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procrastinatingsapphictrash · 4 years

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Can’t get over her

Word count: 5010

Genre: A little angst with a little fluff

Pairing: Natasha x fem!reader

Warnings: Little bit of swearing (let me know if I need to add more)

Summary: Reader has always had a bit of a crush on Natasha but it’s unrequited. She lets Tony and Wanda take her to a club and Nat starts acting differently.

A/N: This is not a request, I just felt like writing this story. I’m super nervous about this because I’m not sure if it’s very good but I thought I would post it in case anyone is interested. This is my first x reader fic and first Natasha/Marvel fic so I wasn’t sure how to write it. That being said I hope you enjoy, and if you do, I’m always open to take requests! Btw this is completely unimportant but even though this fic is a medium length, it’s the longest story I’ve actually completed so I feel proud of myself for that!

“Y/n!” A voice rang out loudly disrupting your sleep.

“Ughhhh,” you groaned, “what do you want?” Instead of an answer the door to your room gets thrown open loudly, allowing all the light to come in. You bury yourself under the blankets, partly to stop your eyes from seeing the light and partly to hide the fact that you were wearing Avengers themed pyjamas.

“Rise and shine sweetheart!” You hear Tony’s voice mock. Reluctantly you poke your head out of the blankets just enough so you can see and squint at your best friend/mentor just in time to see him rush off, probably to wake up another unfortunate avenger. When you first joined you never expected to like Tony at all, much less consider him your best friend or look up to him. You had heard rumors of him being inappropriate with women and while his jokes most certainly were and you did occasionally catch him staring at your boobs he never did anything creepy to make you uncomfortable and inside he was a good man, way more so than you expected.

All that in mind you decide to get out of bed to see why Tony woke you up because he (probably) wouldn’t wake you up for no reason. Taking a minute to change out of the avenger pyjamas and into some clothes as well as brush your hair you wander downstairs. On the way down you bump into Clint who unlike you has made absolutely no effort to look presentable and looks like he just rolled out of bed. You say a quick hello but he just grunts in return, not even looking at you. Inwardly laughing about how much Clint hates to be awake in the morning you continue downstairs to meet up with the rest of the avengers who are varying degrees of awake. Most seemed to be like you; awake and fairly alert but not happy about it. Clint was probably the most asleep and Tony the most awake considering he was practically bouncing off the walls. Looking around you see everyone except for Thor and Natasha. Thor wasn’t there very often because he wasn’t from earth and Natasha usually avoided group activities at all costs to your displeasure since you had a secret (not very secret) crush on the assassin.

“So why did you wake us up, at an ungodly hour may I add, and bring us down here?” You ask Tony, curious.

“That information is above your clearance level.” He replies somewhat sarcastically.

“Does anybody else know what is going on?” you ask. “Or did Tony wake me up for no reason, in which case I’m going back to bed.” They all shift guiltily on their feet except for Clint who seems to be still too tired to pay attention leading you to believe they are all up to something you wouldn’t like. Nobody answers your question so you glare around the room, your eyes landing on Steve. He almost squirms under your gaze and eventually seems to give in.

“I’m sorry Y/N, this wasn’t my idea and thinking back on it we probably shouldn’t-”

“We are giving you a makeover and finding you a date.” Tony cuts Steve off.

“Seriously??!??!??” You half shout. “What makes you think I want to go on some random date you guys set up? If I want to go on a date I can find one myself.”

“Y/N…” Wanda says softly, reminding you to stay calm.

“Don’t Y/n me,” you say, still angrily yet quieter, “I can find my own dates, thank you very much.” Tony gives a small snort of laughter in response to this.

“Sure you can kid. I mean it’s not like you haven’t been on a date in over two years. Or that you’re harboring a crush for our resident scary assassin that prevents you from dating others.” You glare at him but stay silent because all of what he said is true. In your head you excuse the not dating off as being busy because you are a hero yet almost everybody on the team is dating someone and it all seems to be working out fine.

“Look Y/n,” Tony says softly which is a rarity for him, “I know you wish something could happen between you and Romanoff but it hasn’t happened yet and likely never will. You need to get over her and back out there. Besides we weren’t planning on choosing your date for you, we were just planning to go clubbing later with you.”

“Ok,” you agree begrudgingly, “I’ll do it, I just don’t see the need to wake me up at 7 in the morning if we aren’t going out until tonight. Also does everybody need to be here right now?”

“I second that,” Clint says in a voice still rough from sleep, “just because I helped planning a little bit does not mean I had to wake up early to have this conversation. I’m going back to bed.”

Wanda rolls her eyes at him before turning to you, “No not everyone has to be here right now, Tony just got a little over excited. As for you, as we said we are giving you a makeover which means we have to go to the hair appointment I set up plus I was thinking we could go shopping since we almost never have time to. Besides Natasha gets back from her solo mission sometime later today, so we wanted to talk with you when she wasn’t around.”

“Ok,” you respond with a little bit of excitement, “when do we leave?”

“Right now! We can have brunch while we’re out!”

“Yes and then we can go get our nails done and gossip!” Tony says in a fake voice. Both you and Wanda turn to look at him exasperated. “Ok fine, maybe not but I am coming and we are gossiping. Also I need to find a good birthday present for Pepper’s birthday next week.”

“Well that’s good you’re coming because unless you want the same reaction as last year, you’re going to need a lot of help.” Wanda replies. You laugh a little as the three of you leave the tower, Wanda and Tony continuing their mock argument about Tony’s gift giving skills.

Five hours later and you severely regretted going along with their plan. You were already exhausted and still had so much to do before going clubbing. You had already bought an outfit plus a few others which wouldn’t be so bad except Wanda and Tony made you try on what you believed to be the whole store before they seemed satisfied with your look. You had also gotten your nails done and were currently finishing up a lovely brunch which consisted of waffles, maple syrup and some fruits. That would have been enjoyable if not for the fact that Tony and Wanda alternated between nagging you about not chipping a nail and teasing you about your pathetic love life. It was a well known fact in the tower that while they didn’t hate each other, Tony and Wanda didn’t usually get along well but that was probably for the best since together they were ruthless. They seemed to have decided that the time for brunch was over so sighing you followed them out of the restaurant after Tony paid the bill. That’s the one positive at least, all of it was free for you thanks to Tony.

Another five hours later and you could honestly say you were looking forward to the night more than you thought you would. You were currently looking in the mirror in your room and although usually you tended to be indifferent towards your body, sometimes even insecure, you had to admit that you looked pretty hot. The dress was in the perfect colour to bring out your eyes according to Wanda and although it was the perfect balance between classy and slutty, revealing a bit of skin and showing off your assets while still leaving it to the imagination. You also were carrying a black purse which matched your nails and shoes. Your makeup was perfectly done, naturally showing you beauty but adding a little extra glimmer. The thing you were most proud of however and the most noticeable change you had made was your hair. Before you had hair that when completely straight could reach your waist but now it was barely long enough to tuck behind your ears. When you first got to the hair salon you were planning on just trimming it and straightening in it but when you got in the chair something came over you and you just decided to chop it all off.

BANG! The door to your room barges open and Wanda comes flying in.

“Damn girl! You look hot as fuck!” You blush profusely at her words managing to stammer out a thank you. You have never been good at taking compliments because you always get a little shy and awkward.

Tony pokes his head around the doorframe and gives a whistle. “You are smoking hot Y/n, I mean if I didn’t have Pepper I would be all over you. You ready to go?” Not waiting for an answer he turns and starts towards the elevator. You follow but not before exchanging an eye roll with Wanda about Tony’s words. The elevator ride is short and smooth thanks to Tony’s engineering so you don’t have enough time to succumb to the urge of placing your hands on the bars and pushing while lifting your feet. The elevator beeps, Jarvis informing you that you’ve reached the ground level and the doors open. You step out ready to get on with your night but the sight of Natasha just back from a mission freezes you in your tracks.

“Hi,” you say lamely, “I thought you were supposed to get back earlier today?”

“We had some intel that wasn’t fully correct but luckily it didn’t take too long to fix. You look different, where are you heading off to?”

You glance at Tony and Wanda for help because for some reason you feel awkward telling her but they don’t seem to know what you want so you answer anyways. “We’re going clubbing, I’m kinda nervous since I haven’t been in awhile but Wanda helped me get ready-”

“Hey I helped too!”

You ignore Tony’s protest and continue to speak. “-and I think it should be fun. Also there will for sure be hot girls there which is always a plus.”

“Seems like it should be fun,” she responds in her monotone ‘I don’t care’ voice that you hate, “Good luck with the girls though, because your hair looked better long, I don’t like it like this.” You don’t usually get offended easily but you feel tears spring to your eyes at her comment. The only good part is that she doesn’t notice because she’s already walking away, swaying her hips, either not knowing or caring that she hurt you.

Tony and Wanda rush over to you. “Oh sweetie,” Wanda comforts while wrapping an arm around you, “don’t listen to her, that’s not true at all!”

“Then why would she say it?” You ask, careful to keep your voice from cracking because you hated showing when you were upset.

“I don’t know and honestly I don’t give a fuck.” Tony replies. “Just don’t think about it too much, the whole point of this night is to get over her anyways.” You give him a small smile at that. Tony is good with words which translates into being good at comforting people. You know he’s right so although the comment is still upsetting you do your best to push it out of your mind. Locking arms with both Tony and Wanda you pull them towards the door and into the waiting limo. You couldn’t help but smile at the way Tony ruffled your hair as you stepped in or how Wanda kept running her fingers over her arm in an attempt to be reassuring. You had the best friends.

The ride over seemed way shorter than it was supposed to be and before you knew it the limo was stopped to let the three of you out. You take a deep breath and wipe your sweaty palms on your dress before smiling and stepping out after Tony and Wanda. Nobody seems to have noticed the three of you yet which was a good thing. Being Avengers Tony and Wanda were pretty much celebrities and often got swarmed by groups of fans. Technically you were an avenger as well but like Natasha and Clint it was only because you were a Shield so while you did get recognized it wasn’t as often and only tended to happen if you were with other avengers. You make your way inside, splitting from Tony and Wanda at the door. The plan was for them to go to the bar and look over you from there while you went straight to the dance floor because you preferred to be anonymous tonight and they would ruin that and also you didn’t feel like getting drunk. That was the plan at least but you suspected that they would get too drunk to continue watching over you because it had been stressful lately with a lot of paperwork and they needed to unwind. Wanda had practically confirmed that fact when she gave you permission to leave without them.

You step over to the dance floor glancing around to see if there looked to be any single women already there. The reason you had chosen this club was because although it wasn’t lgbtq+ exclusive, it was open to everybody and therefore frequented by many members of the community.

Just as you were glancing around you felt a tap on your shoulder. “Wanna dance?” You spin around to find the most beautiful girl you’ve ever seen, apart from Natasha. It bothers you that you’re using Natasha as your standard and comparing other girls to her but you brush that off.

“I would love to!” At your response she takes your hand, pulling you into the crowd and starts to dance. You dance as well and slowly you lose track of time as you loosen up and your dancing with the girl becomes less and less innocent. You can feel yourself caring less about what Natasha thought although as great as this girl seemed to be you knew you weren’t ready for a relationship so you hoped she wasn’t looking for one. After what could be a couple of hours because you’ve completely lost track of time, you and the girl whose name you still don’t know head over to a corner of the room and take a seat on two of the stools that were provided.

“Hi, I feel like I should know your name by now, I’m Y/n.” You introduce yourself.

“Wait I thought you looked familiar!” She exclaims. “You’re the Y/n that’s a part of the avengers right?”

You awkwardly give a nod and gesture towards the bar where you can see Tony and Wanda who have obviously had at least a few drinks each. “Tony and Wanda came with me. They are just over there but I didn’t particularly want the spotlight tonight so I split from them at the door.”

“I understand, I must admit I have no desire to be famous. I’m Jamie by the way” She says with a cute little giggle before her mood seems to be more solemn. “I can’t believe I’m saying this to a literal avenger and if my friends find out they are going to kill me but I’m sorry if you’re looking for a relationship but I just got out of a serious relationship and am not ready for another one quite yet.”

You let out a relieved sigh. “I’m not looking for a relationship either, because I’m trying to get over my feelings for a friend.”

“Phew!” She replies. “But tell me more about this ‘friend’ of yours.” You take a minute to think before deciding that Jamie could be trusted. You begin to spill all about your feelings for Natasha and how she didn’t seem interested and what she said to you on your way here. Jamie listens sympathetically the entire time before telling you all about how she thought her ex was the one but it turns out she was emotionally abusive. Even though you just met you talk like old friends, offering advice on serious topics but also chatting about random things. You have 3 more drinks each and after every drink your barriers crumble more and more. Eventually you exchange numbers so you can meet up again although you both agreed it would be a platonic meetup. Just as you were giggling about a joke you couldn’t even remember, you saw Jamie tense up and a second later you felt a hand on your shoulder. You turn your head in anger expecting it to be some creepy guy trying to hit on you but it turns to confusion when you see Natasha.

“Can we talk?” She asks, giving Jamie a dirty look. “At the tower. Without her.”

“Why?” You ask. “I’m having fun here Nat.” You specifically say her name as you speak so Jamie knows who you’re talking to.

“Just come home.” She says not answering your question, instead tugging at your wrist lightly. You sigh not knowing what to do so you glance at Jamie for help.

She shrugs and then says, “I have a ride home planned if you want to leave, but I wouldn’t mind staying longer if that’s what you want.”

You make a quick decision in your head before responding, “Ok, we’ll go back to the tower but there better be a good reason.” You then turn to Jamie, “Text me when you get home so I know you’re safe, and then we can figure out when to hang out.”

“Of course,” she agrees leaning forwards to hug you while whispering in your ear, “good luck but remember not to let her treat you badly just because you’re in love with her.” You pull back from the hug and smile at her as Natasha’s hand moves down to your own as she starts walking, pulling you along with her. You can barely think straight, you have no idea what is going on with Natasha or why she’s acting so weirdly. You glance over to Tony and Wanda to see if they’ve noticed what’s going on but just as you suspected they were drunk out of their minds. If they were normal friends you would have worried about them but you knew Tony’s drivers would get them home safe because although Tony was more responsible with Pepper around this was not the first time they’ve had to haul his drunk ass back to the tower.

Natasha continues to pull you out the door and over to her parked motorcycle where she hands you a helmet and one of her leather jackets. Still not speaking she hops on and motions for you to get on behind her. You swing your leg over the side somewhat awkwardly and scoot forwards so you can grab onto her waist. Once she’s sure you’re secured properly she hits the gas, the motorcycle roaring as it starts. You’ve never been on her motorcycle before so at first you are a bit nervous but after a couple of minutes you start to feel more comfortable. At this point your only nerves come from holding Natasha and wondering what she wants to talk to you about and not the motorcycle ride. Compared to the ride over to the club, this ride feels like it’s taking forever as you start to go over all the important reasons Nat would want to talk to you. You still didn’t know how to feel about everything because she insulted you earlier and now is making you feel important. To protect your feelings you tell yourself that there is probably a mission or a meeting that came up last minute and this isn’t just Natasha wanting to talk. It’s improbable because if that was the case she would have outright said so but you can’t think of any more plausible reasons off the top of your head. Luckily before you can analyze her strange behavior anymore you reach the tower and after parking underground you follow Natasha upstairs into the main living area which is obviously deserted as it is now between 3 and 4 am.

“So why did you want to talk?” You ask, breaking the silence as you take a seat on the couch.

“Why did you go to a club?” She asks, also sitting down on the other end of the couch, avoiding your question.

A surge of anger floods through you and while you don’t shout, you raise your voice a little. “Answer the fucking question Nat. Or did you bring me all the way back just to ask that?”

She looks somewhat surprised that you raised your voice but she keeps hers even. “I just wanted to know. It looked like you were having fun with whoever that girl is.”

“Yeah I was.” You respond, still confused. “But how do you know that?”

Natasha avoids eye contact looking everywhere but you. “I was watching you.”

“YOU WERE WHAT?” You shout before lowering your voice to avoid waking up the whole tower. “Why the fuck were you spying on me?”

“I- I wasn’t.” She replies seemingly caught off guard by your tone of voice. “I wanted to make sure you were safe.”

“Tony and Wanda were with me.” You respond confused. There’s something she’s not telling you that’s making her act weird. She knew you could handle yourself so she obviously was not telling the truth, or at least omitting details. She hasn’t responded to your last statement, instead choosing to look at you in the weird way she does that makes you feel like you’re being interrogated. You decide that if she isn’t going to talk, you won’t either so you pull your phone out of your jacket to check it. You see a text from Jamie saying she got home ok with a little smiley face at the end that causes you to smile. You type back a quick reply, just saying you’re glad she’s safe and that you were with Natasha right now and were probably going to bed soon so you’d text her tomorrow. She wished you luck and goodnight with another little smiley face that made you smile again. Putting your phone away you look back up at Natasha only to find out she’s glaring at you.

Unsure of what could have changed her attitude towards you, you ask, “What?”

“Who were you talking to?” She asks ignoring your question for the second time tonight.

You sigh, “I don’t see how it’s any of your business but if you really must know I was just saying goodnight to the girl from the club, Jamie.”

“So that’s her name.” She says wrinkling her nose. Now you’re really confused as to what Natasha is thinking. You couldn’t tell on normal days but usually she acted rationally and never was like this.

“Why do you say it like that?” You ask.

“I don’t like her.”

“Why don’t you like her?”

“I just don’t.” She answers, offering no explanation. Although you do want to find out why Natasha doesn’t like her you’re too tired to spend the time asking questions so you stand up to go to bed.

“Where are you going?” She demands.

You sigh for what feels like the thousandth time of the night. “I’m going to bed. You wanted to talk to me but won’t actually talk, and when I ask you questions, instead of responding you insult my new friend.”

“Friend?” She questions.

“Jamie.” You say confused because you thought the answer was obvious.

“Oh.” She responds, “I’m sorry, please stay.” You think about it for a second, deciding to stay so you go to sit down again, but before you do Natasha scoots over to your end of the couch pulling you down into her side. Your entire body freezes up because you’re so unsure of what to do. Natasha never initiated physical contact of any kind but now she was practically hugging you. Seeming to realize how uncomfortable you were, she quickly moves away.

“Sorry,” she mutters, “That was stupid.”

“No, no, it’s fine, you can come back.” You respond quickly. As much as you were uncomfortable, it felt really nice to have her by your side. She somewhat shyly shifts back over to you but this time instead of wrapping her arm around your shoulders she nuzzles into your side, maneuvering your arms so they wrap around her. You have no idea what’s going on right now but you can’t help but smile as you look down at her. She looks cute and relaxed, with her hair covering parts of her face. Thinking about her hair reminds you of her opinion of your new haircut. You bite your lip nervously as you debate asking her about that or not. You definitely don’t want to ruin the cuddly mood that she’s in now but the comment still bothers you, not to mention you never actually found out why she took you home from the club.

“Um Natasha?” You ask in a timid voice. “Is my haircut really that bad?”

“Of course not, I think it suits you.” She responds smoothly. “I lied to you earlier.”

You smile at that. “Thank you but why?”

She takes a deep shaky breath before speaking. “Promise this won’t change anything between us first, that we will stay friends.”

“Ok,” You respond, earnest but confused, “I promise.”

“I didn’t like the idea of you going clubbing and coming home with some one night stand or even worse a girlfriend because I have feelings for you. So I was childish and took out my frustrations on you by pretending I didn’t like you. I’m sorry.” She’s looking up at you now, the most nervous you’ve ever seen her. Your mind is exploding with this new information and your heart feels so happy you can’t even believe what is going on.

“Is that why you were watching me with Jamie at the club and then told me you had to talk to me?”

“Yeah”

After a few more seconds of shocked silence that feels like hours to Natasha you finally speak. “I know I promised that this wouldn’t change anything between us but I don’t think it can be the same.” She starts to pull away from your side but before she can you lean over and press your lips against hers. At first you are hesitant but once she starts kissing back you gain confidence, the kiss getting more heated. After a minute or two you both pull away to catch your breath, smiling at each other.

Natasha lightly swats you on the arm. “You’re evil.” You giggle a little in response. “I was so worried for a second there, I thought you would be weirded out by that.” She continues also giggling slightly.

“I’m surprised you didn’t know that I had feelings for you,” you confess to her, “it was actually Tony and Wanda’s idea for me to go out because we all thought you didn’t like me so they thought it was a good idea to get over you.”

“Well that plan failed,” she says smirking, “I guess you can’t get over me.”

You look at her and yawn. “No I guess I can’t.”

At your yawn she glances at the clock. “We better get you to bed, it’s almost the time Steve wakes up for training.” You would like to spend more time with Natasha but you’re too tired to argue so you just nod and follow her as she pulls you up and leads you to your room, holding your hand the whole way. Inside your room she sits on your bed while you change, politely looking away. Once you’re in pyjamas you hold a pair out to her and she looks at you confused.

“Do you want to stay the night?” You ask her. She eagerly nods, accepting the pyjamas as you open your covers and crawl into bed. As soon as she’s done she turns off the lights and hops in behind you, spooning you. You sigh as you feel her plant a kiss on the back of your head. You can barely keep your eyes open and although you still haven’t talked about exactly what your new relationship with Natasha was yet, you were excited for what was to come. Your last thought before you drifted off to sleep was complete bliss as Natasha kept planting soft kisses on the back of your neck, head and shoulders.

The next morning you hear a loud pounding at your door. You groan and slowly gain consciousness, smiling as you remember last night and the redhead still cuddling you. Just like yesterday Tony doesn’t bother to wait for you to answer and instead barges straight in. His eyes widen when he sees the two of you spooning and he starts to splutter. You laugh at him with Natasha until he shouts for the other avengers to come. Multiple pairs of footsteps make your way to your bedroom and you see the shocked faces of a few of the other avengers, including Wanda, Steve and Clint.

“What,” Natasha says speaking up, “can’t a girl cuddle with her girlfriend in peace?” Steve immediately apologizes, ushering everyone out of the room and closing the door.

You raise your eyebrow. “Girlfriends?”

“I assumed so, if you want.” She responds.

“I like the sound of that...girlfriend.” You both smile at each other. You definitely did not complete your goal of getting over Natasha and instead fell further in love but you were totally ok with that.

#marvel #natasha #romanoff #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #x reader #fanfiction #fic #marvel fanfiction #tony stark #wanda maximoff #clint barton #orignial character

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tsukibraun · 4 years

Text

Pragma Love; Jean Kirschtein x reader

genre: angst, hurt/comfort, fluff

type: series, blurb

summary: you and jean slowly develop feelings for each other over time, but you both quickly learn that love isn’t as easy as you thought

warnings: feelings of worthlessness (you get better in the end tho cause you’re a legend, obviously)

listen to: Crush- Yuna, Usher

part 1/2

read part 2 here!

Self-worth is a tricky thing. You have to know when to be humble and when to humble others. You have to be able to determine what’s just a small flaw in someone’s personality and what’s them trying to walk all over you. You have to have enough love and respect for yourself without becoming a complete narcissist. You have to know what type love you deserve and how to reject the love you don’t like. And when someone tries to challenge your worth, you have to be ready to honestly defend yourself.

This is something you’d struggled with for a long time. It wasn’t easy being able to discern people’s intentions or to come up with a reason for why they treated you the way they did. Yeah, sure, this person could just be a total jerk, or you could’ve done something to deserve the harsh treatment. Maybe you really hurt them without realizing; maybe they’re just reacting that way to defend themselves. They could be a bad person, but what if it was the other way around? You never wanted to assume anything about anyone, but in recent years you’ve learned that sometimes that’s what you have to do.

That was the first thing you noticed about Jean. You witnessed the fight he’d had with Eren in the lunchroom one night. They both retaliated back at each other, but there was something different about the way he was doing it. Eren was clearly angry and wouldn’t let someone challenge his opinions, but Jean- Jean was beyond confident. He wasn’t threatened at all by Eren or his opinions; in fact, it seemed Jean knew he was right, at least in his head, and didn’t mind letting someone know that. He was confident in himself, like he knew he’d come out as the victor; but even if he didn’t, you had a feeling he wouldn’t be too bothered by it. He seemed like the type to just be proud of making his point.

At that time, you couldn’t imagine getting into an argument like that with someone. If they disagreed with you, even if you were clearly right, you would just let it go. ‘There’s no reason to put up a fight’, you’d say, ‘they have a valid reason to think what they think’. Even if they persisted after you clearly would not retaliate, you’d either end up agreeing with them to get them off your back or just sit and take it. Confrontation wasn’t an option and must be avoided at all costs, even if you weren’t the one that started it.

That was the first thing Jean noticed about you.

You were very quiet and laid-back; you often didn’t say much when you guys were in groups. You would just sit back and listen, quietly laughing at jokes from time to time. You weren’t quiet forever, though. After a couple of months you started to open up more; not too much, but it was progress. Little by little you would start to engage in group discussion, agreeing with someone, cracking a joke, or adding to the conversation in general. He thought it was so weird. You clearly had a lot more to say but you just...didn’t. You always bit your tongue and let someone else say it, or just let the idea disappear entirely. He didn’t pester you at first, though. He wanted to see how you would come out on your own.

There was one night, though, where he was really irked by your shyness.

It was late the night before an expedition. You guys were supposed to be asleep by then, but the night before a mission is always a restless one. While some scouts were responsible enough to get some shut eye, you, Jean, Berdolt, Reiner, Mikasa, Eren, Sasha, Krista, and Ymir had other plans. All of you sat in the lunchroom, making casual conversation. It was simple things, like games you would play as kids, things you hated, funny stories from before you became scouts. Eventually, though, you began to discuss your current reality. At first it began with the EDM gear, talking about improvements, how hard it was to use, what you liked about it, etc. Then you came to the topic of Titans. Many different things were talked about here, but there was one question that made everyone tense up: If you could only save your family or fellow cadet, who should you pick?

Ymir asked this question, of course, smirking at the change in atmosphere. This was a very sensitive question for many reasons, but you didn’t think too much of it. Everyone is different with their own experiences and reasons for why or why they wouldn’t do certain things. Eren was the first to answer. “What kind of question is that? You’d save your family, obviously.” No one answered for a while, each person contemplating their answer. “Do you guys seriously have to think about this?” Eren pestered. Finally, Jean answered. “As much as I can’t stand you, Eren, I’ll have to agree with you on this one.”

Everyone else began to give their answers and it started a small debate, but you were still thinking. Jean wondered if you were just gonna sit this one out again, and honestly the idea irritated him. But to his surprise (and everyone else’s) you gave an answer. “I’d save the cadet.” Everyone went quiet and stared at you, somewhat because they were shocked you answered, and somewhat shocked of your answer. Eren in particular didn’t like it. “Are you serious? You’d pick a soldier over your own family?” The tone in his voice made you anxious, but you still decided to explain yourself.

“Well, it’s not like I don’t love my family or anything but...in most cases, the cadet is more important...in practical ways at least. I’d obviously try to save my family afterwards but-“

“How heartless are you?” He interrupted. You felt a lump form in your throat as you predicted the confrontation that was about to ensue. “How could you say that? A soldier is more important than your mother, then? Sister? Father?” You gulped, trying your best not to freak out in front of everyone. You took a couple seconds to make sure he was done before speaking again. “Well...I don’t really view you all as just soldiers,” you trailed off looking at your feet, “I do care about all of you. I don’t hold the people I care about one against the other. I care for each of them all the same.”

“So, in this certain scenario, although I would never want my family to die, saving the soldier is more practical. They’re an extra set of hands, skill, thinking ability- we all know how devastating it is to lose a soldier. Everything becomes incessantly harder. What if they were really needed for future fights? What if they were an important asset? And, if I were able to save them, they could help me possibly save my family.” You finally looked up for a second, seeing everyone’s reaction to your words. You immediately looked somewhere else so you could finish your point.

“Saving a cadet isn’t just saving them, it’s also saving the rest of us. If I were to go after my family, what other things would I miss? More Titans coming? A retreat?A change of plan? And even if I did save them, it’s another liability.” You finally looked Eren in the eyes, seeing his clenched fist and strong glare. “Unfortunately, in this world, we can’t always go after what we want. Sometimes we have to go after what we need, even if that means losing something we want. Our decisions don’t just affect us- they affect everyone.”

A long silence followed the end of your tangent. This was the most you’d ever said in one go, and they didn’t quite know how to take it. They didn’t know you had such detailed thinking, either. They shared glances with each other before some began to speak again. “You know,” Berdolt said rubbing his chin, “when you put it like that, I can see your point.”

“Yeah,” Krista agreed, “I’m not sure I would do the same thing, but I can see where you’re coming from.” Eren scoffed. “You guys are delusional. The only reason you’re agreeing with her is because you pity her.” You straightened up, palms sweating. He could be right; you saw the looks on their faces when you were done. They could just be trying to keep you from feeling dumb. Before you could say anything else, Jean came to your defense. “And what’s that supposed to mean?” He asked, cocking his head to the side and leaning forward.

“You know exactly what I mean,” Eren continued, “the girl never says anything!”

“And so what if she doesn’t,” Jean asked, “she’s not bothering you. Why do you care so much?”

“I don’t-“

“Then leave her alone,” he interrupted, “She’s allowed to have her own opinion just like the rest of us. If you’re gonna get that pissed about it, maybe you should go to sleep.” Eren quickly stood up, ready to fight with Jean again, but Mikasa quickly stopped him. You looked between the two of them not quite sure of what to do; you decided not to say anything more to Eren since you had clearly made him upset. Instead, you quietly tapped Jean’s arm and gave a quiet “Thank you.” He gave you a small smile. “Don’t mention it. You know, though,” he said leaning closer to you, “you really need to learn to stick up for yourself. You can’t be so quiet all the time or else stuff like this is gonna keep happening.” He was so close you swore he could hear your unsteady heart rate; still, you returned his word with a small smile and nod.

Ever since then, you two were close.

It wasn’t necessarily a closeness that was outwardly established between you two, it was just there. If he saw you getting anxious, depending on the situation, he would invite you over to where he was. If not, he would give you a certain look, similarly to asking if you were okay or telling you everything was okay. You sat close to each other during meals; if one of you had a smaller portion than the other, you would give a piece of your meal without saying anything. You made sure you were in eyeshot of each other, whether that be on an expedition or simple training. It wasn’t an obsessive thing, just comforting.

Being around Jean made you open up more. Slowly, you began to be okay with showing others who you were. You began to talk louder, laugh more, speak your mind (with tact, of course), and stand your ground. It wasn’t to Jean’s level, but it was there. You noticed other small differences, too. If you needed help with something, you weren’t afraid to ask for it. You could come into a conversation without overthinking it. You began to speak to other people first instead of waiting for them to speak to you. You could walk up to a group of people without feeling like you were intruding. You were able to really live, now. And it was with his help.

The more you came out of your shell, the more Jean absolutely adored you. Sometimes he would be the one to sit back and observe; he would watch you talk and laugh with everyone and be completely infatuated with you. Your laugh, your smile, your humor, your kindness, your little mannerisms; the more and more he was with you, the more he realized he was in love with you. Completely in love with you. So much so it actually started to hurt.

Although he loved being around you, knowing that any of the cadets could have a chance of sweeping you off your feet frustrated him. Since you came out, everyone noticed your charm. The boys had complimented you a couple times, to which Jean told them all to shut up. He wanted to tell you how he felt, and he eventually would, but he had no idea when. He had to use tact like you did so you wouldn’t be too shocked and reject him, but he wasn’t quite sure how. Although you two were close, he had no idea what you wanted in a guy, especially not how you’d want to be confessed to. You didn’t seem to want much from anyone, but there was a part of you he didn’t know yet; the romantic part- that part of you with anyone was completely closed off. He didn’t want to ask you, either, because it was clearly something you weren’t too comfortable talking about.

He had no idea what to do, which was a pretty rare occurrence, at least when it came to women. Either way, he was going to tell you. He just had to figure out when.

Meanwhile, you were completely ignoring your feelings for Jean. Although you were a lot more open with everyone, there were certain parts you kept from them, even from yourself. You noticed the butterflies in your stomach, a different type of longing for his presence, him popping up in your head at random times. You knew how you felt about him, but you continued to lie to yourself. “It’s nothing,” you’d say, “I’m just overthinking it.”

You’d noticed him staring at you with a certain look in his eyes; the way he’d smile at you, the way he’d purposely brush your hands together when walking by, him being more protective and watchful of you- it was little stuff, but clearly different than what it’d been before.

And you absolutely loved it.

You didn’t notice, but you began to do the same thing. Smiling at him if you saw him sleep, fussing at him if he ever got hurt, making sure he had everything he needed at all times, fixing his collar or hair when it was a mess; everyone else saw it except you.

One day you’d have to come to terms with how you felt, but until then, you’d deny the feelings every change you got.

***

uh...hi!! this is something pretty different from what i normally do 😅 i’m not too comfortable writing stuff like this but i’m trying my best! hopefully this was a nice introduction to this series. anyways, if you read all of it, thank you sm!! i can’t tell you how much i appreciate it. take care and stay safe!<333

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akitokihojo · 3 years

Text

Stay

Woah, two posts in one day? Yeah... yeeeeeeah. I don't usually post so late, but as I sat here staring at this document, I realized that if I don't post it now, I never will.

Okay, look, this story is extremely personal for me and I want to give a warning about that. If you know me or have been following me for a while, you may have noticed I tend to keep to myself, I'm quiet, and I'm private. But, as most humans, I have things I battle, too. I've been through things, too.

My coping mechanisms are humor and "add to cart." My therapy is writing. I decided to give this a shot. I've gotten personal with older fics before, but it's vague and I sort of lightly mix it in there like food seasonings. "Everything's Okay" and "A Moment" are examples of which. This story is largely based off something real. The emotion behind it is real. Very real.

Now, I will admit, the comfort added isn't. It's something I've realized over the past couple of years that I both crave and deserve. It's something that would help me incredibly, and maybe it's unrealistic, but that doesn't take away from the fact that I want it. So bad. So, I wrote. I made it happen.

I decided to project everything into my comfort otp, so if either Kagome or Inuyasha seem out of character, it's because they are. Sorry about that. It was difficult to keep their characteristics in tact. Particularly, Inuyasha. He's unbelievably soft here.

This is sloppy. I did my best to edit, but like I said, the longer I sat on it, the less likely it was bound to be posted. Just consider it unfiltered emotions if it seems messy, because that's what it's supposed to be.

Some disclaimers that I'll open up about: Yes, all of those negative things have been said to me by a past ex. What Kagome tells Inuyasha is very real for me. Also, replace "abusive father" with "abusive mother" and you've got it. :) I just didn't feel comfortable disrespecting mama higurashi with such slander, so since Kagome's father isn't in the picture, it was simpler.

Okay, I'm done. Thank you. If you read this, thank you. Again.

---

“Come on, Kagome. Show me.” Inuyasha encouraged supportively.

Kagome sighed, adjusting the shorts a bit better around her waist as she stared at herself in the mirror on the inside of the door. She’d comfortably tucked herself away in the walk-in closet of her boyfriend’s bedroom, preferring the space she had and the length of the mirror as opposed to the bathroom that only showed her up to her hips unless she bounced to her tippy toes.

“Houston, we have a problem.” She spoke.

“Define ‘problem.’” Inuyasha proposed. “Because, I realized a long time ago that you and I have two totally different definitions of the word.”

No, this was a definite problem. Unfortunately, it seemed she’d purchased clothing from one of the retailers that didn’t quite grasp that some woman had thicker asses and thighs. The shorts fit, but they hugged her in places she needed a little more room in. God forbid, she sit down. Then, they’d fit her like underwear.

The band was comfortable along her hips, but felt a little better if she pulled it up a smidge toward her waist. But then the underside of her booty cheeks popped out, and that for sure wasn’t something she could sport in public. Or, she could. She just wouldn’t be comfortable doing so. It wasn’t her style. She preferred a hint of more modesty. Not to mention, the shorts were very tight against her lady bits, and that was definitely something she didn’t want her clothing riding up on.

“Babe.”

“Curse these thighs.”

“Oh, see what I mean?” He chimed from the other side of the door. “That’s the exact opposite of a problem.”

“It’s a problem if the shorts don’t fit, Inuyasha.”

“Show me.”

“They don’t fit.”

“Okay, we’ll return them. But, show me first.”

“Why do you want to see them if they don’t fit?” She laughed lightly.

“Why wouldn’t I? Do I have to spell this out to you every time?” Inuyasha asked, making it obvious that he was feigning irritation.

“It doesn’t hurt.”

“Alright, first of all, I know you’re ridiculously critical of yourself. I have a more objective point of view, and therefore that makes my opinion the only valid one here.”

“Hey -“

“I’m not finished. Second, I love seeing you in tight clothing. That’s a given. You don’t have to keep it, and you should always wear things you’re comfortable in, but at least do the right thing and let me see first. I think I deserve that much. Third, and most importantly, ass and thighs. Your ass and thighs.” Inuyasha made a chef’s kiss motion even though she couldn’t see, losing himself in the thought of some of his favorite assets of hers. “You know damn well how much I love them. So, please - please - come out and show me, Kagome.”

Behind the door, she fought her smile, losing so quickly it was as if she hardly stood a chance against it. It wasn’t that she didn’t like her body, but he was right. There were some imperfections that had her self-conscious at times, and he knew without saying when they started dating over five months ago that her thighs were one of them. And, she could tell the half demon she called hers genuinely adored everything she deemed unworthy.

Giving a minor adjustment to make sure the area between her thighs had enough room to breathe, she sighed out any apprehension and opened the door. Inuyasha sat on the edge of the bed waiting, golden eyes instantly on her. He skimmed over the way she’d tucked her shirt into the underside of her bra to keep it out of the way, gazed at her tummy for a small moment, then drifted his sights down to the shorts hugging her snuggly.

He barely blinked, his expression practically blanking, and Kagome’s cheeks went red hot.

“Inuyasha?”

“Shh. I’m concentrating.”

Kagome laughed, turning away from him bashfully.

“Shit, no! I wasn’t ready for that!” He cried, pressing the heels of his hands into his temples as if he were in a panic. Her ass. It looked phenomenal. He wasn’t mentally prepared to see just how plump it looked in those bottoms, and it sent his mind reeling.

“What!?” She gasped, her hands instinctually falling to cover her butt as she spun back to face the way she’d originally been.

“Oh my god.” Inuyasha mewled. “Are you kidding me, Kagome!? Where’s the problem!? Where’s the mother fucking problem!? Because, I don’t see it!”

It was thought to be impossible, but she felt her face flush even hotter. So hot, she wanted to hide it, knowing full and well her embarrassment was visible and prominent. She kind of tucked her head down slightly, hoping the dim lighting in his room would be her ally and shade her blush while she presented her issues with the garment of clothing.

“Well, it’s tight on my thighs. See, when I do this -“ She explained as she lifted her leg slightly as if she was going to take a step forward. The bottom hem of her shorts tightened against her quad, squeezing around the plush before riding up an inch. “It’s not very comfortable. I like a bit of a looser fit. And, then my butt. It’s suffocating. I’m scared one wrong move will make these shorts rip.”

“God forbid.”

“Inuyasha, seriously.” She deadpanned.

“Sorry, sorry. I’m listening. Anything else?” He apologized with a grin, conceding.

“Yes. I can’t sit in these.”

“Why not?”

“Too tight.”

“So, you literally can’t sit?”

“No, I mean I’m sure I can. It’s just not a good idea.”

“Because, they’ll rip?”

“That. Or, they’ll turn into chonies.”

“What?”

“Underwear.”

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t aware you got such versatile clothing. I could have sworn we were nowhere near the lingerie section.”

Kagome laughed through her groan, tossing her head back in minor exasperation due to her boyfriend’s sarcasm. It was going to be hard to describe, and she was sure if she attempted such he’d only throw more jokes her way, so she shut her mouth and decidedly took to demonstrating her vexation. She crossed the floor, hoped for the best, and plopped into a seat right next to Inuyasha. Her thighs fluffed out and her shorts effectively rode all the way up, giving her legs the attention they apparently demanded.

Inuyasha’s eyes were glued to her thighs and the way her clothing wrinkled along her anatomy. He’d had to press his lips into a tight line to prevent their proud and joyful crinkle, but it was so desperately difficult to fend off. Kagome was quick to notice and her brows pinched together, a small pout forming.

“You tricked me.” She murmured. “You wanted me to sit down, didn’t you?”

“I’ll admit, it was a lot easier than I expected it would be.” He said, gently stroking the pads of his fingers over the softness of her legs. “Again, I find it important to remind you that you and I clearly have very different definitions of what a problem is. This… this is not a problem. Not at all.”

“Well, see, I sort of wanted to be able to wear these outside of your apartment.” Kagome giggled, inadvertently melting into his touch. It was so light, it almost tickled, but she felt his warmth radiating from his hand, she felt his attraction, she felt his good-natured and honest feelings toward her body, and it was nothing short of what she both wanted and needed right now.

“I know, I know. We’ll return them and get a larger pair. Still, not a problem.” He grinned, planting his whole palm on her thigh and sliding it inward, shoving it to sit in the heat between. He leaned over and kissed her temple.

“Don’t even think about it.” Kagome hummed, leaning into his tender touch.

“Hm?”

“You’re about to lay down on my thighs, aren’t you?”

“What? I can’t?” The half demon pouted with legitimate shock on his brow.

“The moment you’re down, you’re down. You know damn well you’re not getting up if I let you, and I want to get out of these shorts.”

“But, Kagome -“

“Boy, if you knew exactly how these are constricting certain areas, you’d understand.” She laughed, playfully shoving his hand off of her as she stood. Before walking toward the closet where she’d left her skirt, she turned to face her boyfriend, bending at the waist and pushing his bangs from his forehead to plant a kiss against his skin. “I should get going soon, anyway. It’s getting late.”

“Don’t go, then.” He said, tone gruff as his amber eyes met hers. “Stay with me.”

It wasn’t the first time he’d asked her to stay the night, impromptu. Far from it. Every time, though, caused something in her chest to stir, something in her stomach to flutter, something in her bloodstream to effervesce in both a wonderful and unsettling way - the unsettling part deriding from a different emotion she’d recently noticed planting its roots somewhere inside of her. Inuyasha grabbed her hand, running his thumb over the tops of her fingers while his expression shifted to one of seriousness. No jokes, no funny business, no sarcasm was present any longer.

“I don’t feel like I got all the time I wanted with you. Since we were out and about most of the day, I feel like I had to share parts of you with the world, so now that it’s just you and I, I’m not quite ready to let you go. Will you stay?”

Internally, Kagome was telling herself to keep it together. It was such a small gesture, such a tiny request, but it was always the little things he said to her, like this, the mannerisms he displayed when he was sincere, the way his amber eyes met hers when he waited for her answer that had her feeling unstable. Like, she could cry. Like, she was more afraid than she was thirty seconds ago, or an hour ago, or when she saw his smile earlier this afternoon when they met up, or last night, or when she crashed and burned upon realizing what, exactly, it was she felt for Inuyasha a month ago. She swallowed, forcing herself to show none of that as she made a small smile appear on her face.

“Can I borrow a shirt to sleep in?”

A grin sprouted on Inuyasha’s lips as he kissed the hand he held, standing to cross over to his dresser.

“You want your favorite, or a different one?” He asked, ignoring the twitch his own sensitive ear gave as the wood scraped open.

“Whichever. Can I take a shower?”

“Of course.” He said in a manner that suggested she knew she didn’t have to ask by now. He was well-acquainted with her routine and how she preferred showers before bed as opposed to first thing in the morning. That, and they’d recently gotten her some extra toiletries to store in his bathroom for times she stayed over. He was equipped for her company, and sooner or later, Kagome was bound to learn that she was more than welcome to treat his place as her own. Her scent, her voice, her contagious laughter were all he needed, and if his apartment was filled with it, Inuyasha couldn’t think of anything that would make him happier.

Kagome took the large band tee the hanyou offered with a grateful smile and snagged some boxers from the top drawer he’d just opened with a playful, little scrunch of her nose before ambling over to the closet to pick up her skirt and reach for a towel on the shelf.

Why? Why was her heart thumping uncontrollably? She was so happy. So, so, so content. But, yet a crippling sensation was crawling its way up her esophagus to make home in her throat; to grow large, and dense, and sit there to make it impossible to swallow any longer. Ever since that night a month ago, when she’d hung up the phone after a goodnight call with Inuyasha - who was traveling at the time for work, was beyond tired, spoke to her in that husky tone she was utterly weak for, and who’d called out of mere courtesy to let her know he’d made it to his destination safely - she hadn’t been feeling secure. Not because of him. He hadn’t done anything wrong. In fact, despite their little, bickering spats and his tendency to get a bit jealous over guys she spoke to, he was doing everything right. He wasn’t the one giving her reason to fear. It was her.

It was what she’d been through.

It was something she was so terrified he would turn around and say to her, that it practically debilitated her rational mind.

But, still, the feeling it stemmed from grew and expanded, the tree roots burying themselves in the soil of her heart, and Kagome was positive by now, after thirty days had passed with no decrease but, instead, the exact opposite, that there was no convincing herself that it wasn’t there. Because, every time she saw him smile, every time he held her hand, every time he expressed himself to her, it banged on her walls like an innocent prisoner demanding freedom.

When she was sure her emotions weren’t superficial, when she was positive there was no changing anything on her end, Kagome had to really look within herself to figure out how to maneuver about things. Did she openly tell him? Was there a right time to say these things? She even debated never saying anything at all, and for a good while, she was settled on that option. It wasn’t the right thing to do, though. It was like she was allowing her past, her previous broken heart, to dictate how she expressed affection toward others, and the potential ‘others’ who hadn’t done her wrong didn’t deserve that. Kagome had always been the type to wear her rather large and vulnerable heart on her sleeve. The cage she held it in now, it wasn’t locked. She wanted to put it back where it belonged, but she was so scared, it made her nauseous. The cage door was opened, held cracked from the inside, the weary organ protecting itself behind a barrier that just needed some encouragement to come out from.

Again, she’d wondered to herself countless times: was there a right moment to say something like this? Was there a procedure she needed to follow? She’d said it first last time, and nothing ended in her favor, so maybe she shouldn’t be the one to initiate this topic? Maybe it applied too much pressure? Should she just keep it to herself behind lock and key? Was he going to be receptive? Was it going to scare him away? Please, don’t scare him away. Please, please don’t leave.

And, countless times, she ended up in tears from the crushing weight of it. Kagome knew the truth. She didn’t have to consult anyone to know what the right thing to do was. It didn’t matter how many nights she stared at the ceiling obsessing over right and wrong, this or that, pros and cons, yes and no’s, because in the back of her mind, the answer was right there in big, bold letters. She was just trying to dance around it. It was so stressful. Something that was depicted as a happy and liberating occurrence was reduced to horrifying and anxiety-inducing for her.

The fact of the matter was, no one should have the power to change her heart. More so, Kagome shouldn’t give anyone that power. The way she felt so deeply was, in fact, a good thing. It was. It was. It was a fight just to get herself to understand that again, feeling like she was convincing herself of something she no longer believed, but she knew the only way she would, once more, feel that freedom was to open up. Stop hiding.

The thought was heavy. It didn’t sit comfortably with her. There were certain things Kagome was okay talking about, and there were certain things Kagome would rather eat up, swallow, and take to the grave. But, that was vulnerability, and she understood that if anyone deserved that part of you, it was your partner. Inuyasha was her partner. He was patient. He listened to her about things that made her uneasy, he took into account how she could be both a social butterfly sometimes and introverted during others, how when she was overwhelmed she had a tendency to shut down, how physical touch was her love language, and he even went so far as to ask her how she would prefer he respond to certain predicaments if she were to ever get overstimulated with him around.

Inuyasha had proved time and time again that he not only wanted to experience every side of her, but that he deserved it. He deserved it.

It jostled her to the core as she considered telling him now, her stomach churning, her heart pounding erratically, her bottom lip quivering as she’d learned to expect rejection. It was why she struggled initiating anything. It was why she had trouble saying the words to anyone but herself, “I want.” It was a learned reaction to her past trauma, but Inuyasha, the half dog demon she called hers, the silver-haired man who always did everything he could to make her feel safe while with him, the person who treated her as special as he’d insisted she was, wasn’t the one who’d hurt her. So, she’d decided over a week ago, she was going to do it. She was going to do it and let him know. Best case scenario, it was always nice to hear you’re loved and he may end up appreciating her confession. Worst case, things were going to get awkward and tense and it may end their relationship for good.

Kagome wanted to be Kagome again. Not the person she was before she’d met her ex. Not exactly, at least. She still wanted the lessons she’d learned with him to be applied to who she was. They were valuable, and not everything she learned had her closing off. As an open-minded thinker, she realized that not every wound left a scar, so not everything that happened made her a victim. Some things are just incidents that taught her lessons to take into tomorrow. So, she wanted to return to Kagome, the bright girl who faced her fears, who wore her precious heart on her sleeve, her loved with everything she had no matter what, but who was just a few experiences wiser. But, no one could do that for her. No one could give her that push she needed. It all came from within.

Of course, so did fear. So did nausea. So did that anxious part of her brain that said, “Let’s do it tomorrow, instead. Or, the day after that.”

Kagome took a deep breath, trembling as it may have been, and looked over to her boyfriend. He’d just removed his shirt from over his head, his short, tousled, silver strands appearing slightly messier than before once he was free, and he glanced over his shoulder her way, most likely feeling her eyes on him.

“Inuyasha,” She tried to come off as stable as possible, but there was an obvious waver in her tone that gave her trepidation away.

“Hm?” He hummed, the corners of his lips twitching downward before he dropped his shirt on the floor and faced her better.

“Can I - um…” It was impossible to hold her eyes steady on him, her deep, brown gaze falling to the floor every time she picked them up to look at him. “I need to talk to you about something.”

“Okay. I’m all yours.”

Kagome took another breath, willing her body to stop fidgeting. It was Inuyasha. It was just Inuyasha. As soon as she realized there was no stilling her fingers beneath the clothes and towel she held, or the way she bit hard into the inside of her bottom lip, she felt the best course of action was to simply carry on; wavering eye contact, trembling fingers, quivering lips, and all.

“Let me first preface this with: please don’t say anything. Just let me get it out there. I don’t expect anything from you in return, there’s no pressure whatsoever, and I would rather you not say anything at all. Like, at all. Okay?”

Truthfully, Inuyasha was freaked out. Had something happened? Was she about to admit to something bad? Kagome looked about ready to breakdown and cry, and the fact that she was asking for him to remain completely silent only told him she was afraid of judgement. Never had she asked him to stay quiet before. And, he hated how apprehensive his girlfriend looked right now. His instinct was to solve the problem, so what was he supposed to do here but agree to her terms?

“What’s going on, Kagome?”

“Please?”

“Alright. I won’t talk. Now, spill.”

She pinched the back of her wrist to stay grounded, to keep from crying. God, she was so pathetically nervous, and three times now, she’d almost convinced herself to back out and pretend it was a joke. That wouldn’t be right, though. She wanted to cry so bad and she hadn’t even said anything yet, so she pinched herself harder, her nails incidentally digging in. As soon as she felt a degree of control fall back into her grasps, Kagome leveled her gaze at him.

The words sat on her tongue, weighted with the shackles she’d placed there herself. A lump had formed and solidified in her throat, clinging for dear life and making everything so much harder than it needed to be. God, she was really shaking. Her breathing was becoming unsteady as if she’d already started crying and she could feel her expression crinkling into something terribly sad. She knew that was how she appeared only from the way Inuyasha’s lips parted, how his brows curved in worry, how he wanted to reach for her but seemed so confused that he could only stand there and wait.

Like a bandaid. Once the words were out, it wouldn’t be so bad anymore. She just had to get through it.

“Um - I - I - I am -“ The stammering was relentless, and out of sheer obstinance, Kagome shied away for one moment, took a short breath, huffed it out, then faced him again. “I’m in love with you.”

There was a slight arch to his brow, and his chin inched to the side minutely. Very slowly, Inuyasha’s lips sealed and his gaze hardened, falling to the ground. Hastily, Kagome followed her confession with disclaimers, irrevocably panicking.

“A-and, I don’t expect you to say it back! You don’t have to say a word about it! There’s no pressure at all, Inuyasha! I swear!” With each statement, he seemed to be growing more and more tense, and Kagome was terrified she was only making matters worse, but she blinked profusely so her tears didn’t have the chance to breach the brim of her lids. “I just wanted you to know. So, yeah. Now you know.” Her voice had fallen to a hitch just above a whisper at that point, admonished.

Inuyasha kept his promise. He didn’t speak. Kagome was stiff in her spot, not quite knowing what move to make next. She hadn’t thought this far ahead. It was hard to think beyond her admittance in the first place. It was too quiet, and she could hear the clock in the living room loudly ticking seconds by.

“Just nod or shake your head; do you still want me to stay?” She asked sheepishly.

Finally, Inuyasha’s glowing stare rose to hers again, and it frighteningly seemed to grow harder, more tense. She saw the rigid muscles of his jaw clench, and his chest rose with the very slow inhale he took through his nose. Steadily, the hanyou responded with a firm nod. In the next moment, he gestured for her to head down the hall to the bathroom with a notch of his chin, which she wasted no time in complying to. Kagome bit her lip, hard, shakily turned on her heel, and left Inuyasha alone in the room.

The second he heard the bathroom door lock and the shower turn on, Inuyasha dropped his seat on the bed, crumbling forward as he braced his forehead in his hands, elbows jabbing into his thighs. His chest was physically aching, his throat tight, and Inuyasha felt thoroughly crushed. He could literally see the fear in her eyes, the anxiety holding her by the neck. Why? Had he given her some reason to worry? Had he made it seem like that was a taboo topic?

It didn’t take long to rationalize. Logically, he knew it wasn’t him. It wasn’t personal. And, he knew that because he knew exactly how it felt to be afraid of unadulterated vulnerability. It felt like you were naked, exposed to the world, trusting someone with something so valuable and important when you weren’t even sure if you could trust yourself with something like that. It was hard. It was nerve wracking.

But, there was something deeper to it.

Why else would she insist he didn’t respond? It was clear as day. He knew that feeling. He’d been hurt before, too. They’d been together for almost half a year, he knew a good portion of her story, and she knew just as much about his. It was impossible to know it all quite yet, though. Five, six months may seem like a long time to some, but it’s honestly nothing in retrospect. They’re just scratching the surface. He knew the general aspects about her abusive father, he knew she had an emo phase in high school, he knew the superficial shit like her favorite colors, foods, drinks, what medications she needed to take and how often, he knew how she tasted, her tickle spots, where the heating pads were stashed in her apartment - because she had multiple for easy accessibility depending on what room she was in while she was down for the count on her period, and he knew she’d had her heart broken before. But, he didn’t know every little detail about certain things yet.

Inuyasha had had his heart broken before, as well. He knew that feeling. He knew how gruesome and tedious it was to start over, how awful the idea of opening up all over again was, how awkward and weary it felt to tiptoe around specific subjects until you felt comfortable enough describing them, so on and so forth. He knew. Just, apparently, not as well as Kagome did. He was willing to guess that her heart wasn’t just broken. It was trampled on.

His most recent relationship was up and down. He and his ex were never on the same page. He fell quickly but his feelings were unrequited. Then, later on, she began to show more affection, but he’d become closed off by the time that came. Nevertheless, neither of them spoke those words. They never truly opened up about what they felt, how they felt, or why they felt anything, especially romantically. Up until now, Inuyasha had never heard the words, “I’m in love with you.”

Up until recently, Inuyasha had never felt the urge to say, “I’m in love with you.”

No.

That’s wrong.

Sure, recent was a broad term, but it happened several months ago. Several months too soon, he’d deemed. Kagome was playing with his niece, teaching the six year-old how to use a toy compass she’d brought home from class, and congratulating her excitedly whenever Rin got something right. His niece wasn’t shy by any means. She was talkative, playful, bubbly, and bright. But, she had this thing about being touched. She didn’t like it. Only certain somebodies could hold her, hugs were off the table unless you were one of four people, high fives were a maybe, and yet he watched the little girl ask Kagome to watch a movie with her when she was done with the compass, cuddle up next to her on the couch, and fall asleep on her lap without persuasion.

That was it. Kagome respected Rin’s autonomy and boundaries, and Rin let her in by the third time they’d met.

And, Inuyasha fell. Hard.

Again, too soon. So, not saying it was easy. No big deal. After a while, it sort of began spilling out in his idiosyncrasies, in the way he touched her, worshipped her, in the way he craved the knowledge on how to properly care for her. In his terms, he was being painfully obvious. It was almost humiliating how obvious he was being.

It just looks like it wasn’t obvious enough. How could he have expected her to understand? It’s not like she was fluent in his body language or habits. At this point, if she needed it spelled out to her, he’d happily do so.

Because, despite her overwhelming and damn near crippling fear she’d just waded through, Kagome still told him the truth. Kagome courageously stood there, attempted to look him in the eyes, and told him she loved him, no matter how scared or nervous she appeared. If he needed to say it back in order for her to understand, he could return the gesture without hesitation.

First, though, he needed to comprehend what was going through that head of hers. He wasn’t going to jump to conclusions. This wasn’t the time to do so. What she was feeling, that look in her eyes, it stemmed from something deep, something that wasn’t quite healed. He needed, desperately needed, to know what happened. He’d promised to keep his mouth shut earlier, but he hadn’t promised how long he’d hold that. She may have meant about that topic entirely, but that was something he couldn’t and wouldn’t agree to. There was no way in hell he was going to let this slide. Eventually, they were going to have to discuss this.

Now was that time.

Inuyasha suddenly stood, filled with a rage that had surfaced as soon as she shakily asked him if he still wanted her to stay, feeling so irate that he could only clench his fists and pace the floor. There was a good fucking chance this originated with her ex. Maybe her father, but his gut told him otherwise. The things he knew about that relationship were vague. Kagome didn’t like to fixate on it, which was reasonable for anyone who’d moved on, and they never really found a good time to open up about nitty gritty details pertaining to failed relationships; they were more focused on one another and their individual lives. He was fuming. What the fuck had that motherfucker done?

He knew they broke up over two years ago. He knew he’d dumped her just before their anniversary. He knew their relationship wasn’t entirely horrible, but much like he and his own ex-girlfriend, they were rarely on the same page. That’s about it, though. He’d heard a thing or two about how she’d realized way after they’d broken up just how toxic their relationship actually was - one of those late night, shower-thought epiphanies - but she never much elaborated. Hell, she talked about it all so rarely, Inuyasha had even forgotten the fucker’s name. He was her ex-boyfriend so that naturally deemed him irrelevant, because Inuyasha was her current boyfriend and that was all that fucking mattered. But, now he wished he remembered because it would make it at least a little easier to track the bitch ass down and punch his lights out.

She’d opened the door, and he needed to know what was on the other side of it. Inuyasha not only craved, but found it a foundational necessity to understand what had her so anxious to tell him how she felt. First, he recognized he needed to calm down. He couldn’t approach this with heightened emotion because it would cause Kagome to feel insecure and unsafe, which he would never allow her to feel around him.

That was hard for him to do, though. To swallow his frustration, push it aside. He felt things passionately, much like Kagome did. For her, for the light he always looked to for a sense of peace and felicity, for the woman he respected and cherished, he would do it. He could do it.

It took a moment, but Inuyasha left his room and headed to the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of water to sip on and an extra one for his girlfriend. The shower had stopped running moments ago, and the hairdryer was now blowing. She was biding time. Kagome, more often than not, let her hair air dry. This was killing him. The fact that she was so afraid, so nervous, the fact that she felt anything but contentment in the face of pure and unbridled emotion. Inuyasha just wanted to burst through the bathroom door and tell her to stop, demand she look him in the eyes and say it again and watch how he would never turn away from her. What could he have possibly said that had her more content with silence?

Content wasn’t what she’d felt at all though, was it? Even after he’d kept his mouth shut, Kagome was still trembling, still incredibly uncomfortable.

He was going to the bottom of this.

But, something in his heart wrenched. Overall, he just hoped with everything he had that she didn’t regret telling him.

There was careful deliberation on where he should wait for her. He’d debated standing outside the bathroom door to guide her back with him, but that would apply a lot of pressure straight from a safe zone. There was always the option to sit on the couch until she emerged, but still, he was worried she’d feel like she was under a spotlight. No matter what, Inuyasha was going to be taking her back into his bedroom. It was cozy and comfortable, and he just wanted to fucking hold her. The best course of action was to let Kagome come to him. When she was ready. No matter how much patience wasn’t his virtue. So, he ambled back through the doorway with both water bottles in hand, placing them on the nightstand as he got himself into more comfortable clothing. He’d never finished changing after dropping his shirt on the floor. He grabbed his grey sweats off the end of the bed and shoved his legs into them after removing his jeans, then fished a black tank top out of his dresser, easily and quickly pulling it over his head.

It wasn’t a bad thing that she’d told him. Kagome should be proud of herself. Over and over again, she’d repeated that in her head, but she couldn’t stop herself from feeling like she’d done something wrong. Maybe she’d put him on the spot and made him uncomfortable. She should have at least given him the space to tell her he wasn’t ready to say it back if that was how he felt. That she would have completely and wholeheartedly understood without fault.

Now she was stuck in an unknown area, her head was foggy, her fingers kept trembling, and her eyes were puffy from crying like a baby in the shower. The goal was to tell him how she felt. It was a step in the right direction. A step toward who she truly was behind the protective walls. From this point on, depending on how Inuyasha was feeling, it might be best to pretend nothing happened. Sweep it under the rug.

Everything was so conflicting, so turbulent, and Kagome could bring herself to do nothing but stare at the bathroom doorknob. Her hair was dry, she was dressed in her borrowed outfit, smelling purely of Inuyasha, and even though he still wanted her to stay, she couldn’t believe anything other than the possibility that she’d ruined everything.

What would happen once she exited the bathroom? Would things be uncomfortable? Would he be laying down in bed, facing the wall away from her, silent? Would he ignore her? Would he say something she was terrified to hear right now? Or, was she trapped in her unhealthy thoughts? Was she preparing a response to something that wasn’t waiting for her outside that door? Was she not giving Inuyasha the opportunity to respond in his own, organic way, expecting all the responses she was trained to anticipate before?

With a deep breath, Kagome reached for the knob, twisting it to exit. The apartment was as quiet as it was when she locked herself inside, the clock in the living room ticking loudly as she slowly sauntered through. Lights were dim, but the bedroom, through the opened door, was inhabited. The lamps shaded the white walls in warm hues, and as she got closer she noticed a very soft hum of music playing through the bluetooth speakers he had set up in there, quiet but still melodic and comforting.

Though her heart was pounding and a jittery sensation within her chest was causing her to tread cautiously, she followed the path into his bedroom, spotting Inuyasha sitting on the edge of his bed with his head in his hands. He was quick to notice her presence, sitting up and glancing at her, and even though she faked a smile with a curious notch of her head, it was clear he saw right through her. How wouldn’t he? If he already didn’t know her so well, it was obvious she wouldn’t go from cripplingly apprehensive before her shower to sweet and happy immediately after.

Inuyasha noticed the pink in her cheeks, the stupidly cute but feigned upturn of her plush lips, the way her deep eyes bounced away from him before coming right back only to repeat the same motions. His Kagome. His sweet, hurting, beautiful Kagome.

With an arch of his brow, the hanyou wagged his finger at her, ushering her over to sit on his lap. She was hesitant at first. She knew what was coming, but still, despite her slight discomfort, he released a small, breathy chuckle so she knew he wasn’t upset with her.

“C’mere.” He requested softly, patting his thighs.

“What?” Kagome returned, unsure.

“I want you. C’mere.”

Slowly, she crossed the floor, accepting her boyfriend’s support as she straddled his lap and got comfortable. An uncontrollable pout formed on her face when he looked into her eyes, she felt it, and humiliation washed over her, causing her to hide her expression between his shoulder and neck.

Inuyasha was patient, making sure she was secure in her seat before his hands traveled over her. At first, he couldn’t help but hug her tight. In this moment, Kagome seemed so fragile and he could already feel her body shaking against him. She knew he was going to talk whether she liked it or not.

Still, he gave her a little more time, relaxing against him, her chest melting on his, her arms wrapped around his shoulders but accepting his full support as his hands rubbed over her back soothingly.

“You want to tell me what happened back there?” He asked, opening back up the topic.

“Did I do it wrong?” Kagome spoke, her voice small.

“I’m not worried about right and wrong here, baby. Can you look at me for a second?”

Carefully, Kagome leaned back, giving him the attention he requested. His large, warm hands cradled her jaw, his thumbs caressing her cheeks, his eye contact firm.

“I never want you to be afraid to tell me something, okay? Especially, how you feel.”

Immediately, Kagome began to crumble. Her cheeks grew hot and her lips twitched downward sadly. Tears too quickly threatened her eyes, and Kagome was hasty to hide her face in his shoulder again.

“I need you to talk to me, Kagome. What’s going on?” He asked, returning to rubbing her back. In the silence as he waited, he picked up the back hem of the large shirt she wore, pushing his hands beneath so he could gently massage her skin. The heat from her, the softness, he craved it right now. “Was it something I did?”

Kagome fervently shook her head against him.

“I’m never going to understand unless you tell me, baby. That wasn’t the normal amount of nervousness you’d expect when saying something like that. So, what’s going on?”

“I just didn’t want you to feel obligated to say it back if you weren’t ready.” Kagome sniffled, hugging him tighter.

“Okay, I get that. And, what else?”

“That’s all.”

“You can’t lie to me.”

“Can we just pretend nothing happened and go back to our happy date night?” She whined playfully.

“Unfortunately, no.” Inuyasha chuckled, catching her small attempt at laughing off her problems. “I can’t do that while you’re crying on me, Kagome.”

“I’m not crying.” She sniffled again.

“Oh? You’re not?”

“Nope. These are just allergies.”

“And, what are you suddenly allergic to?”

“Feelings.” Kagome giggled, though she began crying harder, only because her boyfriend was being sweet and obviously getting through to her. She both hated and loved it at the same time.

Inuyasha kissed her shoulder, holding her a little tighter as his hand slipped higher up her bare back. The curve from her little slouch against him had her spine popping out slightly, and ever so softly, Inuyasha traced his fingers over the bones.

“What were you so afraid of me saying?” He all but whispered.

Mustering up some courage, Kagome leaned back, using one hand to meagerly clear her messy face of tears. She took a few unsteady breaths before speaking, her eyes falling to the hem of the collar of his black top, and she allowed her fingers to distractingly drag along it.

“I didn’t want you to tell me you loved me if you weren’t ready or felt pressured, because I don’t want you to take it back later on.”

The hanyou’s brows furrowed inquisitively and he was unable to bite back the reaction of his head cocking to the side in bemusement.

“What?” He almost hissed. “Why would I do that?”

Kagome didn’t answer, continuing to play with the shirt he wore.

“Kagome, why are you afraid of that happening? Don’t tell me -“ Inuyasha had to tense his breath in his lungs to refrain from letting his upset get the better of him. “Did your ex…?”

She responded with the littlest nod, worrying her bottom lip incessantly. “Multiple times.”

“Multiple times?” He echoed on an exhale, his expression widening. His hands were holding her hips, squeezing as comfortingly as possible, but Inuyasha was struck cold. Not only had someone shattered her, but someone managed to look at this woman on top of him and take back their love on more than one occasion? This girl? How? He’d only had her for half a year and he was scared shitless of losing her, so it didn’t make any fucking sense that someone would just toss her aside like that as if she meant nothing.

Slowly, Kagome curled forward, tucking herself against his shoulder. It was like a safety net. Inuyasha was so warm, he held her perfectly every time she felt emotional and vulnerable. As much as she didn’t want to talk about this, she knew this topic would come up eventually. It was a staple of her by now, something she was clearly conditioned to expect after years of receiving it, and even before she fell in love with the man stroking her back beneath her shirt, she knew this issue would arise. It wasn’t going to be easy or quick to work through, that was a given, and she knew he was ultimately going to need to know some of the toxic occurrences of her previous relationship; things that were done to her and things she’d done, as well. She’d considered it was going to be something he’d want clarity on as soon as she admitted her feelings. It was fair. Being on the other end of things, he deserved to know what she’d been through and why she inadvertently responded the way she had.

It was just hard. It was hard to think about and hard to talk about.

But, if she could power through her fear of admitting her feelings, then she could give him everything else, too. It was another step in the right direction, no matter how unsteady the pathway seemed.

“I told him I loved him first, and he responded by telling me I shouldn’t. He was my first love, so I didn’t really know how to react or what to say to that. It’s not like I could just take it back or agree or something.”

“Right.” Inuyasha almost hummed, listening intently to her explanation as he kissed her shoulder here and there.

“Almost a year later, he told me he was falling in love with me. A few months after that, he took it back and said he wasn’t so sure anymore since we’d been arguing.”

The half demon couldn’t control his reaction to hold Kagome a little tighter. It was like an attempt to protect her from things he knew he couldn’t begin to protect her from. If he could control it, no one would ever speak to her like that. No one would ever hurt her this way. No one would ever be able to apply that pressure to her shoulders, because how could she not feel obligated to be perfect and compliant in order to feel valued and cherished?

“Then, I don’t know how long later, he told me he loved me again. It stayed consistent for a while. He’d tell me periodically, particularly when I did nice things for him or if I said it first. Then, again, he ended up taking it back. I had felt it that time and asked him if he still loved me. He said, ‘I don’t know.’ Followed by,” Kagome’s fingers clutched Inuyasha’s shirt, exhaling tremblingly, though she had been doing so well at keeping it together. “‘Maybe soon I’ll love you again, though.’ So, I idiotically stayed. I held onto that hope. I waited and waited until we got into this stupid fight and he broke up with me the next day. He made sure to emphasize that he didn’t love me. But, said he might in the future, we’d just need to stay friends. ‘You never know what the future stores.’”

God, Inuyasha wanted to kill him.

“There was one night after we finally found separate places, we were packing, getting ready to move out of our shared apartment, and we were talking about old things. He told me he never loved me. And, I just never understood why things went on for so long just because he wasn’t sure. Why would you say it if you didn’t? Why couldn’t he have let me go sooner? What good was I if he didn’t even want me there? I wasn’t strong enough to leave, but he was because he literally hung that over my head for most of the time we were together, threatening me with leaving if I didn’t do something right. I have so many things to work through because of him, so many trauma responses to correct, trust issues that I’m projecting unto you, and he walked away like nothing ever happened.” Kagome cried, once again shaking against Inuyasha.

All he could do was kiss her, hush her soothingly, hold her tight, rub the hot flesh of her back. Let her cry. He understood now. He got it. It was why she struggled to take compliments the first time around. It was why she second-guessed sweet gestures. It was why she assumed everything was sarcastic and insincere. It was why she thought her love for him was problematic. She didn’t want him to say anything because she was scared of the words, “I love you.” They meant nothing to some people, they were used as tools, and so easily, they could be erased. Sad thing was, Inuyasha was sure that even if he said the words right here and now, she wouldn’t even believe him.

“Of course, he’s obviously not the sole reason for why I am the way that I am. Can’t give him credit for everything.” Kagome gave a wet giggle, again laughing through her problems. Her coping mechanisms were all over the place, but it was still cute.

Inuyasha sighed defeatedly, laughing lightly as he rested his head on her shoulder.

“So,” He breathed. “You didn’t want me to say anything because you figured nothing was better than something I could hurt you with.”

Her silence was as good as confirmation.

Inuyasha pulled her in firmer, an arm supporting her low back as he picked her up, rotated their bodies, crawled a little further on the bed, and laid her beneath him on the mattress. He had a knee between her legs, but rested on her side, an elbow propping him up while he used his free hand to gently swipe her tears away.

“It was more because I didn’t want you to feel pressured.” Kagome finally spoke after moments of peaceful silence, taking the opportunity he provided to calm down before continuing. “But, then I started to panic. I felt like this is supposed to be a good thing, right? Not everyone is going to respond the way he does, right? I just wanted to tell you so bad. It’s supposed to be a good thing, but I got trapped in my head thinking history would only repeat itself.”

“Baby, are you sure you were ready to tell me?” Inuyasha inquired, dragging his finger along her temple to clean the tears that followed gravity.

She nodded, her bottom lip quivering. “It’s bad enough that I’m afraid of love. I didn’t want to allow myself to sink and be afraid to love, too. That’s not me. I feel like I’d only be letting him stick around in my mind if I did that, but I just want to love you. I do.” Kagome cried, eyes falling away from him. “I wanted you to know, and I’ve been holding onto it long enough.”

Inuyasha leaned his head down, kissing her shoulder. It wasn’t enough for him. He needed to feel her skin beneath his lips so he pulled the baggy collar away so he could leave a tender and invisible mark on her clavicle.

“How long?” The hanyou breathed.

“A month or so.” She matched his soft tone, trying to steady her lungs and bring herself back to a calm. “The night you went on your business trip.”

“Europe?”

“Mhm.”

“Not too bad. It was the groggy voice, huh?”

Though her eyes were still wet and the hair at the sides of her temples were soaked, her cheeks flushed, Kagome glanced back over to him with a hint of surprise. “How’d you know?”

“Because, I knew I’d get a response from you. Always do.” He smirked, planting sweet kisses against her cheek, and moving up to kiss tears away.

“You know I like that?”

“It’s my job to read you like a book, baby. I take my work very seriously. You’re subtle, but I see things I do that you like. You’ve got little mannerisms that give you away.”

“Like what?”

He hummed a decline. “I’m not giving that secret to you. Let me have this. You know what I will tell you?”

“Hm?”

“Do you promise to hear me out? No interrupting, okay? Just listen to me.”

There was an increase in the tension that climbed through her muscles, and her pout turned weary. Inuyasha took a moment to continue kissing her temple, her cheekbone, his palm finding its way beneath her shirt to softly stroke her tummy. When she relaxed a little, he leaned back to look at her.

“Remember that day Rin took a nap with you? I stayed up that night. Couldn’t sleep. I had you here next to me, and I just couldn’t stop listening to the sound of your breathing. I was scared shitless, but the crazy fucking part was, even though you weren’t awake, having you right here helped keep me calm. It was counterintuitive. I was both scared of you and at peace with you. I wanted you to wake up and do that thing where you tickle the small of my back with your fingers because, god, nothing feels better than that. It was like you held all of me in the palm of your hands, and you could easily drop it in the trash at any given moment. But, it’s you. I knew you wouldn’t. That was my night, though. That was the moment I realized I was in love with you.”

Kagome hardened slightly, and he could literally hear how hard her heart was thumping within her chest. She didn’t smile, didn’t frown, didn’t make much of any expression really, aside from her brows giving a minor, inward twitch.

“That was quite a few months ago. Nothing’s changed. If anything, it’s gotten deeper. I’m so worried one day you’ll walk out those doors and never come back. I don’t want to lose you just as badly as you don’t want to lose me.” He was the one to hide his face this time, tucking it within her neck as he threaded his arms around her back, holding her close. He hadn’t expected her to clutch him in return, but she did. Immediately. Kagome supported him through his own moment of vulnerability, but more importantly, he felt it was a way to communicate her reception. “I don’t care how many times I have to say it until you begin to believe me. I don’t care what I have to do to make you feel secure in our relationship. I’ll do it all. You know I don’t say shit unless I mean it.”

“I believe you.” Kagome whispered, a small hiccup at the tale end that jostled her chest. “That’s the scary part.”

He nodded again, pulling away to gently press his forehead to hers for a moment.

“I get it.” Inuyasha breathed before leaning back to look her in the eyes. “But, one of these days you’ll understand that no matter what happens, I won’t take a damn thing back. You’ll see that I don’t want it back. I feel like my heart’s safer with you, anyway.”

“Stop it.” She pouted, but he knew that was her way of conceding. Even as she cried a little harder and tucked herself into his chest so he couldn’t see it. “You’re being too sweet. Be mean to me again.”

Inuyasha chuckled, raising his hand, “As you wish.” He said, smacking it down against her butt.

The little yelp she released was so sad but adorable as she flinched away from the sting, but it inadvertently brought her to cuddle closer to him. The hanyou laughed, brushing his fingers through her hair and massaging her scalp.

“Can you do something for me?” He asked.

“Hm?” She grumbled into his chest.

“Tell me again. This time look right at me. Don’t look away, don’t fidget, just trust me. That was my first time hearing it. I gotta hear it straight.”

She hadn’t realized Inuyasha hadn’t heard the words before. She didn’t know that. This was big for him too, if not bigger. Was she his first love? Was she the first person he’d ever said that to? Kagome felt a warmth course through her, and even though she was slightly nervous, she didn’t feel unsteady. Not while he held her. Not while his amber eyes were above her, watching her with an emotion she’d never before seen. She came out of hiding with a level of ease she hadn’t felt a moment ago, secure, one of his hands lightly trailing her side beneath her borrowed shirt.

Her fingers had a mind of their own, reaching for his cheek as she softly caressed it, her thumb tenderly rubbing over his bottom lip. “I love you, Inuyasha.”

It was like a sigh of relief left his lungs, and the corners of his mouth inched upward. His eyes were hooded with affection, and he leaned down to kiss her, lingering on her soft lips.

“Your turn.” Kagome whispered as he pulled away, her brown eyes shifting from his eyes to his lips.

It felt incredible that she wanted to hear it now. And, though he knew everything was going to take time until she felt comfortable with the idea that he wouldn’t take a damn thing back, he knew it would take time to work through her trust issues little-by-little, he didn’t mind. Because, she was his and he was hers, and he was all too happy to hold her hand and walk by her side while they figured everything out. He couldn’t fix this for her. He hated that he couldn’t take her pain away. That’s not how it worked, though. He knew this. She knew this. Inuyasha was her partner through everything, and he’d be the best fucking partner he could be.

He grinned with their foreheads pressed together, his hand on her waist gripping tighter as he couldn’t help but chuckle from sheer bliss. “God, I’m so fucking in love with you.”

Kagome smiled, pushing Inuyasha over to roll on top, once more straddling his hips as she gazed down at him. She wanted to burn this image of him in her mind. She never wanted to forget that soft look in his eyes, or the way he reached up and tenderly wiped away any remaining tears that stained her face. He meant it. She believed him. And, she hoped with everything inside of her that he never took it away from her.

She curled down, cuddling into her chest and Inuyasha immediately turned his head to kiss her forehead. He held her close, gently stroking her hair back and basking in her incredibly comforting heat. He loved her. He loved her so goddamn much. His Kagome.

“What do you need right now, baby?”

“Nothing.” She hummed.

“What do you want, then.”

He knew she struggled with that one, but whenever he asked, she did her best to communicate properly. “Touch my butt again.”

Inuyasha laughed huskily, his hands gliding down her back to take a firm and wonderful hold on her ass.

“And, pizza.”

“Oh, see, I’m a step ahead of you on that one. Ordered a couple before you got out of the shower.”

Kagome gave a short half whine - half squeal of happiness as she cuddled in closer and kissed his neck. “Thank you.”

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orbitariums · 4 years

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𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐦 | 𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐮𝐩 | 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐫𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 (𝟏𝟓)

part 14

hey y’all!! missed yall again ♡ hope y’all luvvv this chapter <3

also, thinking of making a new taglist for this soooo just reply to this post or send me an inbox if u wanna stay on this current taglist & lmk if u aren’t on it and want to be added!!

playlist

word count: 7.7k

warnings: age gap, smut

𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐦 | 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐧: 𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐮𝐩 | 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐫𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬

You practically ran up to the edge of the cliff, only slowing down partially because Steve was yelling at you from behind. You couldn’t help it though, you were obsessed with the scenery already, and being able to see it from this point of view was probably the best part of hiking for you every time. You hadn’t gone for a while, not since you’d been home in Cali, and Steve surprised you this morning by telling you to get into some comfortable clothes you could easily move in. Half your wardrobe was that since you were always outside, so the request was easy to fill. You honestly hadn’t even been expecting it when Steve drove all the way to this beautiful woodsy hiking location upstate.

It was quiet, and there weren’t many other hikers on the trail, so it felt like you were alone together. You talked amongst yourselves, the low chatter of your voices complimenting the sounds of various birds flitting by and the crunch of the dirt and grass beneath your sneakers.

You walked at a slow pace, taking it all in. Your time with Steve was coming to a close, and you found yourself wanting to take more and more time to remember each and every single moment as clearly as you could. In your mind, you documented the warm, comforting breeze of the ever present summer on your skin, the low, rich timbre of Steve’s voice. You noted each and every bird sound you heard, promising to come back someday and bird watch at this very same location. Most of all, you made sure to sink into the warmth of Steve’s body bristling against yours every once in a while when you got closer on a narrow part of the path. You were committed to being in the moment and being mindful.

“Slow down, slow down!” Steve called from behind, and you just glanced at him over your shoulder with a well intentioned laugh, then looked back at the sky ahead of you.

You raised your hands up in the air, stretching your palms up to the sky and hooted, cheering about nothing in particular. Every smile, every laugh, every moment you tilted your face up to the vast, azur blue sky and let the sun beam down on your face, was genuine and triumphant.

“It’s fucking beautiful out here, Steve!” you exclaimed, puffing your chest out like you were trying to enclose the crisp, balmy air in your heart.

You were practically hysterical. You belonged in spaces like these, outside where you could share your thoughts with the trees or the water, or not think at all. You always felt your best when you were at the beach or on a hiking trail with your friends, finally able to let go of life’s vice grip on you. You were so much happier these days, in a constant state of healing, and the results were truly showing out.

“I’m glad you like it,” Steve chuckled at your excitement, kicking at the dirt beneath his feet.

“Come on, babe,” you beckoned him over, wanting him to bask in this moment with you.

He trudged over, and when he was close enough to reach out to, you lugged him over as much as you could. Although he was like a stone, his eyes still widened with worry when you nearly toppled over carelessly, despite the fact that you were on the ledge of a cliff.

“Slow down, doll, you’re gonna kill us both,” Steve huffed out a dry laugh, still smiling all the while.

You smiled smugly, glancing over at him with big doll eyes,

“You’d save me, though, I know you can.”

Steve just pulled you under his armpit, keeping you close. In the odd chance that you did fall in this moment, you’d probably be smiling all the way down, forgetting the agony that would be sure to come, all because you were with him. Maybe it was just the fresh air making you a little delusional, but you’d let yourself be delusional just for a moment.

“Let’s make sure no saving will be necessary, hmm?” Steve hummed, and you grinned, nuzzling your face up into his neck.

“Fair enough,” you sighed with a restless smile. “Seriously, thank you for taking me out here. It’s beautiful.”

Beautiful was an understatement. It was funny, you spent so much time outside but you couldn’t ever describe how much nature touched you. You didn’t have the words to describe the way the lush trees at the bottom seemed to sway with the wind, or the way the animals swooped from treetops and went along their merry ways, all while cohabitating peacefully, or the way the landscape looked from all the way up here.

Steve just pulled you closer, and you stood there in complete silence and stillness for a while, just watching as the sky drifted above you. Steve was glad you were the happiest he’d seen you, it seemed as though even though your days together were coming to a close, you were growing happier by the minute. You didn’t think your goodbye would be teary-eyed, because after this wonderful experience, you knew you’d both be sure to see each other again. You weren’t at all in the same place in your lives, that was for sure. You were just getting out of college and making a real life for yourself, meanwhile Steve was out saving the world and doing things you could only dream of doing. You weren’t comparing the two, but it was simply the truth. Neither of you were in the same place, but being here together now made you feel more united than ever. If it took a while to come to a place where you could always be together, then so be it. Right now, you’d just enjoy this moment while it lasted, without haste to plan for the future, because you both had full faith that things would work out.

“It’s funny, this is my first time going hiking. Like, on purpose. I’ve trekked through Sokovia and I’ve had to find my way out of multiple jungles and mazes before they blew up, but I’ve never just enjoyed it like this. On purpose,” Steve said after a while, and you grinned up at him, pleased that you were giving him more and more options to expand his personal hobbies and live outside of his work.

“I get the feeling that even though you’ve seen everything… there’s a lot you haven’t seen,” you noted, and Steve nodded.

That was exactly what he was trying to say. He’d done more than most people could ever dream of doing, he’d escaped danger in the nick of time a thousand times over, he’d saved lives, and yet, all the while, he hadn’t really lived himself. He learned a lot from his job and from the team he felt so grateful to be around on a regular basis, but amidst all the chaos of his daily routine, he’d forgotten to live. Sure, he had movie nights with his team and sometimes went out to eat with them, but there was so much more than that. So much that he hadn’t seen yet. You were showing him that there was, and he was showing you that there was space to trust and love. You shared a mutual core, full of life lessons and valuable exchanges.

“Yeah. Exactly that.”

You squeezed his hip as you started to turn around, facing away from the edge of the cliff and back to the trail, which you were almost finished hiking.

“Come on. Let’s go get something to eat.”

| | |

Steve was leaning against the arch of the open bathroom door, his head cocked in intrigue and admiration as he watched you do your makeup. You were finishing up, putting clear lip gloss on over the brown lip liner you’d used, a classic, 90s combo. You were gazing into the mirror, hardly acknowledging his presence for the purpose of perfecting your look, meanwhile, Steve was enthralled by you, despite the silence. You were also wearing a wine-colored minidress that clung to every inch and curve of your body, accentuating your best assets, which didn’t help with Steve’s staring problem at the moment.

You had your elbows resting on either side of the sink and you were leaning in, smoothing your lips together and puckering them the very minute you finished, adjusting your position in front of the mirror to get a better look at yourself. Finally, you paid Steve some attention, and glanced over at him.

“You ready?” you asked nonchalantly.

“The question is, are you?” Steve asked, raising his eyebrows.

You rolled your eyes playfully in response.

“You should be used to this by now, you know,” you sang, and Steve grinned, wrapping an arm around your bare shoulders as you came close.

“I know, I know. I kind of live for it, it’s so fun watching you do your makeup.”

“Want me to try doing yours someday?” you quipped excitedly.

“I’m not against it,” Steve chuckled.

Tonight you were going to a fancy restaurant for dinner, like, fancy fancy. The kind of fancy that even Steve wasn’t accustomed to. Steve had money, but he wasn’t a very sophisticated guy, he preferred to be more casual. You on the other hand, would probably fit right in. Your regal energy and poised way of carrying yourself made it that much easier. But, you were still fresh out of college, and you weren’t a rich girl by any means. So of course you got excited when you got to get all dolled up to do something very nice.

You and Steve sat at a table near the back, the restaurant lighting dim and dark, a candle flickering between the two of you as the sun set outside. You toyed with the rim of your wine glass, taking careful sips so you didn’t mess your lip gloss up. To Steve’s lament, you would only let him kiss you on the cheek, because you didn’t want to ruin your finely crafted lip gloss.

As nice as it all was, both you and Steve couldn’t help but be reminded of the fact that you’d be leaving soon, and that your days together were coming to a close. You were both levelheaded enough not to get too sad about the fact, but it was admittedly bittersweet. But you decided you’d at least make light of it, and smiled smugly at Steve,

“What are you gonna do when I’m gone, lover boy?”

Steve glanced up at you, that charming smile teasing his lips as his blue eyes gazed into yours.

“Miss you.”

You tilted your head to the side as if you were challenging him,

“You gonna call me every night?”

“Whenever possible,” Steve replied warmly, and you continued,

“Gonna send me flowers still?”

“Of course,” Steve affirmed.

You giggled to yourself, thinking of your last question,

“Are you gonna watch my cam show?”

Steve laughed, shaking his head,

“Who would I be if I didn’t support my girl?”

You grinned fully, reaching over to squeeze Steve’s cheek,

“You’re so precious.”

“Uh,” Steve cleared his throat. “I actually wanted to ask you something.”

“Yeah?” you furrowed your brows, interested in what he had to say.

He seemed nervous, wringing his hands together slightly before placing them on his lap and under the table so you wouldn’t worry about him. He had been thinking about this for a while now, and he’d already talked to you about it, but even after the discussion you had, he’d still been grappling with whether or not he should go through with this. He didn’t want it to feel like he was moving too fast or putting undue pressure on you, because he knew how important it was for you to live in the moment. Because of you he found himself questioning a lot of what he thought was true or moral. You had a good head screwed on your shoulders and you were still much more relaxed than Steve, not as focused on tradition or expectations. But he still found himself wanting to settle things down officially with you.

Looking into your caring eyes, he knew he wasn’t making a mistake, that despite all the trials and tribulations of your relationship together in the past, he’d regret it if he never got to know you. He could’ve never imagined being in this position, but by the look in your eyes, which were glittering and shining with pure, contagious joy whenever you saw him, he knew this wasn’t something he wanted to miss out on. He was about to forget himself and sink into how beautiful you were, as if he didn’t have other things at hand, but he remembered himself at the perfect time.

“I-I’m not always so great with words, so bear with me,” Steve started.

“Steve,” you giggled cheerily. “Spit it out babe, it’s okay.”

Your reassurance seemed to resurrect him and he chuckled, shaking his head and rubbing his temples. Then he looked up again, taking your hand and gazing into your eyes, never ceasing eye contact.

“YN. I really like you, alright? And this is something so new and so odd for the both of us. I mean, I don’t know anyone who’s had what we have and I know a lot of weird people - not that this is weird, but-”

You chuckled, scoffing,

“Well it’s definitely not normal.”

You reached across the table, squeezing Steve’s hand. He grinned, chuckling back and nodded, continuing,

“Yeah. Definitely. And, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking. About labels and what we talked about, and I know you’re not looking to rush into anything too soon because of how you’ve been treated in the past but…” here, Steve almost got emotional, thinking of how special you were to him, unable to believe that you’d been treated so poorly in the past— all he wanted was to show you just how you made him feel. “But I just want to treat you right, and make you happy because well, you make me happy. And it’s… it’s been a long time since I’ve felt this way. And I’m sure that for you and me both, these feelings are rare. And I can treat you the same regardless of whether or not we put a label on it, but, selfishly I want you, fully… all to myself. So, let’s make it official. Will you be my girlfriend, YN?”

Few moments felt as good as this one, and you’d remember this moment for years to come. Few questions rung so pleasant to your ears. And when you heard those words leave Steve’s lips, you knew you had never been more certain that you wanted to be with someone. All relationships started out in the honeymoon phase, but when it came to Steve, you didn’t feel like things would change drastically after this phase. And sure, you were just meeting, in real life, that is. In reality, you had known Steve for a few months, and you’d been getting closer for a long time now. So, you probably would’ve said yes to Steve even if he asked you on the second day you were together.

But your respect for Steve rose way up because he’d actually taken his time, had a conversation with you about it, and made up his mind. The fact that he had put all this thought into it was a testament to Steve’s character, which made you giggle because despite his stoic demeanor he was kind of a nervous wreck, and the strength of the connection you had. But you didn’t even have time to think about how wonderful this all was. All you knew was that you wanted to say yes.

“Yes, I’ll be your girlfriend,” you bit down on your lip, just barely restraining a cheeky smile before you leaned in and kissed him again. The kiss was sweet, interrupted by laughter and your smiles against each others’ lips. “Yes, yes, a thousand times yes.”

You kissed him again and again, you kissed him so much that you barely had any lip gloss on when you managed to stop yourself to catch breath. When you pulled away, Steve had this kind of awestruck look on his face, his lips wet with your lip gloss, wanting more of your lips like you hadn’t just given him your all.

You snickered at the sight of his glossy lips, almost arrogantly noting,

“It’s a good look on you. My lip gloss.”

Steve grinned sheepishly, looking down at the table, relieved. He didn’t really have any reason to be worried, that was just in his nature. His heart had never felt so warm, he’d never felt so satisfied. You’d always been his, but now he had you, truly and officially.

“Were you nervous to ask me this?” you asked, still holding his hand from across the table.

Steve breathed out a laugh,

“God, yeah. I was just hoping you wouldn’t feel pressured. I know how important your mental health journey has been for you, I didn’t want to make it feel like we have to put a label on anything before you’re ready—”

“Steve, if I weren’t ready to be your girlfriend, I probably would’ve stayed my ass at home in Cali,” you chortled, making him blush, because he sort of knew he was overthinking it. “But really though, I wouldn’t be upset even if you didn’t ask me. What we have sort of obliterates the whole boyfriend and girlfriend niche, yeah? It’s kinda like… next level, don’t you think? I mean, how many people can say they’re in our situation? Like, this exact situation. This is like, long distance relationships made epic.”

“Good point,” Steve nodded, agreeing— what you had was probably eons more powerful than the typical “boyfriend and girlfriend” situation.

“It’s just, kind of a plus, you know?” you cocked your head to the side, shrugging. A mischievous, contagious smile spread to your lips. “I get to call myself Captain America’s girlfriend. Bitches write fanfiction about that.”

What? How could anyone blame you for getting cocky about who your official boyfriend was? You didn’t care for competition, but you’d selfishly admit that it was an ego booster to know that you had a man like him all to yourself, and that he wanted you all for him.

“You think you’re the lucky one, look at me. I got you,” Steve’s eyes slowly scanned your face, meeting your eyes again with a wistful smile.

“My girlfriend, YN,” he said out loud. He just wanted to try it out, and it sounded so right to the both of you.

“I like that,” you cooed.

“Me too,” Steve kissed your nose. “Oh, I almost forgot.”

He dug out a slip of paper from his pocket and handed it to you, watching you unravel it.

“Just a little something I drew, meant to give it to you as part of this whole ‘making it official’ ordeal,” he put quotes in the air. “A little gift.”

“Steve,” you pouted. “You’re way too nice to me.”

“Well, you’re my girl. I can’t be mean, can I?” Steve’s lip quirked up in a quizzical smile.

“Mm-mm,” you shook your head. “Not unless I tell you to.”

Steve couldn’t even decipher what you meant by that fast enough because you had squealed, your mouth flinging to your hand.

“Steve, Steve, holy shit. Is this what I think it is?” you sat up, alert, facing him.

“Just a little sketch, it’s not the best but I can—”

“Steve, shut up! You’re literally fuckin’ amazing, are you kidding me? This is… amazing.”

What it was was a drawing. Not just of anything, but of a logo he’d created for you. Specifically, what would soon be the logo for your online clothing brand. It had only just kicked off the ground and you were hopeful for its future. So Steve drawing something like this, no matter how average he thought it was or how little time it took him was something so heartfelt to you. This was something you’d hold on to even more than the flowers, even more than the hotel rooms and private jets, even more than the fancy five star restaurant dinners.

Because if there was anything Steve was proving to you time and time again, it was that he was the right one for you. You wanted to be with someone who would encourage your dreams, give you that push, and acknowledge that you had your own life outside of your relationship. And even though it was something minor at the forefront, when you really got down to it it was something so personal.

“Ahh, I haven’t really drawn for real in quite some time, I just wanted you to have that. You can use it, for your clothing brand if you want,” Steve shrugged, all bashful like usual.

“If I want? I’m literally gonna flaunt this everywhere. Hello, my boyfriend made it? No one will know, but I will, and that’s what matters.” You leaned in, kissing his lips and folding the paper again so you could put it in your pocket. “Thank you, baby. For… literally everything. Thank you.”

“Thank you.”

“Steve, take the thanks. You deserve it. Thank you.”

Steve grinned lazily,

“You’re welcome.”

You just gazed at him, your eyes inadvertently glazing over with tears. You were really sitting in front of the man of your dreams, and this time around you had no doubts about it. The old you would’ve been so resistant to love again. Steve made loving again so easy for you. And you couldn’t forget how you’d pushed yourself to love yourself again, because that made things like this a whole lot easier. But, rather than turn this into another mushy moment, your feelings were so overwhelming that you were feeling things everywhere. Everywhere. And who were you to prohibit your primal needs?

You stood up suddenly, brushing your hands against your dress, which once again caught Steve’s attention as you stood up. His eyes were already raking over you by the time you approached him on his side of the table, outstretching a hand to him, saying nothing until he took it and stood up beside you.

“Come on,” was all you uttered, glancing back at him only once as you led him further to the back of the restaurant, casually navigating your way to the restroom, unconcerned with anything in the moment that didn’t have to do with him.

“Where are we—” you swung the restroom door open and dragged him inside, locking it with finesse, “going…”

Without responding, you furiously pressed your lips against Steve’s, pushing up against him and getting him hard in an instant. Your palms smushed into his cheeks and you moaned into his mouth, delirious with the need for him. Steve was shocked, but not at all against it, he had just never seen you act so impulsively before. And the same could be said for him— once you put your soft lips against his, all common sense seemed to dissipate from his mind. He was just as into it, his hands grazing all around your body like he was looking for something and you were the only way he could find it, squeezing every part of you he could squeeze through this dress. He rocked his hips into you, grunting into your lips as he felt his cock throb against the fabric separating the two of you.

He pulled away, panting, his forehead creased in concentration as he cursed under his breath.

“Fuck. Turn around baby,” he spun you around so you were facing the mirror and your body was up against the sink before you even had the chance to move yourself.

You gasped when you felt cool air against your ass before you even expected it, and you moaned instinctively. Steve left love marks on your ass, gentle and kind, before he made his way to your pussy, on his knees and standing behind you leaned your body against the bathroom sink. You were lucky this was a fancy bathroom that neither of you minded getting down and dirty in— the mirrors had golden frames and the counter was sparkling clean, made out of marble just like the floor which Steve was kneeling on. He inched his face closer to your center and licked a fat strip up your pussy, causing you to moan out carelessly.

He focused on tasting you, closing his eyes and truly enjoying the moment. All that could be heard aside from the movement outside of the restroom were your moans and the sound of his tongue fucking deep into your wet pussy, slick, filthy noises coming from your heat.

“You taste so good, baby,” he moaned against your pussy, his words sending a shock through your body, making you squeeze around his tongue.

You were panting now, your moans short and high pitched, glancing back at him every now and then, then back at your fucked out face in the mirror. You arched your back when he hit a certain spot, twirling his tongue around inside you and kneading your ass with his hands.

“Oh,” you cried out, reaching out behind you and grabbing tufts of his hair, pushing his head and face deeper into your pussy and keeping it there with a strong hold. Steve’s moans were muffled, he was overwhelmed by your sweet scent and the way you were forcing his face down. He only pulled away when he felt your pussy start to pulsate around his tongue, leaving you to whine in dissatisfaction while he stood directly behind you, pressing himself against your ass.

“Steve,” you complained, pouting at him.

“I know, I know. I just— I have to fuck you, is that okay, doll? Can I fuck you?” he practically cooed into your ear from behind, lips tickling against the nape of your neck, then sneaking around to press chaste kisses on your cheek.

You bit down on your lip and nodded vigorously, humming in approval,

“Mm hm.”

“Good girl,” he praised you, making you throb around nothing while he pulled his pants down, his dick springing out of his boxers, and steadied himself at your entrance, kissing all against your neck in the process and leaving love bites that made you yelp out. He grinned against you, whispering in your ear as he trailed his hand along the front of your dress, tugging down so your boobs nearly fell out of the dress.

“You look so pretty tonight, baby. Look at you,” Steve nodded at the mirror in front of you and you whined, trying to buck your hips back into him because you just wanted him inside of you. “Fucking hell. Wearing that dress… your makeup looks perfect.”

He cupped your face, admiring it from behind in the mirror for a second, then he continued,

“My girl.”

He finally slid into you, his cock already throbbing inside of you. You cried out and gasped at the feeling of being stretched out just the way you liked, by the only man you wanted.

“Fuck, Steve!” you moaned his name loudly, immediately starting to rock your ass back into his hips, feeling him all the way inside of you, spreading you out each time you took him completely.

You grabbed at his arm from behind you, his hands steadying on your waist and pushing your ass back down onto him so you could take him all the way each time. You panted, feeling like you were being seared open by his thick cock in the best way imaginable. When you looked at yourself in the mirror, you took notice of how fucked out you looked, the force of Steve’s thrusts making your body bump against the sink, your mouth was open in an o-shape, your vision blurred because of how often your eyes kept rolling back into your head. Steve was focused on his cock disappearing in and out of you, his eyes on your ass, bringing down a broad hand to your ass and grasping your flesh in his hands.

“Steve,” you gasped, looking back at him. You took some time to catch your breath, Steve glancing up at you momentarily. “R-remember when I said you can’t be mean unless I tell you to?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, his hand coming up to stroke the small of your back, just wanting to feel your smooth skin.

“Be mean to me, baby,” you pleaded, giving him those eyes that set him off every time.

That was all it took for Steve to start slamming into you shamelessly, wrecking your pussy each time he pounded into you. He grasped onto your arms suddenly, holding them behind your back with one hand while the other lay to rest just above your ass. You cried out at the painful, pleasing sensation of Steve absolutely pounding you, and he chuckled deviously,

“Shh, doll. Wouldn’t want anyone to hear you screaming for me. Or would you?”

Pursing your lips forcefully to keep from making any noise, you shook your head strongly, but you couldn’t help the whimper that escaped from the back of your throat when he hit your g-spot. Steve shook his head, looking up at himself in the mirror,

“Mm-mm, wouldn’t want that.”

Trying desperately to keep quiet, you strained your neck to try and look back at him and what he was doing. But he shook his head, leaning down to grab your face and force your head the other way.

“Don’t look at me,” he commanded, his voice dark and deep. “Look at yourself.”

You looked up, orgasmic tears forming in your eyes as you did so, catching sight of yourself in the mirror getting fucked to the heavens, arms stretched behind your back, breasts bouncing each time Steve fucked into you. The look on Steve’s face was beyond you— he was almost sneering at the sight of the two of you in the mirror, the smug look on his face intensifying each time you had to stifle a moan or stop yourself from screaming his name. You’d never seen him like this before, and you were so glad you’d pulled it out of him in the little amount of time you had left together.

“Fuck,” Steve groaned when you felt you squeeze around him, his voice becoming breathier and lower, almost accusatory of your pleasure, “you like this, don’t you?”

You whimpered in response, nodding your head violently, and Steve grunted, slamming his hips up into you and bringing a hand down to play with your clit as if praising your response. His own voice became more and more unhinged, his thrusts growing sloppier and less focused, his eyes zeroing in on your expression in the mirror,

“You love getting fucked like this, don’t you? Wh-where anyone could hear… f-fuck, doll, I can feel you squeezing my fu… fucking cock. Come for me, YN.”

That was all it took, an ear splitting moan falling from your lips as you practically convulsed, coming on Steve’s cock, not bothering to stop rocking your hips back. Soon after you came, Steve’s dirty talk became nothing more than unintelligible blabbering, and he came hard inside of you. Breathing deeply, he slid lazily in and out of you just a few more times, fucking all his cum back into you. He pulled out, and you fell against the sink with a sigh. You both cleaned up, and Steve smiled at you before you both left the restroom.

“Thank you,” you said stupidly, still delirious from how hard he’d fucked you.

Steve chuckled, shaking his head playfully and putting an arm around you to stabilize you,

“No problem. Come on, let’s pay and get you home.”

That night, you slept better than ever, your boyfriend Steve holding you in his arms.

| | |

Once you woke up the next day, Steve decided to take you to this nice brunch place, flipping on his hat and glasses since it was a little crowded, but not anything too worrisome. Besides, you had made it this far without Steve being recognized, and you realized that in New York, nobody was really paying attention to anyone.

Last night had been fantastic, in so many ways. You and Steve had made it far enough to actually become official, to call each other boyfriend and girlfriend. And although you knew the distance between you would be hard to deal with at times, you knew Steve would find a way to make it work. He never had you second guessing or doubting important decisions, because you knew that out of anyone you’d ever been romantically involved with, he had his shit together the most. He was actually focused on treating you well, and he had all the resources and the common sense to do just that. So, the distance didn’t quite scare you, in fact, it was probably less of an issue for you two than other long distance couples. Hell, you’d made it far enough without actually meeting.

As per usual, Steve opened your car door, then held your hand all the way inside the restaurant. You’d eat and then go home and find some random hobby to do with each other, like board games or finally finishing the Harry Potter movies, or just staying in and cuddling the whole night. You got seated at a table in the back and talked about nothing in particular while you waited for the waiter to come around.

You had your hand on top of Steve’s, squeezing it absentmindedly while you scrolled through your phone, reading text messages from your friends back at home. You knew Steve wasn’t a huge fan of your phone, but it wasn’t a habit that you pulled it out while you were meant to be hanging out together. Besides, you had a whole digital life that you had to keep up with for your own sake, consisting of your cam career and your online shop. It’d be silly if you tried to disconnect completely.

“Hi, good to see you today, my name is Richard, I’ll be serving you today! Can I get you guys started with some drinks?” Richard asked, cupping his hands together with an expectant smile.

“Waters for the both of us,” Steve nodded, and you added on, glancing at the waiter quickly.

“Lemonade for me too, please,” you added on.

“Awesome, I’ll be right…” Richard the waiter trailed off and you both glanced up at him, but he had paused, staring at Steve, his face contorted in slight confusion. Steve offered him a small, almost pitying smile, and you couldn’t help but huff, humored. Richard cocked his head and tapped his pen against his notepad before shaking his head slightly, snapping out of it. “Sorry, it’s just… you look so familiar.”

You and Steve exchanged a glance, both of your eyes whipping to meet each other, before you broke away and looked back at Richard. You were both slightly unnerved by the comment. In a way, it was so nonchalant, a casual remark. But Steve wasn’t just any other guy who you’d say that to. Chances were, this guy was about to recognize just who Steve was. You almost wanted to cover for him, but you feared that doing that would make things too obvious. You’d let Steve handle this, although you could see the hint of nerves in the smile that appeared on his face as he shrugged quite convincingly,

“I couldn’t tell you why, honestly.”

Richard chuckled, huffing,

“It’s just, I swear I’ve seen you before, are you like— have you come here before?”

Steve just laughed, but you could sense his discomfort, and you squeezed his hand a little harder,

“Sometimes. You might’ve seen me.”

Richard nodded with a decided hum, then shrugged,

“Yeah, that’s probably it.”

Steve’s shoulders visibly slumped in relief, and you smiled quietly.

“Well, I’ll be right back with those drinks,” Richard, turning around.

Once he was completely out of sight, Steve sighed heavily, leaning in to you at the table.

“I think we should go,” was all he said, and you frowned slightly,

“We just got here…”

“I know, but that guy… listen, we haven’t paid for anything. Let’s just go. I’ll make it up to you, I promise. I just don’t think—”

“Okay,” you cut him off, smiling calmly.

Things were going so well, you didn’t want Steve to feel like you wouldn’t listen to him when it was important. You also didn’t want him to worry too much. You could see that he was trying to refrain from sounding as nervous as he was because he didn’t want to upset you, so, out of respect, you decided you wouldn’t push him any further. This was the first time either of you had to worry that someone had noticed Steve, and although it could truly just be a fluke totally unrelated to his actual identity, neither of you wanted to take that risk. So, you just agreed with him.

Steve got up gingerly, and nodded at you to do the same.

“Come on,” Steve said, lacing his fingers between yours, a sense of relief rushing through you.

For a moment there, you feared that his anxiety might get the best of him and that he wouldn’t pay any attention to you, but he had proved you wrong. He gave your hand a squeeze as the two of you ducked out of the restaurant as nonchalantly as you could. When you were finally outside on the sidewalk, you both walked back to Steve’s car, not looking back.

The car ride home was silent other than the music Steve put on to distract himself from his thoughts. He truly was trying to remain stable rather than let his nerves get the best of him. He hadn’t quite let his guard down, but he also didn’t feel as if he’d be recognized. He was getting too comfortable— no, he was just doing what was right, taking you out and taking care of you. He wouldn’t let himself sink into blaming himself or anyone else.

You were both far past that, far from fear and holding yourselves back from what you truly wanted, which was to be together and feel like you could do that without inhibitions. You both understood the conditions under which you’d be meeting in person, and you understood that Steve needed to keep this under wraps for the sake of privacy and safety. You had grown enough not to let these conditions hinder you, you wouldn’t start now just because of a little hiccup.

“Steve,” came your voice, distracting him from the loop of thoughts replaying in his brain as you both walked into the apartment.

“Hm?” he turned to face you, and you grabbed his hand gently, a small, reassuring smile on your lips.

You led him to the living room couch and you both sat down, facing each other.

“Let’s talk about it, okay? You’ll feel better if you just talk to me about it instead of letting it bother you in silence,” you directed, and he took in a deep breath before sitting back and nodding understandingly.

You wanted to at least solve the problem before it spiraled into a bigger one, and if it meant you had to sit on the couch and talk about it, then so be it. You’d rather a hard discussion than any issues.

“It’s not that I’m paranoid, it’s just… I don’t want anything to be ruined because of me. You know, I’ve been enforcing all these rules and… I just care about our privacy and safety the most.”

“You do know that I’d never blame you for anything, right? You do know that?” you asked him, tilting your head as you waited for him to make eye contact with you and answer you honestly.

He did eventually, nodding and cracking a small grin,

“I know. I… I don’t want it to seem like one small thing would ruin my mood, I don’t want you to think I’m as scared as I used to be.”

“I don’t think you are though, Stevie,” you said softly as you stroked his cheek, your long acrylic nails gently running along his skin.

He seemed to calm down immediately from your touch, his facial expression softening, but you could tell he was still upset with himself. You grinned to yourself. You liked being able to make Steve feel better with just a trivial touch. You knew your presence actually meant something to him, and that sentiment meant everything to you. You knew he just wanted to keep you safe, especially considering the circumstances of your relationship, but you didn’t want him getting too worked up. You could handle yourself and Steve knew that, but having him next to you in situations like this was just a plus— after all, there was a reason why the guy only approached you once he’d seen Steve had left.

“It’s okay, Steve. Really. I get it, it’s unexpected and worrisome. Neither of us really were prepared for that. I think you handled it amazingly. Don’t think this diminishes all the progress we made, alright?” you let your hand slip down to his, and gave it a squeeze. “Because it doesn’t. Okay?”

“Okay,” Steve chuckled, and you could tell by the smile in his laugh that he was resigning.

He was truly enjoying spending time with you like a normal couple would. He wasn’t peeking over his shoulder, he was just being careful. But he knew the risks he was taking. And he knew he’d just have to roll with the punches, that he couldn’t let one moment change everything for the worse. You were practically reading Steve’s mind, because based on his reaction, you knew exactly how he felt, and you already had all the words you’d need to console him.

You held his hand tight, as if to remind him that he needn’t be so hard on himself or be afraid that you doubted him in any way. As if to remind him you weren’t going anywhere. He couldn’t deny that your touch made a considerable impact on his mood, as well as your presence. Just your presence seemed to radiate whatever he needed in the moment, and at that moment, it was calm.

“Don’t feel worried that you made the wrong decision by bringing us here today. I had the best time. This small inconvenience doesn’t fuck up the fact that I just had an amazing day with you, okay?”

Steve nodded slowly, though you could tell it took a lot for him to take the blame off himself. You weren’t sure that he was fully convinced, but at least he seemed a little less out of it.

“I’m glad you understand, YN. But I have to take responsibility. I’m not going to become all paranoid again, but I just think it’d be best to lay low for a minute and recover. I really do want to show you everything, I just-”

“Steve, calm down,” you tittered, shaking your head. “I don’t need to see everything. I came here to see you, not tour New York. As long as I’m with you, I don’t care. We could go out every day or we could stay in. I know you’d make the effort either way. Besides, we only have so much time left together, and I feel like you’ve shown me the entire world.”

It was true— Steve had proven to you that he cared time and time again, whether it was through flying you out or taking you out without you having to ask. It was the little things. The way he poured just the right amount of sugar in your coffee in the morning, helped you zip up your dresses in the morning, let you blast your music in the car. He seemed to think he needed to prove himself, and you wanted to show him that he had already done that, and more.

Steve chuckled, and you squeezed his thigh, kissing his cheek. He turned to face you, leaning in to kiss you on the lips this time. You shifted closer to him, leaning in until you were close enough to rest your palms on his cheek, climbing into his lap and deepening the kiss. Slow, passionate, and quiet, you sat there kissing each other. You kissed each other like you were trying to savor the taste of one another’s lips, like you were trying to remember it for the rest of your lives. You kissed like you were sharing secrets.

It was only a matter of time before you were taking off your shirt and kissing him harder, grinding against him and riding him slow on the couch in the bright daylight. You were gentle and slow, it was more like you were making love than just fucking. And by the time you were done, passed out and sweaty on the couch hours later, all your worries had been fucked away.

| | |

Tomorrow was your last day with Steve. You’d be flying back home to California the next day, and saying goodbye. But not just yet. You had all the time in the world to say goodbye, but today you were both devoted to spending a beautiful, eventful day together. Steve had stuff planned for you, and you had stuff planned for Steve. You had mutually agreed to skip all the crying and pouting, and just be happy for the experience instead. So when you woke up that morning next to Steve, who was still asleep, you were giddy to start the day.

Absentmindedly, you picked up your phone on the end table beside you. It was positively buzzing with notifications, and you were a bit thrown off by the sheer amount of them. You furrowed your eyebrows as you skimmed through the notifications from the bottom to the top— you had a bunch of missed calls from your parents, more Snapchat notifications on your regular snap than ever, and a plethora of texts.

You wondered if something had happened, chewing slightly on your bottom lip. Was everything okay at home? Did you post something meant for your cam site on your Instagram? A hundred various circumstances fled through your mind, but none of the situations you had made up could’ve prepared you for when you opened a text from Aaliyah with a picture attached. It read:

- Attachment: 1 image

- BITCH, THIS IS LITERALLY YOU!!!

#girls on film #steve rogers #steve rogers fic #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers smut #smut #marvel #marvel smut #marvel fic #marvel imagine #x reader #reader insert #captain america #captain america x reader #captain america smut #captain america fic #captain america imagine

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vesperlionheart · 4 years

Note

Mamihlapinatapei - The look between two people in which each loves the other but is too afraid to make the first move. For KisaSaku. :D

KisaSaku & a belated happy birthday for @darth-salem-emperor-of-earth!

(Sort of a companion fix to This One)

‘In matters of inheritance in the land of Kirigkure, the country is old and small enough to cultivate its leftover practices from the oldest days, when Kiri citizens had to fight tooth and nail to protect what was once only a small fishing inlet. Their monarchy equivalent is selected from the previous ruler and approved by a majority vote from the three departments.’

“It shouldn’t count until an official hearing is held to conclude such matters,” Sakura grumbled to mostly herself. Mei was the least sympathetic out of all her supporters when it came to Sakura’s mood and opinions on her stupid country inheritance.

When Mei heard Sakura’s grumbles she only giggled and added another ‘grievance’ scroll to the ever increasing pyramid of incoming missives that would need to be addressed by the end of the day. “Honestly, you have no one else to blame but yourself. What did you expect would happen when you arrived on our borders with all of Tsunade’s tutelage and the copy nin’s keen sense for seeing underneath the underneath? You thought we’d let you go?”

Speaking of Kakashi made Sakura remember the old man’s poor advice: “Just go and check them out. Get in a few fights, drink a little and show them how terrible of a leader you would really be.”

That had worked out terribly.

While Sakura was legally considered a citizen of Kiri, she had grow up outside its boarders and adapted to the culture of the Fire Country where it mattered to have manners with strangers. Her strategy had been to walk in with a buzz and a beer in hand, provoke a shop keep, fight a swordsman-a legendary swordsman-and curse her way out of town. Everything had been going tremendously well, except actually it hadn’t. Kiri was wet in more ways than one and Sakura had unwittingly impressed more than just a few curious eyes with her tolerance of the local booze. Shit talking was seen as a greeting amongst Kiri locals, and fighting might as well have been synonymous with hugging.

“They’ll kick you out soon enough and you’ll be back home before you know it.”

For not the first time, Sakura lamented Kakashi’s backhanded advice. When she berated him about it later on he only congratulated her on the revitalized economy, the updated hospitals, and all her efforts towards dismantling the caste system. Sakura’s protest that she never meant to do any of that fell on deaf ears.

The trial month was nearly over and plans had already been made to install her as their Mizukage, a position that would put her on par with her one time teacher, the Hokage in the Land of Fire. There was a lot of pomp and ceremony the elders were caught up in that pushed back the actual initiation-but the decision had been made and Sakura’s will was not enough to reject the concessions of the Trident-or the three seats of the Mizukage’s cabinet.

Mei made up the executive branch of the Trident, while the seven swordsmen made up the military branch. Yagura was the head of Economics and the mouthpiece of the Elders who weighed tradition against advancement. Sakura’s job would be to balance all three of their voices and carry the responsibility of any decision they came up with. Only a 3 to 1 vote could overrule a Mizuekage’s executive orders.

“Have you chosen your Second Shadow, yet?” Mei asked.

“I’m actually hoping that if I don’t that this whole party thing can get called off,” Sakura sassed back to Mei, already half finished with the next scroll and all but made up on her finial verdict for the request it presented.

“Have you looked at my boy?”

“Chōjūrō is a sweet kid and will make a fine swordsman one day,” Sakura answered diplomatically.

“But…?”

Sakura looked up and glared. “He’s as shy as an Angel Fish and he still somehow came up with the idea, completely on his own with no help from anyone, to wait for me in my hotel room in a silk robe and slippers and nothing else.” Sakura’s tone was heavy with sarcasm. “I don’t take kindly to attempts of coercion.”

“The kid just wanted your favor and you would hold that against him?” Mei playfully teased.

“I didn’t appreciate it, Mei. Don’t bully your boy into my bed.”

Mei rolled her eyes and picked through the finished missives Sakura had set to the side. “He needed the encouragement. He wouldn’t have done it, even though he wanted to, without some help.”

“I’m not like you, I don’t enjoy robbing the cradle.”

Mei snorted. “Okay then, babe, tell auntie what your type is?”

Sakura paused and looked up over her next scroll. “Why?”

“Can’t you just believe I’m curious? Why do you have to sound so suspicious of every one of my questions? I’m honestly just curious.”

Sakura’s expression turned blank but Mei didn’t seem to care. “Sure, and my answer would have nothing to do with an attempt by you and the elders to set me up with a nice local boy who will convince me to stay. Suuuuure.”

“So if you’re not interested in our little prince, what abut the naughty type. Suigetsu doesn’t have anyone right now.”

“I thought you were trying to convince me to stay, not scare me off. That starfish can’t keep a relationship on lock for more than a month for a reason, and it isn’t the fault of any of his partners.”

“So the naughty type is a turn off. What about the daddy type?”

Sakura’s face made an expression of horror. “Gross.”

“Not literally a daddy, don’t look at me like that. You might be surprised so don’t knock it till you try it. I’ll put that down as a ‘maybe’ for now.”

“Please don’t.”

There was a knock on the door and Sakura shouted out for them to enter before Mei could even turn around. A half second later Sakura realized her mistake when she saw Mei’s gloating face. The office already felt like it was Sakura’s.

Damn.

“What?” Sakura barked a bit rudely when Yagura stopped in front of her desk.

“There’s an issue with deployment.”

“Why are you telling me this? Aren’t Kisame and Zabuza usually the ones who tell me what’s shit with their nin?” Sakura dropped her scroll and leaned back in her seat before waving for him to continue. “What is it?”

If Yagura was bothered by her rude address he didn’t let it show on his face and he never let it carry over into their conversations outside of work. “More of the Kaguya raiders are making issues for the settlements but we don’t have the resources to send out anyone to deal with it. Kisame and Zabuza are both off on missions you approved.”

“This really requires an S ranked response?” Sakura asked, knowing there were few others who could do what Kisame and Zabuza did. If Yagura was asking for either of them he deemed the threat S ranked.

“I’ve already written up the details of the response we’d need.” Yagura produced a thinner scroll and Sakura took it as it passed over her desk.

“If we didn’t have one of the swordsmen on this we’d need at least two dozen nin and we just don’t have those kind of numbers right now.”

“What’s the best we can do?” Sakura asked while rolling back in her chair to check the chart on the wall with a dozen different secret symbols that helped keep her up to date on the military numbers. It showed how many nin of different rank were deployed, how many were wounded, how many were undercover, and how many were available for deployment. It still took Sakura a minute to decipher everything on the chart but she would have it like a reflex by the end of the month.

“Eight.”

Sakura made a face. Eight was a really low number and it was her fault they were in this situation in the first place. She had gambled and played the number game with her nin. Kiri always needed a coalition of soldiers to defend it in case of invasion, and so even if there were over two dozen shinobi at home, she couldn’t touch those.

“Kisame is due back this afternoon, how time sensitive is this issue?”

“It depends on how much the lives of these colonists matter. They’re notorious for skirting on tax payments and regularly sell their produce to rival groups before our citizens.”

“But they are our citizens,” Sakura clarified. They lived outside the walls of Kiri and were largely bitter old marsh farmers and fishermen, but they were culturally more Kiri than Sakura.

“It would be a shame to loose their assets,” Yagura honestly answered. “The Kaguya clan would only grow emboldened if they took over the rest of this territory for themselves.”

Sakura was already standing, pulling off her robes. “Mei, tell Kisame to head over to the settlements as soon as he gets here, even if he’s on fumes. Just the sight of his big blue mug will send some of them running.”

“What are you doing?” Mei asked, eyes wide.

“I’m dealing with this. I still have my rank from Konoha. I should be sufficient with these four,” Sakura said while showing off the mission scroll with her name and four others filled in. “I’ll let them know personally. Yagura will-”

“I understand. I’ll stand in until you’re back.”

“You can’t leave, you’re our Mizukage,” Mei agrued. “That’s against customs. If you fall-”

“I’m not Mizukage yet and you still can’t tell me what to do,” Sakura warned before stalking out of the office with hands itching for a fight.

Hours later her Kabutowari was soaked with blood on both ends, both the hammer and the axe head had been fed enough blood and savagery to sate its appetite for carnage. Sakura was proud of their success and how cheep it cost. Not a single soul on her unit had been seriously wounded or lost and that was quite an accomplishment considering the Kaguya attacked in bands of eight to twelve.

“It’s cause we got to fight with our Mizuekage that our moral was so high,” old man Jinin cheered, looking ready for a stiff drink and maybe an audience who could listen to his tall tales and elaborations on the day’s battle.

Haku came up beside Sakura and touched her elbow to get her attention and she leaned in while he whispered the status of the nin’s health along with the injury inventory. It was a new step Sakura wanted utilized when units emerged from battle. If hospital records could be updated with a complete list of all injuries-including those treated and healed on the battlefield- it would help in future diagnostics.

Haku had helped develop the program and sell it to the other medic trained min. He had been invaluable in helping roll out new changes and on the battlefield his skill set had complemented her fighting style well, since he was more of a long range fighter while Sakura liked to deal damage up close.

“We’re good to go then,” Sakura sighed. “I’m tired. Someone treat me to hot saké once we’re back,” she playfully whined only to get a roar from the men and women on her team.

Haku kept close to her side and walked with her until they got to the natural mist. Sakura gave the signal and the rest of her team blurred into the fog and took off like birds in a dive, unseen and deadly.

“You wanted to ask me something?” Haku queried.

Sakura was about to say yes but something else caught her eye and she pat Haku’s back in dismissal. “It can wait until after we’re back. I need to catch Kisame up but I’ll see you at the Drunken Whaler.”

Haku turned and saw Kisame emerging from he fog with the blood and grime from his last fight still stuck to his uniform. The two locked eyes and Haku nodded first before taking off.

“So, are you slipping for any particular reason or are you just getting old?” Sakura teased while approaching Kisame.

“Hey, no jokes about my age when my boss orders me to pull a double shift. Slave driver actually expected me to do some good here. Shows you what she knows.”

“Maybe she just wanted you to see what she could do, ever consider that?” Sakura teased back, shouldering her Kabutowar’s axe end on her shoulder while she carried the hammer half with an idle swing in her left hand. The weight never bothered her but she wondered how her weapon would react to a new pair of hands.

“How willing are you listen to your bad ass boss?” Sakura asked.

“You mean my hard ass boss?” Kisame teased back. “Dunno, it depends on the request. Does it involve drinking?”

“Eventually all decisions and requests involve drinking, but not yet. We can get sloshed at the Drunken Whaler with the rest of them but before we get that far…” Sakura rolled the axe head off her shoulder and held it out. “Wanna trade?”

Kisame whistled low and reached up to rub at some of the blood on his chin with the heel of his hand. The twilight was creeping in but the clouds were heavy and low so everything shaded in tones of gray and diluted yellow. Sakura saw a fragment of that sunken gold color in Kisame’s shark eyes when he looked at her weapon, but she wished he’d been looking at her.

He reached over his shoulder and rolled Samehada off his back, letting the bandages drop. The trade off was as natural as any other tradeoff would be between the swordsmen. If the seats hadn’t been filled Sakura might have replaced Haku as a swordsman, since she had a legendary blade and he didn’t. If she had been a swordsman she might have had the chance to do this earlier and with more than just Zabuza’s Kubikiribōchō, but she wasn’t a swordsman and this wasn’t a guaranteed thing.

“Thank you,” Sakura said before Kabutowari finished leaving her hand.

“Careful with him, Samehada can-oh, ya know, never mind. He’s a bitch that’s roll over for anyone with tasty chakra, I shouldn’t have worried for ya,” he chuckled while watching the handoff.

With issue, Sakura held the massive blade level and admired its scale pattern in the gray twilight. There was a delightful shiver as it sucked on her chakra and swallowed it down like a drunk with fine wine. Sakura could feel it purr not unlike how Kabutowari would in her mind once they were linked.

“Let’s see how you like this,” Sakura cooed before swinging Kisame’s blade against the wind and stepping into the dance she had first learned for Kabutowari with minor adjustments since she was wilding Samehada in one hand. She felt it tense and almost cut at her hand but settled down as it realized what she was playing at.

Samehada cut into the fog and then shaved it down into a finer mist before wrapping it up around Sakura the way the first swordsmen would, back in the old days when chakra was still too wild to name and gods dared to walk amongst the children of men.

Through the mist and over her shoulder Sakura could see Kisame have fun on his own, dancing through the same steps with her two handed Kabutowari, showing mastery of the finer points in spite of his bulk. At first glance Kabutowari seemed too heavy and burly a weapon to expect any delicacy with, but if one wanted to unlock it’s full potential they would have to know more than just the brutal steps that wrought the most damage, they would need to know how to dance and make both the axe and hammer sing.

She watched Kisame twist through her steps like a ghost of her old master’s memory and watched, transfixed, as he let go of the axe side to swing around and snap back with perfect timing.

“Jealous?” the voice in her mind purred. Samehada helped himself to a drop more of her chakra as she paused in her steps.

“No, I know Kabutowari is my blade and he’ll return to me in time. There’s no reason to be jealous of your master for handling my blade so well.”

“Didn’t mean Kabutowari,” Samehada chuckled so deeply it made Sakura’s mind feel like a cavern with no end. A half second later she realized what Kisame’s blame meant and she giggled, almost manic at the implication.

“No,” she hissed through his stifled giggle. “No way, not you too. Leave me alone and let me have my fun.”

“Don’t see a reason you can’t have it both ways,” Samehada teased, poking at her palm but doing no real damage.

It wouldn’t hurt her if she could hear its voice and give him her chakra to sip on, but even if tried she’d be able to heal such a modest attack. There wasn’t any real danger to her from Samehada, but she felt unbalanced by his words enough to step out of the old steps and swing the monster blade down against the earth with a surge of chakra that split the earth.

She heard his excited cheer and delighted cackle as he served as the conduit to her legendary chakra release. Sounding almost drunk it asked for her to do that again but Kisame was already laughing at her and that was the only sound she could pay attention to.

“I think I’ve had enough fun for one night,” Sakura said with a tired laugh, hopping over to Kisame’s side with his sword. The exchange was easier this time but before Kisame could press Kabutowari into her hand their fingers touched enough for Sakura to feel where all his blisters had hardened into callouses. Even down the sides of his fingers she could feel the evidence of his devotion to the blade and she wondered, wickedly, what it would feel like to be handled by hands like that.

“Naughty,” Samehada purred to her before their link was severed. Sakura felt her face roar with heat and embarrassment, which she tried to play off by jumping back with Kabutowari and a nervous chuckle. Her weapon purred in confusion and almost understood but Sakura sealed him away into one of her pocket dimension before he could scream out the truth like an echo in her mind.

Damn, dirty thoughts-this was all Mei’s fault for planting the seeds in the first place.

Sakura ran her hands through the fog and then combed them through hair, grateful for the cool the almost night allowed. She knew she didn’t have a ‘pretty’ blush like some other girls. She went beat red and it was almost impossible to hide.

“We should head back, we’ve held back long enough the others might get worried. Plus, I wasn’t exactly quiet just now,” Sakura said.

“Aww boss, don’t make this old man run all the way back after I ran all the way out here only to be late,” Kisame playfully whined.

“What, you want to walk back. That’ll take forever,” Sakura said.

“Not for the whole while, but we can run off later. Can’t we just take it easy for a little while?” he asked.

Only because he asked Sakura agreed.

After a minute Kisame spoke up. “So the word going around is that you haven’t picked a second yet. Don’t you have any ideas or is no one willing to take on the load? You’re kinda a slavedriver.”

“I’m still thinking about it.”

“What are you thinking about.”

Sakura made a face, not knowing if he was teasing or being serious with his question. “It’s so different compared to Leaf, I mean this second almost feels like a marriage partner according to Mei, and it’s kinda serious enough that the thought process is similar. You pick someone and then they’re with you the whole time, nearly day and night, and that’s similar to how Shizune was for Tsunade, but…I don’t know, the cultures are different.”

“Is that such a bad thing?” Kisame chuckled. “When Kiri loses a kage it’s tits up and everything goes to shit real quick-we know because we’ve seen it more than any of the other hidden villages. More assignations mean more hard lessons learned.”

“But does it have to be one person? Tsunade had ANBU who were rotated out all the time.”

“Yeah but that’s such a shit idea here. If I wanted to kill the Hokage I’d just impersonate an ANBU and wait in rotation until I was alone with-ah, don’t give me that face, I’m just saying hypothetical things.”

“It’s not so easy to infiltrate ANBU.”

“You say that like we haven’t ever done that,” Kisame snorted and then when he saw Sakura’s face he laughed. “Nothing so bad, boss, nothing so bad! You’ll see for yourself when you get access after inauguration, but those ain’t your people no more. You are ours.”

There were a few too many things making Sakura’s gut church with complicated feelings. What Kisame said about belonging to Kiri was right and it hurt, not because she hated being accepted, but because of what it meant for her ties to everyone back home-back in Konoha. Tsunade and Kakashi were her teachers but they couldn’t call her their disciple anymore. For the sake of the future of their foreign policy, Sakura had watched as the steps were taken to cut her off from the village hidden in the leaves until there was only one place she could run to. It wasn’t a vicious thing and there was nothing personal about it. Sakura actually understood why they did what they did-changing out the codes and locking her out of accessing ANBU updates.

Kiri was supposed to be her home now…her village.

“Boss?”

“You know you can call me by my name when it’s just us,” Sakura said instead, trying to sound annoyed so he didn’t misunderstand the meaning of her words and think she wanted him to speak to her familiarly. “Boss makes me feel like an old lady.”

The other feelings that made her gut churn came from the last thing he said to her. “You are ours.” Someone once said the people in Kiri were a people who knew loss to well to share decently in the future, thus they were a possessive people who coveted many things.

“Then Haruno kun-”

“Haruno kun?” Sakura sputtered. “What are you my uncle? No-ugh, you’re-oh man I had a teacher who would call me Haruno kun in school back when we were in the academy. You’re banned from the ‘-kun,’ if you’re gonna tack something on at least make it sound cute.”

“Sakura chan?” Kisame playfully called out, pitching his voice high and squeaking out the title.

“Never mind, I take it back, just Haruno or just Sakura, but nothing else. Gosh, I thought someone said that in Kiri they didn’t have manners or shit. Just call me whatever, I don’t care,” Sakura said even though she cared.

“Then Haruno, who do you think would be a good candidate for second. You’ll pick from the swordsmen right? Where else would you go?”

“Mei wanted me to go with her boy Chōjūrō but can you see that working out?”

“That jellyfish?” Kisame hooted. “He’s as shy as an Angel Fish. You’d eat him alive for breakfast.”

“I live to entertain,” Sakura mocked with a silly bow. “But you’ve got a point about pulling from the swordsmen. What would that do to your seats? Would you replace whoever left or take in someone new?”

“Maybe Chōjūrō,” Kisame joked.

“He’s an excellent fighter, he just doesn’t have a future in politics,” Sakura defended. “I could see him growing into that role.”

Kisame watched Sakura a half minute longer before saying anything new. The sun was half sunk into the horizon and all the mist seemed to choke on dying colors as they waded through the distortion.

“You have someone in mind, don’t you?”

“I have ideas but I don’t want to have ideas since I don’t like this whole set up. If it was up to me and the elders didn’t insist on tradition, I’d just have the Seven of you on rotation as my guard.”

Kisame made a thoughtful sound. “That could work as a back up, but you know how those old tradition fogies are.”

Sakura rubbed at her neck and looked ahead. “I need a drink. Race you back?”

“Ah, but I’m all tired from-” Kisame never finished his sentence since he chose that moment to flash step forward and take off running. Sakura cursed and raced behind him but came last and ended up having to buy a round for everyone at the pub.

When Kisame woke a week later he was wide eyed and energized, which was a rare thing for him these days. He normally hated mornings but the sight of his fresh dress uniform hanging up was enough to make him remember why today was such a big deal. It wasn’t just any other day, it was Sakura’s inauguration.

The whole of Kiri was hyped as fuck for a new Mizukage like Sakura, one who revitalized their economy and recovered their crumbling hospital system. The fact that she was the wielder of Kabutowari made it feel like a long lost child coming home from the war with spoils to share with the whole country. Sakura felt like she had always been theirs, like Kiri had always been her home. Even when she had been trying to piss people off and get out of the inheritance she had fit in too well. Her brash personality and strong convictions made her-

“Perfect,” Kisame said out loud, a little too caught up in his thoughts.

He grimaced a the sound of his thoughts and moved to wash up before dressing for the day. He needed to finish waking up or else he was bound to say something else equally stupid. Today was too important to look like a fool.

In short order he was as handsome as he’d ever get with an ugly mug like his and dressed for the occasion. Samehada fit into the latch carrier on his back and outside he saw the others waiting in the courtyard to the mansion where Sakura would start her procession.

Already, people were filling the streets in hopes of catching an eyeful of their new Mizukage on her first day on the job. Some were selling flowered crowns and wreaths as the newest trend had been to emulate Sakura’s flowery good looks. Young girls were cutting their hair like her and boys were dreaming about an impossible future among the swordsmen because of her. There was a building that had been painted with a modest mural of Sakura trees and different blooming flowers in celebration. The love his people had for her was everywhere.

“You’re not late,” Suigetsu taunted.

Kisame punched the younger boy in the face, ignoring both Suigetsu and his brother in favor of seeking out Zabuza. “Hey, you hear anything yet?”

“No one here knows who’s getting the nomination, that hasn’t changed,” Zabuza answered.

“Did you sign the consent form?” Haku asked, lookin up at Zabuza first and then Kisame. The consent form was basically a way those with the qualifications could put their name in the hat that Sakura could pull from.

“On day one, brat. Why, you didn’t?”

“I…I mean I eventually put my name in for consideration. I think I’d do well at it,” Haku answered, steeling his words towards the end even if he kept glancing back at Zabuza.

Between the seven of them, the only one Kisame seriously considered a challenge was Zabuza when it came to winning Sakura’s second. The pair of them were the strongest, arguably, and had a good working relationship with others. But, between the both of them, Kisame knew he was the only one who had been on Sakura’s side since day one when she first arrived. Even if Zabuza had been won over and was loyal now, no one had been in Sakura’s corner like Kisame.

Kisame thought his chances were good.

“Get in your dame spots,” Ameyuri snapped with a dangerous edge. Since Sakura had cured Ameyuri’s disease the kunoichi was near fanatical in her devotion to Sakura. When Kisame pretended to drag his feet Ameyuri snapped her sharpened teeth at his face and he backed up with a chuckle.

The doors to the mansion opened and the elders filtered out before Yagura and Mei. Yagura and Mei paused at the top of the stairs before joining the elders in the courtyard where their respective bodyguards were stationed. That’s when Sakura emerged at the top of the stairs to the mansion and the moment Kisame thought his heart was going to stop.

The robes had never looked so good on anyone before. Underneath the white and blue folds a soft dress of flaring gray and white, detailed with pearls and accented with a thick mother of pearl gorget around her neck, like the kind samurai would wear of a heartier material. It was ceremonial but Sakura wore it like armor.

The bells on her hat tinkled as she descended the steps and took her spot at the head of the group. Her painted lips were pressed into a hard line and her jaw was set with determination, but she still looked soft where it counted.

Kisame caught her eye at one point and it made his smile grow when the corners of her eyes crinkled for him.

“Haruno Sakura…” one of the elders began.

The ceremony lasted no longer than twenty minutes before Sakura was told to turn around and address the others. “And in line with the traditions of our ancestors, I will honor them with this choice and accept a second. Should I ever fall may their strength be measured by the gods and men,” she recited perfectly. Then she locked her lips and held up a hand before adding, “and in addition to a second I will be installing a rotating support guard for the Mizukage, with the blessing of the elders who safeguard our traditions. Every member of the Seven Swordsmen will rotate into the role of a tertiary figure of my inner circle, behind my second.”

Beside him Ameyuri gasped in delight, suddenly filled with hope that even if she wasn’t chosen she would still be able to serve her idol.

“Mizukage, your pick for second shadow?” one of the elders prompted.

Sakura nodded and the bells on her hat tinkled. “For my second shadow I have chosen Yuki Haku to serve me. Yuki Haku do you accept?”

That…didn’t… make sense. Kisame snuggled to hear what Sakura said next as Haku approached her and knelt before accepting the mother of pearl pin with the symbol of Second Shadow. Haku said something back to her, maybe in thanks, but all Kisame could hear was the rush of blood in his ears as his gut churned in a grief he couldn’t understand.

#Kisame #KisaSaku #Sakura #Fanfiction #my writing #ask #darth-salem-emperor-of-earth #kisame hoshigaki #Haruno Sakura

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softwari · 3 years

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3 “Best Hosting For A Travel Blog” (2021)

Do you want to skip the read and get right to my top picks? The best web hosting service for most people is Bluehost or Hostgator

You decided to start a travel blog and looking for the best hosting for your travel blog.

To develop and assemble a strong web-based presence for your travel blog, you need to have a solid hosting platform.

Here are the top best hosting for your travel blog.

Bluehost

– Best web hosting for a travel blog.

Did you realize that Bluehost is home to multiple million sites?

That is a ton.

Having such a huge client base is sufficient proof that they are accomplishing something right. Their uptime is solid, worker speeds are acceptable, and all of their facilitating plans pack valuable elements for beginners and intermediates the same.

Bluehost web facilitating has been around since 2003 and they currently have in excess of 2,000,000 sites. They are the most well known, minimal expense facilitating alternative for new sites.

They are our first class web facilitating organization on the grounds that their most recent year uptime and speed are solid – 99.95% and 713 ms, separately.

you can get basic bluehost plan for $4.95 for 12 months, in which you get 50 GB SSD storage, free domain, free SSL, and free CDN and one website to host.

but my recommendation to you is to get their choice plus plan in which you get unlimited website to host, unlimited SSD storage, free domain, SSL and free CDN in just $7.45 for 12 months.

It’s ideal for WordPress sites since it’s formally suggested by WordPress.org.

VISIT BLUEHOST WEBSITE

Hostgator

– Affordable Web hosting for your travel blog.

HostGator has always been known for its remarkable range of hosting services, from domains to dedicated servers.

We’ve got the web hosting provider down as one of the best when it comes to shared hosting services, simply because of its reliability, pricing, and the fact that the firm boasts of a 99.9% uptime guarantee.

HostGator offers three specific shared hosting plans, starting with the Hatchling subscription, which comes with unmetered bandwidth, free WordPress/cPanel website transfer, and a free SSL certificate.

The allocations are generous and should easily accommodate the requirements of a single domain.

HostGator’s cheapest shared hosting plan is $2.75 per month if you sign up for 36 months.

HostGator also provides WordPress hosting and, like Bluehost, has its very own website builder service too, which is not uncommon for web hosting companies to have these days.

Some of the additional benefits HostGator has up its sleeves include a 45-day money-back guarantee, free transfers for new accounts within the first month after you’ve signed up, 24/7/365 live chat support for its customers, and a free domain for a year.

If you are looking for a web hosting service provider that will give you more for your money, then there are lots that HostGator checks off in that department.

VISIT HOSTGATOR WEBSITE

Hostinger

– Cheapest Web hosting for Travel blog.

Hostinger is offers some of the most affordable shared hosting solutions on the market.

Their prices literally start from $1.39/month. WOW.

You’ll have to sign a four-year contract to get the lowest deal possible, but that total contract is going to be way less than a single year with other hosts.

You don’t get a huge load of capacity, yet your site will actually want to deal with around 10,000 visits every month no issue.

You can make a simple stride up to both of Hostinger’s different plans and receive the rewards of more assets and the ability to have up to 100 destinations while as yet paying the absolute least rates around.

With Business Shared Hosting, which is just $3.99/month, you can get limitless transmission capacity, 200 GB stockpiling, and everyday site reinforcements.

That implies regardless of whether you mess up seriously, you generally approach past forms of your site.

For organizations with little or non-existent IT staff,

master client assistance is a gigantic advantage.

It is the most ideal choice in case you’re looking explicitly for a common facilitating administration that is reasonable and solid.

Hostinger gives a 99.9% uptime ensure and a 30-day cash back arrangement. That is difficult to beat at a month-to-month facilitating cost that is not exactly some espresso.

VISIT HOSTINGER WEBSITE

What I Looked at to Find the Best Web Hosting Services for a travel blog.

With regards to the best web facilitating administrations, you need to take a gander at different significant components.

In the event that you hop in excessively fast, you may get into something not appropriate for your business.

In any case, don’t let any of that uncertainty creep into your brain.

All things being equal, take it easy while we present to you every one of the elements that you should know about prior to settling on a choice.

You can gauge the distinctive web facilitating administrations and conclude which is the best answer for your particular business.

Facilitating factor #1 – Reliability:

On the off chance that your facilitating is down, nobody would have the option to get to your site.

Furthermore, clearly, you need your site running all day, every day.

Fortunately, in 2021 this is definitely not a gigantic issue since most web facilitating suppliers offer a ‘99.99% organization uptime ensure’.

That implies that your site would go down infrequently.

What’s more, in any event, when it does, you can contact your facilitating administration and you will get pay.

More often than not that would be through facilitating credits.

Assuming you need to get ready for the most noticeably terrible, you can look at our Website Downtime Survival Guide.

Probably the best practice to ensuring all that chugs along as expected in any event, when you’re enjoying some time off is to pursue the following apparatus like an uptime robot.

In the event that your facilitating administration goes too far, this device will tell you that you need to track down a new webserver to have.

Facilitating factor #2 – Speed is vital:

Hosting speed is amazingly essential with regard to SEO enhancement in 2021.

That is just since, in such a case that your pages load gradually, individuals will bob out of your site and your positioning will tumble down the channel.

You need a dependable host supplier that can ensure ideal site stacking speed.

Indeed you can’t have a clue about the specific stacking speed before you attempt the facilitating administration yourself.

Be that as it may, you can generally streamline your site stacking speed utilizing free instruments and compelling stacking speed rehearses.

What’s more, the best news is that regardless of whether your financial plan is tight, you can in any case get a decent stacking speed.

Yet, don’t expect anything marvelous for say $4/month.

By and large, the higher the value, the quicker your pages will stack.

Facilitating factor #3 – Customer administration:

Great Customer Service will prove to be useful when something turns out badly.

Particularly in case you’re new to sites, you will undoubtedly commit errors that might prompt your site to be down for some time.

Also, the additional time it’s out, the more it will set you back.

So a decent help group will assist you with getting the issues addressed right away.

Regardless of whether you committed a significant error that is difficult to return from…

Most help groups will have a full reinforcement of your site so you can return to a functioning adaptation.

You generally need your help group to have a live visit or a phone you can call.

The email simply doesn’t take care of business assuming you need to determine the issue quickly, which you should need, considering that your site is down.

We tried to incorporate just site facilitating administrations with solid relational abilities.

Conclusion:

You’re most likely going to have a long-term relationship with the hosting service you choose. So carefully look into every option that caught your eye today and select the one that fits your needs best.

These are all dependable hosting providers with a record of quality service. Whether you choose one of my top recommendations or scout out your own, use the tips and best practices we talked about to make an educated decision.

Having reliable web hosting is a must in today’s world. Make this decision like the future of your travel blog depends on it.

Disclaimer: All these hosting is shared hosting.

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memes-in-a-half-shell · 4 years

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Okay--I'd LOVE to hear how you came up with those astrological signs for the boys! Tell us, please! ^_^

AND I SHALL !!!

Something I like to do usually when creating characters - or simply trying to come up with a “fleshed out” personality for existing characters, is that I often go read astrological signs’ descriptions. Often those things are very cliché and don’t really make a lot of sense, but it is a good baseline for expanding on character development.

Leo

Capricorn (Dec.22 - Jan.19) (I personally HC that his birthday is in January)

“ Smart, hardworking, and fully in control of their destiny, a Capricorn will always get what they set their mind to, in both personal and professional life—no excuses. Capricorns may get a reputation as stubborn, but they simply know what they want, and also know how they wish other people would behave. Natural rule-followers, Capricorns thrive on order and love strict rules, hierarchies, and set ways to do things. Can a Capricorn think outside the box? Yes, they can, but they prefer when they have strict boundaries to constrain against—free reign can make them feel paralyzed by choice. “ (source)

“ Capricorn’s personality traits are derived from its receptive, feminine, or yin qualities, making this sign oriented toward contemplation and engagement with inner awareness. Alive in both a Capricorn woman or Capricorn man, those born with the Sea-Goat as their rising, sun, or moon sign have a discipline, masterful, and determined energy in the core of their personality; an echo of the resilience and resourcefulness needed to survive the cold season of their birth.As a cardinal sign, Capricorn holds the qualities of being an achiever, a builder, and a climber, able to set and conquer the loftiest goals one step at a time. Those born with the sign of the Sea-Goat prominent in their charts are great at being determined, consistent, and reliable. They often over-deliver on their promises and take their honor and public reputation very seriously. Ruled by Saturn, the primary Capricorn strengths can be found in their perseverance, longevity, and focused self-mastery. Coolheaded and down to earth, they have strong powers of discernment. They are often good Saturnian judges of character and can be approached for pragmatic advice and a fair verdict.Ruled by Saturn, the Sea-Goat does not shy away from commitment, but rather requires it of their friends, business partners, and lovers before they can fully trust. As a result, your Sea-Goat friend may be one of your most loyal allies, unless of course, you cross them in a business deal.Capricorns may not be seeking fame or glamour in the obvious sense, yet are known for their enduring beauty and classic elegance. Those born under the Sea-Goat are old souls who traditionally are understood to age in reverse. They usually begin life with the weight of the world on their shoulders that they gradually learn to let go of over the years. Humor is one of Capricorn’s most underrated strengths, which is an important source of their resiliency.Natives from this sign see the world with a pragmatic and sober eye, so have long ago made their peace with the shadows of mortality and human frailty. It is this shadow and frailty that they seek to laugh with, developing a dark, rueful humor to help them survive and endure. “ (source)

Raph

Cancer (Jun.21 - Jul.22) (Can we HC that his birthday is on July 4th x’D yes? Yes.)

“ Emotional, intuitive, and practically psychic; ruled by the moon and characterized by the crab, Cancer has so much going on in its watery depths. Cancers may seem prickly and standoffish at first meeting, once they make the decision to become friends with someone, that person has a friend for life. Most Cancers have been called psychic at some point, and with good reason—Cancer can often intuit relationships, ideas, and motivations before anyone has actually spoken. That can make for challenging interactions with this sign—Cancer hates small talk, especially when it contains white lies (like saying, "How nice to see you!" when it's clear that both parties would rather avoid each other). That's why social gatherings can be overwhelming for Cancers. They'd much rather spend time in small groups where everyone is on the same page. “ (source)

“Ruled by the moon, Cancer’s archetypal traits are derived from its receptive, feminine, or yin qualities, making this sign oriented toward contemplation, and engagement with inner awareness. Alive in both a Cancer woman or Cancer man, those born with the Crab as their rising, sun, or moon sign have a sensitive, intuitive, and protective awareness in the core of their personality; an echo of the life-supporting and sustaining energies of the Summer season.As a cardinal sign, Cancer takes leadership in the roles of being a nurturer, host, protector, and caretaker. Those born with the sign of the Crab prominent in their charts are focused on forming and maintaining family ties. They are naturally empathic, sentimental, and home-loving by nature. The primary Cancer strengths can be found in their kind, giving, and sympathetic natures. Always ready to host, and set a table, they can be counted on to feed and care for friends, family, and any weary traveler that stays in their home. With strong empathic powers and talents for healing, Cancer natives can sense what others need, often long before they have articulated it themselves.The famous sideways walk of the Crab can be observed in the cautious way a Cancer native enters a space or social gathering. They tend to come in quietly, carefully surveying their surroundings, before they open and reveal their whole selves. This protective instinct makes Cancerians good at reading the emotional tone in a room, helping them anticipate danger or crisis early. “ (source)

Donnie

Libra (Sep.23 - Oct.22) (I HC his birthday in October)

“ Intelligent, kind, and always willing to put others before themselves, Libras value harmony in all forms. Ruled by Venus, the planet of beauty, Libra adores a life that looks good. As the master of compromise and diplomacy, Libra is adept at seeing all points of view, and excels at crafting compromises and effecting mediation between others. This sign has a rich inner life yet loves other people, and they're always happiest with a large group of friends, family, and coworkers on whom they can count. An air sign, Libra can often be "up in the clouds," and while he or she is amazing at making big plans, follow through can be tricky. Working with detail-oriented signs, like Virgos or Capricorns, can help Libras actually manifest their dreams into reality, especially in the workspace. But don't call out Librans for daydreaming—their imagination is one of their biggest assets, and they often put their imagination to work by finding careers in the arts or in literature. “ (source)

“ Libra’s archetypal traits are derived from its active, masculine, or yang qualities, making this sign oriented toward engagement with the outer world. Alive in both a Libra woman or Libra man, those born with the planet of love as their rising, sun, or moon sign have an equanimous energy in their core personality. As a cardinal air sign, Libra holds the qualities of social initiation and leadership. This makes those with Libra prominent in their charts great at pioneering social projects and gatherings, and naturals at unifying their team, family, or community.Natives from this sign can be thought of as “the diplomats” of the zodiac, acting as active mediators and negotiators in any crisis or challenge. Being ruled by the planet of pleasure and attraction, Libra is usually quick to forgive and eager to smooth out differences so that everyone can get back to enjoying the finer aspects of life. Libra’s great strengths can be found in their ability to embody Venus’ loving, healing, and balancing traits. These folks will likely have the ability to put others first for the sake of everyone’s comfort and well-being. They are great communicators and listeners, fairly weighing all sides of an argument and another’s point of view. Libras are likely to not hold grudges, as it can take a lot to rouse and sustain their anger. Being very Venusian, they typically assume the best intentions in others and give most people many chances to redeem themselves.In addition to these folks’ great relational strengths, there are also their keen aesthetic sensibilities to consider. Not only will this make sun sign Librans very creative, it will make them attuned to the subtleties of atmosphere and harmonious environments. They are naturally curious about how the aesthetics of our adornments and surroundings can set the tone for our well-being and social interactions. Keeping the peace and maintaining poise, grace, and charm are strengths that can be relied on from these natives. “ (source)

Mikey

Pisces (Feb.19 - Mar.20) (I HC his birthday in March)

“ Smart, creative, and deeply intuitive, Pisces can be close to psychic. Pisces feel things deeply, and have incredibly strong gut reactions. A Pisces "knows" things from deep within, and can often judge whether a person or situation is good or bad. That doesn't mean a Pisces ignores the logical part of their brain, though. Deeply intelligent, Pisces have a profound respect for the power of the human mind. Is it a surprise that Albert Einstein was a Pisces? Pisces may seem quiet but they are incredibly strong and have a very strong sense of right and wrong. Their moral compass, along with their gut, guides them well. When a Pisces speaks up, people listen. Pisces tend to take in everything around them, and they are great people to ask for advice on pretty much anything. While Pisces has strong convictions about the best way for them to live, they have a "live and let live" approach when it comes to others, and are accepting and nonjudgmental of all. “ (source)

“ As a mutable sign, Pisces holds adaptive, fluid, and shape-shifting qualities. Those with the sign of the Two Fishes prominent in their charts are sensitive seekers who have the potential to bring a soulful, healing energy to their relationships and communities. The primary Pisces’ strengths can be found in their tender, sympathetic, and receptive natures. Naturally compassionate and empathic, Pisces are wired to offer spiritual and artistic gifts to the world. These are the poets, musicians, painters, and intuitive counselors in our communities.With Jupiter’s influence on the faith, belief, and sense of higher purpose, Pisceans can be counted on to offer help and healing support to anyone who is in need. These natives tend to drift through life on their schedule and follow an inner sense that life is unfolding as it should.Idealistic and imaginative, those born under the Two Fishes’ sign have an otherworldly quality to them and seem to retain a sense of innocence and wonder their whole lives. These natives often believe in the good of others and will likely give the benefit of the doubt. “ (source)

#it's-a-moi #mythigal1966 #ask

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hjnsa · 3 years

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An Interview With David Herlihy, Author of "Bicycle - The History"

David Herlihy's book, Bicycle: The History, was the sole book on bikes which came to the most unmistakable presentation remain at my neighborhood Barnes and Noble. Distributed in 2004, it has been a staggering achievement, carrying the historical backdrop of bikes to a huge number of individuals in a few unique dialects. The book is rich and brilliant, both in its photographs and its words.

I met David while I was in school during the 1980s. He was making a bit of additional money by purchasing delightful, marginally utilized street bicycles in Italy (DeRosas, Cinellis, Tommasinis and so forth) and afterward offering them at surprisingly reasonable costs to cyclists in the USA. This permitted him to enjoy his adoration for movement, play with great bikes, and welcome delight to individuals on the two sides of the Atlantic. On second thought, his books on cycling do essentially exactly the same things...

Q: Bicycle: The History was an enormous achievement. How has this achievement transformed you?

A: Thanks, Forbes. "Tremendous" is a family member (and exceptionally complimenting) term. Yet, in the event that I might gloat a little, since it turned out in fall 2004, Bicycle has sold more than 20,000 duplicates, for the most part hard covers. That is a beautiful thrilled figure for a book of this nature, distributed by a scholastic press. I'm certain it's much more than even Yale had expected. From what I hear, it's currently one of their untouched blockbusters (there are even releases out in Russian and Korean).

This is exceptionally satisfying, just like all the consideration it got in the press, remembering surveys for lofty distributions like The Economist and The New York Times Review of Books (I need to credit my splendid marketing specialist, Brenda King, for designing quite a bit of that). Most were very great and simple to process (a couple were less fulfilling, however I figured out how to get over them before long).

What's more, indeed, I savored my brief encounter with popularity. It was incredible fun visiting and advancing my book, regardless of whether I needed to cover my own costs generally. I delighted in giving slide talks and marking books, and meeting cycling aficionados, all things considered. One of my most significant minutes was at a bicycle show in Edison, New Jersey, where I had a table. After one person affirmed that I was indeed the creator, he sort of lost it. He had his image taken with me utilizing his phone. I felt like a hero.

Returning to reality a bit, I can't say that the book has fundamentally transformed me or way of life, essentially not yet. Be that as it may, it has been an extremely sure encounter and I think it has opened up new imaginative potential outcomes.

First off, it was an extraordinary alleviation and fulfillment to at long last transform 10 years in addition to of examination into something substantial that could give me some acknowledgment and really produce a little income to keep body and soul together (also assisting with paying for all that exploration, which incorporated various outings to Europe. Not that I'm requesting compassion, mind you!) And I should say, with all due respect, that a lot of my best material surfaced around the finish of my request. Had I distributed the book even a couple of years sooner, it basically would not have been as vivid or as rich.

In addition to the fact that i was ready to share many intriguing disclosures, I likewise had the opportunity to air some profoundly held feelings. I think there are a great deal of misinterpretations out there about bike history, particularly as to the innovation and early turn of events. The kick-impelled Draisine of 1817, specifically, was not a bike as such and, as it ended up, it didn't lead straightforwardly to the first bikes of the 1860s (however it was seemingly the essential motivation). I've likewise inferred that the Scottish need claims emerging during the blast of the late nineteenth century are questionable, best case scenario. Also, obviously the extraordinary commitment of Pierre Lallement, the first bike patentee, has for quite some time been eclipsed by the Michaux name, which similarly covered the job of the Oliviers, the genuine mechanical pioneers.

سكوترات كهربائية

In some sense it very well might be a losing fight to demand this load of focuses legends are obstinate things. In any case, presently I've spoken my tranquility and I can continue on to other energizing ventures with somewhat more monetary soundness and somewhat more validity and clout.

Q: What are some different activities you are chipping away at?

A: Over the previous few years, I've kept on giving talks to a great extent for different cycling gatherings and instructive projects. One month from now, for instance, I'll take an interest in a board conversation at the uncovering of the Major Taylor dedication in Worcester. What's more, on May 24 I'll give a discussion at the Museum of the City of New York. We're beginning to discuss assembling a show on the historical backdrop of cycling in New York, related to properly enough-Bike New York, (patrons of the yearly 5 boro ride that draws 30,000 cyclists).

I've likewise completed a few ventures with Velopress of late. I interpreted an extraordinary book on the historical backdrop of Paris Roubaix by the editors of l'Equipe. It's an excellent foot stool book with astounding photographs. Furthermore, I need to say the content is likewise very captivating! I additionally interpreted a book on the Alpe d'Huez stage by my old buddy Jean-Paul Vespini. It's turning out in half a month and I'm truly anticipating pawing through it. I just saw a few evidences and the photographs are eye-popping. Besides the creator worked really hard covering the historical backdrop of this marvel not just as a definitive stage in the Tour yet additionally as a beautiful social rendez-vous.

What's more, I just marked an agreement with Houghton Mifflin to compose a book on Frank Lenz. Exploring his captivating however failed to remember story has been my concentration for as long as couple of years and will keep on being so for a significant length of time.

دراجات هوائية

To sum up: in May 1892, on the cusp of the bike blast, Lenz set off from his old neighborhood of Pittsburgh to circle the globe on the most recent "wellbeing" bike with inflatable tires. Two years into his excursion, in the wake of intersection North America, Japan, China, Burma, India, and Persia, he bafflingly disappeared. Examiners later followed him past the Persian boundary, into Turkey and the premonition place where there is the Kurds. Unexpectedly, Outing magazine, Lenz's support, sent another American "globe girdler," William Sachtleben, to discover Lenz in any condition. It ended up being an extremely awful an ideal opportunity to visit Turkey, with slaughters of Armenians unfurling before his own eyes. Sachtleben himself was fortunate to get back alive. He immovably accepted he had settled the secret, however his inability to discover Lenz's bones or bike, or to get palatable feelings for homicide, left the matter putrefying. Lenz's crushed mother at last got a repayment from the Turkish government, yet his inheritance immediately blurred in the twentieth century as the public lost interest in the bike. I'll talk about Lenz's experience and character, and what persuaded him to go off on this risky experience. I'll likewise follow the excursion exhaustively, putting a positive twist on it. At long last, I'll seriously investigate Sachtleben's discoveries and attempt to sort out what truly befell poor Lenz.

افضل موقع بيع دراجات هوائية

Q: Do you actually have the opportunity to ride your bicycle?

A: I admit that I have the opportunity in principle. What's more, the bicycles. In any case, I don't do as much sporting riding as I ought to (and it shows, though it pains me to say so!). Of late, I've for the most part done coordinated rides every now and then. Bicycle New York has become a practice each May, and it's an impact. I likewise did part of Cycle Oregon a couple of years back, and a couple of other gathering rides from that point forward. Yet, generally I cycle in the Boston region, just to get around. I just procured another Bike Friday, which I actually need to gather. I hope to ride significantly more get-togethers. I might want to get once again into street riding, as well. In principle I could utilize one of my old Italian racers, yet I couldn't want anything more than to get something more contemporary. Also, perhaps a trail blazing bicycle as well. Had the opportunity to complete this book first, however, so I have some optional assets.

Q: Your book clarified that you love bikes. Do you cherish any one kind of bike more than others? Is there a specific sort of bike that is closest and dearest to your heart?

A: I'd need to say the exemplary light weight street bicycle with thin tires is as yet my top choice. But at the same time I'm into bikes as essential transportation, particularly during circumstances such as the present. The Bike Friday offers an incredible mix off both riding delight and reasonableness. I can't actually address mountain trekking as I've never truly enjoyed that game. In any case, I have companions who are truly into it, and I know some time or another I ought to truly check it out.

Q: You used to bring brilliant utilized street bicycles back from Italy. Do you actually have associations around there?

A: In principle, indeed, however I haven't purchased any bicycles around there in a long while. I spent various years in Italy growing up, I actually go one time each year. So I'm as yet conversant in the language. In the past I went routinely to the Milan career expo. Also, I found the opportunity to meet and meeting some incredible names like Cino Cinelli and Valentino Campagnolo, when I composed for Bicycle Guide. However, I haven't kept up my contacts in the bicycle business, though it pains me to mention it. Recently when I've gone over it's been really investigating, eating, visiting, and mingling. In a specific order, obviously.

دراجة هوائية رياضية

Q: Have bikes improved through their set of experiences? Or on the other hand were the old bike plans more down to earth than the plans for new bikes?

A: Well you can surely present the defense that the bike advanced in the second 50% of the nineteenth century, turning out to be progressively roadworthy and thus pragmatic in that sense. The first "boneshaker" of the 1860s was an honorable thought yet one in urgent need of material improvement. You could contend that its substitution, the armada however shaky high wheeler, took the idea off course, that is, away from reasonableness. All things considered, the first bike created a global uproar decisively in light of the fact that it should fill in as a reasonable "individuals' bother." And the high-wheeler, obviously, turned into a costly toy for athletic guys.

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selfwriting-sugarquills · 5 years

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Heat in the rain pt. 5: Halloween

(Weird chapter this one - George is really just in the thick of self-loathing now isn’t he? Don’t worry, though, the next chapter is hopefully gonna put him back on the right track - Hope you enjoy!!)

Description: Reader wants to make some Halloween decorations the muggle way, George isn’t thrilled about it but Fred, being the wingman that he is, gets his brother to go along with it.

Warnings: None

Word count: 1949

Parts: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 |

Things were quiet for a few weeks while you got comfortable with your new job. The flat’s three inhabitants had fallen into a set routine as the days passed by, you’d wake up first, shower, eat and get ready for work when you would be ready to leave the twins would wake up, get ready and head to work after you. After work you’d spend quiet nights after dinner, playing exploding snap with Fred and reading. George had been keeping mostly to himself, working late with paperwork and perfecting prototypes. You found it a bit strange, and a part of you was almost disappointed but then you couldn’t blame him for wanting some time alone, you figured it would be pretty annoying for the twins to be sharing a room again, even if they swore they were so used to it, they didn’t really mind. Friday as you were picking up groceries after work, you came past the Halloween decorations and candy, now: Halloween in the wizarding world was a big deal, especially in Diagon Alley, where it was tradition that the shops would stay open late, and hand out small samples along with candy to kids and parents trick or treating in the area, naturally, pretty much all of the shops followed this tradition as it was a great way of making business as well as celebrating Halloween. You picked up a couple bags of candy, actually, a few more than you probably needed but the twins had a habit of eating a lot of sweets, it was no wonder most of their products were edible.

***

At home, Fred was plotting how to get his brother and you together. Something a prankster learns very early in the game is that the planning is just as - if not more- important than the execution of the prank itself, and Fred prided himself on a number of plans that had all gone right in the past, however he also had made a few that had gone wrong, very wrong. Needless to say, Fred Weasley was not a quitter, and he wasn’t afraid to give a plan a few runs before succeeding and the major way to succeed was to do your research, which was why Fred was currently sitting in the workshop, reading a magazine mainly targeted at young women, opened on a page titled in pink letters, “How to get the passion back into your relationship” with a slightly disgusted look on his face, truly, the magazine was vile but it was an important asset to his plan. He’d never really had to spice up a relationship of his own, let alone someone else’s but alas this was George and Fred was getting seriously tired of his brother avoiding you because he felt he’d been turned down when in truth he hadn’t even spoken to you about his feelings.

“The first option is to rekindle the sexual chemistry between you and your partner,” Fred made a face like he’d taken a bite of an acid pop, “Think I’m just gonna let them figure that part out themselves,” Fred mumbled to himself, hastily skipping to the next part,

“Focus on affectionate touches:

Physical contact is a major part of maintaining an interest in a relationship so make sure to make time for things like cuddling, holding hands and other tender touches to bring back a sense of caring in the relationship...”

Fred frowned a little, that might not be a bad idea, probably won’t be able to get them to spoon but a hug might be doable he thought to himself, scribbling a note on a piece of parchment,

“Find time to spend with your partner:

Doing a simple activity you both enjoy can greatly improve the feeling of love in a relationship, plus it’s a great way to practice flirting with each other, bringing back the excitement of courting each other that might have faded since the beginning of your relationship.”

Fred scribbled again, hoping it would still work if there had never been a relationship in the first place. He closed the magazine and hid it in a stack of post lying on the kitchen counter, then he headed upstairs, tucking the parchment into a pocket in his jeans.

As he headed upstairs he quickly glanced at his watch, it was ten to five, the shops had owled around to each other agreeing to re-open at 18:00, so he still had time to figure out how to get his brother and you to spend time together. Thinking about the few ways he could get two people to hug, he entered the flat, then stopped in the doorway, you and George were standing by the kitchen counter, bending over an array of black and orange paper, you were grinning at a smaller paper, which, Fred noticed as he approached the scene, had guides on how to make different Halloween decorations on it. Fred beamed victoriously, this plan was just writing itself at this point, sure it was hard getting you to hug George if you were busy cutting out shapes but the accidental hand touch was almost inevitable,

“Whatcha got there, Y/n?” Fred asked playfully, clasping a hand on both yours and George’s shoulders,

“It’s this thing I found while shopping,” you explained, “I figured it would be more fun to make the decorations the muggle way rather than using magic,”

“And I was just saying that we already have decorations,” George said, “Magical decorations that move and fly by themselves, what exactly does a paper pumpkin bring to the table?” Fred couldn’t help but snort, he knew George all too well, and this was a prime example of him trying to avoid something he dreaded, in fact, Fred had his brother’s methods down to a T:

1. Declare your negative feelings towards the thing you’re avoiding by belittling it, as to make sure no-one’s surprised when you bail.

2. Make a run for it and hope no-one forces you to participate.

Unfortunately, it seemed you also knew George well enough to see through it, as you didn’t bother playing along,

“We can always enchant them when we're done making them, then they’ll also fly.” You said, George crossed his arms, “I agree with Y/n,” Fred said, “Besides, it won’t hurt to spend a little time together.” He added not breaking eye-contact with George who shot him a “Don’t even go there” look.

“If you’re so keen on it, then you do it.” George replied, not breaking eye-contact either, Fred understood this as “I don’t want to be alone with Y/n so volunteer and then I can go literally anywhere else” A smile tugged at Fred’s lips, you wish he thought, “No can do, mate, I’m needed at the shop,”

“And I’m not?”

“Nope, Verity’s already asked if she could hand out samples,” When George opened his mouth to retort, Fred hastily added, “She’s got a costume and everything, says she’s been waiting all week to show it off, so I think she should get to do so, then I’ll help out and you two,” Fred strained not to add ‘lovebirds’, “can stay here and work on these absolutely splendid decorations!” He knew that his brother wasn’t going down without a fight, but Fred wasn’t gonna let an opportunity like this pass him by, even the most amateur planner knew to grab a good chance whenever they arose. The two twins stared at each other, Y/n glancing between them,

“By the time we’ll be finished the shop will be closed,” George tried, Fred’s mind was working at top speed trying to come up with a way to spin it, when he didn’t find anything right away he panicked slightly,

“We’ll hurry,” Said Y/n, Fred grinned,

“Yeah, make a competition out of it for all I care,” He said, flashing his brother his best “I’m winning” smile,

“C’mon, George don’t look like that, it’s only Halloween once a year, if we don’t make them now we’ll have to wait a whole year to make them,” Y/n said, giving the grumpier twin her best puppy-eyes, she’s good, Fred thought to himself, as you grabbed George’s hand and begged, “Please?” Fred thought he could see George’s inside melt, very good, indeed.

“Fine.”

***

It was mostly quiet in the flat. George tried his best to focus on the paper in front of him, tracing the outline of a cauldron.

“Thanks for agreeing to do this, I know you weren’t exactly thrilled at the idea,” You said, smiling at him. Normally, he would have jumped at the opportunity to spend time with you, the days where he got to sit alone with you were the best days he could remember, it still was the best.

“It’s alright,” George tried his best to seem unaffected by the way you smiled at him, “what are you making,”

“You,” You said, the smile turned into a mischievous grin, you pointed to the guide, your finger landing on the figure of a bat labelled “Grouchy the dungeon-bat” George grinned,

“I’m not grouchy!” He said, chucking a crumpled ball of paper after you, making you laugh,

“Yes, you are!” You said, “You barely talk to me anymore, and all you do is hide in the workshop,” your smile faded a little, George’s insides twisted uncomfortably,

“I’ve been busy,”

“Clearly,” You said, your lips forming a thin line, George wanted to reach out to you, take your hand, reassure you somehow, then he reminded himself that he couldn’t, he wasn’t yours to do so, he was your friend, nothing more.

“You know, if I’ve upset you, you can just say so,” You said then, your eyes piercing his own, “You haven’t, I-I just-” He stammered, why was it so hard to talk to all of a sudden?

“You just what?” George tried his best not to see the hurt on your face,

I just haven’t been able to tell you how I feel because I’m dead scared you don’t love me as much as I love you.

“I’ve just been busy,” George heard himself say, disappointed in himself he added, “I promise I’ll be around more,” even if it hurts like hell.

***

Why did it feel like George was hiding something? You stared down at the black paper in front of you, trying to blink away the tears that had lined your eyes.

“How’s work?” George asked, sounding like he meant to say something else, you looked up into his chocolate coloured eyes trying to find what he meant to ask but to no avail - when did he get such a good poker face anyways?

“It’s good - the coworkers are really nice,” You didn’t know, as you cut out the shape of a bat whilst talking, but George felt a pang in his stomach, remembering the man he’d seen you with, “and most of the time it’s pretty quiet, which is nice.”

George’s insides were burning now, as much as he tried not to, he couldn’t suppress the thought of you and the dark-haired man alone when there were no customers, how much did he make you laugh? Did you often touch his arm the way you’d touch him? George tried to swallow his jealousy, but the image of the man and you were burned into his mind.

“That’s good,” He forced the words out without a trace of resentment, it wasn’t your fault if he felt this way, you had all the right in the world to be happy with someone else, Merlin knew that all George wanted was for you to be happy, “It’s good that you’re happy,” He added, mostly to himself.

___

Taglist: @lilcutekittykat @proflongbttm

___

ALSO, READER BE LIKE:

#George Weasley #Fred Weasley #george weasley x reader #George weasley fluff #fred weasley x reader #fred lives #fred weasley lives #Fred Weasley fluff #weasley twins #weasley twins x reader #weasley twins fluff

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cakesunflower · 5 years

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Fall From Grace [C.H. AU] Part 1

A/N: sooo if any of y’all remember, i had a fanfic called Fall From Grace and i ended up deleting it because i lost inspo. but i just decided to pick it up again bc i got motivated to write it again. so this entire part 1 consists of the 8 chapters that used to be on here, roughly over 24.8k words. part 2 will be everything that comes after, so if you’d read the 8 chaps that used to be on here, this part may seem familiar bc it’s literally the same thing. happy reading!

-----UPDATE: once again tumblr has fucked up and i realized a little too late. please do not read this on desktop, because parts of the story seem to be missing from it. read it on the MOBILE APP. that way, you get the FULL version. this website is so dumb.-----

READ!!! ON!!! MOBILE!!!!!

Part 1

“YOU CAN’T BE serious,” Calum Hood laughed, though even he could hear the slight nervous tinge that slipped into his tone as he stared at his parents, utterly baffled and taken aback at what he just heard. He was sure his parents were kidding, but the stoic expressions on their faces had Calum’s gut twisting in dread.

“Does it look like we’re joking, Calum?” His mother responded, staring at her son in practiced disappointment. He was twenty-three years old, she shouldn’t have to treat him like he was some teenager making mistakes. Yet, here they were, doing exactly that because Calum hadn’t left them with any other choice.

Calum’s hands curled into fists, the same hands that had the initials of the very parents that were doing this to him tattooed on them, exhaling a sharp, affronted breath. “What the hell am I supposed to do in North Carolina?” he demanded, his voice that only carried a hint of his Australian accent deepening with the irritation that ran through his veins.

“Stay away from the limelight you’ve attracted to yourself,” his father answered, not at all perturbed by Calum’s annoyance as he nodded towards the several tabloid magazines on the table between them, all slapped with headlines and pictures of Calum that did not paint him, or his family, well. His dad lifted his chin, continuing, “Your grandparents already have a room ready for you; they expect you at the airport tomorrow evening.”

Calum couldn’t believe this. He loved his parents, he truly did, but having this being done to him made him seriously question their love for him. They would argue they weren’t doing this to him but for him, but in this moment it was all the same to Calum. So what if he got into some trouble here and there—that didn’t justify them sending him to a town that barely had the population of his alma mater. He may be out of school, but it was still the summer—Calum would be damned if he had to spend it in fucking Bridgelake, North Carolina. He wasn’t a child. They couldn’t just ship him off as a way of getting rid of the problem.

He crossed his arms over his chest, the short sleeves of his shirt straining against his muscles as he tautly stated, You can’t make me go there, let alone spend the entire summer.”

“Actually, we can,” his dad countered smoothly, his accent thicker than his son’s as he pushed his glasses further up the bridge of his nose, leaning back on the couch. Calum remained where he stood, only his gaze flickering towards his dad. “I still have control over your accounts and I’m freezing most of your assets.” Calum froze, adam’s apple bobbing in his throat at the news and muscles tightening in anger. “You’re lucky I’m even sending you across the country in first class. You’ll have limited access to your account; should you run out, your grandparents will give you an allowance as they see fit.”

Calum was sure there would be bruises left on his arms from how tightly he was gripping them, still crossed over his chest as he felt even the material of his rings biting into his skin. Was his dad serious? Part of Calum still hoped that this was some kind of prank his parents were pulling on him, but each passing second had the ball of dread sinking lower in his stomach and his anger over this whole thing spiking.

Before he could get another word out, his mother spoke up once more, this time her voice soft and carrying maternal gentleness. “Sweetheart, you’re out until odd hours of the night and you’re showing up to company events either high out of your mind or drunk off your feet. If you’re not doing that, you’re getting involved with some girl or another or getting kicked out of places for acting out. You’re bringing bad attention to your father’s company and more importantly, to yourself.”

A dull ache formed in Calum’s mouth from clenching his jaw so hard as his mother listed off everything he’s done in the past few months. The partying, the drinking, the drugs—he’s always done that, but he’s always been smart about it. But with each shot of whiskey, drag of a cigarette or hit of a blunt had more and more of Calum’s common sense slipping away and soon enough, he didn’t care who saw him doing what.

Though, he’s pretty sure the recent scandal of some girl he met once leaking messages, videos and pictures of a very nude Calum was the last straw for his parents.

Still, he couldn’t help but grumble, “What happened to there being no such thing as bad press?”

“You’re being careless,” his father snapped, making Calum tighten his jaw once more. “This decision is final, Calum. Maybe staying off the grid in a no-name town will help you realize there’s more to life than getting high or partying every Goddamn night. Besides, it’ll give you some time to spend with your grandparents—it’s been a while since you saw them.”

Calum exhaled sharply through his nose, aggravation running thicker than blood in his veins. He didn’t mind seeing his grandparents; he missed them a lot, actually. But the mere thought of leaving his Los Angeles home to stay in some small-ass North Carolina town for three months made him want to smoke three packs out. He was pissed and, frankly, mildly embarrassed that his parents were treating him like he was thirteen instead of twenty-three. But more so pissed because he had plans with his friends for the summer and now what? He was being dropped in the middle of nowhere?

Fucking hell.

✩✩✩✩✩

After a seven and a half hour flight with a stop in Charlotte, Calum’s plane finally landed in Wilmington, North Carolina around eight at night. The airport was ridiculously small—the plane from Charlotte to Wilmington didn’t even have first class, though since the flight was only an hour long, Calum didn’t mind too much. But when he greeted his grandfather with a hug after collecting his bags and stepped outside of the airport, a heavy sigh escaped him at the sight of the pouring rain. Los Angeles would never treat him this way.

Though, Calum would admit, the rain was definitely a startling depiction of his mood ever since his parents dropped this news on him.

“Oh, come on, pal. It’s not gonna be like this every day,” Grandpa Daniel assured Calum with a clap on his back, opening up the umbrella as the two of them made their way through the parking lot to where his car was parked. It wasn’t busy and not many people were around, so only the sound of rain pattering against the ground and the rattling of the luggage cart wheels could be heard. “You’ll see the sunshine soon.”

Calum hiked the strap of his duffel bag higher up on his shoulder, hands gripping the bar of the cart as he pushed it along. “It’s not L.A. sunshine,” he grumbled under his breath.

Grandpa Daniel heard him over the rain. “Sun’s the same everywhere, Cal. Only difference is you’ll see it here three hours sooner.”

Rolling his dark eyes, Calum didn’t say anything in response as they finally reached his grandfather’s station wagon, putting all of his luggage in the trunk and refusing Grandpa Daniel’s help before quickly making his way over to the front seat. He had his hood up under his leather jacket, which his grandfather made fun of him for wearing because who wore leather jackets and hoodies during the summer? Apparently Calum.

The drive from Wilmington to Bridgelake didn’t take too long, especially with Calum’s grandfather playing Frank Sinatra and Dean Martin through the car, but that didn’t stop Calum from drearily staring out the raindrop stained windows. They drove through the somewhat busy roads, the small houses and stores nothing but shadows in the night yet a sharp reminder to Calum that he wasn’t in Los Angeles anymore. Even during the night when no one was out and about because of the rain, Calum could see the difference in this town and the city he loved; the fact that it was raining on his first night here was probably a sign on how the rest of his so-called summer was going to go.

Shit, he couldn’t believe his parents did this to him.

It wasn’t long until his grandfather was pulling the car onto the gravel driveway of one story house that Calum couldn’t help but compare to a hotel suite. Correction—he’s stayed in suites larger than his grandparents’ home, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to tell them that. By the time they had arrived, the rain had slowed and the house was a shadowy structure save for the light Calum saw through the window on the house and on the front door.

This time Grandpa Daniel grasped Calum’s duffel and one of the suitcases while Calum carried the other two by the handles, following his grandfather up the steps as the mild drizzle pelted at his jacket and hood. “Here we are,” Grandpa Daniel breathed out, shooting his grandson, who was almost a head taller than him, a grin as he used his keys to unlock the front door. “Home sweet home.”

Calum took in a preparing breath. Not what he would call it.

✩✩✩✩✩

Olivia wished she was used to the stares that often followed her when she left the comfort of her home, feeling the judgmental gazes burning into her skin like they have been for the past four years. Sure, they weren’t as bad as when she was eighteen, but apparently some people still thought to visualize their opinions whenever Olivia came into view, and all she could do was ignore them and not feed into their contempt.

So she pasted on a smile, kept her head up as much as she could bring herself to, and went on with her day.

Still, that didn’t mean she couldn’t hear the two women standing at the end of the cereal aisle, glancing over at Olivia as if she was a different species. Olivia sighed. Perks of living in a town with a total population matching that of a small school in a big city. Some weren’t as bad as others; they either didn’t care enough to send a glare Olivia’s way every time she stepped out of her apartment or they had moved on altogether, but there would always be some people in Bridgelake that would hate seeing Olivia out and about in the same streets as them.

She could only hope her fourteen year old sister, Alana, wasn’t as hyper aware of others’ stares as she was.

“Alright, I got my Loopies, can we go now?” Alana smiled innocently as she dropped the box of Froot Loops into the cart, staring at her older sister with a hopeful expression.

Olivia raised bemused eyebrows, chin dropping slightly. “Okay, first of all—you’re fourteen. When are you gonna stop calling them Loopies?” Alana rolled her eyes, waving Olivia off, who continued, “And we still have half the grocery list left. Keep it moving.”

Alana’s shoulders dropped with a huff and Olivia had to suppress her amused smile. Her younger sister wasn’t really a fan of going grocery shopping—when whatever Alana wanted was in the cart, she was ready to leave, and sometimes the only way to quell her was to promise a McFlurry from the in-house McDonald’s up front.

Alana walked beside Olivia as she moved the cart along, making their way out of the aisle—they walked past the two women, who noticeably quieted as the two girls walked past and Olivia didn’t spare them a glance, her stomach twisting in annoyance—and towards the back of Walmart. But as they made their way to the wall of milk and juices, another cart made its way through an aisle to their left, causing Olivia to stop short so the two carts didn’t collide.

“Olivia, honey, almost ran right into you!” Came the voice of Claudia Hood, an elderly woman who adored Olivia and Alana as much as they adored her. She was in her late sixties but always on her feet, active especially at the animal shelter she ran. Olivia had met her years ago when she used to volunteer at the shelter when she was in high school, which Alana now volunteers at. “Already time for your weekly shopping, hmm?”

“Yeah,” Olivia responded before shooting her sister a dry smile. “Alana wasted all the eggs trying to bake a cake so, you know, it was time.”

Amusement danced in Claudia’s dark eyes, eyebrows raising. “Did it turn out well, at least?”

“Yes.”

“No.”

Alana scowled at Olivia for her negative answer, the older one just smiling innocently as Claudia laughed at the sisters. “My grandson arrived last night so I brought him with me to stock up on anything he may want to eat,” she informed with a shake of her head. “I’m getting all the healthy food and he’s off somewhere getting snacks.” Claudia then glanced around, a slight furrow in her eyebrows. “Though, he’s been off for some time. Wouldn’t be surprised if he’s gotten himself lost.”

Olivia raised her eyebrows at that, her maternal instincts derived from practically raising her sister for the past four years sending a tiny rush of worry through her at the thought of Claudia’s grandson being lost somewhere in here. Despite the size of the town, the Walmart here was intimidatingly big and easy to get lost in.

“Oh, there he is!” Claudia’s voice suddenly exclaimed, making Olivia look at her as she raised her hand, looking straight ahead as she called, “Calum, over here, love!”

Following Claudia’s gaze, Olivia had expected to see a young boy, maybe even a teenager, since Claudia had never disclosed her grandson’s age. What she hadn’t expected, however, was a six foot tall man with dark curls and tattoos inking his arm that carried some bags of chips and fingers decorated with rings that held a case of beer making his way over. Olivia blinked at the sight of the startlingly handsome guy who was probably around her age, with golden skin and deep, dark brown eyes, making his way down as if he owned the place and didn’t give a shit about it.

He had a bored expression on his face, plump lips pressed together as he approached them and dumped what he carried in his grandmother’s cart with a clatter. “Olivia, Alana, this is my grandson Calum,” Claudia introduced with a smile, gesturing to the man who was a good two heads taller than her. Maybe more. “Calum, this is Olivia and Alana.”

“Hi,” Alana chirped happily, while Olivia offered a polite smile of her own. Calum’s gaze flickered to the younger of the two, his lips twitching into the smallest of smiles, before he looked at Olivia. She felt herself stiffen slightly under his gaze, feeling as though he was looking right through her, and she forced herself to break his intense gaze. Olivia was used to people staring at her—she wasn’t used to people looking at her.

“He’s staying with us for the summer,” Claudia said, bringing Olivia’s attention back to the elderly woman, who smiled happily, “So you’ll be seeing lots of him around town.”

“‘M not exactly a social butterfly, Grams,” Calum’s low voice spoke, crossing his arms over his chest and Olivia tried not to notice how his biceps bulged under the tight black shirt that read GUCCI across his broad chest. She did, however, notice the hint of a lisp in his accented yet raspy voice; Olivia didn’t know someone’s voice could hold so many traits.

“Really, now?” Claudia raised an eyebrow, shooting her grandson an amused yet skeptical look as she clicked her tongue. “That’s not what your father tells me.”

Olivia’s eyebrows lifted curiously, if not by what Claudia said then by the reaction it elicited from Calum, which consisted of his sharp jaw clenching tightly—how could someone have baby-like chubby cheeks but a jaw sharp enough to cut glass?—while turning his head away from his grandmother. He almost reminded Olivia of a petulant child, which would be amusing if it weren’t for the muscle jumping in his jaw.

Calum, on the other hand, was seething with irritation because he didn’t need his dad talking to his grandparents about what Calum got up to. Let them see it on TV, the Internet, or on magazines like the rest of the world. Other people’s words were less incriminating than his own father’s. Calum knew he had no room to be angry about his grandparents learning what he had gotten up to—they may live in the middle of nowhere but they still had Internet and a TV, they could easily find out what Calum got himself wrapped up in—but the last thing he wanted was his parents gossiping to his grandparents about him.

His mood sour, more so than it already was, Calum’s jaw remained tight, ignoring the dull ache his teeth soon began experiencing. Olivia found herself looking at him again as Alana and Claudia talked about one of the dogs at the shelter, wondering what Claudia could’ve meant by her words that had gotten Calum so blatantly pissed off. She didn’t know him at all, but she knew an angry person when she saw one.

Calum just radiated a bad energy at this point, and Olivia felt a bit uncomfortable being around someone who looked like he’d rather be anywhere but here, too used to people giving that vibe when she was near, so Olivia quickly yet politely interrupted Claudia and Alana’s conversation. “Sorry, guys, but we still have some grocery left and gotta stop at the library before it closes,” Olivia smiled apologetically, thanking the universe that her excuse wasn’t really a lie. They did have to do those things and it was coming close to the public library’s closing time, but she hadn’t been in a rush until after meeting Calum.

“Oh, sure, sure, honey,” Claudia nodded, gesturing for the girls to run off.

Alana waved goodbye as Olivia pushed her cart forward, forcing herself to bring her gaze over to Calum, feeling her heart thump particularly harshly when she saw his dark eyed gaze already on her. She forced a smile on her face as she said, “It was nice meeting you, Calum.” He blinked before nodding once, not bothering with a verbal response. Jeez, what was up with him? Shooting a wider, more genuine smile to Claudia, Olivia added, “I’ll see you later!”

The two girls moved along after bidding goodbye, though Olivia could still hear Claudia admonish Calum behind her. “You could at least say a friendly goodbye, Calum. No grandson of mine is going to walk around as if he’s learned no manners.”

Olivia didn’t hear Calum’s response as they kept moving. She didn’t see Claudia or her grandson again as they continued shopping, though Olivia bit the inside of her cheek when she thought about him for a moment. He definitely looked like a city guy; tight shirt and jeans despite the eighty degree weather outside, and she had even noticed his expensive looking boots. Who wore polished black boots to Walmart?

“Claudia’s grandson’s cute, don’t you think?” Alana hummed as they finally got to the self-checkout, loading the items on the belt as Olivia scanned them.

Olivia shot her a glance, trying not to think of the dark eyes and inked skin. “Kind of old for you, isn’t he?”

Her fourteen year old sister rolled her eyes but Olivia didn’t miss the flush in her cheeks, once again trying to hide her amused grin as she double bagged the gallon of milk.

Bridgelake rarely ever got new residents, even if Calum was a temporary one for the summer, Olivia would be lying if she wasn’t curious about the new guy. Even if he did seem like he had a stick shoved up his ass. He was Claudia and Daniel’s grandson, and Olivia and Alana were close with them and enjoyed being around them. Especially because they were such happy, genuinely kind people and were two of the few people who didn’t turn Olivia and Alana away when the accident happened four years ago. So with grandparents like that, Olivia couldn’t help but wonder why Calum seemed to look like he perpetually woke up on the wrong side of the bed.

✩✩✩✩✩

Calum could quite honestly name only two things that didn’t make his stay in Bridgelake as intolerable as it potentially could. The first thing was seeing his grandparents and the second was getting to hang out with their German Shepherd, Bruno. His mood remained sour since he arrived from the airport, but even Calum couldn’t keep the smile off his face when he greeted his grandfather at the airport and then his grandmother and Bruno at the house.

If there were two things that could put a smile on Calum’s face, it was family and dogs—even when the former were making him want to put his head through a wall.

He’s been in Bridgelake for three days, and was already fielding calls and messages left and right from his friends back in Los Angeles, asking him where the hell he was. Really, he told his three best friends already about his punishment, all of whom laughed their asses off at Calum’s expense, and everyone else was just wondering where their party provider friend ran off to. Calum sometimes wondered if those people were actually his friends or just wanted him around for the parties he threw and the alcohol he provided.

Technically, he knew the answer, but didn’t want to think about it.

But really—Calum would rather be partying it up with his real and fake friends back home than slouching in his grandfather’s La-Z-Boy, aggravated that he quite literally had nothing to do here. There was always something going on in Los Angeles, so Bridgelake being dryer than dirt was making Calum irrationally irritated. He liked being entertained, he liked going out in L.A. with his friends—none of which could happen here. Being left alone with his own thoughts was a pastime he’d rather not indulge himself in. Especially when they reminded him of how truly alone he was.

As if reading his lamenting mood, Calum’s grandfather spoke up, “You know Bridgelake may not be your fancy big city, but that doesn’t mean there’s nothing to do here, pal.”

Calum leaned his head back in the recliner haphazardly, as if it took too much effort to hold it up so he lolled it to sideways to raise a bemused eyebrow at Gramps, who was sitting on the couch to Calum’s right. “Oh, yeah?” he snorted in disbelief. “Like what?”

Gramps looked up from the book he was reading, gaze landing on Calum. “Well,” he began, taking off his reading glasses. “There’s the cinemas, a new bowling alley opened up a few months ago and—oh, there’s also the beach. That’s something you should definitely be familiar with, eh?”

Calum rarely ever went to the beach in Los Angeles, only when there was a bonfire or if someone was throwing a party at their beach house. But, really, was that list his grandfather just gave him supposed to impress him? It was pathetic—it was nothing. If Calum wanted, he could do all of that in one day and the rest of the three months would be spent in bored misery. “No clubs? Bars?”

His grandfather rolled his eyes. “Sorry to disappoint but we don’t have any of your Californian clubs here.” Then he pointed at Calum with his glasses. “We do have a few bars around town—though, they don’t open until five.”

It was only eleven-thirty in the morning and Calum was two seconds away from calling up his parents and demanding a flight back home. He might as well just smoke to keep himself entertained for a few moments. Calum let out a deep groan, sinking lower into the recliner as he stared up at the ceiling, eyes following the quick movements of the fan whirring around. “Why don’t you go to the shelter, then?” Gramps suggested with a sigh. “I’m sure your grams wouldn’t mind help with the animals.”

It was comical how Calum perked up at the mention of animals—some of the very few things that could put him in a good mood. Maybe being surrounded by little balls of fur would help distract him from being in this miserable town.

So Calum stood up with a huff, ignoring the satisfied expression on his grandfather’s face as he walked out of the living room, past the dining room and kitchen and headed down the end of the hall where his room was. Honestly, it was literally smaller than his bathroom back home, but he wasn’t going to tell his grandparents that. It baffled Calum how his family lived in a house that had a garage the size of his grandparents’ entire home, and they stuck to living in this small space. They had the money and the means, Calum knew, so living here was their choice. He didn’t—couldn’t—understand why.

Once he had put on his jeans, boots and favorite leather jacket over his Led Zeppelin shirt, he left the house after taking the keys to his grandfather’s truck that he was allowed to drive. It was rustic and a deep red color, the engine sputtering to life and not at all familiar to Calum’s ears since he was so used to hearing the roar of his BMW back home, but it’d have to do, he lamented.

The town was small and his grandfather had given him directions to the shelter, which was on First Street, so Calum drove with the air conditioner blasting against his face. It was hot out, and his outfit probably didn’t help, but Calum was used to the California heat so the North Carolina weather really was nothing in comparison.

He drove through the surprisingly busy streets, past houses, restaurants, salons, farmers markets and parks and he almost felt suffocated by how strong the small town vibe this place carried was. Sure, Los Angeles was packed with people and New York was even worse, but something about big cities comforted Calum. He could feel lost and have his own headspace if he wanted, even if eventually his face ended up in front of some tabloid or another. Small towns may be isolated, but even inside them a person had a low chance of getting lost amongst everyone else unlike in a big city. Small towns weren’t as private as his cities were.

It wasn’t hard to find his grandmother’s animal shelter; right in between a bookstore and a photography one, with a blue and white sign labeled New Homes with a paw print in the corner of it. Finding a parking space, Calum stepped out with sunglasses shielding his eyes, shoving the keys in his jeans pocket as he stepped onto the sidewalk before pushing open the door.

Immediately, the many smells of an abundance of animals greeted Calum’s nose, as well as the occasional barking and meowing that overpowered any other sound. It was a spacious place, with the left and right walls lined up with little dens for cats and dogs, roomy enough for them to fit in comfortably with a caged gate to keep them inside. There were playpens in the middle and a counter in the front where all the paperwork was done, and there was a doorway in the back that led to the bathing area, behind the shelves of pet food, toys, and other care products for sale.

Calum took off his sunglasses, taking in the sight of two young kids sitting in one of the playpens, overjoyed to be playing with labrador puppies, and a few adults looking around as he hung his glasses on his neckline. He instantly felt himself drawing closer to the dens where the dogs were, the biggest ones on the ground and the smaller ones higher up on the shelf.

“Hi, buddy,” he murmured quietly, sticking his fingers through one of the den cages where a basset hound sat, tilting his head towards Calum’s fingers to brush up against them. The corner of Calum’s lips tugged up at the puppy trying to get closer to him even with the cage separating them. “You’re pretty cute, huh?”

“Calum, honey,” his grandmother’s voice sounded, making his hand drop from the cage, much to the puppy’s dismay as Calum turned around, watching as his grandmother smiled and made her way over. “Dan told me you were coming. Got bored of sitting around the house, hm?” she asked knowingly, raising a pointed eyebrow.

Calum shoved his fists into the pockets of his leather jacket, feeling the cool metal of his bracelets on either wrist rest against his skin. “Something like that,” he vaguely responded, his attention drawn towards the playpen when the young girl let out a delighted squeal because a puppy was happily licking at her face. Even Calum had to admit it was a heartwarming sight.

“Can you do me a favor, love?” Grams brought his attention back, making him look down at the short woman with dark blonde hair speckled with grey. He lifted his eyebrows silently. “Head off into the back storage room and there’s bags of dog food sitting on a top shelf. Can’t miss it. Bring over two and put them on that shelf over there, will you?”

He wanted to tell her he was just here to see the animals, not be put to work, but the hopeful look on his grandmother’s face had him swallowing his words. So with a nod, he turned to head to the back room, though he still rolled his dark eyes in exasperation. Calum passed all of the other animals, weaving through some of the people loitering around the store as he entered the back. He walked past a bathing area, nose wrinkling at the unsurprising smell of wet dog before reaching another door, where he saw an abundance of products that he saw some of in the actual store.

Catching sight of the large packages of food, Calum picked up two of them and hoisted them on his right shoulder effortlessly, right hand resting on top of it to keep the two pile steady as he made his way back. Once he spotted the shelf he was supposed to put them on, he put the two packages there on display, habitually dusting his hands off together as he turned to make his way back to where his grandmother was, though stopping when the shop door swung open and in came two familiar faces.

It was the two girls from Walmart the other day. Calum had to admit, the older one was ridiculously attractive with brilliant blue eyes, sharp cheekbones and full lips Calum couldn’t help but notice. She—Olivia, her name Calum remembered—was definitely a sight for sore eyes in a town like this, and while Calum had the opportunity to be a decent human being to her, his sour mood prompted him to keep his mouth shut when she appeared. His grandmother had given him an earful for that.

Calum watched as Olivia entered the store behind her younger sister, Alana, who wore the same light blue shirt the other workers in the store did. The two talked to his grandmother for a bit before Alana went off to the side to the cages, leaving just Olivia with his grams as he made his way over.

“—can’t really afford it, so she wanted me to ask you if she could increase her volunteering hours just by a little bit,” Olivia was saying as Calum leisurely made his way over, watching as the brunette ran her fingers through her wavy hair to push it back. She let out a quiet sigh. “I promised her she could go next year, but she was still pretty disappointed and I feel bad.”

“Oh, sweetheart, you’re doing such a wonderful job raising her—I’m sure Alana understands,” Grams reassured with a smile, giving Olivia’s hand a squeeze right behind she noticed Calum’s presence once he reached them. “Oh, Olivia, you remember my grandson.”

As if I could forget. Olivia smiled at him, the same smile she offered at Walmart that Calum hadn’t even bothered to return, and didn’t feel inclined to do so now because of the heavy weight on his shoulders. His grandmother delivered a sharp yet subtle jab to his side, causing the 6’1” man to grimace slightly before forcing a small smile. “Yeah, good to see you again,” Olivia greeted kindly.

She came off as kind of shy, Calum couldn’t help but observe, especially with how her fingers were fiddling with the strap of her purse. He also noticed how Olivia wore little to no makeup, which was quite a difference from the many women he knew back at home, and while that wasn’t something Calum noticed nor cared about, he couldn’t help but think how Olivia was one of the most attractive girls he’s ever seen.

Calum wanted to snort at himself; what was he supposed to do with that thought? Then again, he figured if he was going to suffer in Bridgelake for three months, then he might as well have something nice to look at.

Suddenly Grams let out a small laugh. “Looks like the retriever pups are having a field day with Alana.”

Calum looked at his grandmother, seeing that she was looking past him and followed her gaze where he saw Alana cradling two of the Golden Retriever puppies, who were happily licking away at her face. “They’re livin’ the dream,” Calum’s low voice sounded, eyes on the sight. He wasn’t sure if he meant his words of if they were supposed to be some kind of sarcastic dig at the fact that he’s most certainly not living his dream in this town.

Olivia peered at him, taking in the curly tousle of his hair and the sharp line of his jaw as he stood tall with shoulders squared and hands in the pockets of his leather jacket. Seriously—how was he wearing that in eighty degree weather? She felt constricted in the capris she was currently wearing. “Yeah,” Olivia found herself slowly speaking, wondering if he was up for holding a conversation. She wasn’t sure if Calum wasn’t the talkative type or if his obvious dislike of the town had him keeping to himself. “Our apartment building doesn’t allow pets so Alana gets her fill volunteering here.”

The smallest of smiles curled at Calum’s lips hearing that, gaze flickering to Olivia. She was also watching Alana, and just by the fond look on her face Calum could tell how much she loved her sister. It made Calum miss his own, who was living her life in New York, as he pursed his lips. Maybe if his parents hadn’t sent him here he could’ve gone to see her.

“Anyways, I should get going to work,” Olivia said, shooting Claudia a smile. “I’ll be back during my lunch break to pick her up.”

Calum watched as Grams shot Olivia a mildly exasperated look. “You know Alana likes staying here for more than just a few hours, especially now that her hours are going to increase,” she said with a light laugh. “I’m more than willing to drop her home.”

Olivia’s lips parted and for a brief second Calum saw the hopeful look flash across her eyes before she worried, “Are you sure?”

Grams shot her a look. “Olivia.”

Then the blue eyed girl grinned, taking a relieved breath as she hiked her bag higher up on her shoulder. “Alright, thank you, Claudia,” Olivia breathed as she walked backwards towards the door. “I’ll see you,” she added with a wave as Grams called back a goodbye and Calum merely pulled at the front of his jacket, hands still fisted into the pocket, as a makeshift wave.

Calum watched after her as she disappeared down the sidewalk, unable to process even a single thought since his grandmother sighed next to him. “Such a hardworking girl, bless her heart.”

He glanced at her, quirking an eyebrow as she moved over to the counter, opening up a binder full of lists that Calum didn’t spare a look at as he lazily followed Grams. “So you, uh, know her well?”

Grams hummed, eyes on the binder. “Oh, yes, for a few years now. It’s unfair what’s happened to her and her sister.”

Calum blinked, unsure of what she meant as he glanced over his shoulder where Alana was playing with the puppies before asking confusedly, “What do you mean?”

A sigh left Grams, left arm folded on top of the counter as she looked up at her grandson. “There was a horrible accident four years ago,” she began quietly, voice lowered so no one else would listen in as Calum found himself leaning in slightly. “The girls’ parents were involved. Their father, Sid, was drunk and had gotten behind the wheel. Swerved into another vehicle and ended up injuring one of the other people involved, and killing three others. One of them was the girls’ mother, Jana.”

Eyes wide, Calum stared at his grandmother in disbelief, her words an unexpected head spinner. That was definitely he hadn’t seen coming, and suddenly Calum’s chest felt tight as he thought of Olivia and Alana, and how he couldn’t possibly imagine what they must have felt, what they must feel, with a past like that.

Grams had a sad, heartbroken look in her eye, gaze distant as her brows furrowed slightly. “Sid’s serving a fifteen to life sentence. Olivia was eighteen when it happened so she got custody of Alana, since the poor girls had no family to take them in. They stayed with a family friend but their mum and grandparents left money for them so Olivia sold their family home and got an apartment for herself and Alana. Been raising her sister ever since.”

He didn’t know Olivia or Alana, but Calum’s jaw dangerously tightened at Grams’ words, feeling a heaviness in his chest at the thought of the two girls being alone after something as horrible as that. Calum couldn’t even imagine what it would be like to live in a world where their father was imprisoned for unintentionally killing their mother, and an uncomfortable shiver traveled down his spine. He didn’t want to even think about something like that; the fact that it was those girls’ lives was horrific, gut twisting uneasily as his throat worked to keep it from tightening.

“But it’s a small town,” Grams continued, bringing Calum’s attention back to her, watching as her thin eyebrows furrowed together in a distasteful frown as she shook her head. “People talk—they haven’t stopped. Many see Olivia and Alana and it’s a reminder that their father killed three people they all knew and loved, even if one of them was the girls’ mother. Give the poor things nasty eyes as if it’s their fault everything happened. People talk and stare and Olivia hears and sees it all and all she does is keep a smile and mind her own business and look after her sister. For someone who’s only twenty-two, she’s been doing an amazing job with Alana. I just wish people would let them be.” she sighed, a dismayed expression washing over her aged face. “That’s one of the harsh things about living in a place as small as Bridgelake—everyone knows everyone and when something like that happens, they never stop talking about it.”

That’s one thing he loved about Grams—and Gramps—that they were both laid back. They had done their duty with Calum’s dad, raising him to be the best he could be, which he did by becoming a successful entrepreneur who owned hundreds of hotels and banks around the world and was constantly attributing his career to his parents, and weren’t at all judgemental or strict or anything like that.

As Grams’ words settled in Calum’s mind, his hands clenched into tighter fists in the pockets of his jacket. Calum was used to having people talk about him, what with him being on every gossip site and magazine issue weekly, but that didn’t mean it didn’t annoy the shit out of him or that he enjoyed people staring at him as if he was an exhibit at the zoo. Some people, his parents sometimes included, thought he was purposefully getting drunk or high or caught doing the walk of shame from one girl’s house to another for the attention when in reality, he was just trying to live his damn life. But of course everyone needed a picture, needed a story to publish, and they were all about him being a party animal with girls hanging off each arm. Not too shabby, sure, but certainly annoying. Certainly the kind of person his parents weren’t too proud of.

He hated the tabloids talking about him—he was well aware he could just stopping putting himself into those situations but he just didn’t want to because he didn’t want to live by anyone’s standards but his own—and he wondered if that’s how Olivia felt with the people in this small-ass town gossiping about her. It was a horrible thing that happened, but it wasn’t her or her sister’s fault. How did everyone blaming them for it make any sense?

And when Grams told him how Olivia’s just kept her head held high in the face of the disapproval stares and plastered a smile on her face for the sake of her sister, told him how she tried to protect Alana as best as she could, Calum felt a twinge of guilt scratching at his gut. He knew he had come off as standoffish and rude towards Olivia. He may have a partying problem and Bridgelake may be the last place on Earth he wants to be, but Calum Hood wasn’t an asshole. At least, not to people who didn’t deserve it. And Olivia most certainly didn’t. Not when all she was trying to do was make a life for herself and her sister.

✩✩✩✩✩

Olivia shot her best friend, Addy, an exasperated look, who merely returned it with her blue eyes widening hopefully and lower lip jutting out pleadingly. But Olivia averted her gaze, cheek resting against her palm as she ate her Chinese food.

“Come on, Liv, you’ve got no plans and Alana has a sleepover,” Addy begged, sitting across from her at the small. They were both on their lunch break from work, sitting outside at one of the local Chinese restaurants under an umbrella to shield them from the mid afternoon sun. “We haven’t gotten dumb drunk in so long, it’ll be great!”

Olivia’s lips pursed, quirking an unimpressed eyebrow as she swallowed her spoonful of fried rice and orange chicken. “You’re not really selling that too well. I don’t wanna get dumb drunk.”

“Why not?” Addy pouted, her voice a high pitched whine that made Olivia’s lips twitch into a smile. “You’re literally going to be sitting in your living room binge watching Suits for the millionth time. If you ask me, getting drunk with your best friend sounds so much more appealing.”

“Not if Alana wants me to pick her up or something,” Olivia countered pointedly. When her sister was younger, she’d end up calling in the middle of the night because she couldn’t sleep anywhere but her own bed. But over the years Alana became better about sleeping over her friends’ houses, but Olivia would rather be sober for the night just in case Alana’s issues rose up against and she needed to be picked up. And since Uber wasn’t a big thing in Bridgelake and Alana hated bothering her friends’ parents, Olivia was her only ride.

Addy threw her head back with a groan, frustration with her best friend’s refusal of joining her nighttime outing. It’s not like she and Olivia didn’t hang out often—they always did, especially after Addy returned from school since she was a year younger—but their meetups mostly consisted of grabbing lunch or dinner. But Addy yearned for a fun girls night out at the local bar, which there weren’t many of because after her mom’s death, Olivia didn’t drink as often, especially when her sister was under her care.

Sure, Addy had managed to drag Olivia all the way to Charlotte for a concert a few months ago and left Alana under Claudia and Daniel Hood’s care, but Addy couldn’t help but miss her best friend. She was well aware that Olivia’s responsibilities had changed since four years ago, forced to grow up a lot quicker than everyone else their age, but Addy would be lying if she said she wasn’t a little bit selfish.

Glancing at Addy, Olivia felt her chest tighten guiltily at the disappointed expression on her best friend’s face, rolling her lips into her mouth as she thought for a moment. She hadn’t had a proper night out in a bar in a long time, always opting to drink some wine in her apartment with Addy or by herself, which irreversibly meant either Addy would have to find someone else to go with her to the bar when she wanted to or wouldn’t go at all, settling for a night in with Olivia and sometimes Alana. Addy, and her family, have done so much for Olivia and Alana; letting them stay with them when the accident happened and having them over for every holiday and anything else. Maybe one night at a bar wouldn’t hurt.

“Alright, fine,” Olivia relented as she put down her fork, and Addy’s head snapped up, eyes widening in anticipation. “I’ll go but I can’t promise getting dumb drunk. Maybe slightly tipsy, but not out of my mind, okay?”

Hours later, Olivia wasn’t regretting her agreement of coming to the bar with Addy. Alana had assured her she would be fine at the sleepover, and while it was a Thursday night, the bar was still busy. Temperance was one of the two bars in town, the other one being all the way by the shore towards the outer part of Bridgelake, so Olivia and Addy frequented and preferred Temperance because of its proximity. If Olivia was being honest, she’d say she liked when the dive bar was so busy; lots of people in town would be gathered there for drinks or a round of pool or something, and sometimes it made her think that they lived in a big city with so many people in there rather than a practical village.

And while Olivia wasn’t exactly a well-liked person in their town, she still enjoyed being around people, didn’t really shrink under their gaze. You know. . . So long as they didn’t scowl at her too much. Though, her smile was a trained mask that always remained to fool.

Music mixed from the seventies and eighties played through the speakers, joining in with the hum of patrons chattering and the clinking of pool balls, as Olivia and Addy sat in a small booth along the wall. They had taken two shots of tequila and while Grace was nursing a cosmo, Olivia had opted for a Bacardi and coke—though, heavier on the coke in an attempt to overtake the disgustingly bitter taste of Bacardi.

“Is he good looking, though?” Addy asked with a raise of her eyebrows, lowering her glass as the curious expression overtook her face.

Olivia had just finished telling her about Calum, since Addy had been out of town visiting her grandparents and Olivia didn’t really want to tell her about Daniel and Claudia’s visiting grandson over the phone. She preferred having in-person conversations. “Ridiculously,” Olivia answered truthfully, making Addy blink excitedly as she sat up. “Tall, dark curly hair, golden skin with tattoos. . .” Addy grinned widely, thrilled at this new man-candy that just landed in their boring town. “But he’s kind of, like, in a perpetual state of annoyance.”

Addy tilted her head to the side. “What do you mean?”

“Like,” Olivia paused, sucking in a breath as she tried to gather her thoughts and leaned back in the booth, hands outstretched to hold her glass. “I mean, I only saw him twice but both times he looked irritated as fuck. He looks like he’d rather be anywhere but here, honestly.”

Snorting, Addy raised her glass to her mouth once more, shooting Olivia a pointed look over the rim as she returned, “Can you blame him?” before taking a sip. “We live in Bumfuck, North Carolina.”

Olivia shrugged, her gaze wandering around the upbeat, packed bar that seemed to be lively with energy. “I’m used to it,” she mused.

“You don’t ever think of leaving? Living somewhere in a city with more than a schoolyard population?”

“I mean, if there’s an opportunity or if it’ll be good for Alana, then I’d be down to leave,” Olivia answered, returning her gaze to Addy’s blue eyes. “But I’m not actively looking to leave, you know? Can’t really afford it, anyways,” she added with a mumble as she brought her glass up. “Though, getting away from everyone here wouldn’t be the worst thing.”

Addy nodded in understanding as Olivia took a sip of her drink, thinking over her words which were honest and true. Bridgelake may not be the most popular or bustling town, but it was home, and she liked it here. Despite everything that happened, and despite the fact that there were some people around her that shunned her for her father’s mistake. She understood their anger, knew where it was coming from, but it’s not like it was her and her sister that poured the alcohol down his throat or forced him to get behind the wheel.

Nonetheless, there still was a small pool of guilt that he took the lives of two other people, yet some townsfolk seemed to forget that she lost her mother, too. And every time she thought about that—which was everyday—Olivia felt her throat tighten more and more until she couldn’t breathe.

But there were still people in town that still loved her, looked after and cared for her and Alana. Olivia didn’t mind living in Bridgelake, she had a comfortable life, but if given a good enough reason to leave, she wouldn’t let the opportunity slip by without sparing it a thought or two.

She chatted with Addy some more about mundane topics; their jobs, some gossip they read about their favorite celebrities online or the latest town gossip. Addy took another sip of her drink, feeling warmth pool in her stomach because that’s all she consumed, as her gaze flickered past Olivia and towards the door of the bar which just opened.

“Oh, hey, it’s Mr. Hood—oh, my God, that’s his grandson?” Addy demanded, her eyes widening and jaw slackening at the sight in front of her.

Olivia sat up at her best friend’s stunned expression and words, looking over her own shoulder and blinking in realization because, yes, Daniel Hood just walked into the bar with his tall grandson in tow. She watched as Daniel greeted a number of patrons at the bar, shaking hands and grinning before gesturing over to the looming figure behind him, most likely introducing everyone to Calum.

Who, in turn, nodded and shook hands in greeting, left hand still shoved into the pocket of his leather jacket yet a small smile curled politely at his lips. The lighting in the bar consisted of overhead lamps above each booth, lights on the bar and the ones above the pool area, and as Calum and his grandfather sat on the available seats on the side of the bar facing Olivia, she couldn’t help but admire how soft the glow of the yellow lights made his skin appear almost golden.

“Yeah, that’s Calum,” Olivia finally confirmed with a nod.

Addy turned to look back at Olivia, since she had turned in her seat to unabashedly follow Daniel and Calum’s movements as they sat behind her. Olivia wanted to laugh at the wide eyed, dropped jaw look on her best friend’s face. Addy looked absolutely stunned. “That’s gotta be the hottest guy I’ve seen in my life,” she stated, her voice a rushed whisper as she leaned forward on the table. She threw another look over her shoulder. “Holy hell.”

Letting out a laugh, Olivia took another sip of her drink, nodding her head along slightly in agreement. Addy wasn’t wrong—Calum was startlingly good looking. Olivia noticed some of the other women in the bar look over at him, his presence demanding to be acknowledged even by him merely sitting on a barstool. She never met anyone who just drew attention to themselves without meaning to, so effortlessly.

“He really does look like he’d rather be anywhere else in the world,” Addy added with a snort, leaning back in the booth. “He also looks kind of familiar, which is weird because I don’t think I’d ever forget a face like that.”

Olivia raised a confused eyebrow and looked over at Calum once again, taking in the indifferent expression on his face as his ring clad fingers wrapped around a bottle of beer, not even bothering to take part in the conversation his grandfather was having with the two men sitting with them. His dark eyes were lazily wandering over his surroundings, taking in the old movie and band posters on the walls and the shelves of liquor behind the bar, not looking particularly impressed with anything. As for why he looked familiar to Addy, Olivia had no clue, and neither did the girl herself. Where could she have possibly seen Calum before?

Narrowing her eyes at him, the words slipped out of Olivia’s mouth before she could stop them. “He looks like he’s got a stick shoved up his ass.”

Addy nearly choked on her drink, letting out a laugh as she covered her mouth with her napkin and stared at Olivia in amusement. Her best friend rarely ever said anything negative about anyone—especially when she knew first hand what it was like to hear people talking shit about her—so when Olivia uttered the smallest of insults directed at someone, Addy found it a lot funnier than it was. Ever since the accident and everyone giving Olivia and Alana the evil eye, Olivia did her best to ignore it and focus on the positives, especially to put on a brave face for her sister. Olivia was a sweetheart, and if anyone acted out with her, she would just put on a fake smile and move along. Wherease Addy would tell them to fuck right off and not look at her best friend and her sister like that again; sometimes she wished Olivia would stick up for herself more.

“He sticks out like a sore thumb,” Addy hummed, drawing her attention back to Calum.

Olivia agreed, eyes once again finding the dark haired man. She watched as he raised the bottle to his lips, taking in the sharp line of his jaw and the strong column of his throat as he drank the beer. He made a distasteful expression as he drank it, clearly not happy with the taste. Calum stood out in not just the way he looked but the way he dressed; everyone in Bridgelake’s attire consisted of summer shorts and tees because of the hot weather and humidity, along with truckers caps because of the popular rest stop just a few miles out of town. And then there was Calum, dressed in pants, expensive looking boots and a leather jacket that had Olivia’s body temperature rising just by looking at it.

Suddenly, as if feeling her gaze on him, Calum’s head ticked over a smidge, dark eyes meeting Olivia’s green ones from across the bar, causing her to straighten in her seat at the sudden eye contact. She saw the mild recognition flash across his face, brief and gone within a second, and she would be lying if she said she didn’t feel a bit surprised when Calum tipped his bottle towards her in acknowledgment before busying himself on his phone. It wasn’t much, but at least he greeted her in a way. It was something.

“You should talk to him,” Addy suggested, taking in that interaction and cracking a smile when Olivia stared at her in confusion. “What? You’re close with his grandparents and you’ve seen him, like, three times now.”

If anything, Olivia’s bewilderment intensified. “So that means I walk over and talk to him? He doesn’t look like he wants to talk.”

Addy shrugged. “Maybe he just needs a friend.”

Olivia raised an eyebrow, one corner of her lips curling up into a suspicious smile. “And that friend has to be me?” Addy shrugged as if to say sure, why not? Olivia rolled her eyes. “Not tonight. I’m here with you; I’ll befriend the moody Australian some other day.”

Addy grinned excitedly. “Promise?”

“Just finish your cosmo.”

✩✩✩✩✩

The shrill sound of Olivia’s phone ringing interrupted the sound of Brooklyn Nine-Nine playing on the television in the living room where Alana was watching it, and Olivia put her plate in the dishwasher before drying her hands and answering Addy’s call. “Hey, what’s up?”

“Hey, oh my God—I figured out why Calum seemed so familiar!” Addy’s voice rang through, not even bothering with a proper greeting.

Quirking an eyebrow, Olivia pressed the phone between her ear and shoulder as she loaded the dishwasher. If she was being honest, it had slipped her mind that Addy had commented that she recognized Calum the other day at the bar. “And why’s that?”

“He’s the son of David Hood!”

Olivia blinked. “Who?” Was that name supposed to mean something to her?

Addy clicked her tongue impatiently. “He’s the CEO and owner of Hood Tower Hotels! They own hotels and resorts around the world and are, like, super rich. Holy shit, I didn’t know Mr. and Mrs Hood’s family were a bunch of millionaires!”

Olivia prided herself in not letting the plate slip out of her grasp at Addy’s words, eyes widening in stunned surprise at this piece of information. Millionaires? If that was true, what the hell were Claudia and Daniel doing living in a town as small and insignificant as Bridgelake? Surely they had the money to live anywhere they wanted, and they chose this place? Did anyone else know about their family? Sure, it was none of Olivia’s business, but she would be lying if she said she wasn’t curious. She’s known these people for years and not once did they mention anything like this.

Though, she didn’t blame them, really. If Olivia or her family had that much money, she wouldn’t go around announcing it to everyone she met.

“There’s more,” Addy’s conspiratorial voice pulled Olivia out of her thoughts, making her quickly shut the dishwasher and dry her hands before leaning against the counter. “Apparently Calum’s gotten, like, a ton of articles written and pictures and videos of him partying it the fuck up. I’m talking, like, drunk off his ass, videos of him smoking pot and even, like pics and videos of him leaked by some girl he’d been hooking up with.”

Olivia’s mouth dropped, staring at the opposite wall of the kitchen where a square table for four sat in absent astonishment, processing Addy’s words. In the living room, she could hear Alana laughing at the show she was watching, oblivious to her sister in the midst of trying to process this information. Calum was from Los Angeles, Olivia knew, and from what Addy told her, it seemed like he lived that lifestyle in its full experience.

Honestly, it was surprising that that’s the kind of person Calum was. He seemed so withdrawn and quiet every time Olivia came across him that the fact he was that much of a partier seemed almost unbelievable. And he had pictures and videos of him leaked by some hook up? Olivia didn’t have to wonder what kinds those would be. If all of that, plus the drinking and weed, warranted for articles to be written about him that told the entire world of his activities, then Olivia couldn’t help but feel bad for Calum. He was a young adult living his life—he shouldn’t have to be judged for any of that by the world. She knew what it was like to have eyes and whispers follow you everywhere you go, but it was a whole new level in Calum’s case.

Was that why he kept to himself since arriving here? Olivia wondered if his life being exposed to everyone made Calum Bridgelake’s new recluse. But then Addy told her how right before Calum arrived to town, there had been articles and pictures concerning him getting kicked out of some restaurant for drunk and disorderly behavior. So it seemed that Calum wasn’t as much of a hermit as he was presenting himself to be.

Safe to say, Olivia’s curiosity and confusion regarding the Australian only intensified.

Moments later, Alana’s footsteps came running into the kitchen as she called, “Olivia!” The elder of the two turned around, Addy still on the line, as Alana held her phone up. “Mrs. Hood just called me—she said she tried calling you but the line was busy.”

“Oops,” Addy said on the line.

Olivia raised an eyebrow. “What did she want?”

Then Alana grinned excitedly, bouncing on her heels. “She invited us over for dinner tonight. Said she’s gonna make a trifle for dessert!”

The thought of having dinner at Claudia’s house brought a smile to Olivia’s face, but then she suddenly remembered the new guest living in that house and Olivia’s mouth dried slightly. Addy gasped, seemingly having the same idea as she needlessly pointed out, “Oh, my God—you’re gonna have dinner with an L.A. boy!”

✩✩✩✩✩

Familiar brown eyes stared back at Calum, full of a warmth and happiness that had him wondering if it was still there. Did people still see those things when they looked at him now, as opposed to when he was a young kid, like in this picture? He, for some reason, found himself lingering in the hallway of his grandparents’ home near the staircase, having just used the bathroom and absently stopping in front of the wall that had many pictures hung up.

They were all of his grandparents, aunts and uncles, parents, cousins, his sister and himself. The photograph Calum was currently staring at was one of himself, probably around four or five in age and a wide grin on his chubby cheeks, sitting on his grandfather’s lap. For the life of him he couldn’t remember when or where the picture was taken, but he still found himself smiling at it. He’d been here for nearly a week now, and hadn’t even stopped to look at the pictures until now.

“You know. . .” A hesitating, familiar voice sounded, prompting Calum to glance to his right where Olivia had entered the hallway. She and her sister had arrived to a dinner his grandmother had invited them to, which apparently wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. Calum regarded her for a moment as she neared, pretty in a casual pale yellow sundress and a denim jacket on top, until she came to stand next to him. She was so much shorter than him, which was different, because a lot of the girls Calum knew back at home came up at least to his eyes or something. Olivia barely grazed his shoulders. “For a town as small as this one, you’re pretty good at hiding out. Are you trying to be the new Bridgelake recluse because we already have one. His name’s Mr. Dobrosky; he lives next to the public library and tries to steal books from the drop-off box.”

Oh, my God—seriously? Olivia tried not to cringe. Did she really have nothing better to talk about than poor old Mr. Dobrosky and his sticky fingers? In her defense, she didn’t know what to talk about with Calum because even though Addy had filled her in on some of his activities back in California, that didn’t mean she knew him as a person—just what he got up to with his friends. Olivia was just trying to do what Addy had told her to: befriend him. But she doubted comparing him to Mr. Dobrosky was going to help her in that case.

But, much to her surprise, Olivia watched Calum shrug his broad shoulders lightly, eyes trained on the pictures in front of them. She followed his gaze. How had she not connected that one of the little boys in the photos she’s seen a hundred times was him? In a low, cool voice Calum responded, “Not much to do around here that makes me want to leave the house.”

Olivia tilted her head to the side slightly. “How do you know what’s there to do if you don’t leave the house?” she countered with a life of a perfectly plucked brow, her tone taking a challenging, playful lilt to it that even surprised herself.

Brown eyes flickered to meet green as Calum turned to face her properly, tilting his head and answered her question with one of her own, “What is there to do in this small town?”

“Lots of things,” was Olivia’s instant reply, trying not to get too excited over the fact that Calum finally said more than three words to her, allowing her to hear a bit of his accent. He was quiet, contrary to what Addy had informed her of his partying habits, and that somehow made Olivia want to hear from him. “There’s a movie theater and an old drive-in theater that still runs, a bunch of parks that are good for jogging, the beach, a lake where you can go canoeing, the library—”

“Where Mr. Dobrosky tries to steal books from?” Calum cut her off with a quip, a smirk curling at his lips as he raised his eyebrows at her. His gaze was fixed on her face and the way she pressed her lips together to suppress the smile threatening to appear.

Olivia, on the other hand, picked up on the mirth dancing in his dark irises, feeling strangely giddy to see something other than casual indifference he’d been sporting since she met him. He was joking around with her, kind of. “Yeah,” she affirmed, letting go of her fingers behind her back and gesturing absently with one hand. “Charlotte’s also only a couple hours’ drive from here; there’s lots of museums there and lots of musicians come for their tour to the Music Pavillion and The Fillmore.”

She hoped she didn’t sound like some kind of pressuring weirdo, telling Calum all the things he could do. That wasn’t strange, right? She was just being friendly, like Addy had suggested for her to do. No harm in informing Calum of the places he could go to while he was here, right?

Apparently Calum didn’t think so as he lifted his chin a little. “D’you go to lots of concerts there?”

“A couple, yeah,” Olivia answered with a nod and a small smile. “I went to see The Weeknd a couple of months ago with my best friend. It was fun but. . .” She trailed off with a small shrug. “Coming back home was rough.”

Calum’s thick brows furrowed. “How come?”

Olivia’s eyes were trained on the photographs on the wall in front of them, taking in the familiar pictures of Claudia and Daniel’s family. Something in her heart tugged, remembering all of the pictures she took with her sister and parents before everything went to shit, and a ghost of a sad smile tilted her lips. “I don’t really like being away from Alana for too long. Your grandparents watched her while I went but I wanted to get back as soon as the show was over. Except showing up at their doorstep at four in the morning seemed like a dick move.”

She chuckled nervously—why did talking to Calum make her nervous?—as she thought of that night a few months ago. The concert had ended around half past midnight and she and Addy had driven to Charlotte for it. Addy was exhausted and wanted to stay at a motel for the night, even though Olivia wanted to get home for Alana. But Addy reminded her that traffic would be awful, and by the time they’d get back to Bridgelake it’d be four in the morning. So Olivia reluctantly stayed in Charlotte, sending Alana a text that she’d see her in the morning. She hated leaving her sister for too long. Their parents were gone, and Olivia didn’t want Alana to feel any kind of loss again.

Honestly, Olivia panicked over the distance between her and Alana before giving her little sister a chance to.

Then Olivia wondered if Calum knew about her parents, knew if she was Alana’s legal guardian, and quickly explained in case he didn’t, “It’s just the two of us so, like, I’m not fond of leaving her that much.”

There. That was straightforward and to the point, right? She didn’t care if Calum asked about her parents, it was public knowledge, and while she was ashamed of her father’s actions and she missed her mom so fucking much, that topic of conversation wasn’t taboo. Sure as hell wasn’t for the people of Bridgelake.

But Calum didn’t ask, not when he already knew the answer. Not when he already knew Olivia’s mum was dead because of her father’s mistake and that she and her sister were practically social pariahs in this town. His jaw clenched at the thought, especially when he thought of the fourteen year old he could hear giggling in the living room with his grandparents. Neither of them deserved this.

For a strange moment, Calum wondered where Olivia worked, if her job provided enough for her and her sister. Calum was never one to hold down a job—why would he even need one, with how much money his family has?—and he wasn’t interested in much. His parents—despite sending him across the country for his behavior—weren’t hard asses and didn’t expect Calum or his sister to take over the family business someday, so he didn’t have to worry over that. He used to play soccer in high school until that merely became a hobby and something he was good at, and was admittedly interested in music. Both in writing and producing it, and in that moment he cursed himself for not bringing his guitar or bass with him to North Carolina. Maybe he could ask his parents to send it over.

But money had never been an issue for Calum, and when he recalled the portion of the conversation between Olivia and his grandmother he heard at the shelter the other day, of her not being able to afford something for Alana, Calum felt a stab of sympathy. He never had to worry about not being able to afford something.

“Dinner’s ready, everyone!” His grandmother’s voice sounded throughout the house, and soon enough everyone was gathered in the dining room.

Gramps at the head, Olivia and Alana on one side and Calum sitting across from Olivia next to his grandmother on the other. The aroma of the food was delicious, effectively watering Calum’s mouth at the side of the pasta, rice, chicken and salad his grandmother had made. The first bite was as amazing as he figured.

Dinner conversation began almost immediately. “So, Livvy, how’s the boutique going?” Gramps questioned, causing Calum’s gaze to flicker up. Livvy? Were his grandparents really that close with Olivia and Alana?

“Pretty good,” Olivia answered with a smile. Guess that answered his pondering of her job. “We’re actually looking to expand, probably buying Mr. Bernard’s space next door.”

Gramps hummed in appraise and Calum watched as Alana nudged her sister. “Tell them about your promotion.”

Grams’ eyebrows raised at that. “Promotion?” she perked up, an excited glint in her eyes.

Olivia rolled her eyes, shooting Alana a look. “It’s just a rumor right now,” she told Calum’s grandparents with a small chuckle. “Apparently Val’s firing Heather and I’m the next choice for manager.” Calum noticed the way his grandparents both looked pleasantly surprised at this news as Olivia quickly emphasized, “But nothing’s been said yet. They’re just rumors, so I don’t know.”

She looked and sounded modest, as if she didn’t really believe that those rumors she was speaking of were true and that she would get the job. But Calum hadn’t missed the hopeful tone in her voice, and apparently neither had his grandfather as he scoffed, waving his fork. “Not promoting you would be a mistake on their part. You’re their hardest working employee and you, my dear, deserve it.”

Olivia rolled her lips into her mouth, though she was unsuccessful in hiding the smile as she dropped her gaze to her plate, cheeks pinkening. One glance at his grandparents and Calum knew they believed what Gramps said wholeheartedly, and Calum understood in that moment, answering his own question from seconds prior, that his grandparents’ relationship with the two sisters sitting across from him was a lot deeper than he figured. Grams and Gramps treated them the same way they treated him, and Calum instantly realized that they saw the two girls as family.

His gaze flickered to Olivia, saw the easy smile on her face as she conversed with his grandparents, and felt his own lips curl upwards a bit.

He hoped she would get that promotion.

✩✩✩✩✩

Sunday mornings consisted of Olivia waking up just around sunrise, freshening up, changing into her work out clothes and leaving the apartment. Alana was sound asleep, wouldn’t be up until noon, so Olivia walked the short distance to the nearby park where she did her Sunday morning jogs. With music playing in her ears, she began jogging on the path, the area empty as usual, just as she liked it. It was a cool morning for June, thanks to the beach just a few miles away, and the thin layer of sweat on the back of Olivia’s neck by the time she completed three laps was a bit chilling.

Olivia slowed to a stop to catch her breath, heart pounding in her chest as she took a few long gulps from her water bottle, the cool liquid thoroughly rejuvenating her dry throat. She squinted slightly, looking off in the distance; less than a handful of people were on their morning runs as well, some of them familiar to Olivia because of their similar routine.

Reaching to pull her phone out from the pocket of her thin hoodie, Olivia let out a small grunt of annoyance at the tangled headphones. Pausing the music, she pulled them out to begin the tedious process of untangling them, giving her a chance to hear a familiar voice call, “Bruno, slow down, bud!”

Before Olivia could even hope to register the voice, a familiar German Shepherd came running up to her, prompting Olivia to let out a startled gasp before she giggled joyously at the dog licking at her chin, his front paws on her chest to keep himself up as he showed her some love.

“Hi, buddy,” Olivia greeted Claudia and Daniel’s dog, fingers of her right hand tangled around her headphones while her left rubbed at Bruno’s face. “Whatcha doing out and about?”

This was the first time she’d ever seen him out at this time, but her question was soon answered as someone jogged up to them and that same familiar voice breathed out, “Sorry about him.” Olivia glanced away from Bruno, eyes landing on Calum standing right in front of them, wearing black athletic shorts and a green hoodie covering his large frame. “Didn’t expect him to run off like that.”

Olivia laughed lightly as Bruno got off her chest, circling between her and Calum’s feet before settling on the ground, peering up at them with dark eyes. She smiled at him before looking at Calum, taking in the way a few curls peeked out from under the black beanie he wore. “It’s okay,” she assured. “I’m never opposed to Bruno’s kisses.”

Calum chuckled, sliding the beanie down a bit at the back of his head. His eyes took in Olivia’s face as she smiled down at Bruno; her ponytail high and tight with few tendrils slipping out to frame her heart shaped face, cheeks slightly flushed pink from her running and face free of makeup. He would be lying if he said she didn’t look unadulteratedly pretty like this.

“So you took one of my options into consideration, hmm?” Olivia hummed, a smile tilting at her lips as Calum raised his eyebrows. “Looks like you found something to do here.”

Realization dawned on Calum as he let out a short laugh, remembering the dinner the other night when Olivia had listed off a bunch of things he could do in Bridgelake—going to the park being one of them. And she’d been right; Calum had woken up early this morning, annoyed that his eyes opened right when the sun was rising, and out of nowhere he remembered Olivia mentioning a bunch of parks around. So he brought Bruno to the nearest park and here they were—running into the very woman who practically motivated Calum out of the house.

“I did,” Calum conceded with a nod, the smile easily remaining on his face. It seemed almost effortless, to relax in front of Olivia. She seemed so open, so comforting; Calum found himself forgetting that he didn’t want to be in this town, that he was forced here, when she was there. Which was kind of head spinning and bewildering, but Calum didn’t seem to mind. “It helps that I’ve got good company,” he added one hand reaching down to rub at Bruno’s head.

“See?” Olivia smiled, tightening her ponytail. “How often did you get to do this in Los Angeles, huh?”

Not often, Calum realized. He preferred going to the gym he’d been a member of for years, because while he didn’t mind going on a hike every now and then, Calum found himself feeling more relaxed in a weight room than he did out on a jog in a park. Especially because there were often times where the paparazzi would spot him and while getting his picture taken outside of a club was one thing, Calum wasn’t fond of being photographed while he was going for a jog. So he didn’t.

“L.A. isn’t as bad as you think, you know,” Calum found himself saying, feeling strangely, or not so strangely, defensive of his hometown, his favorite place.

Olivia raised her eyebrows, not deaf to the protective lilt his voice took. “I never said it was bad,” she countered lightly with a slight tilt to her head. “I’m just saying—there’s probably things you could do or find here that you wouldn’t be able to in a big city like L.A.”

Calum couldn’t help himself. He let out a droll snort, rolling his eyes at Olivia’s words because he was having a hard time believing her. “Yeah? Like what?” he challenged, his slight accent lifting the last word a bit.

The attitude that he presented when she first ran into him at Walmart was shining through, Olivia noticed. Like being in Bridgelake was the worst possible thing that could happen to him, and she had foolishly hoped that he would no longer feel that way anymore. It’s been, what, two weeks since he’s been here? Shouldn’t he start warming up to the idea of having to be here for a couple of months? Olivia didn’t see what the big deal was, but she wasn’t one to be vocal about it.

So Olivia shrugged, hands on her hips. “Maybe if you got out of the house more, you’d see what a small town has to offer.” Then, with an almost conspiratorial grin, she added almost teasingly, “They can have just as much magic as your big cities, you know.”

But Calum wasn’t buying it as his chin lifted a bit. “I doubt it.”

“What’s the harm in trying to find out?” Olivia hummed with a single shake of her head, raising an eyebrow, not entirely deterred by his skepticism. “You’re stuck here, whether you like it or not, right? Why don’t you try to make the most of it without whining over L.A.?”

Calum’s eyebrows shot up, lips parting as he scoffed. “Excuse me?” he returned, unsure if he’d heard her right. Her tone wasn’t unkind but it most definitely made him sound like a brat, and Calum didn’t appreciate that. He crossed his arms over his chest defensively. “I don’t whine.”

He was getting worked up, Olivia could tell, and while she wasn’t one to purposefully push people’s buttons, she would be lying if she said it wasn’t amusing seeing Calum get all tensed over something so mundane. “You look like you do,” Olivia retorted. “It’s obvious you don’t want to be here. Do you ever think about how that might make Claudia and Daniel feel?”

She touched a nerve, she knew, when she saw Calum’s face tighten and jaw clench, and she’d be intimidated if it weren’t for the fact that she’s been facing people’s angered, near disgusted expressions thrown towards her for years. And while she hadn’t really meant to annoy Calum, Olivia didn’t recoil from his scowl. She was used it. After a while, you just become immune to others’ distaste of you.

Truthfully, Olivia was a bit disappointed Calum was one of those people who gave her that look, even if it wasn’t for the same reason. Somehow a stranger looking at her that way stung more than it did when people she grew up in town did it to her. But she didn’t let it show. She was good at that.

“My grandparents have nothin’ to do with this,” Calum stated firmly, the way his arms crossed over his chest combined with his hoodie making him appear bigger than usual. “I’m happy to be with them.”

“You’re not very good at showing that.”

Calum scowled, unafraid of showing his irritation. He liked Olivia, thought she was sweet and kind and undeserving of whatever treatment people in this town may give her. But who the hell was she to say something like that to him? To just assume he wasn’t glad to see his grandparents? Bridgelake wasn’t his ideal vacation spot, sure, but being with his grandparents was definitely a plus point. So what if Calum wished they were together in Los Angeles rather than North Carolina? It was just a matter of preference.

He tilted his head, almost mockingly, asking with a sarcastic tint in his voice, “Then what d’you reckon I do?”

“Be appreciative of what’s around you,” Olivia answered simply because, to her, it really was simple. She’s faced enough loss in her life, dealt with too many people’s shit for too long to not be happy for what she does have. She misses her mom every day, hopes to keep her memory alive for her sister, and her cheeks often hurt from the forced smile she shoots towards those who are blatantly rude to her. But for Olivia, it always comes down to being grateful for what she has in front of her.

Honestly, things could’ve gone to even more shit than they already were with their mom dying and dad being imprisoned. Olivia could’ve shut down. But she had a younger sister to look after, one who she was solely responsible for, and Olivia wasn’t about to let anything or anyone tear them apart after the losses of their parents. She was grateful for still having Alana, and while living in a world where their mom wasn’t around and their dad was in prison and half the town hated them for what he did, Olivia was glad she was still around. Glad she still had her sister, her best friend, and people who still cared for them.

Upon hearing her words, Calum blinked, face relaxing and tension in his shoulders easing somewhat. He watched as Olivia squinted slightly, the early morning sunlight filtering through the trees and bathing her in a golden glow, blue eyes glinting against the light, giving her irises an almost golden sparkle of their own. And even though Calum was bothered with her insinuation that he didn’t like being around his grandparents, he couldn’t help but think how pretty she looked in the morning sunlight.

“I’m not saying you don’t enjoy your grandparents’ company,” Olivia spoke up once more, as if reading his thoughts. Or, well, part of his thoughts as her blue eyes locked with his brown. “I’m just saying. . . I’ve seen you out with them a few times already and each time you look miserable. And, like, I get it—Bridgelake is no L.A., but you can have just as much of a good time here as you can there. If you give it a shot, that is.”

There was logic behind her words, Calum knew. He also was aware that every time he ventured out with his grandparents, he wasn’t the most willing participant. Being with them was something Calum was up for, but every time he stepped out of the house he was struck with the fact he wasn’t in California and Calum could physically feel his body slump at the reminder. The city boy in him was probably never going to get used to the small town aesthetic Bridgelake wreaked of.

Still, Calum lifted his chin a little, arms still crossed over his chest as he defiantly told the blue eyed girl, “Show me.”

Olivia blinked, bewilderment flickering across her features with furrowed brows and confusedly pouty lips. “What?”

Calum’s gaze briefly glanced at her mouth, pink and inviting, before he averted it half a second later. It wasn’t the appropriate time—or thought?—but Calum couldn’t help but think how unfair it was that Olivia had such inviting lips and he couldn’t kiss them. He quickly refocused on his thoughts as he met her confused stare with a challenging one. “Show me how to have a good time in Bridgelake,” he dared with a shrug of his shoulders. “It’s not gonna happen being by myself. I need someone to keep me company.” Then, with a boyish smirk, Calum teasingly clarified, “I need someone to show me the magic of Bridgelake.”

Her lips parted at his words, not entirely expecting Calum to request—or demand, she wasn’t entirely sure about that—her to show him around. Olivia certainly remembered listing off a bunch of things for him to do in Bridgelake, but she didn’t think he’d want her to come along with him.

Gazing at Calum, Olivia’s throat worked as she saw the quirk of his brow and tilt of his lips. He looked both smug and challenging, and Olivia felt her cheeks heat up against his stare. A person should not have that much of an effect on another human being just by the way they were looking at them.

But still. . . Olivia lifted her own chin slightly, regarding Calum for a moment before finally agreeing, “Alright.” Both of Calum’s eyebrows shot up. Had he not expected her to agree easily? This time, Olivia offered an easy smile. “Are you free tonight?”

Calum scoffed through the smirk dancing on his lips. “What do you think?” he asked, sarcasm tinting his slightly accented tone. As if he had any other plans here.

Olivia’s heart thumped in her chest. “Then tonight it is.”

✩✩✩✩✩

“It’s a date.”

“It’s not a date.”

“Alana’s right; it’s totally a date.”

Olivia shot an exasperated look towards her best friend and younger sister, who were both sat giggling on Olivia’s bed as if they were a bunch of middle schoolers. Well, Alana was, at least. But both Alana and Addy were teasing Olivia the entire time she got ready for her outing with Calum which was not a date, like the two of them were so convinced it was. And them constantly calling it a date didn’t do anything to ease the nerves swimming in her belly.

It was just a habit of Olivia’s, getting a bit nervous around boys, and it most certainly didn’t help that Calum was most definitely not the average boy she’d see around Bridgelake. He was the epitome of the tall, dark and handsome package and while Olivia found it dumb that she had the potential of getting anxious around someone that good looking, she couldn’t help it. Especially because the point of this night was to prove to Calum that he could have some fun in a small town, and Olivia hoped what she had picked out was going to be enough to at least start pushing him in the direction of seeing Bridgelake in a positive light. Not just as a prison.

“Stop calling it that,” Olivia huffed as she put her lipstick in her bag. She hadn’t done her makeup too heavily, and her outfit consisted of a baby blue romper and a denim jacket in case it got cold. “People only go on dates if they’re interested in each other—which we’re not.”

Addy scoffed with a roll of her eyes, dismissing what she considered Olivia’s negativity. “You never know,” she argued, leaning back against the headboard with her legs stretched out in front of her. With a comically suggestive wiggle of her eyebrows, she added, “Maybe he’ll find the magic of Bridgelake in you.”

Olivia didn’t know whether to cringe at Addy’s words or shoot her a glare because she knew her best friend most definitely did not mean that in an innocent way, and while Alana wasn’t a baby, the mere topic of her own sex life in front of her sister wasn’t something she was too comfortable with.

Thankfully, Alana swooped in as she shot Addy a distasteful look. “You sound like a crappy Hallmark card.”

Addy shoved Alana as Olivia let out a laugh, wholeheartedly agreeing with the fourteen year old. Looking back at the older brunette, Addy asked, “Where are you guys going, anyway?”

“The Orbit,” Olivia answered, brushing the ends of her hair as she stood at the foot of the bed, facing the two sitting on it.

Alana sat up excitedly. “That’s cool. What play are they putting on?”

“West Side Story,” Olivia replied with an unamused snort, because the play of choice wasn’t too surprising. Every summer, putting on West Side Story was a must. The Orbit was an outdoor theater, where anyone interested could sign up to put on a play or act in it throughout the summer. They were all really good, in Olivia’s opinion, since she’d been going since she was a kid. She particularly enjoyed the town’s adaptation of Mamma Mia! which has been her favorite musical for as long as she could remember.

“What if Calum doesn’t like plays?” Addy asked as Olivia put the brush away.

Olivia paused for a moment. She’d thought of that, but she had told him she would show him how to enjoy the small town things, and the plays The Orbit put on always brought a smile to Olivia’s face. She hoped it would do the same for Calum. She shrugged. “He’s just gonna have to suck it up.”

But, really. Olivia hoped he liked plays. Or this could already start off bitterly.

✩✩✩✩✩

Once he pulled his grandfather’s truck into a vacant parking spot, Calum killed the engine before hopping out of the vehicle. He closed the door behind him, furrowed brows looking ahead and around him as he took in his surroundings, turning to lock the car. Slowly, almost unsure, Calum walked over the curb and towards the area where he saw most of the other people around headed towards. There was an entrance where Calum noticed people behind booths were sitting, and he realized it’s where tickets were being sold and bought as a line of people gathered there before moving on to the few steps that led down to where they could be seated.

He shoved his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket, the gravel and road crunching under his boots as he slowly made his way over, unsure of where he was supposed to go. Calum’s dark eyes gazed around in hopes of finding the woman he was meant to meet, passing over the few curious looks being thrown his way. It definitely was a small town by the way some people were looking at him, unsure of who the hell he was.

Meanwhile, Calum was left wondering where the hell Olivia was. He obviously didn’t know about this place when she texted him, and so he had asked Grams, who had told him that The Orbit was one of the more popular locations in Bridgelake. She told him of the plays that were put on here, and Calum wasn’t going to lie—he was kind of interested. He didn’t go to any plays in California, only less than a handful of times when he went to New York to visit his sister, but those were Broadway productions.

He highly doubted he’d see the same level of sophistication at some outdoor theater in Bridgelake, North Carolina.

“See—that’s the face I was talking about.”

Calum blinked, looking around before his gaze went to the left where he saw Olivia approaching him. Immediately he took her in, her blue outfit and loose hair and killer legs before her words registered and he frowned in confusion. “What face?”

Olivia scoffed as she reached him, shaking her head a slightly to move away some locks of hair. “The I’d rather be anywhere but here face,” she countered with a knowing quirk of an eyebrow, as if she could read him easily. Calum bristled. She didn’t have to be so smug about it.

“I’m not wearing that face,” he defended, pursing his lips because even he could hear the bullshit in his voice. Honestly, he hadn’t meant to look like that; he may never have been to something like this, but Calum did find himself wanting to be here with Olivia. It was nice of her to hang out with him—she was a nice girl—and the least he could do was not look like he didn’t want to be here with her. He didn’t want to send that kind of message. “Just—” he huffed before glancing around and asking, “What’re we watching?”

Olivia pulled something out of her purse, Calum’s eyes catching sight of two tickets as she smiled. “West Side Story. Hope you like Romeo & Juliet adaptations,” she hummed while walking past Calum.

He had no choice but to follow after her, his long legs allowing him to easily catch up to her in two strides before falling in her pace, hands still in the pockets of his jacket. As they stood in the line to show their tickets, Calum asked, “How’d you get tickets so quickly?” They’d only been talking this morning.

Olivia shrugged. “I know a guy,” she answered vaguely before biting her tongue. She almost added on, Not everyone in this town hates me, but stopped herself. This was most definitely not the time or place to be self pitying.

Calum quirked an eyebrow, finding her words strangely amusing as the line moved up. “That sounds suspect,” he pointed out, peering down at her with the smallest of smirks tilting at his lips.

She let out a light laugh as she looked up from the tickets, the lights around The Orbit making her blue eyes glitter. The line moved quickly, and as one of the guys working there scanned their tickets, Calum asked, “Do you come here a lot?”

“Whenever there’s a play I really wanna watch,” Olivia answered with a nod as they moved forward. The seats, Calum realized, was that similar to stadium seating, and before they moved to find theirs Olivia glanced at him. “Do you want anything to eat or drink?” she questioned, jutting her chin to something behind him.

Calum glanced over his shoulder, just then catching sight of a small canteen where people were gathered if they weren’t already in their seats. It wasn’t too far, and Calum’s eyes took in one of the signs pasted on it and his eyebrows rose. “They’ve got milkshakes?”

“Mhm,” Olivia hummed with a smile, and not for the first time did Calum notice the way her prominent cheekbones rose at the action. “What flavor do you want? You can get to our seats and I’ll get them.”

“Chocola—wait, no—” Calum frowned. “You got the tickets, the least I can do is get the food.” He knew this was both of their idea, in some way, and if Olivia bought the tickets then it was only fair he spend some of his own money on something.

But Olivia shook her head, her smile turning teasing as she took a step away. “My town, my treat,” she grinned. “Our seats are seven and eight in row eleven. Towards the bottom,” Olivia added, nodding down the steps before swiftly turning around and making her way towards the canteen.

Calum’s lips parted to protest, but she was gone in the growing crowd and he let out a breath. Pressing his lips together, Calum absently made a mental note that next time it would be coming out of his pocket—assuming there was going to be a next time—before proceeding to make his way down the concrete steps.

It wasn’t that big, unsurprisingly. Calum was pretty sure there were more seats on his high school football field back in California. He walked down the steps, looking at the numbers of the rows on the ground, ignoring the few looks he could be felt getting thrown his way. It helped that he was used to being stared at, though he knew that this time it was different. Eyes weren’t following him because he was the son of David Hood; they were on him because he was a stranger in this town, an unfamiliar face amongst those who’ve grown up together.

But it didn’t phase Calum. He found their seats, shuffling past those already seated before plopping down in the seventh seat, the one to his right available for Olivia. Rubbing his hands down his pants, Calum noticed they had a good view of the stage up front, almost in the middle, curtains drawn as people continued to find their seats. Glancing up at the sky, Calum noticed it was mostly clear, just a few clouds drifting here and there and hiding the stars that glittered above, and he let out a sigh as he leaned back in the seat.

He busied himself by texting his friends, all of whom told him both that they missed him and jokingly added they liked not seeing his face every day, and Calum smirked to himself. He missed them, too.

Soon enough, Olivia made her way over and Calum glanced at her, catching sight of the two plastic cups of milkshake she held as she walked over. She caught his eye, offering a smile that Calum found himself returning almost instinctively, sitting up as she came over. But his eyes drifted as she shuffled down the narrow aisle, landing on the few people, mostly middle aged women, sitting a few seats away to Calum’s right, their narrowed eyes following Olivia as she made her way past them.

His eyebrows twitched into a frown, watching as the women looked at Olivia while they whispered amongst themselves, reminding Calum of a bunch of high school gossipers and his lips curled into a sneer. It was obvious they were talking about Olivia, obvious that whatever they saying couldn’t be good, and Calum was about two seconds away from standing up and asking them what the fuck they were saying.

But then Olivia reached him, the easy smile still on her face as she held out one of the cups. Calum’s dark eyes left the women, who were now looking at both of the with raised eyebrows, probably wondering what he was doing with Olivia or she with him or what the fuck ever, and he looked up at the blue eyed girl. He took the cup from her instantly, taking in the pink in her cheeks, wondering why she was flushed, as she sat down.

“Thanks,” Calum told her, taking a sip of the chocolate milkshake. It was really fucking good.

“No problem,” Olivia answered nonchalantly, almost too casually, as she fixed her bag on her lap, gaze straight ahead purposefully.

Don’t look. Don’t give them the satisfaction. But she couldn’t help herself. Olivia glanced to the right, eyes landing on the same women Calum noticed, pulling her lower lip into her mouth as they looked away just when they saw her looking. How fucking hard was it not to be so ridiculously obvious you were talking about someone just a few feet away? Olivia inhaled deeply yet quietly. Calum only noticed because he’d been staring at Olivia unashamedly, and his jaw tightened when he saw her glance down at her lap, lips pursed.

He wanted to say something; tell her that people were assholes and that she shouldn’t have to deal with them. But Calum wasn’t sure if Olivia knew that he knew of how some people in Bridgelake treated her, if she wanted him to know the whole story about her parents and the town even though he already did. How was he supposed to comfort her over something he wasn’t even sure he was supposed to know?

“D’you know any of the people starring in this?” Maybe he could opt to distract her instead.

Olivia glanced at him before looking back at the stage. “A few,” she answered with a nod. “A girl I went to high school with, Raechel, plays Maria and my best friend’s cousin, Barry, plays Riff.”

Calum blinked at her, before his lips curled into a smirk and he raised an eyebrow. “You realize I’ve no idea who any of those characters are, right?”

She returned his gaze, shorter than him and an arm rest separating them yet their shoulders brushed every so often. Olivia let out a laugh, the sound widening Calum’s grin, as she picked up her milkshake. “I’ll point them out, don’t worry,” she assured.

“And explain to me what’s going on?” Olivia shot him an exasperated yet playful look and Calum shrugged defensively. “What? I’ve never seen this before.”

“If you ask me questions every two minutes I’m going to dump your milkshake on you. I promise.”

Calum clicked his tongue, shooting her a mocking disapproving look. “I don’t think that’s gonna help you show me how fun Bridgelake is.”

Olivia sank in her chair as she caught his smirk widening, her cheeks flushing at the sight of it as she pressed her lips together to suppress the growing smile. Calum wasn’t aware of it, but Olivia was grateful that he managed to distract her from the eyes she could feel piercing her skin. She glanced at him, watching as his lips wrapped around the straw as he drank his milkshake, and Olivia forced herself to look away as the heat in her cheeks intensified.

She took a deep breath, sipping her own milkshake. Fun. Right.

✩✩✩✩✩

Olivia was trying to fight off the smile from growing on her face as she raised her eyebrows at Calum, who was staring out the window as he sat across from her, fingers tapping the tabletop as his head nodded to the song he was humming. The play had just ended and the two of them were at a nearby diner for a late dinner, and Calum was shamelessly humming the tune of I Feel Pretty after having just heard it at the show they attended.

Much to her relief, Calum seemed to enjoy the play a lot, his eyes following every character on the stage with focused interest and head bopping to the songs being performed, curls lightly bouncing at the movement. And now as they waited for their food, Calum still had that song playing in his head and while satisfaction coursed through Olivia’s veins, the fond smile won over as it graced her lips, gazing at the man sat across from her in the booth.

He looked her way then, taking note of her raised eyebrows and curled lips, and Calum was suddenly aware of what he was doing as he instantly stopped humming and leaned back in the booth. “It’s a catchy song,” he half-heartedly defended, uncharacteristically feeling his face warm at the look Olivia was giving him.

“I know,” she laughed lightly, the bright lights of the diner dancing against her blue eyes. Olivia leaned forward, arms folding on top of the table as she asked, “I’m guessing you liked the play, then?”

“You can say that,” Calum responded, willing himself not to be embarrassed because, really, there was nothing to be embarrassed about. Honestly, he really did enjoy the play, and the performance put on by everyone was amazing. Bridgelake, Calum concluded once the show was over, had some pretty talented people. “Thank you for bringing me to see it,” he found himself adding sincerely, the corners of his lips tilting upwards.

Olivia’s head tilted slightly, her smile widening at the sincerity in his tone, utterly contrasting the indifferent yet bored expression she often saw him wear. “You’re welcome,” she said just as the waitress returned with their food.

Calum’s burger and fries were placed in front of him while Olivia’s grilled chicken sandwich and curly fries instantly watered her mouth, and the two of them dug into their food while the Top 40 songs played throughout the semi busy diner. Things fell quiet between them for a few moments, though it wasn’t an uncomfortable one as they enjoyed their food and, Calum had to admit—his burger was one of the best he’s had.

As he took a bite of his fries, Olivia couldn’t help but muse, “How can you pick regular fries over curly ones?”

Calum paused in his chewing, holding the uneaten halves of his fries as his gaze snapped towards her. When he saw the unimpressed raise of her brows and the small smirk on her lips, Calum let out a short laugh. “Are you judging me on my choice of fries?”

Olivia gave an unapologetic shrug of her shoulders. “I don’t trust anyone who picks regular fries when they have the option of getting curly ones.”

Amusement danced in Calum’s dark eyes as his lips formed an O and he released a mocking offended breath. “Now you’re just hurtin’ my feelings.”

She laughed before taking a sip of her drink, and Olivia couldn’t help but think how easy this felt. Her nerves had been prickling under her skin when she’d been driving over to The Orbit, over thinking if Calum would want to watch a play or if he’d enjoy it, but they had fun. Admittedly, Olivia had kept glancing over at Calum, taking in his reactions to what was happening on stage, and each time she was relieved to see that he looked so into it.

But her grin soon diminished as the door of the diner opened and in walked the three women that had been sitting in their row at The Orbit, the same women who’d been unashamedly been whispering about Olivia when they saw her. She knew of them—Mrs. Dixit, Mrs. Shaw, and Mrs. Rizzo—and was painfully aware that they were just three of many people who weren’t fond of her. So Olivia’s smile vanished as she drank her soda, watching as the women were seated at a table in the middle of the diner a little ways beside them, where she had a perfect view of them and they had one of her.

As per usual, Olivia did her best to pay them no mind, ignoring the looks she could feel them throwing her way every now and then as she ate her dinner and made light, easy conversation with Calum.

And she thought things were going fine, would be fine, until Mrs. Dixit’s voice consisting of a fading Indian accent flowed over. “I heard they’re replacing that poor Heather with her. They’re risky, aren’t they, for hiring her in the first place? Now they’re making her manager?”

Mrs. Rizzo scoffed distastefully. “They’ve lost my business.”

“I stopped going there the day they hired the Moore girl.” Olivia winced at Mrs. Shaw’s haughty tone, eyes casting towards her nearly finished plate, hoping Calum hadn’t noticed the rigidness in her shoulders. Of course he had; she just missed the way his eyes darted in the direction of the women after Olivia broke their gaze.

His eyebrows twitched into a frown, not oblivious to the discomfort Olivia didn’t succeed in hiding as he looked at the three middle aged women. It was kind of ridiculous, how a couple of women their age were so openly and unashamedly talking about Olivia as if she wasn’t even there, not at all perturbed by the fact that she could hear them. They were doing it because she could hear them, Calum figured, and his grip on his glass tightened, rings slightly scraping against it. How pathetic were they to talk about someone younger than them, as if they were a bunch of teenagers in high school taking part in cafeteria gossip?

Olivia glanced up at the sound, eyes going from Calum’s tight grasp on his glass to his face, mildly taken aback at the glare she saw on his face directed towards the women a few tables over. She hadn’t expected him to look so annoyed, eyebrows scrunched into a scowl. “Calum—”

“Why’re you just lettin’ them talk about you like that?” He spoke up at the same time, the muscle in his jaw jumping as he finally looked back at Olivia once more. The irritation in his dark eyes was surprising and, ironically, comforting. His brows were drawn downwards, shaking his head once. “Why don’t you just say somethin’?”

She stared at him for a moment, mouth drying at the curious yet confused look in his demanding eyes. Truthfully, Olivia hadn’t expected Calum to speak up about the women, didn’t think he cared enough to pay attention. Swallowing the dryness from her throat, Olivia answered, “It’s not worth it.”

Calum gaped at her, the irritation being completely replaced with bewilderment. Not worth it? Was she serious? “So you’re just. . .” His eyebrows twitched into a frown just like his lips. “You’re gonna let them disrespect you like that for no reason?”

Olivia inhaled sharply before surprising herself by blurting, “They have a reason.”

And then Calum surprised her even more by countering, “I know the reason. ’S not justified.”

Her eyes widened slightly, this time it was her turn to stare at him disbelief. He knew? What exactly did he know? Most of the town’s dislike for Olivia wasn’t news, it wasn’t a secret, but Calum wasn’t from here and she was hoping that everyone’s opinion of her wasn’t going to morph his opinion of her. It would’ve been refreshing to have someone new who didn’t judge her for someone else’s tragic mistake. “What do you—”

“Grams told me,” Calum confessed with a sigh, a familiar expression crossing his face, one Olivia knew too well. Sympathy. She suppressed a sigh of her own—she hadn’t wanted to see that on Calum’s face. But he leaned forward, arms crossed on the table as his gaze remained locked with hers. “And I agree with her; it isn’t right that you and your sister get judged for something you had no control over.”

Olivia’s lips parted at that, at the sincerity on his face emphasized by the determined frown on his face, like he wanted her to believe his words, shown in the emphasis each word he spoke carried. If Calum found out about Olivia’s family through his grandmother, then no doubt he got the real story rather than some twisted version she knew a bunch of people in this town would have no problem spewing. Some people were disgusting enough to contort the events of that night to say that her father purposefully killed those people in the accident. Yes, it was his fault for driving while he was drunk, something he should have never done, but the way some people spoke of it, it would be easy to assume by their words that it was premeditated. He had made an awful, horrific decision to drive under the influence, something even Olivia herself would never forgive him for, but had to endure the aftermath of.

Calum’s defense of her was kind of surprising, but Olivia was appreciative of it. They didn’t know each other too well and only knew about her situation through Claudia’s words, yet the look in his eyes was determined enough to show her that he was on her side. And Olivia felt her heart swell at that. Playing with her crumpled napkin, she kept her gaze on it as she quietly told him, “If I say anything back, they’re just going to be more annoyed and hate me more than they already do.” She hated that she let out a tired, defeated chuckle at that before shrugging. “Like I said—it’s not worth it.”

He didn’t understand as he took in her downcast blue eyes and the purse of her naturally pouty lips, staring at her with his own lips slightly parted. Calum was the kind of person who, if he ever heard someone talk badly about himself or his family or his friends, wouldn’t hesitate to go on the defense. He knew he couldn’t change everyone’s minds and opinions, but he could let them know he wasn’t going to take their shit.

It almost disturbed Calum that Olivia wasn’t willing to do that for herself.

The waitress came by to drop off their check and before Olivia could even think to reach for it, Calum swiped the small black folder right up. “Wait, no—it’s my treat,” Olivia argued, trying to reach for it from across the table.

Calum merely placed it on his lap, pulling out his wallet and placing the credit card inside the folder without even checking the bill. “You paid for the play and the milkshakes,” he pointed out, lips curling into a small smirk. “Least I can do is pay for dinner.”

She stared at him, lips pursed and bemused, but Calum merely smirked wider when the waitress returned for it and he handed it to her without breaking from Olivia’s gaze. Calum chuckled as he reassured, “Next time you can pay for the food.”

“Oh?” Olivia quirked an eyebrow, feeling some of her previous playfulness creep back as she tilted her head slightly. “So there’s gonna be a next time?”

Calum huffed out a laugh. “After tonight, you’re my official tour guide. I don’t have any other friends here to show me around Bridgelake.”

Both of them were smiling, teasing and maybe even a little bit flirty if Olivia squinted, enough to make her heart flutter because he had such a nice smile. Calum’s cheeks would push up and depending on how much he was smiling there would be crinkles by his eyes, only adding to the adorability of the expression. A much better look, a wonderful difference, than when he barely made any expressions when he first arrived.

“We’re friends now?” Olivia countered, enjoying the banter with a smile. She didn’t have that many friends, only Addy whom Olivia adored the company of and would never get tired of, but she had to admit—a new person’s company was always welcome. Especially when it was someone like Calum.

“Like it or not,” Calum shrugged before thanking the waitress once she brought back the folder so he could retrieve his credit card.

Olivia chuckled as she gathered her purse and the two of them stood up as Calum put the card back in his wallet and then dropped a twenty dollar bill on the table for tip, Olivia’s eyebrows shooting up at the sight because she knew the tip was almost as much as the actual bill. Damn. Glancing at Calum, she sarcastically mused, “I’m honored.”

Calum stood by his side of table so Olivia could walk past him towards the door, and as she did he joked, “I’m honored you’re honored,” earning another laugh from him as she shook her head and kept walking.

He smiled after her. Before following Olivia’s steps, Calum couldn’t help but glance over at the table a few feet away from him, occupied by the women seated there. Unsurprisingly, they were looking over this way, their judgmental gazes burning holes in Olivia’s back before simultaneously—creepily—their eyes shifted over to him. One of them offered a smile while the other two looked at him with expressions mixed with curiosity and coyness, the second not at all in regards to the obvious age difference between them. He was used to older women sending him those kinds of looks—he was from Los Angeles, after all.

And his mother raised him to be respectful of those older than him, and for the most part Calum was. But as soon as the three of the women looked at him, Calum couldn’t help the scowl he sent their way, triggered by the rude words and glares they sent Olivia’s way. They all immediately recoiled, almost affronted yet discouraged, and looked away from him, and the satisfied smirk tugged at Calum’s lips as he fixed his jacket and Olivia out of the diner. He wasn’t afraid to give those women that look if he saw them again.

Easily catching up to Olivia, they walked together in a comfortable silence towards the parking lot that was between The Orbit and the diner they were just at, the night breeze cool and inviting, and a fruity scent suddenly invaded Calum’s nose. He realized it must be Olivia’s shampoo or something, inhaling softly, subtly, because it just smelt so good.

They reached Olivia’s car since Calum silently decided to walk her to it, and as she unlocked the door she faced Calum. Before she could say anything, Calum shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket and said, “Thank you, Olivia, for tonight.” The street lamp above made his dark eyes glimmer. “I really did have a good time.”

Olivia couldn’t fight the smile as she looked up at him. His curls swayed slightly in the mild breeze, the glow of the light above softening his features. “Enough to change your opinion of Bridgelake?” she asked with a tilt of her head. She knew it wasn’t going to take just a theater show to make Calum fall in love with Bridgelake or something, but she still wanted to get a feel of what he thought.

Calum let out a breathy chuckle, bowing his head as he did so, his curls brushing across his forehead before he lifted his head and smirked at Olivia. “Slowly,” he agreed and Olivia’s smile widened. “Might sound crazy to say but I kind of already prefer The Orbit than Broadway.”

Olivia’s jaw hung with a disbelieving scoff, staring at Calum incredulously before she waved him off. “Alright, psycho, I somehow doubt that,” she laughed, earning another laugh from Calum as he argued, “I’m serious!”

She shook her head in amusement as she stepped aside to open her car door. “Whatever you say, Mr. California,” she responded with a roll of her eyes, giggling at the bemused look he sent her way at the nickname.

“Drive safe, Olivia,” Calum chose to say instead of retorting, smiling fondly at the blue eyed girl.

Then, to her surprise, he pulled his left hand out of his pocket before pulling her in for a one armed hug, and Olivia’s eyes widened as her cheek was pressed against the cool leather of his jacket. But she relaxed in his embrace, in the mesmerizing scent of vanilla, leather and something that seemed like a wonderful mixture of wood and flowers as she returned the hug, unable to stop the smile from growing from her face. How fucking cute. “Goodnight, Calum,” she returned softly, before reluctantly pulling away from the tall man.

Calum smiled at her, stepping back to allow her to get in the car and as he shut the door behind her, Olivia let out a breath as she put her bag on the passenger seat and reached for the seatbelt. He stood by as she started the car, and Olivia sent him a smile and a wave as she pulled out of the parking spot, smile widening as he raised his hand in response.

Olivia couldn’t help but glance at her rearview mirror as she drove off, watching as Calum’s standing figure became smaller and smaller until she had to make a turn, and she let out yet another breath. The smile was still on her face, grip on the steering wheel tightening as the giddiness bubbled in her stomach, only intensifying when Calum’s I’d rather be anywhere but here face hadn’t made an appearance after she called him out for it at the start of the night. Not because he had been actively trying to keep it off his face, but because Olivia could tell he was genuinely enjoying himself, much to her fluttering excitement. She was definitely down to do this again.

✩✩✩✩✩

Calum was more of a night owl than a morning person. He enjoyed staying up at night but he also appreciated his sleep, hating when the sun came up to start a new day. And he especially hated it in Bridgelake, when every other day there would be one neighbor or another of his grandparents’ who was mowing their lawn, the roar of the lawn mower jolting Calum out of his sleep practically every other day.

Safe to say, he started most days in a shitty mood.

Rolling out of bed reluctantly, Calum sat up and ran his fingers through his messy curls, a tired sigh escaping him before grunting as he stood up. Pulling on his sweatpants, Calum didn’t bother with a shirt as he used the bathroom before heading to the kitchen, the scent of eggs pulling him to where his grandparents already were. His grandfather sat reading the newspaper while eating his eggs, while his grandmother drank her tea and read whatever she was reading on her iPad.

“Morning, sleepy head,” Grams greeted, just like every other morning, as she smiled fondly at the sight of her sleep ridden grandson. “There’s coffee in the pot.”

Calum mumbled his thanks as he poured some for himself before sitting down next to his grandfather, across from his grandmother as he propped his elbows on the table and took a long sip of the steaming drink. He was quiet in the mornings, which wasn’t unusual, and drank his coffee and ate the pancakes that were left for him as a way of getting energy to brave the day.

Not that he had any plans.

He was still at the table when his grandparents got up to gather their things before walking back into the kitchen, frowning at them in confusion. It was Saturday and the pet shelter didn’t open for another few hours, and his grandfather didn’t have work either. But upon noticing Calum’s expression, his grandfather let out a chuckle. “We’re going for a friend’s birthday up in Wilmington. I told you about it a couple of days ago, bud.”

Calum blinked before his memory stuck, nodding as he recalled being told something like that. “We’ll probably be back around the late evening, so you’re on your own,” Grams teased as she picked up her purse and followed Gramps to the door. “Oh, by the way!” Calum glanced at her over his shoulder as his grandmother sweetly smiled at him. “Mind making a trip today to Olivia’s boutique? There’s some things I ordered that should be ready for pick up and the store’s going to be closed tomorrow. Make sure you go before closing at nine, alright?”

Then they were gone, before Calum could even offer up a response. He leaned back in the chair with a huff, eyes falling to Bruno, who sat on the floor staring up at him with dark eyes. Guess it was just him and his dog for the day.

✩✩✩✩✩

It wasn’t until around noon did Calum leave the house and go to run his grandmother’s quick errand. He knew the name of the boutique and knew the name of the street it was on, so it wouldn’t be too hard to find it. Since his grandparents took his gramps’ truck, Calum was left with Grams’ station wagon, and it took him a minute to adjust the seat since his grandmother was significantly shorter and with the settings she had, Calum’s knees were practically up to his chin.

The drive wasn’t long—not that any drive from one location in Bridgelake to another was more than fifteen minutes—and Calum parked the car along the sidewalk before hopping out and pocketing the keys. Calum really hoped Olivia was at the store, but his grandmother had texted him that he could just ask anyone that he was there to pick up stuff for her.

He walked into the boutique called Moonflower, blinking at the store. Everything was split into color coordinated sections, each containing only clothes and accessories of specific colors, which Calum found kind of cool. A woman by the door chirped out a greeting and Calum shot her a quick smile before making his way towards the back where he could see was the register.

It was fairly busy in the store, women of all ages looking about and a few men here and there, and Calum was nearly to the front when he heard a familiar voice call, “Calum?”

He let out a sigh of relief when he caught sight of Olivia and her pretty blue eyes, shoulders sinking as she made her way over to him. She was dressed in dark blue jeans and a black blouse tucked in, complete with a small headset, and Calum was aware of the brief thought that flew by in his mind—a thought that couldn’t help but acknowledge how cute she looked in her uniform.

“Hey,” he greeted her, the smile coming to his face a lot more easily than he thought. “How’re you doin’, Olivia?”

He hadn’t seen her for a few days, since their outing the other night, but the two still texted. She was the only person, other than the boys back home, that Calum came to regularly texting, and he found himself really enjoying her company, whether it be in person or virtually. Olivia was one of the few people in Calum’s life that knew how to keep a conversation going, that was interested in what he had to say and Calum couldn’t help but return the sentiment.

“I’m good,” she smiled, blue eyes glinting under the bright lights of the store before she asked, “What brings you here?”

“Oh, uh, I’m here to pick up something for Grams?” he told her, his answer coming out as a question, wondering if Olivia could help him out. Hoping that she could. “She said she ordered some stuff and that I could just come by and pick it up for her.”

Realization dawned on Olivia as her lips parted. “Oh, yeah, right. Give me a second, yeah? I’ll go get it from the back.”

Calum nodded as Olivia walked around him, heading off to the back of the store as he lingered about. He looked around, noticing the store had practically everything that a boutique did, his eyes on a bunch of scarves and accessories. Calum’s fingers trailed over the soft fabric of the scarves and he looked at the designs for the cell phone cases, wondering if his mum or sister would want something of the sort. It got cold in London. Maybe he could buy a scarf for Mali.

As he waited, Calum’s eyes happened to trail over to a rack of socks, chuckling to himself at the designs on the unisex socks. His eyebrows raised as he caught sight of a pair of blue socks with dogs printed on them, with the furry animals wearing a beanie and glasses, and Calum found himself picking up a packet of those kind and grinning at them, finding them to be the most amusing and best things ever.

“Here you go.”

Calum jumped slightly, hastily putting the socks back on the rack as he turned around, catching sight of Olivia standing there with a Moonflower bag, missing the curious look that flashed across her face. “Oh,” he blinked before taking it from her, smiling as he added, “Thanks, Liv.”

The nickname just slipped out of his mouth, something she was commonly known by but not used by Calum, and for some reason he found himself strangely worrying if she would be okay with that. Some people were weird with nicknames like that.

But then he saw the soft smile on her face, one that even though it was subtle it still emphasized her cheekbones, and Calum couldn’t help but smile back, feeling his neck warm. Jeez—since when did he blush because of a girl? Olivia just smiled and Calum found himself wanting to smile back without pretense.

“So what’re your plans for today?” Olivia asked casually. She knew she should be getting back to work, especially with the promotion just about being handed to her, but walking away from Calum seemed so. . . Unappealing.

Calum raised his eyebrows, his smile turning into a smirk as he mused, “Why? Got another adventure planned?”

Olivia let out a laugh, a sound so pretty to Calum’s ears, enough to make his heart pick up a pace or two. “Depends on your answer.”

He chuckled before shrugging. “Nothing, as usual. Grams and Gramps are in Wilmington for the day and won’t be back ‘til late. So it’s just me.”

Olivia pouted her lips in thought, prompting Calum’s gaze to almost immediately flicker to her mouth, feeling his throat tighten at the sight of her pink lips. Get a fucking grip, man, he chided himself. “Wanna come over to my place for dinner?” Olivia asked, surprising Calum. “Alana and I order tons of food most Saturday nights and have movie marathons. You’re more than welcome to join.” She added with a grin, “It’s not as much of an adventure, but my sister and I are pretty good company.”

A rush of gratitude flooded Calum at that, and not for the first time since the night of seeing the play did Calum feel fortunate to have found a friend in Olivia. Sure, he still didn’t leave the house as much because she was busy with work and he had no one else to hang out with, except for when he took Bruno out on walks or accompanied his grandparents on errands, but Olivia was there, too. Maybe not physically, but they were texting whenever she could, since her schedule was a lot busier than Calum’s.

Maybe he should get a job.

Calum pushed back a snort. Not likely.

“Sure, if you and your sister don’t mind,” he found himself answering, smiling as Olivia’s grin widened.

“Not at all,” she grinned, her face lighting up with that smile of hers. “I’ll text you the address. Come by around, like, six or seven.”

He nodded and Olivia was bidding him goodbye since she had to go back to work, and Calum found himself leaving the boutique with a smile that only Olivia seemed to be able to bring out in him. And it was strange and maybe a little bit crazy, Calum knew, how one girl could somehow so easily change his attitude when he came to Bridgelake with one as moody and bad as his.

There was a little voice in the back of his head teasing him about Olivia’s words, about the magic of Bridgelake. That same voice was telling him maybe it was all Olivia. Calum pushed it away. He truly sounded crazy.

✩✩✩✩✩

“Oi! What happened to you promising me the last breadstick?”

Alana grinned unapologetically after swallowing the smaller piece of cheesy bread whole, shrugging innocently at Calum as she hummed, “You snooze, you lose.”

“You can’t trust her around your food, Calum,” Olivia said as she wandered back into the living room, a bottle of beer in each hand before handing one to Calum and settling down next to him on the couch. “She’ll steal it right off your plate. Sometimes even off your spoon.”

Calum shook his head in amusement, his grin widening when Alana snickered from where she sat on the floor. The younger girl then grabbed the TV remote, switching over to Netflix so they could find the first movie of the night they were going to watch. Calum had been over for about an hour now and their food had arrived from the local pizza place around twenty minutes ago, and they already finished all the cheesy bread before even picking the first movie.

He felt immediately at home in Olivia’s apartment, big enough for her and her sister with a joint yet open living room and kitchen space with a hallway leading down to where the girls’ bedrooms were. There were many pictures around the house of the girls with their family, and Calum had felt his heart tug in his chest at the smiling pictures of Olivia and Alana with their parents. He couldn’t imagine how they lived with a dead mother and imprisoned father, and with the smiles he’d seen on their faces so far already, he never would’ve guessed the girls had been through hell.

And with the horrendous way some people in this town treated them with, how they still went through with it with smiles.

He took a sip of his beer, sitting tucked in the corner of the three seater couch, right arm on the arm rest and left draped over the back of the couch, when Alana turned her head around to shoot her sister a wicked smirk. “You know what tonight’s theme is, don’t you, Livvy?”

Calum glanced at the older girl, catching the wary expression cross her face. “No. . . What?” Olivia asked hesitantly, her gaze flickering back to the screen and Calum saw the way her face fell. He followed her gaze, saw that Alana had stopped at the horror/thriller section of Netflix, and heard Olivia let out a groan. “Can we not, please?”

“Nope,” Alana happily chirped, scrolling through the options.

Calum quirked an eyebrow at Olivia, whose shoulders had sunk and face fell, and she saw him looking at her as she huffed. “I hate horror films.”

He smirked, amused. “Never would’ve guessed,” he responded, sarcasm tickling his voice as Olivia rolled her blue eyes and muttered for him to shut up.

“Oh, wait, I know!” Alana suddenly yelled, making the other two jump in surprise as the fourteen year old got to her feet. “Oh, my God I know exactly what we can watch!”

She ran off down the hall, bare feet thudding against the floor as Calum and Olivia stared after her with raised eyebrows until Olivia sighed, “I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”

“I’m sure it won’t be too bad,” Calum assured her, laughing into his beer bottle when the blue eyed girl shot him a deadpanned look. Then, cheekily, Calum shot her a wink as he said, “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you.”

Olivia’s cheeks heated up at his playful words, unsuccessfully hiding her smile in her own bottle as she took a sip, and Calum could tell because he saw the way her cheeks turned up. He felt almost satisfied, knowing he could make her blush.

Alana ran back into the room and without saying anything to either of them, went up to the TV and turned on the DVD player before putting in whatever movie she brought from her room. Olivia and Calum watched, the former a lot more apprehensive than the latter, as Alana switched the channels, and Olivia let out a groan when the words Sinister appeared on the TV.

“Oh, my God—I’m going to die,” Olivia breathed, her eyes wide. She knew of this movie, had seen the trailer for it when Alana played it for her when she was trying to convince her sister to buy it for her. Unlike Olivia, Alana loved scary films. Whether they were trashy, melodramatic horror or full-fledged horror films that left people having nightmares. And just how Alana loved them, Olivia didn’t see any difference in any of them—they all scared her.

Olivia only bought her sister the movie because she knew Alana wouldn’t stop bitching about it, and because she knew her sister never had nightmares about horror films. But Olivia could barely get halfway through the first time Alana tried to get her to watch it with her, and she knew she wasn’t going to be any less scared now.

To make matters worse, Alana excitedly turned off the lights, enveloping the room in complete darkness save for the glow of the TV, and Olivia swallowed the tight lump in her throat as her sister hit play before sitting comfortably on a floor cushion with her back against the couch Olivia and Calum occupied.

Quickly, Olivia finished off the rest of her beer, knowing the potential jump scares were either going to make her spill the drink or choke on it, and put the empty bottle on the coffee table. Calum and Alana were happily munching away on the pizza, and Olivia wasn’t sure if she should even try to pick up a slice, too nervous for any potential scares that would come her way. She really fucking hated scary movies, and of course the universe would give her a little sister that thrived off of them.

At least Ethan Hawke was in the movie. He was hot.

Of course, that wasn’t entirely enough to make Olivia enjoy the movie. In fact, nearly half way through it, she brought her knees up to her chest and faced her body to the arm rest, back to Calum, cheek resting on her knees and hands brought up to cover her eyes to watch the movie through her fingers. There had been a few scary scenes already with that creepy monster thingy the movie revolved around, and the very sight of it freaked Olivia out.

And when another home movie started playing in the movie they were watching, where the music got loud and intense and downright terrifying because people were dying in it, Olivia closed her eyes and pressed her forehead against her knees, truly unable to watch it. She dismissed the fact that she was probably acting like a big baby, with Calum sitting right there, because she couldn’t help it. She was going to kill Alana for this.

The music was still loud, telling Olivia that the scene was still going on, and she let out a gasp when she felt a hand on her left side, quickly looking over her left shoulder—away from the TV—to see Calum reaching over for her. She stared, surprised, as he offered her a smile and gestured for her to come over.

Olivia took in a deep breath, her heart pounding—most definitely not from the movie anymore—and quickly turned, refusing to look at the TV as Calum kept his arm outstretched for her. She shifted towards him, feeling her cheeks warm up as his arm then moved around her shoulder, and Olivia was suddenly enveloped in Calum’s warm embrace with her knees still brought up and face pressed against his chest, cringing when the music grew more intense, hoping to calm herself down when she inhaled Calum’s familiar vanilla scent. It brought her a wave of comfort, especially when she felt his hand rub her arm and his chin rest atop her head to keep her from looking, knowing that she didn’t want to unless the truly frightening parts had passed.

All the while, Olivia wondered if Calum could feel her quickening heart—just like she could feel his under her ear.

Olivia would be embarrassed that Calum had to comfort her during a movie night she invited him to, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. Being in his embrace unexpectedly brought her solace that surpassed the terror the stupid movie brought. So instead of feeling like an idiot, Olivia welcomed the comfort Calum was giving her, reveling in the softness of his shirt and his familiarly pleasant scent and his warmth.

When the music from the movie died down, Calum lifted his chin from her head and murmured, “Alright, you can look now.”

Taking a breath, Olivia chanced a glance at the TV, seeing Ethan Hawke’s character talking to a police officer and she let out the breath she just inhaled. Instead of moving away from Calum, she found herself staying close, resting her cheek against his chest and watching the movie, ready to look away if something freaky began happening.

She completely missed the smile growing on Calum’s face at her closeness, but didn’t miss the way his heart was a steady, happy beat under his chest. It may or may not be because of her, but it definitely brought a smile to her face.

After the God forsaken horror movie ended, with a jump scare at the end neither Calum nor Olivia saw coming, resulting in her letting out a short scream and an amused laugh from both Calum and Alana, Olivia demanded they watched something heartfelt and light. No way was she going to bed with that movie being the last thing she watched.

They ended up watching one of the Scooby-Doo movies—which, although it wasn’t a scary film, still had Olivia and Calum sitting right next to each other, sides pressed and welcoming the warmth each other provided. Neither moved, neither wanted to move, away, and Olivia was finding it difficult not to let her lips break out into the smile they desperately fought for.

By the time they were done, it was a little after eleven at night, and all the food and jump scares had tired Olivia out. So the three of them cleaned up the living room, ridding of the empty boxes and putting the dishes into the dishwasher.

“Thanks for coming, Calum,” Alana smiled at the man as he put on his shoes. “It was really fun—you should come again next week.”

Calum playfully narrowed his eyes at her, sitting up straight and shrugging on his leather jacket. “You gonna steal my food next time?”

Her grin widened, not at all innocent, bringing a smile to Calum’s face as she shrugged. “We’ll see.” When Olivia returned from her room, having excused herself to grab something, Alana gave Calum a hug. He was surprised, but returned the gesture with a soaring heart as Olivia smiled at them. “See you later, Calum. Goodnight!” Alana chirped happily before turning and running down the hallway.

Olivia smiled after her sister, her hands behind her back as Calum chuckled softly. “She really likes you,” Olivia told him as they walked towards the door. “Thanks for joining us tonight.”

“Thanks for inviting me,” Calum returned with a genuine smile as he opened the door. Honestly, he really was grateful that Olivia welcomed him here, included him in a night for her and her sister. He would probably be bored out of his mind at the house if he just stayed there, so being around Olivia and Alana was definitely a step up. Calum found himself enjoying their company—he already knew he liked hanging around Olivia, and he found himself adoring Alana and the utter spunk the young girl carried. “I had fun.”

“Me too,” Olivia nodded before letting out a sheepish laugh. “Even if I was using you to hide from the first movie. Thank you for that,” she added, her cheeks once again warming as she recalled his strong arm around her, the occasional soft words he’d whisper to assure her that it was okay. She felt like a baby needing all of that reassurance, but coming from Calum. . . Olivia found her thoroughly enjoying it.

“And as my thanks,” Olivia began once more, pushing back the thoughts of her and Calum’s proximity, her grin widening as she brought her hands around from behind her back, “I got you something.”

Calum’s eyebrows shot up as he caught sight of the lavender Moonflower bag, letting out a scoff of a laugh as he took it from the grinning brunette. “What’s this?” he asked, dipping his left hand into it. When he pulled it out, Calum let out a louder laugh as he caught sight of the blue socks with dressed dogs on them, the very socks he’d been eyeing at the boutique earlier today. “No way.”

Olivia’s grin widened at the sound of his laugh and wide smile on his face. “Don’t think I didn’t see you eyeing those bad boys,” she teased, clasping her hands behind her back. “Honestly, if you weren’t going to buy them for yourself, I totally was.”

His heart was light, the smile on his face easy and genuine because how fucking great was Olivia? The socks were dorky and adorable and Calum loved them, and he was absolutely surprised that she had managed to see his interest in them and decided to act on it. This gift wasn’t at all necessary, but the mere thought of it had Calum’s body igniting with genuine gratitude.

“Thank you, Olivia,” Calum laughed, grinning at the socks before putting them in the bag. He then brought his free arm up, and Olivia stepped into his embrace as her arms wrapped around his waist. Calum’s eyes closed at their closeness, her flowery scent making his heart race. “You’re absolutely incredible.”

Her blush intensified, cheeks probably resembling tomatoes as she modestly joked, “I try, I try.”

They pulled away and Olivia too a steadying breath, shoving her hands in the pockets of her loose sweatpants as she smiled up at Calum, fingers itching to brush back the few curls swooping across his forehead. Her heart felt as though it was about to fly out of her chest with the way his dark eyes were looking at her, as if he was taking her in, and she honestly prided herself for her legs not giving out beneath her. How was anyone supposed to stand upright when Calum was looking at them like that?

Suddenly there was a sound of a phone beeping, and Calum had to force himself to look away from Olivia as he pulled his phone out, seeing that he had a text from his grandmother, asking when he’d be home. “I should get going,” Calum sighed, looking back at Olivia, the soft smile returning. “Thank you for tonight. And this,” he added, lifting the bag slightly.

Olivia returned the smile, nodding along. “No problem,” she told him earnestly as Calum stepped out in the hallway. She held the doorknob, leaning against the door as she hopefully asked, “Text me when you get home?”

It was a short drive, Olivia knew, one she’s made hundreds of times. But a chance to talk to Calum again even after he left her house from being there for hours? Olivia didn’t want to pass it up.

Neither did Calum, it seemed, as he smiled and promised, “Of course.”

tags: @irwinkitten @glitterprincelu @sweetcherrymike @meetashthere @valentinelrh @astroashtonio @hereforlukescruff @calsangel @novacanecalum @captain-what-is-going-on @txcobell @angelbbycal @singt0mecalum @hopelessxcynic @lfwallscouldtalk @bodhi-black @findingliam-o @softlrh @calntynes @calumsmermaid @erikamarie41 @quintodosuniversos @longlastingdaydream @babylon-corgis @lukehemmingsunflower @spideyseavey @imfuckin10plybud @liviibi123 @pastelpapermoons @malumharmonies @conquerwhatliesahead92 @rotten-kandy @metangi @neigcthood @ohhmuke @old-zeppelin-shirt @5sos-and-hessa @trustmeimawhalebiologist @vxlentinecal @pettybassists @vaporshawn @lu-my-golden-boi @heartbreak-5sos @visualm3nte @isabella-mae13 @dontjinx-it @lifeakaharry @neonweeknds @antisocialbandmate @ixcantxdecidexwhosxmyxfave @calpalbby @grreatgooglymoogly @sunnysideblog @cocktail-calum @miahelizaaabeth @madelynerin @dramallamawithsparkles @hzi0 @aulxna @mermaiden004 @theagenderwhocriedwolf @kaytiebug14 @hoodskillerqueen @bitchinbabylon @empathycth @xhaileyreneex @inlovehoodx @calistheloml @aestheticrelated @bloodlinecal @sublimehood @madbomb @raabiac @britnicole11

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vibranch · 4 years

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Pairing: Leon x Rinoa Heartilly / Squall Leonhart x Rinoa Heartilly Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Word Count: 7,327 AO3 Link Here

Summary: Leon's solitary patrol through Traverse Town was supposed to be just that, solitary. But after some consideration, he doesn't object when a local of the town asks to accompany him. Trained by Merlin, a mage like Rinoa should be a great asset. But opinions flare about how best one should heal each other.

AKA: The, no doubt, long awaited reason why Leon has never been shown having a cure spell cast on him.

Leon leaned over the small brick wall separating the Accessory Shop from the rest of Traverse Town’s First District. He was bathed in the warm orange glow from the nearby lamps as a cool breeze chilled his skin. Taking long deep breaths with his eyes closed, Leon soaked in the Town’s atmosphere as he mentally prepared himself for rest of the coming night.

Leon’s Heart was still raw from the pain of having to flee Radiant Garden. He couldn’t forgive himself for what happened. He wanted to know how to make things right. Multiple times a day, he would wrack his brain for an answer, but none would ever come.

After a couple weeks on Traverse Town, he was nearly ready to accept there wasn’t a way to make things right. But if there was, then he figured protecting this town was a good way to start.

Traverse Town was lucky. It may have been home to many refugees from the Heartless’s rampage, but the actual threat of the Heartless coming here was small. Leon figured they were too busy chasing after other Worlds to bother coming to Traverse Town. Or maybe, despite their mindless nature, they didn’t care to bother with their own leftovers.

That was fine with Leon. Even with the usually low appearance of Heartless, Leon had dreaded this night ever since he volunteered to watch the streets for signs of Heartless activity. But it wasn’t injury or the appearance of the Heartless that he dreaded so much. It was the possibility of what came after that made his Heart hammer harder in his chest. He wanted to prove to himself, to others, to someone or something that mattered, that Radiant Garden’s fall wasn’t his fault.

But wasn’t it? As far as Leon knew, he and Cloud had been the only ones fighting to make it off World. Surely, if he had managed to escape and survive, that meant he could’ve given more to the defense of his home.

Right…?

Leon shook his head, trying to shake away these invasive thoughts from his mind. They were unhelpful and probably untrue, but the thoughts would still come for him every now and then. And Heart still felt weighed down at the possible answer.

“I heard you were going to go on patrol tonight.”

The words cut through the chilly air, taking Leon by surprise. He turned around to see one of the locals of Traverse Town, a young woman named Rinoa Heartilly, standing behind him. She’d become a not too uncommon observer of his, occasionally watching as he shadowboxed with his Gunblade in the secret Cavern underneath Merlin’s House.

Leon looked her over cautiously, trying to determine what she wanted without having to ask. “Yeah, I am,” he eventually said.

She smiled at the answer. “Oh good. I was hoping maybe you’d let me tag along. Merlin says I’m pretty good at magic, and that I’m ready to start using it in real combat.”

“Why with me? You could sign up for your own patrol.”

Rinoa looked down at the cobblestone ground and drew circles into it with the toe of her boot. “Well… Merlin said I’m good but… He’s still nervous about me going by myself.” Rinoa bit her lip as she forced herself to keep talking. “And truth be told, I’m a little nervous myself. So, I thought maybe some backup would be good. You know, in case I bite off more than I can chew.”

Leon crossed his arms, considering her request.

Rinoa waited quietly for a response. She could practically see the gears turning in his head. “I could be really helpful. With a powerful mage like myself on your side, your strength would effectively be doubled.”

More silent consideration. Despite the mundanity of what they were going to do, a simple 2 hour walk through Traverse Town looking for Heartless, Leon seemed to be considering her request with the utmost seriousness. But that was fine by Rinoa. She hated it when people didn’t take her seriously.

Leon let out a sigh and uncrossed his arms. “Alright, you can come with me, just don’t blast me with any magic,” he said, recalling how she’d once lifted him into the air sent him flying into the lake outside Merlin’s House with an unintentional aero spell once.

“Really?” Rinoa nearly jumped in excitement. “You got it! You can count on me!”

“And be careful!” Leon said sternly trying to calm her down as she ran off ahead of him. Leon watched as she greeted the people from the previous patrol, now finally returning to the First District.

He gripped the handle of his Gunblade, feeling his nervous Heart beating down his arm and against the still weapon. He took one final deep breath and followed after her, officially beginning his job.

***

Rinoa and Leon chased after a small Blue Rhapsody Heartless. It was an insignificant form of Heartless for the most part, barely a threat, but Leon was in no mood to take chances with any Heartless they might come across. An instinctual fear deep in his Heart told him that if any got away, it could encourage more to show up.

So, they ran through town. From the alleyway behind the hotel, through the Second District, and into the Third, they at last cornered it.

With no place left to run, the Heartless fired a small, yet sharp, ice crystal towards Leon. A sudden attack, but still easily dodged as Leon deftly sidestepped it and slashed the Heartless in two. The two halves hung in the air for a moment before puffing into a cloud of dark smoke.

With a bit of satisfaction, Leon rested the dull side of his weapon on his shoulder and turned back to Rinoa. “Sorry for the run around, but at least we finally got it,” he said, but the satisfaction in Leon’s voice didn’t last for long. Quickly, it turned to concern as he noticed a small cut on Rinoa’s upper arm. “Hey, are you okay?” he asked, approaching her and trying to gauge just how injured she was.

“Huh?” Rinoa took a moment to look at herself. It didn’t take long before she noticed the small trickle of blood coming from her arm. “Oh this? I think it was from that last ice attack it sent your way.”

“Oh,” Leon realized he hadn’t accounted for someone to be standing behind him as he sidestepped the sharp shard of ice that had been fired at him. “Sorry, I should’ve blocked it. I’m not used to having someone with me during a patrol.”

“Oh, it’s no problem! I’m fine, really!” Rinoa brought her hands up, trying to reassure Leon. “Besides I can take care of it easily. I’ve gone over Cure spells with Merlin so many times now that it’s not even funny,” she said, a green aura beginning to emit from her hand.

“Hey, hold on!” Leon said just as she was about to bring the healing magic to the small cut on her arm. His words came out louder than he meant, but at least it got her attention.

Rinoa looked over at him, the green cure magic that had been building in her hand now gone.

Leon pulled a bottled potion from his pocket. “Take this. It’s my fault you got hit. And you should save your energy. Cures can really take a lot out of people.”

Rinoa scrunched her nose at the sight of the bottle. “Uhh, no thanks. I’ll be alright without it.”

An odd reaction, but Leon didn’t pry. “Just take it,” he said, taking another few steps towards Rinoa.

Rinoa backed up just as many steps. “I said, no thanks.”

“I insist.”

“Really Leon, I don’t want it!” Rinoa yelled, catching Leon off-guard. Without wasting another moment, she focused the magic into her hand and passed it over her arm.

The small cut vanished, leaving no sign there had ever been a wound. Rinoa looked up at Leon with a proud grin. “See? I’m fine.”

Leon gave a sigh of defeat as he slipped the bottle back into his pocket. “Alright. But I have these potions so let’s try to use them. I want you able to cast magic even in emergencies. No, especially in emergencies.”

Rinoa rolled her eyes. “Sure,” she said in a tone that was as equally dismissively as any of Leon’s whatever’s ever were.

Leon blinked in surprise, but aside from that and his usual silence he otherwise showed no response. He stood behind as Rinoa began walking ahead of him. “So that’s what that feels like,” he mumbled to himself.

***

Leon knelt on the ground, cradling his injured arm with the other. Under his breath, he let loose a string of curses that would’ve turned anyone from Radiant Garden pale. Fortunately, Rinoa was the only one nearby, and she wasn’t from Radiant Garden. So, it only sounded like nonsense to her. Despite that, she’d apparently found another reason to be angry.

“Why didn’t you dodge?!” Rinoa yelled at Leon. “You had all the time in all the Worlds to get out of the way! That Heartless was just charging blindly forward”

Leon couldn’t tell which was worse, the pain coming from his arm, or Rinoa’s anger being directed towards him. Neither felt good. “You were behind me,” he explained, gritting his teeth as his arm throbbed.

“I can take care of myself. Don’t go getting yourself killed just because you think I’m not taking any of this seriously!”

“I didn’t say that you couldn’t, I just don’t want to repeat what happened last time. I moved too suddenly and you got hurt.”

Rinoa’s frustration flared. “I only got hurt because I was the one that messed up! And it was so small, I didn’t even notice that I got hit.”

Leon was quiet. Gone was his annoyance at the girl lecturing him. Now replaced with a feeling of foolishness. Perhaps he had been overprotective? It was hard for him to tell how far he should trust others to take care of themselves lately. Faces flashed through his mind. People he trusted to be able to take care of themselves, only to never be seen again. Or worse, unnerving moments when Heartless used combat habits and flourishes that Leon recognized from others.

Rinoa let out her anger with a sharp sigh that snapped Leon’s attention back to her. “Listen, thank you for standing between me and the Heartless, okay? But I don’t like feeling like dead weight. I know I’m newer to this than you are, but try to have a little confidence in me. If it comes down to a matter of saving yourself or saving me, trust me to save myself.”

Leon nodded, but otherwise didn’t respond. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the potion from earlier.

“Oh, why don’t you save that for later,” Rinoa said as she focused healing magic to her hands. “I’ll cast cure on you. Consider it my actual ‘thank you’ and a demonstration of what I can do.”

If Rinoa hadn’t already been looking at him, she wouldn’t have noticed the sudden wince and increased tension in Leon’s body from her suggestion.

“Are you okay?” she asked, stepping closer to him. She wondered if maybe it was a reaction from the pain of his wound?

He stepped back from her, his eyes focused intensely on the green glow emanating from her hand. “I-I’m fine. Really you don’t need to do that.” Leon said, before quickly gulping down his potion so that any healing Rinoa could’ve done would now be in vain.

Rinoa was more confused than upset by Leon’s reaction and dismissal of her help. She looked him over, studying him as if his body held the answer to the question she was developing. “Do you not like cure or something?” she finally asked.

Leon’s body tensed once again at the question. “No. I’m fine with them,” he said in a voice that wasn’t nearly as indifferent as he’d hoped it would be.

“If you say so… It’s just that, you seemed to really not like the idea of me casting cure on either myself or you.”

“Well, what about you?” he deflected, “do you have a problem with potions? They’re a liquid cure, it just takes a second to kick in.”

“I guess so?”

Leon hadn’t expected that answer. He expected her to take annoyance, or even offense, at his deflection. “You don’t know?”

“No, it’s just… I’ve never really had to talk about it before.” Rinoa’s voice was quiet. Her eyes slowly drifted away from Leon and apparently found comfort in some dark corner she stared towards. “Can I be honest about something?” she whispered.

Leon was silent for a moment. “Sure.”

It was a non-comital answer. Less of a yes and more of a wasn’t-a-no. But honesty was key, even during simple missions like this. If people were likely to get hurt, then everyone needed to be able to speak freely about anything.

“When I first got to Traverse Town, I got sick. I mean, really sick. I was laid up in bed for a month.” Rinoa clutched her stomach as she recalled the waves of nausea from long ago. “A whole month of not knowing where I was, where my parents were, or even how I got here. It felt like I was dying the whole time.”

“I’m sorry, that sounds… hard.”

Rinoa nodded. “I couldn’t even eat solid food for most of it. I mean, I could… But it’d come back pretty shortly after.”

Leon closed his eyes, trying to prevent the mental picture from forming in his mind. “I get the idea.”

“Anyway, since I couldn’t eat, Merlin gave me a lot of potions to compensate. I know it sounds kind of childish, but ever since then I’ve hated potions. The taste, the smell, everything about them just reminds me of that month stuck in bed in a town I’d never heard of and wondering where my parents went.” Rinoa’s voice trailed off. “But I guess that’s a question that’ll never get answered.”

Leon was silent, not knowing what to say. But he figured if she was sharing this about herself, then the least he could do was explain himself too. “I don’t dislike the cure spell.”

“Huh?” Rinoa turned to look at Leon.

“You asked me if I disliked cure. I don’t, it’s a really important spell to know. I just…” Leon clenched his teeth. “I just can’t… It’s hard to explain, but…” Leon let out a breath and decided to try starting over. “If someone fancies themselves a mage, then they should at least know it in case anything happens.”

Rinoa nodded and looked at him curiously, her eyes getting caught on the scar adorning his face. She knew Aerith was handy with the cure spell, she’d seen her use it on Yuffie whenever the small ninja would trip and skin her knee. So, why was Leon the only one who had any sort of prominent injury compared to the others? And in such a easy to notice place…

Leon had been silent for a while. And when it became clear that he couldn’t think of anything more to say, Rinoa spoke again.

“I don’t really know what happened, Yuffie and Aerith have told me a little, but I figured after what happened to your home, you’d be nervous around danger and the Heartless. But instead, you seem so fearless. If someone asks you to patrol Traverse Town alone, you’ll do it. And if you get saddled with an inexperienced partner, you’ll do that too. And you’ll keep saying, ‘whatever’ like it’s no big deal. But when I mention the cure spell, you tense up like it’s the thing that’s going to hurt you.”

Leon swallowed hard as he looked at the ground. “Radiant Garden fell, that’s a fact. And I had to run, that’s also a fact, I couldn’t stop it from happening. But I tried… I tried so hard to stop it!”

Leon paused to pull himself together. He looked back up to Rinoa. She continued to watch him. There was a hint of sadness to the way she looked at him, but that original curious look never faded either.

“And because I tried, that meant I got hurt. A lot. Over and over. And every time, some white mage would look me over, cast a cure of some level or another, and then tell me to rush back out there. But no matter how hard I fought, I kept getting hurt and found myself waking up to another cure spell. And every time, the number of people in need of healing got smaller and smaller. I don’t know how many times I was healed, but eventually all I could think when someone would cast cure on me, was just how much I didn’t want it.”

“You didn’t want to be healed?”

“People call cure a spell for healing, but it’s not. Healing implies that you’ve recovered from your wounds, but… Damn it! I don’t know, it’s just different.” Leon cursed, hating how useless he was at even explaining himself.

“I kind of get it… Cure skips that part, huh?” Rinoa finished for him. She walked towards him and lifted his arm. Gently, she traced the part of Leon’s arm that had once been an open wound, now not even his skin was even slightly discolored, much less a scar. “You don’t really get a chance to recover from your wounds, it just makes the wound itself go away, almost like it was never there in the first place. But you still remember it.”

Leon stared at her in disbelief. “Y-yeah…” he whispered. His eyes settled on the part of her arm that had been nicked by the Heartless’s ice spell and remembered how his gut lurched with concern even from that tiny wound. “How were you not scared when you got hurt?” he asked. “Just a little more to the side, and it could’ve struck you in the chest.”

Rinoa looked amused by the question. “It barely got me. It would’ve had to travel really far to pose that kind of danger,” she said, drawing an imaginary line with her finger from the outside of her arm to the center of her chest.

Leon was quiet. He didn’t like the answer. He thought of familiar faces who’d also seemed fine before a stray shot barely got them too.

If either of them were going to say something, it was cut off as the bell tower in the Second District rang, marking the end of their two hours.

“Guess our time’s up,” Leon said before Rinoa could continue the previous conversation. “You should start heading back, I’ll stick around a little longer and make sure there aren’t any surprises waiting for the next patrol.”

“You sure? Want me to stick around?”

Leon shook his head. “No, I’d like be alone. I think I’ve said enough, anyway.”

She watched him carefully for a moment, but eventually accepted the statement. “Okay, thanks for letting me tag along.” Her voice was quiet and lacked the energy Leon had come to expect from her.

As soon as she was out of earshot, Leon rested his head in one hand and let out a sigh. He wondered why he told her all that, he hadn’t even told anyone from Radiant Garden about it.

Better yet, he wondered what he was supposed to do with the information she told him. She couldn’t stand potions, and the thought of a cure spell made him tense up far more than any Heartless did.

Leon pressed his palm harder into his face as he realized she was probably going to ask to join him on his next patrol.

"What a fine partnership we are..."

***

“Dear boy, are you looking for something specific?”

Leon looked up from the pile of books he was rummaging through, and found Merlin’s curious gaze observing him from behind the small round spectacles adorning his face.

Leon glanced back at the pile of books on Merlin’s floor before speaking. “Sorry, it’s nothing important. I was just looking for something to read.”

Maybe some light reflected off his glasses, or perhaps Merlin could make light shine from his eyes. Either way, Leon could’ve sworn he saw Merlin’s eyes twinkle from his answer. “It’s not often you come to look through my spell books.” The wizard said with a smile. “But are you sure a spell book is what you want? I’m sure I’ve got a book of fiction somewhere around here that should be more entertaining for you to read.”

Leon hummed a no as he went back to the pile of books lying on Merlin’s Floor. “I’m not really looking for a story. Just something to…” Leon started to lose his train of thought as he pulled out a book titled, Whyte Magicks: A Primer to the Curative Arts.

Leon raised an eyebrow at it. The wording was a little archaic, but it seemed to be exactly what he was looking for. “Just something to read when I can’t sleep,” he finished.

Merlin squinted at the cover of the book Leon held. “Oh, I believe I used this while tutoring Rinoa.” The wizard chuckled to himself. “White magic, eh? You struck me as someone who’s interests would lean closer to the darker arts. Cure is one of the harder spells to learn. You might find fire or blizzard to be a bit more intuitive to get to grips with.”

“Whatever.” Leon said. He gestured over to his Gunblade resting on the wall. “I’ve been trained to use that for offense rather than magic. And besides, I’m just looking for something that’ll put me to sleep that’s all.”

Merlin didn’t look entirely convinced, but chose not to push the subject. “If you say so, Leon.”

Leon looked back down at the tome in his hand. It was a heavy book but the knowledge it contained weighed heavier to Leon.

***

A week had gone by, and just as Leon had predicted, Rinoa approached him and asked to accompany him on his patrol through Traverse Town again.

She was dressed the same as last time. Or if she wasn’t, Leon couldn’t tell. The only difference he could notice from how she was a week ago, was the satchel she wore over one shoulder. When Leon asked her what it was for, she just waved it off and said she brought it to carry some things.

Leon didn’t feel like prying any further.

“You’re hurt again,” Leon said after they finished taking out a group of Heartless. He pointed towards the small cut on her arm. Almost in the same place as last time.

Slowly Rinoa touched it. Pulling her hand away to examine the blood on her fingers. “Huh, I guess so. I wonder why I keep not noticing?”

“It was another ice spell, so it could be numbing your arm as cuts you. You’d probably notice it if it cut you deeper.”

Rinoa looked closer at the wound. Now that Leon had mentioned it, the area around it was awfully cold to the touch too. “That’s freaky, but at least it’s nothing a cure can’t fix.” She smiled at Leon, her hands once again began to glow green.

“Hey, hang on a sec.” Leon interrupted, extending an arm to stop her from the spell.

Rinoa looked annoyed at him. “I told you last time, remember? I don’t want a potion. You can save them for yourself.”

“That’s fine, I’m not offering one.”

Rinoa arched an eyebrow at the man. Her eyes quickly grew wide in shock as he removed his gloves and a faint green glow emanated from his hands. “Are you…?”

Leon placed his hands just above the cut on Rinoa’s arm, and used what he’d been reading about over the past week. “It might not look like it, but magic can be really draining. I’ve seen a lot mages-in-training pass out because they didn’t account for how much energy spells take to cast,” Leon explained, “so, if you’re not going to drink a potion, at least let me cast a cure every now and then.”

When Leon pulled his hands away, Rinoa’s wound had scabbed over. Leon looked at his hands and back to the scab a few times. It was certainly better than what it used to be, but not as fully healed as Leon had hoped.

Rinoa smiled at him. “If the base level of the spell is called cure, and the higher version of it is called cura, then I’d call what you just did a cu,” she said before breaking out into a fit of giggles.

Leon felt his face heat up, “Wh-whatever…” he said, trying to deflect her joke.

Rinoa’s smile grew wider. “But you know what? You’re sweet, Leon,” Rinoa said, drawing Leon’s attention back to her. “Cure’s are difficult, but you did a good job. It’s only been a week since we last went on a patrol and you’re already able to do this. You must’ve been thinking about me a lot.” Her eyebrow wiggling at her suggestion.

“Whatever,” Leon said again, turning away before she could see his face get even redder. “We need to work together, that means I’m relying on you to not be completely exhausted when the time comes. So at least rely on me to do some healing too.”

“Then…” Rinoa began, circling around him so she could see his face. “Would it be alright for me to cast cure on you too?”

Leon was silent for a moment. “No.”

Surprisingly, Rinoa’s lips curled upwards. “That’s what I thought you’d say.” She dug into the satchel she had slung around her shoulder. “Fortunately, I brought some of these!” she said, revealing with pride a bottle of healing potion.

Leon stared at it in surprise. “I thought you hated potions. Why do you have-?” Leon began.

“As the magic caster, my hands are free. And since you wouldn’t accept a cure last time, I figured I could at least bring a supply of potions, just in case.”

Leon looked at her, unable to hide his appreciation. The uncommon expression wasn’t lost on Rinoa. She beamed at him with a wide smile as she bounced on her toes.

“Oh, and one more thing, Leon.” Rinoa began. “Are there any extenuating circumstance that you’d be alright with if I were to cast cure on you?”

Leon considered it. “If it can be avoided, I’d rather you didn’t. If it’s an emergency or I’m in the middle of a fight and there’s no time, I guess it would be fine. Or if I’m unconscious and you’re out of potions. Otherwise I’ll just live with any injury I have.”

“Okay, sure. Just wanted to know.”

A loud crash in the distance ended their conversation. They both looked up and then looked at each other.

“Rinoa, let’s go!” Leon said running off in the direction of the sound.

At the source of the noise, they found an imposing Heartless. More human shaped and muscular than most. But what was most unique about it, was that it held a sword of its own in one hand.

Rinoa looked over to Leon. His body was tensed tightly in a defensive position, almost as if she’d just threatened to cast cure on him again. It was the least at ease she’d ever seen him around a Heartless. Not that she could really blame him, it was also the most intimidating looking Heartless she’d ever seen. But seeing how much of an affect it was having on Leon, made it even more intimidating to Rinoa.

“I’ve seen this kind of Heartless before. Back home on Radiant Garden, just before it fell.” Leon cast a quick glance behind himself towards Rinoa. “It’s called an Invisible. Be careful, they’re extremely dangerous, so keep your distance.”

Rinoa barely had time to make sound of affirmation before Leon charged at it.

Determined to make the first strike, Leon moved quickly, the tip of his Gunblade dragging along the ground and kicking up sparks. The Heartless effortlessly blocked his rising slash and prepared an attack of its own. This time Leon parried, then swung at it again.

This back-and-forth continued for some time. Rinoa watched trying to find a moment to help. But Leon was too aggressive. She was having trouble finding a good moment to attack with one of her spells without him either jumping in the way of it or getting caught in the crossfire.

Eventually, the Heartless got the upper hand. It parried Leon’s strike before swiftly lunging at him. Leon was in a bad position and didn’t have time to dodge. He closed his eyes and braced for impact.

When nothing happened, he opened his eyes. A hexagonal dome of light magic surrounded him and protected him from the blade intended for him.

Beams of light erupted from the protective dome, blasting the Heartless away from Leon. As the dome slowly dissipated, Leon turned his attention towards Rinoa.

Her hands were still outstretched towards him; remnants of the magic she’d cast still glittering from her fingers. She gave Leon a look of her own that was equal parts, What? You weren’t worried, were you? and that was too close.

Leon cracked a smile at her expression. “Was that a Reflect spell?”

“Yup, took me awhile to get it down, but I bet you’re glad I did.”

A chuckle escaped from Leon. “Maybe a little.”

The invisible returned and resumed its duel with Leon. But now Leon made concessions for Rinoa as he attacked. Choosing to not rush in at every opening the Heartless gave him, Leon instead waited for Rinoa to unleash a few quick spells before continuing his offensive. Through their combined strengths, it looked certain that the Heartless had would soon fall.

That changed when something slammed into Rinoa from behind.

Looking back, a group of Air-Soldier Heartless had gathered above her. Rinoa wondered if the main Heartless had somehow called for backup, but she didn’t have much time to spend thinking before the group was upon her again, kicking and clawing wherever they could.

At some point Leon must have noticed the new Heartless too. “Rinoa! You just focus on the small fry for now!” he called out to her. “I’ll handle the big one!”

Rinoa wanted to argue, but one Air-Soldier grabbed her satchel and attempted to fly off with it. The contents of the bag spilled out onto the ground as the strap strained against the underside of her shoulder.

She didn’t like it, but Rinoa realized she couldn’t help Leon and fight off all these Heartless at the same time.

She fired off a myriad of spells ranging from fires to thunders. But aside from the one trying to carry off with her bag, the Air-Soldiers were too fast and difficult to hit.

In the background, the ringing sound of steel clashing against steel from Leon’s fight with the Invisible echoed behind Rinoa. The noise set her on edge and made it nearly impossible for her to focus. In her desperation, she began firing blindly, each spell draining more and more of her energy as she tried to finish them off as quickly as possible.

Finally, an ice spear from one of her blizzard spells pierced one of the Air-Soldiers. Then a fire ball collided with another. And a bolt of thunder with another.

Rinoa wiped at some sweat pooling on her forehead. If she could keep this up, then she might be able to wrap this up quickly and be back to helping Leon fight the Invisible.

Despite her growing confidence however, more of Rinoa’s strength vanished with each spell she cast. Leon wasn’t kidding about how surprisingly exhaustive magic can be, Rinoa thought to herself.

The thought of Leon finally convinced Rinoa to look back and see how he was doing. It was only a brief distraction, but a single Air-Soldier saw its chance. Rinoa didn’t have time to react before it knocked her to the ground. The force of the blow, combined with her ever growing exhaustion, made her body feel like one big struck funny bone.

Rinoa looked up, expecting to see the Heartless that attacked her. But instead she found the Invisible Squall was supposed to be fighting looking down at her. Her heart stilled as she got lost in its soulless glowing yellow eyes. The moment seemed to stretch on for far too long and yet not long enough, before it raised it sword and prepared to swing.

In a flash, Leon was by her side, his Gunblade held in the way of the Invisible’s sword. Rinoa noticed how heavy his breathing was, as well as the myriad of shallow cuts on him.

Leon looked down, their eyes meeting for the briefest of moments, then he was back to death glaring at the Invisible standing before them.

In one swift movement Leon tossed the Invisible’s sword aside and rammed his Gunblade through the Heartless. With the Invisible fading away, Leon fell to one knee and tried to catch his breath.

“Look out!” Rinoa yelled, pointing over towards an Air-Soldier. Leon lazily moved his head to see what Rinoa was yelling about, but lacked the energy to do anything before it barreled into him.

A loud thud was heard as Leon’s head collided with a wall, knocking him out.

Rinoa’s breath hitched. A scary calm came over her as she stared at Leon’s unmoving body. The world seemed to move in slow-motion around her.

She stood up and fired upon the Heartless with a frightening accuracy she could only have wished she’d had earlier.

One by one, each Air-Soldiers vanished into smoke. Rinoa placed her shots instinctually. No longer aiming where they currently were, she aimed for where they were going to be. A blizzard here, a fire there, she even threw in an aero at one point and eliminated two at once by blowing one Air-Soldier into another at high speed. She almost couldn’t believe it when she took out the last Heartless.

Now that she was finally safe, Rinoa suddenly felt all the exhaustion hit her at once and fell to the ground. Her head pounded as the world around her seemed to spin uncomfortably fast.

Placing a hand against her head, she closed her eyes and hoped the spinning would stop. The world did seem more stable when she finally opened her eyes, but not by much.

“Leon…?” she mumbled, looking over to where she’d last seen him.

He was still lying on the ground. Unable to tear her eyes away from his unmoving body, Rinoa felt her Heart reverberate through her body and became the only remaining reminder of the passage of time.

She tried to force herself back up, but her legs were numb and useless to her. She considered casting cure on herself so that she could run to him. But when she brought her hands up and willed what energy she had into them, the dizziness returned tenfold. She realized that she’d probably pass out as soon as she cast the spell.

But if she couldn’t cast cure on herself, and if she couldn’t walk to him, what could she do to help?

Rinoa’s hand brushed against smooth round object. Whatever it was, it looked familiar, but there was such a fog in her head that it took her a moment before she could recognize it.

“A potion…?” she said, her voice little more than a dull whisper. She stared at it a while until finally recalling the Air-Soldier that had inadvertently dumped all her potions on the ground.

An idea occurred to her. Leon wouldn’t be able to drink a potion in his condition, and casting cure on herself was likely going to cause her to pass out. But, Rinoa realized, she could drink the potion and use what energy it brought her to cast cure on Leon instead.

Rinoa took a deep breath and brought the potion to her lips. The scent of it invaded her nose. It reminded her of disease, like the taint of vomit on one’s breath that invaded the tongue and drifted through the nose with every breath. Her stomach lurched as she drank from it, her tongue screamed at her to spit it out. It took her a half-second of the liquid just sitting in her mouth before she willed herself to swallow it.

The worst of it was over. She could already feel the energy slowly returned to her legs. Certainly not as fast as a cure spell would’ve been, nor as effective, but it was enough. She forced herself to stand and walked unsteadily towards Leon.

“Hey… You okay?” Rinoa asked, unable to tell if the question was intended as joke or if she was really checking to see if Leon’s still clearly unconscious body was still awake.

Regardless of her unclear intentions, Leon stayed motionless and quiet.

“Yeah, that’s what you always say,” Rinoa said to his unconscious form. Okay, that one was definitely a joke, she admitted to herself.

She leaned over him as a green glow slowly gleamed from her hands. “I know you don’t like this spell very much. But I don’t think there’s much else I can do for you.” A flower bloomed in the air above Leon. As it disappeared, so too did his wounds.

Leon let out a pained groan. A strangely reassuring sound to Rinoa, that at least told her he was going to be okay.

Almost immediately, the world spun again. She brought a hand to her forehead, as her head from filled with static. Her senses felt overwhelmed as she lost the short-lived strength the potion gave her and dropped to the ground.

Leon opened his eyes. The world around him was a swirl of colors at first, but his vision rapidly improved and he was quickly able to make out Rinoa kneeling above him. Leon forced himself to sit up and caught her before she could fall over.

“Rinoa? What happened?”

Rinoa seemed to stare right through him, too exhausted to notice the question. “Good morning.” Rinoa said.

Leon looked up at the night sky for a moment. “Good evening,” he said dryly.

Rinoa was almost too exhausted to laugh at Leon’s correction. The extra energy from a moment ago already completely depleted. “Sorry, if I worried you,” she said. “I didn’t have the energy to cast cure on the both of us, and I couldn’t just leave you unconscious on the ground. So, I drank one of your potions to help me cast the spell.”

Leon looked shocked. “You drank a potion? But I thought—”

“It was either that or leave you lying on the ground.” Rinoa said. “I’m more surprised you haven’t gotten mad at me for casting cure on you.”

“I was unconscious. So, it’s not like I could drink a potion even if you handed it to me. You did the responsible thing.”

“I’m glad…” Rinoa mumbled. She’d closed her eyes at some point while Leon was talking and found it surprisingly difficult to open them now. “I didn’t want to upset you, but I wasn’t sure what else to do.”

Leon stood up gently, taking care not to disturb her. “Just relax. I’m okay now, thanks to you. So just rest.”

She’d finally found the energy to look at him and gave a weary smile. “Hey, you remember what you said about people passing out from overusing magic? I definitely believe you about that one now.” And then promptly passed out.

***

Rinoa walked among the row of injured people. The Heartless’s arrivals frequently waxed and waned on different days. But tonight, there were far more appearing than usual.

Rinoa would’ve preferred fighting, but people skilled with white magic was rare. So barring Merlin, everyone capable of casting cure was situated in the First District to take care of the injured.

“Leon, I need you to work with me here.”

Rinoa’s ears perked up as she heard Aerith’s voice speak. She looked over to see Leon lying on the ground, his back propped up against a wall. He weakly pushed away Aerith’s glowing green hands from his body.

“I-I’ll be fine…”

“You will not! Stop trying to look tough and just let me cast cure on you.”

“Save your energy for someone else. I don’t need it.”

Aerith looked ready to yell at Leon but was stopped when Rinoa placed a hand on her shoulder. “Let me talk to him, Aerith. You go help somebody else.”

Aerith let out a frustrated sigh as she got up. “Hopefully you can talk some sense into him,” she said before walking away.

Rinoa grimaced as she looked at Leon. The side of his white shirt underneath the familiar leather jacket was stained red. Leon’s breathing was heavy, but she reassured herself that, if nothing else, his breathing was at least still even and untroubled.

The sight was nothing if not unpleasant to look at. Rinoa looked away. Her eyes caught Aerith’s form behind her, talking to another person in need of healing. She still looked annoyed from the conversation she’d had with Leon.

Rinoa turned back to Leon. “She doesn’t know?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Leon shook his head.

“Have you had a potion yet?”

He gave a small nod and pulled an empty bottle from his pocket. “Should be working soon. I just… I just need a minute before I go back.”

Rinoa nodded. “I’ll wait here until it takes effect. Then I’ll tell Aerith I eventually convinced you.”

Leon looked at her. Really looked. His gaze seemed to say a million things that he couldn’t verbalize. After a long enough silence, he simply nodded.

“How bad are things?” Rinoa asked hesitantly.

Leon paused as he considered the question. “I’ve… seen worse.” Rinoa noticed how Leon avoided eye contact as his hand reached for the metal lion necklace he wore.

Rinoa smiled sadly. “Yeah, I guess we all have.” She said, forcing herself to resist the urge to cast cure on him. She hated seeing him injured, especially like this, but she respected Leon’s commitment enough not to try and force him. Besides, she told herself, he’s already taken a potion. So, it would be pointless to cast cure on him now.

They waited together as the potions effect started to kick in and his wound began to heal. A look of relief filled his face as he let out a relaxed breath through formerly gritted teeth.

“I’m gonna let Aerith know you’re healed,” Rinoa began, “but if you’re not ready yet, don’t be ashamed to give yourself a few more minutes.”

Rinoa got up, but barely left Leon’s side before he grabbed her by the arm.

Even through the arm warmers she wore, his grip was firm. But it wasn’t uncomfortable or painful. Just one pull and Leon’s fingers would lose their grip on her.

“I… I just want to say…” Leon stammered, trying to will the words on his lips to come out. He hated having to be open with his feelings and reveal that he wasn’t as unfeeling as he tried to appear to be.

“You’re welcome.”

Leon’s grip relaxed and fell back to his side. He sat silently, wondering how he managed to get his message to her.

Rinoa giggled. “You were also starting to turn red, Leon.”

Immediately Leon’s face hardened, and possibly turned redder. But before Leon could mentally collapse in on himself, Rinoa spoke again.

“I should go. Lots of people to check on, you know?”

“R-right…” Leon said and watched as she walked away. Maybe next time, he thought, I should be the one to ask for back-up.

And if you’ve reached this far, I would very much appreciate a like, reblog, or kudo on AO3. Something to let me know if you liked it <3. But regardless if you do, I’d like to say thank you for reading this all the way through and I hope you have a lovely rest of your day!

#Kingdom Hearts #Final Fantasy VIII #Fan Fiction #squall x rinoa #squinoa #Kingdom Hearts Fanfiction #rinoa heartilly #squall leonhart #Leon #Still waiting on the KH extended universe lol #My Writing

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