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littlemisslipbalm · 3 years

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“you make me so angry sometimes”

idk if this gif makes sense, but i feel like it will if you read the story, it just gives me that vibe.

A one shot I cooked up idk, it’s about Harry and a makeup artist on DWD, it’s quite angsty, idk how that happened, it’s also very long, idk how that happened either, maybe i do a part 2, maybe i don’t idk lmk. Feedback is appreciated, not proofread. REBLOGS help writers tremendously and i love reading whatever you write in the tags its my favorite thing!! Love yall and Merry Christmas!

Word Count: 17.7k | Warnings: ENEMIES to LOVERS! swearing, angst!, some anxiety -like self-doubt, yn being mean to harry kind of a lot, i dont remember, nothing too crazy, Nick Kroll?, lots of conversation

When she pictured herself as a makeup artist in Los Angeles, she hadn’t pictured exactly what she was doing right now.

She had expected doing gorgeous makeup for gorgeous actresses or doing wildly fun stuff like in Euphoria. And because of that she had worked her ass off to get where she was today. She had practiced for hours, worked countless hours for free, and networked to the cows came fucking home.

So why the fuck was she using tattoo-strength concealer to cover up the maybe 60 tattoos some asshole musician turned actor had all over?

Don’t Worry Darling was her first major film to work on so she couldn’t complain. She was happy to simply be there. Well she had been. The first day she had showed up 15 minutes early and had worn her favorite power suit she had. It was dark navy with a white lace long sleeve turtleneck underneath. She hoped to look fun but professional.

Hollywood was all about impressions, especially first ones, even when you’re the makeup artist. She had quickly learned that she was one of six makeup artists. One of them being the friend who had helped her get the job, Angie. Angie was like her surrogate mother in Los Angeles that she had met on her first film job for something much less high profile than Olivia Wilde’s second directing project. Her braided grey hair and fabulous jeans had drawn Y/N right in and they had connected instantly.

Since Y/N was deemed the most inexperienced by the head of the makeup department, she was relegated to easier jobs: assisting the other artists on main characters sometimes, mostly dealing with minor characters touch ups (and full make-up if she was lucky), and the job nobody wanted: tattoo coverage.

Harry Styles was one of the leads for the film and besides his minimal acting, everyone knew he was a worldwide rockstar. With the rock and roll life starting off as a popstar life at the ripe age of 16, he had amassed around 60 tattoos in the past decade. Impressive by her standard normally. She usually counted herself as an appreciator of tattoos and their art, finding them similar to makeup and the self expression that came with both forms. Especially since she had a few of her own, but when she walked into Trailer #6 and saw a good amount of Harry’s tattoos, she wanted to murder every artist he’d ever been to.

She had to make an inventory the first day of all of his visible tattoos when he was just wearing boxers. He had been friendly, trying to make conversation, but as the time wore on, they both grew tired and silent. She had to write down the location and a description of every tattoo and as he took off everything but boxers she grew more and more annoyed with his random and dumb tattoos. Some of them were amazing, the eagle, the anchor, the butterfly, and the ferns were probably her favorites. But some of them, she couldn't hold back her rolling eyes and annoyed expressions. The “Big” on his right big toe, a miniscule lock, almost everything on his inner left arm (the packers logo, Pingu, etc.)

She traces at the rose and the ship and then flips his arm out to reveal his inner arm to her gaze. “That is a big fucking bee.”

He snickers, “Y’like it?”

She ignores his question. “For god’s sake, someone is needle happy,” she said as she examined his left arm, taking note of every permanent drawing.

He shrugs his right shoulder, uninhibited by her prodding. “Dunno, beginning to regret some of them.”

“I would hope,” she mutters, scribbling on her paper the various ones she had just seen on his arm. Next was his ribcage ones.

He scoffs, “Oi, it’s not like you haven’t got any.”

“How would you-” She looks at him wide eyed.

“Right…” he takes his right hand and pushes her hair past her ear to reveal three little red line butterflies following the curve of her ear, “There. At least.”

She huffs and knocks his hand away from her. Her hair falling back into its place.

“Maybe some located in a few more intimate places I’m guessing from the red rushing to your cheeks right now.”

“Can you just let me do my job,” she says, not giving in to his teasing or sparing him a glance as she feels his intense gaze on her face. She was studying his left rib cage where a few cool tattoos happened to be.

“You at least have some taste or persuasive artists because not all of these are shit,” she speaks again after just the sound of her pen on the paper filled the trailer.

“Gee, thanks,” he laughs unamused and rolls his large green eyes.

She thought he had some of the biggest eyes she’d ever seen. But she also knew to keep that to herself because he’d either take it as a compliment and think she was noticing him too much or he’d take it as a massive insult and get her fired.

His right hand taps at his thigh, tapping a rhythm she didn’t care to pay any attention too. She just wanted to finish the stupid inventory of the stupid tattoos on this stupid man.

“Take those off,” she says to Harry, looking back at her clipboard again, filling up quickly with her notes.

He stands there, staring at her stubbornly. He was entirely bored with this exercise, especially since his company was some of the worst he’s ever had. She spares him a glance when she doesn’t notice any slipping off of the colorful sweatpants he’s wearing.

She arches a brow at him, her pen tapping impatiently against the paper. “Go on. Can’t imagine you want this to go on longer than it already has.”

He rolls his eyes again, slipping his thumbs into the waistline of the pants and tugging down. Simultaneously, he toes off the dirty vans he seemed to wear everywhere. The fabric pools easily and he steps out of them and discards them on the couch behind him. He’s actually wearing black briefs. She chooses not to notice anything further than that.

“Socks...can stay on,” She tries to say as he begins to peel one off. He stops midway and nods.

She flings his shirt to him, not needing to see his naked torso for another moment, “I know you’ve got some feet and ankle tats, but I also know that you won’t be wearing anything that will expose them. Thank your lucky stars that I don’t have to makeup your feet.”

He catches the shirt easily and slips his arms inside before tugging it quickly over his head and over his expansive shoulders. The ferns disappear out of sight.

“Well then we’re almost done then. Just got the knee ones -”

“And the tiger. That’s gonna be one son of a bitch,” she sighs and examines his legs, not bothering to crouch.

“What the actual fuck dude?” Her tone is exasperate and like she would rather be anywhere else than here.

“I’m sorry?” He sputters, hands on his hips and eyes bewildered.

“Yes. No. Oui. Non. Who are you?” She rubs at her eyes and shakers her head.

“S’a little rude.”

“You’re right,” she semi-rushes out at his serious tone, ready to apologize. When a grin spreads over his face and he chuckles under his breath she really wants to smack him upside the head. He was exhausting. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Thought it was funny at the time. Kind of think it’s even funnier now since it’s got you all mad.” He leans over her shoulder to look at her notes and when she glances at him unhappily he just looks smug.

“Alright,” she finishes the scribble of a description and clicks the end of her pen, “All done. You can get dressed. I’ll see you bright and early for tattoo makeup. It’s gonna take about an hour to do all this, just so you can mentally prepare for that.”

“It was nice to meet you,” he attempts at a friendly and professional farewell. “See you tomorrow…” he trails off as he watches her turn on her heel and walk out of the trailer door swiftly. The door swung shut and bounced a little bit in her wake.

Harry sighed and adjusted his clothes and hair in the mirror. After a moment he shakes his head, an even louder sigh escaping him.

“Good morning!” She greets happily, walking into the trailer without a knock. Well-rested and happy at least that she doesn’t have to just inspect a body, she looks around the trailer.

She realizes no one is there and she’s taken aback. First of all, if Harry wasn’t there then he shouldn’t have left his trailer unlocked. And second, he was fucking late, the fucking twat.

She grumbles, setting her coffee on the countertop. She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. “In through the nose, out through the mouth” she mutters. She knew this was a big opportunity and having a big star like Harry in her corner could make her career. She needed them to get off on a better foot today.

“Good form, I’d say relax the shoulders a little more,” the door swings open carrying the California twang-British accent that she would soon become all too accustomed to.

Harry points at her shoulders and narrows his eyes regarding her in the trailer. She offers a strained smile through the mirror and Harry sets down his personal things on the couch.

“Alright, well let’s get started shall we,” she smiles and turns to him, gesturing to the swivel chair next to her.

He nods, a twinkle in his eye as he regards her. He’s unsure of the tone and attitude she’s giving him today. She had been feisty yesterday, cordial at times, but mostly biting and witty. He had liked it. It had made the whole ordeal bearable whereas now she seemed to be laying it on a little thick.

“Just your hands and neck today,” she says, pulling out the makeup materials needed and a checklist of the tattoos she needed to make sure were invisible.

“Should only take..a little under an hour today. Just gonna remind you now though, other days we won’t be so lucky.”

Harry chuckles under his breath and rolls his head around his shoulders before sitting in the chair. “Were you tired yesterday?” He inquires.

“Why do you ask?” She throws a glance over her shoulder at Harry. He’s begun slipping off his sweatshirt and yawns as he does it.

“You seem different from yesterday and I’m just wondering which one is the real you.”

She continues working about the room and rolls her eyes to herself, “I’m always the real me. I come no other way, but this morning I woke up and thought ‘this is the job you’ve fucking wanted for ages, so stop being such a bitch so you don’t get fired, you prick’.” She pauses and turns to face Harry. “The ‘you prick’ was directed at me, that was still part of my thought,” she adds.

He throws his head back and laughs. Then he nods, still laughing lightly, “I get that. Sometimes I’m just so in my head and yesterday I was just so fuckin’ bored. Sorry if I got on your nerves.”

“Don’t mention it.” She waves her hand at him nonchalantly.

Then she moves to inspect his hands and notices the lack of rings, unlike yesterday when she had to make him take them off.

“You have amazing cuticles,” she notices and mentions without any pretences. Harry mutters his thanks, pursing his lips as he watches her work.

She stops her inspection and places the clipboard on the countertop in front of them.

“Could you take your necklaces off? I need to cover up half of the swallows and the years, for when you unbutton your shirt a bit.”

He wets his lips and nods, hands going to fiddle with the clasps behind his neck. He slips off one of the necklaces with ease, a yellow eye beaded necklace that he lays gently on the countertop next to the clipboard. Then he takes his cross and pulls it over his head, no clasp needed.

“Could I put some music on?” Harry asks after five minutes of Y/N working in silence and Harry only being able to stare either at himself, her work, or nowhere.

“I can,” she stops her work for a moment, “Can’t have you messing up the makeup before it sets. Otherwise I’d have to kill you.” Harry can’t be sure if she’s joking or not. Therefore, he was intent on not messing it up.

“Any requests?” She stands at the counter now, instead of seated on a stool working on Harry's left hand.

He shrugs, like he hasn’t got the faintest idea about good music. She refrains from rolling her eyes once again because she feels herself in a test. She wets her lips, sifting through different things in her Spotify and then lands on her playlist titled “it’s your song” named after Elton John’s song. It had some other musicians, a mix of Queen, Bowie, and more and she was sure she would pass the test.

She presses shuffle and She’s Always A Woman by Billy Joel begins to play over her laptop. Harry nods pleased and she wants to shake her head at him.

She can’t hold back the scoff though after a moment of going back to finishing his hand.

“What?” His British accent thickens with his annoyance growing.

“Nothing,” she chirps, intently putting the final touches on his wrist.

“Seriously. What?”

She stands and sets down the makeup. “Can you unbutton your shirt?” She made a note to herself that from now on she’d have to have him take his shirt off before setting to work because if his hands got messed up she’d have to start over. Thankfully he was already wearing a button up this morning.

He stares at her, offering no movement, just inquisitively waiting for her to respond to his original question.

She shuts her eyes, taking another deep breath and then bites at her lower lip. “It’s just...you’re so easy to read.” She fears adding anything else and moves towards him with the makeup hoping to encourage him to unbutton his shirt.

His right hand deftly pulls at the buttons as he regards her. His eyes are intent on her, she can see him clearly calculating her. Her green paisley button up tucked up into the back of her bra leaving a splay of her stomach. The semi-balloon sleeves cinched at the wrists leading to her slightly ringed hands. The oversized blue jeans that have no holes, just a tiny patch right next to the left pocket. The frayed ends of the pants laying over her rather pristine white old skool vans.

The Boxer fades in as she waits for him to finish the unbuttoning of the shirt. He’s still staring at her.

“Am I?” He finally inquires, voice pitched higher like he doesn’t believe her.

She gives him a serious stare and leans over him and adjusts the collar of his shirt. She adds paper towels to avoid makeup on his clothes.

“Yes!” She laughs, “And you don’t even think so, which is like...of course.”

He hums, tilting his head back as she sets to work on covering up the swallows. He wiggles his hands that now both rest on the arm chairs.

“I don’t see it.”

“Of course you don’t,” she glances at his face, their eyes meeting for a moment. “You’re Harry Styles. Everyone is in love with this image you created for yourself and it has just enough of your true self that people feel like they really know you, but you also maintain the illusion. So you think you’re this mysteriously amazing, not like the rest guy, but you are just like the rest of them. Obsessed with yourself and rich so you’re deemed eccentric rather than crazy for all the extravagant shit you do. So when you want me to play music and don’t offer any suggestions I know exactly what music I need to play for you to like me.”

“I feel like that last part says more about you than it does me,” he quirks a brow at her, straining his neck to look at her face as she continues to work.

She flushes, his response both better and worse than she expected. She had gotten a little carried away in her response and she had no idea why. She truly wasn’t one to go off on people so easily and especially not with someone she hardly knew, but something about Harry had her on edge. She was just thankful he hadn’t gotten mad at her response, instead he took it in stride. Further proving her point that he was extremely smart and did things purposefully and she saw right through it all.

She grumbles, “It says that all anyone has to do to get close to you is understand the smallest bit about you and you’ll let them in.”

“That is just so completely wrong, Y/N, I hate to break it to you.” It’s Harry rolling his eyes now, unable to move much more of his body as she continues painting on the concealer to remove his tattoos for the movie.

“Fine. Enlighten me on what I got wrong.”

Their argument had all but drowned out their music. They both did love this music and ironically if they would just shut their mouths, they’d probably like each other a lot more.

“Might as well,” he sighs. “First of all, my image is authentic and of course I don’t want to give myself all away. I enjoy my privacy and for everyone to truly know me I’d have to give that up. Which I’m not keen on. So, I regret to inform you but I am the same guy everyone is “in love with”. Second, I know I am a little self-involved, how else would I get here if I wasn’t constantly taking inventory of myself and reevaluating who I am. As a musician, I want to give as much of myself as possible or else it just feels inauthentic. And the extravagant thing, I can’t help that I like nice things and my job has allowed me to afford those things.”

He stops to take a deep breath and she’s working in stunned silence, in disbelief that Harry is even telling her any of this or that he’s spoken that much and so quickly. Wasn’t he notorious for speaking slowly with barely even a sentence worth of actual information. He sounds tired and frustrated, but also, surprisingly, sincere.

He continues, “The music thing. Maybe it was a test, but still it doesn’t mean I give everyone a mile when they say their favorite musicians match up with mine or something. I note that they either did their homework or might be an interesting person to get to know.”

“So which am I?” She widens her eyes.

“Obviously the second even if you’re also making it painfully clear that you don’t like me.”

“You’re smarter than I thought, Harry. I’ll give you that,” she smirks slyly, finishing up the bird coverage now.

He laughs. “Thanks,” he drawls out.

“And I admit that maybe you aren’t as easy to read as I made out, but I think we’re going to have to agree to disagree about the whole being your authentic self. I just don’t buy it. I can see your mind working constantly, you’re not one to just let yourself be free in public. And I’m not saying that’s a bad thing, I’m just saying, you shouldn’t pretend like that’s not what you’re doing.”

Her final thought leaves Harry silent. She pays no attention to his silence or at least she’s actively ignoring it. Instead she tunes back into the music that had gotten them back onto the wrong foot. This was going to be a long few months.

When she’s satisfied with her work, she has them sit there for thirty minutes to give it all time to set before Harry is off to hair and other makeup. They sit there listening to music. Neither of them have spoken again, except instructions from her and Harry’s hums of approval of songs.

Harry stands up after thirty minutes as she stays behind to pack up some items. Just as he’s about to step out of the door, he turns and calls her name.

“For the record, I don’t think you’re giving me a fair shot. You said yourself that you’re different every day. That every version of you, is you. So I hope you’ll give me the same allowance, every version of me is me. In this trailer, in my music videos, on tv, in interviews, in my free time. It’s all truly me.”

She bites her inner cheek as he ducks his head and exits the trailer, not allowing her any response.

“You’re late!”

“Meeting ran over with Nick and Olivia. Sorry,” Harry says as he begins to undress.

It’s the first day she has to cover all of his tattoos. It was going to take forever by all accounts. It had been two weeks since shooting had begun and she had gotten the simple hands and neck down to 45 minutes so she could only dread what his entire body would take.

“It’s fine,” she grumbles, knowing there wasn’t really anything else she could say about him coming late from a meeting with the director and producer.

Over the last two weeks, they hadn’t grown any fonder of one another. Not at all. They at least had gotten into a system though and she was grateful for that at least.

They showed up, Harry got in his chair, she set up the music, and they got to work. Harry would practice lines on some days and he’d tell her that before she turned on the music so there were no interruptions. Sometimes they talked about stuff on set or music or she’d give Harry his line when he was trying to be off script and forgot one. She wouldn’t classify it as pleasant, but they weren’t at each other throats like they were originally.

Trailer 6 had gotten a little homier as the weeks went by, too. Harry began leaving some of his stuff there and he started putting up silly drawings he would make while on set or polaroids people had taken with him while he was there. He tacked up napkins of restaurants that catered the set and wrote funny jokes and quotes on post it notes. His personal assistants sometimes brought in snacks while Y/N was still working and Harry always offered her some. They were usually healthy, but sometimes she’d eat some. Jeff, his manager, had also stopped by on occasion during his tattoo touch-ups that had become a thing after shooting days had grown longer.

On first meeting, Jeff had said, “Y/N? Harry mentioned you.”

She had turned to Harry with an arched brow and he had shrugged. When she looked back at Jeff she didn’t see Harry give Jeff one of the deadliest looks he could muster. She had grimaced and said “Well we spend enough time together for him to know my name. So thank god for that at least.”

They had all laughed and she had gotten back to work on Harry’s wrist.

Today, she needed Harry in his shorts. It was the first day of shooting where his character would be only in his boxers so she had to cover up all his visible tattoos. Olivia had told the makeup department they actually had to cover up his feet tattoos as well. She wanted him sockless in the scene and Y/N had groaned immediately when she made it to the trailer and Harry wasn’t already there.

“But please, for the sake of my job, strip, dude.” She says, arms crossed over her chest and leaning against the counter as she watched Harry set his things down. Her soft green striped cardigan is open, exposing the white tank top sitting underneath. Her bright green shorts hang loose on her, cinched at the waist and folded over once. Her white high top nike’s tap impatiently on the floor, waiting for Harry to get moving.

He nodded, truly feeling sorry for his tardiness, knowing today was a long day. He was anxious and tired. Acting was a different experience to music and he just was really trying his best.

As he began to take off his shirt, he laughed. His arms pulled the shirt over his head and when it popped out from beneath it, he repeated, “Strip, dude,” attempting to mimic her American accent.

He had practiced his American accent in front of her while running lines, but it had a 50’s drawl to it. His acting coach had been drilling him for weeks before shooting and he still liked to practice. The accent he had just down was far off from that and far off from hers too.

“Do not,” she warned.

“What?” He asks innocently and flutters his eyelashes.

She knows his game by now and she knows she should just ignore him. She knows this after fourteen days. She knows this after hours with him. She knows this, but then she’s opening her mouth and playing into his teases.

“Sorry, what’s a word you would know? Mate?” She tries for a British accent with the last word, knowing she can’t win this.

Harry snickers and scratches at his nose with his index finger before starting on taking off his pants. “You’re so Californian.”

“Thank you,” she chirps, moving to sit beside him now that he had settled.

“I like your shorts,” he muses, crossing his legs, likely a little cold.

She glances down at her cotton shorts that showed more of her thighs when she sat for a moment before returning her gaze to his left arm. The longest task of the day was this damn arm.

“Thanks,” she mumbles, “Wanted to be comfortable today. Knew it was gonna be long.”

A smile bubbles onto his face, his pink lips parting to reveal his shiny white teeth behind them. “So true.”

The music is low today. She had chosen Joni Mitchel’s Blue album for the first pick of the day. She had quickly learned Harry preferred listening to albums in order. It tended to make him less jumpy when the same artist came on multiple times like an album. So when she tried to play just an album one day, she found him more cooperative and less irritable.

After thirty minutes of work, she can’t stop noticing how shivery Harry is. It was late October in LA, so it was still warm, but admittedly the mornings could be a little chilly. His shivering was concerning for many reasons. Mainly he was messing up her work and concentration, but she also didn’t want him to get sick or something.

“Do you want me to see if they have a blanket and slippers or something? You look like you’re turning blue.”

Harry turns his attention to her. He had been reading over the script for today again. “That’d be great. I can call…” He trails off trying to think of the name of one of his assistants, but apparently he’s too scatterbrained for it. She assumed it was the hypothermia traveling to his brain already.

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll walkie someone.” She says as she grabs the walkie talkie, flicking to the personal assistants channel.

“Hey,” she chirps happily. Harry noted how she talked to other people. So sweet, yet sincere. With him, it was serious and sincere but more biting, callous at times. Less so lately, but she definitely was sharper with him. He didn’t know if it even bothered him anymore. She was engaging if nothing else.

“Is someone free to bring two blankets and men’s slippers over to Trailer 6? I’ve got a naked Jack and I don’t want him freezing before I’m done covering up his tattoos.” She takes her finger off the talking button and glances sideways at him, “Who knows, maybe that would improve his acting. Y’know on second-thought-”

“Alright, alright,” Harry tries to grab for the walkie talkie, but she turns from him holding a finger up signalling him to wait as she listens for a response.

Someone says a simple “On it” and she turns off the walkie talkie and gets back to work.

“I took my finger off the speaker before I said the thing about your acting. Relax, Harry.” She says when he’s still glaring at her. “Just love to see you squirm.”

He shakes out his short chestnut hair, some of it falling over his forehead. Instinctively, she reaches up without even looking and smooths it back. Like she was tucking her own hair out of her eyes, but instead it was Harry’s. She decided to say nothing and was relieved when Harry didn’t say anything either.

She finishes his forearm and moves to his outer upper arm. The rose holds her attention when the PA knocks on the door and she has to race to get it. Nothing could stop her from moving on this work. It was already an hour in and she wanted to scream.

She swings open the door and she wants to die. It was Autumn. Her least favorite PA, of course. She was insufferable and obsessed with Harry. Which was not why Y/N found Autumn insufferable. There were so many more reasons. So many. But that particular character flaw didn’t help her case either. Y/N tried to just take the blankets and slippers from Autumn, but the woman insisted that she come in.

“I’ve got it,” Y/N says.

“No, don’t want you to get makeup on anything,” Autumn’s saccharine voice grinds at her ears and she contemplates cutting them off.

Harry sat in his chair, legs crossed, nodding along to the music, his script discarded on the counter in front of him.

“Hi Harry!” Autumn practically yells, walking right up to him.

Y/N takes a deep breath at the door, letting it swing shut. She bites her lower lip as an attempt to bite her tongue as she walks back to her set-up. The set-up Autumn was conveniently blocking.

“Hello, Autumn,” Harry says kindly, making eye contact with her. “How’re you today?”

“So great! So great! Thanks for asking. How are you?” She points a finger at him like she might poke him and Harry squirms away from her a bit. She, of course, doesn’t notice this.

“Well, thanks.” His eyes flicker to Y/N, who is standing behind Autumn, hands on her hips and attempting not to tap her foot. His tone is clearly dismissive, but Autumn must ignore it. Y/N knows Autumn isn’t as helpless as she tries to come off.

Autumn asks, “Where do you want these?”, gesturing to the two blankets and slippers stacked on top.

“Just on the counter is fine, thanks,” Harry says.

Autumn does as he says and then stands there with baited breath. Y/N’s not sure what she’s expecting. For Harry to ask for her hand in marriage or something? But he just glances between the two women. His own foot begins wiggling in impatience.

“Busy day,” He attempts at dismissing her once again - with kindness.

“Oh my gosh, totally!” Autumn gushes, starting to go off on all of the tasks she has to do. She stands so close to Harry, Y/N genuinely thinks she’s going to sit in his lap. Y/N stares up to the ceiling, begging god or whoever to end her misery right there and then.

Harry sees Y/N’s expression and tries to maintain the neutral expression he’s had for the entirely too long interaction. A smile threatens at his rosey lips that had chapped from the morning air.

“Right, well,” he cuts off Autumn, “Y/N needs to get back to tattoo coverage, I think. So...have a nice day.”

Autumn’s eyes widen like she forgot that there was anyone else in the room and steps back from Harry. Y/N nods, a grimace clear on her face. Autumn gives her the same small she used to get from the popular girls in high school when she happened to be talking to their cool guy friend that they wanted to be more than friends with. Sickeningly sweet and completely fake. She could see the contempt in Autumn’s eyes that swirled just beneath the surface of her perfectly outlined green-ish eyes.

“Okay! You too, Harry!” She begins walking to the door and Y/N takes her seat again, closing her eyes and counting to ten. “And Y/N,” Autumn adds as an afterthought.

“Oh my fucking god,” Y/N sighs, her hands going to rub over her face and through her hair. “That was exhausting. Jesus Christ.”

“What? She’s nice. Maybe a little clueless,” Harry counters. “But she was so nice,” he confirms again, seemingly trying to convince himself of it as well.

She grabs the slippers and slips them on the ground so Harry can put them on easily. Then one of the blankets that she drapes over Harry’s bottom half. He smiles at the gesture, a ‘thank you’ said in a whisper.

“Please, she knows what she’s doing,” Y/N scoffs, “And she’s obsessed with you!” She grabs the concealer to get back to work, “She was all over you and never took her eyes off of your body. It was like she wanted to touch you or something. It was icky.”

“You touch me,” Harry adds cheekily, adjusting beneath the warm blanket.

She laughs, a smile gracing her lips as she gives Harry a look. He was clever.

“It’s my job to touch you, Harry.”

Harry had really tried to not laugh, but it was just so funny. They both snicker, their eyes meeting for a moment longer than usual.

“Speaking of my job,” she adds after controlling her laughter, “Does she not realize just how long it takes to cover all of your bloody tattoos with this shit to make it look like you’re a pristine skinned 50’s psycho killer?”

She finishes the rose coverup and moves to the ship. Harry nods solemnly.

“It’s true...And it doesn’t help that you’re terrible at it, so it takes a thousand years longer than it should.” He adds, laughter overtaking his serious tone at the end.

“Oh my god!” She shrieks in delight, trying not to mess up her work, “That is so rude! I messed up one time - mostly because of you, by the way. And give me a break, this is so not what I thought I’d be doing as a makeup artist for movies.”

He nods again, muttering “Fair, fair.”

They grow silent, enjoying Goodbye Yellow Brick Road, the album that she had queued after Joni’s.

“The body thing, I just learned to ignore it, I think.” Harry mutters, eventually, but it’s thoughtless, like he’s not revealing anything about himself with the statement. But it kind of shocks her. Her eyes widen and she stops her work to stare at his face.

“Harry,” she waits till his eyes meet hers, “That’s, like, not normal. Are you serious?”

“I mean, I’m very comfortable with my body, like I haven’t minded the last 45 minutes of sitting practically nude in front of you. And I have plenty of revealing photos out in the world. I just don’t notice staring anymore, it’s not, I don’t think it’s what you’re thinking,” he tries to reassure her. His eyes are intent on hers, full of seriousness that hadn’t been there a few moments ago.

“It’s one thing to be comfortable in your skin and another to be desensitized to objectification,” she insists.

He nods. “I know. Thank you. I would let you know if what she had done had bothered me, so don’t worry. I felt completely safe the whole time.”

“Good,” she nods back and concentrates again. “Good,” she repeats once more under her breath. There had been way too many distractions already today and she wasn’t even done with his arm yet.

As she continues to work up his arm, Harry sings along to some of the songs on Elton’s album. He happily taps his feet to the different beats, now safely tucked in soft fluffy slippers. She would never admit just how amazing it is to be in the same room as Harry’s singing. It was truly special to be less than a foot from him and hear him sing just under the unique voice of Elton - who was someone he actually knew, which was equally as cool.

He hit every note and knew every word. She was impressed. How could she not be when a literal rockstar sat before her? This was the first time she was truly starstruck by her charge, Mr. Harry Styles.

By two hours, they had moved onto an album by Dolly Parton and they were both singing. They strangely had no fights today, maybe some snarky comments from both of them, but no outright mean-spirited words were exchanged.

She stood in front of Harry, finishing up the swallows. She had finished both arms and the birds, all she had left was moving down his body. Up next, the butterfly.

“I love this tattoo,” she mumbles, twisting Harry’s standing body to face her and taking her seat again. This left her eye to eye with the butterfly on his stomach.

He makes a surprised face and raises his recently plucked eyebrow at his counterpart. “Oh really?”

“Don’t act so surprised. I told you day one that not all of them are rubbish and honestly they’re all pretty cool. I just was so annoyed that I had gotten tattoo coverage as my job and then I had to go and index them all.” She flicks her eyes up to his sculpted face and sees he’s watching her work. “Plus, I have some butterflies of my own, remember?” She grins.

“Yeah,” he ponders her words, “I don’t think that’d put me in a good mood either.”

He pauses again and she continues to work silently.

“So what’s your excuse for the second day then?”

“You provoked me,” she doesn’t spare him a glance, shrugging like it was the simplest answer in the world.

“Pardon?”

“Let’s not go down this road again, Harry.” She sighs, smoothing over the freshly covered butterfly tattoo. His sternum looked so naked, it was unnerving. Now the ferns.

Harry involuntarily shivered when her fingers traced over the ferns lightly, taking note of the expanse of skin she’d have to cover.

“You’re right,” he agrees, “But agree to disagree on the provocation.”

“Sure,” she says curtly, focusing on his skin and her job.

The expanse of skin that the ferns inhabited was slightly fleshy and especially soft. It bordered where his boxers began and she ignored that part of his body completely. It was of no importance to her and she really had no issue blocking it from her vision, even when it was right in front of her. She finishes one fern with Harry jumping only twice from her cold hands. He couldn’t put his robe on until the makeup had all set for half an hour so he’d have to be cold for possibly another hour still.

She traces the fern that is still visible and Harry shivers. She instinctively shushes him softly and his body quiets. As she works, her hair splays around her shoulders and Harry looks down at her working and doesn’t realize what his hand is doing until it’s too late. His right hand runs over her hair, smoothing it out of her face. It was rarely ever down, so it must have been the novelty of it.

“Sorry, I-” he chokes out when he jerks his hand back.

She sits back, slightly taken aback. Her body flushes just from their positioning and what a hair caress would mean normally in this position, but she’s a professional and she shakes it off.

“It’s fine. We’re even.” She assures him, breaking eye contact with his own wide eyes. “Seems like we’re both hair touchers.”

“It’s just so soothing,” Harry muses. “I think it’s human instinct to touch other people’s hair since it’s so enjoyable for yourself.”

“Possibly,” her voice raises, his thought was definitely plausible. Or maybe they were just two touch starved people who were very much in each other’s personal space 24/7.

At the two and a half hour marker, she gets a walkie message from Olivia’s assistant asking when they’d be done. She had just finished the tiger tattoo, which had been surprisingly easy. It took a while, but Harry didn’t shiver once and neither of them pet each other’s hair.

“Probably 40 minutes, sorry. He has a lot of tattoos and the makeup needs to set.” She says seriously and gets back to work, barely regarding the response of “Yeah it’s fine, just wanted an estimate”.

“Jesus,” Harry moans as she covers up his knee tattoos.

She groans in veiled disgust, “Did I just hit a secret erogenous zone? Is that why you have ‘oui’ there, you creep?” There’s a teasing tone behind the nickname she uses.

Harry laughs and runs his hand over his face, pulling at his jaw and lower lip. His jaw is so sharp, she watches him adjust it. “No, no. I’m just so goddamn tired of this.”

“And it’s not your fault,” he adds, feeling bad immediately after he said it. “It’s actually been nice today, but I’m feeling antsy, like I need to move. I don’t like to sit still.”

“I know,” she says under her breath. She simply nods in agreement.

Finally, the tattoos are all covered up and set. They had talked about George Michael when she got to his ankle tattoos that she hadn’t seen before and they laugh about the tattoos and chat a bit more. She helps him slip on his robe that he keeps in his closet in the trailer and then follows him out of it. They had decided they were hungry and he had been pushed back an hour since he had taken so long, so he had a free half-hour.

As they walked to craft services, they talked about actual things besides work. She was pleasantly surprised by what Harry talked about. It was more than music or the movie. It was the tv show he was currently obsessed with and how he hated LA’s traffic the most out of all of his dislikes for the city. She couldn’t help but grin at his Los Angeles slander. She loved this side of him.

Breakfast together after finishing his tattoo coverage became their regular thing. He would come into the trailer, racing from his morning meeting accompanied with tea for two, they’d get his tattoos covered as quickly as possible, and then they’d eat together.

They’d save their “in-depth” chats for breakfast. In early November, he joked about No Nut November and insisted he really wouldn’t have a problem with it - which had made her laugh. They worried together over the U.S. presidential election and meditated together in his trailer to Fleetwood Mac.

Around late November, Harry had requested that Y/N just do his face makeup as well, just to simplify his life a little more and the department had agreed easily. She had to spend extra time on set getting lectured on how to properly do Harry’s makeup, but after two days she stopped getting notes about it. She was so extremely proud and thankful to Harry for doing that.

All he said was: “I mean, you’re extremely talented so I’m not scared of you fucking up my face. Plus, it does make my life easier. Two birds with one stone.”

In late November, he told her about his favorite holiday drinks at Starbucks and what he was getting his mother for Christmas.

When the Vogue cover came out, he laughed over that woman who responded to his cover saying the world needed to bring back manly men. He joked that he was going to really push that from now on, that he was a manly man, and he would sputter with laughter every time he tried to say it with a straight face.

He hand delivered her a special ‘Treat People With Kindness’ sweatshirt that he only had for the cast and crew of the film. Most everyone got them from a PA, but Harry decided since you saw him first in the morning, why not.

He told her about him winning Hitmaker of the Year from Variety when he had left the award sitting in Trailer 6 and about how weird it was to film acceptance speeches in an empty room. His smile had lit up the entire set that day and the day he did his interview on set. He was so smiley she had to bump him with her elbow because he wouldn’t stop smiling at her and it was unnerving.

“Stop that,” She muttered.

“Stop what?” He smiles wider.

“That!” She squeaked, her head shaking as she ducked it to regard his anchor tattoo. “You’re smiling too much.”

“Oh no,” he says sarcastically, “God forbid I be happy.”

“It’s not that,” she bumps his thigh with her elbow, trying to keep her own smile off her face, “Your face is just so intense when you smile. Feels like you’re gonna burn a hole through me.”

He laughs, completely unconvinced, “You just don’t want me to be happy is what I’m hearing.”

She rolls her eyes, “Whatever, dude.”

She saw he was serious about the ‘manly men’ references when the Variety photos came out and everyone and their mom posted the pictures with some variation of that comment as their caption.

She still found that she rolled her eyes at some of the things Harry did, but she genuinely counted him as a friend by the time December had rolled around.

Over three hours, almost always completely alone, doing work for a job you both care deeply about can really make or break a relationship. And that first full-body coverage day had made them stronger together. After that, Harry and her would banter with one another, but there was never anything intentionally cruel. Just friends giving each other shit sometimes. Harry had been right, he had changed her mind about him. And she had realized that that was who Harry was. He was a deliverer. If you didn’t like him at first, he would try and try again until you did, but he did it in a way that wasn’t weasley or anything. It was terribly genuine and she saw it in every relationship he had on set.

On several occasions she had witnessed his friendship with Nick Kroll. A man she had regarded with dislike before the film. She had quickly realized that dislike was misplaced, but she maintained that it was just because she hated adult cartoons - citing that she literally refused to be friends with any person who willingly watched the Simpsons, Family Guy, and/or American Dad and all of those similar shows.

Nick was far nicer and less weird than she had realized. So she quickly shot her friend from high school an apology text for all the Nick Kroll slander she had spouted back in the day. Her friend had rejoiced but also said how jealous she was that Y/N got to see him regularly on set.

Nick and Harry got along great. Harry generally got along better with older people, she noticed when she was introduced to his friends on the somewhat frequent occasion. Trailer 6 was where Y/N saw most of these reactions take place. She would be introduced in the first minute and then she would smile politely and get back to the work of covering up Harry’s numerous tattoos.

Harry would say something simple and Nick, the literal famous comedian, would laugh. In the beginning she’d raise a brow, confused because it truly wasn’t that funny, but as Harry’s friend now, she kept her mouth shut.

Nick would come and sit on the couch while she’d work and eventually all three of them would chat. Sometimes she would get up to go to the bathroom during those morning chats and she would look in the mirror and think to herself “How are you casually talking to these two men right now” and then she’d think “Because you are a boss ass bitch, you got this” and go back out there with a smile on her face.

“Y/N, what are you doing tonight?” Nick asked on the first Friday morning of December.

She looks up from Harry’s cross tattoo that was half covered. Harry was reading, a book casually propped in his right hand and glasses resting on the bridge of his nose. He glanced at the other two in the room. Nick had been getting some work done before he had spoken.

“No plans,” she states simply before getting back to work. It wasn’t full body today, but it was arms and torso, so kind of a lot still.

“You should come over for dinner at my place with Harry,” Nick smiles kindly. His scruff was really coming in today. “To celebrate us almost wrapping the first half of the movie.”

Harry had thankfully freshly shaved before he sat down. It was her least favorite part of her new job. Whenever he came in for touch ups and she had to shave his afternoon shadow. She was terrified she’d cut him and never live it down from her department or Harry. She had no idea which would be worse.

“My wife will be there too, of course,” he adds, hoping to entice her to say yes.

Harry glances between Y/N and Nick again before focusing on his book again.

She purses her lips, finishing Harry’s hand and moving onto the anchor tattoo. “Yeah, I mean, I don’t know why I’d say no. As long as I’m not intruding on the throuple,” she grins up at Harry.

He stares at her with his big green eyes, slightly obscured behind his prescription glasses. He raises his brows and wiggles them a little bit, teasingly.

Nick laughs and slyly winks at Harry through the mirror. Y/N none the wiser as she removes all traces of Harry’s tattoos.

“Great!” He claps his hands and stands up. “We’ll talk or I’ll make sure Harry gets you the info or something. I don’t know, but we’ll figure it out. My wife’s been wanting to meet you,” he smiles again and walks out of the trailer.

She tilts her head at the last part. He talked about her to his wife. Did he really count her as that close of a friend? She was just a makeup artist and he was a producer… She glances at Harry and he gives away nothing. His jaw looks extra prominent and she knows it’s because he’s clenching it. He did that when he was focused or angry, remembering it bulging on the first day they met and how clenched it had been then.

“Unclench your jaw,” she mutters, “It’s not good for you.”

Harry hums and unclenches it.

He stretches his neck by rolling his head around his shoulders and she glances at the movement. His skin is still beautifully sun-kissed and his pores look so soft, only his moles change the texture of his skin. She loves his moles though, they make him especially unique in her eyes. Not that he needed anything else to set him apart from the crowd. Still, she loved them. His collarbone is prominent as he sits there shirtless and she wishes she could reach out and brush at it. But she gets back to work, knowing the only time she’s gonna be brushing near that part of him is when she’s covering dates in those dips behind his collarbones.

“Y’know, I could just drive you to Nick’s tonight,” Harry says, putting his book down and taking off his glasses. He rubs at his eye with his free hand.

“You’re blind and British, how do I know you can even drive yourself?” She asks sillily, pointing to his glasses.

He shakes his head, “I’m serious, Y/N. Aren’t you staying in the same area as me?”

He asks because they had relocated to Palm Springs a little while ago and everyone had gotten rentals and it was hard to remember where everyone was holed up when they weren’t on set.

“Yeah, think so. But you don’t need to pick me up. I have a car.”

“Nonsense. I’ve been to his place before, don’t want you to have to deal with directions, that’s just silly.”

“I guess...” she resigns relatively easily. She had never hung out with Harry off the set or Nick for that matter. It felt surreal, but she knew the right answer was usually just say yes in these situations. So that’s what she says. “Yes, that’d be great, thank you,” she confirms and watches as Harry’s eyes glimmer softly before turning back to his book. A triumphant soft smirk rests on his face.

The words die out between the two of them as she works on. He hums along to the music and continues reading his book. When she’s done with his tattoo coverage and his face makeup, she sends him off to hair and the rest of his day. He gives a flirty wink as he walks out the door and she rolls her eyes in response. She tidies up her kit and then goes to do some other makeup work.

When she wasn’t working with Harry, she was assigned to some of the minor characters and doing their makeup. They were always her second concern, especially now that she did Harry’s makeup as well as his tattoos. As she works on them, she can feel her mind drifting to Harry. Harry and how they were friends now. She was pretty sure, right? They were friends. He had never really said a mean thing to her if she really thought about it. It was her… She had been rude and mean-spirited and he had just taken it. He rarely had even thrown it back at her. He was so good to her and patient and she realized that he had proven to her that he was good. He was better than good, he was kind and loving. Considerate. Wonderful. All of those positive superlatives, Harry filled them. And she had the audacity to be mean to him.

She paused the brush that was adding blush to an actresses cheek.

Lisa, the actress, looks at Y/N confusedly, “What’s wrong?”

Y/N twitches her head, refocusing on her task at hand. The realization of her pausing her work becomes clear as she looks between her hand and the cheek that has not enough blush on it. “Oh,” she breathes. “...I just realized that I was terrible to someone who doesn’t have a mean bone in their body.”

Lisa nods, “Apologize.”

“Yeah, I mean...We’ve kind of moved past the phase where we don’t get along. Like now we’re friends, but the realization just really hit me.” She sighs, picking up where she left off on Lisa’s makeup. “I’ll make sure to apologize next time I see them.”

Lisa smiles.

At the end of the day, Y/N realizes she left her tattoo coverage kit in Harry’s room after their touch-up session halfway through the day. She had run off to help with a makeup emergency for a tiny cut on a minor character’s face and forgotten to go back and grab her things. Another roll of her eyes and a huff of breath and then she’s walking back to Trailer 6, a place that seemed like a home away from home now. She knocks, patiently waiting at the bottom of the steps.

Harry swings open the door and props it with his hip. He’s got a toothbrush held in his mouth, slowly scrubbing back and forth with his left hand. His costume is somewhat taken off, he’s still got the pants on with suspenders hanging down, his chest was completely bare and he looked funny with some of his tattoos only being half covered based on what parts of his skin had been showing today. Her work. His skin looked half silky smooth and half tattooed like usual.

His naked skin seemingly left her breathless because as her eyes returned to Harry’s face, she breathed a soft, “Hi.”

“Hey,” a smirk twists onto his face. “Forget something?”

“Yes,” she nods, coming back to her senses and entering the trailer at Harry’s gesture.

She begins to pack up the kit that had been left haphazardly strewn around on his counter. “I’m sorry I left a mess like this, I got called over to something else and forgot.”

“Don’t worry darling,” Harry grins at his joke.

She looks up from her work and sees Harry in the reflection of the mirror. He’s wiping off the makeup from his chest and his beautiful tattoos reemerge as entire images.

She laughs humorlessly, “It gets less funny each time you use that.”

“That’s not true,” he looks at her through the mirror now, his green eyes trained on her face, “Everyone else still thinks it’s hilarious.”

“They’re humoring you and your fragile ego,” she winks and watches as Harry’s smirk twitches from his perfect face.

“You’ve got a very mean disposition, you know that?” He asks.

He finishes his chest and moves to remove the makeup from his left arm, glancing at the mirror every so often to check himself and to flicker his eyes over Y/N’s face.

She genuinely laughs at that, but scolds herself internally for being mean when she had planned to apologize the next time she saw Harry. This was the next time so why was she doing this instead?

“Rewrite sweet disposition for me?” Her voice honeyed. Clearly stubborn and terrible at saying sorry...maybe her and Harry were a better match than she realized.

Harry twists his lips as he slips on his t-shirt he was wearing today.

“Pick you up at 6:30?” He says as his head pops out from beneath the rainbow striped sweatshirt he slipped on top of the shirt. His chestnut hair had been toweled out and was flopping over his forehead slightly.

She sighs and zips close the kit, standing from the seat she had taken at his counter and turning to face him now.

“6:30 is perfect. Thanks again for doing this. I just can’t believe Nick Kroll is inviting me over for dinner!” She smiles, shifting to lean against the counter as she waits for Harry to finish up. She didn’t have to but for some reason she felt like she was in no rush.

“Are you serious?” He’s moved on to changing his pants now and he’s slipping on black sweatpants.

“Yeah…” She blinks and her eyes widen as Harry appraises her expression.

He straightens up after fixing a cuff on the pants and he can’t tell if she’s being genuine or sarcastic. It was always so hard to tell with her.

“I mean, Nick Kroll is like a huge celebrity and I know in the entertainment business you’re not supposed to get starstruck but when I was in college my sister thought he was weirdly hot and my friends and I would shit talk him. I don’t know, it’s just kind of surreal to be having dinner at his place. Like I’ve watched him on tv and now I’ll be eating with him...so weird.”

He shakes his head, beginning on his dirty vans now. A small laugh escapes his mouth and he glances between her and his shoe, scratching his head quickly. “I still can’t tell… It feels like you’re fucking with me right now.”

“I’m not!” She insists, her hands coming out in front of her in a confused fashion. “I used to watch that guy’s tv show then he’s my boss now he’s inviting me over for food? It’s a lot to process.”

“How come it’s not surreal to be having dinner with me then?” He asks semi-joking, a hint of offense tinged within it. It’s visible only in his knitted brow and twisted lip.

“Careful there, sailor. Venturing into some dangerously self-absorbed waters.” Her eyes light up, a quick raise of her brows accompany the shine, and she decides now is her time to head out. Especially as she thinks about getting ready for this soiree tonight. She needed to shower and pick out an outfit with less than two hours to prepare.

Harry sputters at her response and fumbles with his pink shoelace. “That’s not...that is - You’re being unfair. My question is valid.”

She shrugs her shoulders and skirts Harry’s attempt at grabbing at her arm to stop her from leaving. “Okay, Mr. Big Man On Campus. I promise you you’re the most popular boy in school.”

She blows him a kiss and walks out the door as he attempts to get her to come back by calling her name a few times and slightly shouting “C’mon! I wasn’t being insecure. That was a reasonable ask…”

He sighs and shakes his head again. Every interaction would end with one of them either rolling their eyes or shaking their head and usually a sigh on both of their lips. It was exhausting, but exhilarating too.

20 minutes later, Harry receives a text from Y/N: “You’re still picking me up right :))) ?”

He’s in his car, getting ready to finally leave after getting held up with last minute schedule changes that he had to be informed about by some PA that he had forgotten the name of. His lip quirks to the right and he closes his eyes for a second enjoying seeing her name on his phone screen for a moment.

He types back: “Of courseeee”.

“Fab.” She sends back, immediately followed by: “Fanks BMOC ;)”

A full smile rolls onto Harry’s face after he swipes his tongue over his lower lip. “Yeah, yeah, save it for the next guy” he types out quickly before throwing his phone gently beside him and driving back to his apartment. She made him feel young, not that he wasn’t young, but generally his friends didn’t text like she did.

At 6:28, she receives a text from Harry Styles - his name in her phone. A name she had never expected to see in her phone unless her Spotify was on shuffle. Yet, instead, his name popped up under messages and it read “Here!” followed by a quick “I think” and then a phone call coming through from the apparently anxious man himself.

“Hello Harry.” Her tone even. She throws little items into her purse, making sure everything she needs is there.

“Could you peek out your window? I’m not quite sure I’m at the right place and people are staring…” nerves laced in his rushed tone.

She ambles to the window and opens up the shade she had closed to change. Below her, she sees a sleek black Range Rover with a slightly disarrayed hairdo and big dark glasses peeking below the windshield. She ignored the instinct to retch at the sight of the Range Rover and peered at the lamp lit sight below her. It was definitely Harry, but she searched for the prying eyes he was worried about and saw none. Well, maybe a few, but it wasn’t a lot.

“I see you, I’ll be right out, dude. Just deep breaths, it’s mostly crew staying here right now so they’re just seeing that it’s you, another guy they work with. They won’t come up for pictures...I would hope.”

She hangs up with no farewell, snatches her purse from its place on the bed and races out the door. Harry smiles anxiously at her when she stands next to the passenger’s door and he unlocks it. She bites her lip and raises her brows, waiting to hear if anything terrible happened in the minute and a half it took her to come downstairs and out to the car.

“Hi,” he exhales.

A smirk crawls onto her features and her eyes sparkle with a bit of a childish glee that normally she didn’t exhibit as she glances at him. “Hi.” She says quietly. “Alright big boy?”

“‘M fine.” He huffs but balks at her smile that she maintains while she stares at him. “What?”

“Just happy to see you, I guess,” her smile returns after speaking and Harry glances between her face and the windshield in front of him.

He can’t tell if she’s being serious or not once again. But he fears that conversation of her either ridiculing him for thinking she is serious or being offended that he still can’t tell. Instead, he will keep his mouth shut. For the most part.

“Happy to see you, too,” his lips create a closed mouth smile quickly before turning out of the parking lot.

She watches him. Their first time together outside of work. And they were friends. She needed to get used to simply thinking that. He picked her up to take her to dinner with her other friend and his wife. This was normal life, just with big names behind those terms of relation. Jesus, she always said it didn’t bother her to be around celebrities so why did she think about it so damn much?

She twitches her head and refocuses on Harry and his driving. His jaw is clenched again and she wants to reach out and sooth it herself. Instead she starts to open her mouth to correct him, but stops herself from that as well. They weren’t at work and it didn’t feel like something just a friend would say right now. She refocuses on the view of his eyes that are barely visible while he regards the road. His large eyes that she had grown acquainted to are surveying what he’s doing, every so often drifting to the right side of the road to check out the lane beside him. But then, always back to right in front of him, leaving a crescent of green visible to her.

“Can feel you staring at me…” His voice sounds like it’s rolled around in gravel after the long work day. It makes her wonder if he’s supposed to have a vocal rest when he’s not at work, but then again it’s the weekend now so maybe it was fine. Maybe she should ask him. Or maybe she should stop worrying so much about him.

“Have I got something on my face?” His low register bumps her from her racing thoughts. He doesn’t take his eyes off the road, but she can see he’s widened his eyes in wonder.

“No! Of course not, I just was...making sure you weren’t going to crash us or something.” She grasps at straws, desperate to not be caught by Harry.

A low chuckle bubbles from his chest and he spares a small glance over at her bundled up in his passenger seat. She matches his gaze with something of distrust hidden behind her eyes. She hopes to convey that she’s being silly and when Harry turns back to look at the road unassumingly, she feels like she has won. The harmonies of the beginning of a Queen song take over the silence, Harry’s spindly fingers thrumming against the wheel.

They arrive at the Kroll’s Palm Springs residence at 6:50. 10 minutes early and the two twiddle their thumbs for a few minutes, trying to pass the time and not intrude earlier than they were supposed to. She appreciated that Harry liked to be timely but not early, similar to how she was.

“So what is the fascination with Range Rovers?” She queries, leaning against the door’s armrest. The back of her head touches against the semi-tinted window.

Harry shifts in his seat, seat belt no longer constricting him and no road requiring his attention as they sit in the driveway. He rushes a hand through his hair and lets a single strand of hair fall over his prominent forehead.

“Dunno,” he shrugs his shoulders and allows a hand to fall onto the steering wheel absentmindedly. “I don’t really prefer them anymore, but when I’m in LA and doing work, it makes things easier. My other cars are a little flashier...have more privacy in this.”

“Yet the effect is similar,” she muses.

Her head tilts to take in Harry’s appearance, sharp black silky button-up and dark green plaid slacks, and she rubs a hand over her jaw. His eyes flicker to the movement and attempt to really take it in, even in the dim glow of the lamp light outside barely peeking into the dark interior of the car.

“Effect?”

“Y’know…” She arches her brow at him. He feigns innocence or possibly the expression is genuine. She’s begun to realize Harry was as genuine as they came, but she just didn’t think he was that unaware. An assumption that was likely correct, but even Harry liked to pretend he was a completely unassuming individual.

“Forget it,” she finishes when he gives no indication that he knows what she is hinting at. She doesn’t want to get into it with him again. Especially when he plays at this game where he has no idea what she’s talking about. It made her feel like she was crazy for thinking he made these calculated decisions to get his desired outcomes.

They move on, neither of them quite sure what the other was getting at in that conversation. The two of them walk into the house a minute before their expected arrival time side by side and are greeted happily with Nick and his wife. They’re ushered in and Y/N is happily received by the happy couple.

“So, Y/N, how’s it been for you working with these two? I know they can be more than a handful - especially together,” Nick’s wife, Lily, asks after a sip of wine.

The group of four had been eating for a while with Nick and Harry bantering for quite a bit at the beginning about whether or not Harry would be willing to hand feed Nick. The answer was settled at “another time”.

Harry seems to have a very specific habit of watching whoever is speaking - no matter what. So after Lily has finished speaking, his gaze flickers to Y/N, the person his brain expects to speak next. He watches her attentively as she wipes her mouth on her napkin before speaking.

Her hair was styled differently tonight than it usually was on set, she had it down rather than up in a ponytail or braids. He hadn’t had time to really look at her when they had been in the car, his mind occupied with stress and exhaustion that he refocused into driving and deep breathing. Now, in the comfort of a trusted friend’s home, he was far more relaxed and able to truly take in her appearance, which he couldn’t help but think was beautiful. He’d have to tell her that at some point. That he thought she was beautiful. Not that he didn’t see her on set and think she was beautiful...he just hadn’t really thought about it before. She was his wily makeup artist who was critical of him most times, but occasionally sweet, who had an amazing taste in music and good aesthetic style. The beauty part of it all, he guessed wasn’t something integral to their relationship before.

But now he was sitting beside her at the Kroll’s nice dining table and she had her hair splayed in front and behind her shoulders with one side tucked behind her ear and her outfit fit her impeccably. The top she had on had capped sleeves that cinched with buttons at her delicate wrists and a severe drop to create a small sweetheart neckline just above the curve of her breasts. It was silky and shiny, a blush pink that complemented the high waisted dark grey slacks that flared over shiny black boots that he wasn’t sure where they ended beneath the pants.

“Well,” she starts, chuckling under her breath when she meets Harry’s stare, “Harry and I spend a lot of time together, covering up all his tattoos, and he yaps a lot. So, it’s actually pretty refreshing when Nick comes in, because Harry’s then talking half the normal amount.”

He huffs a scoff, while Lily and Nick laugh happily. Nick interjects an “ouch” for the bite she just took out of Harry, but she thought it was fine, he can take it.

Harry thought to himself that if she can serve it, then she can definitely take it. His eyes remain on her as he opens his mouth to speak, but then look at Lily when words actually come out. “Well, Y/N, she thinks she can read people really well, but it’s actually quite the opposite. She had me completely wrong when we first met, so I talk now in hopes that she’ll really understand me.”

His head tilts to her when he mentions her name, but otherwise doesn’t glance her way away again. He scrunches his nose at the end of his comment, implying he converses with her out of pity.

It’s her turn to scoff and stare at him unamused. Nick and Lily share a look, unsure of what was going on, they had concocted this dinner date idea in hopes to set the two up but the way this conversation was going, they seemed to be pushing each other further and further away from one another.

“That’s simply not true,” she says curtly and takes a sip of her quickly emptying wine glass.

“Which part?”

“Almost all of it, I’d say,” her eyes glaring back at him, fiery with a disdain he hadn’t seen in awhile. “You’re proving my original perception of you with every passing second,” she adds.

“Care to elaborate exactly what the original perception of me was for the class,” his eyes are wide and wild, any extra adoration he had started to feel towards her slipping away just as quickly as it had come, like a wave along the beach.

“You know, so why don’t you?”

“I want to hear you say it,” he grits out the command.

She shifts in her seat, glancing at Nick and Lily who are watching on and she has a feeling she won’t be getting an invitation again anytime soon. Lily gives her a semi-reassuring smile like she was sorry to have asked the question at all, but Y/N knows this is kind of her fault, not that she would ever admit that. Her comment could have been taken innocuously, but Harry’s pride wouldn’t let it slide. Like she said, she should have known better, the weeks of friendship were flying out the window and she was helping them along.

“And what if I don’t?”

“Have fun calling an uber at this time of night,” he shrugs, malice dripping in his tone.

She truly was taken aback at this. A slight sound of shock leaving her mouth. Harry was many things, impatient and anxious usually, but downright cruel with her, she had yet to see it. Arrogant and pompous, definitely, but this wickedness that was starting to creep from the shadows worried her. But the little fiery demon within her wasn’t going anywhere either - yet she might back down to save herself some money and hassle.

“Fine,” she raises her brows in a challenge to him and restates her original take on him - possibly adding a bit extra malice in her phrasing, “You are a shell of a man, held up by the people around you, creating the illusion of a completely genuine and down to earth rocker who dabbles in acting, philanthropy and all around goodness. No one’s ever had a bad experience because no one’s ever truly met you. Not the real you.” She takes a deep breath as she shakes her head in disbelief now, a sarcastic laugh leaving her mouth, “And I thought, I really thought, that I had been wrong. Because these past months you really fooled me with your sweet smile and deep eyes. But when it comes down to it, you tricked me just like everyone else.”

Harry stares at her blankly and she shakes her head once more, feeling foolish. For thinking Harry was someone he wasn’t. For thinking the past few months had been real. For thinking that tonight would go off without a hitch. And the shit part of it was that she had really hoped that all of it was true. She wanted this to be her life, but her instincts had been right. Beware of the picture perfect because it always is just a mirage of deceit and lies.

“All I’ve got to say is you’re a damn good actor Harry, so at least you’ve got that going for you.” Then she pushes back from the table and stands, turning to Nick and Lily. “I really am so sorry, I understand that you probably want me to leave, so I’ll just be going,” her voice faltering at the end, she wasn’t as strong as she liked to pretend and she was pretty sure she just ruined her chances of working again in Hollywood. You’d have to be an idiot to be an enemy of Harry Styles and she feels like she just became his first.

“No!” Nick says quickly, standing too, “I think things just escalated really quickly and some things were said that both of you didn’t mean. Um...just, let’s take a few minutes to cool off. Harry could you and Lily deal with the dishes and I’m going to talk with Y/N alone.”

Everyone nods and Y/N follows Nick down a hallway, a little confused but following after he beckons her with his hand. They go out a side door and end up on a porch in the backyard. He stoops down and opens a little sitting mailbox she didn’t see and pulls out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. He places one between his teeth and then offers one to her. She accepts, not usually a regular smoker, but right now seemed like a fair time to indulge in the bad habit. She needed to calm her rapidly beating heart.

He lights the cigarette for her when he sees her shaking hands and then in turn lights his own. They stand on the porch beside each other and stare out into the dark night sky.

“Well, this wasn’t how tonight was supposed to go,” Nick starts, after a few exhales of smoke.

“No,” she laughs nervously, her foot toeing at the wooden slate on the porch. “I shouldn’t have tried to make a joke.”

“No one’s to blame,” Nick says quickly, glancing at her, “You and Harry...you both have really strong personalities and I don’t think either of you are used to being challenged.”

She nods along, she definitely had to agree after the argument they had both willingly gotten into in front of other people.

“I think that can be a really good thing, challenging each other, because then you two can both grow. But what happened in there was more of a battle to the death rather than a friendly spar.”

“Yeah,” she exhales, flicking at the burning cigarette between her fingers, “I don’t know why he gets under my skin sometimes in a way I’ve never dealt with and it’s kind of uncomfortable so I lash out, I guess.”

Nick stays quiet, taking a drag of his cigarette.

“Ugh,” she groans, “I wish I hadn’t done that. We were doing so well, it’s like I don’t even really know what I’m saying, it’s like I can’t handle a friendly spar, I always end up going in for the kill - as you put it.”

She rubs at her face with her free hand and then takes a drag herself. Nick bites at his lower lip, trying to think of a solution.

“Y’know? Lily and I had concocted this plan to try and set you and Harry up tonight,” he says slowly, revealing the plan that had clearly been taken off the table as they just needed to attempt to salvage cordiality.

“Really?!” She’s in complete disbelief and slight dismay that the plan was seemingly ruined.

“Well,” he sputters, “When the two of you aren’t throwing verbal fireballs at each other, you’re actually quite sweet to one another. Those fond little glances you hope no one sees, well he does that too, and you both fail miserably because I see it all the time. I’m sure plenty of people do too.”

“Oh,” she states, visibly deflating. She looks to the ashtray conveniently on a table behind her and presses out the rest of the cigarette. “Should probably talk to him, huh?”

Nick nods, stamping out his nub of a cigarette as well. They go back inside and into the kitchen where Lily and Harry have plated dessert. Harry looks a little sheepish, likely having a similar conversation with Lily and she wouldn’t be surprised if her expression looks similar, if not a bit more flushed from the outdoor chill.

Lily murmurs that she and Nick are going to eat their dessert in the living room, a fair bit away from the kitchen and the two now deflated counterparts nod and then stare at each other, knowing what they need to do.

“Can we talk?” Harry rasps out, his voice even lower as he speaks softly, a mere foot away from her in the kitchen.

She nods, but moves further from him to lean against the counter and tuck her hands behind her. She’s lost her appetite and doesn’t want Harry to see her shaking digits.

He’s ducked his head and a stray curl falls over his forehead, laying there softly. He doesn’t move to fix it, just stares at his feet until she begins to talk. He can’t not look at her face when she speaks.

“So…” She slowly starts, not enjoying the tension in the room. Her eyes can’t meet his though, his stare dark and unnerving like usual, but almost painfully so now. “I can start.” She kicks at the tiling on the floor like she had done outside as well, trying to not think about the eyes trained on her right now. “I’m sorry I lashed out on you, Harry. I didn’t mean what I said, it was just a heat of the moment response.”

“I’m sorry, too,” Harry says immediately once she finishes speaking, “I shouldn’t have gotten upset over a silly joke and brought up a sensitive subject. Then it escalated…”

“Yeah, I really liked the friendship we’ve garnered these past few months and I just can’t believe I almost ruined everything - including my career…” she squeaks at the end and tears start to roll from her eyes. “Oh god,” she is hit with the gravity of all that she almost ruined as Harry stares at her again. “I’m so sorry, Harry, I really am. Do you forgive me? I don’t think I could stand it if you didn’t.”

She stands there and feels sobs wrack through her and her hands go to cover her face out of embarrassment. She had caused a scene and now she was making another one. In front of Harry.

In an instant his arms are wrapped around her frame and he’s hushing her cries. They had never hugged before, but now seemed like as good a time as ever. His arms were strong around her and she pressed her face into his chest, not caring at all about how she looked or whether this was worse than getting in a fight and running off.

“Of course I forgive you,” he says and then begins repeating her name over and over, trying to soothe her. He definitely had been hurt by her words, but it seemed like she was more upset about the whole situation than he was and he didn’t think bringing up what specifically had hurt him would help her frame of mind.

She settles after some time, her whimpers and tears subsiding after being rocked into a more peaceful mindset with the help of Harry’s calming voice and reassuring embrace.

“I really am sorry,” she whispers again.

Harry pulls his neck back and his head off the top of her head to look at her face. It was tear stained and her eyes were glassy, lips slightly puffy. He gave her a soft tight-lipped smile. “No more apologies,” he states sternly and then softens again at the slight quiver in her lip. He pulls from her a little more, leaving her at arm's length, with his hands still attached to her hips, fingers slipping over the plaid fabric. “I meant to tell you this earlier, before things…” he stares at her face again and she holds it this time, “You look beautiful tonight.”

She scoffs and her eyes immediately drop to her feet, “Definitely not anymore.” She doesn’t believe Harry.

“‘M serious,” he insists. His right index finger goes to rest beneath her chin and brings her face up to look back at him.

“Sure,” she says, still not convinced but not sure how else to respond. She feels herself warming at all the positive attention he’s pouring into her.

His gaze won’t falter from her face, he’s intent upon making her understand him. He whispers her name, “Accept the compliment.”

“You’re stubborn,” she notes.

“So are you,” he counters quickly.

“Fine, thank you,” she sighs when he won’t stop giving her that look of his. That look that makes her want to melt into the ground because it feels like she’s the only person in the world. “Though you looked especially good tonight, too,” she adds, her hands rubbing over his shoulders softly.

“Thank you,” Harry states lowly, the words only traveling to her ears. His hands fiddle with the sides of her top, thinking about the night and where they were now. Her eyes were red from crying and overall she looked tired beyond her years. “Do you want me to take you home?”

“That’d be nice.”

They make a quiet farewell to Nick and Lily, as well as apologies from both her and Harry. They don’t speak in the car and the music plays loud enough for it to not seem unreasonable for them to be silent. Harry’s hands don’t tap against the steering wheel, they sit in their spots stoically doing their job and nothing more. She watches the window, legs crossed and hands clasped in her lap. She’s thankful for the music because she knows that even though they had talked, it wasn’t enough. What she had said was hurtful and one apology wasn’t enough for how she had behaved. She didn’t think her and Harry would be the same after tonight, but the silence made it possible for her to pretend none of it had happened.

Just as Harry’s car is pulling up the apartment complex that is far darker now, the harsh splatter of rain begins to fall on the pavement and the sleek black car the two are still sat in.

“Oh,” she comments offhandedly, just responding to what she had noticed.

The rain grows louder when Harry parks and then turns off the car. He glances at her for the first time since they got into the car. She registers the look out of the corner of her eye, her face still looking out at the rain. She loved the rain, but there wasn’t always a lot in Southern California, especially not in Palm Springs. It seemed that tonight was different.

“Well,” Harry breaks his silence, she thinks that’s her cue to leave and unbuckles her seatbelt, but he continues. “This certainly wasn’t how I expected this night to go.”

She stops moving, her hand hovering over the handle of the door. She sits back and settles into the seat, feeling her teeth bite into the plush of her bottom lip.

“That’s what people keep saying,” her eyes remain on the rain hitting the front of the car, the splatters of seemingly black liquid that form when the clear rain touches the onyx hood of the car.

“Huh?” Harry grows perplexed at the rather wistful tone of her and how she won’t look at him again. He was still hurt, but he had hoped them talking in the kitchen had straightened some things out. During the car ride he hadn’t wanted to talk, but it didn’t mean he was still angry with her. Just confused, and growing further confused by the second.

“Oh,” she repeats, “Didn’t Lily say? Her and Nick concocted that dinner in hopes to set us up.”

Harry hums, knowing that because Nick had left out a little part of that plan. That he had been a part of it. He had been talking with Nick about getting to know her better outside of work and how Nick had thought it’d be a good idea to have dinner so he had told Lily and they set it up like a casual dinner party. Harry didn’t know how to respond because her knowing that he was in on the plan might just make matters worse. He really didn’t think things could get much worse, but it seemed that they always managed to make it happen so in the end he decided to keep his mouth shut.

“I don’t know if we’d ever be able to work out differences out for that,” she decides to continue, when Harry stays quiet. She scans the interior of the car and watches Harry for the briefest moment before going back to looking out the window. “Nick said that we challenge each other to grow, but all I see us do is hurt each other.”

Her voice is just above the rain pattering outside the car and Harry thinks it sounds almost melodic if it weren’t for the sadness laced in every word.

“I disagree,” he states before wetting his lips.

“Of course you do,” she laughs in spite of herself.

“Even after all these months together and you still don’t get it. I like you.”

“You don’t like me, I don’t know how you could ever like me,” she shakes her head. “We just...we get under each other’s skin. You can make me so angry sometimes and I know I make you angry too. And when we’re not angry, we’re focussed on something that doesn’t have to do with ourselves.”

“I don’t think what you feel for me is anger,” Harry insists, “Just because something feels burning and fiery, frustrating even, doesn’t mean it’s anger.”

His body shifts closer to the center divide and she turns to face him finally. His eyes are extra dark in this lighting, which is barely there from a streetlamp a ways off. She longs for the comfort of his light green eyes, the soft pale glow of the moss that seems to have been trapped within his iris. Maybe for that reason she unknowingly leans closer to him.

“Then what is it?” She whispers, eyes blinking slowly as her breathing grows strained.

“Passion.”

Immediately, her head is tilting to meet his lips. Her mind knows one thing, she needs to be kissing Harry right now. And then she is. His left hand goes to cup her cheek as his lips attach themselves to hers. His soft lips press to hers in a long searing kiss. They stay there for a moment, pressing all of that passion and frustration into the kiss.

She presses impatiently forward, her lips starting to move more, wanting to kiss him deeper. Harry obliges, parting his lips and kissing her more vigorously. He licks into her open mouth and smiles at the sound she makes in appreciation for his actions.

She’s shifted to have herself kneeling on the leather seat and she’s leaning over the console. One of her hands finds purchase on Harry’s thigh and grasps tightly, her other at the back of his neck, pressing him closer if it were possible.

His chest is pressing against hers as he pulls her closer. He kisses her and his fingertips rub softly at the apple of her cheek. Eventually they run behind the shell of her ear and trail down her neck.

Eventually, she pulls away and stares at Harry. She watches as his eyes flutter open gently. His soft eyelashes dust his cheeks before moving away, allowing his eyes to peer at her in the dark.

Her breathing feels a little irregular after the kissing and she’s sure she is heaving her chest slightly, likely mirroring Harry’s chest as well.

“So, where to now?” She inquires, lips quirked up at her suggestion.

Harry giggles and scratches his nose against his index finger.

Harry doesn’t stay the night, he walks her up to her apartment door though. He kisses her chastley in front of her door and wraps an arm around her waist as he does so. He bids her a goodnight and a promise of seeing her soon.

They don’t see each other for a month. Both of them had been so blissful after the endorphins of kissing their person that they had forgotten that filming had wrapped. They weren’t set to work for a month. Harry texted her the next morning informing her that he’d be in England until filming resumed. She was still going to be in California, filming was moving back to Los Angeles, so she’d be back in her place there. Her family knew she was working, so they had sent her presents ahead to her place instead. Angie, her only true friend in the area, was spending her time with her actual family and Y/N didn’t want to intrude.

So the holidays were going to be spent alone. Those four weeks alone passed surprisingly quickly. She practiced techniques on herself, bought a tiny Christmas tree like the one in A Charlie Brown Christmas, watched A Charlie Brown Christmas and just about every other holiday movie possible. She fell in love with young Hugh Grant and Colin Firth for the thousandth time. She sang carols to herself and decorated her place with decorations from Target. She jammed out to the new Miley Cyrus album and held dance parties for herself in the house. She baked cookies and even attempted a trifle after watching a Great British Bake Off episode. She did and she did all in hopes that her mind wouldn’t wander to the guy who hadn’t called.

Harry texted occasionally, but it was infrequent at best. He was a busy person, she knew that. She knew who he was. And she didn’t want her mind to have enough time to feel sorry for herself. For her to think that she was just somebody to pass the time with while at work, because if she stopped doing things that’s where her mind would wander. Why did her mind spiral like it did? She had no idea, she’d always been like that.

His absence, their separation, made her question if her own feelings were even true. She wondered if when she saw him he would act as if nothing had happened. As if he hadn’t said their relationship was passionate and she had kissed him until she couldn’t breath.

Too much time alone, she needed some fresh air. On January 2nd, after an uneventful night at home and a lackluster countdown washed down with cheap champagne, she decided to go and walk around near her place. There was a coffee shop that wasn’t extremely expensive that she also liked that she figured she would get coffee from. After a brisk walk, she walked through the store's doors and ordered an iced green tea. As she waited, she watched the other customers around her, wishing to see a friendly face, someone she knew. And seconds later, she was met with half of that wish. Someone she knew, not necessarily a friendly face.

“Autumn.” She states with a grimace when someone taps her on the shoulder and she spins around.

“Y/N? It is you!” Autumn, one of the PA’s from Don’t Worry Darling who was especially in Harry’s business, exclaims overly happy as per usual.

Y/N bites the inside of her cheek and gives a tight lipped smile, trying her best to be cordial.

“How’s your holiday been!” Autumn asks.

“Great. You?”

“So great!” She’s quick to lean closer and say in a hushed tone, “But I miss working on set, especially getting to see that Harry everyday. He’s just so gorgeous.”

A breath gets stuck in Y/N’s chest at the mention of Harry’s name. Her brows can’t help but raise a bit at Autumn’s comment. Even lowering her voice didn’t make it feel alright to talk about Harry like this. He was her friend after all.

“Sure.” Y/N nods abruptly, realizing Autumn wants some recognition of what she’s just said. Y/N’s eyes glance around the room, hoping for an out like her drink is ready or something - no such luck.

“I mean,” Autumn keeps talking, of course, “You’re so lucky. You get to see him shirtless, like what? Everyday practically? Don’t tell me you don’t miss that just a little bit!”

“I miss working,” Y/N says, avoiding what Autumn is trying to get her to say. “And Harry’s my friend, could you maybe not talk about him like that with me?”

Autumn’s eyes widened in shock, her lips parted dumbfounded by her co-worker's response. Y/N’s name is called for her drink and she’s thankful for the serendipitous nature of that sound getting her out of the awkward situation she had just been in.

When she gets back to her apartment, she surprisingly has a text from Harry himself. She’s always telling everyone; speak of the devil and he will appear, in one way or another. It’s a Happy New Year well wish followed by a separate text asking how she was.

It was sent a minute ago so she decides to try and give him a call. She preferred talking on the phone over texting.

It rings a few times and then, again surprisingly, he picks up.

“‘Lo?” His voice is nice and deep and sounding extra British after his weeks surrounded by family and such.

“Harry,” she sighs contentedly.

“Happy to hear your voice,” he says her name and she can tell he’s smiling just like she is, from ear to ear.

She bites at her lip, hearing him say her name.

“I’m well, thanks,” she says after a moment of happy silence.

“What?” Harry laughs, confused.

“You texted asking me how I was and I called to respond.”

“Got it,” Harry chuckles, and she hears him shuffling around, likely sitting down on something.

“How are you?” She continues.

“Good, starting to wind down for the day,” he lists off the things he’s been doing over the past few days. Some of it work related, some of it family activities. All of it fun, he insists. “What did you do today?” He finishes, knowing she was an avid activity doer based off of the snaps she had sent him over the past few weeks.

“Tidied my place, went to the coffee shop and got iced tea…” she tries to think and then she gasps, “Oh! And I saw Autumn, one of the Don’t Worry Darling PA’s -”

“The one who’s obsessed with me?”

“Exactly!” She laughs, “And I may have kind of told her off… accidentally.”

“Accidentally told her off?” Harry repeats, incredulous. “How’d you do that?”

“Well,” she doesn’t want to tell him the rest, but there’s also a tiny part of her that really does, “She was gushing about you, which, ew. And then she asked if I missed seeing you shirtless everyday.”

“Well do you miss seeing me shirtless?” Harry smirks.

“Oh shut up!” She’s quick to reply.

“So you do?”

“If I really wanted to see you shirtless, all I’d have to do is type in “Harry Styles sh” and it would come up,” she rolls her eyes even though she knows he can’t see them. “Wouldn’t even need the whole word. Guaranteed.”

“Uh-huh?” Harry questions still, “If you want me to send you shirtless pictures that the rest of the world hasn’t seen, Y/N, all you have to do is ask.”

“I do not want you to send me shirtless pictures of yourself!” She exclaims. She feels like jumping out of a window right now. This conversation had escalated so quickly and she felt herself flushing, maybe even perspiring a little bit. And she also knew that she also would probably like it if he sent her shirtless pictures, which made this whole thing worse.

“Offer stands,” he says, smug as he normally was, happy he got to banter with her again. It had been dull without her, if he was honest with himself. “If you ever find yourself in need, just send a cheeky text and I’ll whip one out for you, no matter where I am or what I’m doing.”

“See this sounds like you’re saying something sincere, but really you’re just telling me you’ll send me nudes at any time.”

“No one said anything about nudes!”

“Shirtless, nude, sounds like you’re getting too caught up in the details, hon.”

“No!” He protests, “You’re the one who’s supposed to be flustered right now, not me!”

“Aww, you’re flustered,” She coos.

Harry groans. “Whatever. I’ll be back on the 8th, be ready to go out on the 9th. I’m taking you on a proper date.”

“How do you know I’m going to say yes?” She bite her lip again, she’s really sweating now. She couldn’t believe he had just asked her out on a date out of nowhere. Out of them just joking about nudes. Maybe she didn’t know Harry as well as she thought.

“Because you called me,” he says confidently.

“I call everyone.”

“But I don’t offer shirtless pictures to everyone.”

“That has nothing to do with me saying yes to this date.”

“Or does it?”

She laughs at his words, at how his voice still manages to convey every facial expression and quirk of his lips. She knows there’s a smile on his lips as he stares in the distance, imagining her face just as she is his.

“Yes.” She smiles.

“Yes!” He repeats happily.

She hears him stand up and spin around possibly and she chuckles slightly, amused at the silly man across the world who had seemed to have stolen her heart.

“See you soon, Harry.”

“Not soon enough.”

On the Saturday of their date, Harry insists on picking her up. He meets her at her door and winks at her after pulling away from their short hug. He laces his hand in hers and she follows behind him as he all but drags her to his car that is downstairs. He seems giddy. His hair has grown out in the month he’s been gone and she knows they’ll cut it when filming resumes. He’s wearing Gucci flared blue jeans - she knows from the big logo on the bottom left pant leg - a ‘Waiting for Sunset’ graphic tee beneath a black cardigan with little animals and items knitted in it. And of course, his dirty ass vans. She had hoped that maybe Christmas would bring him a fresh pair from someone, but it seemed there was no such luck.

Either way, he looked good and upon scanning his outfit, she was pleased that she had dressed correctly for the occasion, knowing one of the sins of Los Angeles was being improperly dressed wherever you might go. Harry had said casual, but casual can always mean so many different things. She got it right with light wash high-waisted levi’s, a brown cream rib-knit long sleeve that buttoned like it could be a cardigan, and some fun chunky boots that added some height to her normal stature. She had contemplated between this and possibly twenty other tops and a few other bottoms. Landing on this felt right, plus it didn’t clash with Harry, the color of her shoes actually matched the color of the snake on the cardigan.

They both compliment each other on the way out to his car and she giggles when he stops and twirls her around. He says he didn’t get a “proper look” before for him to compliment her adequately. After the twirl, he nods and starts them off again, complimenting the specific pieces of her clothes and says she looks beautiful again. His giddiness was contagious.

“No Range tonight,” she muses when Harry stops them in front of a Mercedes-Benz cream convertible, top up.

“Not working,” he replies, unlocking the car with the key into the passenger’s side door handle.

She smiles and slides into the car and watches him jog around to his side and unlock it as well.

“Tonight is going to be fantastic,” he says, leaning over the console and kissing her cheek, just beside her lips.

And when he pulls away with that smug smile of his, she knows he kissed her there on purpose. But the little tease only makes her smile more. He was good at this. And he was right.

The night was fantastic. As was every night after. And she learned that Harry was so much more than anything she ever thought. She counted herself lucky to be loved by a man like him.

#harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fan fic #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles one shot #harry styles oneshot #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #enemies to lovers #dwd!harry #idk I always feel like theres more I need to put in here but idk #pls leave feedback and reblog

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full-hd-sun · 3 years

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Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Relationship: Dong Si Cheng | WinWin/Nakamoto Yuta Characters: Dong Si Cheng | WinWin, Nakamoto Yuta, Moon Taeil, Suh Youngho | Johnny, Wong Yuk Hei | Lucas, Qian Kun, Liu Yang Yang, Wong Kun Hang | Hendery, Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul | Ten Additional Tags: Awkward Flirting, Attempts to flirt, Fluff, Attempt at Humor, Firefighters, Phone Calls & Telephones, alcohol mentioning

The Japanese never paid strong attention to people’s voices.

It started on a cool October season when a hotline operator called him. He reported that a few streets from the fire station, a flat was burning, in which, according to the victims’ neighbors, there were kids and two old humans. Nakamoto thanked him, writing the coordinates and some info on a piece of paper, and, calling the team, moved to work.

A few days afterward, the same voice reported about a kid whose hand was stuck between the bars of the fence.

“The injured kid is about nine years old. Previously, he got stuck till the shoulders, as the incident reporter struggled to help the child, but he did not move a millimeter.”

“Did you find and tell his parents?”

“No, but the informant told his parents, who know the victim.”

“OK, thank you for the report. We will get there as soon as possible,” with these talks he instructs his colleague Jisung, who, after passing his eyes over the piece of paper, thanks Yuta and rushes towards the squad. Nakamoto is bad at granting first aid, so he is useless there. He leans back in his chair and stretches, crunching his back stiff because of long sitting. Then he closes his eyes.

The first thing that comes to his mind is that he has not even started the edge of housekeeping, since because of regular shifts. To get into his room, he must complete a quest from uncleared boxes from pizzas eaten on the go in the morning and scattered clothes everywhere; in most cases, he justifies his job as a firefighter - if you want to take out somewhere on his day off, wake him up first.

And suddenly the voice of the operator creeps into the image, which anyway attracted him. Usually, when the operators announce what happened, they have a panicked tone, as if it, God forbid, happened in their family. But the tone of this operator is entirely calm, and if the condition was fatal, he announced this in a quiet voice with slight hoarseness; probably talks a lot during the day.

The loud sound of the phone brought out of his dreams, so Yuta had to open his eyes and in four steps be near the dial.

“Well, already ... Are you firefighters or who?” he discovers a recognizable and somewhat annoyed voice on the other hand of the line. “Be more gathered,” the same voice reads, and the Japanese just grins. It delights him.

“Did something happen again?” asks Yuta keeping a pen with a piece of note wide-awake.

“I’m calling because of a child whose hand stuck in the fence. We called the parents. But they are a somewhat dysfunctional family because they just so violent to me when I told them of the event!” on the last words the operator’s voice breaks down a bit, which touches the firefighter. “So the boy will come to you, and there you will already call the guardianship authorities and all the cases.”

“Ok, I found out. Thanks for the info.”

“And be more responsive to calls. A person dies because of your delay in responding, how will you live after that?” the operator says in an instructive manner.

“Are your parents not dragons by any chance? Then how do they explain that you are such a fire?” Yuta says in a languid tone, and, covering the mic with his palm, he giggles. There is a silence of the phone for a minute, accompanied by a deep sigh, and Nakamoto swears that he can feel the operator rolling his eyes.

“Excuse me, of course, but did your grand-grandfather teach you how to tackle, or are you so ancient?” the tone is humbler - sweet and smooth.

“It did not work?” expresses the firefighter in a somewhat agitated tone.

“Of course not. You have to study and understand the art of a flirt,” here is a minute of silence, “but your voice is as sweet as honey, which I add to my tea.” Yuta hears a gentle chuckle on the other side.

"Was it a tackle or are you teaching me to tease, mister..." - the firefighter stumbles, because he does not know the name of the operator, he never introduced himself. In response, there is the most magnificent and pure children’s laugh that a Japanese has ever heard.

“I’ll tell you my name if the next time you pick up the phone when I call,” a voice murmured on the other side,” and now I have to go to accomplish my shift. So let’s try your luck, Big Time. See you.” and the operator drops the call, leaving Yuta with an idiotic grin all over his face.

He had never run-up to the phone so rapidly before when it called, picking up a call and holding his breathing, expecting, but it was not him. This was the second week. Some voices were regularly repeated, but the one he lacked so much was seldom on duty. It’s marvelous how much Yuta wants to hear this operator. He rushes headlong, even if he is standing at the other end of the hall, at the sound of the ring.

When Nakamoto comes to the later shift, having already given up any confidence when the call sounds, he pauses to pick up, but something inside pushes him to receive the call, and he responds to the call.

- Hey? - he is silent for a couple of seconds, and suddenly it dawns on him that the firefighters should not say in such a way. - Oh sorry. Fire station number one, what can I be ...

- Well, hello, - the voice says with a laugh, making Yuta fell into a stupor.

- You…

- Me, - the firefighter hears on the other side a slight laugh in his voice. - What am I calling. There, several people were stuck in a shopping center elevator.

Yuta writes all the details and the street and then gives the piece of paper to Doyoung. After making sure he’s gone, Nakamoto returns to the phone. - Well, honey, you were right, I am lucky.

There is a chuckle on the other side, and the Japanese man quite closes his eyes.

- You only thought about it all the time?

- Well, really, you developed a reflex of Pavlov’s dog. I’ve never picked up my phone so immediately, - says the firefighter, sitting down on a chair and throwing his legs over the back of a nearby chair.

- For a second I imagined you in a collar and with a chain which I hold at the end, - the operator laughs. Yuta just chuckles and looks at himself in the mirror - maybe it would suit him.

- Why were you not on duty for so long? Probably fell from your home - paradise? - at least in the Japanese's head this tackle sounded cool, but judging by the silence of the operator, it was again a failed number.

- Now you asked to teach you how to roll from your great-great-grandfather? - the operator imitates the stern voice and then laughs. - But tell him that this is much better.

The firefighter is glad to understand that he’s already doing better.

- So, tell me your name, I picked up the phone when you called.

- Did I say that? - The voice asks in surprise.

Yuta chuckles in response, straightening his red hair, which sticks into his eyes although he tied it in a ponytail at the back.

- Well, then I want to take back my promise.

- Why? Am I unpleasant to you? Don’t you like my voice? - tries to hide Nakamoto’s anxiety.

There is a burst of sincere laughter that caresses his ear.

- No, of course not. I just like to play, and you heartily accept my rules - the voice becomes languid, or does it seem so to a Japanese in love?

The corners of the firefighter’s lips spread across his face in a grin, exposing his fangs.

- Well, you may be right. I like to hunt you, - taking off his legs from the back of the chair and sitting down, he adds in a whisper: - But baby, take it down a notch, that I am not as simple as I look, - leans back and feeling unbearably good, says Yuta. The operator chuckles in response, and the Japanese involved in this game likes it. He likes that this kid does not so easily fall into the clutches of a predator.

They were silent for another minute, and Nakamoto felt uneasy.

- Um ... How are you? - Coughing softly, he asks.

On the other side, he can hear a peal of chesty, rolling laughter.

- Are you asking this to talk a little longer?

- Stealing your time? - Yuta’s cheeky grin grows as he looks at himself in the mirror. - Yes, I’m such a thief. And you, by the way, are also a thief.

- And why is that? - the operator is indignant, and it amuses the firefighter.

- Because you stole a piece of my heart. - Now it’s Nakamoto’s turn to laugh out loud while the operator thinks about something.

- Hmm, it was good, - the voice finally answers, and Yuta, burying his fingers in his hair, conducts through them, pleased with himself.

- But back to the previous one. It was you who brought me into the game, so I’m running after you.

- Well, I did not force you to do it.

- Hmm. Here you are right. I’ll reformulate - I’m running after you of my own free will, - says the firefighter, stretching in his chair.

- Did I interest you so much? - says the voice on the other side.

- You don’t even know how much, - the Japanese grins.

This seems, surprised the operator very much, as he became quiet. Yuta runs her tongue over her dry lips in anticipation of an answer, and when it doesn’t follow, she asks:

- Are you surprised that your fabulous voice charmed my callous heart and envelops it with the desire to live on and continue your game?

Nakamoto hears the operator on the other end speaking Chinese and then brings the phone to his ear.

- No.

Yuta bites her lower lip as she imagines that voice just got embarrassed.

- Oh, the dear angel was embarrassed.

- Not true! At the last word, the guy’s voice breaks again, and Nakamoto smiles triumphantly.

- Yah? You flirt like a god, but here you were embarrassed by a compliment from me? The fireman purrs, teasing the operator.

- Yes! I’m not embarrassed! Is a blatant lie, but Nakamoto rolls his eyes and runs his tongue over the gums under his lower lip. He senses how long it takes for the kid to answer, so he’s sure he’s blushing.

- Good, good, red maiden. I’ve got things going on here, so I have to leave you. Until the next call, - without waiting for an answer, Yuta drops the call and grins triumphantly, exposing his fangs.

If the kid wants to play, he will suit him. One: one.

Their subsequent calls were purely working, with no game. During this time, Yuta manages to find out quite by accident that this is operator number 2810. Of course, this information does not bring him closer to revealing the guy, but it pleases him even more because the game continued.

Unexpectedly, Taeil, their department head, after intercity meetings of all fire departments, decided to put several operators on the first floor of the fire department in which Japanese works. He explained this by the fact that the operator’s department has so little space that they almost sit on each other’s heads, and the first fire department has an empty floor idle. Everyone didn’t care if there were more people or fewer, but Nakamoto, deep down, hopes to see the operator who has been encrypted for three months now and has not been led into his bait.

Closer to Christmas, some of them already have all the communications that operators need so badly, and somewhere the other day they should announce themselves.

Everyone goes home, only Yuta and Johnny remain, who, alas, will not be able to spend this New Year with their relatives. They decided to pass the time by decorating the site with a Christmas theme. Youngho takes out garlands and toys from the attic, while Yuta cleans the snow tree in the courtyard to decorate it. Of course, one cannot do without a snow carnage, but Johnny, due to his height, is less agile, so Nakamoto throws snowballs at him from head to toe.

Decorating something is a favorite of the Japanese. He pleases to create the everyday interior colorful, so on the table near the phone on which he speaks to the operator, there are always animal figures made of wood or any other material, and next to the desk there is a huge pack with Valentines. He works here not so long but has a lot of valentines for that time. He’s a local Don Juan in their little area.

When Nakamoto helped Youngho get shit off the snow, they set about decorating the tree. Yuta does all, and Johnny only gets to the places where the Japanese could not get it. So for an hour of such friendly work, the Christmas tree lights with a sweet and gentle white light, without eating away the eyes, since this time. Suh took a garland with a less bright light. In a few more hours, the entire department is decorated with socks in which you need to put gifts, Santa Claus, which hang on the walls and, having asked the workers in advance not to close their lockers, Yuta and Johnny throw each a packet of sweets and a small handwritten card with wishes for a Happy New Year and Christmas. The guys also arrange a small concert, turning on New Year’s music for the whole department, and dancing their wild dances, because there is no other way how Yuta “flies” on a broomstick, and Johnny imitates playing the guitar, holding his leg. Suddenly Youngho seems to remember something and slaps his forehead, walks over to the speaker, and reduces the volume.

- I forgot that we have a club where you can have a lot of fun every New Year’s Eve. My friends invited me there. I’ll go and call them back, ask if everything is still valid, and let’s go there, - without waiting for an answer, Suh went out the door.

Yuta takes off the jewelry that the elder hung around him and puts them neatly in place. On this New Year’s Eve, he truly wants to call the 2810 operator, but how? Nakamoto slowly walks to the window, looks through the snow-covered window at the sky, noticing the shooting stars. Once upon a time, his parents told him that if you absolutely believe and wish, and when you see a falling star, make a wish - it will surely become true. Nakamoto only smiles with the corners of his lips at these memories, but the Devil may play any trick. He closes his eyes and makes his wish right before Youngho walks back into the room.

- So, I will make you happy - we have a team, so come on, change from work to normal clothes, and let’s go hang out. You will remember this New Year, - Johnny smiles, mysteriously twitching his eyebrows, which annoys the Japanese a little, but it won’t hurt to try, so let’s go.

Changing from suit into a fiery sweater that matches the color of his hair and thick black pants, he places a few jewels in his haircut, braiding them into a ponytail, and fixes his naughty bangs with several invisible ones. When Yuta comes to work in this form, he usually hears sighs behind his back about his amazing image. And the Japanese himself dreams of hearing this from his beloved phone caller, whom, though, he counts on to see tonight, because all these conversations of the elders are true, right?

Johnny, looking at such a Nakamoto, whistled, and thumbs up.

- Now, besides my boyfriend, you will also glow in the club, - he laughs with joy, picking up his bag over his shoulders. Yuta rolls his eyes at this.

- There can only be one star on the tree, and that’s me, - he replies, running his palm through his hair and smirking. The Japanese don’t even need alcohol to be so confident and ready to roll.

- Let’s go then, a taxi is waiting for us, - Youngho points to the exit, letting Yuta ahead.

Saying goodbye to the few on duty who remained there, they disappear from the fence of the station and get into a taxi. Johnny gives the address and the car moves. As the Japanese one understood - they will go to the other edge of the city. They are silent all the way - Suh writes something to friends and seldom shows some memes to the boy, and Yuta looks at the night festive city. People walk in crowds on the street, having fun and wishing everyone a happy New Year. Someone is dressed in costumes, someone is handing out small gifts, street musicians are singing, there are many booths where you can buy hot mulled wine and warm up. In general, the atmosphere of a holiday is in the air. Nakamoto always spent New Year in his hometown of Osaka, Japan, but he was suddenly offered a promotion and needed to move to Korea. Leaving friends and family, he went to a completely unfamiliar country with great fear that he would not be accepted here, but fortunately, he came across such a boss as Taeil - a truly good person: he can be strict, but he never raises his voice and does not scold him for any then minor misses. He also got Johnny as his partner - just like him, a boy who came from America, who has been working here for four years, but this is their first joint New Year, which they spend together.

As he thinks about his friends and family, he doesn’t even recognize how the car has stopped, and it is only when Youngho pinches his side that he wakes up.

- We’re in place, getting out, - Johnny announces, extending his hand. Nakamoto looks around, sees the Neo Club sign, and after thanking the driver, gets out of the car. People around stand and smoke in large crowds, chatting about something of their own, but the entrance to the club is almost deserted, so, after standing in a small line of four people in front of them, they finally enter.

Suh is already waving to people at the table, is almost at the other end of the entrance, and realizing that only he can see where these guys are, he grabs Nakamoto’s hand and drags him through the dancing heat. It surprises the Japanese to see how already drunken enough bodies are trying to move to the music, how everyone huddles together, and only grins at this - he likes this. Twice, someone tries to grab his free hand, but Johnny drags him along so quickly that Yuta, even if he wanted to, could not free himself from Youngho’s tight grip.

When they are already leaving the crowd, Nakamoto sees a sofa where five “ready-made” guys are already sitting. Of all of them, he knows only Taeil - their boss and, in combination, the guy So, who, noticing his workers, waved to them and point to a place on the sofa next to him. Yuta is the first to let Johnny, who is near his boyfriend, kisses him nicely on the nose, and again on the lips, placing his hands on Moon’s hips. Later a Japanese man sits down next to him. All eyes at the table are looking at him, but he leans back on the back of the sofa, straightening his hair and showing with all his appearance that he is dad here.

- This is Nakamoto Yuta, he is Japanese and works with me in the same department. This is the same legendary guy who, appearing on the doorstep, won the hearts of many firefighters. - introduces the guy Johnny, while everyone is looking at the red-haired one. He, it seems, is not nervous in an unfamiliar atmosphere, radiating all his sexuality and blinking innocently.

-Nice to meet you, - he shakes hands with everyone, eyes shooting, making the two strangers blush slightly.

-This is Lucas and Kun, - Suh points to the guys sitting opposite, - they were once in our department, but now they are a few streets away, in the third.

Lucas and Kun smile as they shake the guy’s hands. Yuta realizes that they are only seemingly formidable, especially Lucas. Until he smiled, the Japanese thought he had squeezed something from Yukhei, and that he would now hit his face. Kun is calmer and looks like a bear, Nakamoto wants to pinch his cheeks.

-And this is Yangyang and Hendery - our operators, - continues to introduce Youngho, pointing to the previously blushed guys. They shake hands and quietly squeak “Nice”, and suddenly Yuta recognizes the voice he sometimes heard in the background when talking to operator 2810; Sometimes Yangyang allowed himself to sing WAP in the background, which surprised Nakamoto very much if the kid knew about the translation, but his interlocutor did not seem to be surprised, because a few seconds after the start of singing this song, Kun appeared and scolded the boy. - They will soon be taken to our first floor. We will have about fifteen operators, right, Moonie? - asks Suh to the boy’s, who looks so sweetly at the American with loving eyes.

- Yes, we planned more, but the electrician said that if we put them close to each other, this could affect the network and may not get through to the station, - the boss smiles, and Johnny pulls him into his bear hug under the enthusiastic sighs from everyone sitting at the table.

Then a waiter walks up to them and updates the amount of booze on their table. Yuta hasn’t drunk for a long time, almost a year, but it’s time to remember what the taste of alcohol is.

While talking about work and plans for this year, everyone is well intoxicated, and Lucas offers to play Uno for wishes. Of course, crazy desires come to a drunken head: Taeil, as the first loser, is told to lick alcohol from Johnny’s press; then Hendery loses and they told him to kiss with Lucas for a minute (as Johnny later explains, Hendery has been sighing for a long time towards Lu, but Wong does not see it, so they decided to bring them together). In the last game, Yuta loses, and having seen enough desires, which each time become more and more vulgar, he is ready to uncover. This time Kun makes a wish.

-See the guy with raven hair? Come up to him and get his number, - Qian smiles, leaning back on the sofa. Yuta looks around and sees a lonely guy looking at the dance floor. His “victim”, even with his drunken misty gaze, looks great: a dressed shirt that bares a little collarbone, a harness worn over a shirt and lose pants - just a boy for sore eyes. Not doubting that he can easily cope, Yuta picks up from his seat, but sways, since he is helped by Suh, who is sitting next to him.

Nakamoto walks over to the guy who is sipping a cocktail and just seems to be resting. A Japanese man approaches him and, using all his charm, says:

- You, by any chance, are not a frying pan? Because you’re hot, - Yuta winks and grins. The boy hung, as he runs his eyes over the body of the fireman and rounds them. Shock can be seen in his eyes. He understood something, but Nakamoto is too drunk to find out, he only wants to fulfill the conditions of desire.

The Japanese grinned with his trademark smile.

-Did you swallow your tongue when you saw me, dear angel? - Yuta asks, grinning. The guy is down, as he shakes his head and only briefly asks in a voice a little rougher than his own.

- What do you want from me?

The firefighter smiles.

- Just your number. By the way, your voice is so familiar ... but I do not remember where I could hear it, - at these words the stranger’s gaze becomes insane as if it had been opened.

- Um ... It seemed to you. Have you heard a few similar voices in your life? - in neat handwriting, despite the anxiety inside, the boy writes his number and hands it to the Japanese, if only he dumped. He smiles triumphantly.

- See you again, angelic creature, - Yuta says with satisfaction, hiding in the crowd and leaving Sicheng alone.

“Oh no, it’s hardly him”, Winwin convinces himself. When Yuta is far enough away, Sicheng starts to run and quickly closes the door to the restroom behind him. After washing, he looks at himself in the mirror. He just happened to meet a man with whom he flirted so much, and could not even combine words into a sentence in his presence.

He replays in his head everything that happened a few minutes ago. Dong recognized Yuta only from his tackle since his voice, in reality, sounds much lower than on the phone, which the Chinese like to goosebumps. This is unmistakably the firefighter with whom they have been communicating so sweetly for many months.

Winwin imagined him, but not so fabulous ... He once again washed and dried himself with the napkins that hang nearby. This voice, this wink, this grin ... Sicheng is just an idiot that let him go.

Taking the boy’s number, Yuta says goodbye to him and goes to the company, where everyone is already smeared on the sofa in pairs. He puts down a piece of paper loudly, drawing attention to himself, and sits down next to Lucas. He picks up a piece of paper and reads the contents, and only whistles, showing his thumb. The others clap their hands contentedly. Nakamoto, in his joys, hides the number, or suddenly they want to get drunk to meet his “victim” or call.

They have been drinking and having fun for several hours, but the drunk guys do not have so much strength to have fun until the morning. And as the most sober, Kun takes them all home, calling a taxi. When the turn comes to Utah, he is already snoring on the sofa, and Qian cannot wake him up, drags him home.

As soon as he opens the door of his apartment, he dumps the drunken body on a soft ottoman next to the door, closes the door behind him, trying not to make noise. But the Japanese, as luck would have it, wakes up and resents. Qian barely calms him down by sending him to the shower, he will not let him like that on his sofa.

The firefighter, indignant and stumbling, drunkenly swinging from side to side, stomps in the bathroom's direction. He takes off all his clothes and gets up under a stream of hot running water. It’s very relaxing, but not right now. When he finishes the procedures, he realizes that he cannot get back into the alcohol-soaked things, and wrapping himself in a towel, he goes to look for Kun, who is looking for hangover pills in the medicine cabinet.

- Kun-a, I have nothing to wear now. Maybe you can borrow something from yours? - asks Yuta, leaning on the corner. Qian clicks his tongue, surveying the Japanese from head to toe, and then walks into the room, returns with a shirt and shorts.

- Thank you, Kun-a, - Nakamoto was about to climb with his hugs, but Qian stops him.

- Your pills for the morning and water. I made a bed for you in the hall. Good night, - and leaves the kitchen, turning off the light.

Yuta remains standing in the dark kitchen, and later, it looks that it reaches his drunken brain. He turns on his heel and stomps toward the audience. Turning on the lights, he puts the water and the pills on the coffee table next to him, while he looks for the phone. After spending ten minutes on this, he even finds him near the ottoman in the hall. From the cover sticks out the tail of a piece of paper on which he had previously written a number. The firefighter chuckles contentedly and calls this number back.

He gets to the room, turns off the light, settles down snugly on the sofa and dials the number under the light of his mobile phone, but it takes an eternity before the subscriber answers the call.

- Yes? - mutters a voice with a low tone from sleep, which gives Yuta a herd of goosebumps. He is silent for a minute, listening as the guy on the other side comes back in bed and yawns, emitting a kitty purr. - Are you going to speak, or am I ending the conversation? The voice says.

Nakamoto wakes up immediately.

- No. I’m that guy from the club, remember? - the Japanese asks with a heartbeat. Now the silence goes to the other side. The firefighter hears incomprehensible Chinese words, and he is ready to swear that elsewhere he heard it. -When I looked at you, I feel that I have known you for quite a long time. But I just can’t remember where I saw you.

The second caller is silent and then speaks with a somewhat rougher tone than before.

- As I said at the club, many people have similar voices. Maybe you imagined it. - Yuta hears how loudly his interlocutor swallows saliva. - Why are you not sleeping? Don’t you work?

- Yes, I was going to sleep, because in a few hours on shift. - stretched out on the couch, Yuta whispers in a husky voice, which, as Winwin notes in his head, sounds insanely attractive.

- Mmm ... - all that Sicheng answers. - And I’m going to go to visit my new workplace tomorrow, - says the Chinese, and then realizes what Nakamoto said. The Japanese smile from this.

- So you are one operator who will now sit downstairs with us? - Yuta asks, remembering his mysterious operator.

- You make it sound like you already know who’s going to work there, - Winwin says, stretching on the bed.

- Well, I’m already familiar with three, - the firefighter grins.

- I’ve only seen you with two, - Sicheng says in a surprised voice. Yuta raises an eyebrow at this.

- So you saw me with Hendery and Yanyang? - Nakamoto asks. For a minute, his interlocutor is silent, and Yuta bites his lip in anticipation. And then, either from the past tense, or so the shower worked, the gears spin in the Japanese’s head, and he scrolls the vague, but events of the night. After that, his face lights up with a grin.

- I’m ready to argue, my secret operator, I’ll find you tomorrow, - the firefighter whispers into the phone with the same insolent grin. The silence continues on the other side.

- No! You won’t find me! - the voice is indignant with slight notes of panic.

- You will discover, 2810. Sweet dreams, - dropping the call, Yuta has already thought through the plan for the morning.

Two: one

Yuta thinks about the plan to expose Sicheng so much that he falls asleep an hour before the alarm clock. Of course, he did not hear it, as did the next three repetitions.

Only the disgruntled Kun could wake him up, who on his day off wakes up from the Japanese alarm clock at five-thirty in the morning, and to wake the guy up, he puffs water from the spray bottle and scolds. Nakamoto wakes up with the words “Well, if you don’t know how to drink, then don’t drink!”, after which Qian pauses and just glares at him, pointing to the phone.

The firefighter rises on his elbows, straightening his hair, and reaches out to the glass - the events of last night make themselves felt. Having devastated him, he looks at Kun, who looks at him.

- Good morning to you and Happy New Year, - Yuta mutters hoarsely as he gets out of bed wearing what his mother gave birth to. - And what happened?

- Oh, I’ll tell you what happened. First - you ought to be ashamed of yourself. You couldn’t wait till I leave and after that did your striptease? Second - you drunks had very good fun yesterday, so I brought you back home. Third, - he points to the phone, - this devilish brat will wake up even the dead, but not you, and I, by the way, have a day off. Well, fourthly, now it is clear with whom our cute operator was flirting there.

The Japanese almost falls as he tries to squeeze his leg into his trouser leg.

- In the sense it is clear?

- I have ears, I can hear, and I heard your conversation at night, and all the puzzles came together, - Kun smiles.

Nakamoto looks around the room.

- But how did you know about it?

- Well, my boyfriend works with Winwin. And everyone noticed that he had a delightful conversation with someone and more than once at dinner said that he often talks with a firefighter with a charming, deep voice, - Qian shrugs. - And at night, when you were saying goodbye, you called him operator 2810, and I connected everything in my head.

Yuta runs a hand through his hair, creating even more mess on his head.

- Oh Qian Kun, oh Sherlock boy.

He only bows.

- And now it’s almost half-past six and you’re late for work.

Today, a firefighter’s bowler hat cooks better, because the meaning of what has been said reaches him, and without even saying goodbye, he flies into the corridor with a bullet, barely putting on his shoes and grabbing a backpack, flies to the elevator. Taeil-Hyung, although his friend, even comes to work after noble celebrations, despite his condition. And after such a walk, he will check Nakamoto.

After Yuta dropped the call, Winwin’s sleep vanishes.

He spins in bed for another hour and a half, thinking about something of his own. Sighing, Sicheng sits up, shaking his head and driving away various thoughts. This is not the time to think too much. Then his gaze falls on the clock - only half-past five in the morning. It is very early, but if he lies back now, there is no guarantee that he will fall asleep.

Winwin rises quickly, and from the sharp rush of blood to his head, everything floats before his eyes. Deciding that the morning shower can relax him, he grabs the phone from the nightstand and heads to the bathroom. By turning on his favorite dance playlist, the guy by any means tries to distract himself from what happened. But the year has just begun ...

Today he needs to look presentable, as this will be an acquaintance with a new team, although Sicheng deep inside hopes that he will not meet Yuta among unfamiliar faces. The operators wear a loose dress code - a cute New Year’s sweater and black jeans. Examining himself in the mirror, his spinal cord catches someone’s gaze.

-Aahh, Sicheng-a, have you finally emphasized your sweet side, and not dress like a bad boy? It seems that this firefighter flipped the right switch in your head, - Ten smiles, and then walks to the coffee table where Winwin keeps jewelry, and takes out a cute pendant with a star. He walks up to the guy and puts it around his neck, which makes Dong look so soft that he wants to be crushed.

- You made a doll out of me, but I have to work, - Winwin mutters into his reflection, glancing at Ten.

- I’m doing this so you can finally meet your firefighter and stop taking all the oxygen with your sighs about his beautiful voice, - Chittapon shrugs.

- Oh, okay, it was only a few times, - Sicheng rolls his eyes, and then leaves the room.

- Shall I count? Sorry, but not enough fingers. You started the game yourself, - says Ten following Winwin down the hallway and then looks at his watch. - Aren’t you too early? Only seven in the morning.

- We need to familiarize ourselves with a new place, - Dong replies. I just came early to hide and not crawl out of my corner, rushes through my thoughts.

- Good luck at work and don’t be as hidden as you can be. Especially in front of him, - Ten playfully twitches his eyebrows, to which Sicheng once again rolls his eyes and leaves the apartment.

Having broken off with all his might to run, Yuta still arrives at the department before the chief. Nakamoto is thankful to himself for always keeping a spare set of clothes in his locker. Taking off his coat, the Japanese goes to the shower. It is an awful smell of alcohol on him, which needs to be interrupted with something. Fortunately, for the same reason, he bought himself a vigorous shower gel with a strawberry scent, which also works well as a shampoo.

Changing into an elegant white shirt with puffed sleeves and not buttoning three top buttons, Yuta admires herself in the mirror. He twists and turns and then pulls her on his shoulders a little to reveal the view of the chiseled collarbones. He likes to radiate the energy of his grandfather, and everyone who works with him is already accustomed to such a Japanese, giving him a mountain of compliments every time, as if they are seeing him for the first time.

Suddenly, the phone vibrates in the back pocket of his trousers, and it displays a message from Taeil in their work chat on the screen:

Meeting in ten minutes on the first floor.

Nakamoto closes his locker and, winking at himself in the mirror again, confidently leaves for a meeting with the operators, where he intends to reveal the identity of his beloved.

The department is located not far from his home, so he walks slowly, enjoying the frosty winter air and the New Year’s atmosphere around. With a nice Christmas melody playing through the headphones, Sicheng notices a tree decorated by Yuta and Johnny. He has a well-developed sense of taste, so he has the right to dig into shortcomings because in the previous section it was he who decorated everything, for which their department was called the most elegant and ideal - it was simple and tasteful, nothing superfluous. He walks around the tree from all sides, looking at the multi-colored confetti, which is no longer in fashion, Winwin even manages to spy out among the branches a boot stuck in by someone and a used fire extinguisher, which is hung on a branch by a string. Shaking his head, he realizes that this will be a fun department, and just starts to wait for the others, sitting on a bench and taking out his mobile phone to while away the time playing another strategy.

He does not know how much time passes, but he senses someone’s presence nearby due to the strong smell of alcohol and his gaze. Sicheng abruptly rises from his place, frightening the person looming over him, but it turns out to be none other than Hendery, but something in his form is not right - he does not push up, as usual, but looks happy and without the jokes on his face.

- Can I wish you a good morning, or is it better to say good night? - asks Winwin Deri, who with all his appearance shows that he wants to share information about how he spent the night with the very Lucas, with whom they are spreading the site from the excess of stupid ideas that were in their dark heads. - Well, come on already, tell me ...

- You can’t even imagine who I was with today! We first met at the club, then Kun sent us home, but Lucas told the driver to take us to that hill, from where the most charming view of Seoul opens. And then it turned out that we were both fat-headed fools who were embarrassed to confess their feelings to each other, but did not hesitate to create that crazy game for the entire department. And now we, as it were, are meeting, - the younger almost squeaks with happiness, and Winnie, pleased that everything worked out for his friend, approaches him with open arms.

- And who are you leaving me to? Now, among all of us, I am the only loner left, - Sicheng says in a mock sad voice, moving away from the guy. - You, hike, warmed yourself too much because from you it smells of alcohol.

- No, it was Yukhei-Hyung who gave me alcohol for the courage to give him… - Dery muttered embarrassingly, making Winwin touched.

- Just go ahead without details. Of course, I’m glad for you, but I don’t want to be privy to such secrets.

- Hyung ... - Kunhang nudges him lightly on the shoulder, and Sicheng just smiles his most innocent smile.

- I would advise you to run home, change clothes, and drink something from a hangover, otherwise on the very first day Taeil-Hyung will regret taking us.

- I have half an hour left, - Wong says, confused.

- I think it will be closed for you to go to Lucas. - Winwin points out, playfully twitching his eyebrows. - If you hurry, then I don’t even have to cover your ass.

- After what happened, soft chairs would not have interfered with me, otherwise ... - Sicheng interrupts the guy’s words, pushing him towards the house.

- Save me from the details, feets in hands, and run, - Winwin laughs after the guy who is trying with all his might to walk straight, but God only knows how much alcohol he drank for the courage.

Ten minutes after that, the meeting begins - slowly a small number of people from different departments meet and warmly get to know each other, so this helps Winwin to relax a little and forget about the call.

Yuta loved to meet people, because connections, wherever they are, are never superfluous. He stands at the other end of the corridor and, leaning against the doorframe, drinks coffee, examining the newcomers whom Taeil leads around their department and introduces everything around. His eyes immediately lookout for the same guy, so all the time they walk down the corridor, Winwin nervously straightens the edges of his clothes, feeling the gaze on him. Sicheng madly dislikes being studied. “I’m not an exhibit”, he usually says. But here Nakamoto would argue: in the bright light in the corridor, Winwin’s skin looks like porcelain, his profile when he turns his face to Moon’s words “Look left”, as if the jeweler was doing because of these soft lines of his face, and the face itself is so childish and tender, that it is hard to believe that this guy can flirt and even give advice on how to do it right.

Operators and Taeil walk down the corridor, and when they are already disappearing, then from the Japanese, as if a veil of charm falls. He remembers the gathering and, having made himself another portion of coffee, since he did not sleep, goes to a large hall on the second floor, where they usually have conferences.

It’s a gigantic room with a lot of shapeless pillows to sit on and a big projector that their boss likes to display all kinds of statistics, graphs, and figures about the rescued or something. All seats are almost taken, but suddenly Utah notices Johnny, who waves to him on the other side of the “ocean” of people.

Nakamoto sighs, “Could you take a seat in some other ass-place?”, he thinks to himself, but he’s also very grateful to Youngho that he didn’t forget about him. Having somehow reached, he collapses next to him, almost spilling coffee on himself. The familiar red top of Taeil comes out to the projector who congratulates everyone on the holidays, then he apologizes for disturbing those who, in theory, have a weekend, and begins to sum up the past year. All this lasts about twenty minutes, and when they reach the “sweet” - the operators.

- This year we will have an amazing experience with operators on our site. I believe that they, as the main decoration of our department, will give a different look to the main department of the fire department and increase efficiency, we will be able to receive calls better, since now, so that there is no confusion, we will attach a firefighter to each operator to whom he will report accidents cases. For this, I give you a week so that you have time to make friends and choose your partner. This, of course, I do not by order, because I was told to distribute it myself, but it is within my competence to make your already hard work pleasant. So you have time, and I want you all to get along with each other. That’s all for me. Once again - all happy holidays and the beginning of the New Year, which, I hope, will change for the better for many, - with these words Taeil looks at Johnny, who smiles back with his soft smile and shows his thumbs-up: Moon is very afraid of performances, so Suh always sits down near the stage so that if Taeil gets scared, he can find his beloved face and calm down.

The next to go to the projector is the operators themselves, who introduce themselves and talk about some of their interests. When it comes to Sicheng’s turn, Nakamoto puts his coffee cup on the floor next to the ottoman and, resting his face on his palms, looks straight into the guy’s eyes.

Winwin tries hard not to look at this interesting face, but involuntarily he meets Yuta’s gaze, which is why a herd of goosebumps runs down his spine and he stumbles, and the Japanese at that moment innocently slaps his eyes and, covering his mouth, smiles disgustingly.

Dong prays to all known gods that not all firefighters will be dismantled but noticing that most of the operators he knows are approaching their guys, while others are already openly flirting with unoccupied firefighters when he suddenly notices Doyoung who is trying to spy out the remaining guys.

- Hey, what are you standing here for? Taeyong and Yuta are still free...

- Who did you like more? - asks Doyoung watching Sicheng’s reaction.

- What’s the difference? We don’t choose husbands… - Dong mutters as he tries to hide his gaze from the Japanese studying him, turning his back to him.

- I suggest we must play rock-paper-scissors? - Young smiles. - Who loses - goes to Yuta.

- Why Yuta? Why not Taeyong? - Sicheng’s lips are blowing, blushing at the mere mention of this fireman.

- Sicheng-a, lose, for God’s sake. We want to see you two together, - Hendery’s voice suddenly sounds from somewhere behind, causing Dong to jump up and down and then roll his eyes. Kunhang comes up to them, hugging sleepy Lucas, who even looks like he is ready to go to be photographed on the cover of a magazine right now.

- If you continue to shout so loud, then I will let you down the stairs, Yuta is close ... - mutters Sicheng, blushing.

- Let’s play, - Doyoung interjects. - Rock-paper-scissors!

Do fall out scissors, and at Winnie - paper. A happy couple squeaks from behind, and Young smiles nasty and points to a Japanese who is standing and talking to some guy. Winwin gets a little angry with an unfamiliar cute guy near Nakamoto since he already believed that Yuta was in his chains. Sicheng sighs and blushes and heads towards the Japanese.

Coming closer, Sicheng strains his ears to hear the conversation, but when he comes closer, the conversation stops abruptly, - Nakamoto smiles at the guy and nods, saying goodbye. Dong mentally hates him, because even when he smiles, it’s a smile with his whole face, and it makes him feel at home next to the Japanese — safe and comfortable. Sicheng hates to blush.

- Did you want something, dear angel? - Yuta smiles and looks away so as not to embarrass the boy like that.

- I wanted to ask if you are free? - stammering, says Sicheng quickly.

- Alas, but no. One boy took my heart a few months ago, and it seems he has no intention of returning it at all, - Nakamoto shrugs.

- Damn it, I mean, do you have an operator? - Dong blushes, trying to look only at Hendery, who stands in the background with his fingers crossed. Following the gaze of the operator, the Japanese smirks and, while the guy has not yet turned, wraps his arm around his waist.

- Let’s go and discuss, - says Yuta hugging.

If it had been someone else, Sicheng would have already run away and yelled at the entire site, but either falling in love dulls his brains, or is he so afraid - he allows the Japanese to take him to their call waiting room. All the way, Nakamoto holds Sicheng’s waist, stroking the thin waistline with his thumb and tapping with the rest of his fingers. Already just before the door, he releases the guy, opening the door in front of him and letting him in.

The room is medium but quite cozy: Christmas decorations are scattered everywhere, various soft toys that were given by children for the firefighter’s day, and many photos of Yuta with his friends from Osaka.

Winwin looks around the room with interest as his hands rest almost weightlessly on his waist again.

- If you’re interested, you can take and look, - Nakamoto says, forcing the introvert Sicheng up to this point to run like scalded from object to object, looking around. Then he seems to remember his reason for being here, and Dong looks around absently.

- Why did you bring me here?

- So that you do not blush because of your friends, - smiles Yuta, - well, I need to find out how much more time you will play cat and mouse? I’ve already declassified you, operator 2810, - Nakamoto approaches the guy, runs his fingers over his hand. - Why did you start this game?

- I thought everything would remain at the level of flirting. I was very afraid, - lowering his gaze, mutters Winnie. The Japanese man tilts his head to one side, gently pushes the guy’s chin with his fingers, lifting it.

- What were you afraid of?

- That in reality, you don’t like me, - Sicheng says, looking into the eyes.

- Why? - Yuta’s tone of voice becomes more alarming, and his hand is already holding Dong’s hand, fingering the guy’s fingers.

- Well then, in the club ... You were incredible. And you know, that day I made a wish to find my soul mate, but no one came up to me all evening. And when I was already drunk, but still thinking, you approached. At first, I thought it was just another guy for the night, but when you called me ... I sharply sobered up. I was scared to tell you my number, although the drunks remember little, - Sicheng says while Nakamoto listens to him intently, intertwining their fingers.

- And when I saw you, I realized that I would be like an ugly duckling - only I would spoil the whole impression of you. You look like a prince from a fairy tale, and I’m just a free... - unexpectedly, Dong’s confession is interrupted by a soft kiss on the lips from the Japanese, who gently crushes the lips of the guy opposite who have not yet closed.

- Don’t talk about yourself like that, you’re wonderful. You are a little riddle that I have found and I want to solve the rest of my life. I want to love you madly, making you blush, because then your face takes on indescribably cute features, I want to fill you with love in every sense of this phrase; I want to hear your delightful voice; I want to take away every fear and anxiety you have; I want you to feel close it’s cozy with me, because I’m your home, - all this is accompanied by Yuta’s kisses on various parts of Winwin’s face, leaving not a single part of the skin without a gentle touch of his lips.

Sicheng blushes at these words.

- So you’re not mad at me for my stupidity? - Dong asks when the Japanese man stops kissing the operator and puts his arm around the waist, pressing him against the wall.

- Of course not, silly, - the Japanese laughs. - I can’t be angry with such a miracle. By the way, can you teach me a couple of flirting tricks? Are you my operator now?

- I’m yours for a long time, you just didn’t know about it, - Sicheng chuckles while gently kissing Yuta. - And you have not yet learned how to flirt with such a guy?

- Well, why not? I need a professional opinion.

Winwin chuckles, waiting for Yuta’s answer.

- Can I borrow a kiss? I promise I will return.

Dong blinks his eyes for a moment, and then pulls the Japanese into a kiss, biting his lip slightly.

- Would such an answer suit you?

- So ... I did well?

- A kiss is not enough? I expected everything, but not this. It was powerful. You make me happy, - smiles Sicheng, reluctantly moving away from Yuta.

They have a special love - they don’t need a lot of words, just a few touches or the light presence of the shadow of a kiss on each other’s lips is enough to feel loved and desired.

#fanfic #nct #nct 127 #wayv #winwin #yuta #taeil #johnny #lucas #kun #yangyang #hendery #ten #firefighter #call #attempt to flirt

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emiisanxious · 3 years

Text

Surprise is the WORST

Archive of Our Own Link

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Archive Warning: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Category: Gen

Fandom: Sanders Sides (Web Series)

Additional Tags:

Anxiety | Virgil Sanders' Birthday

Angst with a Happy Ending

Panic Attacks

Sympathetic Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders

Sympathetic Deceit | Janus Sanders

Summary: “Roman had a BAD idea, a really bad idea, and while everyone agreed with that, it put Virgil in a bad frame of his mind, till he had a panic attack.

OR: I'm bad at doing a summary and this is a Birthday fic!

Although this fic is part of a series, it doesn't need to read the previous chapters. But it's more understandable why Janus and Remus are more different.

[Series: Virgil's Past and Future - Fics: Ignorance, Next Day in Ignorance, Sick Day]”

Note: But but I needed to do a Birthday fic for Virgil, soooo here it's!

For once, he wasn't sure how he felt about today. No one could say when exactly Thomas started to have Anxiety, so he didn't have a birth date. Although, he would question if traits should have a birth date since they are not human? But the fanders and Thomas decided that today was his birthday.

So he wasn't sure how he felt today.

He was rolling on his bed thinking about it; in theory, it was already his birthday. After all, it was 4 in the morning, but no one was awake. He decided to gets up and goes to the kitchen so he could drink some water.

Should he be happy? Or should he ignore it and think about it like any other day? It was confusing and weird. Last year his birthday present was doing a Halloween-themed video on Christmas eve, Virgil honestly had way too much fun dressing as a vampire.

And the year before? It was that weird 12 days of Christmas song that Roman created, even though he won't admit it, that was fun. As they said, it was a video to commemorate their first Christmas together.

But this year? This year they didn't have anything planned, sure Thomas would do a live stream for patreons, and that was enough for Virgil to feel anxious and be awake so late in the night. But his family? They didn't say anything about it. They weren't thinking about doing anything at all, in all honesty, they were preparing a Christmas party. After all, it would be with Janus and Remus.

Shaking his head once, trying to dispel whatever he was thinking, he got up from --- When he sat down in the sink? And walked back to his room, sure he was thinking way too much like always. Throwing himself in the bed, way too lazy to change his clothes or undo his makeup, he snaps his fingers, and with that, he was already in pajamas and a clean face.

"I'm thinking way too much... When did I start to care about birthdays?" He says at his room, as he closes his eyes, picking his earbuds and phone, playing some music. "Time to sleep." Even though he said that it would take at least one more hour till he finally was sleeping.

-----

"Are we really doing that?"

"Yes! Of course, we are!"

"But won't he feel more anxious?"

"He will be anxious anyway because of the live stream."

"Yeah... But..."

"It's not like we are harming him."

"But he will be anxious! Isn't that a good reason not to do this?"

"Just... Try to relax, okay? He will like it... In the end."

"Okay... Don't let me alone then."

"We never intended to."

-----

"Viiiirgiiiiiiiiil ~!"

A singing voice was knocking and almost yelling outside of his door as he growls, slowly waking up. "WHAT?!" He was a bit annoyed by been awake with so much happiness at what? 9 am? "It's 9 am ROMAN!"

"I know, Emo." Roman opened the door and was now leaning on the door frame, crossing his arms over his chest. "But we need you to wake up. Thomas needs to prepare for the living stream."

"He can do that without me. Just let me sleep a bit more." He says as he pulls the blanket over his head, trying to hide from the light coming from his door.

"Won't you eat something for breakfast?"

"Roman, I stayed awake till 5 am I barely had 4 hours sleep. If you don't want me freaking out during the live stream and making Thomas anxious all day, you better let me sleep!" Virgil was annoyed, almost slipping on his tempest tongue.

"Fiiiiiiiiiine. Padre said he would let something for you to eat on the fridge." With that Roman was out of his room, closing the door.

Sadly, that was enough for him to wake up. He was tensed and annoyed, and sure he wasn't going to be able to sleep back. A loud growl as he gets up and starts to do his morning routine.

That was also enough for him to start to spiral in thoughts once again about his birthday. That is how he messed up doing his make up twice, once applying the eyeshadow how it was supposed to be used, over his eyes. And the second time, he just forgot to smudge it, he remembered when he was holding the doorknob to go out. The second time was more easy to fix.

He put on his headphones instead of his earbuds, as he goes out of his room, playing some punk music since if he needs to stay awake all day, he might as well. Virgil ignored everyone who tried to say anything to him till he did his coffee and drink it.

Honestly, he tried to ignore the spiraling thoughts as he finishes drinking his coffee, sitting in the chair. A small tap on his shoulder was enough for him to remember to take out the headphones. "Morning Pat."

The man was smiling softly. "Morning kiddo. Did Roman woke you up?"

"Yeah... Something about the live stream..." Virgil says in an annoyed tone.

"Well, I'm sure he totally did that not on purpose." Deceit said as he gets in the kitchen. Picking up another cup of coffee. "Also, morning Virgil."

"Morning Jan." He sighs again as he yawns. "Yeah... I figured that much."

"Oh kiddo, maybe you should try to sleep a bit more later?"

"Will do... Maybe a nap, later in the day." He frowns a bit, sure for now that Patton would at least remember and comment about it, right? Or was he thinking so selfish about himself? It was Patton! He would remember, right? Even Janus remembered when he was still on the Dark side.

"Virge? Can you help me decorate the Christmas Tree?" Morality asked casually, breaking his spiraling thoughts. "Janus and I, are in charge of that, while Logan is busy helping Thomas with the tech stuff. Roman and Remus are brainstorming."

"Sure." Right he forgot, his birthday is like five days before Christmas Eve, of course, they would be more focussed on decorating and preparing for that! After all, it would be their first Christmas with Remus and Janus. With a small sigh, he didn't mind, he was the one who said he preferred not to do a big deal over things. So why he felt so... Sad?

After his breakfast, he did help Patton and Janus decorate the tree, this year they also created yellow and lime greens decorations since now they had two new members in the family. He was free after lunch, which did him goes back to his bedroom.

Pulling the blanket over his head, he felt bad and selfish, he felt... Sad. Forgotten. That wasn't good. Even though Remus, Roman, and Logan were back during lunch, they also didn't say anything. He won't mind the awkward 'happy birthday' wishes, at least he would know that they remembered.

But... Remember what? The first time he appeared? How did Roman, Lily, and Thomas want to get rid of him? Or to tune him down. Or how bad he was. Who would want to remember that? Who would want him here in the first place?!

Was that their way to show that they didn't care about him? Nooooo... They totally did care about him! Otherwise, Roman wouldn't wake him up, or Patton wouldn't want his company to decorate the tree.

He could see the shadows in his room getting darker, he didn't need to get up to figure out that his eyeshadow was also darker. "Better sleep..." Virgil sighs at that as he closes his eyes, not bothering with anything else. He would do the live stream, and then he would just forget this day.

-----

"I'm not so sure this is a good idea..."

"I'm inclined to agree with him."

"You two are just worrying too much!"

"Yeap! He will be fiiiiine."

"Hm... You know I don't think this is a good idea either..."

"OH MY GOD! You three are worrying too much! He will love the surprise! Just think that!"

"This is a mistake isn't it?"

"YES!"

"NO!"

"I will talk with Thomas."

"Nooooooo!"

"Yes! If he agrees we keep this, if not we will just try to fix the situation."

"He is sleeping..."

"You won't want to wake him up."

"If we need to fix the situation then we will do after he wakes up."

"I told you it was a bad idea."

"It's a marvelous idea!"

"I think he will agree with me when he finds out."

"Of course he will! Making him anxious about his birthday is NOT something nice!"

"Oh, please, he is anxious all the time. It will be fine."

-----

When he woke up later, he felt groggy, he wasn't sure what time was, as he sits on the bed. Yawning as he picks up his phone. Oh, nice he was late for the stream! It was already 5 pm! Why didn't no one... They didn't care about him, did they? At the realization, he just throws himself back at the bed, not caring about it. If they didn't care about him why he would go there?

Instead, he just stayed there. Laying on the bed, scrolling on his phone, happy birthday wishes on the fandom, he saw fan arts, he also read some fanfics. It was fun, to see how the fanders would celebrate his birthday. Maybe he should go to imagination visit Emile and Remy, but he couldn't bring himself to do that.

In reality, he couldn't bring himself to go out again, he didn't want to see anyone, he felt hurt and sad that no one remembered his birthday.

-----

"Virgil didn't wake up yet?" Thomas asked as he looked at Logan.

"Well, if he did wake up he didn't go out of his room." The logical side answered as he fixes his glasses.

"I told you that was not a good idea!" Patton said as he was holding one hand on Janus's arms, trying very hard not to show how sad he was.

"Well, I agreed with Patton after breakfast." Janus sighs as he looks at them. "But the Twins."

"HEY! It's a fabulous idea! He will love it when he sees it!" Roman says as he puts a hand over his heart offended.

"He will love all the decorations! It will be like Halloween!" Remus says happily that he was able to work with gore and blood decorations.

"That is not the issue here." Thomas sighs.

"How are you, Thomas?" Logan asked curiously.

"If you're asking if he ducked out, no, he didn't. He is still around. I still feel anxious about the live-stream. And all. Oh... I need to go!" Thomas says. "Break is over."

"Okay." Patton and Janus weren't looking happy. As both took parental figures they were still worried about Virgil.

"Well, I will finish my gift! While one of you go pick him up!" Roman says happily as he sinks out.

"Oh Oh! I will go there and make sure all the decorations are right then!" Remus was hyped as he sinks out as well.

Logan, Patton, and Janus sigh at that. "Logan can you...?" Patton asked with a small sad sigh.

"Yes, you both try to be happy that is ending at least." Logic says as he starts to walk towards the purple door.

Patton and Janus sighed at each other, honestly, that was a dumb idea. Both knew that mostly because Patton's emotions was been a bit pessimistic, probably was Virgil not controlling his powers, and Janus was used to dealing with Anxiety before so he knew how the other disliked surprises.

-----

"Virgil?" Logan knocked at the other's door, he felt a bit more cold than normal.

"One sec." He was rolling on his bed as he gets up and walks towards the door, opening it. At his point, he didn't care if his room was darker and colder than normal. "Sup specs. What you want?" His eyeshadow was darker, as he was affected by his room more.

The navy trait frowned at the vision, blinking a few seconds. "Are you okay?"

"Totally." He lied as he shrugs.

Logan didn't believe it but he let it go. "I need your assistance in the imagination if you up to it?" He wasn't the type to stall so Logan was straight to the point.

Virgil tilted his head to the side. "Sure." He closes his door and lets the headphones around his neck as he follows Logan around. At this exact time, he felt depressed and honestly tired from thinking how much the fanders were nicer to remember his birthday than his family.

The walk was silent, he wasn't sure what he wanted to talk with Logan and neither if he should tell anything. A few moments later, they were in a darker room, and soon he felt more anxious and aware. "Logan? Are we... In the right place?" Fear started to creepy on him.

"Yes. We are."

His vision wasn't adapting to the darkness, slowly he could feel fear and his breathing was starting to uneven. Did they finally got tired of him and wanted to... Make him disappear? Or to merge with the subconscious? No... He was too important for that... Right?

He was lost in thoughts, but he couldn't miss the flash of light and everyone yelling: "HAPPY BIRTHDAY!"

His lips paled, as he fell hard on his knees, holding a hand over his chest, he wasn't able to breathe, his vision was blurry with dizziness and he was trying very hard not to cry.

"I told you it was a bad idea!" Janus said pissed, as he walked towards Virgil. "Vee, look at me. Hey!" Deceit moved his hands in front of Virgil. "Look at me!"

He did that, although he wasn't able to focus exactly on the half-snake face.

"Can I touch you?" As the yellow side receives a nod, he moved his hand to pick the other, sitting on the floor with him in his lap. Hugging him. "Hey close your eyes and follow my breath right?" Another nod as Janus started to count the breathing pattern and as well exaggerating his breathing. "You're doing great Vee. Keep going."

He focused his sense towards Deceit, following his breathing, everything felt numb, he could barely hear Patton scolding the twins. Logan couldn't say anything as he just watched. "Virgil?" A few minutes later he was back to normal, as he moves his eyes to Janus. "Are you okay?"

"Mhm... I guess?" He still felt anxious, he still felt weird, and he still had a lot of thoughts in his mind. "You all didn't... forget?"

"No, Vee. We could never." Janus said as gently as possible.

"So... You all don't wanna make me... Disappear? Or... Hate me? Or or..." Virgil's voice falls in silence as he tries to tell out his thoughts.

"NO!" Deceit yelled, although it did scare Virgil. "Sorry, I didn't want to scare you." With that, he hugged the anxious closer and tighter. "No Virgil, whatever you thought today, we don't want to. We care about you, we love you."

"But..."

"I'm sorry kiddo." Patton finished scolding the twins. "Roman and Remus said it was a good idea to fake we forgot your birthday... While they planned a surprise party. We told them it wasn't a good idea but they didn't listen."

"We are sorry..." The twins were looking at the floor, embarrassed. "We thought... If you don't like it we can leave or..."

It took several minutes, for everything to be explained and to get to the point where Virgil was stable enough to understand and calmer. After that Janus helped him to get up on his feet. Logan and Patton weren't sure what they should do, and the twins were still looking embarrassed.

"I... Okay... Can we... Just... Celebrate it today and... Talk about it tomorrow? I can be angry and annoyed with this tomorrow... Right now... I think it would be better if I..." Virgil was lost in words as he tries to explain.

"Of course we can!" Patton smiled at that, as he moves to let Virgil look around.

It was a room with black walls, the ceiling was decorated with moon and stars, meanwhile, the walls and the furniture were based in the Victorian Era, it was remarkably edgy, they avoided spider objects but he could see the cobwebs decorating the room.

He smiled at that, even the cake and the sweets were in black and purple, bringing a sense of Halloween in the middle of Christmas time. "Let me guess? Patton did the cake, Janus did the sweets and both decorated it."

Patton and Janus smiled and nodded.

"Logan helped to decorate the ceiling because he wouldn't like the wrong representation, and with the furniture. While Remus summoned it and helped decorate with cobwebs. I bet he also used the spiders in my room to do that."

Both also nodded.

"And Roman had the idea and put it together, yelling and saying who was late with what. And helped to create the room?"

Everyone laughed at that. "Hey! I didn't yell!" Roman sounded offended at that. "You was bossy." Remus pointed out. "Even though we all were doing things..."

Virgil looked at them arguing like brothers and then around, he could see the thoughts behind the decoration and was chuckling at that. "Right both of you shut up." His family was there and everything was like he dreamed about. "Thanks. I loved it." Sincerity as he turns to them. "Now let's party!"

He honestly wasn't the type to party, but... He wanted to enjoy it. He cared about the birthday and if his family wanted to celebrate it with him, so why not? He could loosen up and enjoy it, the rest of the night was fun, Janus was taking pictures instead of participating but sometimes he would be dragged to play. They played, they laughed, forgetting all the problems for a moment and... Just enjoy the celebration.

"Hey, did you know today is also National Emo Day?" Logan said nonchalantly.

"Whaaaaaaaat?!" Janus and Patton were surprised by that.

"Oh, that makes sense! It's Emo day! After all, it's Virgil's Birthday!" Roman said happily about that.

"Uff... That was bad." Virgil says while eating a sweet. He couldn't deny that he felt happy to know about it as his eyeshadows were a constant purple now, that he felt really happy with the party.

#Virgil Sanders #Roman Sanders #Remus Sanders #Logan Sanders #Patton Sanders #Janus Sanders #C!Thomas Sanders #fanfic

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darth-salem-emperor-of-earth · 4 years

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Character Interview

Got tagged again by @highexarchs again for this meme so I decided to pick another character of mine for this. :D

(Art by @rayeliann)

► Name ➔ “Seung. I gave up my family when I left my tribe many years ago.”

► Are you single ➔ “It’s rather complicated but given to all the odd or harrowing adventures I’ve had with the ghost of the notorious Count Lucio, I don’t think I can say I’m single nor do I want to be.”

► Are you happy ➔ “Right now, I’m more stressed and lost than happy. Apparently I died and yet I’m still here, walking around. I want answers and I want them immediately.”

► Are you angry ➔ “No, not today. Just frustrated instead.”

► Are your parents still married ➔ “They were still together when I turned my back from our clan so as far as I am aware, they are still married.”

NINE FACTS

► Birth Place ➔ “In the Southern Spines.”

► Hair Color ➔ “Black.”

► Eye Color ➔ “Violet. It’s a rare gene in my family.”

► Birthday ➔ “June 29th. Are you planning a surprise for me?” Her eyes twinkle with anticipation as she leans back in her chair.

► Mood ➔ “A combination of stressed, weary, and hungry. I should have eaten more cookies, like Lucio suggested earlier.”

► Gender ➔ “Female. Next question.”

► Summer or winter ➔ “I remember how blisteringly cold the Southern Spines were in the winter and loathed all that snow. I much prefer the summer time.”

► Morning or afternoon ➔ “The morning. I love watch the different colors slowly bloom across the sky when dawn arrives. ‘Tis a lovely sight.”

EIGHT THINGS ABOUT YOUR LOVE LIFE

► Are you in love ➔ She toys with with one of the jewels around her necklace. “Perhaps...perhaps I am. It feels as if I’ve been in love with him for such a long a time, even though I only knew him for such a short time.”

► Do you believe in love at first sight ➔ “No, I don’t. Only in stories can such an event exist and take place.”

► Who ended your last relationship ➔ “I have no memory of the last few years of my life, which is odd in of itself, so I’m not sure if I was involved with anyone or not. But I do recall my younger days, when I was barely sixteen, in love with a brash lad with a similar personality to the count. My parents were displeased with the notion of me consorting with someone from a rival tribe.”

► Have you ever broken someone’s heart ➔ “I may have but I do not know for sue.”

► Are you afraid of commitments ➔ “Not really. I shall only commit to the right person, someone who isn’t afraid of committing to me as well.”

► Have you hugged someone within the last week? ➔ "Technically, Lucio hugged me first so naturally, I had to hug him back or else he'd pout at me. His pouting face is so very distracting."

► Have you ever had a secret admirer ➔ “If I do, I have no idea."

► Have you ever broken your own heart? ➔ "Thankfully, I haven't. My memories are a bit hazy regarding the last few years but I cannot recall ever putting my heart through a pain like heartbreak."

SIX CHOICES

► Love or lust ➔ "Lust is easier to manage and eventually, it fades away. Love though? It's so unpredictable. But... I'm starting to like it again."

► Lemonade or iced tea ➔ “Lemonade! It's such a lovely blend of sweet and tartness."

► Cats or Dogs ➔ “Dogs. And I am very fond of Melchior and Mercedes."

► A few best friends or many regular friends ➔ “Just a few best friends. I only want the people I care about the most and can trust implicitly to be in my life."

► Wild night out or romantic night in ➔ “Wild nights are more of my thing. I enjoy spicing up my night and having a good story to tell the next morning. Or perhaps wake up next to a certain blonde, fabulous disaster who with the most unapologetic look on his face."

► Day or night ➔ “Day. More animals for me to hunt and besides, most of my work is best done in the daytime rather than being bath in the moonlight."

FIVE HAVE YOU EVERS

► Been caught sneaking out ➔ “Yes, and it ended badly for me. My parents were furious when they realized who, not where, I was sneaking off too."

► Fallen down/up the stairs ➔ She scoffs. “I am far too agile for that. I'll have you know that I posses quick reflexes."

► Wanted something/someone so badly it hurt? ➔ “In my lost memories, from what I can glean, I believe this happened to be once or twice. I remember being young and wanting things no one in my tribe should desire. Lucio helped me indulge in those urges, saying what was the harm in getting a few trinkets and fancy items to myself shine." A small smile stretches across her lips. "Even then he had a way with words."

► Wanted to disappear ➔ “Nope, never felt that way before."

FOUR PREFERENCES

► Smile or eyes ➔ “For me, it’s all about the smile. The right one can draw you in and make you feel wanted, valued--beloved even.”

► Shorter or Taller ➔ “I have no preference over height. It means little to me.”

► Intelligence or Attraction ➔ “Hmm...this a tough one. I’m going to say both. I’d like to have both.”

► Hook-up or Relationship ➔ “Previously, I’ll say hook-up for I wasn’t ready to commit. But now, after so much that has happened and realize I died of the plague and somehow came back to life...I don’t want waste anymore time or deny my feelings any longer. I think by now, I’m ready to try my hand at an actual relationship.”

FAMILY

► Do you and your family get along ➔ “By the gods, no! Once I left the tribe to pursue my own goals and life, they practically disowned me. I’m dead to them. I doubt they would speak my name to others.”

► Would you say you have a “messed up life” ➔ “To some, they might view my family’s austere code of a true, honorable warrior and nomad as extreme. And I would concur with that assumption sometimes. However, overall, I say my life had several messed up moments but such fuckery doesn’t determine my entire life.”

► Have you ever ran away from home ➔ “Yes, and it was for the best.”

► Have you ever gotten kicked out ➔ “Well, it was a mutual banishment. I left on my accord while my parents claimed they exiled me.”

FRIENDS

► Do you secretly hate one of your friends ➔ “Well, I secretly hate at least one of Lucio’s...companions. I will not say which one but besides that bothersome toad, I am warming up to the others. Lucio likes to surround himself with a colorful bunch, I must admit.”

► Do you consider all of your friends good friends ➔ “I am closer to few friends than others but everyone whom I consider a friend is in my circle for a reason. If I knew I could not rely on them, then I wouldn’t label them as a trusted companion.”

► Who is your best friend ➔ “Oh, I can’t decide on that! Asra, Portia, and Julian all fill that role. I can never pick just one best friend.”

► Who knows everything about you ➔ “That’s Asra. He knows things about me that I’ve forgotten and I’d like to know how. Always likes to act so enigmatic and cryptic with me when I ask.”

#Seung #The Arcana #arcana apprentice #the apprentice #apprentice #OCs

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morethanaprincess-a · 4 years

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@trinitytalents said: 👫

Send ‘👫’ for the mun to introduce you to a npc in my muses life.

At least the day had started well for Valentina, Queen of Novoselic (nee Borghese, daughter of the Duke of Orelli). As soon as the clock struck five, Gabriel had slipped from between her bedsheets and tiptoed to the door after kissing her forehead. As usual, she'd lazily tried to grasp his hand or shoulders, sleepily uttering that she commanded him to return to bed. And as usual, he'd whispered something terribly naughty he'd do to her later if he wasn't otherwise occupied as the Head of Novoselic Castle security. As soon as she watched him retreat into one of the two hidden passages connected to her room, she'd rolled over only to awake at a far more appropriate hour of 10 AM.

At precisely 10:15, a maid entered with her breakfast tray, perfectly portioned servings of wheat toast with accompanying jam, a bowl of fruit, yogurt, and a vegetable drink, which Valentina pinched her nose before downing first. This had been followed by Daphne, her senior secretary (the other two had been consigned to email and letter duty until noon) and her tablet. While older and far too smiley for Valentina's liking, she could ignore the woman's graying copper hair in favor of her knowing when to be silent (during her Japanese dramas) and how to tell the difference between eggshell and cream when it came to table linens (Valentina had fired secretaries for less). But most importantly, she knew that when it came to their Head of Security, he was an off-limits topic in anything but the professional sense unless they were alone.

"Your Majesty will be pleased to hear that your fine arts charity for high school students in Novoselic has had a 25% increase in donations this year, with several patrons attributing your gifts and galas as the cause," Daphne beamed as she interrupted her reading of Queen Valentina's unusually light schedule. But in comparison to all of the appearances she'd put in lately with Alexandre busy in Council sessions, a moment to breathe was hardly slacking. "Naturally. Thank you, Daphne. That will be all until the afternoon." She'd replied loftily, but deep down she was near to exploding from joy, both from the news as well as the laptop that rested beside her on the bed. She had important personal business to see to that morning.

Important business that was now threatened by Emelia, the Queen Mother. Just as Daphne swept from the room with a bow of the head, she'd nearly bumped into Alexandre's mother and Novoselic's past Queen. Emelia was in her seventies, kept her hair far too long (and terribly raggedy in the morning), and now had a tendency to visit her daughter-in-law during breakfast ever since Sonia was sent off to Japan for school. When the Princess still lived at home, she commonly ate breakfast with the woman, if just to spare her mother from her grandmother (or the other way round). While she was intent to savor the peace of her toast and Christie's online auctions, the Queen Mother had her usual morning plan in mind.

"Yes, please set the tray there Henri," The septuagenarian insisted, gesturing to the low table she wanted the footman to set her own breakfast tray down on before, perhaps more insistently, pointing to the TV, "And move the TV closer so I can hear. Channel 5!"

"Emelia, I am otherwise occupied," Valentina shot her mother-in-law a stern look, setting down one of her toast points. For the past week she'd been in a bidding war during Christie's annual online handbag auction with, if the username was anything to go by, was that socialite bitch from Singapore made fabulously wealthy twice over due to her high-profile skincare line and equally high-profile divorce from an airline CEO. The Queen's last six trips to Hermes' Faubourg store hadn't resulted in the Himalayan crocodile Birkin she wanted, no matter how much both the manager and Pierre-Alexis Dumas, the brand's artistic director, phoned to apologize. So now she was stuck bidding at Christie's against her Singaporean rival, who somehow still looked twenty-five at fifty, married a man at least ten years her junior, and already had three Himalayan crocodile Birkins, two of which had diamond-encrusted palladium closures (Valentina may or may not have watched her closet walk-through several times and deemed real diamonds on handbags to be tacky and reeking of 'nouveau riche'). She wasn't about to let the woman who defied the test of time add a fourth to her closet when she'd yet to obtain her first. "Must you enjoy 'Wake Up with Wanda' in my presence?"

"One should never have breakfast alone if you want to maintain your health," The older woman nagged, settling into the sofa with her own breakfast tray of oatmeal and toast. "Besides, Wanda's interviewing that handsome Pokora fellow this morning and he'll sing after!" 'Wake Up with Wanda' was the new edition, if fifteen years of hosting could be called new, of the previous morning show 'Rise and Shine with Richard.' Both shows aired on Novoselic's secondary news channel, NTV2, and primarily focused on current events, culture, and gossip. Emelia had fallen in love with it the moment Richard, when he was still young and dashing, interviewed ABBA and had promptly taken the Queen of Novoselic's call when she'd telephoned to tell the quartet how much she adored their records. A private concert later and she became one of the show's most prominent patrons for the past 40 years. Emelia insisted it kept her up to date with 'the young people.'

"You only care for M. Pokora because he covered a song by Claude Francois," Valentina quipped, hastily punching in a new number onto the Christie's website. Take that, Singapore Bitch and monster-in-law.

"Who adapted the song from The Four Seasons," Emelia was elderly but not senile, and was determined not to be outdone. She gave her daughter-in-law a triumphant nod. "Could you pass the raspberry jam? Somehow the kitchens ran out this morning and poor Alexandre, he had to have his toast with only butter before meeting the Council."

Valentina scooted to the side of her bed to hand it gently to the woman, no matter how much she wanted to chuck it at her head. At least she hadn't mentioned ABBA, her true musical love. Valentina herself had enjoyed her playing 'Mamma Mia!' over and over until Sonia, as an infant, was given a paternity test. Now she suspected the woman played it in the Queen's presence just to remind her of the plot of the ABBA musical, where the protagonist's daughter could have been fathered by three different men. Before the test came back confirming Alexandre as Sonia's father, the musical's plot was perilously close to real life. Every situation Emelia could highlight Alex's misfortunes had been capitalized on ever since. "I shall speak to Daphne about ordering more after breakfast."

"Good!" She grinned, taking another bite of oatmeal as her gaze flickered back to the TV. "Novoselic Castle should always be kept up to standard, after all."

Valentina sighed, pushing down her desire to scowl and groan at the same time. The woman had never accepted her son and his wife were in a loveless marriage with no cure. At least, for now, she was 30,000 euros in the lead for her new Birkin-

READ THIS.

An email, sent to her personal account from Daphne, popped up as the auction entered its last three minutes. Finally letting out a groan, She opened her email to find only a URL in the body of the email, something that would take her to a Japanese site. "This better be important," She grumbled, clicking it.

It seemed to be a journal of some sort, written in Japanese with plenty of discussion about fashion and style for teenagers, popular culture, and so forth, with far too many 'kawaii' touches for her liking. Belonging to a dark-haired girl with a red bow, her content varied from her fashion to interviews, often featuring fellow teenagers likely close in age. Valentina felt her eyes glaze over until she tore her gaze from the sidebar to the first entry at the top of the page: Hope's Peak's Ultimate Princess, the Princess of Novoselic Answers YOUR Questions!

"Oh dear God," Valentina gasped, clutching the sides of her keyboard as she began to scroll. There was her daughter, bright and smiling in an outfit she'd never have let Cecily approve of for her as she chatted amiably on video with the dark-haired girl. The goal was to find the person behind the Princess and find out what being Royal was really like, according to the introduction. The Queen froze at the sorts of questions the girl's 'fans' apparently wanted to know: Did Sonia have a significant other? Did the Castle still have in-use torture chambers? How big was her closet? Nothing about her various charity work in Japan, professional appearances, or even the positive highlights of their country's history. Just glamour and gore. Exactly the sort of interview she'd been trying to fend off from Novoselic Daily News, who'd been promised Sonia's next interview once she'd finished with UK Tatler and Japan's NHK.

And if Daphne's capital letters were any indication, it was likely NDN's CEO had already gotten whiff of Princess Sonia's unauthorized interview to a complete amateur.

"What in the HELL is she thinking!?" Valentina cried, all but forgetting her precious Hermes and Emelia, reaching for her phone to fire off a phone call which, unsurprisingly, went unanswered. She had no choice: she'd have to corner her daughter by text.

I know you are ignoring me, Sonia. You will call me as soon as you receive this message unless you prefer to be put on your plane in the next hour and flown straight home.

#more-than-a-princess answered #more-than-a-princess memes #(Sonia's relatives apply throughout most of her verses and with most of my writing partners)#(But here's a scenario that takes place after our last thread)#trinitytalents #NPC drabble meme

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shooter-nobunagun · 6 years

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Alabaster 1/2 (R-18)

//Been a long while since I wrote any drabble/stand-alone stories, let alone a fluffy one that didn’t involve smut or angst (lol). Kinda sensual, but nothing explicit. HAHA JUST KIDDING 🙃

Edit 1: This was supposed to be a fluffy drabble but it turned into more fleshing out/nuances of ‘how e-genes work’ in the canon sense; especially since Hisa-sensei recently answered a bunch of questions on Twitter regarding more mechanics of e-genes and the like, I wanted to explore those ideas (and now I realized that a lot of my stories might not match up canonically. Whoops).

Edit 2: There wasn’t supposed to be smut but then...smut... *sighs* I guess that’s what happens when I don’t give my muses smut for a long time...

Edit 3: Adding smut made it get a lot longer than just a drabble....why me

Warnings: suggestive sexual content

Smooth, unfettered, and perfectly pale-white; like looking at one of those marble statues carved by the great masters, to her it seemed almost as if she were gazing at an art piece, so perfect was his figure.

Well, truth be told if she ever told her husband she thought him equal to a Roman god, he’d just sigh and roll his eyes. Sio clicked her tongue wryly and decided against waking him up just to tell him such a particular comment, instead filing away said tidbit in the back of her mind. Maybe later, such as when she needed to appease his ego and get him to ravish her senseless. Not that last night had been unsatisfying by any means, oh no; rubbing her thighs together slightly, Sio letting the tingle of faint pleasure run through her spine. They said on average it took about half a year for pregnancy to go from planning to actually happening, and seeing as how they were coming up on their fifth month of trying...

Though personally, if remaining non-pregnant for a few more months equated to some more intense lovemaking sessions, Sio had no qualms about that.

A soft sigh on the bed beside her, Adam turning over just slightly on the pillow but otherwise remained unmoving. His hair, which was just as pale as his complexion, fanned out around his neck and the top of his back--which, Sio discovered, was not actually completely white but upon closer inspection, was dotted with a tiny band of very pale freckles, just across the top. She’d discovered this adorable feature after lounging over him one day, lazily enjoying the feel of his skin against hers while tracing imaginary patterns between them.

‘Ooh, you’ve got freckles back here!’ Sio exclaimed with a squeal as her fingers smoothed across his muscular back.

‘Oh, guess I do...not that I’ve paid much attention. Probably too much sun...’ Adam replied blithely, trying not to let on he was actually ticklish near his hairline.

Sio only smiled before placing a light kiss right between his shoulder blades. ‘Well, I think they’re cute. It looks nice against your skin...kind of like, stars. You know, like how the Milky Way has all those tiny little stars?’

At this comment Adam rolled over, forcing Sio to get off. ‘Stars? You always have quite the imagination, love...’

She giggled a bit at that memory, not in the least because it led to some of the most intense sex they’d had in a long time. Silently she traced the hard ridges of muscle along his back, marveling at how perfectly etched each line seemed to be. Back when she’d first walked in on him changing--an accident, truly--even with that irksome attitude of his, she couldn’t help but be captivated upon the sight of his muscular backside, not super-macho but a solidly-built figure with strong arms that felt wonderful to be held in...

A surge of heat pooled between her legs and Sio had to resist the urge to slip a finger down there. In hindsight, perhaps graduating from an all-girls high school had some downsides...

Beneath her the sleeping wolf was finally stirring, no doubt awakened by her feather-light touches as they dipped below his waist. “Hmmm...well I suppose that’s one way fer a wake-up call in the mornin’...”

“Ah, ohayou, Adam...”

He blinked those sleepy emeralds at her, clearly amused by her wandering hands as he rolled over and stretched, Sio shamelessly taking advantage of the view to burn his fabulous six-pack into her mind. “Don’t tell me yer thinkin’ of spicin’ up the morning already...it’s not even,” he glanced briefly at the clock, “9 o’clock yet...”

“Wee-e-l-ll, I mean it’s up to you,” she suggested coyly, “’cause let’s be real, when would I ever pass up the opportunity?”

He smirked at her response, running a hand through his bangs before he sat up and pulled her into his lap. “Actually, I can think of a few. But let’s not talk about that right now...I was thinking of some tea first, maybe? Perhaps a bite to eat?”

Just as he finished the sentence her stomach rumbled, Sio turning a dark shade of pink while Adam quirked a single white eyebrow. “Er, okay--I guess breakfast sounds pretty good right about now...ah ha ha, ha...”

“Right-o. Well, let’s rustle something up first, shall we?” He gave her a light kiss on the forehead and, despite being married and now attempting to start their own family, Sio still couldn’t help but blush to her very roots. “Oh Sio, you’re as cute as ever...”

“A-Adamu...” she muttered, his name taking on a more Japanese-accent than usual whenever she got flustered. “Sometimes I still can’t believe it...that, this is real, and it all happened...even though it wasn’t really that long ago, it feels like a lifetime, almost...”

He stared at her for a few seconds, before pulling her into a warm embrace she eagerly returned. “Same here, love...sometimes I almost forget I still have someone else’s DNA floating around my veins...but, I wouldn’t trade any of those struggles for this. For you,” he emphasized, touching their foreheads together. “Sometimes I find myself thinking about how much I changed, from before I met you to...now.”

“Yeah, you were kind of a jerk back then,” she shot back dryly, “but you were also...honest. And you still are, which is good. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I find myself missing your sarcasm sometimes...”

He let out a bark of laughter, shaking his head slowly. “Well, if you really miss it that much we can certainly arrange something...” his voiced trailed off slowly as her fingertips traced his skin once more. “...Something else, love?”

“Eh? No, it’s just...I guess I never realized how many scars you ended up getting, too...” Her eyes dimmed a little, mouth forming a thin line as she traced that particularly nasty gash along his left side, which never disappeared after that first battle in Taiwan. “Maybe I’ve just gotten used to them, but when you actually look...”

“Don’t worry about it, squirt,” he gently took her hand and laid it to her side. “Like I said, these are nothing; if anything, I could say the same to you...”

That horrid memory of when she lost control, and the only means to save her was a literal knife through the heart in the heat of the moment...despite the sensual mood she woke up with, Sio found herself quickly losing interest on that front, replaced with a need to simply feel him here, to reassure herself that what happened in the past was long ago, and nothing would happen to them now.

“Ah--Sio? You all right?” Adam was a bit alarmed at her sudden embrace, but didn’t hesitate to hold her tightly. “Hey...sorry, didn’t mean to bring up bad memories...”

“No...I brought it up first, so it’s not your fault,” her muffled voice came from his chest. “Mmm...I love you Adam...I love feeling you like this, touching and being with you and stuff...it feels so nice...and you smell nice, too.”

“Uuhh...hmmm....” Adam could only give a wordless, half-mumbled reply, not sure how to respond. Sio was sweet and honest, but surprisingly conservative with her words; rarely did she so earnestly declare her feelings for him, instead preferring to show it through physical acts or other small quirks. Adam on the other hand, despite his aloof appearance and often dry wit, never failed to shower her with affectionate quips whenever she was feeling down.

How different things were now, compared to when they first met; after joining DOGOO he’d quickly earned a reputation to be snarky and acerbic, the loner who preferred to do things his own way simply because it was easier than attempting to get along with everyone. Even his first words exchanged with the sniper were decidedly less-than-kind: jabs about her lack of skill, her inexperience, chastising her to stay out of his way and ‘leave it to the professionals’ and to not show any signs of weakness...Adam couldn’t help but smirk wryly to himself. Oh, how shocked his peers would be if they knew how drastically he’d changed. It wasn’t that they no longer teased or sparred with words--but rather, the circumstances changed. It pained him slightly to remember how often he’d put her down in the beginning, but looking back, perhaps it was a sign of his inexperience in forming relationships with others, be it friendship or something more. Being a loner for much of his life made it difficult to gauge others, to know who to trust and how to show that trust; the only way to protect yourself was to hurt others before they hurt you, or else drive them off, because the pain of betrayal was even worse.

He looked down at the woman in his arms, who was now nuzzling and resting her head comfortably against his chest. Who would’ve ever thought his type would be petite brunettes with flat chests? Adam sweatdropped a little as the last thought floated through his head; while it was true he judged people more on personality than appearances, his imaginations used to be about the typical ‘full-figured’ women much like their friend Jess Beckham, although he should’ve guessed that wasn’t the case the day he first met the blonde formally, and then proceeded get assaulted with an overzealous tongue--he shuddered slightly even now. No, love was more complicated than that, and now he found himself very much enjoying her lithe figure, the way she fit so nicely against him and how perfectly each breast could fit into his palm...he shifted his legs slightly, hoping Sio wouldn’t notice a rather suspicious hardness near her bum...

“Oh, sorry...am I sitting on your legs? Sorry...” Before Adam could say anything she scooted back onto the bed, to his disappointment. “Anyway, no matter how you change, you’ll always be the same Adam Muirhead to me. E-gene holder of Florence Nightingale, and one of the world’s saviors.”

“Hah! Shouldn’t I be saying that, Miss Sio Ogura? E-gene holder of Oda Nobunaga and Kaoru Asao, master tactician and the one who actually saved us all by ending it at last?” He teased, tapping her on the nose.

“That’s Mrs. Sio Muirhead to you, Mr. Muirhead,” she tapped his nose back. “Even though I still miss Asao-san...at least, I guess she’ll always be with me...in a manner of speaking...” Her eyes took on a distant look as she hugged herself. “I’m kind of jealous...I wish I could talk with my e-genes the way you do with Nightingale...the most I ever get are just one-way images and thoughts, not an actual conversation or anything like that...heck, I can’t even see them most of the time, and when I do, it always feels more like a dream...”

“Eh, to be honest, it’s not really something I’d wish on anyone...” For reasons none of them fully understood, not all holders could communicate with their perspective e-genes on the same level. There had been a report one time with Saint-Germain and Vidocq theorizing about the supposed levels of synchronization between holders and e-genes, and the different factors that affected it (personality, mental state, genetics among others) but Adam only remembered hearing the beginning before zoning out into a quick doze, the presentation not even half over.

Still, out of all the holders he was probably one of the most perceptive, the only one who could actually see and hear them as he would a regular person; often seemingly lost in thought as he listened to the voice inside his head, even interacting with them as he would a real flesh-and-blood human. Though research in this area wasn’t definitive, he gathered most other holders didn’t even see or talk to them, or if they did, it tended to come in dream-like fragments and memories, much like how Sio re-lived Oda Nobunaga’s memories to tap into his strategic prowess. “Seriously, it can get pretty annoying at times...not to mention creepy, now that I think about it...” Adam’s faced darkened as he remembered the number of times Nightingale seemed to just choose his path for him--whether it was something as innocuous as which shirt to wear after a shower or menu item to order, or (his face blushed darkly at this memory) Nightingale’s shocked expression when he was staring at two smutty DVD covers, unconsciously asking her which one to indulge in. But those were just trivial things he usually didn’t care about (except maybe the porn, which was one incident that never repeated itself again); in the heat of the battle, like that time when she forced his hand and turned his eye towards the target on her heart... A shiver ran through him and he held her a little tighter, smoothing out stray strands of her chestnut hair. “Trust me, it ain’t all it’s cracked up to be. I mean, if you think about it, it’s kind of like having an audience in your head all the time, whether or not you want it...”

The words seemed to have an effect on Sio, as she slowly digested their exact meaning. “Wait, so does that mean Nightingale can see what you see too?” Adam nodded. “Whoa...whoa, hey wait a minute, does that mean she can see when we, we’re...you know...” Her face flushed a brilliant red, her expression a cross between embarrassment and indignation. “Oh my god...! And what about my e-genes...just because I can’t really see them doesn’t mean they aren’t...spying on us?! Even Asao-san...! Oh god...our e-genes are peeping on us! Aaarrggh!” Sio punched her pillow in frustration. “Oda Nobunaga, if you’re listening--and I bet you are, you sneaky bastard--I swear, one day I’ll get you for being a perverted old man--!”

“Hey hey, calm down Sio, I doubt--well all right I can’t guarantee anything--but at least I know, Nightingale isn’t aware of everything I do,” Adam hastily moved the remaining pillows out of her reach before she could chuck them. “It’s more...complicated than that. I mean, it’s...” he sighed, wondering how to best explain this intangible yet crucial bond between an e-gene and holder. “Think of it this way: yes, Nightingale may always be in the passenger seat, but ultimately I’m the one who grants her access to what it is I’m experiencing. And I can assure you, she’s never once barged in during any...intimate, moments.” Or at least he hoped so; Nightingale was a fairly straight-laced woman, but sometimes Adam sensed a bit of mischief from her as well.

‘You’d better not be peeping around, you old hag...’

The words did little to calm Sio down however, her face still a brilliant shade of red as she hugged the pillow tightly. “Mo--ou! I can’t believe this...how come they can see us but I can’t see them...this sucks...” she pouted, although in reality there was not much they could do. E-genes were a pretty permanent part of them; the only reason Oda Nobunaga’s influence had diminished so much was precisely because Adam cut out the abnormal growth from her heart--taking much of the e-gene with it and only leaving just enough for her to manifest a hand cannon. “Well, I guess it is what it is...the price you pay for becoming a hero...”

“Don’t fret too much, Sio. I doubt they’d really do anything against your wishes,” Adam tried to reassure her. “At the end of the day, they are, first and foremost, looking out for our best interests. If you really don’t want them interfering in our lives, they won’t.”

“Hnn...Asao-san and Nightingale I can believe, but Oda Nobunaga...I dunno...” she muttered, glancing at him with wary eyes. “Don’t get me wrong--it’s not that I resent or hate him, even after what he did...after all, Hunter did tell me about the theory of e-gene corruption after so many generations, so I can’t exactly blame him, especially when he has helped me out so many times...but I mean, he is known as the Demon Warlord for a reason...”

That, and it was just slightly disconcerting to realize all the potential moments she could’ve let her personal thoughts and emotions slip through... ‘Then again, aren’t I supposed to be his reincarnation or something? So theoretically, I am Oda Nobunaga, as well...’

“Oy, cheer up love.” A gentle pat on her head brought her out of her thoughts. “I doubt it’s the disaster you’re imagining it to be, demon lord or not,” he gave her a reassuring smile. “I’m sure Asao-san won’t let that git do anything. And worst case, if I do ever catch him peeking out...well, rest assured he’ll hear it from me. If anything, I’ve probably got more t’ worry about...”

“Huh?”

“Well, you know what they say--out of sight, out of mind, right? Kind of hard for me to do since I can’t exactly turn off this ability...” Vaguely he wondered if his keen perception of e-genes wasn’t also tied to the ‘Voice of God’, that allowed him to view things others couldn’t. To his immense relief, nothing dubious had happened yet, but lately Adam couldn’t help but feel as if there were some invisible pressure that was...judging him, particularly when it came to making sure Sio was fully satisfied...

‘You say Oda Nobunaga’s the one to worry about, but why do I have a feeling it’s your friend Asao who’s the real concern...’ Suddenly a cold chill went down his spine, and he wisely decided to stop the train of thought right there and then.

“A-Anyway, don’t worry about it, squirt. I’m sure it’ll be fine,” Adam swiftly changed topics before Asao-san really decided to come out and give him a piece of her mind. The last thing he wanted or needed was to get lectured on his performance in bed and the ‘proper’ way to please Sio from her best-friend-turned-e-gene, in full view of his own e-gene and that crazy warlord. ‘Besides, I’m her husband for Christ’s sake, I’d like to think I’ve got this down pretty well, thank you very much...’

“I hope so...but I guess you’re right, you can’t have your cake and eat it too. If having to put up with this means I’ll always have Asao-san with me...then I’m willing to accept it.” Sio unwound her arms from the now-crushed pillow, sinking backwards in exhaustion. “Oh man, that was a mental exercise...I’m tired again...”

Adam couldn’t help but smile, Sio’s whimsy really was too adorable at times. Some might mistake that for air-headedness, but he knew better than that. “Or, perhaps we can finally have some of that tea I mentioned earlier...?”

“Mm, can you bring it here? I’m too tired to move...” She grinned at him playfully, knowing full well Adam could never deny her requests. “Besides, if it were me, I’d probably spill half the teapot and drop the cups before I even made it back...”

That brought a roar of laughter from the man, who only shook his head but proceeded to get up, tying a yukata loosely around his waist for some modesty. “Of course, of course...sit tight, be back in a few...”

Sio only smiled wordlessly, taking another shameless peak at his chiseled ass before it was covered in the white cotton. When the heck did she go from a blushing, nose-bleeding, innocent high schooler to a shameless pervert who wasted no opportunity to catch her husband naked...sighing, she simply chalked it up to another one of those changes that occurred as you grew and went through life--or perhaps she’d never been that innocent to begin with.

Now that she thought about it, it would probably take Adam a decent amount of time waiting for the water to boil, then picking just the right blend of tea for this morning (he was quite peculiar about having a certain type depending on the mood), then letting it brew for the correct amount of time, not to mention fetching a matching set of cups and saucers...all told, it would probably be at least 20 minutes before he came back up. Which, her mind hungrily suggested, should probably be just enough time for some quick self-pleasuring...

Before Sio could weigh the pros and cons and even with the slight warning that her e-genes might possibly be aware of her actions, a hand slipped between her thighs, a finger gently caressing her pink pearl as tingles of pleasure instantly started running through her body and she felt her muscles start tightening with anticipation, her folds becoming moist with arousal. One aspect that surprised both of them was how high her libido was; even though she basically never masturbated or even thought about such matters before meeting Adam, in hindsight perhaps all that lust had been channeling into her military obsession, and only after meeting him did it find another outlet to express itself...

“Oh...god, it feels so good...” Moaning quietly to herself, Sio spread her legs a little wider, her fingers now soaked as she pumped them in and out, enjoying the sensations of something sliding against her g-spot. Her nipples were stiff and sensitive, her free hand wandering up to pinch them slightly and her walls convulsed around her fingers from the pleasure. At first she was concerned if she could finish before Adam came back but at the rate her body was heating up, she’d be lucky to last another 5 minutes at most; her libido, combined with a wild imagination as Adam’s smooth, pale warmth came back into her mind, caused Sio to feel horny beyond belief. Her body was sweating as she arched against the sheets, torn between drawing out the pleasure or just letting it all go into one furious orgasm. ‘I-I can’t believe...how good this still feels...e-even, after all this time...!’

Panting, she propped herself slightly on the pillows, gazing at her own naked body as her hand worked itself furiously between her thighs, Sio getting incredibly turned on as she watched her own fingers pleasure herself. Her juices were streaming down her fingers onto the sheets, and the musky scent of arousal caused her to moan with ecstasy as she recalled all the times Adam ate her out, tongue licking and teasing her swollen pussy. Maybe it was the thrill of trying to discreetly masturbate while her husband was downstairs, or maybe she really was just a shameless pervert, but whatever the reason, this time all her senses seemed to be turned up to 11--every touch and sensation threatened to send her crashing over the edge, her insides throbbing in time with her pulse as her fingers rubbed tight, little circles around her clit.

A slight whimper escaped her lips but she bit it down, careful to not let her voice get too loud. Another aspect they discovered (and Sio was embarrassed by) was her tendency to be quite vocal during sex. Whether it was dirty talk or begging to be fucked raw, or the random stutters and and moans she uttered, it was a good thing they didn’t have neighbors to contend with...

“Oh...ooh, god...I’m close...” Her bud was tingling with pleasure and the heat swelled until she was sure it would burst, Sio writhing hard against the bed as her thighs started trembling in anticipation. ‘It’s good...it’s so good...feels good like this...’ Her hand moved faster against her insides, back arching as Sio dug in her heels for the inevitable climax. “Nnnngg...! Mada...!”

Her breathing all but stopped, all senses now focused solely on the fingers pulsing against her g-spot and the single digit caressing her swollen clit, Sio clenching her teeth and biting her lips as the pressure built to its highest peak...and a second later she crashed over helplessly, gasping hard for air while her body shook unevenly, hips thrusting against her own hand as she moaned in pleasure. The sheets were damp underneath her crotch, fingers now sticky and wet as her juices dripped out as she sighed in limp satisfaction. Lazily she glanced at the clock, which indicated a mere 12 minutes had passed. That, combined with the fact she didn’t hear Adam at the door yet meant she’d successfully masturbated while her husband was unaware, so she proceeded to shut her eyes for a quick rest while she waited his return.

Or at least, so she thought...

#documentation #!nsfw #my sweetest one #//why #//do drabbles never stay short #//and fluff #//turns into smut #//I JUST WANTED SOMETHING SWEET AND SIMPLE BUT LOL NOPE

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themadameditor · 6 years

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This summer is a special one for me, because last summer I was in hospital for most of it and spent the rest of it on steroids and a host of there medications, swollen like a blowfish, and getting better. I am still in the course of treatment, but a long way away from where I was last year, feeling much, much, MUCH better, and planning to live every freaking moment of the summer and beyond. I am not a huge fan of the summer, the heat on my skin, the humidity; Britain has the most humid summers… but I vividly remember myself last year hoping and praying that if I make it out I would live that cliche of living my best life. And I’m trying y’all, I really am.

This summer has been glorious, actual sunshine and heat, hotter than an Indian summer if you’ll believe that and come the first of August we are counting down the days to Autumn zooming right past it to the thick of winter. By the end of August we are talking back to school and back to real life for parents and children and the grind of things. But we have now before then, so let’s plan to live the hell out of the summer and make some good memories that can keep us going till the next summer. As I type this, it is pouring down with rain outside my window, bang in the middle of this blazing summer we have torrential rain and thunder storms but I am not mad at the in the least, we need the rain, farmers need it for the soil to keep feeding us good food in season, we need the rain to clean all the humidity and gunk from the pollution the earth is suffering.

This list is a guideline, if you do one thing on it fabulous. Ten? Grand. All? Fantastic. the aim is to live your best life, (said in my best Oprah voice). So let’s get right on into it shall we?

1. Sleep In: August is heaven for everyone, everywhere, no school in session, family holidays, blissful commute into work because trains are not crowded…it is the perfect month to sleep in and catch up on the hours lost to sleeplessness, work and all nighters. Sleep in and get your energy right on balance, and catch up with your body and reacquaint yourself with her natural rhythm.

2. Let your body wake up naturally: see number 1. Get rid of your alarm clock and let your body wake up to the sound of birds and the rise of the sun. Even if it means going in late for work or missing our on the morning calls. Better still no calls until noon until the summer is over.

3. Read two books: something old and something new. For something old, if you have never read it, read Lucky Chances by Jackie Collins. For something new read an Italian Holiday; a book about four women getting away from the ish of their lives in London and holidaying in Italy. Bonus points; read my book. 😉

4. Have a Day-cation: binge watch some shows on Netflix and Amazon. A couple on Netflix: Luke Cage, Drug Lords, Chef, North & South; okay, more than a couple. Amazon: The Bold Type- I really like this show, it is set around three women working the fashion industry, publishing specifically, and yes the three girls can be annoying and atypical at times but it is a far cry from the Devil Wears Prada, which shows of this ilk tend to slant towards. My favourite character is the Editor In Chief. She’s cool and the type of person I would like to believe exists in the industry. Another show and one of Amazon’s best creation is Bosch- this is my absolute favourite show on Amazon, detective Hieronymous “Harry” Bosch, central character in the dark crime drama set in Los Angeles. Binge watch all four seasons in one day and thank me later.

5. Go to a music concert: I’ll admit I am not a huge fan of concerts, crowds make me anxious and the moment gets lost in the melee. Give me a couch and a big screen TV and I’m good, but its the summer and we are living it up so we are taking our fly selves to a concert, in the Park, or at the Albert Hall or maybe something more low key and free; the ever faithful underground busker… whatever floats your boat just go.

6. Plan a night in Paris: be impetuous, call your girlfriends or go SOLO for a night in Paris if you’re close enough.

7. Do something fun in Paris: a fancy meal at L’Orangerie @ George V perhaps, or afternoon tea @ Le Bristol. Go to a museum, forget the Louvre, D’Orsay is my favourite museum in all of Paris. Be a cliché and have expensive hot chocolate at Cafe de Flore. Walk around and marvel at the astounding beauty that is Jardin du Luxembourg; my favourite place to be in Paris.

8. Return from Paris: with pastries from Pierre Here and spend the evening drinking champagne before bed.

9. See a play in the west end: Its a shame that Baba Segi’s wives is not in theatres anymore, but there is always something on so scroll through timeout or art reviews, pick a small theatre, they normally have good plays and go see it, for the culture and for support. Or if you can get tickets, you should go see Hamilton. It is quite simply the greatest show on earth.

10. Go Clubbing: re-live your youth and party in heels that hurt, a dress that is too short, full face of makeup. Flirt with handsome men, exchange numbers for the night. Jump on the night bus home and stop by the kebab shop before you make it home at six in the morning.

11. Babysit your nieces, nephews and god-children: preferably not right after your wild night out in the club.

12. Throw a fabulous dinner party: for friends and catch up on the good times you had.

13. Get lost in London: it’s a beautiful city to get lost in and no matter how many times you roam it, every corner is a surprise.

14. Picnic in the Park: Hyde Park is so beautiful, so vast, so lovely all year round but nothing beats it in the summer. Grab a picnic basket, bottle of chilled champagne, meats and cheeses, fat strawberries and cream, salads and go chill in the park with your bestest

15. Call an old friend: we all have that one friend we have lost touch with, call them up, check in with an old relative, see how they are doing, and say a prayer for the world.

16. Clean your skirting boards: as a matter of fact, clean the whole house, organise your closet and take excess to charity or give them out to family or friends who want them. Live light and let light in.

17. Organise your christmas holiday plans: have a white Christmas or escape somewhere tropical. Do something fun and unusual this time.

18. Get your low maintenance beauty routine on point: the summer is no time to bother with too much make-up because the humidity will not let you be beautiful and great so fine-tune your best make up, no make up look that won’t be a victim of the humidity. Paint your nails, scrub your feet and moisturise them. I love this foot cream, from Burt’s Bees, 100% moisture all day. Don’t be ashy this summer.

19. Plan your wardrobe ahead: make this the summer you wear the prettiest dresses. If you can, and I know you can, plan all the dresses for the 31 days in August.

20. Spend some time being alone: check yourself into a hotel or stay indoors, order room service, go dine out alone or cook yourself a home-cooked meal… do something for you and all about you, get to know yourself better and enjoy being in your company.

21. Spend time with family: I have an awesome family and we are all scattered around the world but in each other’s lives through phone, texts etc. When you can, drop by your parents’, call your brother, sisters, aunts, uncles… get the barbecue going and enjoy being in the company of loved ones.

22. Go to a quiz night at your local… I know, I know but try it its so much fun

23. Spend a Monday by the sea: away from work and the hustle of every day life

24. Write a short story: it can be about anything you want at all, just carve out sometime and put words down to paper.

25. Take a leap of faith: If its a bad decision, learn from it and move on. Enjoy the rewards of a good decision, pay it forward pass on the good feeling

26. Take a day trip outside of London: a summer’s day punting on River Cam, taking a literary tour of Oxford, or walking the bucolic lanes of the Cotswolds… do something that takes you out of the big smoke.

27. Take a digital detox: nowadays, a lot of things on social media make me so damn mad and I find myself engaging with crazy people but I have cut back on my time online and it has done me a world of good. Social media is both good and dangerous for you, find sometime to be ignorant of the shit that can sometimes go down on there.

28. Go to bed late, wake up later.

29. Eat dessert as a whole meal.

30. Fall in love with your life all over again: Be intentional about this and make sure you love your life. We are all going through things, the world is a shitty place to be sometimes these days but here is the thing; you only have you at night when you look yourself in the mirror. Be intentional with loving yourself. Please.

31. Take it all in: Take care of yourself. Check your breasts, drink lots of water, eat well, eat in season, moisturise at night, exercise however you can, limit your meat consumption, use sunscreen, my sister, use sunscreen.

To the summer of our lives.

31 Days of Summer This summer is a special one for me, because last summer I was in hospital for most of it and spent the rest of it on steroids and a host of there medications, swollen like a blowfish, and getting better.

#31 Days of Summer #August #Bucket List #Featured #Summer

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kateemmerson · 6 years

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Confessions of a location free maverick - it's over!

Confessions of a location free maverick – it’s over! How the Pretend Cat and the Pet Rock are changing the landscape of my life. I find it deeply ironic and bizarre how I can go from travelling the world with ridiculously minimal belongings (even minimal for miss LIVE LIGHT, LIVE LARGE over here) and living mostly out of a suitcase for the past 2.5 years … to buying Tupperware, water containers, dishcloths, coffee plunger, bins and gasp of all gasps, kitty food – because I suddenly find myself with a “pretend” cat and a huge pet rock! Neither of which will fit in my suitcase, which can mean only one thing – a little home again.

Chances are you might have some insight into my motto, my life work and how I have been gallivanting around the world to speak, run writing retreats, masterminds and work with the YPO? And laze on beaches of course! Yet with this lifestyle comes the highest of global highs and the lowest of lonely lows.

Every decision we make has consequences on all sides. There is really no such thing as a decision that doesn’t have pro’s and con’s. That’s delusional. It’s just about choosing the ones that you most prefer, that bring you more joy and meaning, isn’t it? It’s not that any decision is better than any other one. And decisions are never usually forever are they? We get to choose and re-decide further down the line, whether about how we think or what we own, to what we do in the world and where we live.

I have been living with the consequence of choosing to have no home for the recent past. It’s a feeling of deliriousness combined with displacement. Sometimes it is truly a joyful experience, easy to broadcast on Instagram pics, carefully curated into an authentic feed, or a hopefully motivational post and pics of exotic food whilst lounging by the sea. New spaces, places and delights at every corner. Yet it’s not ALL wild, laugh-inducing adventures and Pollyanna playtime.

It’s also the polar opposite – sometimes a scary, wide open world knowing no one, needing to constantly be wondering where the next pit stop is, can I convert enough ZAR into USD to survive a northern currency, where will my work call me to (from Lagos, to Dubai to San Francisco), other people’s reactions to being “homeless” when I say I am #locationfree. Yes, but where is your home, Kate?

I have personally found that whilst my senses are constantly being awoken and titivated, it’s simultaneously a tad grueling on my body and takes me longer to adjust to new surroundings to feel totally integrated. I have stayed in the best of 5* hotels, to revolting homes I housesat (that really should have been a three week, massively paid declutter job). I do find it easy to feel at home in someone else’s space, but have become way more susceptible to the energy of the house and how it impacts me. So it has been in short, the past 2.5 years have been a profoundly intriguing, enlightening time.

Being a #locationfree maverick naturally takes some toll on my committed relationship with ENP and yet also provides us both with space to really miss each other. Even when I do make Lesvos, the world renowned Lesbian pilgrimage island, (where the 10th muse and lyrical poetess Sappho was born), my destination of choice. He doesnt batt an eyelid- and that tells you everything about him! Friends delight in my pics, tales and gifts, but also beg to know when I’m coming “home” – I remind them I don’t call SA ‘HOME’ anymore. You know how when you speak to people in the UK (yes Mum, that’s you!) and they bleat on about the weather? Well, pretty much every time I speak to a dear friend they cannot help themselves but ask, “so when are you in SA again”? I have done my best to implore them to not say when are you coming “home”. Or even when are you BACK. Those words imply it will suck me back into its clutches, and SA honestly is no longer home. It’s a beautiful and complex place that for many decades was my home, where I still work and see ENP and my friends. I have awesome clients there and … it is simply no longer my home! I am being called north again, and have been for the past 4 years, ever since I first traveled to the USA. So, I typically say I am simply where I am right now and thank God for the likes of Skype, Whatsapp and Zoom.

At the start of this process of packing up my home in JHB, I always knew I would be location free for a year at least; then after a year had flown by I had no desire for it to be any different; my travel trajectory was as delicious and busy for the year ahead, so I just kept at it. Living with 90% of my belongings with me, three boxes in storage and traveling to places MOSTLY in summer or the shoulder spring and autumn to obliterate the need for huge bulky clothes.

But towards the end of last year, even though I am in a beautiful, committed relationship to a man who just adores and trusts me to live my life with no betrayal to us, and vice versa, I found myself feeling somewhat lonely (whilst meeting new people everyday), restless (whilst constantly moving), bored (even though I see and experience more in day that some do in a year) and just a tad unsettled (yet this was my very own choosing wasn’t it?)

The irony of this insight is never lost on me.

Enter a pretend cat and bit pet rock!

It is not about needing to be in ONE PLACE forever; I am not that type. I have gypsy energy in my very DNA, and love traveling just so much. But after not having anywhere other than my heart and body to call “home” for 2.5 years, I was starting to inch towards the idea of a little space I could “claim” as my own. ENP is unraveling his life in SA too, and these global swallows need a new nest/s.

I remember the day I was housesitting the most GLORIOUS home right on the San Francisco bay, in Pointe Richmond and having this feeling of being so blessed by the beautiful home I find myself in whilst I travel, but I suddenly had this overwhelming longing to have a space for me. A space where I might be able to leave a costume and a pen, maybe even my art. A space I could imprint myself on. It was a little bit of a surprise. It also took the natural transition of my 50th Birthday in April this year to shift me into this next phase. I needed to close out some big commitments before I had the space for this phase.

So the logical heartwarming place for my first little space in the northern hemisphere was Greece. I am even toying with the idea of buying a home, but am rather just putting my feelers out this year. Getting to understand the lay of the land. What is it like to have another little base and how does that impact my life and me again? And others around me? And so, in the gorgeous, remote and truly authentic Greek village called Skala Eressos that I have been visiting for the past 3 years (with writers on our retreats), a space where I have built a community and with one of the most beautiful beaches in all of Greece, I found myself negotiating a contract for a light airy apartment for a year. A year!

Confession #1: It IS totally glorious to say I have a place I can call home EVEN though I will also “rent” it out to visitors, friends and colleagues. I have the coolest pet rock (see below) – my nan used to paint rocks so this is highly divine for me – but yikes, it’s a biggun, and will never fit into a case, so I guess I am destined to stay a while. See pic of beautiful rock complete with my name! It all came about when I asked my landlady if she had any door stoppers, a huge grin erupted on her face and she said she had a rock half painted, and she would complete it for me. All my favourite colours, the coolest of flamingos and my names emblazoned across it, lest I forget where I am.

Confession #2: Having a kitty on my bed again makes me deeply joyful. When my beautiful landlady said yes I could claim her little apartment as mine, she said I was an angel for her, but the truth is she is an angel for me. Letting me love her kitty, bringing me oregano bouquets, painting me my very own pet rock as a doorstop so I don’t wake the whole village when I sneak out to write my morning pages on the verandah, lending me a bike, fixing stuff I ask to be fixed and just being delightful – along with FANTASTIC English.

Confession #3: I am startlingly amused by just how insanely fast I wanted to buy “STUFF” Not a lot of stuff, for sure, but it is still amusing. And I want my Nan’s hand-made patchwork quilt here on my bed – NEXT TRIP! Unless you are coming to visit and will bring it with? And how Mum gifted me the most exquisite handmade, olive wood TAVLI – Backgammon set! Oh, the joys of a little place for STUFF!

Confession #4: I am plotting my return here – my coming BACK HOME. I have already started inviting friends here, seeing as I never pulled it off for my 50th earlier this year– 51 seems just as fabulous a time to gather on an island! Perhaps I can also entice my Mum to visit a second time with the pretend promise to eat more meals at home to stretch the budget.

Confession #5: I fell off my bike and swore like a trooper – because my sundress was hitched around my thighs and I got stuck as I hurled myself towards the pavement. It was a “boy” bike with a big crossbar and so as my huge, white sun hat flew off my head when going down the hill, I panicked and tried to slam on breaks to run after my hat before it picked up pace across the fields, never to be seen again. I just couldn’t extrapolate my legs and dress in time and got caught up in a heap. Tears welled, words flowed and I cannot tell you the relief after I had embarrassing walked my bike home with a bleeding toe and bruised ego, grease filled legs and finally turned the corner and saw “My home”.

Confession #6: Kitty food is now on my shopping list again. And I have a pet brush. Everyone laughed at me when I said I wanted one, but I found it in the Euro shop, and this kitty just LOVES being fussed over! Every now and then it feels like a betrayal to my beloved Stripey, but Nikos is my “pretend cat”. He is not really mine; I know that – just that we get to love each other furiously when I am here. When I told Ms. S that I was letting Nikos, the #gingersnap cat sleep on my bed, she nearly fell off her own feet. You are crazy Kate Emmerson. And yes I am, but when I walked home last night after devouring the most delicious “orange pie” oozing with syrup and a creamy cappuccino to wash it down, my heart did a little skip when I saw Nikos waiting for me at the end of the road – a bit out of his usual comfort zone. My Greek is shocking, so I speak to him in English, (other than a strong reprimand of OCHE when he wants to get agro) and we ambled off down the road side-by–side, ready for a little cuddle.

Confession #7: Yes. I miss you, ENP. Every day! But you are in Russia at the world cup with all your Argentinian lads, doing what you love to do, and that makes me happy! Enough said we will entwine again in a few weeks when in the same country again.

Confession #8: I deeply love that my office of choice, Gialos on the platea, has exceptionally kind owners, friendly kitties and the most heavenly view on the planet! Along with great coffee, conversation and a way to observe this little village and all its folk – from Drug dealer, to prostitute to writers, foreigners who return year after year after and the locals getting ready for thier work day. A great place for writers to simply sit and observe…

With love from me, to you, from Skala Eressos and my new “home” – for now x

(And yes, I will be IN South Africa for August and September for work :) )

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Morning pages ….

Confessions of a location free maverick – it’s over! was originally published on Kate Emmerson - The Quick Shift Deva

#changes #location free #new era #transformation

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optimisticnightbear · 3 years

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What happens when I enter a portal part 9

I was resting in the bed door locked raiden was in his enteral form training me in martial arts I douged this attacks both turns but I flipped him to the ground helped him up commenting*”You did every well goddess”*I bowed to raiden he did the same to me*”Thank you lord raiden “*my alarm on my phone went off raiden hugs me I do the same*When I wake up*I get ready for work uniform everything else shinnok amulet on my neck mask on after I was ready with raiden’s hat on for shade if needed got the training bag teleported to the base in a bolt of lighting* When I come to the base*I went to sit down seeing sonya johnny was with her meeting her on time for my duties they saw me showed me my locker with the combination put my training bag with raiden's hat off to my hand making it disappear the locker locked it put raiden give me a warning as johnny holding the door for us said* “Morning goddess” *going for breakfast meeting the team I respond to johnny*”Morning johnny”*”Watch out for anything that is a threat to the realm goddess”*I said*”Yes lord raiden”*cassie with the others asked*”Where is our goddess?”*I sensed there excited and nervousness meeting me when I walked in with sonya johnny they saw me finally cassie commented*”She is here get your food first”*they all nod as we all get our food johnny almost got too closed as he got his drink I got it before it with him johnny was embarrassed also replied looking at the blood red eyes*”Hey thanks for doing that”*I responded back*”Your welcome johnny”*walked to my team sitting down shocked to see me asking*”Do you mind if I sit here?”*the commander said*”Yes you may”*smiled with the commander moving a little with the honor of seeing me as their goddess working with me raiden made a comment*”I see they are honored to have you as their goddess”*I blushed a little*”I think so lord raiden”*we had our breakfast talking about all the tech stuff I had seen they were amazed listening*After all the introductions*we got Id cards to go in the tech room going to work closing the door all of it ready to a welcome message all realms see a at little less in all of them my team had found the black dragon with the red sending the work to sonya as past raiden was their to take them down fujin joined as back up we caught them with shang tsang we were behind the computer tracking them with a drone*At the time to go home*I got out of the tech room with all our screens with our names on it we all enjoyed working together got my training bag in the locker room unlocked my lock as past raiden fujin saw the work form the screen at the same time ,I come out in a blue mortal kombat hoodie training bag on my shoulder strips on all of a sudden young johnny sees me about to go home I feel young johnny making a smirk looking at the goddess eyes*”Goddess you and ra-dude doing anything interesting?”*wiking as he tried to get close to me raiden was infuriated making my eyes have lighting with my body I felt rage form him and me raiden asked*”May I speak through you my goddess with your permission?”*I felt him trying touch me got shocked johnny replied*”Wow you and him are so close I can see the kids.”*I respond to raiden*”Yes you do lord raiden take over now”*he smiles laughing past raiden fujin felt it with young scorpion had to stop this before johnny gets a goddesses wrath I silence him making him silent red lighting where I was floating lifting him up to me*”Johnny cage you messed with the wrong goddess we work together as a team but you a mortal who does not take anything seriously”*johnny tried to escape it was formateable for someone to save him just in time laughs*”You think I would have mercy johnny cage think again my goddess clearly with me had enough!”*johnny screaming as lighting attacks him all at a fire spirit in me once I felt the spirit of future scorpion come in me raiden was honored to share with future scorpion my fighter spirit talked with scorpion raiden after my fighter spirit approved the ninja because of his heroic actions for the realm they all felt it as he merged with me spiritually still holding johnny begging for mercy past raiden with fujin scorpion where too late I'm transforming to the goddess of fire with tech lighting all in 1 jax come out as usual come running to defend his friend he saw me change fire my physically flames lighting johnny falling down as soon as the flames taken me my physical skeleton showing through my body similar to his into in mk breathing in jax got his friend to medical sonya was in her office having coffee the fire come to my arms a rope spear come out of my arm scorpion said*”It is a honor spirit to serve you like I did lord raiden”*bows in unity “You are with a good heart to defend others”, the power was form scorpion his step son recognized the fire looking at the transformation now physically the swords he give in honor of family where on my hip was then I teleported in a twister of fire with lighting raiden had given me back control in the ethereal form all of raiden’s power tech fire increased by 100 x folded standed up the power of red lighting was connected all of it everyone in the room was giving the face of “Oh my god” the stepson of scorpion come up felt his grandmaster in me*”Grandmaster how it though you.”*the flames were little his stepson cried hugging me the gods with me felt his grief I hugged him scorpion was confronted by raiden and my spirit*”He did but he is now a part of me protecting the realm he lives through me”*looking at me as he lets it out past raiden fujin walking over as I sit down with his step son keshi felt him in me replied*”You are one of the most sweetest person I did not know a goddess was so beautiful but a fighter”*I blushed red raiden knew keshi meant good scorpion asked*”May I take over with your permission?”*I said*”Yes you may scorpion”*he taken over speaking through me*”Son I am proud of you always”*he felt him there tears of happiness form his step son*”Thank you grandmaster”*bows I bow as well raiden happy smiling his eyes brown*”Will you still come to the wedding grandmaster?”*scorpion informed me on the wedding time checking my schedule I am free that day*”Of course son I would not mess it for anything”*keshi replied*”You will need go for a dress fitting with the others”*scorpion understood with me*”Of course keshi but for my goddess it be a dress or pantsuit that a good suggestion?”*scorpion came back in his ethereal form the ninja speaking through me remembering what he said keshi respond*”It does not matter well see what suits you”*I nodded raiden commented*”I think a pantsuit look nice of course we will see what comes first what everyone is wearing”*I nodded listening faltered scorpion agrees with him*When we get our formal wear*the bride got her wedding dress with us, now it’s our turn the place was similar to say yes to the dress raiden looked at all them with the ninja the color theme was red and orange cassie saw a red sparkly one that was so me it was my size picked it was a long sleeved one looked lt was something I wear formally as she held it had the beads a v-neck the back had a theme of a devils prouda I looked at cassie our eyes on the pantsuit raiden scorpion loved it*”This so you goddess” *I looked at cassie agreeing*”I think it’s beautiful cassie I am speechless”*in the meantime past raiden fujin keshi was sitting down on a coach seeing what we want to wear for the wedding the dress person got all of us to come out then me last to surprise everyone with my choice they loved all of the dresses sub zero sitting with jax sonya was in her dress then lastly I came out walking up on the stand with the mirror showing it off everyone was shocked as cassie said*”It’s wow”*the dress person said*”Look in the mirror It’s fabulous dearing”*I turned around raiden scorpion where blushing making me blush*”Thank you it’s so amazing”*past raiden fujin all of them never seen anything like this they liked all of it looked as when the elder gods make a outfit for me*”I am speechless goddess I never seen a outfit like this”*past raiden commented looking at me seeing my beauty in action more than ever all of them*

#mortalkombat #react #rp

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thekuroiookami · 7 years

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Epic first kiss scenarios for the Gom? Feel free to make it as simple or extraordinary as you want (awkward, angry, forced, long-time-coming type of kiss, etc, whichever suits you) ;D

Dear me, it took me ages to write this one because I ran out of ideas at one point. I’m sorry the last two are a bit lacklustre, but I hope you like it, anon. Tell me which ones worked and which ones didn’t - personally I’m quite proud of the way Kuroko’s and Akashi’s turned out.

Akashi

Asusual, when the teacher let them loose into the playground, you ran over toAkashi like a homing pigeon, unswerving in your determination. He watched withunblinking eyes as you plopped on the ground next to him, your legs foldingunder you. You looked at the sandcastle in front of him. “That looks cool,Akashi-kun. Can I help?”

Henodded, not really invested in either outcome. You picked up a trowel and beganto carefully scrape a moat around the towering structure. The both of you weresilent for a while as you worked, Akashi gazing distantly at the sand. You madea little bridge of rocks over the moat before speaking. “Why are you sad,Akashi-kun? You usually tell me off by now.”

Hisfists clenched as the observation hit its mark. It wasn’t fair, nothing wasfair, and you didn’t get to just ask him what was wrong. “I should be the oneasking questions. All of the others are afraid of me. Why do you keep comingback?”

Youblinked at him, surprised. “Because I want to be friends, of course.” Youfrowned at the idea that your classmates were avoiding him. They hadn’t donethat before. It wasn’t until he started coming to school with that dark facethat everyone thought something was wrong.

Hedidn’t say anything, expression shuttered as he etched the outline of a windowinto a sandy wall. You waited, feet tapping together while he came to aconclusion. You were good at waiting. You had to wait a lot for him, after all.His voice was so quiet when he spoke that you became worried he was sick.

“Mymother isn’t here anymore. She left.” His eyes had no tears left to fall, buthis voice broke all the same.

Youtilted your head in puzzlement. “Where did she go? Is it far?”

Hebent his head to hide his face, crimson locks shading his eyes. “I don’t know.But she’s not coming back.”

Youreyes widened to impossibly large orbs. “Why not? Akashi-kun’s mother wouldnever leave, she loves you, doesn’t she?”

Heasked himself the same question every day. “They said she’s asleep, a very deepsleep. But I know that’s a lie,” he said fiercely. “People always wake up inthe morning. She hasn’t woken up yet.” He didn’t know why he was telling youthis, but you seemed to understand. You scooted closer and took his hand inboth of your chubby palms.

“Ifshe’s just sleeping, then maybe we can do something. Mama read a story to meabout a princess who fell asleep for a hundred years and then a prince woke herup. Akashi-kun’s mother is like a princess, isn’t she?”

Henodded reluctantly. “I suppose so.”

Yougripped his hand harder, eyes bright with excitement. “And you’re like aprince! So all you have to do is kiss her and she’ll wake up!”

Akashigave you a look heavy with scepticism, as cynical as a ten-year-old could be.“I don’t think it’s that simple.”

Youpouted. “We won’t know unless we try.” You thought about it for a moment. “Whydon’t I practise with you?”

Hisface shifted into lines of surprise. You hadn’t realized his eyes were sopretty until they widened. “Practise?”

“Yeah!C’mon, we need to hold hands first.” You solemnly curled your fingers aroundhis. He didn’t resist because it was futile where you were concerned. Youshuffled so you were facing each other. “Now our faces need to be closer.” Youleaned forward until your nose was brushing his.

Hefrowned. “And then?” You suddenly realized you weren’t entirely sure how aprince kissed a princess. The pictures in the books always showed them justbefore whatever happened actually happened. Akashi sighed again when youadmitted as much.

“Ah!I know their lips have to touch!” You looked at him and thought about it. “So,like this?”

Akashiwent still as your lips pressed against his mouth, soft and warm. It wasn’t thesame, not exactly, but it felt like his mother’s hand in his hair. Safe,beloved. A tear trickled down his cheek when you pulled back.

“Akashi-kun?!I’m sorry! Maybe that wasn’t it after all!” You patted his cheek, trying tocomfort him the only way you knew how.

Hetouched his lips and blinked. What had happened was important somehow, but hedidn’t know why. Akashi looked up at you. “I don’t think that will work, butthank you.”

Younodded gravely at him. “It will be okay. I know it will. Princes always get ahappy ending.”

Hestood up and brushed off his shorts. Happiness bubbled up in your stomach andspilled over in a brilliant smile when he held a hand out. “If I have a friendlike you, maybe.”

Aomine

Everyoneassumed Aomine was some kind of sex god because of his swagger and well-knowninclination towards gravure magazines. The reality was quite different.Confidence did not equate to experience, as he found out one day.

Hestrolled into the konbini where you worked part-time and dropped his bag on thecounter. “Oye, bill this for me.”

Youturned to him with a long-suffering expression and exhaled slowly. He notedthat the heat of summer had left you with a shirt unbuttoned till yourcollarbones. Humidity glistened on your throat in a fine sheen, and turned yourhair into damp curls at your neck. You tapped a pen on the cash register to gethis attention.

“Don’tyou have somewhere else to be? Like high school?” He grinned as you fell backinto the easy back-and-forth of your usual conversation. As always, you beganby asking him why he was skipping.

Henodded at the bottle of iced tea on the counter. You picked it up with a scowland the machine beeped as you scanned the barcode. “Don’t you have somewhere tobe? Like university?” Your fingers were cool from the condensation on thebottle when they brushed his. A spark of awareness raced down his spine.

“It’smy day off. Don’t tell anyone,” you whispered as you leaned closer, “but that’sone of the perks of being an art student. You can plead to a fit of inspirationand stay at home.” His heart stuttered at the secretive curve of your smile.

“Huh.Not really in a position to be telling me what to do, are you?” He followed youas you moved to restock an aisle of snacks, eyes tracing the line of your backthrough the thin fabric clinging to you.

Youshrugged and continued stacking boxes on the shelves. “Hey, it’s your life. Ican afford to slack a little because I got my work done ahead of time. I alsoneed the extra money. What’s your excuse?”

Itcame out of nowhere, dropped like a ticking grenade in the space between youboth. “You are.”

Youfroze and turned to look at him, eyes wide. Aomine’s cheeks darkened as herealised the enormous implications of what he’d said. He backpedalled with astutter. “Crap, I mean-“

“Aomine-kun.Calm down. I’m not going to eat you or anything.” You patted his shouldergently and moved past him to the next aisle. “I know I’m fabulous, but youcan’t skip school to bask in my presence.”

Asurge of relief and disappointment washed over him. He leaned against the shelfand eyed you sceptically. “I was going to say you sell the best ramen, but ifit boosts your ego, whatever.”

Youlaughed and his chest tightened with longing. “So are you going to drink thator not? It’s getting warm.”

Aomineunscrewed the lid and took a long swig of the lemony sweetness. “Here,” he heldout the bottle, surprising you again. “You look like you need it as much as Ido.”

Youlooked at him a for a long moment. “Are you sure?” Your gaze turnedcontemplative when he nodded. “Alright then, thanks.”

Aomine’sbreath caught as you lifted the drink to your mouth. An unfamiliar heat spreadout over his limbs as your lips closed around the mouth of the bottle, fittingover where his had been. He swallowed hard when you finished and dragged yourtongue over your lip. “A bit too sweet,” you murmured. “I don’t know how youdrink this.”

Hescrambled for a response, but his brain had come to a full stop and there wasno getting it to move. You smirked at his silence. “Oh dear, is thehigh-schooler hung up over the indirect kiss? How cute.”

“Don’tcall me cute!” Aomine folded his arms as he growled. “I didn’t say anythingabout a kiss.”

Youmoved closer, a sly smile hovering at the edge of your mouth. “But you werethinking it, weren’t you? I can tell.”

Hispulse pounded madly and the orderly colours of the shop seemed to melt away asyou stopped in front of him, close enough for him to see the colour of youreyes. His attention was completely in your thrall, gaze pinned to your mouth. Timestopped with a screech when your lips fitted to his in a slow, languid kiss.Aomine stood unmoving as your mouth moved over his, softer than anything he’dimagined. He didn’t know what to do. Where did his hands go? And wasn’t thereusually tongue involved?

Younoticed his hesitation. “Relax. Just let your instincts guide you.”

Aominelooked at you with a mixture of confusion, trepidation and heated thrill beforedipping his head again. This time he just let himself sink into the sensationsand his hands glided over your back, pulling you closer. Sparks of golden fireburst into life over his skin as your lips parted and your tongue swept intohis mouth. You drank in a surprised moan when he tasted the lingering sugarover your lips, his senses on fire from the slick slide of tangled tongues. Hewas panting when you broke apart again.

“Andthat is how you kiss someone, young man.” You smiled at his bewilderedexpression. “Consider it an educational experience.”

Aomine’sfingers wrapped around your wrist as you moved away. “Then,” he said huskily,“I need another demonstration. Your teaching isn’t very good.”

“Certainly.Would you like to start now?”

Kise

Ifthere was one person you avoided with a vengeance, it would be Kise Ryouta, aceof the basketball team and model extraordinaire. You didn’t have anythingagainst him personally, but his presence was a disruptive force in your life,throwing everything into chaos by sheer virtue of the fact that he existed. Youstifled a scream when he walked into the library for the third time that week, lookingaround curiously.

“Kise-kun.”You gritted your teeth as he sauntered over. “How can I help you?”

“I’mlooking for a place to hide,” he announced cheerfully. “There’s a whole crowdof girls after me trying to give me chocolates.”

Andof course he’d picked the quiet haven of the library to hide in. Why were youso unlucky? “And this is a problem because?”

Heshook his head sadly. “I can’t take any of them. If I take one, I’ll have totake them all, and there are too many. I don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings.”

Youwanted to screech at him that he was seriously injuring your feelings in theprocess, but you had learned from experience that it was pointless. “I’m notabout to aid and abet your crimes. Go somewhere else.”

“There’snowhere else to go, I checked.” His eyes glinted with something dangerous.“Besides, if you don’t want them all attacking me here and making a fuss, youshould help me hide.” He smiled brightly as the first echoes of many footstepscame from the hallway. “See?”

“Fine,”you snarled, frustrated that he had a point. Your eyes widened as the doorbegan to creak open. You looked around frantically and yanked Kise into a storecupboard, trapping the both of you in semi-darkness. You heard the murmur ofvoices as the fanclub searched for Kise, one girl getting perilously close toyour hiding spot.

“Iwonder where Kise-kun went? I could have sworn I saw him here.”

Theymoved away, speculating on his sudden disappearance. You exhaled in relief, butstopped mid-breath when you realized Kise’s broad chest was pressed againstyours. You slowly looked at his face to see him watching you with predatoryintent, eyes glowing amber in the dim light. You tried to shift away, but hishand pulled the door shut.

Youpressed back against a stack of books, cursing the limited space. “Wh-what areyou doing? They’re gone now.”

“___-cchi.”You stilled as he purred your name, the word rolling over your skin in afeathery brush. “Haven’t you wondered why I’ve been coming to the library somuch even though I don’t like to read?”

Youhad noticed, but this didn’t feel like the time to have that discussion. “Maybeyou just- just want some peace and quiet.” You tried to sidle past him, but hisarm was blocking the way.

Hepursed his lips in frustration and dipped his head closer. You blinked into hishopeful face, your heart beating a staccato rhythm at his nearness. “That’s notit, ___-cchi. I come here to see someone.”

Yourpalm flattened against his chest as you tried to keep him at bay. “S-someone?”His scent was all around you, clouding your mind and pulling you in. It wasfrightening and exciting at the same time.

Hebraced both hands on either side of you, caging you in. Pools of liquid goldfilled your vision as he came impossibly close. You forgot everything – how tobreathe, your own name, where you were. “It’s because of you,” he whispered.“Because I want to be with you.”

Somewherein the depths of your mind, the part which had watched him with regret everytime he traipsed into the library, a longing stirred. The feelings you hadlabelled impossible and filed away with no small amount of sorrow came tumblingback. Your chest suddenly felt as if someone had poured a bucket of happinessinto it. “I like you, Kise-kun.” It felt right to say it.

Kisestilled and his eyes flashed. You shut your eyes tightly, waiting for theinevitable kiss with both anticipation and terror. When nothing happened for agood minute, you opened one eye to find him staring at you with huge eyes and aflushed face.

“Y-youreally like me? Really?” Kise seemed shocked. You swallowed and nodded. Hecovered his mouth, cheeks pink. “I thought you hated me. I was prepared to waitforever until I could make you like me.”

Yourface felt hot with embarrassment. “I-I don’t hate you! I just- I don’t knowwhat to do when you’re so close.”

Helaughed joyously and picked you up in a bone-crushing hug. Your breath flew outof your lungs in a startled squeak. He buried his face in your hair with asmile. “I’m so happy. Thanks, ___-cchi.”

Youshyly took his hand when he set you down again. “I’m happy too. Can we, erm,leave now?”

Youmoved to open the door, expecting him to follow, but he tugged you back. “Ne,___-cchi,” he said, that wanting look back in his eyes, “I really want to kissyou. Can I?”

Youstared at him, confused. “But you didn’t want to just now?”

“Eh?Was I supposed to?” He stared back, equally lost. “Wait, is that why you closedyour eyes?”

Theembarrassment was back full force. You turned your face away, unable to bearthis awkwardness. “S-shouldn’t you know all these things? You’re supposed to bea playboy.”

Yougasped when he suddenly hooked an arm around your waist and pulled you intohim. “Well, it’s not like I’ve done this before, so…”

Yourhands automatically slid up his shoulders, but your expression was incredulous.“You haven’t? But I thought-“ Your fingers tightened on his shirt. “I-I haven’tdone this either.”

Hegrinned brilliantly. “Then it’s fine, isn’t it? We can just figure it outtogether.”

“ButKise-kun, I- mmph.” Your voice was muffled as Kise latched his lips over yours.At first the angle made it difficult until Kise tipped his head and you did thesame. He kissed with a cautious patience, learning the shape of your mouth withslow passes of his lips. You flinched when he accidentally nipped a bit toohard at your lip.

“Ah,sorry ___-cchi! I got carried away.” His thumb rubbed over the spot, soothing.“Are you okay?”

Youhad to take a moment to breathe to answer him. “I-it’s fine. Just…kiss meagain.”

Kisesmiled, eyes honey-dark. “Whatever you want, ___-cchi.”

Kuroko

Kurokowould always remember his first kiss vividly. He suspected it would always bethat way, because it happened so much later than it would have for most people,in his early twenties.

Andeven that hadn’t been the case, it would still be carved into his memoryforever, a burning line in the otherwise quiet landscape of his mind.

Whenhe first ran into you, it was because you both tried to enter a café at thesame time. Being invisible as always, you had to knock elbows with him beforeyou realised he was there. You turned around, horrified, as a soft sound ofpain left him.

“Ohmy goodness, are you alright?” You started patting him down to check forinjury. “I didn’t watch where I was going, how stupid of me.”

Hestood there in a state of mild amusement as you petted him, even going so faras to ruffle his hair. “Don’t worry about it, I’m used it to it.”

Yougave him an even more horrified look. “What does that mean? No one should beused to being ignored.”

Heblinked, strangely warmed by your words. “I have a naturally low presence. It’snot unusual for people to overlook me.”

Youfrowned as you pushed open the door to the café and he followed you inside.“That’s no excuse for not noticing you. You’re a whole person who exists. It’sjust rude.”

Kurokostopped short as his heart faltered. He hadn’t thought it existed it untilthen, but there it was. Love at first sight. He rubbed his chest, a curiouslyfluttery sensation beating against his ribs. You smiled, oblivious to the speedof his pulse, which only kicked up further. He was about to say something,anything, when he noticed the table you sat down at.

Kuroko’sstomach lurched sickeningly, heart crumpling like tin foil as he approached thesame table. Ogiwara looked up with a bright smile. “Hey, I was waiting for you!This is the special person I wanted you to meet.” You gave Kuroko a delightedsmile of shared conspiracy that made something in him break irrevocably.Ogiwara pulled you close. “____ and I are getting married.”

Throughoutthat whole afternoon at the café, Kuroko was a bundle of quiet misery, smilingeven less than usual. He resolved to forget you. He’d known you for all of fiveminutes. It shouldn’t be that hard. There was no way he would get in the way ofOgiwara’s happiness, after all. Then the blow struck.

“Soyou’ll be my best man, yeah? Don’t say no.” Ogiwara gave him that sameeasy-going grin he’d been smiling for years.

Kurokohesitated. “I…” He made the mistake of looking at you. Your eyes shone withsoft hope as you grabbed his hand. His breath hitched at the contact.

“Pleasedo, Kuroko-san. Hiro and I would love to have you around.” It was so foolish, atemperamental decision that Kagami or Aomine might make. It was going to hurtforever and he would regret it. But he said yes.

Anyhope of Kuroko ever falling out of that instant love with you was cruellykilled off. He had to spend at least a day each month talking to you, each timediscovering something new and infinitely fascinating. You were impossiblysweet, lively and somehow you always knew when he was there. Somewhere alongthe way you had become part of the fabric that made up his being; if someonecould see into his soul, your name would probably be stitched into it. As thewedding approached, Kuroko made more wishes on the stars than he cared tocount, knowing very well that the stars were too far away to do anything.

Onthe day of the wedding, Kuroko thought he might actually fold up and disappearunder the weight of the pain. He forced a smile onto his face and became aghost in truth, a shell that barely operated on the outside. He didn’t think itcould get any worse, but it did.

“Whatdo you think? Does it look alright?” Somehow he found himself alone with you inyour bridal boudoir as you twirled in a dress that wasn’t meant for him. Hetraced the slope of your bare shoulders and the line of your neck with hiseyes, expression soft. You pursed your lips, worried. “Is something wrong?”

Heshook his head and gave you a small smile, heart stretched to the breakingpoint as he told you the truth. “You look beautiful.”

Yousmiled, sparkling with an unfair warmth. “Would you mind helping me with theveil?”

Kurokocomplied, fingers moving delicately as he adjusted the lace over your hair. Thegauzy fabric fell over your face, taunting him with the impossibility. Kurokoknelt in front of you when he was finished. “It’s in place, ___-san.”

Youtouched his elbow before he could stand up. “Kuroko-san, I just wanted tosay…Thank you. You’ve been a wonderful friend to both me and Hiro. I couldn’tpossibly say how much.”

Somethingin him snapped at the words. For one instant Kuroko wanted. He wanted sodesperately that the yearning threatened to crush his bones. And he thoughtthat for once, he ought to be a little selfish. “Forgive me, ___-san.”

Youpaused in confusion as his fingers laced with yours. Kuroko felt heat seepthrough the satin of your gloves, his nerves tingling with awareness. Youstilled in shock when he pressed his lips to yours, the thin barrier of theveil between you. Kuroko briefly wondered what it would be like to kiss youwithout the lace, but that question would have to remain unanswered. It was agentle kiss, a soft communication of endless longing and unrequited feelings.Teardrops darkened the fabric, but he didn’t know whether they were yours orhis.

Aftera single, perfect moment, he drew back. Your eyes were wide and haunted beneaththe veil, and the shards embedded in Kuroko’s soul dug in a bit further. Hedidn’t mean to cause you distress, but what was one more regret among thehundreds? He stood up and drew in a breath.

“TellOgiwara-kun I’m sorry I couldn’t make it. And…I hope you have a wedding asbeautiful as you are. I wish you both many years of happiness together.” Ithurt all the more because he meant it.

Kurokowalked out of there without looking back. No one noticed, not until theceremony, and by then it was too late. But then, Kuroko would have argued, itwas too late a long, long time ago.

Midorima

Thedoor clicked as it fell shut behind you. The powdery scent of fresh laundrygrew stronger as you reached the bedroom. It was a Friday evening, so of coursehe was ironing clothes. Nothing short of a natural disaster was going to pryhim away from it. You hung up your coat on a hook and wrapped your arms aroundhis waist. “Hello, Shin-kun. I see you’re hard at work.”

Midorimastiffened slightly and then relaxed into your embrace, steadily straighteningout a crumpled pair of trousers. You had to hide a smile behind his back. Youhadn’t been dating that long, but by any standard he should have been used toyour affection by now. Yet he still froze up occasionally, as if he couldn’tbelieve this was happening and didn’t know what the next step in the procedurewas.

“You’relate, nanodayo,” he observed. “Did classes run over again?”

Youwandered around the ironing table and started folding a shirt. “No, it wasjust…an old friend.”

Hewatched you over the edge of his glasses, noting the strained expression onyour face. “A friend?”

Youregarded a button on his cuff intently and then sighed in resignation. “Well,more like…an ex.”

Itwas totally irrational, he knew. You were here with him, not this unseenperson, and nothing suggested you were happy about this encounter. You weren’tlikely to develop a sudden interest in them. He knew all that, but it didn’tmake him any less uneasy. “Did something happen?”

Youwaved away his concern. “Nothing, we just talked and went our separate ways. Ijust didn’t expect to run into them, you know?” You shook your head to clearyour thoughts. “Anyway, what would you like to do this evening? Read, or watchsomething together?”

Midorimadidn’t hear you at first. He was too busy calculating various possibilities. Heknew he wasn’t as demonstrative of his affections as most lovers were. Hetried, but it didn’t come naturally to him. You never seemed to mind, butsurely there was a limit somewhere? What if you left him when you got tired ofhis reticence? He hadn’t even kissed you yet…

Hewas still thinking about it as he stretched out the collar of another shirt.Midorima slid a glance at you as you rested your head on his shoulder, gazelingering on the soft curve of your mouth. He hadn’t ever spared it a thoughtbefore, but now that he had, kissing you was all he could think about.

Theproblem was that he had no idea how to ask for such a thing. How did peoplecommunicate a desire to kiss? Did he politely request you to join in? Thatseemed embarrassing. Did he just do what he wanted and hope that you wouldn’tpush him away? That didn’t sound right either. Was there a way for you toinitiate it instead? But you didn’t know he wanted it, so you wouldn’t try. Hewas very tempted to phone Takao and present him with this quandary.

Obliviousto this internal turmoil, you reached out across him. “Can I just get- Ouch!”There was a dull thunk from Midorima’s forehead colliding painfully with yours.You scrunched your nose as you tried to rub away the pain. “Shin-kun, what wasthat for? I wasn’t going to steal your clothes, I swear.”

Heturned into a wooden post, ears red. “I-I was not trying to hurt you, nanodayo!It was an error of judgement…”

Youwere confused, but let it go with a shrug. Silence permeated the room as youcontinued folding while he ironed, a neat stack of clothes steadily growing onthe bed. Midorima glanced at you again and wondered if there was a differentway to go about initiating a kiss, one that didn’t involve him hurting himself.He finally sighed and gave up on prevarication. “I-I have a request, nanodayo…”

Youlooked at him curiously, pausing in the act of hanging up a jacket. “Hmm?”

“Iwould like to…” He looked away and exhaled in frustration. “T-to kiss.”

Comingfrom him, it was such a strange and out-of-context statement that you stupidlyasked, “Kiss what?”

Hisgrip on the iron tightened and he shot you a glare. “Must I spell outeverything? You, of course!”

Youjust stared at him, dazed. He grew more and more uncomfortable under yourscrutiny. Midorima snapped out the vest he was ironing, face red. “I shouldn’thave asked, it’s an odd request-“ He turned to leave before this could get anymore humiliating.

“Ah!Wait!” He toppled backward as you tugged on his arm to keep him from leaving.The both of you fell over onto the bed with surprised expressions. Midorimapushed his glasses up with a sigh, propping himself up on one arm over you.

“Areyou alright-“ His eyes flew open as your lips fitted to his. By the time he hadregistered the soft sensation and created a new folder for it in his brain, youhad already pulled back. Your eyes shone with hope.

“Shin-kun,I thought you’d never ask.”

Hestuttered, unable to process this development or the utter embarrassment. Midorimastilled when your lips found his again, the foreignness of the feeling leavinghim at sea. It was so unlike holding hands or even hugging, so strangelyintimate. He felt as if you had extracted a secret part of his soul in theprocess. He relaxed into the kiss by slow degrees, fingers delicately brushingyour cheek.

Youpulled away for oxygen and regarded him anxiously. “Was that okay? Did I overdoit?”

Heglanced away, but nodded. “It was not unpleasant, nanodayo.”

“Good,because I have some bad news. Your shirt is burning, Shin-kun.”

Andthen Midorima belatedly remembered he’d left the hot iron on a perfectly goodshirt.

Murasakibara

If it had been anyone else, they would have been at leastmildly surprised when you fell out of the tree and onto them, but Murasakibarajust opened one eye, propped you up with one giant hand, and went back todozing. You shook your head to loosen the leaves in your hair. “Sorry,Mura-kun. I ruined your nap again.”

He didn’t bother looking at you. “Ne, ___-chin, do you haveany candy left?”

You patted your pockets and held up a sweet triumphantly. “Hereyou go.”

Murasakibara popped it into his mouth and chewedthoughtfully. “So why were you in the tree again?”

You brushed off debris from your shoulders before answering.“I just wanted to see the fireworks and the roof was closed off. Why are youdressed in a yukata, Mura-kun?”

He looked down at the dark haori with a furrowed brow. “Sa-chinand the drama club wanted me to. Mido-chin has one too. A pretty one,” headded.

You stretched out next to him and gazed at the darkeningsky. “Were you helping out with the play?” He hadn’t said anything aboutparticipating in the school festival.

He shifted uncomfortably and sighed. “It was for the BestCouple contest. Ne, let me use your lap as a pillow, ___-chin.”

Used to these random declarations, you shuffled so he couldrest his head on your lap. You leaned back against the tree, thinking. “Speakingof best couples, you know everyone thinks we’re dating?”

A low hum was his only answer. You looked him over,exasperated by his nonchalance. He grumbled when you poked his shoulder. “Don’tcare either way, ___-chin. ‘Sides, who is this everyone anyway?”

You ticked a list off your fingers as you spoke. “Kise-kun,Momoi-san, several of my friends, Haizaki-senpai…”

His breath ruffled his fringe as he huffed. “So what do youwant me to do? Tell them off?”

You rolled your eyes. “Of course not. I was just sayingpeople think that because we seem friendly with each other. I mean, you’re inmy lap right now.”

Murasakibara scowled like he’d been told dinner had beencancelled. “I don’t want to move from here.”

He was so thick-headed sometimes, you wanted to shake him. “I’mnot saying you have to leave. Sheesh, Mura-kun, you really…Anyway, do you wantto try it? Dating, I mean.”

He looked at you sleepily. “Hmm, I dunno…Do I have to doanything?”

“Well, it isn’t that different from what we’re doing now.Just spending time together. Talking. Maybe holding hands.” Neither of you was particularlyenthused by the idea.

He caught your hand and twined his fingers with yours. “Likethis?”

You took a moment to wonder at the size and warmth of hishand. “Yeah…something like that.”

Murasakibara also looked at your joined hands for a moment. “Don’tyou do other stuff as well? Like hug and kiss?”

You blinked, surprised he had brought it up. “I guess? Butwe’re not dating at the moment, so it doesn’t matter.”

He looked at your face, then back at your hand and seemed tocome to a decision. “Maybe ___-chin should kiss me and we can see what happens.”

You froze and gave him an incredulous look. “But- What for?”

Murasakibara shrugged, the motion lifting his broadshoulders. “You’re the one who wanted to try. If it’s not good we don’t have totry dating, right?”

You were mostly confused, but there seemed to be a grain oflogic in there somewhere. You had to admit you were a little curious. “Okay…areyou sure though?”

He exhaled in frustration. “Just come here, ___-chin.” Hegripped your tie and pulled until your face was level with his. You didn’t tryto move away, but kept watching him with wide eyes.

Murasakibara’s eyes flickered to your lips, the expressionon his face strangely hungry. His mouth slanted over yours, hand still wrappedaround your tie to keep you in place. His lips were a little chapped, andsomewhat sticky from the sugar. On instinct, your tongue flicked out to tasteit. He breathed in sharply, pulling you closer as his lips parted to claim you.He tasted you like he savoured his desserts: slowly, carefully. You weredrowning a little when he let you go.

“Mmm, not bad for a first kiss.” His lazy stare was filledwith something hot and possessive. “What do you think, ___-chin?”

You were still wondering why your world looked so differentnow. “I- I don’t know.”

He glanced at your face and burrowed into your blazer with ahum. “Then you’ll just have to do it again, until you figure it out.”

For the first time, you were tempted to card your fingersthrough his hair. The lilac strands were soft when they slipped through yourtouch. “Yeah, maybe I do.”

You could have sworn that you glimpsed the edge of a smileon Murasakibara’s face before he fell asleep.

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