#And he could not properly reciprocate any relationships had she paid him mind like that at the beginning. Because Horrors

[selfcontainedunivcrse]

my beautiful wizards . i am thinking about them. well . there is one guy who isn't a wizard but he hangs out with them and his name is Kyle and he believes that he's Evil and Irredeemable due 2 a pile of trauma and then there is Ri who does not actually have time for his dark and twisted mind because she's like, trying to be a doctor over here? if you don't mind?

she is explicitly Not trying to fix him except for occasionally medically. but their mutual best friend is busy being problematic gay rep so he ends up kind of being her assistant/non-magic guinea pig out of a lack of self preservation and nothing else better to do. and they become buddies :) And then the world's only straight people

[eatfishies]

champagne problems

summary: “Your mom’s ring in your pocket, my picture in your wallet, your heart was glass, I dropped it. Champagne problems.” note: features time skip! kageyama. all characters in the present timeline is 21+. slight spoilers from the manga. fem! reader. she/her pronouns. song: champagne problems by taylor swift word count: 1,800 words warnings: alchohol use genre: angst arthie’s note: a fic for the capricorn baby ~~ happy birthday kags!! initially i didn’t plan this out however i’ve been listening to taylor’s new album on repeat and one of my favs from her album is the song “champagne problems” hence the title *wink wink* anyways, this is rlly sad and i hope all of you like this as much as i like writing it hehe ~~ ♡(｡- ω -) ↳ main masterlist ⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆ Hugging herself tightly, clutching onto the thick jacket to shield herself from the chilliness, watching as the pearly white snow cascade onto the wooden floor, evaporating into liquid. “Y/n?” He calls out making her head turned, gazing at him fondly. He walked towards her, handing a glass of champagne which she thanked for the gesture. They both indulged in the alcoholic drink as they watch the snowfield scenery before them. It was Christmas Eve and they just had gone and celebrate Kageyama’s 24th birthday. After bidding farewells to their guests, the couple took the time to unwind outside their rented vacation home, sitting atop of the snowy mountain. Kageyama had insisted to stay here for a few weeks until Christmas or possibly till New Year’s. Now that they had the house all to themselves, he couldn’t help but feel more anxious as time goes by, side-eyeing his lover who seemed to be immersed on admiring the beautiful frosty landscape from a distance.

He had memorized the details of his properly thought-out plan, wishing all of his luck that nothing ruins it. God, knows how long he spent dwelling over it and fretting about the worst possible outcomes that could come out of this. However, his friends had reassured him multiple times that it would go as smoothly as he hopes it to be. Feeling the presence beside him made him fully aware of how in awe he is with her, his ethereal partner who is ever-so kind, thoughtful, supportive, patient and understanding of every part of him. She even knows how to manage his short-temper and often gives him space whenever he needed it. Looking back on their relationship definitely confirmed of how utterly in love he is with her. Shaking his head, quickly diminishing any thoughts that would turn into a session of overthinking— he gently intertwines their fingers together, the cold emitting off of her as she blinks at him innocently. “Babe, are you okay?” She asked, concerned underneath her tired, soft voice. He gave her a small smile, gripping her hand to assure her, “I just feel lucky to have you.” That caused her to broke into fits of laughter, he furrowed his brows. “What’s so funny about me confessing what I truly feel?” She can hear the tiny hurt evident in his voice. She cooed, caressing his cheek, “Nothing’s wrong. It’s just.. so weird of you to suddenly make a proclaim that you love me when you’re usually so standoffish.” He averted his gaze, pondering over her words. Quickly sensing that he might go into overthinking mode, she held his face, staring into his crystal azure eyes. “Kageyama Tobio.” She started off, watching him gape at her. “You are the most loving person ever. It doesn’t matter that you don’t often express your emotions but your actions speaks louder than those words. So please, don’t be sadden over what I said. It’s a part of you that made me love you and I don’t mind that at all. In fact; I love every single thing about you.” Hearing those affirmations made his heart sparked with elation, gingerly bringing their faces close as he tasted her lips that escalated into something more as he drowns himself in her love with the tang of champagne filling up his mouth every time he kissed her. He’s so desperately, maddeningly, in love with her. ⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆ The bright sun peeked beneath the curtains, signalling them to wake and start their day. He awoken to a pair of arms wrapped around him, soft breathing from his lover as she sleeps peacefully. He smiled, gleeful of her declaration and what the future has in store for the both of them. Carefully removing himself from her embrace, he walked towards the kitchen, preparing them both breakfast before heading out. They took the train to visit their families, beaming at everyone and its cheerful atmosphere that makes him feel warm. He recalls the moment he told his family about his “plan”, they were all thrilled and couldn’t wait to hear the news. Her family had been delighted as well, noting that they were both good for each other and is a perfect couple. Knowing that he has permission to make his move, he feels himself getting more eager to execute his plan. The reunion with families had left him content and all of the anxiousness is slowly dissipating away as they strolled around the park, stopping at the middle where a massive Christmas tree was placed, decorated with glimmering ornaments and festive lights all around. It makes the ambience more fitting with what he’s about to do. Throughout the entire day, he had observed his partner, imprinting her facial expressions into his mind and the way she communicates. Kageyama has always been observant— he just paid extra attention to his lover than anything else (except volleyball). He knew she is the one when she didn’t fuss or get annoyed with his obsession over volleyball even if his career comes first, she never minded and persuaded him to go follow his dreams. He reciprocated that with her too; often checking on her to make sure that she doesn’t overwork herself and celebrated every milestone and promotions she achieved. He knew how important it is to her for her ambitions to come first; they’re both alike yet different in many ways which makes them work well together. Her eyes gazes at the bright lights, awe of the stunning decorations. He fidgets with the box inside his coat pocket, biting his lip as he tries to shake off the anxiety bubbling in the pit of his stomach. With his heart hammering against his chest, he bent down to one knee and pulls the box out of his pocket. Noticing his actions, she widened at the sight of him. He opens the box, revealing a dazzling gold ring. She covers her mouth, stunned. He exhaled, staring at her with so much honesty and love. “Y/n… we’ve been together for the past couple of years. You’ve stuck with me even through all the highs and lows. You comforted me during hard times and knows how to deal with my sensitive yet childish behaviours. You never once doubted my love for you and supported me through all of my endeavours. You were never upset with how ambitious I am for volleyball and always cheer for me throughout every game I’ve had. You made me the happiest person alive and God knows how much I love you with all my heart. I’m never one to rightfully express what I truly feel therefore here I am, pouring all of my feelings for you. With that being said, will you marry me?” Tears prickled on her eyes as she stared at the man whom she knew she loved… yet she doesn’t feel right by saying yes. With a shaky breath, she solemnly responds. “No.” Shocked upon her answer, he looked up at her in disbelief. Hurt plastered all across his face as he slowly stood up. He inched closer, “What do you mean… no?” He whispered, his voice brittle due to her statement as he can feel the void inside his chest. Breaking off the gaze, she closed her eyes shut. “I’m sorry Tobio but.. no. I can’t. I’m not ready for it.” She admitted, scared of his reaction as she gripped her jacket tightly. “I— you could’ve just told me. I would wait for you and—“ “No. Tobio just.. please don’t make this harder than it already is.” She cuts him off. “I’m sorry but I can never see myself being tied to someone.” He can feel the ache in his heart, “Even me?” He asked painfully. Finally opening her eyes, she nodded sullenly. “Yes.”  She gently holds his face, pulling him into a chaste kiss. “Goodbye, Tobio. I’m sorry.” With that, he lets her hand fall just like how she lets his heart shatter against the floor, as she disappears into the sea of strangers. The crowds bustling around him as he feel his heart broke into a thousand pieces. The ringing of his phone startled him from his stupor, he answered it without needing to check. “Mom.. she said no.” He breaks the news forlornly, allowing the tears that he held back stream down his cheeks as his chest ache dreadfully. The night had never seemed so dull for him as he lies his head against the train window, watching the constellations dim from blazing so brightly. He cried and cried until he couldn’t. He didn’t care if anybody stared at him sympathetically, all he knew and felt on this somber night is heartbreak, swallowing him whole as her crestfallen response plays in his head over and over again. He can tell from the moment he stepped inside their once-shared house that she had left and brought all of her belongings with her. Officially leaving him to wallow in his own sorrow. The box which the ring sits prettily at is tossed aside, he considers burning it or throwing it away but decided against it as the ring belongs to his mother whom got engaged with the said band.  A picture of her grinning happily as the wind blows her hair is tucked safely in his wallet, he glared at the memory before casting it into the fire, watching it burn and turn into dust. From that night— he closed himself off from everyone nor did he ever catch a sight of her again. It was as if she had vanished into thin air or perhaps she moved to a new country. He stored away all of the memories they had with each other into the back of his mind, never wanting to relive it. Years had flew by and he not once got an answer or a hint as to why she had so readily rejected his proposal. He long accepted their fate and the love they once shared was nothing but a memory of the past. She was just a stranger he used to loved. As he makes his way towards the figure standing in front of him, he smiled and bent down, reenacting the bitter scene yet again. His new lover sobbed happily as she joyfully accepted his proposal. Her picture in his wallet as he slips the ring onto her dainty finger, noting her wide grin. Little did he knew— his past lover is observing the scene from afar, smiling sadly at the exchange. She sighed, knowing that she deserved to be hated for what she did as she walks away, wishing them nothing but the best for their future.  Maybe someday, she can tell the tale of someone who was dear to her to her grandchildren and to never make the same mistake as she did. 

[witch-and-a-half]

hii could u write a cedric one where it’s friends to lovers but make it like super angsty but fluffy at the end? and it takes place in hogwarts?

wow this is longer than i’d expected but i got a bit carried away!!! hopefully you like it :) my requests are still open if anyone else wants to request anything!

- - -

Glaring across the Great Hall, you watched some Ravenclaw girl chat with Cedric. You and Cedric had been friends since first-year, but, as time passed, your relationship had developed into something more—at least, that’s what you’d thought. It had seemed like the two of you had been flirting quite often, but maybe you were mistaken? Maybe you’d just misinterpreted his natural kindness for romantic advances. You thought back to the way he paid for your pastries at Madam Puddifoot's or gave you his notes when you were too sick for classes. At the time, you’d sworn that his eyes glimmered when you bit into the pastry he bought and that the notes he gave you were noticeably neater than the ones he normally took.

Your jaw clenched seeing the way Cedric was laughing with this girl. Not only were you hurt that he was flirting with someone else, but you were mad at yourself for actually believing he felt the same way about you that you felt about him. He’d made you feel foolish. You stood up and left the Great Hall in a huff; you couldn’t stand to see him flirting with her.

What you didn’t see, however, was Cedric’s eyes snap up and watch you march out of the Great Hall with your hair flying behind you. He excused himself and left after you.

“[y/n]!” He came running up next to you in the hall, a few corridors away from the Great Hall. You didn’t look at him. You were too angry and hurt to talk to him, and you worried that if you did, everything would come spilling out. Cedric bowed his head a bit as you walked, trying to meet your eyes, “Is everything alright?”

“Look, Cedric,”

The usage of his full name and your calmly enraged tone was alarming. His face bunched up in confusion as you continued.

“I don’t want to talk to you right now,”

He was so taken aback by your unusually irritated mood that it took him a moment to reply, “Can you at least tell me what’s going on?”

“It’s nothing,” You hissed back, still not meeting his eye.

Cedric had never seen you so stubborn and was surprised by how much it upset him. “Okay fine,” His voice was harsh and he stopped walking, “I’ll leave you alone.” You just continued toward the library, leaving your best friend angrily bewildered in the hall behind you.

~ ~ ~

About a week had passed when you bumped into Cedric in the owlery. The two of you had been feverishly avoiding each other since your tiff in the hallway. You sat far apart—and, often, alone—during meals and shared classes. It had been excruciating. Cedric and yourself had spent most of your time together since you’d come to Hogwarts. But you’d never fought like this, and you both felt like the time apart would be less painful than facing each other.

But now, as you were the only two students in the owlery, Cedric mustered up the courage to confront you, “Hey, [y/n]?”

His words were soft and hesitant, as though he thought you were going to explode. You finished tying a letter to your owl before turning around to have the conversation you’d been preparing in your head all week. Meeting his eyes, you saw the same longing that he likely saw in your eyes.

Before you could respond, Cedric continued, “Look, I’m really sorry. Could you please just tell me what I’ve done so I can properly apologize and we can move on?”

Your eyes fell nervously to the stone floor as you explained, “I was just upset seeing that Ravenclaw all over you is all,”

Cedric was quiet for a moment, so you looked back up at him curiously. You were surprised to see his eyes narrowed a bit in anger.

“You don’t have any say in which girls I talk to, and you have no right to be angry about it.”

Tears stung [y/n]’s eyes as she looked back down, fiddling with the sleeves of her robe. She steadied her voice, “I know that,”

Cedric raised his voice, “Just because you don’t think I’m worth dating doesn’t mean other girls can’t fancy me.”

He was out of the owlery door before [y/n] could react. Leaving her slack-jawed amongst the birds. After a moment, she realized what was happening and was practically flying down the stairs behind Cedric. When she caught up to him, she grabbed his shoulder and, in sheer disbelief, exclaimed, “What?”

Cedric froze when he saw the genuine confusion in your eyes. “I said,” his voice was slower and less sure this time, “Just because you don’t like me doesn’t mean…”

But you cut him off, “Who said I don’t like you?” Your voice was louder than you’d intended. Cedric’s face softened at your words. He sputtered for a bit before replying, “But I saw you coming out of an empty class with a Weasley last week… and I figured…”

You didn’t mean to giggle, but you were so relieved that the whole argument was just a misunderstanding that the soft laughter just spilled out. Cedric smiled sheepishly, still confused, but mutually relieved that everything seemed to be falling back into place.

“We were coming out of detention…” You grinned.

“Oh thank Merlin,” Cedric exhaled as the two of you continued down the stairs.

“Wait… why?” You asked, masking your nerves with a playful tone.

“Oh, uh… Wait… you don’t not like me?” He jabbed back with a devilish smile.

You had reached the bottom of the stairs, and Cedric turned to block you from stepping back onto the grass. His eyes were level with yours as he stood a step below you. The coyness faded from his face and was replaced with a more serious look.

“You fancy me?” He asked plainly.

“Yeah but…”

“Why didn’t you tell me? I’ve been so obvious I figured you just didn’t feel the same.”

You were absolutely dumbfounded. Then your mind raced back to the same memories you’d thought of in the Great Hall. The pastries and notes. “You… you like me?”

“Of course I do!” He grabbed your shoulders as though he could literally shake some sense into you, “I always save you a seat besides me and you’re the first person I hug when I win a Quidditch match.” Your face grew hot. So it turns out you were right to think those were romantic gestures, and you were the only foolish for not reciprocating.

“Merlin I-” Cedric continued, but you were determined to not ignore another advance. Before he could finish his sentence, you pressed your lips against his. His hands moved from your shoulders to cup your face, immediately kissing you back, and you clung onto his robes. The kiss was tender and soft, unlike the events that had led to it.

After a few moments, you pulled away, breathless. Cedric just smiled at you and took your hand to lead you back into the castle.

[demivampirew]

Don’t judge a book by its cover chapter 5

A Cap. Syverson story.

Triggers: Heartbreak ;use of curse words and mention of stalking.

Synopsis: Rebeca is an Argentinian girl who a few months ago moved to the USA (Washington D.C) to study in university thanks to a scholarship that she was granted. She’s lonely. People don’t treat her well. Some could be understood but most of them just hate her for being a foreigner. She meets Syverson because he’s a man from the South and she has not had a good experience with people from there, but she may find out at the end that she shouldn’t judge a book by its cover.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Tag:  lunedelorient  

Rebeca felt guilty for ignoring Syverson's messages and calls after the many times he saved her. He has been so good to her, but she needed time. She wasn't ready to talk to him after being rejected. It still hurt her too much. After three days of trying hard to reach her, he gave up and stopped trying to get in contact with her. She owned Danielle, her classmate, a great deal. If it wasn't for her, she would definitely fail in the upcoming test, because she's been so distracted by the situation with Sy, that she barely paid any attention at classes. When they were alone in the library, Beca confessed to the girl that he wasn't really her boyfriend and explained her story with him to the girl and she supported her and they became friends after that. It was nice to know that she had someone she could share her thoughts and feelings. After three weeks of not hearing anything about Syverson, her boss pointed out to her, as her Friday shift was coming to an end, that "her friend" was waiting for her outside the store. She saw through the store window that Sy was standing, with his back against his car, looking at the store, waiting for Rebeca to leave. She sighed. Minutes later she grabbed her bag and went to see him. - Hi.- he greeted her. Seeing him was like a stab to her heart. She missed him so much and liked him a lot and having him in front of her reminded her what happened the last time they saw each other and made her want to cry. - Hi.- she replied. There was an awkward silence before he spoke again. - Get in the car, I'll take you home. - he said - I'm fine, I can walk home. Why are you here? - You know why I'm here. I've been trying to reach you for days and you ignored me, so I'm here to talk about what happened. - he explained - There's nothing to talk. I have feelings for you but they're not reciprocated. That's all. It's not the end of the world. I'm sorry for ignoring you, but I didn't felt like talking. In case you didn't notice, I still feel embarrassed about what happened. But I'll be fine, don't worry. - the young woman explained. - Get in the car- he ordered her. - Please - he added not to sound severe and she finally did as he said. He drove to her house but stopped the car halfway there, parking in an empty street. - I don't live here.- she said as soon as he turned off the car, confused. - I know. I wanted to talk first and I assumed that you didn't want your curious neighbour to see us talking. - he pointed out and she agreed. - Look, Beca... - he began - you're wrong. - I know. That's why were are in this mess. Because I was wrong, you don't like me back. That's ok. - I do like you. Probably even more than you like me. I think I liked you since the first moment I saw you and saw how fierce you were when you stood up to me. Not a lot of people dares to speak to me like that. I was so intrigued by you that I knew I had to reach you and meet you properly. After that, I could not take you off my mind. I even must confess that sometimes I've followed you around. It wasn't my intention to stalk you, I  was sick worried about you, afraid someone might hurt you. Even in these last few weeks. You might have not heard about me, but I followed you every night from work to your house, to make sure you made it safe. I'd never let any harm come to you. - Rebeca was holding the tears from coming out. - So if you like me back, why did you stop me that day? Why did you not tell me what you just told me? - she questioned, confused. - Because - he replied and sighed before continuing- I don't date. I'm still every single day on the wait for a call to tell me that I have to go back to the war zone. I can date someone if there's a chance I'd have to leave her and maybe never come back. I'd prefer to prevent you that pain. - Instead, you prefer to see me suffer because I like you and you like me back but you don't want anything because maybe, just maybe, you might get a call to go back to war. - I don't want you to suffer, no. - he clarified - But I'm suffering. Now even more. You actually want me, but prefer to be alone waiting for a call that may never happen. - he told him bitterly. - You're wasting your life and happiness on something that's just a possibility. - Beca...- he began but she interrupted him. - Just take me home, please. - she finished and looked through the car's window, ignoring him. He sighed once more in a sign of defeat and did as she told him. When they got to her place, before leaving his car, she turned to him, thanked him for everything he's done for her and she said her final goodbye to him. Her words hurt both of them, just like the fact that they liked each other but he didn't want to be in a relationship. This wasn't Rebeca's first heartbreak, but it was the first time that someone who cared about her broke her heart, the rest were just fuckboys from her teenage years. Weeks passed by and the semester was close to ending. She had a hard time concentrating on her studies but she needed to focus. Sy never tried to call her o text her again. He disappeared. She knew it was probably for the best, but it still hurt too damn much. One day, after coming from work and getting ready to go to bed, she heard somebody knocking on her door. She opened it and there was him, Syverson, standing with his arms crossed on his chest anxiously looking at the door. As soon as he saw her, they both froze and looked into each other's eyes. There was no need for words, their eyes were doing the talk. He crossed the door, grabbing her face and kissing her, closing the door behind him. He pulled her against the wall as they engaged in a passionate and loving kiss.

[taexual]

HOLIC - 24 | jb x reader

pairing: Im Jaebum x Reader

genre: enemies to lovers au | roommate au

warnings: some angst, some fluff

words: 5.4k

disclaimer: i do not own the gif, please let me know if it belongs to you, so i can give proper credit

               prev / next

You could not get Jaebum’s voice out of your head all throughout the next day at work. You’ve only heard the song once so you couldn’t recall all of the lyrics, but the melody echoed around your mind and you found yourself humming along under your breath the entire day. You should have asked Jackson to forward the song to you instead of bailing like you did. You should have also thrown your arms over Jaebum and screamed at him about how good his music was until he finally believed you. But there was something stopping you from doing that.

In part, it could have been your own naturally reserved nature. Despite craving affection at times, you weren’t usually overly affectionate either. Hugging people out of the blue wasn’t something you were brave enough to do no matter how much your hands were itching to touch them. More than that, however, you had a feeling it was the fear of what would happen after – you’d hug Jaebum, fireworks would explode, but… what then? The overhwelming amount of feelings his music had caused you did not make a good pair for the uncertainty you felt, as well as the plain obscurity regarding your future with him.

You’ve been listening—or, well, trying to listen—to Eva, your supervisor, as she explained to you and a few of your colleagues how to handle the sudden swarm of schoolchildren that were coming to an exhibition at the gallery, and still replaying the chorus of Jaebum’s song in your mind, when you felt someone watching you.

Truth be told, it could have been anyone. A fair number of weird characters appeared at the gallery and just stood there, staring at nothing in particular – stoners, usually, but seemingly sober people dozed off here pretty often, too – but you could already tell this wasn’t the case before you even shifted your gaze to the far corner of the gallery where Jiho had just entered through the backdoor, stopping immediately after he caught the sight of you.

You hadn’t called in sick today, after all. But, oh, at that moment, you truly wished you had.

You looked away, ignoring the shivers of anxiety that had run down your spine and focused on Eva’s words instead, hoping Jiho would go away and you wouldn’t have to talk to him. You’ve already asked him to take your picture out of his exhibition and you didn’t feel like clarifying anything else to him. You’d naively hoped you could go on living without ever having to admit to him that you’d genuinely thought his interest in you was romantic. It seemed so obvious and so stupid now.

Jiho, however, didn’t think you and him owed each other any serious conversations, and that was why he strolled up to you, giving Eva a smile – that she, of course, reciprocated – and then asking to talk to you for a moment. He couldn’t understand the flash of terror in your eyes; he just wanted to borrow you for a quick chat.

You’d have paid good money to get Eva to tell you that you couldn’t leave with Jiho, but she merely nodded, giving you a suggestive smile as if to say that she supported whatever was going on between you and the photographer. Little did she know…

“I should really be back soon,” you told Jiho as he guided you towards the quieter—and emptier—part of the gallery. “With all of these exhibitions happening, I need to know what our plan is.”

“I won’t keep you long,” he said. “Are you free this weekend? I’ll be staying in the city for a little longer after my exhibition and I was hoping we could hang out, organize ourselves a little photoshoot. What do you say?”

You squeezed your lips shut as you tried to find a way to reply to this.

“I don’t think so,” you ended up saying. No point to toy around and pretend. “I have plans.”

You didn’t have the slightest clue what you were going to do this weekend, but staying home was far better than hanging out with Jiho. He wasn’t a bad person – he was actually rather nice, all things considered –  but you had an entire list of people whom you’d have rather spent your weekends with.

“Oh,” Jiho’s tone was flatter now. “Well, will you, at least, make it to the opening night of the exhibition?”

“I, uh—”

“W-why—look, I can’t help but feel like there’s something you haven’t told me,” he said and your heart picked up speed. “If you don’t want to come, you don’t have to, but I’d appreciate it if you respected me enough to say it straight to my face without making up excuses.”

The way he put it made you feel like you were the one who’d hurt him by dismissing his attempts to spend more time with you and, perhaps, in a way, you really have been disrespectful to him as you tried to deal with your own emotions – but you still couldn’t ignore the fact that you had all of these emotions to deal with precisely because Jiho hadn’t been clear enough about his intentions from the beginning.

“I’m sorry,” you said, inhaling deeply. You didn’t want to give in to your guilt – misunderstandings were, usually, a mutual problem – but you knew it wouldn’t be fair to him if you didn’t fully explain yourself, no matter how dreadful the thought of him mocking you was. “I didn’t mean to be flaky. It’s just… I-I guess I just don’t want to be a part of, uh, you know, whatever you’re doing with those girls.”

Jiho’s eyebrows furrowed. “What do you mean? I’m not doing anything with any girls. If, uh—if you mean the people I’ve photographed, then they are all friends.”

“Am I your friend?”

“Yeah, of course.”

You nodded, the words spilling out of your mouth far easier than you’d have expected them to, “well, see, I had assumed I was something more.”

Jiho blinked. “W-what do you mean?”

“Well, you know,” you said, anxious for him to understand even though it was clear that, unless you explained what you meant properly, he would not, in fact, know. “I thought you and I were more than a, uh, network connection. Or what do you call this? But it’s fine. I misunderstood your intentions, I guess that’s my bad. It’s just a little weird for me now.”

He could clearly see that it wasn’t a little weird. You looked about as uncomfortable as it was possible to get.

“Oh,” Jiho said. You avoided his eyes but his gaze remained firmly set on you. “I—well, I can’t say I didn’t suspect that this might have been the case. I’m sorry if my intentions weren’t clear from the start. I’m always very… accomodating. That sounds wrong—I just… I’ve been doing this for a while, as you know, and the girls I usually hang out with don’t expect anything but business from me. They’re my friends, of course, but they’re also my source of inspiration most of the time. You are, too.”

He sounded nice. A lot nicer than you’d have expected from him and, all of a sudden, you didn’t understand why you’d dreaded to see him so much. Jiho wasn’t trying to purposefully lead you on and trick you into posing for his pictures – but, then again, he could have been more professional about this and actually ask for your consent before using your picture in his exhibition – he just didn’t think you’d be this much of an outsider in his world. Sure, it was wrong of him to assume you’d understand what he wanted from you but, at the same time, it wasn’t exactly right for you to assume the exact opposite, either.

“It was a misunderstanding,” you said again. “I guess, both of us should have been more open with our expectations, right?”

“Yeah,” Jiho chuckled, glad to hear your voice sound lighter. “I guess we should have. For the sake of this, I do have to mention that I value our friendship. I think you’re very interesting. But – and I know now that I should have mentioned this as soon as I met you – I’m not interested in dating. The real kind of dating, I mean.”

You didn’t know what other kind there was, but you chose not to question that right now, when it was starting to look as though you’d resolve this with little to no further damage to your dignity.

“That’s fair,” you said. “I have to mention, then, that I’m really only interested in exclusive relationships. I guess we’ve run into a bit of a conflict of interests here.”

Jiho shrugged his shoulders.

“Not necessarily,” he said, “I’m not holding you back from being involved with other people romantically. If anything, I encourage that. You look really beautiful when your eyes glitter with affection and even though I know we—” he stopped suddenly, choosing to word it differently, “uh, I don’t think I was ever the reason why your eyes were glittering like that, to be honest with you. I’d say your heart was always someplace else.”

“Hmm,” you cleared your throat. You’d just started to feel more comfortable but all of that backfired when you noticed the subtle smile on his lips. As if he knew something about your life that you haven’t told him about. “Well, anyway, I don’t regret meeting you per se. I regret the circumstances. But you’ve taught me a lot and I’m grateful for that, I just—”

“Listen, here’s what we’ll do,” he cut you off, recognizing the dismissal in your voice and knowing that you were about to attempt to get rid of him. “I won’t bother you to the point of you getting a restraining order against me, alright? That’s not really my style. But let’s not throw this to waste. Like I said, I genuinely value every friendship I develop and ours is no exception. So, if you decide you’re comfortable enough to meet up with me again, then let me know, yeah?”

You watched him for a moment, not sure why he was almost desperate to keep you in his life.

“Why?” you finally asked just to truly get everything off of your chest. “I-I mean, you know a lot of people. Plenty of girls. I’m nothing special, w-what’s the point?”

“That’s exactly the point,” Jiho replied. “All of these people – as you’ve said – are important to me. And you’re one of them, I already told you. And, who knows, maybe in the future, we’ll find a way to work together. I don’t want to lose that opportunity.”

“Work together?” you raised your eyebrows. “You mean in terms of photography, of course?”

“I mean anything,” he said with a smile and then continued before you could ask anything else, “so, think about it, okay? We don’t have to be the best of friends but we don’t have to be strangers, either.”

“Hmm.”

“I’ll let you get back to work,” Jiho said then, understanding that you biting your lip was a signal that you didn’t have much else to say. “But I’ll still be waiting for you at the opening night of my exhibition, so… think about that, too.”

He left with a wave and you knew the quick movement of his hand lasted about as long as his memory about this would last. There was no way he’d ever notice you missing in a crowd of beautiful people that would come to his exhibition.

Perhaps the day of his exhibition was really going to be the day when you finally called in sick, or, perhaps, you’d convince Eva to give you cleaning duty and then spend the whole day in the basement below the gallery, cleaning old frames and sneezing from the dust. Or, as unlikely as that was, perhaps you’d actually step on your pride and show up to see Jiho’s photographs one more time.

When you got home that night after work, all you really wanted was to flop down on your bed and sleep until it was morning again, but, apparently, it was nearly impossible to call it a night at six o’clock in the evening because your roommate – who’d apparently gotten home about twenty minutes before you did – popped his head out of his bedroom, letting you know that he’d ordered take-out because neither of you had gone grocery shopping and thus began a conversation that changed the course of the rest of your night.

“Great,” you replied, still a little awkward after you got to see a much deeper side of him last night at Jackson’s studio. “You could have texted me, I’d have bought some food on my way home.”

“I didn’t realize until I got here,” Jaebum replied. “And by that time, you were probably in your car on your way back already. It’s fine, though. I ordered enough food to eat leftovers for breakfast tomorrow.”

“Alright,” you said. “Let me add a reminder to my phone so I could go shopping tomorrow.”

“I’ll do it,” he offered. You took your shoes off in the hallway and gave him a look. He smiled in response, “what? I’ve brought food before. Several times, even.”

“Well, yes, but lately, you’ve been spending your nights at Jackson’s studio,” you pointed out carefully. “I didn’t expect you to—”

“Well, the song is more or less done. I’m not adding anything else to it right now,” Jaebum cut you off. “I’m working on, uh, something else right now, but there isn’t much I can do without the lyrics.”

“You said writing went well when you were with Jackson.”

“Yeah, but not for this song,” he explained and you tried to ignore the sudden rush of adrenaline when you realized that you and Jaebum were having a legitimate conversation about his music. “I need a different atmosphere for this song. And, either way, I’m not writing tonight. Just can’t do it. So, I’m all free.”

You smiled, the exhaustion you’d been feeling slowly fading away. “Was this a subtle offer to hang out?”

“It was,” he said, nodding his head in the direction of his room as an invitation for you to come in. Obviously, you were not going to pass on the—unexpected—offer.

“Okay,” you were still smiling, your heart hammering inside of your chest as you walked towards his bedroom. Jaebum moved away from the door to let you inside. “So, this song you’re working on – what’s it about?”

You took a leap asking this – you knew that – but instead of changing the topic – even though he did want that – Jaebum just shrugged his shoulders, closing the door of his room and plopping down on his bed.

“Love,” he said, patting the spot next to him as an indication for you to sit down. “But, then again, all songs are, aren’t they?”

You shrugged your shoulders, sitting down on his bed next to where he was laying. “You tell me, you’re the songwriter of this household.”

“I guess if you’re looking for love, you can find it in any song,” he hypothesized. “I don’t want this song I’m working on to be about the kind of love that you have to look for, though. I want this song to be full of obvious love. I want the song to be love.”

You couldn’t help the swelling feelings in your chest as you listened to him talk. This had to be the first time you heard him open up about his songs—and the process that went into creating them—in real life, not just over texts at four in the morning when both of you were beyond exhausted and had not met each other in real life yet.

“Do you always try to focus on one emotion when writing songs?” you wondered.

Jaebum considered this for a moment, his eyes focused on the wall of the room in front of him. He wasn’t looking at you but you didn’t really need him to – for now, it was enough that he was teling you about something that was so meaningful to him. Although you’d have loved to see the sparkle in his eyes that appeared whenever he got excited about something, you considered yourself lucky enough to take a quick dip into the endless oceans that were his mind.

“I guess I do,” he finally answered. “When there are so many emotions inside of you, you can’t help but try to choose one and hold onto it when you write, otherwise, you’ll only create chaos. There’s nothing wrong with that, of course, but I want my music to, uh… to mean something, I guess? I want the lyrics to be deep but easy to understand, however paradoxical that sounds.”

“Well, anything’s possible when you put your mind to it,” you said and earned a look from Jaebum – a hopeful one. It was a look that unleashed even more butterflies into your stomach that was already full of fluttering wings as it was. “And I think you’ve done great so far. The song I heard yesterday – “Don’t Touch Me” – I think it had the right amount of depth while still being relatable.”

“Yeah,” Jaebum looked away from you. “I worked on the lyrics for that one for a long time.”

“Do you…” you started to say, but then realized you lack the courage to finish your question. Talking about something as personal as a song about his ex-girlfriend might have broken Jaebum out of this laid-back state he seemed to have been in and the last thing you wanted was for him to kick you out of the room for prying too much. “Nevermind.”

“Hey, you can’t do that,” he warned, sitting down properly, and then checking the time on his phone. “The delivery guy clearly got lost with our food. The least you can do is finish your questions while we wait. Otherwise, we’ll just sit here in silence.”

“Are you saying you’ll stop answering my questions once the food gets here?”

“Absolutely. I’ll be too busy eating to talk.”

You smiled. “Alright, well, you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to, but—”

“I’ll try to,” he said, cutting you off. The look in his eyes was reassuring and the electric shocks you felt signified that the connection you’ve felt with Jaebum before you met him wasn’t fictitious. It was there, it had just been hiding underneath your daily arguments and frustrations. God, you were so glad to feel those sparks again.

“Okay,” you said. “Do you always write songs from personal experience?”

“I do,” Jaebum answered. This time, he didn’t look away from you.

You felt like he was telling you this because he knew you wanted to know. It was obvious that he usually felt great discomfort when he was forced to talk about his music, but it seemed as though he had finally realized that the reason why you were so curious to know more about this was because you genuinely enjoyed hearing him talk about this. So, he did. He talked about himself because that was what you wanted and, with a surprising jolt of his heart, Jaebum realized that he wanted to give you what you wanted. All that you wanted.

“I don’t think I could write songs about abstract concepts,” he revealed then. “Or maybe I could. But they’d lack the emotion I seek. They’d lack the depth.”

“So, Suji,” you said, speaking the word that made him inhale sharply. “Why did you choose to write about her?”

He looked down. “You can’t tell?”

“Well, I got the general idea why from the song itself,” you said. “But I’d like to hear you explain it.”

“There’s not much to explain, really,” he said, scanning the tiles of the floor of his room and then suddenly shooting his gaze to you. “It’s kind of like you never explained to me what happened between you and Jiho.”

You blinked, surprised to hear him turn the topic around. “I, uh—okay. I’ll talk if you talk.”

Jaebum chuckled lightly at this.

“Okay, that’s fair,” he said and then, after another deep breath, continued, “I’m usually working on multiple songs at the same time. Well, not full songs, but… verses for them. Lines. Sometimes certain words just come to me at the most random moments, so I write them down and then I use them when I’m trying to put a song together. Every day, I might find myself writing different lyrics and it all depends on what I’m feeling at that moment. It depends on the strongest emotion. And, of course, ever since I left Suji, I’ve just felt angry. Bitter. And living with these emotions meant writing about them.”

“I heard that,” you admitted, your voice small. “All of that. The most surprising thing to me, I guess, was that the song didn’t have an ounce of love in it, and yet it was still undeniably a love song. Somehow, it was an almost hopeful love song.”

This brought a smile to his face. “Those who are in love have a tendency to see love everywhere.”

It was you who looked away this time.

“Anyway, I had no love left in me anymore,” Jaebum continued after you didn’t say anything. “Not towards her, at least.”

“You focus on one emotion when you write,” you said, “but maybe you put more emotions into your work without realizing it. Maybe you were expressing your anger and bitterness, but you ended up expressing your hope of moving on with your life without her. Maybe, you accidentally ended up expressing your hope of loving someone again, too.”

“Maybe,” he agreed, still smiling. You weren’t looking at him so he took this time to watch you before finally speaking again, “so, what about Jiho?”

You sighed. “Oh, that story is far less inspiring and, uh, it lacks the romantic aspect, too. It’s just plain embarrassing, actually.”

“How so?”

“Well, turns out,” you exhaled slowly, “Jiho never actually had any romantic interest in me. He was looking for a… I don’t know, a networking connection, I guess? Just someone he could photograph. Someone with an attractive enough of a face that he could invite to his shows.”

You could tell by the way Jaebum’s gaze lingered on you for a few seconds before sliding to the floor that his thoughts had wandered someplace else. Perhaps, he was remembering the question he’d asked you when you and him were watching a movie and he’d insisted that five days was enough for a person to understand if they had feelings for someone. Back then, you told him that Jiho had to have feelings for you or otherwise, he wouldn’t have taken you out this many times but, clearly, that was not the case at all.

“Sorry,” Jaebum spoke then, his eyes on you again. “How did you find out?”

“Oh, that’s the fun part. I got to his pre-show that Friday night,” you said, “and there was a ton of girls there. Not just in attendance, but as models in his exhibition, too. Every single picture contained a girl and she was photographed in the exact same way as I was—”

“Wait,” he stopped you suddenly. “He used a picture of you?”

Jaebum sounded weirdly offended when he said this.

“Y-yeah, he wanted to,” you replied. “But I asked him to take it out of the exhibition. I don’t know, maybe it was stupid. He never asked for my permission to use it and it’s almost like I would have been fine with him using the picture, as long as I was the only girl he’d photographed. I asked him to take the picture out as soon as I found out I wasn’t actually the only one. Naïve, right? Stupid, too.”

“Not at all,” he disagreed, surprising you. For a moment, you almost had to double-check if this was really the same person who’d teased you for dating someone who wasn’t brave enough to kiss you. “You had obviously thought he was seriously into you. Actually, he’s kind of a dick for not making his intentions clear.”

“I confronted him about it,” you admitted. “He apologized and asked to stay in touch but, honestly, each time I think of him, I just get so incredibly embarrassed as if he’s leading me on and laughing at my little-girl expectations behind my back. Even though this was a genuine misunderstanding. Or so I hope.”

Jaebum nodded, humming in response but staying quiet otherwise. He was thinking about something again and, even though you already had trouble guessing what he was thinking about under normal circumstances, this time, he looked even more indecipherable than usually.

It seemed so unexpected that Jaebum had taken your side instead of teasing you but you couldn’t explain why you were expecting him to be mocking. Jaebum may have been rude to you a handful of times in the past, but the longer you lived with him, the more he proved himself to actually be understanding and even compassionate.

“No offense,” Jaebum started to say, “but it didn’t seem to me as though you were very infatuated with Jiho, either. I-I mean, the conclusion of this whole thing is bad, I can understand why you wouldn’t want to talk about it, but I’m just getting the feeling that finding out what he really wanted from you helped you free yourself from some sort of constraints.”

“Constraints,” you repeated.

“Yeah,” he shrugged his shoulders. “Like you were forced to keep seeing him against your wishes. Maybe because you thought you owed him your time because you thought he liked you. Or maybe because you just wanted to be with someone, but it wasn’t necessarily him – and there’s nothing wrong with that. It just seems to me like finding out the truth about Jiho freed you, essentially. Now you have fewer things to worry about.”

“Because I didn’t really want to be with him,” you said.

“Right,” Jaebum confirmed. “But that’s just what I think. Sorry if it’s—”

“No,” you said, swallowing with great difficulty because your body was suddenly overcome with a thick wave of hotness. “No, I think you’re right.”

You didn’t think he was right. You knew he was. Days leading up to Jiho’s pre-show at the restaurant, you were trying to come up with a way to let him know that you couldn’t continue seeing him because your thoughts – and your heart – were elsewhere. They were right here, in this room, in the hands of the person who understood all of your emotions without having to hear you voice them.

“So, how come?” Jaebum asked, distracting you and making your heart syncopate its beating to the sound of his voice. “How come you still went on those, let’s call them dates, with Jiho even though you didn’t really want to be with him?”

Lifting your eyes to meet his, you smiled briefly. “You can’t tell?”

He responded to your smile with one of his own – recognizing his words from your lips – and then shook his head. “There’s no way I was right about everything.”

“You were,” you said, completely unprepared to embrace the fact that Jaebum must have known that the only reason why you went out with Jiho was because you were jealous. Jaebum could have had any girl he wanted and you were looking to prove a point that you could get yourself a guy, too. “You were, surprisingly, right on point.”

Instead of gloating about that, Jaebum just nodded in acknowledgment and then said something you’d never expected to hear him say, “you know, I’ve never tried to explain to you why I texted Suji that night it all started.”

Surprised to hear him address this topic without you basically forcing him into talking about it, you blinked a few times. “Y-you…  you haven’t.”

You could remember Jaebum opening up to you about his past with his ex-girlfriend – all so you wouldn’t get in touch with her – but his reasons for texting her that night were about as vague as it was possible. He said he’d felt lonely. He said he’d lacked self-control. But back then, all of the things he’d said seemed more than enough. Jaebum had a hard shell and just this one crack that revealed this tiny bit of information about him was more than enough for you at the time.

You knew him better now; and all because he wanted you to know him better.

“Would you like me to?” Jaebum asked. “Explain, I mean.”

Unable to speak, you nodded.

“I was jealous,” he said simply.

You weren’t sure if the rapid beating of your heart was caused because he’d just mimicked your reasons for going out with Jiho or because Kiera had suspected that Jaebum got back together with his ex because you met Jiho.

“Why?” you dared to ask.

“Back then, I thought I was jealous because you had a chance at an actual relationship while I didn’t,” he said, “so, even though I knew I could never work with Suji, I just called her because she was the closest thing to a relationship I’ve ever had. All along, I was just trying to prove a point.”

“Funny,” you said with a straight face. “That was exactly the reason why I went out with Jiho.”

“I know. That’s why I guessed that,” Jaebum smiled. “You and I are more similar than we sometimes realize.”

“You said ‘back then,’ though,” you pointed out, unable to focus on your similarities with him when you were scratching the surface of something potentially life-changing. “Do you… not think that that was the reason anymore?”

Jaebum was hoping you’d notice and yet continuing to speak proved to be more difficult than he’d expected.

“I don’t,” he said. “I do think I was jealous, but I don’t think I was jealous of something as abstract as the fact that my roommate was capable of starting a relationship while I wasn’t.”

“Yeah, you’re not into anything that’s abstract in any way.”

“That’s right, I’m not.”

Shakily, you asked, “what were you jealous of, then?”

“I don’t know,” he concluded, his honest eyes resting on yours. “I can’t seem to find an explanation that would make sense. I just know that there was some jealousy-induced emotion there that forced me to dial Suji’s number after months of avoiding her and the strength of that emotion could not have come from something… abstract.”

You weren’t sure if you felt relieved or disappointed to hear his explanation suddenly turn vague again, but this was far more than you’d expected from him so, with a small smile, you nodded.

“This wasn’t really an explanation,” you pointed out. “You still didn’t give me a proper answer why you texted her.”

“Maybe. But that’s because I don’t have the answer myself,” he said, “so, I gave you all I have.”

He’s never voluntarily revealed all of his emotions before, especially not when he wasn’t sure what he was feeling in the first place. You couldn’t even begin to explain your joy to hear him talk so openly but you had to physically restrain yourself from reaching over and wrapping your arms around him in an uncharacteristic display of affection again.

God, it seemed as though your life had suddenly turned into one long period of desperately wanting to touch Jaebum but restraining yourself because, just like he couldn’t find an explanation for his jealousy, you couldn’t find a possible outcome of your embrace that wouldn’t tear down all that you and him have been trying to build after your last fight. There were so many things that could have gone wrong at any moment and, right now, you weren’t ready for any kind of change.

“Thank you,” you said slowly, wanting to remain in this moment—your gazes locked in an embrace your bodies weren’t brave enough for—forever. “I appreciate that.”

Jaebum nodded and was about to add something else when the doorbell rang. For a moment, both of you were confused – far too lost in the little world inside of your apartment – but then Jaebum realized.

“Ah, the take-out,” he spoke, getting off the bed. “About time.”

He left the room to open the door and that broke the spell inside of the bedroom but that was okay. Everything was okay. Because you saw the smile on his face when he left. Because you knew he was just outside of the bedroom and you could hear how fast he tried to pay for the delivery so he wouldn’t have to stay out in the hallway for longer than it was necessary.

And, even though you and him wouldn’t talk about anything as deep as this when he’d be back, even though you and him wouldn’t pour your hearts—and feelings—out to each other tonight, even though you wouldn’t get to touch him in ways that you’ve wanted to, everything was okay. Everything was okay because you knew he’d be here with you, smiling at you from across the bed again.

  chapter directory

[wolfpawn]

Life is a Game of Risks, Chapter 41

Chapter Summary - Alexianna starts her therapy, leading to a revelation.

TRIGGERS - Past domestic abuse, Past emotional abuse, Past sexual abuse.

Previous Chapter

Tags: @damalseer​​ @hiddlesbitch1​​ @winterisakiller​​ @theoneanna​​

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For the next few weeks after the argument and the reconciliation, Tom and Alexianna were not intimate in their relationship, but they still had nights where Tom stayed over. Both tried getting Alexianna to speak about her issues, but words always failed to describe the feelings in her head and as a result, frustrated her and confused Tom.

She went for her initial therapy session, where the counsellor spoke to her about different things; her childhood, her accident, Jonathan and Lily were the major points, none were in great detail, just what happened. He said he would talk more with her when she came again, but that he was trying to get a general picture. She left that session feeling okay. Nothing overly painful was brought up and she felt he seemed to realise that the issue was not solely Jonathan as the last one had focused on, so she felt she could work more with him.

Tom was pleased that she was satisfied with her counsellor and insisted on her taking a warm relaxing bath and that he would cook dinner that night afterwards. When he asked her when she was to go again, he was not surprised when she said that the counsellor, Mr Barrows, said that she would need at least a session a week until she felt otherwise.

*

Tom was sitting down to a script when his phone rang. Seeing it was Alexianna, he smiled and pressed the answer button. ‘Hello.’ There was no response. ‘Lexi?’

‘Tom.’

Tom sat up straight. ‘Alexianna, what’s wrong?’ He asked, scared to hear her crying. ‘Lexi?’

‘I...Are you free?’

‘Of course, Darling. Give me half an hour.’

‘Please.’

‘I’ll be there soon, okay?’

‘Okay.’

‘I’m coming, just give me a little bit.’ He hung up the phone and rushed to get himself ready, wondering what had caused Alexianna to be so distraught. He drove to her apartment complex and parked his car in her allocated spot before rushing up the steps to her home. When he entered, he could hear Lily singing to a DVD in her room and in the living room, was Alexianna, crying into her Stitch soft toy that he had gotten her. ‘Lexi?’

‘Tom.’

He rushed over and held her to him. ‘What happened?’

‘I went to my next appointment today.’

‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

‘I didn’t want to bother you.’

‘Well, that was foolish. So what did today have that made you so upset?’

‘Tom...I am so broken.’

‘No, you’re not as broken as you think you are. You are just seeing small cracks, the same as most people have.’ He kissed her head. ‘Talk to me.’

‘When my father left, he never came back.’

Tom knew that. Alexianna’s father saw nothing of her or Dan when he divorced their mother. He paid their school fees and gave sums of money here and there for other things, but he never actually saw his children. Something that, to this day, he could not understand how Alexianna was not bothered by. Apparently, he was wrong. ‘I know.’

‘I...Why didn’t it bother me?’

‘You always said that he was the one missing out.’

‘I...then the same with Lily and Jonathan.’

‘Lexi, he is a pig, he does not deserve to be in her life. Look how happy she is, she does not need him. The same as you did not need your father, some men bring no positive to your life so forget about them.’ Tom decided to state that immediately, lest Alexianna feel any modicum of guilt in her current state and try and initiate contact with her ex-husband, a man she would never want in her life otherwise.

‘But I continued the cycle.’

‘No, Lexi, he left you did not push him, though I wish you had the honour.’

‘But am I damaging Lily, I thought I was okay…’

‘You are not doing anything of the sort to that little girl. She is upstairs singing Bryan Adams watching her horse movie and is so incredibly happy.’

‘Some people would classify Bryan Adams as failing her.’ Alexianna joked, causing Tom to laugh. ‘I just...I want her to be more than me.’

‘What is wrong with her being like you? A strong woman, who follows her own path and does not let the setbacks force her down. In one way, she will be stronger than you, because unlike you, she will have you in her corner, you didn’t have Marie. And she will have me and Uncle Daniel, not to mention my mum and her aunts and cousin, that girl will be incredibly supported.’ He promised.

‘I...I figured it out.’

‘Which part?’

‘Why I was bothered.’

‘Okay?’

‘I was jealous, not intentionally, I didn’t even think of it, it’s because you wanted her and my father did not want me, and I realise now, that I was risking her not having something brilliant because of it. I love seeing the bond between you, I love how the smile she has when she sees you. But it opened up something in me, something I have never actually thought about and repressed and then when you did that, and with everything going on with you in Lily’s life, my mind correlated it to my father not bothering with me and my brain construed it all wrong and resulted in the world’s most stupid meltdown.’

Tom held her against him more. ‘Your feelings are not stupid, and the fact you could not explain them shows this was not something you wanted to have, but something you could not control.’

‘Thank you for understanding.’

‘How was it overall?’

‘Fine.’

‘Lexi?’

‘I have never been more exhausted in my life. I feel so drained, but not in a bad way and then I felt guilty for what I did with us…’

‘Shh, it was a step in the right direction. I think you know you needed this.’ Tom commented. ‘What did he say about Jonathan?’

‘He didn’t feature much. Just asking about the men in Lily’s life because I said I needed to get to the bottom of that particular event.’

‘Okay.’

‘I...I was thinking, and I realise, that I am completely over what he did, I...I am indifferent. Not angry, not upset, I don’t care when I talk about him or anything. But I still don’t want to mention him too much around Lil’s. Not yet.’

‘Of course.’ Tom bit his cheek.

‘We will have to tell her someday, I know that.’

‘So do I, but I don’t want to.’ Tom confessed.

‘Dad’s try to protect their children, you don’t want her hurt.’

‘The idea of that kills me. Her knowing that he did not want her.’

‘Mommy?’ A voice called from the top of the stairs.

‘Shit, Tom, I can’t let her see me like this.’ Alexianna sat up properly, fully aware of her current state from crying.

‘I have this.’ He winked. ‘Yes, princess?’

‘DADDY!!!!!!!’

‘I’m going to count to five and then I am going to go up there, and gobble you up.’ There was a giggle. ‘One.’

‘Ah!’

‘Two.’

‘Run Lils.’ Her mother giggled.

‘Three.’ Tom rose to his feet and headed for the door. ‘Four.’

‘No, Daddy.’

‘Five. I’m going to get you, Lily.’

‘Mommy!’ Lily’s footsteps rushed across the ceiling above her as Alexianna smiled at the sheer happiness in her daughter’s voice.

With her day’s revelations regarding herself voiced to Tom, Alexianna dried her tears and assessed. She had been so emotional when she realised why she felt as she did, but telling Tom and having him understand too, meant she felt truly as though an immense weight had been lifted from her shoulders. She knew it was cliche, but it did. The idea of making dinner made her all but gag, so instead, she just went on her phone and ordered a delivery.

When Tom and Lily came down the stairs, Tom checked how Alexianna was before bringing Lily into the room. Alexianna had washed her face a few times with cold water to lessen the puffiness, though her eyes were still red, but she still nodded for Tom to come in. When they walked in, she smiled lovingly.

‘Are you okay?’

‘Yes. Thank you, Tom.’

‘I am here for you, no matter what.’ He promised. ‘Thank you for talking to me about it, I know it is hard for you.’

She nodded. When the bell rang, Tom and Lily looked around. ‘Who wants Indian?’

‘That sounds good, right Lils?’

‘Korma!’

‘The boss has spoken.’ Tom chuckled.

After Lily was put to bed, Tom reading her the story, he walked back down the stairs to see Alexianna reading. ‘Did she go down?’

‘Of course.’ He smiled, sitting down beside her and curling her in against him. ‘I am so proud of you, did I tell you that? Having the strength to acknowledge something was not right, and asking for help, that is an incredibly brave thing to do and I am proud of you for doing it.’

‘I am so grateful you are still here. I don’t like feeling like I am pressuring you to be, but days like today, I really am so grateful to have you and I think part of my wanting to get through all of this is so I do not lose you because of it because that would crush me. I know that there is always a chance of this failing, I am not stupid, but I don’t want it to be because I would not attempt to communicate with you.’

Tom smiled lovingly at her. ‘Even if everything were to fall apart, I would still be here for both of you. That’s a big part of this, Lexi, knowing you for so long, us having a connection more than just this, that matters.’

Alexianna contemplated his words for a moment before leaning up and kissing him. Tom reciprocated which only caused her to become more passionate. Before long, she was straddling his hips, her body against his.

‘Lexi...we...bedroom.’ He sighed, loving the feel of her body against his., but he forced her back. ‘You need to tell me you’re in the right place in your head for this too. You are going through a lot right now, if you think you have to do this for me, you don’t.’

‘I want it.’ She confirmed. ‘Not because I feel I have to.’

‘Then bedroom.’ He ordered, she did not move, instead, she began to unbutton his shirt. ‘Lexi, what if your daughter comes down the stairs?’ He asked, trying to get her to focus.

‘Our daughter.’ She corrected.

Tom paused for a moment and looked into her eyes, seeing was she just trying to sidetrack him, but seeing the way she looked back at him, it was clear she meant it. Filled with elated joy, he flipped her around so she was with her back to the sofa and he was over her. ‘Fuck it.’

[deducingfangirlsofhell]

Paparazzi

Pairing: Implied:SherlockxReader, Eventual!SherlockxReader (There will be a part II)

Warnings: Cliff hanger, kidnapping, mentions of prostitution (not the reader), mentions of murder and violent/graphic scenes, and very creepy Moriarty.

______________________________________________

"That isn't fair!" How could he give you a 'C' when you did more work than everyone else? Even he admitted it was the best piece, and most supported article! But no- he gave you a 'C' because it had nothing to do with "current events". Because the brutal slaying of a prostitute doesn't seem to qualify. Does no one else think even they deserve some ink? 

"Your essay was supposed to be on a current topic, not the mutilation of a street-" That's where you drew the line.

 "So, if I had done the assassination of a diplomat, I would've gotten an 'A'?" You snapped. No one wanted to admit that they thought whoever killed people like her were "cleaning up the place". But that woman had a life, just like any other victim. How was her death any different, or less impactful on the world? She was someone's little girl, a sister, and a mother to two boys. But that's not how anyone else saw it, and that really burned you up inside. 

Almost sheepishly, he replied, "Yes." Now you wanted to tear his stupid office apart, but you knew it would do you absolutely no good. You'd handle how the general public saw the people working on the streets when you were an actual journalist. For now, you'd have to find away to fix your grade. Taking a deep breath to steady yourself, you carefully chose your words.

 "Can I fix this, in any way?" And that's the question that led you to start researching the one and only: Sherlock Holmes. If you could just get the story to make any other journalists' career- he'd fix your grade. How could you say no to such an opportunity? You couldn't, and that's what lead you to take the flat right below him at 221C Baker Street.

 The first few days were spent unpacking your new flat, enjoying tea with Mrs Hudson, and gathering any information you could on Sherlock Holmes, without actually talking to the man. Really, at first, you were just collecting photographs and clues on the man. Basically, you were his full time stalker that he never let sleep due to his 3 am violin jam sessions. He does understand the concept of sleep, does he not? Still, your sleep-deprived state didn't stop you from stalking him and John to crime scenes in your spare time, at least, it didn't when you still were. 

 John noticed you taking pictures along with all the other reporters and physically pulled Sherlock towards all of the reporters, everyone with their cameras flashing- nearly blinding both himself and Sherlock in the process -just to go off on you. In the process, though, you managed to meet Sherlock Holmes, and he was rather impressed with your stalking abilities. After two weeks of following him near everywhere, he'd had yet to notice you'd even came up more than once in his life. 

You didn't know if that was a compliment or a burn, but damn. Maybe you should've been a professional spy or something. After that, you'd attempt to get Sherlock to talk to you about his methods- to give you the insider scoop- but to barely an avail. It's not like you were going to give up, though. 

 "So, what was it like when you were a kid? Being a super-genius, and all?" You brought up once again, making him an afternoon cuppa, hoping the kind gesture would be reciprocated. 

 "It was fine." Is that literally how he replied to everything? 

 "Alright... how do you do it, then? Solve all those crimes? I want to know what 'deducing' actually is." You set the tea in front of him, sitting in John's chair, leaning in to listen. He must've been getting rather tired with your constant pestering, because he actually seemed to humor your question. 

"Do you want to know what deducing is, or are you asking how it's done?" You thought about the question for a silent moment. If you asked how it was done, the how would lead you to the what- just like a crime scene. How the crime was committed showed you what the main purpose of it was... then, you'd also be able to (maybe) pick up on subtle clues relating to Sherlock Holmes, himself... 

"How." You stated simply, and he eyed you carefully. He seemed to take an odd interest in your answer, because he actually looked like he would tell you! Your excitement had to have been clear, because it felt like a whole thunderstorm was whizzing throughout your body. Rain patterned against your ribcage, mimicking a heartbeat, lightning lit up your veins causing thunder to roar your lungs into an unsteady rhythm. 

"Okay," He agreed, standing up, "What can you tell about John Watson from this room?" He wasn't even going to explain to you what you should be looking for, first? Well, immersion is the best form of teaching... you looked around, part of you trying to sort out what was Sherlock and what was John. The fridge is what stuck out first. 

"He had to have once been in a violent field of work." You pretty much asked, not suggested. He looked at you oddly, trying to pick up on your train of thought. 

"He's a doctor, right now. Works in a clinic, and yet, I've never heard him complain about body parts in the fridge. So, he must have a bit of immunity built up to that gory stuff, right?" You tried, receiving a furrowed brow, half smile, and small head nod in return. So, you kept looking. 

 "Um, he's attracted to danger." You made an inference based on your last deduction, and his relationship with Sherlock. Yet, the detective seemed to be impressed by your skills. And from that point on, whenever you went up to 221B, you and the detective played a game he liked to call "Deductions". You preferred "The Game Sherlock Always Wins, But I Enjoy Nonetheless." 

 It was maybe a month after you and Sherlock began properly getting along that you turned in your completed piece on "Sherlock Holmes: A Mind Like No Other." Sherlock actually appreciated the title, and insisted you let him read it once it was graded. And how could you refuse him with his darling curls, sonorous voice, and eyes that could kill a person with their shimmering beauty? Actually, you were heading back to his flat to show him the pictures of your professor's face when he saw you'd actually manage to get the story on Sherlock Holmes. After you explained the situation with your original piece, Sherlock grew about an equal loathing of the man. It seemed you finally had met a person that hated the politics of police work as much as you did. 

On your way, however, you heard something in an alleyway that was known to be were "professional dates" picked up johns. Most people would've ignored the sounds of struggle that were atypical for the area, not caring what happened to a street whore... then again, as Sherlock liked to say, you were not most people. By the time you made it to the alleyway, she was already dead, holding pieces of her own intestines in a futile last attempt to survive, and a blonde man stood over her, seeming rather bored with what just happened- not a speck of blood on him. You tried to snap a photo, but none of them showed any identifiable markings... an idea struck you. 

Quickly, you turned to a woman a few steps away who was carrying a coffee, and managed to exchange the cup for a twenty. Once the man made it to the mouth of the alley, he was immediately crashed into, scalding coffee drenching his white tee and leather jacket. You gasped like this wasn't an intentional thing, and quickly began profusely apologizing. You looked into his eyes, and recalled every romcom, girl-in-love look you could, plastering it onto your own face. His eyes were a dangerous shade of blue, and he had a scar carved out of part of his face, over his left eye. If it weren't for the scar, actually, he would be rather attractive. 

"I am so, so sorry about that... I-I don't have any cash on me, but... maybe you could give me your information, and w-we could arrange a way for me to pay for your dry cleaning? M-Maybe pay you back for the, heh, c-coffee fiasco?" You tripped over your words as much as possible, bringing any information that could help you look more love-stricken up. Unsurprisingly, your favorite detective was at the forefront of your mind. The waves in his ocean-coloured eyes narrowed as he pulled out a little notebook and a pen, seemingly a bit skeptical about you. 

"Uh, yeah, sure... sounds great.." He scribbled down his name, then his number, his attention still on the notebook as he tore it out and you lifted your camera up, flash on, this time. You quickly snapped your hand out to grab the paper, the flash blinding the Goliath of a man for a long enough moment for you to begin sprinting the two blocks back to Baker Street. You could hear him growl behind you, before beginning to chase you. Three years on track team definitely never paid off anymore than it did in that moment. Making it to Baker Street was a blessing, and you nearly tripped over the steps, you were going so fast. You tried opening the door to 221B, finding it was locked. You could almost sense the murderer nearing, and you started banging wildly on the door. 

"SHERLOCK! LET ME IN, PLEASE!" The door swung open downstairs, at almost an identical time as the detective's did.

"Hello, Darling." A smooth Irish accent welcomed. This wasn't Sherlock, obviously not, but he did look awfully familiar. The man behind you chuckled, a sickening sound. 

"Nice to see ya, Jim." The man behind you was definitely British, but also seemed to know the man in front of you. The name stuck out as something Sherlock had told you, though... Jim Moriarty. You were most definitely screwed. 

 "Now, now, Sebby- you knew she was on to you. Though, that little rouse she used was awfully smart~." The raven haired-madman in front of you purred, freezing you in place as his index finger caressed your jaw.

"I'm going to have so much fun with you, pet." He whispered heavily into your ear while the other jabbed you in the neck. The last thing you could remember was everything turning black, and a lunatic giggling jumbled up with the words, "So... much... fun."