roommate.

[killianjordan]

Killian hoped he wasn’t blushing. He’d given away far too much of his attachment to Amira to a complete stranger. He wondered if everyone saw their relationship the way this hyperactive little blonde did, like to an outsider, maybe they presented as a couple. He cleared his throat to avoid reacting, resisting the urge to turn and get one last look at Amira, wondering how much of their exchange she’d heard.

“I’m not following, and I’m not going to...” he clumsily worked his slender fingers into the same gun-shape she had, aiming at the door as it swung shut behind her. 

He slumped into a plush chair, his too-long legs knocking the underside of the table as he did so. Folding his fingers against his stomach, he tried to look everywhere but the door, wondering what would be the least creepy way to come off. Perhaps he was taking her following-her-into-the-bathroom comment too seriously. 

Killian heard the tell-tale clang of the pipes as the faucet went on, drumming his fingers patiently. A few moments passed before the woman emerged, eyes rimmed red and cheeks smudged with black. She had that kind of kicked-puppy look that Killian was certain nobody could resist, anyone with half a heart would’ve wanted to help her - Killian’s sympathetic streak prevailed, after all.

“I wanted to see if you were alright.” he deadpanned, not moving from his chair. “After whatever happened out there.”

killianjordan​:

At the sound of the little snort leaving her mouth, Killian’s eyes widened. She was a funny little thing. She reminded him of the pretty blonde girls who crossed the street when they saw him coming, or tossed their hair with snotty derision. Killian was used to being seen as scary, a figure dressed in all-black in the alleyway. But this girl was making him seem… sort of silly.

“I’m not going to shoot you, if that’s what you mean.” he said, before stopping in his tracks, giving her chance to catch up. “But I don’t think spies are meant to tell you they’re spies.”

Rolling his eyes, Killian used a hand to push the door open, stepping to one side so the young blonde could squeeze past without any uncomfortable brushing against one another. Behind the door, the room gave way to a small, snug room where the diner’s staff members ate their lunches, presumably in silence, and stared out the solitary window. 

“It’s a bathroom. One that’s ever so slightly cleaner than the customer toilet, and not a secret lair. No criminals here.”

Amusement tugged up the corner of his mouth as he quickly tried to hide a smile. Well, no criminals, other than he and Amira.

“Bathroom is just on the right. I’ll be waiting out here.” he said, clearing his throat, remembering his manners enough to say, “Ladies first, ma’am.”

“You’re right, that’s exactly what a spy would say,” Cassandra agreed, narrowing her eyes to look at him. Shaking her head, she rolled her eyes and shrugged, “But the pretty brunette back there might have something to say if you shot me.”

She was, of course, alluding to Amira. A total bluff since she knew neither of them, but she hoped it would at least fluster him a little, give her some free entertainment after her own mishap.

As he stood there smirking, seemingly pleased with his no criminals line, she couldn’t help but feel like maybe she was being set up. Sure, she didn’t really believe he was about to murder her in a busy diner — this wasn’t the umbrella academy — but something was obviously tickling his fancy. She just wasn’t sure what.

“You know, people only say ladies first when they intend to follow. And I’m locking the door behind me so you don’t, y’know…” she threw her hand up into a mock-gun gesture, before stepping into the bathroom and locking the door behind her.

As she washed her hands, the reality of the moment caught up with her. Now that she could drop her cheerful facade, Cassie’s pulse sped up as she realised just the scene she’d caused. Tears began spilling down her cheeks, smudging her mascara, as it dawned on her that she could definitely never come back here again. Swiping haphazardly with the back of her hand, frowning as she realised her makeup was way past fixing, she finally stepped back out into the busy kitchen, surprised to find that slenderman himself had waited.

“You actually… waited?”

[killianjordan]

At the sound of the little snort leaving her mouth, Killian’s eyes widened. She was a funny little thing. She reminded him of the pretty blonde girls who crossed the street when they saw him coming, or tossed their hair with snotty derision. Killian was used to being seen as scary, a figure dressed in all-black in the alleyway. But this girl was making him seem... sort of silly.

“I’m not going to shoot you, if that’s what you mean.” he said, before stopping in his tracks, giving her chance to catch up. “But I don’t think spies are meant to tell you they’re spies.”

Rolling his eyes, Killian used a hand to push the door open, stepping to one side so the young blonde could squeeze past without any uncomfortable brushing against one another. Behind the door, the room gave way to a small, snug room where the diner’s staff members ate their lunches, presumably in silence, and stared out the solitary window. 

“It’s a bathroom. One that’s ever so slightly cleaner than the customer toilet, and not a secret lair. No criminals here.”

Amusement tugged up the corner of his mouth as he quickly tried to hide a smile. Well, no criminals, other than he and Amira.

“Bathroom is just on the right. I’ll be waiting out here.” he said, clearing his throat, remembering his manners enough to say, “Ladies first, ma’am.”

killianjordan​:

“What?” Killian asked, impolite and abrupt, confused by the sudden derailing of their conversation. He followed her eyes to where they had landed on his gloves, his brain suddenly catching up with her words. People stared at his gloves all the time - as the woman had so helpfully pointed out, they were in a heatwave - but he preferred the discomfort of the warmth in his hands and sideways glances to involuntarily touches from strangers.

“You’d be smart to take my lead.” Killian told her, trying not to be affronted by her little laugh. “I don’t like mess or fuss.”

Killian was already walking towards the counter, sure the blonde was following. His shoulders stiffened awkwardly, hoping Amira hadn’t heard that particular comment. 

“Not my girlfriend.” he grumbled, under his breath, knowing that he’d set himself up for that one. He ducked under the counter, body contorting in order to do so, and was immediately hit with the smell of fries and greasy burgers. He brushed past Amira, gloved hand skirting the small of her back - always immune to his rules, as the owner shouted his annoyance at Killian, once again causing problems.

“You know me, Sal. Let’s not kick up a fuss.”

He snatched the key to the toilet off a hook on the wall, glancing behind him to make sure the woman was following. He shot her a lopsided smile, beckoning with his hand.

“Hurry up.” he urged her on, “It’s just through here.”

“I’d be smart to…” Cassie frowned, confused by his tone. Lips parted, she merely blinked at the man — nay, giant — as he continued talking, each word that followed sounding like bad movie dialogue. An uncensored snort escaped her throat as Cassie giggled at the man. “You don’t like mess or fuss? What is this, an action movie?”

She paused, watching as he turned to walk away, flustered as she scrambled to her feet. With absolutely no grace, she shoved the shoddy remains of her wasted lunch into the trash, and sped after him. Keeping her voice low and trying not to clean in too close, she whispered, “Are you a spy?”

As Cassie quickened her pace to keep up — his legs really were too long, it had to be a safety hazard — she caught sight of Amira, watching the blush that creeped up her neck at just the slightest touch from her spy/slenderman/boyfriend. Okay, so maybe she wasn’t into Dean — not that it would matter if she was, of course.

Cassie felt nervous as eyes trailed after them, the two of them clearly not meant to be behind the counter. But then again, Amira seemed nice, and she seemed unbothered by her presence too, not even batting an eye as she trailed after spy/slenderman/boyfriend — Cassie really needed to ask him his name.

“Um… if I go inside am I actually gonna find a bathroom? Or is this some king of secret lair where you kidnap me and send my dad a ransom note and try to sell me to criminals? Because my dad is so not Liam Neeson…”

[killianjordan]

“What?” Killian asked, impolite and abrupt, confused by the sudden derailing of their conversation. He followed her eyes to where they had landed on his gloves, his brain suddenly catching up with her words. People stared at his gloves all the time - as the woman had so helpfully pointed out, they were in a heatwave - but he preferred the discomfort of the warmth in his hands and sideways glances to involuntarily touches from strangers.

“You’d be smart to take my lead.” Killian told her, trying not to be affronted by her little laugh. “I don’t like mess or fuss.”

Killian was already walking towards the counter, sure the blonde was following. His shoulders stiffened awkwardly, hoping Amira hadn’t heard that particular comment. 

“Not my girlfriend.” he grumbled, under his breath, knowing that he’d set himself up for that one. He ducked under the counter, body contorting in order to do so, and was immediately hit with the smell of fries and greasy burgers. He brushed past Amira, gloved hand skirting the small of her back - always immune to his rules, as the owner shouted his annoyance at Killian, once again causing problems.

“You know me, Sal. Let’s not kick up a fuss.”

He snatched the key to the toilet off a hook on the wall, glancing behind him to make sure the woman was following. He shot her a lopsided smile, beckoning with his hand.

“Hurry up.” he urged her on, “It’s just through here.”

killianjordan​:

Crowded into a corner booth, Killian watched as the lunch rush died down. He’d been sitting there for the better part of an hour, much to the chagrin of many families, necks craned as they searched for a spare booth. But if Killian heard their tuts and saw their dirty looks, he paid them no mind. His legs were stretched languidly across the cracked upholstery, nursing a black coffee in one hand as he waited for Amira to finish her shift. He did this sometimes, when his own business was slow or he simply tired of pacing the floor in their shared apartment. He would tug on his jacket and make his way down to the diner so that he might walk her home. Killian knew Amira could handle any trouble someone might give her on that walk, but he still craved her company. 

Plus, he enjoyed the secret little smiles she’d send him from across the floor. Or watching her get on her tiptoes to reach the top shelf, agile as ever, her shirt riding up around her stomach. Although, he’d never quite admit that last part. Callum gave him enough shit for mooching around the diner. 

A commotion drew Killian’s attention, a flash of blonde hair racing past his table. Normally he would put the urgency down to a stressed waitress or a harried Mother chasing a toddler, but something about her just didn’t seem right. Oddly enough, the young woman was snatching up napkins, running the rough paper over her skin in a manner that could only be described as manic. Killian’s stomach bottomed in sympathy. He’d been there, with Saskia tapping her foot impatiently as he washed his hands for the third time, or looking around in embarrassment to make sure nobody noticed Killian’s strange behaviour.

Nine times out of ten, Killian would have ducked his head, looked the other way. Maybe it was Amira, whose mere presence made him lighter and kinder, or maybe it was that he saw himself reflected in the panic on the poor girl’s face. Whatever it was, Killian found himself rising from his seat, heading over to… he wasn’t sure yet. Enquire after her?

Instead, as he moved to meet her, the woman turned, hands shaking, so involved in her own personal crises that she failed to see Killian, tall and wiry as he was. Her grip loosened on the bag as her body collided with his, the bag dropping to the floor with a sad, wet sound.

Unsure what to do now that he’d gotten here, Killian simply knelt beside her, making sure to avoid contact with a squashed fry or two. Any other person would lay a hand on her shoulder, extend a hand to help her up. But Killian wasn’t any other person.

“You’re not stupid.” Killian said, his words coming out harsher than they should’ve, given the situation. “I watch people drop their food here all the time. It’s not an issue.”

But distress was still painted across her features, and as Killian’s eyes moved to her still-shaking hands, a thought struck him.

“Do you need to wash your hands? I can get you to the staff toilets. My gi-” Killian paused, tugging at his collar with a gloved hand, before starting again, “My friend works here.”

Standing to his full height, Killian carelessly kicked the bag aside.

“Get up. You’re alright.” he attempted to comfort her, though he doubted his words had the desired effect. 

As embarrassing as it was to admit, Cassandra was used to frequent eye rolls and huffs being directed at her. She was accustomed to panic attacks, to scrambling on the floor after losing purchase of her belongings in a manic state as people stepped around her, offering no assistance. In truth, she’d never fully understood why it would bother her so much when Dean replicated those same responses, always looking at her like she was the greatest nuisance he’d ever had the displeasure of meeting. But in the end, it always stung a little, no matter how common it was.

When the man she’d collided with simply knelt down and begun helping her, his tone was lost on her entirely. Instead, Cassie stared up at him — even kneeling, he had a good head in height on her, was he some kind of giant? — her brow creasing, lips puckering in confusion. He was helping her, offering her words of encouragement, and not once had he laid an unwanted hand on her. Admittedly the bar was very low, but the gratitude ballooned in her chest.

“You’re wearing gloves,” Cassie blurred out, bypassing every kind word and every question, the desire to thank him lost on her as she stared at the leather encasing his hands.

Shaking her head, she released a choked laugh, “Sorry. It’s just— there’s a heatwave. And you’re wearing gloves.”

She blushed, ducking her head in embarrassment, an array of fries abandoned in her hand. By the time she found her voice again, it was soft and timid, exhaustion coating her words.

“But I’d love to use your girlfriend’s bathroom, yes. If you could show me?”’

[killianjordan]

Crowded into a corner booth, Killian watched as the lunch rush died down. He’d been sitting there for the better part of an hour, much to the chagrin of many families, necks craned as they searched for a spare booth. But if Killian heard their tuts and saw their dirty looks, he paid them no mind. His legs were stretched languidly across the cracked upholstery, nursing a black coffee in one hand as he waited for Amira to finish her shift. He did this sometimes, when his own business was slow or he simply tired of pacing the floor in their shared apartment. He would tug on his jacket and make his way down to the diner so that he might walk her home. Killian knew Amira could handle any trouble someone might give her on that walk, but he still craved her company. 

Plus, he enjoyed the secret little smiles she’d send him from across the floor. Or watching her get on her tiptoes to reach the top shelf, agile as ever, her shirt riding up around her stomach. Although, he’d never quite admit that last part. Callum gave him enough shit for mooching around the diner. 

A commotion drew Killian’s attention, a flash of blonde hair racing past his table. Normally he would put the urgency down to a stressed waitress or a harried Mother chasing a toddler, but something about her just didn’t seem right. Oddly enough, the young woman was snatching up napkins, running the rough paper over her skin in a manner that could only be described as manic. Killian’s stomach bottomed in sympathy. He’d been there, with Saskia tapping her foot impatiently as he washed his hands for the third time, or looking around in embarrassment to make sure nobody noticed Killian’s strange behaviour.

Nine times out of ten, Killian would have ducked his head, looked the other way. Maybe it was Amira, whose mere presence made him lighter and kinder, or maybe it was that he saw himself reflected in the panic on the poor girl’s face. Whatever it was, Killian found himself rising from his seat, heading over to... he wasn’t sure yet. Enquire after her?

Instead, as he moved to meet her, the woman turned, hands shaking, so involved in her own personal crises that she failed to see Killian, tall and wiry as he was. Her grip loosened on the bag as her body collided with his, the bag dropping to the floor with a sad, wet sound.

Unsure what to do now that he’d gotten here, Killian simply knelt beside her, making sure to avoid contact with a squashed fry or two. Any other person would lay a hand on her shoulder, extend a hand to help her up. But Killian wasn’t any other person.

“You’re not stupid.” Killian said, his words coming out harsher than they should’ve, given the situation. “I watch people drop their food here all the time. It’s not an issue.”

But distress was still painted across her features, and as Killian’s eyes moved to her still-shaking hands, a thought struck him.

“Do you need to wash your hands? I can get you to the staff toilets. My gi-” Killian paused, tugging at his collar with a gloved hand, before starting again, “My friend works here.”

Standing to his full height, Killian carelessly kicked the bag aside.

“Get up. You’re alright.” he attempted to comfort her, though he doubted his words had the desired effect. 

“Order 56! Order up!”

Cassandra’s head snapped up, the soft British accent pulling her from her daydream immediately, her eyes finding the owner in an instant. She wasn’t personally friendly with Amira, the pretty girl behind the counter, but she’d seen her with Dean at the gym a fair few times. Truth be told, she’d seen her appear on his Instagram feed far more times than pleased her, their flirty banter impossible to miss. Not that she was the jealous type, of course. All the same, as fast food went, this particular diner was one of her favourite local spots, and Amira was always sweet when she served her.

Cassie made her way to the counter to retrieve her takeout, smiling brightly at the man handing it to her. Just as the paper bag passed hands, his fingers grazed her wrist, startling her, a sharp gasp escaping Cassie as her eyes widened. He frowned in confusion, snapping his hand back and rolling his eyes as he walked away, grunting under his breath about dramatic females, leaving a sticky residue behind, just below her palm.

Breathing fast, Cassie spun around on the spot, heart racing as she scurried towards the condiment counter, snatching up napkins aplenty. Her hands were frantic as they rubbed at her wrist, aggressive enough to bruise, her breathing becoming far more erratic with every second.

She knew she was being unreasonable, knew that the man had meant her no harm, but the touch of his grimey, unwanted fingers on her skin had sent her into a spiral. As her hands began to tremble, Cassie knew that she needed to get out and get home, so she turned sharply, intending to race right out the door, but instead found herself colliding with another body, sending her paper bag and all its contents straight to the floor.

Dropping to her knees with a sharp cry, Cassie whined, “Oh no, no, no. I’m such an idiot. Oh gosh, I’m so stupid.”

[killianjordan]

TEXT: AMIRA

Amira: not true, i just know what i like, killer x

Killian: I'm glad. See you soon, Mira. x

[killianjordan]

TEXT: AMIRA

Amira: you know, you're hotter when you're not playing dumb

x

Killian: You're insatiable. x

[killianjordan]

TEXT: AMIRA

Amira: thanks, baby x

Amira: and this 'rela'?

Amira: :)

Killian: Hm?

[killianjordan]

TEXT: AMIRA

Amira: it did, didn't it?

Amira: thank you, btw. i know i was being a twat, but you have cheered me up. fuck all of those bullshit gossipers, i love our dysfunction x

Killian: No you weren't. I know I'm not always the easiest person to have these things out with. But I'm glad we talked, and I'm glad you're with me.

Killian: I like us too.

[killianjordan]

TEXT: AMIRA

Amira: sexier.

Amira: piss off

Amira: is it such a terrible thing to want a cuddle from the boy that you adore?

Amira: tolerate. boy that i... tolerate?

Killian: Adore?

Killian: Suddenly, this bad day just got a whole lot better.

[killianjordan]

TEXT: AMIRA

Amira: fiiine! i'll leave the brooding to you. it's a sexier look on you than me x

[a few minutes pass]

Amira: oh

Amira: in that case

Amira: i think i actually might need you, immediately actually? having a terrible time right now, as it happens

Killian: Sexier?

Killian: Maybe I shouldn't come get you, can you be trusted to control yourself?

[killianjordan]

TEXT: AMIRA

Amira: never :)

Amira: am i? am i allowed to be angry? i didn't pick up on that from your many texts. x

Amira: i was just wondering what, exactly, your plan was if i had said i needed you here? i mean, just, hypothetically.

Killian: Fine, fuck you. You're not allowed to be angry ever, ever again x

Killian: I come get you, I take you home, we get food. And I cuddle you. If you wanted.

[killianjordan]

TEXT: AMIRA

Amira: and i missed it? ugggggghhhhhh

Amira: a moments silence for that rare, glorious sight, please.

Amira: i am angry, but i'm also sorry. they've been shit to you too. and so have i.

Amira: i do have a question, though...

Killian: Now stop it, you.

Killian: It's alright. You're allowed to be angry.

Killian: What was it? The question?

[killianjordan]

TEXT: AMIRA

Amira: and you choose now to finally listen to me? typical

Killian: I can't say that didn't make me crack a smile.

[five minutes pass]

Killian: I don't want us to be unhealthy. And I don't want to fight.

Killian: If you need to be angry, you can be angry.

Killian: And I'll be here.

[killianjordan]

TEXT: AMIRA

Amira: killian, with all the fucking love, shut up

Amira: i might be an absolute mess, and we aren't always healthy, you're right. but i can make my own choices. you could have begged me to leave and i would have still stayed.

Amira: and i'm angry at every bastard that lead me here, but i am not angry at you.

Killian: You told me to shut up.

[killianjordan]

TEXT: AMIRA

Amira: what? us? my fucked up little head?

[three minutes pass]

Amira: sorry. i'm not angry at you.

Killian: Us. Maybe this is us - dark and seedy and uncomfortable. I practically begged you to stay after...

Killian: You're allowed to be angry at me.

[killianjordan]

TEXT: AMIRA

Amira: in this what, kill?

Amira: it's fine. whatever. it's- i'm just so tired.

Amira: sobriety is more exhausting than addiction, who knew

Killian: Nothing.

[a few minutes pass]

Killian: Maybe this is unhealthy.