#I just wish Every had been a more joyous and soft occurrence

[maybe-theres-hope]

Of Will and Wildflowers, Part 3 (Final)

It’s here! Thank you so much to everyone who encouraged me: @oquinn53, @reyeslonestar, @howtosingit, @a-l-ias, @mtnofgrace, @descending-into-the-crazies @pragmaticoptimist34 if I forgot anyone please let me know! 

Special thanks to my husband for reading this and making sure all my typos were gone :)

Tarlos | period drama/grudging acquaintances to lovers | Part 3/3 | This part: 10,877w | Total: 33,427w

Part 1 | Part 2

Read on AO3

Mr. Strand,

I hope this letter finds you well, and that your journey home was swift and uneventful. The entire house has been mourning yours and father’s departure since you left us. Mamà is convinced the lights are dimmer without the ambience of your father’s amusing anecdotes. 

Elena has been lamenting the fullness of the house as well. She is easily bored without some new distraction every fortnight, but she swears she will convince you to visit again someday. I dare say we all will thank her if she can manage it.

In deference to our conversation, I will not try. I know you would not appreciate my needling. 

Raquel cannot be bothered with the mundane occurrence of the comings and goings of visitors while she daydreams of castles and knights, so her opinion has not been asked. She still insists on helping Mrs. Smith in the kitchen, and Mamà still insists on having fits about it. 

I must agree with my sister and mother, however. The house is a little less bright these days. Usually we can count upon sunlight and laughter to get us through the day, but those seem fleeting of late. 

Flor misses you as well. She’s ornery when I ride her, as if she remembers a more beloved companion and I do not measure up. We lament your departure together when we meander the grounds. 

Jimena is not often in the stable, so her opinion has not been ascertained either. 

But enough of our melancholy!

How is it to be home? Travel can make us all weary, and you seemed so tired even before you set off. I hope you are feeling better in your own comfortable surroundings. Texas will always welcome you, but I know how good it is to feel your own dirt under your shoes. Please tell me something joyful, so that I can remember your face in gladness.

Your friend,

Christina Reyes

My dear friend,

As I sit beside the fire tonight, I am reminded of our last conversation. I am evermore grateful that you are taking on the no doubt immense burden of being my confidant while keeping our correspondence regarding these matters private from your family. Do not mistake me, if you at any time feel as though your obligation to me is taking precedent over your cherished feelings of love toward your family, please by all means give me but a word and I will cease my incessant pining.

Oh how I pine, dear Christina. There is not a day that goes by that I don’t think of the sound of rolling grass and smell wildflowers where there are none to be found. The city is bleak these days, and dark. What once was a welcome cacophony of life and commerce is now to me a teeming mass of sensation that I can barely stand for more than a moment. I long to feel the shift of earth under Flor’s hooves again, and for the caress of the soft breeze against my cheeks. 

But enough of that for now. You asked in your letter for something joyful. My father has secured a deal with a contractor out West, and his—our line will stretch right to the Pacific, culminating at the coast. A fully developed coast to coast line, my father’s dream. It makes me so happy to see him so elated when he talks of it, and of me taking over it in time. I do not like to talk of him being gone, but it is inevitable he says. Men grow old, and pass on. He says what matters most is that we make a mark on the world we can be proud of, and that we touch people in ways that matter. 

I cannot help but think that I have done neither. 

I apologize again for my melancholy. When I sit to write to you I never intend to make you sad. Please, rejoice for my father and his accomplishments, for they reflect on me as well. I will take comfort in his happiness, and you can take comfort in my feeling it. That is enough for now. 

Your friend,

TK Strand

TK,

I must address the most pressing concern from your letter immediately. You have touched us all, please know that. Please do not think you have not made a mark on the world, for our home would not have been the bright happy place it was while you were here without you to provide that light. Every day is a little darker, as I’ve said before, without you and your father in our midst. 

Everyone is a little darker. Especially my brot

But enough of melancholy, as you said. I am delighted to hear of your father’s immense accomplishment. We are all so proud to be a part of it, a part of the future. I shall like to make the journey coast-to-coast someday on it, to me that would be such a wondrous thing! 

I was wondering, would you tell me what Manhattan is like? I do admit I’ve only ever thought of it as bleak and loud and harsh, but surely folk as amiable as yourself and your father cannot come from such harshness. So please, tell me an anecdote of your days since you’ve returned. I’d love to hear of anything joyful. It would provide a balm to the monotony of country life. 

Thinking of you always,

Christina Reyes

Dearest Christina,

Thank you for saying such kind things. I’ve always felt as if I were on the periphery of life. I’ve skated through it mostly by way of parties and luncheons with people who have little to talk about other than themselves. I’m just now getting to a point in my life where I do want to make a mark on the world. I know I can do that partially when I inherit my father’s legacy, and I intend to do it the utmost justice. But I find myself adrift in that I do have family and friends who love me, however…I do not have a love that speaks my heart’s language. A love that is built of trust and companionship and intimacy. 

Please do not chide me for saying such things, we are friends and I feel I can talk about these delicate subjects with dignity. I thank you for your discretion. 

But yes, as it stands, I have made no such mark on the world, have no such intimacy with which to grow old. I feel that the things we do in life do have a way of defining us, but they are far overshadowed by the people we choose to love. 

In the past, I have chosen poorly, through no one’s fault but my own. I hope one day I can remedy that. But right now I feel, as I said, adrift. There is no one to hold me fast to the world, no one strive to do well for, after my father is gone. And I fear I may never have, as I have ceased looking. I cannot bear it at this moment. 

Forgive me, my dearest friend, I have ignored your other request until now. Manhattan is much as it always is, loud and harsh, as you said. But most days it is a good distraction to hear the hustle and bustle outside my window. I do miss the Park and the promenade, but  lately I haven’t felt well enough to venture out. I keep to my father’s study in our townhouse in Midtown while he visits the office near Gramercy and keeps me informed. 

As I haven’t got a joyful anecdote from the days since our return, I will relate to you one from the past that is near and dear to my heart. When I was a young boy of about ten, my mother—God rest her soul—took me to the waterfront one day when my father was stolen from us with work. We gazed out over the Hudson, and even in my young age I tried to imagine that, just across the water, began the vastness of the North American continent. I used to try and picture what the land was like, what exotic treasures it held. I had never been anywhere, though my father had been to Chicago and Philadelphia numerous times. 

I used to picture rolling hills, vast grasslands, and roaming livestock. I had been told most of the rest of the States consisted of farmland. I had never actually seen a bovine in person, but I had seen drawings. I childishly thought of it as one big zoo where all the animals roamed free, and the air always smelled crisp and clean. I imagined it was beautiful.

Funny thing is, I know now that that little boy of ten was at least partially right, at least about one particular place among that vastness. 

I hope I have made you joyous,

TK Strand

My dear friend,

Your letter has made me joyous, in some ways. I wish you could have seen our home with childlike eyes, but alas I think it was better suited to you as you are now, and I’m glad you have experienced it and that it was to your liking. It truly means the world that you think of it as beautiful.

However, I have cause for concern where you have mentioned you have not been out, that you are unwell. Pray, please let me know how you get on, we all worry over you so. I happened to mention that excerpt of your letter at dinner, and I fear I may have incited a frenzy. I am humbly asked by my siblings to enquire after your health. Please tell us what ails you, so we can worry properly, and send up our prayers. I know we cannot do a thing for you, as far apart as we are now, but you are always in our hearts. 

Mamà tells us that our business with your father is nearly finalized. I look forward to a ride on the line, hopefully with you as my guide. I must make the journey near winter, for I long to see snow. I’ve hitherto only read about it in books, a delicate powder that falls from the sky and blankets the world in white. How marvelous a sight must it be! 

Be well,

Christina Reyes

Dear Christina,

As for your family, please tell them I am alright. I did not wish to frighten them or you, and I’m sorry for that. Please trust that our cook keeps me well with sandwiches and fruits when I am able to eat them. Everything is well when father is around to take up my time with business discussion, and as I said I am well distracted most days by the cacophony of the city outside. 

I will venture out soon, I think, as my friends and acquaintances grow weary of my absence and I have left them all to their own devices for quite long enough, I suspect. I presume to know what they will want to discuss—an incident that took place just before our trip to Texas—it will be a drain on me to talk about it regardless. But I cannot put them off forever, I love them too much to deny them my company when they wish for it. Perhaps I’ll take a walk with one of them tomorrow, even if the air of the city is not nearly so keen and invigorating as the air of the country I have run from.

Please give my best to your family, I hope I have not caused anyone undue grief. I will only talk of happy things from here on out, when I eventually find them. 

With affection,

TK Strand

P.S. I believe you know deep down what truly ails me, so I’ll not speak of it further lest I lose all dignity. 

*

Mr. Michaels, the butler, stopped TK on his way to the dining room, handing him a card on a tray. He read it and smiled. “Miss Marwani called on you earlier, I told her you hadn’t yet come down. She left her card.”

“Thank you, Michaels. Will you send her a message that I’ll be free after luncheon today? I know it’s been so very long since I’ve made time to see her.”

“Yes, my lord. I dare say all your friends and acquaintances have been calling on us nonstop since your return home. But I trust it’ll take you a moment to get back into the swing of things after…your trip.” 

TK smiled sadly. He knew what the butler was going to say before amending it. He’d been an absolute wreck after finding Alexander and the footman and had left for Texas only two days later. The entirety of the household and all of his friends must think he’s still in a melancholy state because of the slight. 

If only they knew the truth. He might tell some of them, but only a select few he could trust. Michaels was a good man, and hadn’t overstepped. He’d practically raised TK since his father was so busy with the rail when he was younger. He knew the man was only looking out for his happiness. 

“Michaels?” he said before turning to go on to the dining room for breakfast.

“Yes, my lord?”

“If you were faced with a time limit on a decision that governed your whole life, would you wait until you’d found the right solution? Or would you take the first viable solution to come along?”

TK knew that Michaels knew exactly what he was talking about, but was too polite to call attention to that fact. “I think if it were me, I’d examine every detail of each choice before deciding on the one most beneficial to my life in the long run. After all, some decisions are for a lifetime.” With this, he gave a small reproachful smile to his once young charge.

“Yes, well. What would you do if you’d found the right solution, but it turned out to be impossible?” TK’s eyes looked up in earnest at the butler, whose expression had turned kind and commiserating.

“I do hope you don’t think you’d found the right solution to this problem just before your departure?” It was obvious Michaels thought Alexander was far below TK even before the scandalous tryst was revealed. 

“No, no. Nothing like that,” TK reassured. He was pensive for a moment, caught in his thoughts of rolling pasture and wildflowers, their scent dancing across his senses even from miles away. “I thought I had found the right avenue during my time away. It seemed a nice thing, a wonderful thing actually. I daresay my hopes were quite built up for a time. But in the end it proved, as I said, impossible.”

Michaels gazed at his young master for a moment, unmistakable pity in his eyes, but TK didn’t comment on it. He was too miserable. 

“I hold the utmost confidence that the right choice is out there for you. But, my lord, you will never find it unless you leave this house eventually. I am glad you’ve decided to start breakfasting in the dining room again, and I know that if you do go out later today your color might begin to return. I worry for you, my lord. I hope I am not impertinent to say so.”

“No, no Michaels. You’re not impertinent. I know I’ve been ghastly to be around these last few weeks, and I do hope to remedy that. To begin…moving toward the future, no matter how much I wish I knew its contents.” TK gave the butler a sad smile before turning away again, the weight of all he wished for still on his shoulders and bright, luminous brown eyes on his mind, no matter how much he wished they’d fade.

*

“I know you’re still mourning Alexander and his licentious ways, but I promise you, you can do much better. His family isn’t even that well connected! He’ll be a faint stain on your past and nothing more.”

TK looked over at his friend, the navy ribbon on her silk evening bonnet getting caught by the light breeze weaving through the Park. Her dark eyes held an intense shine as they often did when she went on a tirade. He let himself smile at her ability to be both vicious and diplomatic.

“Marjan,” he chided gently, “his family owns three quarters of the orange trees in the country! I wouldn’t say he’s not well connected. Half of Florida bears his family name in some capacity.”

“Oh, to hell with that,” she spit delicately. TK was also impressed by her proficiency in cursing with a velvet tongue. “Then he should be sent off to oversee them. Rid this city of his stupidity. Even further! Florida is too close, send him to the West Coast! Let him disappear. Society will be all the better for it, mark my words."

TK was brought up short by the mere mention of the opposite coast, since thoughts of that region gave in to thoughts of a certain eligible bachelor which gave in to thoughts of his intended that TK desperately wished was his own intended and—

It must have shown on his face.

“TK, my friend, trust me. He is nothing of consequence.” Her voice had turned gentle again, not the outrage on his behalf she’d been spouting for the past few minutes. TK could not help connecting her statement with his thoughts, even if she was off the mark at the moment. 

“I know that. It’s not him that unsettles me; he is firmly in my past and I shall not revisit my temporary lapse of judgement in giving him even a small parcel of my affection.” He patted her hand that rested in the crook of his arm as they walked leisurely around a small fountain, the sound of bubbling water serving to soothe his psyche for the time being.

She was silent for a moment before she tugged them to a pause on a semi-crowded knoll. “Then, pray tell, what has you so blue? Ever since you returned from the South you’ve been distant. I thought at first it was just lethargy left over from the long journey, but it has been over two months! I fear I shall never see you smile again as before. Please tell me what troubles you? Is it your father?”

Marjan was a close friend, and as such, she was privy to some news about his father’s health. The man wasn’t in immediate danger, but TK had confided in Marjan that his father had taken to being more…forceful in his demands that TK take a more active role in the business. He had a persistent cough but no fever as of yet. The doctors did what they could to alleviate the annoying ailment—as his father called it—but they all knew Owen Strand was beginning the downslope of his life. At nearly fifty years of age, he was nearing the last stretch of life expectancy and sometimes TK could see it plain on his father’s face. It made him apprehensive for the future, not to mention the fact that still stood: he had to marry before he could take over the business. 

And that thought brought him back around to his other melancholy. For if the desired recipient of his affection would return said affection, he’d be happily married yesterday. But alas, it was not to be. 

He dreaded a letter from Christina detailing an engagement. He knew it was coming soon, and he’d tried to resign himself to it. Perhaps she wouldn’t even tell him. After all, he’d asked as much of her. Nothing of Carlos, none at all; that had been his request. 

“It is, partially, my father’s health that concerns me,” he said as he came out of his thoughts and back into the conversation at hand. “However I…”

“What is it?” Marjan asked when he refused to speak further after trailing off into silence. “What makes your heart ache so? I can see it in your eyes that it is your heart that is broken. If it was not Alexander, then who?”

Trust Marjan to read him like a book. 

“I met someone. In Texas. Oh, Marjan—“ he paused a moment and could not help a smile crawling across his features at the thought of his week spent in bliss, before it all came crumbling down. “He is the most wonderful, kind, and beautiful creature I have ever met. At first I thought him a cad, as our first meeting was less than cordial. But upon learning why he felt as he did, I was persuaded to understand and to admire his candor. He spoke of his home with love and deference, and it was such a treasure to be shown the land with such a companion.”

He closed his eyes for a moment and pictured the apple orchard. Marjan caught his flush and smiled.

“And so? When shall we expect an announcement?”

TK’s smile quickly dimmed to a grimace, now tasked with completing the story.

“An announcement will not come, I’m afraid. He is betrothed to another. I found out on our second to last night in Austin, and I must confess I did not handle it well. I made a complete fool of myself and I’d like to never repeat it by seeing him again.”

“Wait, he did not tell you he was spoken for? And he courted you just the same and let you think you had a chance?” Her voice was angry and TK sought to soothe it with the truth.

“Truthfully, he never actually courted me. We were thrust together by circumstance, and he was a perfect gentleman throughout. It was I who read too much into each interaction, each conversation, each dance held in his arms. It was I who was a complete fool to let my feelings show on my face to all his family when they all knew nothing would ever come of it. I feel so stupid, Marjan. I practically begged father to cut the trip short. But…” he paused again, thinking of the dust kicking up behind Jimena’s hooves as Carlos rode out to meet their carriage after they’d already set off. The small bud of Indian Paintbrush was still blooming in a jar of water next to his bed. 

“But?” She prompted. 

“There were some moments where…where I could swear that he…but it was obviously a trick of my imagination. His betrothed is a marvelous gentleman, beloved by all, and he would be a fool not to accept an eventual proposal. As I said, it is well and truly over and out of the question that my pursuit would yield any happiness.” 

Marjan was silent while they resumed their walk, her hand steady in the crook of his arm. Eventually, she spoke softly. “Well, I must admit I am glad this melancholy is not on Alexander’s account, but I also must admit I am saddened by this turn of events. I know you to be a perfect gentleman, and I have always wished you could find someone as wonderful as you to share your life with. I know you’ll do great things and I know you want someone to share those triumphs with. If this man is who you feel is perfect for you, why not fight for him? It is not in your nature to give up so easily.”

“That’s just it, Marjan. He is perfect, and honorable. Which is why I could not jeopardize his honor by asking him to abandon a promise he made before he met me. I would never forgive myself if his good name was tarnished.”

They walked in silence until the end of the lane, where they turned to leave the Park and hail a carriage back to Marjan’s home up the avenue. 

*

When TK returned home later in the evening, Michaels stopped him in the entryway and held out a tray. “This came for you while you were out, my lord.”

TK took the proffered package and stared at it in confusion. The return address from from Christina, but usually all she sent were letters. This parcel was still small, the shape of a single letter, but thicker. It weighed little, giving no clue as to its contents.

“Thank you, Michaels. Is dinner set already? Do I have time to change?”

“You should, my lord. I shall call for you in about half an hour. Your father is in the parlor already, if you wish to check in with him, now you’re home.”

“Was he missing me? Did he need something?” TK wondered, a little worried. 

Michaels smiled. “No, my lord. He was actually quite content all day, and was happy that you’d gone to call on Miss Marwani. I only say to check in because he probably hopes to hear how happy a time you had.”

TK smiled sadly. He knew he was worrying his father with his refusal to leave his own rooms for the past weeks. It saddened him further that he could have possibly made his father’s condition worse by stressing him. He vowed to himself to make a better effort to get back into real life sooner rather than later. After all, as he’d told Marjan earlier, there was nothing to be done about…Mr. Reyes. That was well and truly over, in fact it had never begun. There was no reason to pine after a man who did not do the same for him. TK was worth more than that.

Yes, he must convince himself of that, and quickly. 

“Alright, Michaels. I’ll change quickly and meet him. Thank you,” he said with a small nod. Turning to ascend the stairs, he started to unwrap the small, delicate parcel Christina had sent. As he entered his rooms, his efforts revealed that there was, in fact, a letter inside. However it was nestled atop a small folded square of cloth, delicate and airy and fine. 

Setting the letter aside for the moment, he unfolded the fabric to reveal that it was a handkerchief, finely made and embroidered in bright colored thread. The edges were a gleaming yellow, reminding him of sunlight. On one corner, no bigger than his thumb, was the most intricate rendition of a yellow wildflower—he recognized it almost instantly. 

He moved to sit on the nearest surface, which happened to be the edge of his bed. The pads of his fingers caressed the tiny design reverently, as if touching it would somehow unravel all the thread that comprised it. As if by acknowledging that it was there, it was already in danger of disappearing. There was no doubt of the reference used—he had seen so many of those little yellow blossoms on his journey around the Reyes ranch. The breath left his body as his mind’s eye conjured a bright smile and the smell of clean sweetness on the air. 

After he’d regained some of his composure, he picked up the letter. It was shorter than most of her other letters, which stood to reason as he’d just received her last one a few days ago and he’d yet to answer it. She must have sent this just behind her previous one. 

Beloved TK,

I hope you are well. I know I have just posted a letter to you two days ago, but I saw this in a shop window and immediately thought of you. I know how you enjoyed the wildflowers around our home, and I wished for you to have a reminder of them—especially one less prone to wilting than the genuine article. 

You are always in my our thoughts, and I wished to keep us in yours. Please, think of Austin when you hold this token, and know that you are so dearly missed. 

Yours in heart,

Christina Reyes

TK stared. It seemed as though the letter had been written in some sort of haste, as it was unusual for Christina’s hand. The letters were slightly more slanted, and the spaces between paragraphs larger than her delicate way. Even her signature was off, as if it had been written by a proxy. And the contents…she’d never called him a beloved friend before. Well, no, it wasn’t even friend. It was just “beloved”. 

He wondered if she was growing melancholy herself for some unknown reason. The letter seemed sincere, but heavier than her usual correspondence, as if she was feeling his absence more acutely in this instance. 

Furthermore, he wasn’t sure he’d told her about what the wildflowers meant to him. He’d thought that was something he and Mr. Reyes had shared between themselves for the short time they’d been acquainted. But perhaps her brother had recited a few of their outings to her, and remarked on TK’s fascination with the surrounding flora of the country. 

Perhaps. 

He concluded that the whole parcel was a product of a hastily made decision when she’d seen the handkerchief in the window, and the oddities contained within the letter were the result of her haste to get it posted while she was still in town that same day. 

He gently tucked the gift into a box next to his bed, giving it one last longing stare before closing the lid and beginning to dress for dinner. 

*

“We’ve had a letter from the Doña,” his father said over luncheon a few days later as he perused said letter which Michaels had handed to him upon their arrival in the dining room. “It seems her agent agrees to our terms, and they are sending a liaison with the documents to finalize.” He set the page down on the table and picked up his glass of port. “I do believe we are almost settled with the entirety of the preparations, and we can begin construction early next year!”

“That’s wonderful news, father,” TK said quietly, his tone not matching his words. He was looking down at his plate with no intention of picking up his fork, so he missed his father’s knowing and saddened expression. 

“It is. Another piece of news that I’ve gathered from earlier today, is that the Vanderbilts are throwing a ball tomorrow night. Well, I suppose Mrs. Vanderbilt is, at any rate, and Mr. Strickland asks if you can accompany him.”

“I don’t know, father. I’m not sure I’m feeling well enough to socialize on such a scale. I’ll be a bore to everyone there and then you will have to answer for my behavior.” 

“I don’t think you’d be a bore to Mr. Strickland, surely. He’s been asking after you these last few weeks. I daresay he plans to eventually kidnap you from your rooms if you do not answer his calls. Surely he’ll want to hear how you’re getting on?” His father’s transparency was apparent, but TK did not call him out on it. 

“I don’t know, father. I’m not quite well at the moment so I probably shouldn’t be gallivanting about at parties.”

“You are unwell because you refuse to eat or see sunlight,” Owen said, not unkindly. His next words were suffused with affection and it only made TK’s heart ache more. “My son, I worry for you. The whole household does. Mrs. Talbot says you only ate half the small sandwich she brought you last night. And you haven’t touched your soup yet since we’ve sat down. I worry you’ll be skin and bones before long.” His words weren’t scolding, only concerned.

“I’m sorry to worry you, father, and the servants. I just find it…difficult to keep anything down. It all tastes like ash, and I know that description would never do Mrs. Talbot’s cooking justice.” At this, he made a gamely attempt to sip a spoonful of soup, and found his assessments confirmed. He swallowed anyway, and kept the grimace off his face with great effort. 

“Tyler,” his father said in that affectionate tone once more, “You must try to move past your heartbreak. I know that’s what it is,” he said as TK made to interrupt him, “I know it when I look at your face and see only sadness. I know it when I hear from Michaels that you have not descended the stairs all day while I’ve been at the office. I know it because that single flower is still thriving at your bedside.” At this, he had the decency to look only slightly chagrined. TK said nothing.

“I looked in on you a few nights ago. You didn’t come down to dinner and I was worried you’d gone hungry again. Your sleep looked restless. I also noticed a letter from Miss Christina.”

“You went through my things?” TK said without any real malice. He knew his father meant well but he had put a lot of private thoughts into those letters and Christina had answered them in kind. 

“I only ascertained that she wishes to see snow. You should take her up on her request to ride the line once it is finished. I know she would love to see you again. And maybe by then, it will be less painful for you.” Owen’s face was drawn. 

“Maybe, in a year or two. For now I am content with her letters.”

“What does she write of her brother?” his father asked.

“Nothing, because I asked her not to,” TK replied. He again missed his father’s pained expression of concern as he took another forced sip of his soup from his spoon. His hand trembled slightly at the most direct mention of Carlos since his talk with Marjan earlier in the week. 

Owen seemed to take this answer as a plea to end the subject of conversation. He simply watched his son silently, wishing he could help ease his pain and knowing he was unable.

*

“Mr. Cartwright has not stopped staring in this direction since we sat down,” Paul remarked over the swell of the music, another quadrille beginning causing cheers and the shuffle of feet to the dance floor. 

“Perhaps he’s trying to figure out a way to ask you to dance,” TK answered as he sipped his brandy. Paul was a dear friend, and he was happy to be in his company, he just wished it didn’t have to be surrounded by laughing couples and a revelry he felt entirely apart from. 

His friend gave him an incredulous look. “Are you serious? He’s been shamelessly staring at you,” Paul countered. “He’s practically mapped out every thread in your coat, the cad.” 

“I doubt that. No amiable gentleman would give me a second glance as I look now. Maybe a few months ago, but not now. I’m well aware the color in my cheeks and the bulk of my frame have left me. The servants, my father, you, and Marjan remind me every day of that. How could I be any object of desire?”

It had been a full week since his first venture out of the house with Marjan—and nearly three months since his return from Texas—and TK was trying for his friends’ sake to get back out into the world. Hence accepting the invitation to a ball at the home of some debutante or another of their set, with Paul as his moral support should he feel the need to flee the social setting at his earliest convenience. TK was still trying to get used to other people around him being so happy and carefree when he himself wished to crawl into his bed and remain there until the second coming. 

He knew full well that his behavior wasn’t healthy. He’d made the decision himself to try and get past his heartbreak, lest it cripple him forever which definitely could not happen if he wanted to give his father any peace of mind. 

“My friend,” Paul chided kindly, “you’ve always been a vision, sought after by many a connected suitor. You haven’t lost your appeal I can promise you. We harp on your well-being because we care about how you’re feeling on the inside, and the outside is a good testament to that. I dare say it’s made you more desirable, at least to those who’ve mourned your absence since your trip, that you’ve stayed away. It inflates the intrigue.” He gave a small chuckle that TK tried to match. 

“Well I’m afraid Mr. Cartwright will have to find another object of desire. I do not believe I could content anyone as a courting partner as of now. I need a bit more time to settle back in, I think.” That was as diplomatic as TK could be about it. The reality was that he’d still been unable to remove thoughts of Mr. Reyes from his mind, and it grew more difficult every day. He absentmindedly reached into his jacket pocket and rubbed the delicate fabric of the handkerchief between his fingers, feeling the bumps and valleys of the embroidery, and almost smelling the sweet scent of the country in the air. 

He hadn’t noticed he’d closed his eyes until he felt a brush of air next to his face as a reveler approached their table. 

“Hello, Mr. Strand,” Mr. Cartwright beamed. It seemed he’d worked up the courage to approach after all. 

“Good evening. Are you enjoying the festivities?” He answered, attempting cordiality. 

“Of course. And yourself, Mr. Strand? Wouldn’t you better enjoy things in their midst than here on the periphery? Fancy a dance on the next waltz?” The man sounded so eager that TK almost obliged. But his honor would not let him lead the man on. 

“I’m afraid I’ve quite exhausted myself already,” he said, even though all he’d done was make one round and plop himself into his current seat since arriving. “I do apologize for being unavailable, but I’m sure there is someone else dying to catch your hand for a waltz. Please let me do them the favor of leaving you available.” 

It was almost comical the way the man’s face fell, but TK was not in danger of showing any glee at it on his face. He understood far to well the melancholy of unrequited affection. But alas, he could not feign interest at the moment, so he let the man trudge away with only a bit of guilt. 

“He’ll get over it,” he said when he caught Paul’s glance. 

“But will you?” It was clear he wasn’t talking about Mr. Cartwright.

TK didn’t answer. He could not. 

*

The day of the arrival of the Doña’s liaison dawned and once again TK could barely face the sunlight. He wished with all his heart that he could place the blame on too much of the good-natured debauchery that plagued his set when they got into their drinks, but he knew he could not. He’d barely partaken in a full glass of brandy with his father after dinner the night before. 

He felt some guilt at not hurrying down to meet the man at his father’s side, as would be expected of an only son in position to run his father’s business someday, but could barely bring himself to nibble at the scones Mrs. Talbot had sent up the night before.

Sooner or later, however, he knew he must face the day. He finally got himself dressed near luncheon time, deeming his appearance presentable enough for a middle manager he’d never meet again. 

He straightened his collar and pulled his lapels taut just before Michaels announced him upon entering the parlor. As he surveyed the scene before him, his stride halted, all breath left his lungs, and the color drained from his face. 

Seated on the settee across from his father and wearing the most disarmingly beautiful smile, eyes dancing in the sunlight filtering in through the damask curtains, was Carlos Reyes. 

The man had clearly just been given some wonderful news, though TK couldn’t imagine what his own father could have told him to elicit such a response, but it was plain on his face that he’d just been told something truly delightful. However, when his eyes strayed to the entrance to the room upon Michaels announcing TK’s presence, the smile on his face faded slowly to a deep concern. TK didn’t miss the subtle perusal of his person, Carlos looking over his face with a slight furrow of his brow that grew deeper the longer TK stood there dumbfounded. 

Mr. Reyes, of course, was the first to remember his manners, though his employment of them seemed over the top to TK. He’d jumped up and nearly ran over to TK, taking his elbow in hand ever so gently as if the touch was nothing. As if it didn’t send TK’s whole world tilting. 

“Mr. Strand! I…please, sit. Should I fetch some water? You look like you’ll be ill any moment…” He sounded almost…afraid. Not disgusted and annoyed as TK thought he might have been upon their next meeting. After all, TK was the one who’d made a fool of himself by pining like an imbecile in front of the Reyes’ family and friends. He could only imagine how much Mr. Reyes regretted their time together, now that he’d had a few months to ponder it. 

“I’m alright, Mr. Reyes, thank you,” TK managed to croak out as the man ushered him to a chair across the room, seemingly careful as not to touch him. 

He must be master of himself! This was almost more embarrassing than what had initially transpired between them in Texas. “I…hadn’t known that you’d be coming as your mother’s agent. I was only…surprised to see you. Here.” He forced his lips to stop moving.

Mr. Reyes’ face had yet to lose it’s pinched brow and shining eyes. What TK had initially catalogued as fear now looked like…concern. But that was impossible. Only, maybe not, since Mr. Reyes was a quite honorable and sensible man, and TK knew he looked gaunt and lifeless on his best days lately.

Turning to look at his father, TK only noticed that he too was focused on Mr. Reyes, and TK couldn’t quite place his expression. He’d been smiling as well when TK entered, and now he seemed a bit subdued but no less mirthful. It was an odd juxtaposition. Just then, he turned to his son and gave him a gentle smile.

“Well, I must be off. Quite a bit to get finalized with the documents you’ve brought me.” He stood and offered a hand to Mr. Reyes. “How long did you say you’d be in the city?”

“A few days, sir. I had hoped…well, my mother wishes me to return with everything in order,” he answered cryptically as they shook. His face was hopeful though TK couldn’t think why. They had pretty well come to a mutually beneficial agreement through correspondence. The rest was simply formality at this point. He couldn’t think what else would need to be settled. 

“I’m sure she does,” Owen said with a smile and another odd look at TK. He could not figure what to make of the exchange, but truth be told he was still reeling from Carlos—Mr. Reyes, he reminded himself—being in his home so unexpectedly. 

His father was turning to him next. “Tyler, would you be a gentleman and show Mr. Reyes about for a bit? I’m sure he’d like to stretch his legs after his long journey. You could take a taxi to the Park?”

TK fought the urge to gape at his father. He expected them to be…alone? What would they even discuss? TK wished the Turkish rug’s threads would open up and sew him into the floor. 

He was however, as his father said, a gentleman, and he could not let his manners slip no matter how much he wished to be anywhere but alone in the confines of a taxi and then in the beautiful intimacy of the Park at dusk with Carlos Reyes. 

“Of course, father. It would be my pleasure.” Somehow the words left his lips without a tremble. Or so he hoped. He did not think his father could be so cruel, knowing TK’s heart. 

Mr. Reyes looked half ecstatic and half terrified. TK could relate whole-heartedly. 

As Owen bid them good night and made to ascend the stairs to his study, TK slowly turned to look at his circumstantial companion. Here they were once again, thrust into each other. TK thought back to that first morning they’d toured the ranch together; Mr. Reyes had been cordial, despite their initial meeting and his own hesitation about the Strand’s business with his family. He’d been courteous and knowledgable about the land, wishing to give TK a good impression which TK in turn appreciated. 

He vowed to himself he would attempt to do the same when showing Mr. Reyes his own home. 

With somewhat renewed countenance, TK took a breath. “Well, shall we, Mr. Reyes?” His voice barely shook. The man in question gave him a fond smile that melted TK’s very soul.

“Lead the way, Mr. Strand.”

*

The taxi ride proved to undo all of TK’s borrowed confidence. Sitting so close their knees brushed reminded him of riding through the apple orchard, which in turn reminded him of Carlos’ hand in his, which set his heart fluttering and mind whirling, which led to an awkward silence the likes of which TK never wanted to experience again. Mr. Reyes was waiting for him to speak, it seemed—as TK was ostensibly his guide in this place unfamiliar to him—and he was thoroughly incapable. All that accompanied them was the clap of the horses’ hooves on the stones and both their nervous breathing. 

When they arrived at the southwest corner of the Central Park, TK paid the driver and slipped out before Mr. Reyes could offer him a hand. He knew not what he would do if he felt that warmth upon his skin again in his current state. The other man looked a bit let down, but TK dismissed it as a trick of his longing imagination. 

They entered and set about the promenade which, even at this time of the evening, was still thronged with late perusers. As they walked among the fresh grass and beautiful tree lined paths, TK did his best to drum up the wherewithal to speak, to offer some manner of conversation lest he seem rude in his silence.

“I suppose it looks rather…artificial to you,” he said quietly. 

Mr. Reyes startled a bit, apparently accustomed to TK’s lack of voice thus far, but he recovered quickly with an eager smile turned to his companion. 

“Not at all! It’s all very…whimsical I think. This beautiful bounty of nature preserved in the middle of all that stone and brick. It’s…peaceful.”

“Yes,” TK thought aloud. “It’s quite serene. The further in you go, the less the city outside of it seems real. The sounds and smog melt away and you just feel…” he trailed off, words failing.

“Like we’re in our own little Eden.” Carlos’ eyes were like pools of shining dark chocolate in the gaslamp light. Sweet and alluring. 

TK could only nod dumbly, and try to look away. He accomplished it with much difficulty. 

They walked in a much softer silence for a time, passing a couple of people TK recognized from parties and balls around the city, but they never stopped to converse with anyone. Mr. Reyes seemed to want to keep his company for himself, which TK could not think what to do about, so he remained passively quiet. 

About half an hour into their journey, his companion spoke. 

“I’ve actually got something I’d like to…well, first there’s something I…I need to tell you.” Carlos’ face was unreadable, but his tone was quiet and reserved. TK’s heart clenched painfully. Carlos had been in an odd countenance since his arrival, and TK could only attribute it to the awkwardness surrounding his ridiculous assumptions about Carlos’ feelings and the utter embarrassment of his departure from Texas. 

“Oh?” was all he said, suddenly breathless with an ache he could barely stand. 

“I’m not sure if you were informed when you last visited, but—” he paused for so long, TK turned to look at him at his side, wondering what halted his speech. His face was still unreadable, but his voice now had a very slight tremble to it. TK tried to keep his own face open, so that Mr. Reyes felt safe to continue. 

“For several years now I have had an...understanding. With a gentleman from California, with whom my family is quite acquainted.”

The vice around TK’s heart clenched cruelly at the reminder. “Yes, Mr. de Castillo. Your mother and sisters—and some of those from the county—told me about him. Quite admired, he is, by all.”

“Yes…” His voice trailed off into silence again, and this time when TK sneaked a look he seemed troubled. TK wished he could put the man’s fears at ease, that if he feared a faux pas in tearing down TK’s feelings that he needn’t worry about it.

But that would have been a lie.

“Yes,” he said again, going on. “We’ve actually been courting these last months, not long after yours and your father’s departure.”

TK took the blow as best he could, with a calm countenance, when really he wished this torturous conversation would end so that he could limp back to his bed and curl up in misery until the second coming. Why on earth did Carlos feel the need to do this? Weren’t they settled in being apart from each other? No more than business acquaintances? 

The thought alone dealt his heart another painful blow. 

“About a month ago he—he called on me to...state his intentions.” His voice sounded flatter than TK would assume from a happily engaged man. Still, he tried to inject some light into his own tone when he answered.

“I am so happy for you, Car—Mr. Reyes,” he said with as much enthusiasm as he could muster which, admittedly, was not very much at all.

However, his tone must have belied his utter devastation because Mr. Reyes abruptly stopped and gently tugged him to the side of the path, so that they would not impede other couples on the promenade. TK almost swooned at the touch.

“I’m sorry?” the other man said, a look of confusion and slight hurt across his beautiful eyes. TK was now confused as well.

“I...I only wish to convey my happiness on your engagement. You must be thrilled to have your future finally settled. Not only must it be a relief, but with such a fine gentleman as I have heard.” Carlos’ hand was still lightly holding onto his upper arm, and though it pained TK in the worst way to do it, he ever so deftly maneuvered his body so that the contact was dropped. 

“I think that...well I...that is…” Carlos was staring at him, that hurt look growing in his brown eyes and TK wanted nothing more than to take it away but he didn’t know how.

“Mr. Strand—TK,” he said so softly that TK could hear his own heart beat in the silence. “I think that you have...misunderstood me.” TK had been staring at a spot over Carlos’ shoulder until then, unable to meet his eyes any longer for fear he’d burst into tears in the middle of Central Park, but at the plea he shifted his watery gaze back to sink into the pools of liquid chocolate in front of him. 

“Mr. de Castillo—Fernando, that is—has proposed marriage to me, it’s true—” In the minuscule pause between these words and the next set, TK felt his heart slow to a stop with the inexorable weight set upon it by this conversation, “—but I have turned him down.”

And at this, that traitorous heart gave one slow, painful beat of hope that TK was powerless to tamp down. 

When he could find his voice, it was to incredulously say, “Whatever for?” 

Carlos reached down to take TK’s hand in his, and TK was sure he was trembling like a sheaf of paper caught in the wind. He brought it between both his hands, brushing the knuckles ever so lightly—so much so that TK was sure he’d imagined it. 

“Because I could not marry a man that I do not love, and I do not love Fernando. No matter how much of a wonderful and kind gentleman he is, and no matter how ashamed and saddened it made me to tell him so. But I cannot betray my own heart.”

TK’s legs were going to give out any moment. He had no other thought in his head but staying upright, using that tentative hold on his hand, still gentle as ever, as his anchor. He dare not let his thoughts follow themselves to any conclusions. 

“The truth is, TK, my heart belongs to another. It has for some time, and I was too stubborn with misplaced loyalty to give it a say. That is, until now. Which is why I imparted the information to you.”

TK kept staring into the man’s eyes, wondering if this was all some dream he’d tumbled into in slumber. He was sure this must be his own mind conjuring the conversation, guilty as it was of yearning for it. 

“I wish to apologize for taking so very long to come to my senses. I always strive to be honorable, and for a time I thought that meant that I must remain true to Fernando. But I’ve been made to realize that my thinking was wrong.” TK could only take the words in stride, adrift as he was on the roaring sea of his emotions. 

The man continued, while TK himself was made to listen to the most illogical combination of words his brain could have come up with in his current state. He was still convinced he was dreaming. Carlos reaching down and taking both his hands did nothing to bring him out of said state. Furthermore, it made him feel as if he was about to float away into the stars, unmoored as he was except for those twin points of contact. 

“You are the most optimistic, brilliant, engaging creature I have ever known. Your smile could light up a room if every candle failed. I find myself riveted any time you’ve got an anecdote to tell, and in these months of not hearing your voice I have conjured it in my dreams more times than I care to admit.

“I wish to spend the rest of my days making you smile and laugh, waking with the morning sunshine just to see how it dapples your face, and admiring you from across the dinner table every single evening for the rest of my life. TK, if I have been mistaken, and you do not return my affections, please stop me from making a further fool of myself.” This he said with a little nervous chuckle that cut straight through TK’s very soul. He looked up through his lashes at TK, nervous. 

TK, in turn, was struck dumb by the confession. Carlos apparently took this as a queue to continue to the most preposterously happy thing that had yet to be uttered in this very winding conversation that had had TK’s heart in knots since it began. 

“Mr. Strand. If I have not been remiss in my assumptions of your affection, I urge you, no I beg you to consider my humble plea. Would you consent to be my husband? It would make me the happiest man in the entire world.”

TK felt himself take in a slow, careful breath. It took several moments for him to find his voice, and then it was only to utter on a half-expelled gasp, “Truly?” 

“Yes, truly,” was the nearly equally breathless answer.

Again, it was a struggle to find volume behind the utter euphoria that had overtaken him, but soon enough, he pushed the words out in a little more than a whisper, lest he accidentally shout and call undue attention. “Then, yes. Yes!” Tears were already warming his cheeks and chin, but TK didn’t care a wit. He went easily as Carlos embraced him tightly, feeling warmth suffusing his entire body at every place they touched. 

Before long, they had to part, lest they invite accusations of impropriety.

“I…I had thought…well it doesn’t matter now I suppose,” he stammered, thoughts swirling with emotion and unable to tamp them down. Not wanting to. 

“I apologize again for taking so long. Your smile, your face is all I’ve thought about for months. The moment you were gone my heart sank to the deepest depths.”

“Mine as well,” TK admitted. “I have…neglected myself these last few months, I’m afraid. I thought I could learn to forget you in time, but alas…”

“When you entered the parlor, I was distraught to see you looking unwell. Please, I beg of you, please take care of yourself. I don’t know what I would do if…”

“I know. I apologize for my appearance. I did not mean to give you cause for concern.”

Carlos briefly reached up to touch TK’s slightly sunken cheek. “I hope you can forgive me, for it is my silence that has caused you such distress, but I also find myself elated that you feel the same as I do. I can still scarcely believe it.” His voice was rising with happiness, and TK felt drunk on it like the sweetest wine. “I must admit, though, I cannot claim full responsibility for coming to my senses. Christina was quite adamant that I was being an imbecile.”

TK looked down at the ground for a moment. “I…asked her—no, begged her really—not to speak of you in our correspondence.”

“She told me. It’s why I—“ Carlos stopped abruptly, looking chagrined. 

“What is it?” TK asked.

“Well I…I knew you did not want to speak to me, but I just had to…that is I…I sent you…something. I wrote a letter and signed her name to it. She laughed about it later, but she called me an utter fool for not being more courageous about it.

TK halted in the middle of the path. Immediately, he knew. He reached into the inside pocket of his jacket, pulling out a delicate fold of linen edged in bright yellow. He held it gently in his fingers, caressing the soft folds that had cemented themselves after so long kept in his pocket. 

Even in the lamplight, he could see Carlos’ face flush slightly. 

“I wanted to court you properly, but circumstances were…well. In the end I was cowardly about it I suppose.” He ducked his head bashfully. 

“I think, deep down, I knew. I didn’t want to let myself believe, but…I’d never spoken to Christina about the wildflowers.” TK’s own voice was reverent. 

“She told me that. When I told her what I’d done, she told me you would see right through it.”

“You called me beloved…”

Carlos looked deep into his eyes. “Yes.”

TK nearly swooned again, new tears dripping down his cheeks which were positively sore with how much he was smiling. He tucked the treasure back into his jacket.

“We’ll have to tell my father, I suppose,” he said after a time, absolutely giddy as they began to walk along the path again, back to the streets toward the Strands’ home. 

“Oh, I wouldn’t worry about that. I’ve already gotten his blessing,” Carlos answered with a smug grin to answer TK’s astonished expression. “That’s what we were talking about earlier today, before you interrupted us.”

“Well, you’ve thought of everything haven’t you?”

“I think I’d like very badly to kiss you, but I’ll hold off. Wouldn’t want anything to jeopardize your good opinion of me, would we?’ His smile was absolutely radiant. TK thought to himself that if this were to be his life, staring at this gorgeous face full of love for all his days, he’d never be unhappy again. 

*

The fire was dying down and Carlos finally moved to take his leave. 

“Must you go?” TK couldn’t quite keep the pout from his voice, but at least now, he did not care too much if Carlos heard it.

“I’ve stayed too long as it is, people will talk,” he answered with an indulgent smile as TK walked him out of the parlor and into the hallway. The servants had long gone to bed, so it was up to TK himself to help Carlos on with his coat. 

“You’re my fiance now,” he said, glowing all the while and unable to help it. “People will have to get used to the fact that I want to be around you every waking moment of the day without pause.”

“Yes, but no one knows that yet and I wouldn’t want to besmirch your good name.” 

“When will I see you again, then?” He slid the overcoat onto broad shoulders, nearly letting his fingers linger a bit too long for propriety.

“I’ll call tomorrow to meet with your father again. We do have actual business to finalize after all. You’ll be there, won’t you?” Now it was Carlos’ turn to pout a bit, and TK was powerless against it. 

“Of course. Well, I’ll say good night.” He looked up into the face of the most beautiful man, the man he was going to spend the rest of his unbelievably happy days with. 

“Good night, my heart,” said Carlos, reaching up a hand to caress TK’s face so gently it caused an aching pang in his heart. Slowly, carefully, he moved his calloused thumb across TK’s lips, back and forth a few times as if trying to memorize the shape of them. TK gave a small shudder.

“My, Mr. Reyes, you’re being very forward.” He couldn’t help smiling. As the man had not removed his hand yet, TK pursed his lips ever so slightly, bestowing a chaste kiss against his thumb.

Carlos chuckled softly, covering an intake of breath. “Now who’s forward?” He was smiling so wide it looked as if it hurt.

“You’re my fiance,” TK answered against the warm skin, the word still feeling like glistening honey in his mouth, “I can be as forward as I like.”

“God in heaven, I want to kiss you.” Carlos looked like he might do it, but restrained himself as a gentleman should. They’d pushed the bounds of propriety enough for one day, TK supposed. Though he would have welcomed it gladly, as clandestine and salacious as it would have been. After a few more strokes, Carlos finally dropped his hand from TK’s face. “This will have to do for now, I suppose.” He took TK’s own hand in his and laid a gentle kiss against his knuckles. 

“But not for long?” 

“No, my heart. Not for long. I won’t be able to do with a long engagement. I will perish before I make it to the church if you make me wait for more than a couple of months.”

“I’ll see what I can do. But my father will want to invite the whole of New York, so you know.” He couldn’t help a roll of his eyes, however fond the gesture was. His father loved a good party, and the marriage of his only son—finally, he would probably say—was sure to prove one for the ages. 

“Ah, yes, and we mustn’t forget the entirety of the county back home, if my mother and Christina have anything to say about it,” Carlos said with another fond chuckle. “You have her to thank, by the way. For getting me out of my head and back on solid ground. My sister is your champion in sickness and in health. That is, until I get to call you my husband.”

TK shuddered again at the mere word. 

“I really should go,” Carlos said again. He made no move toward the door. 

“You really should,” TK prompted. He moved to open the door, and finally they broke their gaze from each other. 

As Carlos stepped out, he turned to smile one last time and it turned TK’s stomach into a whole flock of butterflies. “Good night, dearest. I’ll call on you and your father tomorrow.”

“I will be dying a slow death until that moment breathes me back to life,” TK lamented.

“As will I.”

TK watched him walk away into the night before finally closing the door against the chill of the Manhattan midnight. For several long moments, he simply leaned against the door and caught his breath, giving thanks to all the forces that managed to bring the two of them together so favorably. He’d have to write to Christina the moment he woke in the morning. 

[grasslandgirl]

Um, yes PLEASE write the Beverlin!

aaaaahhhhh lizz i wrote this AGES ago like the whole thing in the span of 24 hrs and kept meaning to post it and then forgetting to and blah blah blah and then here we are. anyway. she's long and sappy sorry not sorry

read golden as I open my eyes here on ao3!!

It was the kind of perfect summer evening that Beverly thought only happened in movies. They got ice cream from the local shop down the street after hanging out at the park all day, and an evening summer storm caught them mere minutes after Erlin had finally finished his cone on the walk home. The rain was cool against the hot concrete, a refreshing baptism following the heat of the summer day. The kind of day where everything was warm and joyous, and even sudden rushing rain couldn’t wash it away. They ran back to Erlin’s house, laughing and shouting, kicking the puddles forming in the street at one another- they were soaked already, what was the harm of a little more?

Beverly felt effortlessly young and happy, like he and Erlin were seven again and the world was simple. The pressure from his dad and school and the creeping uncertainty that’d started to follow Bev everywhere he went were washed away; and it was just him and Erlin.

He loved Erlin, of course. Loved him, maybe, as long as he’d known him. They’d been best friends for as long as Bev could remember, almost all of his early childhood memories included Erlin attached at his hip. It was the easy kind of childhood friendship where loving each other was never in question- until Bev turned fifteen and realized that he didn’t love Derlin or Cran the way he loved Erlin. That he didn’t imagine a life with his other friends, stretching forever into the future, like he did with Erlin. That he felt an awkward, twisting sensation in his stomach when he remembered the times they pretended to get married as children- huddled under a tree in Beverly’s back yard, holding hands, Bev with his mother’s apron draped over his shoulders, Erlin with flowers from their garden in his hair, promising to be best friends forever.

The feeling hung over Bev’s shoulders, the twin terrors of spending the rest of his life with his heart in a wrench everytime Erlin smiled at him, or telling Erlin the truth, only to lose him entirely.

But in the warm summer air, with cool rain droplets falling on his face and shoulders, Bev let the worry and the fear slough off- if only for the night. Nothing bad could happen; not when Erlin was laughing at him like he was, not when Bev could reach out and wipe a stray raindrop off the tip of Erlin’s nose, not when Erlin blushed bright red and watched Bev with wide eyes. They were electric and indestructible.

They were both soaked to the bone when they scrambled up the stairs to Erlin’s house, bursting through the door still laughing. Egwene shot them a glare from her perch at the kitchen island, but even that couldn’t break Bev’s giddy joy, not when Erlin was still giggling into his shoulder- both of them laughing at nothing. Egwene rolled her eyes, scowling back down at her book, but Bev caught the edge of a smile as he glanced back over his shoulder at her, before Erlin dragged him out of the kitchen and into the back of the house.

Erlin shoved an old t-shirt and a pair of sweats into Bev’s arms and pushed him towards the bathroom- “Take a shower, dude,” he demanded, the edge of his voice undermined by the fact that he still couldn’t stop laughing, his smile gone soft and slant. “You’re not getting sick again on my watch.” They fell into another peal of laughter, silently remembering when Bev caught a miserable head cold sleeping over at Erlin’s a few years past. Waking up to Erlin hovering over him, soup and tea in hand, before promptly spilling the long-since-lukewarm liquids all over Beverly as he sat up.

Bev had spent more nights at the Kindleaf house than he could count, the smell of Erlin’s shampoo was as familiar and comforting as his own. There was always a certain secret thrill whenever he ended up having to shower at Erlin’s. The idea of spending the next few days smelling like Erlin, his spiced mint shampoo and conditioner, wondering if Erlin noticed it as much as Beverly did.

When he finished, Bev threw his soaking clothes into the dryer- Erlin’s were already in there- and started it. He shot his mom a quick text that he was sleeping over at Erlin’s- an occurrence so common it barely warranted a warning text anymore- and shuffled through the suddenly silent house towards Erlin’s room.

Erlin was perched on his bed, hair soft and damp from his own shower, face lit from below as he peered down at his phone. The t-shirt he was wearing was a couple sizes too big- maybe one of Egwene’s old high school sports shirts, if Bev had to guess- and it draped over his shoulder and bunched up at his hip where his leg was propped up, knee to his chest. He hadn’t noticed Bev silently hovering at the door yet, and Beverly had the heartwrenching opportunity to watch Erlin at rest, in a quiet moment of solitude, unaware he was being watched.

Bev wrapped the image up in his mind, tying it with a bow and placing it on a shelf for safe keeping. He’d imagined a life, a future like this with Erlin more times than he could count- living together, sharing a room like this, seeing Erlin before bed every night and first thing in the morning every day. He could imagine a thousand moments like this, spread out over a lifetime; snapshots of intimacy and privacy taken from the inside of his and Erlin’s life together.

Beverly broke the moment, pushing the door to Erlin’s room wider as he walked in so it would squeak. Erlin looked up with a tired smile, reaching over to the lamp on his bedside table and clicking it on. The lamp cast a small bubble of golden light, Erlin and Bev on opposite edges of it.

Erlin had a trundle bed, a smaller mattress underneath his bed frame that rolled out on wheels, that he’d already pulled out and thrown a pillow atop of for Beverly. He’d loved the trundle when they were little, had thought it was so cool that Erlin had a built in place for him to sleep when he spent the night.

But the quiet, greedy part of Bev- the one that saved memories of Erlin blushing when he touched his face, the one that daydreamed about an impossible life together- wished they’d gotten rid of the second bed years ago. Wished that maybe, if there wasn’t a second mattress, Bev could come up with a reason for them to sleep together in Erlin’s bed. Innocent, back to back, with space enough for Egwene between them. But still, close enough that Bev could maybe feel Erlin’s warmth through his t-shirt, that maybe they’d wake up curled into each other.

More impossible dreams.

The shared giddy laughter had finally faded away, leaving them quiet and warm in the afterglow. Bev sat and settled cross legged on the little trundle bed, the old metal frame creaking slightly under his weight.

“Pancakes tomorrow?” Erlin asked.

Bev couldn’t help his grin. “Yes, obviously. The superior breakfast food.”

“Don’t let your mom’s sticky buns hear you say that sacrilege, dude.”

“Sticky buns are an all day food, not an explicitly breakfast food, Erlin. Duh.”

Erlin snickered quietly into his hand, and Bev felt the warm glow in his chest he felt every time he made Erlin laugh like that. “Okay, okay, fair enough.” Erlin reached over and put his phone down on his bedside table. Beverly tried not to look at the sliver of pale stomach that peeked out from beneath his overlarge t shirt as he leaned over. “You all set for the night?” Erlin asked, glancing at the blanket folded carefully atop the pillow beside Bev on the trundle bed.

Bev nodded, swallowing the gut desire to say something about sleeping in Erlin’s bed instead. “All good, dude. See you in the morning.” Erlin smiled at him again, a tired, happy thing, and clicked the bedside lamp off again, plunging them into perfect darkness.

Bev shuffled as quietly as he could under the blanket, burying his face in his pillow. He could still hear the rain outside falling on the roof, how the trees groaned and whipped in the wind. He tried to focus on that, as opposed to Erlin’s slow, heavy breathing. He was only marginally successful.

Bev fell asleep quickly, Erlin’s snuffling breaths and the hard patter of rain turning into a lullabye, and his body was still heavy and tired from running home through the rain.

He woke up, hours later, to the thin trundle mattress shifting but a sudden new weight.

At first, Bev thought it was just Erlin trying to climb out of bed- probably to use the bathroom- and stepping onto Bev’s mattress as he did. But as the mattress continued to shift, Bev realized Erlin wasn’t using the mattress as a stepping stone to get to his bedroom floor. He was lying down beside Beverly.

Bev’s eyes snapped open as a line of anxious ice trailed down his spine, reaching out with all his senses to try and figure out what was going on. He couldn’t see much beyond vague shadowy shapes in the darkness of the bedroom- the line of streetlight peeking out from beneath the window’s blinds, the outline of Erlin’s desk against the pale wall behind it, the curl of Erlin’s hair as he buried his face in his pillow. Beverly blinked away sleep, straining to make out the line of Erlin’s body. The curve of his head into his neck and shoulders, disappearing below the blanket Bev was using, the line of his spine into his legs, his bare feet peeking out the edge of the blanket. His face was buried in his pillow, scrunched up between the pillow Beverly was using and the edge of Erlin’s bed frame, his whole body curled into the small space like a small animal looking for safety. Beverly couldn’t tell if he was awake, or whether Erlin had crawled into bed with Beverly in a fit of sleepwalking- sleepcrawling? Either way, that’s probably what had woken Beverly up, the abrupt weight of Erlin crawling into bed beside him, settling onto the thin mattress. Erlin’s shoulder was no more than an inch from the center of Beverly’s chest, where he had been asleep, curled onto his side. If either of them shifted even a little, they would be touching.

Then, a quiet snuffle. Erlin shook his head and buried his nose further into his pillow- Beverly didn’t know how he could breathe like that, but if he strained, he could still hear it. Erlin’s breathing sounded different than it had when they were first falling asleep; faster, almost wet sounding, like he was- was Erlin crying?

Bev’s breath caught in his chest, and slowly he lifted his hand and placed it gently on the back of Erlin’s shoulder. He heard the snuffling sound again, and then felt Erlin sigh beneath his hand. And then, as though Erlin had never woken up, Beverly heard his breathing slow and deepen, his spine going loose beneath Bev’s palm. He was asleep. In bed with Beverly. Part of him wanted to shake Erlin awake again, ask why he was crying and why he crawled in bed with him and what did this mean?

But Bev was still exhausted, and half asleep, and the initial adrenaline of waking up had faded, leaving him in a room silent save for Erlin’s breathing. It felt dreamlike, as though Bev would blink and wake up to the early-morning sunrise, Erlin asleep in his own bed again. Bev didn’t want to question it, didn’t crave answers enough to shatter the dream- real or otherwise- he’d found himself in. So he closed his eyes, let himself listen to Erlin’s even breathing, and fell back asleep.

When Beverly blinked awake again, it was morning, and the moment in the middle of the night felt like nothing more than a sugar-sweet dream. The sunlight tore through the crack at the bottom of Erlin’s blinds, washing his room in burning golden light. It took Bev’s eyes a moment to adjust, a yawn hiking up in his chest as he started to stretch out.

All at once, his arm bumped into something warm and firm and Bev’s eyes adjusted enough to catch a pair of pale feet peeking out from beneath the edge of the blanket.

Erlin.

Beverly’s eyes snapped towards Erlin’s bed and caught on his best friend, lying on his side facing Beverly, still tucked between Bev and his bed frame. Still lying next to Bev. The fuzzy memory from the middle of the night slotted back into place, and Bev was suddenly aware of his feet tucked against Erlin’s shins; that he’d shifted, searching for warmth in the middle of the night.

Erlin was awake, his eyes soft and open, watching Bev with the kind of tentative warmth that Beverly recognized from inside his own chest, everytime he looked at Erlin.

“Oh,” Bev breathed, his arm settling back against the mattress from where he’d frozen, mid-stretch.

“Good morning?”

“You’re… really here. I thought I dreamed you.” Beverly mumbled, his brain still foggy with sleep, struggling to put the pieces together.

Erlin flushed, and Bev let himself watch how it started at his ears and spread inwards, along the line of his cheeks and up to his nose until his whole face was red. “I woke you up?”

“Only a little,” Bev tried for a joke, and Erlin smiled slightly, acknowledging.

“I… um-”

“Nightmare?”

Erlin nodded. “My parents. And Egwene, this time, and Nana. And-” he hesitated, scanning Beverly’s face- “and you.” A confession that Bev could almost piece together.

“Oh,” Bev breathed, the word punched from his chest.

“I’m sorry, I should’ve asked, I just- I wanted to know I wasn’t alone, but it felt silly to wake you-”

“Erlin. It’s fine. I- I didn’t mind.” That wasn’t fully true. “I liked it. I like waking up to you.” A confession in response, and Bev watched with bated breath as realization broke out over Erlin’s face.

“Oh.”

“Is that okay? I don’t- you’re my best friend, Erlin, and that means everything to me, and I don’t want to lose that. You. But- I just. I think about it. Sleeping beside you, and holding your hand when we go to the movies, and buying your ice cream for you, and all the little-”

“Boyfriend things?” Erlin whispered, his voice full of barely-veiled hope.

“Yeah.”

“Oh.” Erlin shifted forward on the mattress, just a little. “Kissing?”

Bev could barely find the breath to answer, terrified that one wrong move, one wrong word, and everything would come crumbling down around his ears. “Yeah.” Again, louder, more certain, “Yeah.” And then the important part, “What about-”

But before Beverly could finish his question, Erlin’s palm was on his cheek and he was leaning forward and then his lips were on Bev’s. They were warm and slightly dry and Bev could smell Erlin’s deodorant and shampoo and Erlin was kissing him. Bev combed his hand into Erlin’s curls- something he’d thought about doing more times than he wanted to admit- and pulled him closer, until their chests were touching and Bev felt electricity arc down his spine. Erlin’s hand was a warm, grounding presence on his face, and Erlin kept it there even when he eventually pulled away. His pupils were blown wide, all traces of sleepiness wiped from his face, and his cheeks were burned fire engine red.

“Yeah,” Erlin echoed, breathless for a different reason now. “Me too.”

Bev pulled his hand out of Erlin’s hair and wrapped it around the hand Erlin was still holding against his face, twisting their fingers together. Erlin’s flicked between their hands and Bev’s eyes. “Let me take you to dinner,” Bev said, more a plea than a question.

“Like a-”

“A date. Erlin Kindleaf, I’ve been thinking about this for years, please let me take you on a date.”

“Yeah, dude, yeah, yes-” And then Erlin kissed him again.

It was even better the second time. Erlin tilted his head a little so their mouths slotted together and his hand was still cradling Bev’s cheek. Bev dragged his hand up Erlin’s chest, wrapping his fingers around the place where his shoulder turned into his spine turned into the nape of his neck. Bev had always wondered what the softly curling hairs there felt like. Now he got to find out, twisting his fingers gently through them and pulling Erlin ever closer. Their noses bumped as Erlin sat up, sitting on his knees and shuffling forward until they pressed into Bev’s side on the mattress. Erlin’s hand finally moved from his face to grab onto his shoulder, and gently ran his other hand along Bev’s side- hip to stomach to ribs. Bev broke away as Erlin dragged his fingers along a ticklish spot on his ribs, tucking his face into the soft space at the top of Erlin’s shoulder with a helpless giggle.

It felt like they were back in the pouring rain from the night before, when everything was washed in blue light and cool water, the hot asphalt steaming as the rain evaporated. Where everything was light and joyous and exhilarating. Bev could feel Erlin laughing breathlessly, the way his shoulders jumped under Bev’s forehead, how his head shook with tiny rolling laughs. His hair brushed against Bev’s face, soft and smelling like the same herbal shampoo he’d used the night before.

It was that, more than Erlin agreeing to go on a date or kissing him, that finally made Bev realize that this was real. That he could have the kind of life he’d always wanted with Erlin; hundreds of nights curled into each other as they slept, arguing over who could pay for who’s dinner, making out at the movies during the credits (because neither of them would want to miss the rest of the film).

The morning was golden as Bev sat up and started to pepper Erlin’s face with tiny kisses until they were both laughing too hard to breathe.

Hours or minutes later, Egwene knocked briefly before ducking her head through the door to Erlin’s room- giving them barely enough time to leap apart, sprawled on opposite sides of the tiny trundle bed, red-faced and still shaking with laughter. She raised a silent eyebrow, but didn’t comment.

“Nana’s making breakfast, fuckers.” Her eyes jumped between Beverly and her brother, her forced scowl failing to hide the smile in her eyes. “Quit giggling to each other, let’s go.” She ducked back out of Erlin’s room leaving the door cracked as she stomped down the hall. Bev turned and grinned at Erlin, knowing it was as good as a blessing they were ever going to get.

“Pancakes?”

“Yeah.” Erlin grabbed Bev’s hand, dragging them both finally to their feet. “But not too many, we have dinner plans tonight.”

Bev pressed another kiss, quick and full of promise, to Erlin’s mouth. “Okay.”

The morning was golden, Bev could already smell the pancakes cooking, and he finally saw the future he wanted spread out before him; hand in hand with Erlin.

[cloudshapedpatch]

Bells and Whistles

Happy Holidays @ghostlyhamburger, I’m your Lovesquare Obsessed Secret Santa! I hope you enjoy this very indulgent soulmate au 💚🌸

* * * *

Music. It’s all around, and yet, it never gets old. How? How does an arrangement of notes and sounds create wonderful music capable of bringing deep joy and sadness?

Everyone knows people love music. Archeologists always seem to be finding older and simpler instruments used by early humankind. People just love to create their own sounds, if not for their own enjoyment, or perhaps to attempt to share the songs in their heads with others.

For Marinette, it was no different than everyone else. Her song. The leitmotif that seemed to always play in her head. And she could not get it to be quiet. Just once, she wished to take a school test and be able to focus on her paper, and not the wispy bells meant only for her own ears.

It was a nice melody, and the universe had made it just for her (and for her soulmate, but she wasn’t too concerned with this fact at the moment). She never grew tired of it, thank kwami, but it also meant she could never go very long without hearing it. And how the universe loved to play the tune in the least convenient times.

30 chimes of bells.

What is the circumference of a circle that has a diameter of 8 inches?

30 chimes of bells.

What’s 8 times pi?

30 damned chimes of bells.

Marinette let her head drop onto her desk, letting the lone bells play out a couple more times. She only resumed her math test once it seemed it was done.

Thus was a normal occurrence for most people. It still annoyed her.

Her teacher gave Marinette a sympathetic look as she handed in her completed test, bells still ringing in her head.

“Why don’t you just go look for your soulmate?” Alya had suggested one night as they watched a movie.  

“I don’t wanna rush it.” Marinette had lied a little too easily for her liking.  

“You know if you do, your tune will get beautifuller and—”

“And I’ll get to control when I hear it, yeah yeah.” Marinette tossed a few unpopped popcorn kernels at Alya, a wide smile on her face. “And beautifuller isn’t a word.”

“Whatever!” Alya had laughed then, a really joyous, belly-shaking laugh. As they continued to watch their movie, Marinette could tell Alya was playing her own symphony in her head (she always smiled like the biggest love-sick goofball).

Alya was among the lucky few who found her soulmate quite young. It always brought a smile to Marinette’s face when the young couple spoke of the day they realized. Although, Marinette always had to swallow her pride because she couldn’t let anyone know she was the one who had locked them in that fateful zoo cage.

Speaking of, Alya was leading Marinette out of the classroom, saying something about the test, but Marinette didn’t hear her. She was too busy with her own thoughts about songs and soulmates.

Surprisingly, Nino was the first to notice Marinette’s dazed state. His ‘You good?’ was accompanied with a familiar smile; the one that told her she had missed everything he had said.

Marinette blinked her thoughts away. “Yeah! Yeah, just thinking. What’s up?”

“Alya and I were saying we were gonna play UMS 3 at my house, wanna come make it a tournament?”

Marinette’s sudden perfect posture didn’t go unnoticed by either of the other teens. “Sorry, I have some family things tonight. You know how Thursdays are…”

“Right!” Alya punctuated the word with a snap. “Thursdays are family nights. Funny, Adrien said the same thing.”

Nino got an elbow to his side for snickering at Marinette’s blush, but it couldn’t be helped. They bade goodbye and went their separate ways.

The chilly December air stung her heated cheeks, eliciting a breath of thanks that she lived close to the school. In truth, Marinette’s family didn’t have family nights. Thursdays were allotted for Chat Noir’s visits.

He came every Thursday, without fail, at 9pm sharp. Why? No one had any clue. Her parents always cooked for four those nights to be sure he had food (They learned early on he didn’t get much to eat. This concerned Marinette deeply, not only as his partner but also as his soulmate). She supposed the saying was true, ‘feed a cat once and they will return’. He hadn’t stopped visiting ever since she offered him a cookie one otherwise-normal Thursday night about 4 months ago.

Tonight was no different. He knocked on her balcony window at 9 o’clock on the dot, he came down and ate his plate of food, and Marinette beat him at video games with her parents.

It was only when they had gone back up to her attic room that the night turned south.

Chat was hovering over her shoulder as she sketched a dress, excitedly giving her suggestions. Sometimes they were good, other times… not (memories of the awful purple and orange clown jumper threatened to surface).

Marinette had started to hum whilst she drew. Chat was playing with her hair and whispering encouragement, and all was well.

“Whatcha humming?” He murmured, barely audible above the sound of pencil on paper.

“Hm?” His hands had frozen in her hair, the lack of movement causing a lull in her train of thought. She blinked hard as if to will her thoughts back. “Oh, just a little tune. Should I put a flower or a bow here?”

“A bow, for sure.”

As she sketched the bow on the dress’ bodice, she hummed a little louder for Chat to hear.

And he hummed the last few notes with her.

Before she could comprehend how he knew the tune, she could hear a piano in her head, playing a sweet little harmony with jazzy drums. The familiar sound of ethereal bells played the melody she knew too well. It felt as if she were surrounded by a thousand magical whistles, carrying her up and away to the clouds. And based on the look in Chat’s eyes as he spun her chair to look at her, he was hearing it too.

Damn it.

She would have gotten emotional if she wasn’t filled with terror. Finding your soulmate was supposed to be an important event in one’s life. For Marinette, now it was another secret under her hat.

He was whispering her name, eyes sparkling and the most endearing smile on his face and why is he looking at me like that? say something, anything! to get him to stop!

“Wow it’s late, time flies, you know?” She cringed at her abnormally high voice, playing off the flinch as a yawn. “I should go to bed, haha.”

Her cheeks twitched with the effort to keep the fake smile as he just stood there, staring at her, an unreadable expression on his face.

And then she was in his arms as he carried her up to bed, eyes large and kind. He  set her down gently before giving a two-finger salute and jumping through her balcony window. She felt the mattress bounce slightly from his weight. Too late, she registered his parting words to her, goodnight princess.

With a pillow secured to her face, she screamed.

“Marinette! Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Tikki. Just overwhelmed.” She threw the pillow down onto her knees.

“You don’t look fine.”

Neither did Tikki, if Marinette was being honest. She looked just as worried as she felt.

“I just… the ladybug and black cat miraculous are always soulmates, so I wanted Chat’s soulmate to be Ladybug, not Marinette. That makes sense, right?”

“Yes! And it was a great idea, but the universe has its own plans, and you can’t override them.”

“I know! It’s just that— I was planning— I didn’t want Marinette to be associated with Chat Noir. It’s too risky! What if people connect the dots? What if— oh no, Tikki! What if Plagg told Chat Noir about the soulmates? What if Chat Noir knows I’m Ladybug?!”

“Deep breaths, Marinette. It’s gonna be okay! I really don’t think Plagg would have told him, he’s really not fond of romance, he thinks it’s mushy.”

Marinette took a few moments to focus on her breathing, but Tikki’s unsure face didn’t calm her nerves any.

“I can go talk to Plagg if you want. And if Chat Noir really does know who you are, then we can work it all out! You make the rules now Marinette, you don’t have to choose a new partner unless you want to.”

The thought of her identity being known made her sick, but she tried to sleep anyway. A night of good rest would help her think more clearly, right?

She couldn’t help but let the song play out a few times more before she finally dozed off, only for it to echo in her sleep.

* * * *

If Marinette had been paying attention, she would have seen Adrien hovering nearby like the confused, enamoured puppy that he was. She would have noticed his lingering gaze, his soft smile. She would have noticed his internal debate over whether to say hello.

(Everyone else noticed; everyone except the object of his affections.)

Alas, she was too preoccupied with her increasing anxiety. She wasn’t sure when Tikki had left her purse, but she had checked ten minutes ago only to find she was missing. Her foot tapped at the floor at irregular intervals, matching the beat of the song in her heart (Jazz was the worst possible genre to pace her life, but then again, when was she ever regularly spaced?).

She played the whistling song in her head once more, too tired to fight her smile. She could have a much worse soulmate, that was for sure. Who wouldn’t want a sweet, considerate, objectively handsome if she really let herself think about it—

A nudge against her side let her know Tikki had phased into her purse. Almost too hastily, she excused herself to the washroom.

“So? What’s the verdict? I haven’t been able to focus all day!” She whispered, having been too anxious to wait for the door to close behind her.

“I’m so sorry, Marinette.”

Another wave of anxiety. Marinette took a shaky breath in. “What do you mean?”

Tikki’s little hands wrung each other dry as she spoke. “There was a miscommunication between Plagg and Chat Noir, and he knows you’re Ladybug now.”

Her charge slid to the floor by the sinks before her feet could give out completely. He knew? How could this have happened?

She fought the urge to cover her face and cringe. What now?

The door pushed in, Alya successfully interrupting her thoughts.

“Marinette! You okay?”

“Yeah!” Faster than a zip of her yo-yo, her hands flew to the hem of her pink jeans. “Just re-cuffing my jeans. What’s up?”

Alya gave Marinette a quirky sort-of look before shaking her head in amusement. “Miss Bustier wanted me to come get you. We’re starting the holiday party!”

“Let’s get going then!” Marinette locked arms with Alya as they walked out. If neither girl talked about the odd scene, perhaps they would both forget.

The party went well, the shiny menorah and shamash reflecting the small tree’s lights in dazzling patterns on the walls. The atmosphere was pleasant, the treats shared were delicious, and their White Elephant gift exchange went very well. The stuffed dinosaur she made ended up with Rose, and Marinette gratefully accepted a new oversized hat from Nino.

Adrien had caught her eyes a few times too many for her own comfort. It felt almost wrong to be thinking only of her partner while searching Adrien’s eyes for hidden meaning. She took his warm gaze and soft smile with a grain of salt, then turned her mind away to think of Chat Noir’s soft, affectionate gaze and his broad, warm smile that never failed to make her grin in return. For some reason, Adrien’s smile made Marinette want to listen to Chat’s song.

All too soon, the party came to a close. She bade her goodbyes, wished her friends a happy holiday break, and started to walk home in the early minutes of dusk. A fun day of sweet treats and party games left her heart warm and content. The soft tinkling of street lamps illuminating all around her brought a small spread of euphoria in her chest. Shadows danced in the corners of her eyes, drawing her gaze up to the rooftops, where her favorite pair of inhuman green eyes peered back at her. Chat leapt across the buildings in front of her, just enough to stop and look back for a moment as she walked.

Her stomach churned as they locked eyes. Feet glued to the pavement, she stared up at him, waiting for him to… well, she wasn't sure what she was waiting for. He was just looking at her, perched up four stories above her, head tilted.

Oh, she thought belatedly, he wants to talk.  

With a small burst of resolution, she gave him a smile before willing her feet to move towards her house. By now the sun had set and the sky was gradually turning dark, a deep ocean encouraging her escape. As much as she longed to fall into the stars and float away, she also found herself giddy with excitement.

Their shared symphony played in her head as she opened the door to her home and excused herself upstairs, the melody almost unbidden, but she knew in her heart she had been longing to allow herself to enjoy it again.

Although, feeling ready for the next chapter of life was different than turning the page itself. There was sure to be shaky hands and stuttered words, confusion and maybe a little more bittersweet than she’d like, but, little did she know, there was going to be acceptance, overpowering emotions, tears, and many long hugs (and perhaps a few kisses), but that was life.

Besides, with her soulmate and partner by her side, she could do anything.

* * * *

* * * *

Also! I may have gotten a little carried away and composed the leitmotif and the soulmate song as well~! You can listen to it here  :)

[bailspogue]

𝐓𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐋𝐀 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐄

( 𝑘𝑖𝑎𝑟𝑎 𝑐𝑎𝑟𝑟𝑒𝑟𝑎 𝑥 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟 )

𝑆𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦.  ─── Midsummer has always been something Kiara Carrera absolutely dreaded attending but when she finds some wonderful company in the bartender she might enjoy her evening just a little bit more.

𝑊𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠. ─── underage drinking and swearing

𝑟𝑒𝑞𝑢𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑑. ─── no

              Golden rays of sunlight had begun to wither away while the alluring coral glow of the sunset wallowed the garden in its warmth. Beautiful evenings like those had remained a common occurrence in the Outer Banks — However, no matter how beautiful those skies seemed Kiara couldn't bring herself to enjoy the evening those elegant people in their elegant gowns and costumes enclosing on her being the very reason for her distaste of the event. 

When she stood there it all felt so unreal a world entirely different than the one she had left behind even just for a little while — one she wished nothing more than to return to when her eyes wandered amongst them dancing across the fields fancy beverages within their grasps. 

              That was the very first moment her eyes had landed on you— stood behind one of the many marble counters a refined smile adorning your lovely features whenever you helped those attending the Midsummer event who had seemed to find themselves in desperate need of a drink. She might have belonged among them — carefully she made her way towards the bar those heels of hers ever so slightly digging into the soft earth worsening her disdain for the event in the first place. 

Entranced you had leant against the marble waiting with an amused smile for her to reach the bar you had been stationed at — you could only cherish a dream of being alike them. Nonetheless when Kiara Carrera she was all that entertained your thoughts. 

              She was breathtaking — even with a notorious scowl gracing her delicate features.

❛ What'd you like? ❜    That very same courteous smile had found its way back upon you lips after those words had once more fallen from her lips — only this time did the guest smile back just as softly. 

❛ Tequila, please. ❜    Kiara ordered politely — her arms rested nonchalantly upon the ivory border of the bar counter her thoughts wondering how all those people could care so very little for all that was around them — the beautiful beaches littered with their filth, all those others spending their nights in the darkness and scorching summer heat while they stood here all narcissistic smiles and egotistical minds. 

              ❛ Straight? ❜      

❛ You gonna drink it straight? ❜    She hadn't caught onto the meaning of your sudden words just yet although while you rephrased your question once more did the essence become clear to her — Kiara laughed flustered when those dark eyes of hers met your own. 

                              ❛ Oh no. ❜    Kiara answered hastily that very same glint of mischief hidden scarcely beneath the surface of those daring brown eyes— ❛ What you got? ❜

❛ Well, I would suggest a Tequila Sunrise or even a Habanero Martini if you're feeling bold. ❜    You suggested — you had rested your elbows up on the counter while you listed the many alcoholic beverages that came to your mind watching her sink deep within thought after you had gone silent awaiting her response. A gracious inclination came from Kiara before she had voiced her beverage of choice to you — smiling brightly while she did so. 

             ❛ Tequila Sunrise is fine. ❜    

❛ Easy there Missy. ❜    You answered a laugh hidden within your joyous tone of voice while she too extended her hand to take the glass from your hand — feeling the gently touch of her beautifully decorated with deftest of nail polish and charming golden rings accessorizing her fingers bringing a sense of refreshing cold against the bareness of your own skin. 

             Kiara had wasted no time — the warmth of the alcohol brought her a familiar sense of sanctuary almost as if to secure her grasp upon the person she truly was who didn't need all this to find her own happiness. The beverage had vanished within her grasp leaving only an empty glass with the remains of the melting cubes of ice and the crimson cherry you had placed on top of it all — watching you with curious eyes while you tended to another guest making the very same drink she had mere moments ago all the very same beautifully crafted layers of crimson grenadine and what she could only assume was tequila-infused fruit juice.

❛ Don't wanna be the talk of the town now. ❜    You teased while the corners of your mouth curled slowly into the beginnings of a mischievous smirk before your longing glance was met with hers once more— ❛ Do ya? ❜ 

❛ I couldn't care less. ❜    Kiara swigged from her glass once more — the faintest marks of mauve lipstick staining its sugar-coated brim.   ❛ Thought I made that very obvious. ❜    She added — a devious smile remained unwaveringly etched upon her smooth lips how she wished she could have talked to you more — sooner. 

             You had been such a sight for sore eyes — absolutely breathtaking in its purest form. Your laugh had become the only thing she wished to hear that evening it brought her back to that world of hers she so yearned to return to once more leaving all the fancy gowns and expensive taste within her past, however — you belonged to that world too. 

❛ Miss Carrera? An alcoholic? ❜    Your taunting words caused that gorgeous smile to resurface once more — thoughts of leaving vanishing at the mere sounds of your joyous laughter becoming more and more delightful to her. Kiara had placed her elbows upon the marble bar counter — her chin gently resting within the palms of her delicate hands while you were all her adoring eyes had attention for. 

             ❛ That simply cannot be. ❜    Kiara feigned an extravagant posh accent while you could only laugh along with her words — head gently moving to the soft beats of the music that had been playing throughout the night while your hands tapped restlessly against the smooth surface of the bar.

❛ Such a shame. ❜    You added tending to another guest — however, your eyes would always remain among Kiara's elegant form and the adoring glance she had watched you with much to the dismay of those others who had indeed found themselves in desperate need of an alcoholic beverage once more that evening. 

             ❛ She was a real catch. ❜    Your words had not gone lost on Kiara — a soft scoff left those glossed lips of hers twisting ever so devilishly towards one of her very own infamous scowls. You watched her with curious eyes awaiting her response a sudden nervousness caught you off guard — it had never been anything like you to depend on another's feelings of you so profoundly but you wanted her to laugh along with you — for her to like you.   

❛ Was she now?  ❜    Kiara questioned — a smile returning to her soft features once more supplemented with your very own a sense of relief hidden beneath your delighted grin. 

            ❛ Princess with a secret drinking problem? ❜    You questioned lowering your voice ever so slightly before you once again brought your full attention to her — leaning against the marble bar counter to lessen the distance between the two of you. You had enjoyed her company throughout the evening  even more than you would have cared to admit — she had you mesmerized.

❛ Definitely my type of girl. ❜    A wink from you brought that very same sense of fluster back to Kiara once more — if only she would have known the wonderful evening that had been awaiting her then.

            ❛ I would have even asked for a dance. ❜    You admitted in all honesty when you leant down to meet her questioning glance — eyes never once leaving her own even as silence befalls the both of you for the very first time of that smouldering summer evening. 

❛ Tragically. ❜    Your hands rested gently against the marble surface while your eyes could only ever look at her smiling lovingly— ❛ I am stuck here all night. ❜ 

           ❛ So am I. ❜    Kiara answered spontaneously — however an evening she had dreaded attending had never seemed so wonderful before in her life if only she could have been with you for the remainder of the night but her Midsummer evening was eventually drawing towards an end — saying goodbye would be so bittersweet.

❛ Sucks to be rich. ❜    You brought her to reality once more her deep eyes wandering the many delicate features of your beautiful face — wishing to memorise every detail of it for when the day came that she would meet you again, until she would dream of you once more that very same night — that she might never forget you.

          ❛ You owe me a dance though. ❜ 

[flyaway-33]

Too Late

Roger x OC: this can be read as being you, one of his girlfriends, literally whoever you want to interpret it as.

Prompt: “Now you tell me you’re leaving, and I just can’t believe it’s true. Oh, you know that I can love you, though I know I can’t be true.” for @crowley-stole-my-ineffable-heart‘s 4k challenge! Congrats on 4k!

Warnings: angst; cheating; swearing; mentions of drugs, alcohol, and sex.

1k words.

Roger’s eyes fluttered open to the feeling of someone stirring in the bed beside him. A small smile of contentment played at his lips as he stretched his sore muscles, his back and biceps screaming from the overuse they suffered each night on stage in order to play his unique drum sound flawlessly. Last night had been another epic show with an even more epic afterparty, and he played the whole night through his mind as he let his eyes grow heavy once more, forgetting what had even woken him in the first place.

Ah yes, last night had been so much fun. He’d hit every beat and every note in every song. A perfect performance for him, and the party had been a whirlwind of joyous toasts to the band’s success, plenty of games, music, dancing, sex, drugs, everything that a great celebration needed had been provided. 

Wait. 

Sex. 

That wasn’t supposed to be part of it anymore.

He shot straight up in bed as his eyes snapped open wide once more and he rounded on the person beside him. The girl who was not his. She was not the girl he’d been in love with for the past two years, yet she smiled sleepily up at him and purred for him to lay back down, something about making the morning last a little longer.

“N-n-no!” he cried, more dramatic than he’d intended. “I mean, I need to leave, I’m sorry—”

“Fuck you.” She spat, sitting up and pulling her dress back on in one fluid motion. She gathered her shoes from the floor and stalked to the door of the crappy motel room she’d brought him to when he’d remembered they couldn’t go back to his, as he shared a room with John. They must’ve come here last minute, checking in in the wee hours of the morning after leaving the party, but he couldn’t for the life of him remember more than flirting with her at the bar. Just harmless flirting. How could he have let himself do this again?

“It’s not you, its just I have to get back—”

“I don’t need to hear it.” she hissed. “I knew I was just going to be the nice piece of ass of the night, but you could’ve been nicer about it.” She turned on her heel and she was gone, and he never even knew her name. She was right, she was just a meaningless body he’d used for fun, and he couldn’t even remember it. 

His stomach rolled at the thought of how badly he’d just fucked up again and he wanted to scream. Jumping to his feet he paced the small, dingy room, tugging at his tangled and matted hair in distress, desperately trying to formulate a plan of how to tell her. 

He had to tell her. The girl he was in love with. The girl who was waiting for him in their shared flat back in London. 

This wasn’t a new occurrence, and he knew it would be best to rip off the bandaid and tell her before she found out some other way, because she always, always found out. He stalled a bit more to pull his clothes on, his stomach rolling once more at the sickly sweet smell of the nameless girl’s perfume lingering on his shirt, overpowering the smell of the party. He felt filthy. The phone sat dauntingly on the small, lopsided bedside table, and he slowly sank back onto the bed, cringing at the thought of what had happened there last night. 

He hated himself.

Three rings and there was her beautiful, musical voice, greeting whoever had called.

“Love.” he stated, his own voice thick and gravelly with the tears that were threatening to spill. The guilt threatening to consume him.

“You did it again.” she sighed. How did she know him so well that with one word she knew what he was going to tell her? The worst part was that she didn’t sound surprised or angry, just disappointed. 

“I’m sorry,” he croaked, his voice going hoarse as tears began to flow freely down his flushed cheeks. “God, I am so sorry. What’s wrong with me?” He genuinely wanted to know the answer to that question. Every time he was riding on the high of drugs or alcohol, or even just the high of rockstar life itself it was like a switch was flipped in his brain and suddenly a little flirting was okay. A little touching, maybe some kissing. But then that always led to more, he just couldn’t help himself. Each time he woke up realizing he’d done it again he hated himself for it, and he couldn’t for the life of him understand why he’d done it again. 

“There’s nothing wrong with you, Roger. You’re just weak.”

“But I love you,” he sobbed into the phone, his knuckles white from gripping the headset so hard, the cord wrapped so tightly around the fingers of the other hand that they were going numb. 

“I can’t do this anymore, Rog.”

“No!”

“I can’t. I’m leaving you, Rog. We’re done.”

“But—”

“No. I’ll pack my stuff, and I’ll be gone by the time you get back, okay? I’m leaving. You can’t stop me. You’ve hurt me one too many times.”

Roger took a deep, steadying breath. “Now you tell me you’re leaving, and I just can’t believe it’s true.” He could feel his heart shattering into a million pieces, knowing he’d finally done it: he’d driven her away. He couldn’t believe it. So many time’s she’d forgiven him, but he was out of chances. But he was still hopelessly in love. “Oh, you know that I can love you, though I know I can’t be true.” He hung his head, letting the tears fall. “I’m sorry. I guess I’m just broken. I really do love you. So much. The others don’t mean anything, you know that.”

“I know, Roger, I know,” she sighed, her voice softening. “And I love you, I’m in love with you, but I can’t do this anymore. It just doesn’t work like that.”

“I can change—”

“Too late.” She cut him off, venom returning to her tone. “All too late. Goodbye, Rog.” 

The soft click of her hanging up on him seemed to reverberate through his skull with terrifying finality. He held the headset to his ear for several moments longer wishing that none of this had ever happened, then with a violently shaking hand, he placed it back on the receiver. All alone in an unfamiliar city with no clue where he was in relation to the rest of his band and crew, he curled up on the bed, hugging himself, and he cried himself to sleep, knowing he couldn’t fix this. 

All too late. 

[nix-needs-coffee]

Dreams of You

Anna of Cleves relives one of the worst moments of her life every night.

AO3 Link

Anna jolted straight up. Her equilibrium completely thrown off as she teetered at the edge of her bed, it took her a few seconds to gain her bearings in a position far from the one she had fallen asleep in. She took ragged gasps of air in and hissed out her exhalations to calm her heart hammering against her ribcage. When each breath became less of a battle and the pounding in her chest eased, she peeled her sweat-soaked shirt from her body and grabbed the spare she placed on her nightstand before she went to sleep -- knowing this, now, was a common occurrence.  

There was no point trying to get back to sleep.

She made her way carefully down the stairs, stepping over the floor boards that would betray her to the light sleepers of the house. As she passed the clock on the microwave, she flinched at the illuminated numbers displaying the time to be 2:19AM. Knowing the remainder of the night was going to be drawn-out, she settled herself in the unforgiving, hard plastic chair in the back garden, and let the soft sounds of the night lull her back into a sense of normalcy, or as close to it as she could get.

Hours later, with the muted glow of dawn just beginning to break over the horizon, dew drops collecting on the grass and leaves, and a chill settling in her bones, Anna hadn’t stirred. She sat, consumed by her thoughts, unmoving and hardly recognizing her surroundings.

“You’re out here again?” Anna once again found herself bolting upright with her heart battered against her ribs, her stomach plummeted to the ground at the voice behind her. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to frighten you,” Katherine apologized softly as she curled herself into the chair opposite Anna. “Did you fall asleep out here again?”

“S’alright.Yeah. Must have,” Anna lied, struggling to regain control of her lungs. She didn’t want to admit how elusive sleep had been for her, especially lately.

Katherine eyed her carefully, studying her face and her hands that fidgeted, closing and releasing, closing and releasing, the arms of the chair. “Everything okay?”

Anna forced a smile and gave her a curt nod.

“You don’t need to lie to me, Anna. We’ve known each other too long for that.”

This time, Anna’s slight smile was genuine. She should have known better than to underestimate the girl in front of her.

“Do you remember when we first met?” Anna asked her in a whisper.

Katherine snorted and gave a joyous little giggle. “You mean when I tripped over the train of your dress and fell flat on my face?”

“All your training on how to be a proper lady and your gangly limbs gave you away the instant you walked in the room.” Anna couldn’t help but laugh with Katherine. “Your little panicked face when you looked up at me. I loved you immediately,” she sobered.

Katherine gave her a shy smile, shifted in her seat, and nudged Anna’s leg with her slippered foot. “You were exactly the friend I needed. Still are.” She bit her lip before folding back in on herself and wrapping her arms tightly around her knees. “So why won’t you tell me what’s wrong? I want to help you.”

Silence stretched between them, ushering in the rising sun. Anna was certain that Katherine would tire of waiting or let sleep take her again, but she sat patiently holding her gaze. The heavy weight of her burden had become too much for her to carry alone. After so many years, of course Katherine would be the one to reach out and try to ease the pain she felt. Ironic, really, if she considered it.

“Because I should have been the one to help you,” Anna’s words broke through the quiet, filled with shame and regret, and strangled with the grief she still felt.

“Help me?” Katherine, evidently not expecting to hear that, stared at her mystified.

“Before. With him. I should have done more,” Anna buried her face in her hands to hide the torrent of tears streaming down her face. “If I had done something, anything, he might not have hurt you. What if it was my fault?”

“Anna, my fate was not your doing.”

“No, but I should have done more to stop it. You were my friend, and I left you to die,” she choked back a sob as she crumpled in on herself.

Katherine knelt in front of her, pressing her cheek onto the top of Anna’s head and rubbing circles on her back. “You did exactly what I needed you to do,” she whispered. “You kept yourself out of harm’s way. You kept yourself safe. I didn’t have many true friends at the end, but I knew you were with me.” Katherine’s own tears had begun to fall, remembering how alone she had been in those last few days. Even if she hadn’t realized at the time that Anna was still out there, thinking of her, caring for her, knowing with certainty now was an enormous comfort.

“I should have at least been there on the day. So you would know. So you wouldn’t be alone.”

“No. I’m glad you weren’t there. I wouldn’t want you to see me like that,” Katherine shuddered at the thought of her friend witnessing the last moments of her life. She would never have found comfort in that.

“I still dream about it, you know. I always dream of you, but every dream is different. Sometimes you’re screaming. Sometimes you die without a sound,” Anna admitted between sobs. Her arms, which had been squeezing around her own middle, wound their way around Katherine’s shoulders, grasping on to her tightly, as if she could shield the girl from the horrors of her past with her own body.

“That’s why you don’t sleep? You’re having nightmares,” the immensity of the trauma hit Katherine with sudden clarity. She felt Anna’s nodded response against her. “How long?”

“I thought they had gone away for a while when we got here,” she clung to Katherine tighter. “Spending all this time with you now…  Not just remembering you as you were, but seeing your smile, hearing your laugh, talking with you, actually being present with you,” Anna’s hands fisted in Katherine’s night shirt, pulling her impossibly closer. “It isn’t just a memory anymore. You’re here. We could have had so much more time for it then. And what if it all gets taken away again.”

Katherine swallowed her own terror at the thought that everything could be taken from her just as it had been all those years ago, choosing instead to reciprocate the tight hug she was locked in. “Yeah. I’m here now. Head firmly attached,” she tried to joke, but only succeeded in making herself wince with the thought.

“You must have been so scared.”

“It was over too quickly to be much of anything. It was so long ago.” Katherine held the truth dancing on the tip of her tongue, ignoring the flashes of the block in front of her as she practiced laying her head upon it. Now was not the time for those memories. “I’m going to enjoy the time I’ve been given, and be thankful that you’re here with me too.”

Anna knew Katherine was holding back, but didn’t press further. Instead she let Katherine pull back from her embrace and stand up.

“Why don’t we head inside,” she said while offering Anna a hand to help her up. “There’s still a few more hours before anyone else gets up.”

“I don’t want to sleep,” she protested, but still taking the proffered hand.

“Then maybe you can just sit with me while I do?” Katherine’s grasp on Anna’s hand held firm. Her question sounding more like a plea than a suggestion. “You can wake me up when my own nightmares start,” Katherine confessed quietly. She looked at Anna hesitantly, afraid that her carefully constructed facade she made up to conceal her own trauma from while consoling Anna would fall to pieces.

Anna nodded, squeezing Katherine’s hand in return before following her back inside the house.

She knew she would always be torn about not being there when Katherine had needed her most, for not doing more to put a stop to it, but now, at least, she could be there for her when sleep brought her back to that time. This time she could do and say all of the things she wished she had done for so long.

And maybe, with time, she would relive those moments differently too.

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

COTW 23 - update

Holding Viren, Levi was pacing back and forth in the family waiting area. Eren had already been in surgery for 8 hours, and he was still yet to hear anything about his husband's health. Doctor Reed had suggested he wait back at the hotel, and that she would call when the procedure was over, but Levi couldn't bare to bring himself to leave. He didn't want to be unable to get to Eren in time... Hushing Viren as he started wake, Levi wished someone would pick him up and carry him around. He was dead on his feet, but if he sat, he'd never get back up. Eren hadn't had a great flight down, due to a panic attack that had resulted in him sedated. When he'd woken at Mitras Royal, his husband had been severely disoriented and groggy. He'd begged Levi to take him home, and grown agitated over the lack of rings on his finger, taking hours to come back to reality as the drugs left his system. Having spent the whole night before Eren's flight at the hospital with his omega, then going straight to spending a flight being serenaded with Viren's stunning "operatic" vocals, and topping the trifecta with a terrified Eren, Levi was tired, smelly, exhausted to the point of nausea and nursing a headache greater than Viren's ability to scream. He knew Viren couldn't help the pain in his ears that came from flying, but out of everyone on the plane, only one little old beta woman had been happy to help. The rest of the passengers getting mad at the three year old for something he couldn't help or understand. By the twelve hour mark, Levi was wondering if they'd forgotten he existed. He'd given up pacing, thanks to his knees threatening to give out, and thanks to having to take Viren to the bathroom, and for food. His paranoia left him wondering if they'd come to find him, then found that he wasn't there and assumed he'd left. His arse was numb, his back hurt like a bitch and his eyes burned from a lack of sleep, but there was no way he was going home. 16 hours after kissing Eren goodbye as he wheeled away, Doctor Reed finally came to find him. The woman looked as bad as he felt "Levi" Rising to his feet, she gestured for him to sit. Levi's heart was hammering as he did "How... how is he?" "It was a hard and difficult surgery. Separating the tumour wasn't easy..." Oh god... oh... fuck... this was it... Eren had... he was... Levi's eyes filled with tears, Doctor Reed placing her hand on his shoulder "... and we were unable to remove the entirety of the tumour, however, we did remove over 80 percent of the tissue. Now. There were some complications, extending procedure time. The pup went into distress which is why we didn't remove the tumour in its entirety, the second twin then slipping into distress from the extended surgery..." Reed paused, Levi was getting over these pauses real fucking fast "Eren?" "Eren crashed on the table, suffering a major bleed as we were closing. We closed the bleed, and got his heart back into normal sinus rhythm, but we've placed him in a medically induced coma to relieve the pressure on his body. The next 48 hours are going to be critical. We'll be monitoring both pups very closely, as well as Eren for clots, preterm-labour, or secondary bleeds. We won't know if there are any lasting effect from the bleed, until he wakes" Levi felt as if he'd been dumped into an ice bath. His stomach clenching so hard that vomited into his mouth "Now. I know you're anxious to see him, but we have him a sterile room to lower risk of infection, and we will be keeping him under until we are absolutely sure he is strong enough to be brought back out. You need to go home and rest" Rest... how could he rest? "I know everything I said is scary, but it was nothing outside the realms of possibilities we knew may occur during this procedure. I'm also not sugar coating it, because I know you'd be insulted if I did. So the best thing you can do for Eren, is to go back to your hotel and rest" "I want to see him" "That's not currently possible" "I... I don't care if I can't talk to him, I need to see him... he's... my husband" Reed took a long breath in through her nose "Please. I need to see he's out of surgery" "You won't be able to communicate with him, and the amount of equipment surrounding him may be alarming" "I know. I'm prepared for that. But I still need to see him. We've come all this way. He's in a city and hospital he doesn't know. Having a surgery he was scared shitless over, and now you tell me he died on table. I need to... see him" Reed softened "I can give you a few minutes, but you have to promise me you'll rest" Levi nodded quickly "Alright, come with me" Forced to stand on the outside of the room, Eren was locked away from him. His omega's room was directly across from nurses station, which was generally reserved for the riskier of patients. Normally doctor's liked their patiences to come out of anesthetiser naturally, but there Eren was. Surrounded by monitors, his stomach bare and other than the small sensor pads placed across his swell to monitor the vitals of their pups. Levi found no relief at the sight of Eren like that. He looked too thin, and far too pale "Levi?" Blinking, he realised Reed had placed her hand on his shoulder again "My team is the best on the whole island. He is in very good hands here" "He looks like a doll" "He may be pale, but he did just go through a 13 hour procedure. Even unconscious, surgery is a heavy burden on the body, and there is a risk of infection. Being in a coma is the best thing for him right now" So they had left him waiting... They'd left him to stew in his own misery "He'll wake up again, won't he?" "We have no reason to doubt he won't once the drugs are weaned from his system. He will be weak, but if all goes well, he'll be home by the 28th" Levi nodded, swapping Viren to his opposite hip. He and Eren had married on the 13th, it was now the 17th or was maybe even the 18th... Eren was due to remain in Mitras until the 21st, then to be transferred back to Shinganshima. He didn't see Eren being home by the 28th, nor did he see him testifying on the 6th of March like Floch had organised... Eren wanted to take the stand as it would be the states lawyers questioning him this time, and giving him a chance to explain his life in his own words. Floch was sitting on the pushing incident, which left Levi furious, yet the man had restated that he had a plan "Now. The best thing for you is sleep" Levi nodded, he didn't want to take his eyes off Eren. The three rings and the two wolves he wore around neck felt incredibly heavy, almost like a hangman's noose. If anything else were to happen... he'd lose his head "Thank you... and thank you for... for saving them..." "You're welcome. I never promised this would be easy, but we all came through the other side in one piece. Are you alright to get home from here?" "Yeah... yeah, I've got it covered" "Then no doubt I'll see you soon" "Thank you..." Back at the hotel, Levi crashed hard. Getting Viren, and himself, showered and changed used up the last of his energy reserves. Turning the TV on and setting it to low for the background noise, he pulled his son into bed with him. Viren wasn't a happy camper, not after a whole day at hospital with being able to run and play, but Levi wasn't about to let him go loose in a hotel room, even if the door was weighted and chained. He needed the soft warmth of his son against him. He needed to know he was safe, no matter how many whines and grabby fingers to the face he took in the process. Sleeping came easy, the hard part was when Viren woke him early demanding food. The boy had somehow rid himself of his nappy, and pants, and all managed to make one hell of a mess of their hotel room. Ordering room service, Levi was ready for another however many hours of sleep he'd gotten. Chasing Viren down and getting him back into a pair of pants, his son promptly pulled them back down, before attempting another break for it. It wasn't fair how much energy toddlers had... or maybe he was just getting old. Breakfast was another trying experience. The syrup from their pancakes ended up across the sheets, with strawberries smeared into the sheets for extra flavour. His cup of tea fell victim too, its appeal lost once half chewed, toddler drooled on, pancake ended up floating in it. If Eren had been there, he would have had everything under control, and the room service man wouldn't have had to deal with a toddler with his willy in his hand yelling about making it bigger, when the poor guy was just trying to do his job. Levi gave a him a decent tip, the man taking it all in good humour as Levi tried to assure him that this wasn't an every occurrence and that Viren was his son, and that he wasn't up to anything shady. When he thought about it after the fact, his awkwardness was probably what he was laughing about. Once again he found himself thinking Eren would have handled everything so much better. With too much energy for his own good, Levi googled parks on his phone. It was barely 8am, so he wouldn't be able to visit his omega for another two hours. Two more hours he would have preferred to be have used to sleep, but Viren was just too wired, and their bed was a mess. Fighting to get his son dressed, then himself, he went to scold his son for jumping on their bed, when the boy jumped on him with a joyous cry "Daddy! Cuddle Attack!" "Whoa!" Spinning round with Viren in his arms, his bad mood lifted. He wouldn't be out of his flunk until Eren was back home, but this was nice. His son didn't mean to tax his nerves or neurons, and his pure happiness was like a salve to the throbbing wound that was his worry for Eren "What do you say, you and I go to the park, then we'll find something nice to bring mummy" "Mummy!" "Do you miss mummy?" Viren nodded, his wide grey eyes questioning Levi silently "Mummy had to have a special procedure, to make sure he and your little siblings are alright. But he loves you, very much and he's going to be ok" "Can mummy come to the park?" "Not today, baby. But he's going to want hear all about all the fun things you've been doing" "Daddy, why does mum always have to be sick?" "Mummy doesn't want to be sick, but this special procedure is to make him better..." "I don't like it" "I know. How about we get a special gift you can give mummy? And when he's all better, you can tell him how much you love him" "I do" Kissing Viren forehead, he nodded "That's my boy... let's head out to the park" His mind really wasn't on playing, but without other children there, his son had latched onto him. He stubbornly demanded Levi watched as he climbed up the half dozen ladder rungs, so he could slide down a slide as long as Levi's leg. Whoever had designed the park, had definitely not thought about kids at all. The playground was only a slide and a couple of swings, half hidden in the ridiculously perfect grounds. It suited Mitras though, it's rich and money burning image, along with its closed society where kids were probably just thought as pretty decorations. Viren didn't really enough space to explore or enough to work off any extra energy... so he wasn't surprised when Viren came running to him and begged to go on the swings. This was only their second day in the city... he had no idea how he was going to keep Viren entertained for the rest of them. * Eren kept him waiting, his husband had been showing signs of waking all day, but it was 9 hours after he first started to stir that Eren's eyes finally opened. As feared there'd been a few complications. The pups vitals had dipped so low they thought they may have to deliver them ahead of time, before gradually improving, but not before Levi just about collapsed on the spot. Then an infection had started to form along the edge of surgery site. A hair follicle irritated by a stitch, but it was enough to scare the shit out of him again. Kept under for a third day, Eren's system was flooded with antibiotics, and the fourth day after his operation, he was finally weaned off the barbiturates. Hitting the call button, Levi rose and grabbed Eren's hand, as Eren's heart rate began to rise with panic "Shhh. It's the breathing tube, don't fight it... you're ok" Blinking at him, Eren's whole face softened. Though his gaze was unfocused, his husband knew he was there, his struggling lessening "You kept me waiting beautiful.... shhh, don't fight the tube. You're ok... you're ok, bright eyes" Eren weakly squeezed his hand. It'd been a long four days. Especially when he'd been told Eren would be under for another day. Moved away so the tube could be removed, Eren's first move was to reach for Viren. The boy crying as he watched the tube come out, and Eren began to cough. Sitting Viren on the edge of Eren's bed, his husband smiled sleepily "H-hey..." "Rest your voice. Both know how those tubes feel" "Horrible" Levi snorted softly, moving to drag the visitors chair closer to Eren's bed before sitting. Trust Eren to try jumping right into talking again. Reaching up, he brushed Eren's hair back from his face, rubbing his forehead with his thumb as he felt himself tear up "You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen" Eren coughed as he shook his head, wincing slightly as he dropped his head back against the pillow. Levi's heart jumped into his throat "Eren?" "Throat" "Then rest. Let me try read your lips" Eren didn't seem convinced, but his husband was fast falling back to sleep "Pups" "Both... both are fine... I'm fine. Viren's fine and you're going to be just fine too" Eren didn't need to know anything other than that "Good... mmm, baby..." Kissing Eren's cheek, Viren blew a raspberry. Lifting the toddler back into his lap, he wasn't happy to be parted with his mum "Mummy's still recovering, here. Hold mummy's hand. He's really missed you" "Missed him too" Levi was pretty certain that wasn't the case given Eren hadn't been conscious to miss him, but the way Viren carefully held Eren's hand with both his smaller ones were adorable. Just as carefully, he laid his left cheek down on the back of it "We did a little shopping for you... He wanted to buy you half the soft toys in the store" And a million other things he grabbed off the shelves, loudly proclaiming "for mummy" each time Levi took it from his hands to return it the shelf "He's a good kid" "Yeah. A complete and total handful, but he's so much like you" "N'mm like you" Eren's eyes started to slide closed. The eyes that had haunted his dreams and teased him over how long it'd been since he'd seen them "Get some more sleep, bright eyes" "It's been a while since y' call'd me that" "I've missed seeing your eyes... I've missed all of you" "Mmm... sorry... still sleepy" "I can see that. We're not going anywhere" "Love you guys" "We love you too" Sleeping for the next few hours, the second time Eren woke, Levi took Viren out the room while the checked Eren over. His husband didn't remember their earlier conversation, but it wasn't like he'd expected him to. Given it'd gotten so late, they probably wouldn't be able to stay for that much longer. Viren was bored and sleepy. Upset mummy couldn't get up and play. Making it a mission to find his son a cookie, he managed to keep the toddler entertained for a solid half an hour, before Viren got his cookie and they returned to Eren's room. Sitting up, Eren smiled at them tiredly "Look who's awake" "Look who's filling our son with sugar" "Mummy!" Viren made a run for Eren, Levi catching him as he tripped over his own feet and nearly lost his hard earned cookie. Carrying him over to Eren, he sat down with their son in his lap "Hey, baby. That's a pretty big cookie you've got there" "I needed bribery. How do you feel?" "I'm ok... sleepy... but I'm ok" "Good. Did they say anything?" "Mmm... yeah... pups are ok... that's the main thing" "What else did they say?" "A whole heap of words..." Levi forced a laugh. What he really wanted to know was if they talked about how the surgery went, but he didn't want to upset his omega by asking "Said we'd talk about it tomorrow with... with Reed" Yawning, Eren reached out to Viren to rest his hand on his head "My baby been good for daddy?" "It's been interesting" "He's been bored" "You could say that. I never realised how much time he spent sticking his hand down his pants" Eren laughed, before groaning with pain. His hand going from Viren's head to his stomach "Eren?" "Laughing isn't so great... I feel like I'm going to burst" "No laughing. Ok..." "Mmm... skins itchy too" "You had the start of an infection, but they've got it under control" "I think they said something about that too... and bleeding... I really can't remember" "Don't try and force it..." "'m not... how about you? You look sleepy" That was so very Eren "I'm ok. You have me a bit of scare though. I'm sure my hair's more grey than black these days" "Sorry... I like your hair black" "It's fine" "Tell me what you've been up to. Have you been having fun with daddy?" Viren hid behind his cookie, Eren giving another laugh and a groan "I should know better than to ask" "We went to the park, and we've been shopping. They have a kids channel at the hotel..." "TV babysitting for the win..." "Yeah. I've been lost without you around" "I'm sure that's not true" "I let him out in public without shoes on yesterday. Completely forgot them" "I've done that before too. You're not alone" "That's nice to know... I've missed... I've missed you so much" Tearing up, Eren gave him a loving smile "Hey. I'm ok" "I was scared you wouldn't wake" "Like I'd leave my two best men alone... hey, come here" Moving Viren up to Eren's bed, Levi wrapped his arms around both his loves. Nuzzling and kissing Eren's temple, he didn't care that Eren's hair smelt or that his mate hadn't showered in days. All he cared about was holding him again. The floodgates breaking open completely "You died... you left me and you died... and I wasn't there" "Shhhh... it's ok, alpha. It's ok" "I was so fucking useless. I kept wondering if it was ok to be taking Viren to play or to go shopping. I kept thinking about you" "I know you would have. I know. But it's over now, right?" "Y-yeah..." Eren picked up on the stuttered in his word "They couldn't remove all the tumour, but they got most of it... and then you nearly... you were gone" "Shhh, Levi. Levi, it's ok. I'm ok... my poor alpha. You've been so worried, while I slept. Have you called anyone? Let them know how things are?" "N-no..." "Leeeee. You were supposed to" "I texted Mike when you came out of surgery. But... I didn't want to hear it" "You said you'd call them. I didn't want you being alone" "I couldn't. Not until you were awake. I love you... I love you so much" "I love you, Lee. And I love my baby boy... can you lift Viren? He's on my stomach" "Oh! Shit... hold on..." Viren clutched to his cookie and at Eren's hospital gown as Levi pulled him back into his hold as he sat back in the visitors chair "Better?" "Not really... I'd rather the cuddles" "When we get home, you're going to have so many cuddles that you won't know what to do" "I wouldn't mind them now. My omega's so confused over everything. It wants its alpha, and wants to kill whoever touched our pups" "I don't think Reed will appreciate that" "Nor do I. How's your alpha?" Anxious. Worried. Angry. Confused. Freaking the fuck out... "Better now you're awake" "Coming off suppressants doesn't help either" "You're supposed to be worrying about yourself, not me" "Of course I'm going to worry about my family. You guys are my everything" "And you're ours..." Knocking on the glass door, a young nurse poked her head in the room "I'm sorry, but visiting hours are coming to the end" Withdrawing before he could reply, Levi looked back to Eren. His omega having paled in the last few moments "Eren?" "'m ok" "Hey, if you don't want us to go, I can ask about staying" "No. No, you need to take Viren home. He needs a bath and it's way past his bedtime" Murmuring the words, Eren's tearing eyes betrayed him "Eren..." "It's ok. I know you guys can't stay... I'm just... feeling really clingy..." "Like I said, I can ask" Eren wiped his eyes, not stemming the running tears "No... you look tired too... and I'm not... not going anywhere" "I can't leave you like this" "I know I shouldn't be scared, but I don't know this place... it doesn't smell like home" "Shhh... it's ok. You're safe. Here, Viren hop up for a second" Lifting Viren off his lap, Levi pulled his jacket off. Not caring it wasn't hygienic as he moved to lay it under Eren's head and across his pillows "Better?" "I love your scent..." "Good. I'll..." "You should take Viren back to the hotel... He spends too much time in hospital" "I don't want to leave you" "I don't want you two sleeping here..." "What can I do? I hate seeing you crying" "Give me a kiss?" Levi was happy to oblige, the nasal cannula getting in the way as he did. Straightening it out, he smiled at his mate sadly. He hated how scared Eren was becoming "I'll be here first thing in the morning, and we'll stay the whole day. I'll bring my phone in, so you can use it if you want, or look at photos. I've taken heaps of photos because I know you love them" "I... I don't deserve you" "Oh, bright eyes. You deserve the world. And who knows, maybe I'll bring you your own huge cookie" "Reed said I can't eat solid right now" Levi frowned "When did she say that?" "Before the surgery... because of you know... giving birth out my arse" Oh... yeah... straining to take a shit might not be the best thing right now "Right. Then I'll just have to make you cookies when we get home" "I'll hold you to that... where's Viren? I want to give him a kiss" It fucking sucked to leave Eren behind. His omega looked heartbroken as he guided Viren out Eren's room. He should have insisted that Eren slept. If he'd been asleep when Levi and Viren left, then his mate wouldn't be so sad... * Eren was flown back on the 23rd of February rather than the 21st. Coughing too hard due to his irritated throat had caused a tear in his stitching, and another unexpected surgery. Even if it was a very minor bleed, he was proud that Eren caught the fact that something was wrong, and spoken up about it rather than trying to hide the bleeding. Coming back home to Shinganshima was relieving. Eren was heavily depressed over the remaining tumour mass, despite trying hard not to show it. His husband's vitals had been all over the place, and Reed wouldn't sign off on the transfer until they'd steadied and remained within suitable values for 24 hours. Viren had once again hated flying, crying from the moment the cabin pressurised, right up to the moment he was taken into Hanji's arms at the hospital. Being on home turf made it easier to keep his worry under control. Eren was back in an environment he knew, and they'd be able to have some together as they had babysitters available. Meeting him at the front of the hospital, Hanji was all smiles as cuddled with Viren "It's about time you got back" "Nice to see you, too. How's Eren?" "Popped in to see him before, but he was sleeping. The transfer went like clockwork, buuuut, you're both in the sh-shoe with me" "Oh? Why now?" Falling into step with Hanji was easy. It felt like he could breathe easier and the air all that much cleaner than it had been in Mitras "Getting married without telling anyone! I can't believe you stole my Honey away and eloped" "Who told you? Was it Eld or Gunther?" "What?! They knew?! How come they got to know?! I wanted to throw Eren a huge wedding... did you do it right!? Was he happy!?" "We got married at the courthouse before Eren's surgery... and if it wasn't them, then who?" "It was on his transfer papers. Under personal affects was listed none as they were in the possession of his husband" "I knew I hated paperwork" "Why didn't you tell meeeeee?! Do you know how long I've been mentally planning this wedding?! How many hours I've put into the seat charts and flowers?!" "Don't worry, we still want a big wedding... Eren was scared of dying without marrying me" If he said he was just as scared, Hanji would pull the piss out of him for the rest of his life "And here I was, ready to give you shit. I can't tease you for a reason like that" "Once the trial is over and the pups are born, then we'll talk wedding. That's the agreement" "I read his updated medical records..." "And?" Pressing the elevator button, Hanji made him wait until they'd stepped inside and she'd pushed the button to the floor Eren was on before continuing "And I read about what happened... how is?" "Not happy. He's trying to hide it, but he feels guilty for not being strong enough for the whole of the tumour to be removed. Which is complete shoe. His omega's also been all over the place. He's wanted cuddles, but we got in trouble for Viren sitting on his bed, and I got us in trouble for leaving my jacket over his pillow so he'd have my scent" "Well, he's home now. Mike said he'd take Viren tonight. He also said that Titan needs to go on a diet" "He's fine the way he is... and I might take him up on that. We haven't had a chance to talk about everything. Not with little ears in the room" "How did he enjoy his holiday?" Watching the doors open, this time Levi made Hanji wait as he stepped off. Viren was practically asleep in her hold "He didn't. He wanted Eren and didn't understand why he couldn't be there. Plus, being in a hotel room most of the time left him with energy to spare. The second day Eren was awake, he talked at him for two hours straight" "I'm sooooo glad Anna's growing out of that. She's made Eren a card, but I'm not allowed to give it to him. And she's been lost without Viren" "For being your daughter, she's not as much as a pain in the arse as you are" "I know. She reminds me so much of Moblit... I'd like to take credit, but Eren has been so good with her" "Eren's really good with kids, and omegas. It's a shame he never got to put those skills to use outside of babysitting and saving omegas being attacked" "He's still young. Give it a couple of years for the pups to grow" "I know he's still young. I'm just saying..." "You're saying your smitten by everything he does" "He is my husband" "I know that. Do I get to see the wedding ring?" "Once it's back on his finger with the other two" "You've bought him half a jewellery shop... the rings, the charm bracelet, the wolves..." "Eren bought the wolves..." He couldn't deny Hanji's point though. He'd bought Eren four rings over the span of their relationship, which would possibly be around $7000 worth of jewellery... or so. But when compared to the fact that some spent that on a single ring, it really didn't seem that bad. Besides, Eren was beautiful. He'd had such a hard life and deserved pretty things. And the charm bracelet was Eren's pride and joy. A "V" added for their son, and when the next two pups came, he'd buy charm letters for both of them "Ooooooh. That makes me more sense" "Yeah. He didn't want me to give his jewellery back until we were back home. Viren's been after the wolves" Eren was awake when they walked in, giving them a small wave, Hanji raised an eyebrow "Is that all I get?" "Sorry. Hey, Hanji. How've you been?" "I've been worried about my little Sweetheart. My married, Sweetheart" Eren looked from Hanji to him "I didn't tell her. It was on your paperwork" "Oh... yeah... um... we got married" "I know. I mean. I heard. Levi said I couldn't look at the wedding ring until it was back on your finger" "That might be a while... I think they're swollen" Swollen? Since when? Eren's fingers were on the slender side. Like those of a piano player "Noooo... I want to seeeee! I can't believe you guys didn't invite me" "It was a small ceremony" "With a nice wedding night. Can I have Viren?" Walking over to Eren, Hanji set Viren down beside him. Leaving Levi to walk around the bed and sink down to sit on the other side "How do you feel? Any pain? Or discomfort?" "Hanji, you know what it's like to be pregnant. Everything hurts" "This is true. I want to take a little look at your stitches while I'm here" Levi sighed, taking Eren's hand into his. His omega's fingers didn't look swollen "Leave him alone" "I can't help it. He was gone for soooo long" Kissing the top of Viren's head, their son mumbled out "mumma" as he nuzzled into Eren's chest "How long am I going to be in here?" "A week or so. It depends if any complications arise" "Yay. I've gone from being stuck in one hospital to being stuck in another..." "At least you have all of us for entertainment..." Eren didn't look enthused or amused "Fiiiine. At least you're closer to being back home. Oh. That reminds me. I had Mike go ahead and pick a shower chair up for you, and a couple of rails in the bathroom to make getting around easier" "You didn't need to do that" "Nonsense. You're not to be on your feet for extended periods of time" "I know this" "Then you know it's for your own good, Eren" "It doesn't mean you get to rearrange Levi's apartment while he's not home" It wasn't just his apartment. He'd noticed the changes in Eren's speech that directly related to his omega's mental state. If he was upset, Eren tried to back away from things. It became Levi's room, Levi's apartment and Levi's son. Thankfully, Hanji hadn't or she'd be making Eren even more uncomfortable "He doesn't mind. Your health is our number one priority. Over the next few days, you'll be resting. We'll be performing ultrasounds daily, as well as monitoring you closely. I know you're sick to death of having no privacy and of being poked at... but this is for your own wellbeing and that of the pups. We need to know the second something doesn't feel right or normal" Eren let out a faint whine, Levi squeezing his hand hard "Stop scaring him" "I'm just explaining so he knows what's going on" "You can do that without scaring him" "Guys... that's enough. I think I want to get some more sleep" "Mike is going to look after Viren tonight, because we both know Levi isn't going to want to leave you" "He should go home" "I'm not going anywhere" "Titan and Viren need you" "And they're both going to be taken care of... we haven't had a chance to talk since the surgery" "I don't really feel like talking. I'm still tired from the flight" Hanji caught his eye, her frown obvious "I'm fine. I just need to sleep off the meds and stuff. Levi, you should take Viren home" "I'm staying with you" "Levi" "Eren. I'm staying and that's final. You're husband and I've been worried sick about you. We're home and Mike is happy to look after Viren" "No fighting you two. Eren, I want to take a look at those stitches now, then I'll let you sleep" "Not with Viren in the room..." "Alright. Let me get Mike and we'll figure this out" Eren's stitches didn't look great. That wasn't to say that whoever closed the wound hadn't done a nice job. It was more that he hated that Eren needed them to begin with. The bruising had mostly faded, and the edges had started to scar closed. Replacing the wound dressing, Hanji hummed as she worked "It looks good. The infection has cleared up nicely... you've got a little bit of flaking which is probably itchy as hell, so I'll get some cream for that..." "So, he's ok?" "Yep. You'll have a scar, but things look really good to me" "No signs of another bleed?" "Nope. The bruising and swelling will pass, and we'll find out the rest when we give you an ultrasound" Eren had his eyes closed during Hanji's examination. Breathing through his nose, his husband looked as if he was trying his hardest to fake being asleep "Thanks, Hanji. Is... am I allowed to lay next to him?" "You'll need to be careful not to jostle him, and you'll need to avoid placing any pressure at all on his stomach. For now, I would prefer if you remained sitting by his side until after the ultrasound" "Alright. I'm not going anywhere anyway" "We all know that. I'll try to be here for the ultrasound, then we can find you a blanket or two" Nodding, Hanji flashed him a large smile as she started cleaning up the mess she'd made "It really is good to have you back. Anna is going to be so excited to see you again. She's been asking about you everyday and how "Uncle Eren's babies" are. I'm off for a couple of hours tomorrow around lunch, so I'll bring lunch in with me. You're probably sick to death of hospital food" "They've had him on soft foods" "That makes sense. I know a great place that does an amazing array of desserts. I'm sure I can find a few things" Eren let out a nasally sigh "Ok... can I go to sleep now?" "Sure thing. Levi, you're in charge of watching over him" "Like I'd do anything else"

[miistical]

Realistic Fiction

This is a commission for @refinedgluttony

Humans had lived on the earth for six million years. Humans had been creating things since they had realized what imagination was, what wonder and awe was, what they could make with color and sometimes not even that. Humans walked with a bounce and talked with accents and lisps and cared with all of their body and heart. Humans had evolved from what could now be called creatures, called monsters, called animals. But they became human. That is fact. Humans sometimes wished for more, though. Humans believed in something more than themselves; humans had put faith into false beings; humans had the occult living in their souls. That is fantasy.

Ever since humans could all gain balance and stand, could breath out sounds and make sense of the them, could finally understand their peers, there was an agreement of sorts. That this was fact and that this was fantasy. Fact was passion and the raw sense of hunger—Fact was a disciplined truth seeker and information giver, a being who had been birthed as Athena was: from the mind. Fantasy, their eternal twin, had made a home in oral adventures and sweet lies; legends regaled their journeys by the whispering fire and in the dead of night. Fact and Fantasy did not hate each other as humans often did. Their retellings usually intertwined with one another and so they met nearly every day. There was no resentment between them though - no regret. Fact and Fantasy respected each other deeply and were extremely fond of each other's company. It had been a friendship millennia in the making. Stone tablets and worn tapestries had been dedicated to their union, carvings and paintings memorials to how they danced with one another in every language. Yet, their carelessness had lead to too many stepped-on toes and broken ankles. Fact, especially, had not taken their comfort with one another easily. Concepts and pictures became words. Those words became language that became stories and traditions and religion - and Fact slowly lost themself as time marched on. Fact had started to notice that true events and historical accuracy were twisted and exaggerated into falsities—their delicate work and intricacies torn apart and stitched back together in a collage of improbable events. Their work in science and mathematics, sound and steady work, was ignored and real life occurrences were left as a footnote in an unraveling history textbook. It was as if classrooms seemed less like a well of knowledge and more like the ground where Alexandria's library had burned. Fact, devastated and for once unknowing of what to do, grew bitter. They began to distance themself from their counterpart and Fantasy's myths and mysteries. Fact's self-loathing had created a fissure between them and Fantasy and, would they had been filled with all the poems in world, Fact would have called their empty relationship a song without music. In turn, Fantasy had always seen Fact as a close friend. They had sworn to always be by their side, always in reach when evidence just didn't add up or when it simply was not enough. The sudden separation hurt their very soul, all of their romance stories ending in tragedy. Soon all of their ideas transformed into impossible lies or unrealistic goals—truth no longer had a say in what was written down. Ridiculous figments, mere shadows, haunted novels and short stories alike. Every scratch of a pencil was a tangent, a rant, with no substance. All of Fantasy was shaved down into the unlikely and so they, with eyes of retribution and longing, began the search for their beloved Fact. And as their separation grew until nothing but a chasm was left, Fact too started to wilt and die. Their passion no longer flared and they became uninspired in the absence of Fantasy. The limits of science became stagnant. Research lacked minds to put interest into them; the stars and waves themselves had lost their beguiling nature and untamable resilience - now they were both nothing more than a map waiting to be made. Yet they both carried a certain unwitting end to them. Fact, head and shoulders always above the rest, looked toward the ground, their feet planted and never moving. Fantasy, a floating and shy wisp of a blooming nature, was always tilted back, their eyes trained on the sky. Without the other Fact would surely bury themself while Fantasy would not take long to float along with the clouds. But hands clasped, their ideals working together, Fact had always been able to show the majesty of the forests and seas while Fantasy happily showed off the glories of the sunset and the planets far beyond what the both of them could see. (Of course, of course they mixed. That wasn't the surprising thing. What shocked them both was that it had been Fantasy who had known first and Fact who had acted on emotion.) It wasn't long before they slowly found themselves gravitating to each other for a second time. After all, facts without fiction was just a pretty way to say without intrigue, without interest. After all, fantasy without reality was just a pretty way to say with ignorance, with mistakes. 1818. The year of the ghoul. The year of the ghost. The year of bringing them both to life. A monster, stitched together with blood and insanity, rose through electricity—Science Fiction given life, child to Fact and Fantasy. A monster created by a monster, a marriage of silver horror and gold truth, and it seemed that Fantasy could not shy away from their parenthood. Desperate for closure - for a closing of that canyon between them - Fantasy followed their monster home. They skipped past their old scribbles and paintings until they came upon numbers and calculations. And there, among research logs and exploration entries, Fact stood. There, among burned parchment filled with the script of men who lived and died for the same final truth, Fact turned. Fact stared. Fantasy had only grown more lovely in time. Curled diamonds for hair, skin of secrets whispered at midnight and ghost stories told across fire, freckles like stardust and every grain of sand—their eyes were the shade of anyone who had ever told a story. They floated before Fact and reached out a hand of dripping ink and Fact could feel the dopamine, norepinephrine, and serotonin release into them, knew what was happening. They did nothing to stop it and reached out to ground Fantasy yet again. Fantasy beamed, their smile waves and particles of light, and Fact let themself be blinded. Fact, lined and angled with a precision only a ruler could buy, was long limbed in every sense of the word. Long arms reached with long hands to curl long fingers around the soft edges of Fantasy's face and Fantasy's smile turned supernova - no twinkling fairy light in sight. Fact loved Fantasy with every language, every connotation to the word. "An intense feeling of deep affection" did nothing to revel in the sweet pulsing agony. How they could had ever thought to give up such a treasure, a fortune, a present— ("Why is it called the present, Fact?" "Because the origin of the word stems back to—" "—Fact." "Yes, Fantasy?" "Just ask me why it's called the present." "...why is it called the present, Fantasy?" "Because every day is a gift.") —Fact swore to get it right this time. So as Fantasy began to speak, their tongue curled over all the syllables that gave their words their dreaded melancholy, Fact did something unbeknownst to them. They interrupted Fantasy. Shocked, and justly so, Fantasy blinked those human eyes at Fact and stayed quiet. Fact took a deep inhale of expected anticipation and exhaled untested hypotheses. "I am sorry, my dear Fantasy. I apologize for my absence and my," Fact paused and the word choked out of them and Fact let themself finally fall into that pool of emotion, "ignorance. I apologize for my avoidance of you. I apologize for my wrongful thinking in that I could stay away from you. I apologize for believing our union to be a mistake. I apologize for believing you to be a mistake. My darling Fantasy, I apologize." Fact bowed their head and removed their hands from Fantasy's face. They clutched at Fantasy's hands. Fact knew those hands as well as Fact knew themself but they took in Fantasy's soft hands with a religiously hungry zeal. While Fact's own fingertips had been worn away by years of quills and pencils and pens and keyboards, ink and lead forever staining the creased lines of their palms, Fantasy's hands were unmarked. Fantasy's hands were that of a pianist, thin and easily curved. Nothing marked their skin except for the childish painting they did to themself - anything from small doodles to intricate henna designs could mar their skin at any time. At that moment they were blank and Fact felt their heart break just a little bit. "Life without you is like the sky without the stars: utterly dull and just waiting for someone to fill it. It is like a sea without depth: unsatisfyingly shallow and too close to the earth. It is like a human without a heart: unable to live and unable to die. My sweet Fantasy, I love you. I wish for your company only until the end of time. I will understand if you are cross with me and do not return my sentiments, speak shortly and I will greatly step away. But I beg to be near you again." Fantasy gazed upon the back of Fact's head, tears filled with the joyous cries of reuniting lovers running down their cheeks. They had never heard such strong emotion from their counterpart before—to say they were besotted would be a light thing compared to the utter enchantment Fantasy felt for their beloved Fact. They pried their fingers from Fact's grip and quickly shifted them to Fact's cheeks. Fact's hands rose to lightly curl around Fantasy's wrists as they drew Fact's head up. Fantasy's smile was closed mouth and full of all the tenderness they could give. They kissed Fact on the forehead and felt them suck in a shuddering breath. "Oh, Fact," Fantasy murmured, "I have always been a story without a teller, content without a bookmaker, words without a language, an explorer without a map. I have been waves with no compass and a forest with no guiding star. Truth is in every instance of what life is. Without that base a mountain has no height, a house has no foundation, and a story has no value." Fact's eyes, black holes filled with dark matter, seemed to brighten. Their arms reached over and wrapped around Fantasy and the two collided like a shooting star, like a breathing dragon: filled with all the fire in the world. "You have such wisdom you only show with me," Fact whispered into diamond hair. "If not for your love in return, I only wish to be in your presence from hereafter." "You may have that and more, my darling, for I have always loved you."

[229greenkill]

On Saturday, February 15 at 8 PM, please join host Marc Delgado  for  his highly praised music performance series The Song(writer). This month he his guests will be Chris Maxwell,  Holly Miranda and Ambrosia Parsley. BYOB. Ozubar offers unique soft drinks and snacks at unbelievably low prices. Seating 45. Tickets are $10 dollars and may be purchased at the door or reserved on this page.

About Marc Delgado

Marc Delgado has just enough time

left to do what he wants to do.

There is, after all, limited time…

He lives in Woodstock, NY

with his wife

Artist Melanie Delgado

& their daughter

Mary Scout

& the ghost of their dog

Spike.

About Chris Maxwell

Chris Maxwell wrote, recorded, and mixed [his new record “New Store No. 2] with the help of drummer/producer Jeff Lipstein in his studio, Goat House, which sits next to his red house in the Catskill woods of New York, where he has lived for almost twenty years now. It’s close to a wide stream, which looks a little deep-southern if you happen to see it at dusk. He writes and records music for TV in the studio, and makes other people’s records there. For New Store No. 2 , he knew how to round up the talent, which is a talent all its own. On here he’s got Cindy Cashdollar, Rachel Yamagata, Marco Benevento, Amy Helm, Zack Djanikian, Conor Kennedy, David Baron, Mark Sedgwick, Jay Collins, Aaron Johnston, Jesse Murphy, Cheme Gastelum, and Larry Grenadier, among others, along with longtime collaborator Ambrosia Parsley

Maxwell titled the record New Store No. 2 after a song written about his maternal grandfather, K.J. Jamell, who came from Beirut, Lebanon, and settled in a small town in Arkansas and opened a store there. It’s a sort of fractured fairy tale of the melting-pot American dream and the disappearance thereof. “He was like an alien,” Maxwell says about his grandfather. “Nobody could understand him.” I like the way he uses the word “alien” and for a second actually picture a cartoonish alien figure—someone from a faraway galaxy—and then later wonder if Maxwell himself sometimes feels that way. I certainly do. And maybe that’s why I connected so strongly to his first record and now to his second one. I’ve found a fellow friendly alien. Someone who lets you feel a little less ashamed of the squirrel skeletons out in the family garage.

So take your time with this record. Listen a lot before you try to fit things together. Take joy in the bursts and swells. Bask in the parts that hurt. Embrace it all.

About Holly Miranda

There are ways to look back without getting stuck in the past, and to use what is behind as fuel to move forward. Ambrosia Parsley knows this balance well. “I’m certainly guilty of magical thinking,” says Parsley. “Sometimes I wonder things like… Hmmm, if I hold my breath for five minutes, will the universe reward me with the perfect line to finish this song? I may also be superstitious about certain fatalistic tendencies. I think they allow me to walk away from things, to recognize them for what they are, and at some point forge on. So I keep them close. It gives me a bit of a dark wrap, but I do really enjoy the light–I only wish that it came to me as easily.” The New York singer-songwriter is no stranger to conjuring success, selling a half-million records over the last 15 years with her band, Shivaree, having music in the films of Quentin Tarantino and David O Russell while working with the best and brightest, from Laurie Anderson to Chuck D to Hal Wilner to Dave Sitek. In 2006, though, Parsley gave us the slip, ending her band to raise her son in the Catskill countryside. Songs occasionally crept out—as did Parsley herself, sometimes appearing onstage at small clubs or backing friends—but her promised full-length solo debut repeatedly hit snags. Rather than retreat or show regret, the Parsley carried on, finally releasing Weeping Cherry in France in 2013. And now, 18 months later, the album is finally set to be released Stateside this April through Brooklyn’s Barbès Records, and boosted by a new bonus track (“The Answer”). “I’m walking through life with Gomer Pyle’s mojo,” laughs Parsley. “I’ve lost records to record companies, to miles of red-tape silliness, you name it. In one way it’s been good, because I’ve had so many babies hit on the head with frying pans that I don’t take any of them as seriously as I used to. That’s somewhat liberating.” Despite the dark, mysterious and ghostly qualities of her music and persona, Parsley has never been much of a gloom-and-doom girl. Learning to look beyond the expectations that often come with achievement, her songwriting continues to evolve and find new wings. When speaking about her career she may use terms like “fairy dust” and “silver linings,” but at its core, Weeping Cherry is a work of reflective therapy, an opportunity for its maker to speak to loved ones lost, and to treat the past as prologue. In quick succession, in the span of a single year, Parsley endured the deaths of a series of friends, bandmates, and relatives. The songs of Weeping Cherry are, in her words, “basically conversations with dead people—with the exception of one or two, which feature my tried and true: sin, punishment and redemption. I hadn’t written a solid collection in a really long time, but this one was more exorcism than exercise. And even though it’s such a dark one, I never had so much fun making a record.” Working with longtime collaborators Chris Maxwell and Phil Hernandez (aka The Elegant Too), as well as contributors Danny McGough, Joan Wasser, AA Bondy, Benjamin Biolay, and those dearly departed, Parsley recorded the album piecemeal over many months. The first song captured was “Rubble,” a slow, sexy crawl of a tune that features the singer’s stirring vocal climbing the swelling acoustic tide to a quiet cacophony. “It’s about being afraid of getting dragged down under the bed…into hell,” she says. “Sitting there thinking about all the bad things you’ve ever done, and being pulled under, metaphorically and literally.” Remarkably, the song happened in an instant, without preparation—a rare occurrence for Parsley. “Chris and Phil started playing it and I started singing it and it just happened like that, all at once. It’s the one time it’s ever happened, when I didn’t have anything prepared, some little nugget of an idea to start from. But it was as if the soul of the record just strolled into the room and then everything else got built around it.” Another song, “Catalina,” deals with the passing of a close friend and early collaborator. “A year after we scattered his ashes off Catalina, there was a terrible fire on the island,” she says. “He was such a hell-raiser. I was actually sort of surprised it took him that long to set that place on fire.” As a guitar strums over keyboard chords and soft, steady drums, Parsley’s voice echoes out poignant and emotive, yet confident and full—it’s a cathartic experience just listening to her sing the words, “These prayers are meant to bring you back/Dancing through the fires of the dead.” “I can get let myself get weepy every day,” says Parsley. “But as time goes on, and people really close to you start going, the world becomes a collection of ghosts; they’re still very much with you.” As is her nature, Parsley refused to let the process of creating Weeping Cherry be anything short of a celebration of–and conversation with–the past. “I don’t feel like the record sounds really sad because we weren’t really sad when we were making it,” she says. “I usually can’t write about anything while I’m sad. I can only write about it once it’s funny, which can take a really long time, after its been in the bottle a while. We tried, in between a few nightmares, to sound pretty and joyous. I don’t want to be the designated bummer–I like to laugh and dance too much for that.” And as for that seemingly tearful album title? “It’s named after a big cherry tree at the bottom of my road,” she says. “But, also, did you know that kamikaze pilots often painted cherry blossoms on their planes? So, in honor of my friends who were kamikaze pilots, it felt right.”

About Ambrosia Parsley

There are ways to look back without getting stuck in the past, and to use what is behind as fuel to move forward. Ambrosia Parsley knows this balance well. “I’m certainly guilty of magical thinking,” says Parsley. “Sometimes I wonder things like… Hmmm, if I hold my breath for five minutes, will the universe reward me with the perfect line to finish this song? I may also be superstitious about certain fatalistic tendencies. I think they allow me to walk away from things, to recognize them for what they are, and at some point forge on. So I keep them close. It gives me a bit of a dark wrap, but I do really enjoy the light–I only wish that it came to me as easily.” The New York singer-songwriter is no stranger to conjuring success, selling a half-million records over the last 15 years with her band, Shivaree, having music in the films of Quentin Tarantino and David O Russell while working with the best and brightest, from Laurie Anderson to Chuck D to Hal Wilner to Dave Sitek. In 2006, though, Parsley gave us the slip, ending her band to raise her son in the Catskill countryside. Songs occasionally crept out—as did Parsley herself, sometimes appearing onstage at small clubs or backing friends—but her promised full-length solo debut repeatedly hit snags. Rather than retreat or show regret, the Parsley carried on, finally releasing Weeping Cherry in France in 2013. And now, 18 months later, the album is finally set to be released Stateside this April through Brooklyn’s Barbès Records, and boosted by a new bonus track (“The Answer”). “I’m walking through life with Gomer Pyle’s mojo,” laughs Parsley. “I’ve lost records to record companies, to miles of red-tape silliness, you name it. In one way it’s been good, because I’ve had so many babies hit on the head with frying pans that I don’t take any of them as seriously as I used to. That’s somewhat liberating.”

Despite the dark, mysterious and ghostly qualities of her music and persona, Parsley has never been much of a gloom-and-doom girl. Learning to look beyond the expectations that often come with achievement, her songwriting continues to evolve and find new wings. When speaking about her career she may use terms like “fairy dust” and “silver linings,” but at its core, Weeping Cherry is a work of reflective therapy, an opportunity for its maker to speak to loved ones lost, and to treat the past as prologue.

In quick succession, in the span of a single year, Parsley endured the deaths of a series of friends, bandmates, and relatives. The songs of Weeping Cherry are, in her words, “basically conversations with dead people—with the exception of one or two, which feature my tried and true: sin, punishment and redemption. I hadn’t written a solid collection in a really long time, but this one was more exorcism than exercise. And even though it’s such a dark one, I never had so much fun making a record.” Working with longtime collaborators Chris Maxwell and Phil Hernandez (aka The Elegant Too), as well as contributors Danny McGough, Joan Wasser, AA Bondy, Benjamin Biolay, and those dearly departed, Parsley recorded the album piecemeal over many months. The first song captured was “Rubble,” a slow, sexy crawl of a tune that features the singer’s stirring vocal climbing the swelling acoustic tide to a quiet cacophony. “It’s about being afraid of getting dragged down under the bed…into hell,” she says. “Sitting there thinking about all the bad things you’ve ever done, and being pulled under, metaphorically and literally.” Remarkably, the song happened in an instant, without preparation—a rare occurrence for Parsley. “Chris and Phil started playing it and I started singing it and it just happened like that, all at once. It’s the one time it’s ever happened, when I didn’t have anything prepared, some little nugget of an idea to start from. But it was as if the soul of the record just strolled into the room and then everything else got built around it.” Another song, “Catalina,” deals with the passing of a close friend and early collaborator. “A year after we scattered his ashes off Catalina, there was a terrible fire on the island,” she says. “He was such a hell-raiser. I was actually sort of surprised it took him that long to set that place on fire.” As a guitar strums over keyboard chords and soft, steady drums, Parsley’s voice echoes out poignant and emotive, yet confident and full—it’s a cathartic experience just listening to her sing the words, “These prayers are meant to bring you back/Dancing through the fires of the dead.” “I can get let myself get weepy every day,” says Parsley. “But as time goes on, and people really close to you start going, the world becomes a collection of ghosts; they’re still very much with you.” As is her nature, Parsley refused to let the process of creating Weeping Cherry be anything short of a celebration of–and conversation with–the past. “I don’t feel like the record sounds really sad because we weren’t really sad when we were making it,” she says. “I usually can’t write about anything while I’m sad. I can only write about it once it’s funny, which can take a really long time, after its been in the bottle a while. We tried, in between a few nightmares, to sound pretty and joyous. I don’t want to be the designated bummer–I like to laugh and dance too much for that.” And as for that seemingly tearful album title? “It’s named after a big cherry tree at the bottom of my road,” she says. “But, also, did you know that kamikaze pilots often painted cherry blossoms on their planes? So, in honor of my friends who were kamikaze pilots, it felt right.”

About Green Kill

Green Kill is a multi-use performance space dedicated to a diverse and growing creative community. Green Kill’s mission is to create artistic opportunities through peer to peer organization of talented and dedicated visual, performing and literary artists.

Find out how you can support green kill here: https://greenkill.org/2019/07/12/please-support-green-kill/

Green Kill is a handicapped accessible exhibition performance Space located at 229 Greenkill Avenue, Kingston, New York, 12401, 229greenkill@greenkill.org, open Tuesday to Saturday from 3  pm to 9 pm, with a selection of events on Sundays. Green Kill is closed on national holidays. The phone number is 1(347)689-2323. For the event schedule please visit http://greenkill.org/events. Exhibition viewing hours are Tuesday-Saturday, 3-5 PM or you may make a special appointment by contacting 229greenkill@greenkill.org or phoning 347-689-2323.

The Song(writer), March 21 On Saturday, February 15 at 8 PM, please join host Marc Delgado  for  his highly praised music performance series 

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

COTW 23 - full

Holding Viren, Levi was pacing back and forth in the family waiting area. Eren had already been in surgery for 8 hours, and he was still yet to hear anything about his husband's health. Doctor Reed had suggested he wait back at the hotel, and that she would call when the procedure was over, but Levi couldn't bare to bring himself to leave. He didn't want to be unable to get to Eren in time... Hushing Viren as he started wake, Levi wished someone would pick him up and carry him around. He was dead on his feet, but if he sat, he'd never get back up. Eren hadn't had a great flight down, due to a panic attack that had resulted in him sedated. When he'd woken at Mitras Royal, his husband had been severely disoriented and groggy. He'd begged Levi to take him home, and grown agitated over the lack of rings on his finger, taking hours to come back to reality as the drugs left his system. Having spent the whole night before Eren's flight at the hospital with his omega, then going straight to spending a flight being serenaded with Viren's stunning "operatic" vocals, and topping the trifecta with a terrified Eren, Levi was tired, smelly, exhausted to the point of nausea and nursing a headache greater than Viren's ability to scream. He knew Viren couldn't help the pain in his ears that came from flying, but out of everyone on the plane, only one little old beta woman had been happy to help. The rest of the passengers getting mad at the three year old for something he couldn't help or understand. By the twelve hour mark, Levi was wondering if they'd forgotten he existed. He'd given up pacing, thanks to his knees threatening to give out, and thanks to having to take Viren to the bathroom, and for food. His paranoia left him wondering if they'd come to find him, then found that he wasn't there and assumed he'd left. His arse was numb, his back hurt like a bitch and his eyes burned from a lack of sleep, but there was no way he was going home. 16 hours after kissing Eren goodbye as he wheeled away, Doctor Reed finally came to find him. The woman looked as bad as he felt "Levi" Rising to his feet, she gestured for him to sit. Levi's heart was hammering as he did "How... how is he?" "It was a hard and difficult surgery. Separating the tumour wasn't easy..." Oh god... oh... fuck... this was it... Eren had... he was... Levi's eyes filled with tears, Doctor Reed placing her hand on his shoulder "... and we were unable to remove the entirety of the tumour, however, we did remove over 80 percent of the tissue. Now. There were some complications, extending procedure time. The pup went into distress which is why we didn't remove the tumour in its entirety, the second twin then slipping into distress from the extended surgery..." Reed paused, Levi was getting over these pauses real fucking fast "Eren?" "Eren crashed on the table, suffering a major bleed as we were closing. We closed the bleed, and got his heart back into normal sinus rhythm, but we've placed him in a medically induced coma to relieve the pressure on his body. The next 48 hours are going to be critical. We'll be monitoring both pups very closely, as well as Eren for clots, preterm-labour, or secondary bleeds. We won't know if there are any lasting effect from the bleed, until he wakes" Levi felt as if he'd been dumped into an ice bath. His stomach clenching so hard that vomited into his mouth "Now. I know you're anxious to see him, but we have him a sterile room to lower risk of infection, and we will be keeping him under until we are absolutely sure he is strong enough to be brought back out. You need to go home and rest" Rest... how could he rest? "I know everything I said is scary, but it was nothing outside the realms of possibilities we knew may occur during this procedure. I'm also not sugar coating it, because I know you'd be insulted if I did. So the best thing you can do for Eren, is to go back to your hotel and rest" "I want to see him" "That's not currently possible" "I... I don't care if I can't talk to him, I need to see him... he's... my husband" Reed took a long breath in through her nose "Please. I need to see he's out of surgery" "You won't be able to communicate with him, and the amount of equipment surrounding him may be alarming" "I know. I'm prepared for that. But I still need to see him. We've come all this way. He's in a city and hospital he doesn't know. Having a surgery he was scared shitless over, and now you tell me he died on table. I need to... see him" Reed softened "I can give you a few minutes, but you have to promise me you'll rest" Levi nodded quickly "Alright, come with me" Forced to stand on the outside of the room, Eren was locked away from him. His omega's room was directly across from nurses station, which was generally reserved for the riskier of patients. Normally doctor's liked their patiences to come out of anesthetiser naturally, but there Eren was. Surrounded by monitors, his stomach bare and other than the small sensor pads placed across his swell to monitor the vitals of their pups. Levi found no relief at the sight of Eren like that. He looked too thin, and far too pale "Levi?" Blinking, he realised Reed had placed her hand on his shoulder again "My team is the best on the whole island. He is in very good hands here" "He looks like a doll" "He may be pale, but he did just go through a 13 hour procedure. Even unconscious, surgery is a heavy burden on the body, and there is a risk of infection. Being in a coma is the best thing for him right now" So they had left him waiting... They'd left him to stew in his own misery "He'll wake up again, won't he?" "We have no reason to doubt he won't once the drugs are weaned from his system. He will be weak, but if all goes well, he'll be home by the 28th" Levi nodded, swapping Viren to his opposite hip. He and Eren had married on the 13th, it was now the 17th or was maybe even the 18th... Eren was due to remain in Mitras until the 21st, then to be transferred back to Shinganshima. He didn't see Eren being home by the 28th, nor did he see him testifying on the 6th of March like Floch had organised... Eren wanted to take the stand as it would be the states lawyers questioning him this time, and giving him a chance to explain his life in his own words. Floch was sitting on the pushing incident, which left Levi furious, yet the man had restated that he had a plan "Now. The best thing for you is sleep" Levi nodded, he didn't want to take his eyes off Eren. The three rings and the two wolves he wore around neck felt incredibly heavy, almost like a hangman's noose. If anything else were to happen... he'd lose his head "Thank you... and thank you for... for saving them..." "You're welcome. I never promised this would be easy, but we all came through the other side in one piece. Are you alright to get home from here?" "Yeah... yeah, I've got it covered" "Then no doubt I'll see you soon" "Thank you..." Back at the hotel, Levi crashed hard. Getting Viren, and himself, showered and changed used up the last of his energy reserves. Turning the TV on and setting it to low for the background noise, he pulled his son into bed with him. Viren wasn't a happy camper, not after a whole day at hospital with being able to run and play, but Levi wasn't about to let him go loose in a hotel room, even if the door was weighted and chained. He needed the soft warmth of his son against him. He needed to know he was safe, no matter how many whines and grabby fingers to the face he took in the process. Sleeping came easy, the hard part was when Viren woke him early demanding food. The boy had somehow rid himself of his nappy, and pants, and all managed to make one hell of a mess of their hotel room. Ordering room service, Levi was ready for another however many hours of sleep he'd gotten. Chasing Viren down and getting him back into a pair of pants, his son promptly pulled them back down, before attempting another break for it. It wasn't fair how much energy toddlers had... or maybe he was just getting old. Breakfast was another trying experience. The syrup from their pancakes ended up across the sheets, with strawberries smeared into the sheets for extra flavour. His cup of tea fell victim too, its appeal lost once half chewed, toddler drooled on, pancake ended up floating in it. If Eren had been there, he would have had everything under control, and the room service man wouldn't have had to deal with a toddler with his willy in his hand yelling about making it bigger, when the poor guy was just trying to do his job. Levi gave a him a decent tip, the man taking it all in good humour as Levi tried to assure him that this wasn't an every occurrence and that Viren was his son, and that he wasn't up to anything shady. When he thought about it after the fact, his awkwardness was probably what he was laughing about. Once again he found himself thinking Eren would have handled everything so much better. With too much energy for his own good, Levi googled parks on his phone. It was barely 8am, so he wouldn't be able to visit his omega for another two hours. Two more hours he would have preferred to be have used to sleep, but Viren was just too wired, and their bed was a mess. Fighting to get his son dressed, then himself, he went to scold his son for jumping on their bed, when the boy jumped on him with a joyous cry "Daddy! Cuddle Attack!" "Whoa!" Spinning round with Viren in his arms, his bad mood lifted. He wouldn't be out of his flunk until Eren was back home, but this was nice. His son didn't mean to tax his nerves or neurons, and his pure happiness was like a salve to the throbbing wound that was his worry for Eren "What do you say, you and I go to the park, then we'll find something nice to bring mummy" "Mummy!" "Do you miss mummy?" Viren nodded, his wide grey eyes questioning Levi silently "Mummy had to have a special procedure, to make sure he and your little siblings are alright. But he loves you, very much and he's going to be ok" "Can mummy come to the park?" "Not today, baby. But he's going to want hear all about all the fun things you've been doing" "Daddy, why does mum always have to be sick?" "Mummy doesn't want to be sick, but this special procedure is to make him better..." "I don't like it" "I know. How about we get a special gift you can give mummy? And when he's all better, you can tell him how much you love him" "I do" Kissing Viren forehead, he nodded "That's my boy... let's head out to the park" His mind really wasn't on playing, but without other children there, his son had latched onto him. He stubbornly demanded Levi watched as he climbed up the half dozen ladder rungs, so he could slide down a slide as long as Levi's leg. Whoever had designed the park, had definitely not thought about kids at all. The playground was only a slide and a couple of swings, half hidden in the ridiculously perfect grounds. It suited Mitras though, it's rich and money burning image, along with its closed society where kids were probably just thought as pretty decorations. Viren didn't really enough space to explore or enough to work off any extra energy... so he wasn't surprised when Viren came running to him and begged to go on the swings. This was only their second day in the city... he had no idea how he was going to keep Viren entertained for the rest of them. * Eren kept him waiting, his husband had been showing signs of waking all day, but it was 9 hours after he first started to stir that Eren's eyes finally opened. As feared there'd been a few complications. The pups vitals had dipped so low they thought they may have to deliver them ahead of time, before gradually improving, but not before Levi just about collapsed on the spot. Then an infection had started to form along the edge of surgery site. A hair follicle irritated by a stitch, but it was enough to scare the shit out of him again. Kept under for a third day, Eren's system was flooded with antibiotics, and the fourth day after his operation, he was finally weaned off the barbiturates. Hitting the call button, Levi rose and grabbed Eren's hand, as Eren's heart rate began to rise with panic "Shhh. It's the breathing tube, don't fight it... you're ok" Blinking at him, Eren's whole face softened. Though his gaze was unfocused, his husband knew he was there, his struggling lessening "You kept me waiting beautiful.... shhh, don't fight the tube. You're ok... you're ok, bright eyes" Eren weakly squeezed his hand. It'd been a long four days. Especially when he'd been told Eren would be under for another day. Moved away so the tube could be removed, Eren's first move was to reach for Viren. The boy crying as he watched the tube come out, and Eren began to cough. Sitting Viren on the edge of Eren's bed, his husband smiled sleepily "H-hey..." "Rest your voice. Both know how those tubes feel" "Horrible" Levi snorted softly, moving to drag the visitors chair closer to Eren's bed before sitting. Trust Eren to try jumping right into talking again. Reaching up, he brushed Eren's hair back from his face, rubbing his forehead with his thumb as he felt himself tear up "You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen" Eren coughed as he shook his head, wincing slightly as he dropped his head back against the pillow. Levi's heart jumped into his throat "Eren?" "Throat" "Then rest. Let me try read your lips" Eren didn't seem convinced, but his husband was fast falling back to sleep "Pups" "Both... both are fine... I'm fine. Viren's fine and you're going to be just fine too" Eren didn't need to know anything other than that "Good... mmm, baby..." Kissing Eren's cheek, Viren blew a raspberry. Lifting the toddler back into his lap, he wasn't happy to be parted with his mum "Mummy's still recovering, here. Hold mummy's hand. He's really missed you" "Missed him too" Levi was pretty certain that wasn't the case given Eren hadn't been conscious to miss him, but the way Viren carefully held Eren's hand with both his smaller ones were adorable. Just as carefully, he laid his left cheek down on the back of it "We did a little shopping for you... He wanted to buy you half the soft toys in the store" And a million other things he grabbed off the shelves, loudly proclaiming "for mummy" each time Levi took it from his hands to return it the shelf "He's a good kid" "Yeah. A complete and total handful, but he's so much like you" "N'mm like you" Eren's eyes started to slide closed. The eyes that had haunted his dreams and teased him over how long it'd been since he'd seen them "Get some more sleep, bright eyes" "It's been a while since y' call'd me that" "I've missed seeing your eyes... I've missed all of you" "Mmm... sorry... still sleepy" "I can see that. We're not going anywhere" "Love you guys" "We love you too" Sleeping for the next few hours, the second time Eren woke, Levi took Viren out the room while the checked Eren over. His husband didn't remember their earlier conversation, but it wasn't like he'd expected him to. Given it'd gotten so late, they probably wouldn't be able to stay for that much longer. Viren was bored and sleepy. Upset mummy couldn't get up and play. Making it a mission to find his son a cookie, he managed to keep the toddler entertained for a solid half an hour, before Viren got his cookie and they returned to Eren's room. Sitting up, Eren smiled at them tiredly "Look who's awake" "Look who's filling our son with sugar" "Mummy!" Viren made a run for Eren, Levi catching him as he tripped over his own feet and nearly lost his hard earned cookie. Carrying him over to Eren, he sat down with their son in his lap "Hey, baby. That's a pretty big cookie you've got there" "I needed bribery. How do you feel?" "I'm ok... sleepy... but I'm ok" "Good. Did they say anything?" "Mmm... yeah... pups are ok... that's the main thing" "What else did they say?" "A whole heap of words..." Levi forced a laugh. What he really wanted to know was if they talked about how the surgery went, but he didn't want to upset his omega by asking "Said we'd talk about it tomorrow with... with Reed" Yawning, Eren reached out to Viren to rest his hand on his head "My baby been good for daddy?" "It's been interesting" "He's been bored" "You could say that. I never realised how much time he spent sticking his hand down his pants" Eren laughed, before groaning with pain. His hand going from Viren's head to his stomach "Eren?" "Laughing isn't so great... I feel like I'm going to burst" "No laughing. Ok..." "Mmm... skins itchy too" "You had the start of an infection, but they've got it under control" "I think they said something about that too... and bleeding... I really can't remember" "Don't try and force it..." "'m not... how about you? You look sleepy" That was so very Eren "I'm ok. You have me a bit of scare though. I'm sure my hair's more grey than black these days" "Sorry... I like your hair black" "It's fine" "Tell me what you've been up to. Have you been having fun with daddy?" Viren hid behind his cookie, Eren giving another laugh and a groan "I should know better than to ask" "We went to the park, and we've been shopping. They have a kids channel at the hotel..." "TV babysitting for the win..." "Yeah. I've been lost without you around" "I'm sure that's not true" "I let him out in public without shoes on yesterday. Completely forgot them" "I've done that before too. You're not alone" "That's nice to know... I've missed... I've missed you so much" Tearing up, Eren gave him a loving smile "Hey. I'm ok" "I was scared you wouldn't wake" "Like I'd leave my two best men alone... hey, come here" Moving Viren up to Eren's bed, Levi wrapped his arms around both his loves. Nuzzling and kissing Eren's temple, he didn't care that Eren's hair smelt or that his mate hadn't showered in days. All he cared about was holding him again. The floodgates breaking open completely "You died... you left me and you died... and I wasn't there" "Shhhh... it's ok, alpha. It's ok" "I was so fucking useless. I kept wondering if it was ok to be taking Viren to play or to go shopping. I kept thinking about you" "I know you would have. I know. But it's over now, right?" "Y-yeah..." Eren picked up on the stuttered in his word "They couldn't remove all the tumour, but they got most of it... and then you nearly... you were gone" "Shhh, Levi. Levi, it's ok. I'm ok... my poor alpha. You've been so worried, while I slept. Have you called anyone? Let them know how things are?" "N-no..." "Leeeee. You were supposed to" "I texted Mike when you came out of surgery. But... I didn't want to hear it" "You said you'd call them. I didn't want you being alone" "I couldn't. Not until you were awake. I love you... I love you so much" "I love you, Lee. And I love my baby boy... can you lift Viren? He's on my stomach" "Oh! Shit... hold on..." Viren clutched to his cookie and at Eren's hospital gown as Levi pulled him back into his hold as he sat back in the visitors chair "Better?" "Not really... I'd rather the cuddles" "When we get home, you're going to have so many cuddles that you won't know what to do" "I wouldn't mind them now. My omega's so confused over everything. It wants its alpha, and wants to kill whoever touched our pups" "I don't think Reed will appreciate that" "Nor do I. How's your alpha?" Anxious. Worried. Angry. Confused. Freaking the fuck out... "Better now you're awake" "Coming off suppressants doesn't help either" "You're supposed to be worrying about yourself, not me" "Of course I'm going to worry about my family. You guys are my everything" "And you're ours..." Knocking on the glass door, a young nurse poked her head in the room "I'm sorry, but visiting hours are coming to the end" Withdrawing before he could reply, Levi looked back to Eren. His omega having paled in the last few moments "Eren?" "'m ok" "Hey, if you don't want us to go, I can ask about staying" "No. No, you need to take Viren home. He needs a bath and it's way past his bedtime" Murmuring the words, Eren's tearing eyes betrayed him "Eren..." "It's ok. I know you guys can't stay... I'm just... feeling really clingy..." "Like I said, I can ask" Eren wiped his eyes, not stemming the running tears "No... you look tired too... and I'm not... not going anywhere" "I can't leave you like this" "I know I shouldn't be scared, but I don't know this place... it doesn't smell like home" "Shhh... it's ok. You're safe. Here, Viren hop up for a second" Lifting Viren off his lap, Levi pulled his jacket off. Not caring it wasn't hygienic as he moved to lay it under Eren's head and across his pillows "Better?" "I love your scent..." "Good. I'll..." "You should take Viren back to the hotel... He spends too much time in hospital" "I don't want to leave you" "I don't want you two sleeping here..." "What can I do? I hate seeing you crying" "Give me a kiss?" Levi was happy to oblige, the nasal cannula getting in the way as he did. Straightening it out, he smiled at his mate sadly. He hated how scared Eren was becoming "I'll be here first thing in the morning, and we'll stay the whole day. I'll bring my phone in, so you can use it if you want, or look at photos. I've taken heaps of photos because I know you love them" "I... I don't deserve you" "Oh, bright eyes. You deserve the world. And who knows, maybe I'll bring you your own huge cookie" "Reed said I can't eat solid right now" Levi frowned "When did she say that?" "Before the surgery... because of you know... giving birth out my arse" Oh... yeah... straining to take a shit might not be the best thing right now "Right. Then I'll just have to make you cookies when we get home" "I'll hold you to that... where's Viren? I want to give him a kiss" It fucking sucked to leave Eren behind. His omega looked heartbroken as he guided Viren out Eren's room. He should have insisted that Eren slept. If he'd been asleep when Levi and Viren left, then his mate wouldn't be so sad... * Eren was flown back on the 23rd of February rather than the 21st. Coughing too hard due to his irritated throat had caused a tear in his stitching, and another unexpected surgery. Even if it was a very minor bleed, he was proud that Eren caught the fact that something was wrong, and spoken up about it rather than trying to hide the bleeding. Coming back home to Shinganshima was relieving. Eren was heavily depressed over the remaining tumour mass, despite trying hard not to show it. His husband's vitals had been all over the place, and Reed wouldn't sign off on the transfer until they'd steadied and remained within suitable values for 24 hours. Viren had once again hated flying, crying from the moment the cabin pressurised, right up to the moment he was taken into Hanji's arms at the hospital. Being on home turf made it easier to keep his worry under control. Eren was back in an environment he knew, and they'd be able to have some together as they had babysitters available. Meeting him at the front of the hospital, Hanji was all smiles as cuddled with Viren "It's about time you got back" "Nice to see you, too. How's Eren?" "Popped in to see him before, but he was sleeping. The transfer went like clockwork, buuuut, you're both in the sh-shoe with me" "Oh? Why now?" Falling into step with Hanji was easy. It felt like he could breathe easier and the air all that much cleaner than it had been in Mitras "Getting married without telling anyone! I can't believe you stole my Honey away, and eloped" "Who told you? Was it Eld or Gunther?" "What?! They knew?! How come they got to know?! I wanted to throw Eren a huge wedding... did you do it right!? Was he happy!?" "We got married at the courthouse before Eren's surgery... and if it wasn't them, then who?" "It was on his transfer papers. Under personal affects was listed none as they were in the possession of his husband" "I knew I hated paperwork" "Why didn't you tell meeeeee?! Do you know how long I've been mentally planning this wedding?! How many hours I've put into the seat charts and flowers?!" "Don't worry, we still want a big wedding... Eren was scared of dying without marrying me" If he said he was just as scared, Hanji would pull the piss out of him for the rest of his life "And here I was, ready to give you shit. I can't tease you for a reason like that" "Once the trial is over and the pups are born, then we'll talk wedding. That's the agreement" "I read his updated medical records..." "And?" Pressing the elevator button, Hanji made him wait until they'd stepped inside and she'd pushed the button to the floor Eren was on before continuing "And I read about what happened... how is?" "Not happy. He's trying to hide it, but he feels guilty for not being strong enough for the whole of the tumour to be removed. Which is complete shoe. His omega's also been all over the place. He's wanted cuddles, but we got in trouble for Viren sitting on his bed, and I got us in trouble for leaving my jacket over his pillow so he'd have my scent" "Well, he's home now. Mike said he'd take Viren tonight. He also said that Titan needs to go on a diet" "He's fine the way he is... and I might take him up on that. We haven't had a chance to talk about everything. Not with little ears in the room" "How did he enjoy his holiday?" Watching the doors open, this time Levi made Hanji wait as he stepped off. Viren was practically asleep in her hold "He didn't. He wanted Eren and didn't understand why he couldn't be there. Plus, being in a hotel room most of the time left him with energy to spare. The second day Eren was awake, he talked at him for two hours straight" "I'm sooooo glad Anna's growing out of that. She's made Eren a card, but I'm not allowed to give it to him. And she's been lost without Viren" "For being your daughter, she's not as much as a pain in the arse as you are" "I know. She reminds me so much of Moblit... I'd like to take credit, but Eren has been so good with her" "Eren's really good with kids, and omegas. It's a shame he never got to put those skills to use outside of babysitting and saving omegas being attacked" "He's still young. Give it a couple of years for the pups to grow" "I know he's still young. I'm just saying..." "You're saying your smitten by everything he does" "He is my husband" "I know that. Do I get to see the wedding ring?" "Once it's back on his finger with the other two" "You've bought him half a jewellery shop... the rings, the charm bracelet, the wolves..." "Eren bought the wolves..." He couldn't deny Hanji's point though. He'd bought Eren four rings over the span of their relationship, which would possibly be around $7000 worth of jewellery... or so. But when compared to the fact that some spent that on a single ring, it really didn't seem that bad. Besides, Eren was beautiful. He'd had such a hard life and deserved pretty things. And the charm bracelet was Eren's pride and joy. A "V" added for their son, and when the next two pups came, he'd buy charm letters for both of them "Ooooooh. That makes me more sense" "Yeah. He didn't want me to give his jewellery back until we were back home. Viren's been after the wolves" Eren was awake when they walked in, giving them a small wave, Hanji raised an eyebrow "Is that all I get?" "Sorry. Hey, Hanji. How've you been?" "I've been worried about my little Sweetheart. My married, Sweetheart" Eren looked from Hanji to him "I didn't tell her. It was on your paperwork" "Oh... yeah... um... we got married" "I know. I mean. I heard. Levi said I couldn't look at the wedding ring until it was back on your finger" "That might be a while... I think they're swollen" Swollen? Since when? Eren's fingers were on the slender side. Like those of a piano player "Noooo... I want to seeeee! I can't believe you guys didn't invite me" "It was a small ceremony" "With a nice wedding night. Can I have Viren?" Walking over to Eren, Hanji set Viren down beside him. Leaving Levi to walk around the bed and sink down to sit on the other side "How do you feel? Any pain? Or discomfort?" "Hanji, you know what it's like to be pregnant. Everything hurts... and my tits are leaky" Hanji giggled "This is true. I want to take a little look at your stitches while I'm here" Levi sighed, taking Eren's hand into his. His omega's fingers didn't look swollen "Leave him alone" "I can't help it. He was gone for soooo long" Kissing the top of Viren's head, their son mumbled out "mumma" as he nuzzled into Eren's chest "How long am I going to be in here?" "A week or so. It depends if any complications arise" "Yay. I've gone from being stuck in one hospital to being stuck in another..." "At least you have all of us for entertainment..." Eren didn't look enthused or amused "Fiiiine. At least you're closer to being back home. Oh. That reminds me. I had Mike go ahead and pick a shower chair up for you, and a couple of rails in the bathroom to make getting around easier" "You didn't need to do that" "Nonsense. You're not to be on your feet for extended periods of time" "I know this" "Then you know it's for your own good, Eren" "It doesn't mean you get to rearrange Levi's apartment while he's not home" It wasn't just his apartment. He'd noticed the changes in Eren's speech that directly related to his omega's mental state. If he was upset, Eren tried to back away from things. It became Levi's room, Levi's apartment and Levi's son. Thankfully, Hanji hadn't or she'd be making Eren even more uncomfortable "He doesn't mind. Your health is our number one priority. Over the next few days, you'll be resting. We'll be performing ultrasounds daily, as well as monitoring you closely. I know you're sick to death of having no privacy and of being poked at... but this is for your own wellbeing and that of the pups. We need to know the second something doesn't feel right or normal" Eren let out a faint whine, Levi squeezing his hand hard "Stop scaring him" "I'm just explaining so he knows what's going on" "You can do that without scaring him" "Guys... that's enough. I think I want to get some more sleep" "Mike is going to look after Viren tonight, because we both know Levi isn't going to want to leave you" "He should go home" "I'm not going anywhere" "Titan and Viren need you" "And they're both going to be taken care of... we haven't had a chance to talk since the surgery" "I don't really feel like talking. I'm still tired from the flight" Hanji caught his eye, her frown obvious "I'm fine. I just need to sleep off the meds and stuff. Levi, you should take Viren home" "I'm staying with you" "Levi" "Eren. I'm staying and that's final. You're husband and I've been worried sick about you. We're home and Mike is happy to look after Viren" "No fighting you two. Eren, I want to take a look at those stitches now, then I'll let you sleep" "Not with Viren in the room..." "Alright. Let me get Mike and we'll figure this out" Eren's stitches didn't look great. That wasn't to say that whoever closed the wound hadn't done a nice job. It was more that he hated that Eren needed them to begin with. The bruising had mostly faded, and the edges had started to scar closed. Replacing the wound dressing, Hanji hummed as she worked "It looks good. The infection has cleared up nicely... you've got a little bit of flaking which is probably itchy as hell, so I'll get some cream for that..." "So, he's ok?" "Yep. You'll have a scar, but things look really good to me" "No signs of another bleed?" "Nope. The bruising and swelling will pass, and we'll find out the rest when we give you an ultrasound" Eren had his eyes closed during Hanji's examination. Breathing through his nose, his husband looked as if he was trying his hardest to fake being asleep "Thanks, Hanji. Is... am I allowed to lay next to him?" "You'll need to be careful not to jostle him, and you'll need to avoid placing any pressure at all on his stomach. For now, I would prefer if you remained sitting by his side until after the ultrasound" "Alright. I'm not going anywhere anyway" "We all know that. I'll try to be here for the ultrasound, then we can find you a blanket or two" Nodding, Hanji flashed him a large smile as she started cleaning up the mess she'd made "It really is good to have you back. Anna is going to be so excited to see you again. She's been asking about you everyday and how "Uncle Eren's babies" are. I'm off for a couple of hours tomorrow around lunch, so I'll bring lunch in with me. You're probably sick to death of hospital food" "They've had him on soft foods" "That makes sense. I know a great place that does an amazing array of desserts. I'm sure I can find a few things" Eren let out a nasally sigh "Ok... can I go to sleep now?" "Sure thing. Levi, you're in charge of watching over him" "Like I'd do anything else" "I don't need a babysitter" "You do too. Besides, I don't want to be the one to make Levi leave. You might not know it, but he's scary" "Mmm... I've been told... I think I need to sleep for like a year" "You can't sleep for a year, there's the trial and then there these two than need to come out. And this little one of mine. Nope. Sorry. No can do" "Can I sleep for a month?" "There's still the trial, Honey" Levi wanted to smack Hanji for being stupid enough to bring the trial up, but then... Eren laughed softly "Damn. Foiled again..." "I know. But you're home now. We're going to get you through this, and that's final" "Yes, mum. Now let me sleep" "You'd be asleep if you didn't keep talking" "Then stop talking to me" "You're the one talking to me" "Fine. Good night" "Goodnight, sleep tight. Don't let the big bad alpha bite" "Mmm... ok" When Hanji left, Levi sighed "Do you want to tell me what you're thinking?" "I'm sleepy" "Eren, I'd like to think I know a little something about my own husband by now. I know you're pulling away, and I want to know why" When Eren didn't answer right away, Levi squeezed his hand "It's the pup. I know it's the pup. Bright eyes, it's not your fault they had to end the procedure" Eren replied flatly "How do you know that?" "Because Reed said as much. The pup was going into distress, so she made the call. And yes, you're going to have a caesarean, but you were going to have one anyway" "I... it feels like all this... was for nothing... it was supposed to fix it... and it didn't... fix anything" Releasing Eren's hand, Levi moved to pull his husband against him "That's not true... that's not true at all" "Tell me how that isn't true. He's going to need more surgery... and he's still got that tumour attached to him..." "Oh, so it's a he now. I thought we weren't finding out" Eren sniffled, his scent was all over the place, as if his omega really couldn't understand how to feel "I don't know... but... they need more surgery. I'm sick of our pup needing more surgery. It's not fair. They didn't do anything wrong. The only thing they've done wrong is have me for a mother" "That's not true. You're an incredible mother" "An... an incredible mother who died on the operating table... I ruin everything" "You had a bleed, which was not your fault. You'd just had a mammoth procedure done. You haven't ruined a single thing. Yes. The pup will need more surgery once they're born, but, with a decrease in tumour mass, less of everything they need to grow will be going into it. It's going to ease the pressure on his systems, and make things easier until he's born. Eren, you're an amazing mum. This world is filled with people who don't care about their children. Most people would have aborted, but you wanted them to have a chance to live. To experience everything and to be happy" "But what if something else is wrong? What if he's wrong? What if when he's born, he's... he can't look after himself" "No baby can look after its self" "You know what I mean!" "Then, we'll figure it out" "Not everything can be figured out. What kind of quality of life is there if he's nothing more than... than a vegetable..." "Hey... we don't know that... and, if something were to happen, we both know how hard you fought for him to have a normal and good life. I mean it Eren. You're the reason our family functions. When I'm with Viren, I'm still scrambling to figure out how to make him happy and how to keep him entertained. I don't know how to calm him down, or anything like that... I thought I was doing a good job at being a father, but these past few months taught me, and showed me, how much of a failure I had been" "You're not a failure... you had to work" "While I kept leaving the pair of you home alone" "He's too young to remember. But you had to work. I got it..." "You shouldn't have to get it. I realised something when I took Viren to the park. All those times we were sick, you nursed us like it was nothing... but unless you couldn't hide it, you hid being sick from us, didn't you?" "It's what a parent does... Viren didn't understand... you were busy... so I had to..." "I'm sorry, Eren. If I could back in time, I would..." "You had to work... and it wasn't always bad... Hanji let me stay there sometimes... or Mike would come check on me if she was busy" "And I had no idea" "I asked them not to tell. You had a really hard job. You didn't need to be worrying over something like me" "You're not a thing. You're my husband. My husband who I wished would be more selfish and tell me the things he wants and needs" "I want this all to be over... I'm so scared that I'm going to sneeze and go into labour... Mitras was so fucking scary at night... but I didn't want to be even more of a burden on you. I'm sick of it" "You're not a burden. You're stubborn and frustrating, but you're not a burden... and soon these two little ones will be part of our family, and the pain of all of this will fade to a memory" "I want a girl... but... I don't know. I don't want Anna to be jealous" "I think Anna would be thrilled if you had a girl. Viren was the one who didn't want a sister" "That's because he only had girls to play with... I want a brother for him... so he can feel what it is to have a brother who loves you..." "So you want a girl and a boy, that sounds pretty perfect to me" "Sometimes I wonder what the other pup would have been..." "I do to. But I don't care if they're male or female, I only care that their mother is safe and heathy" "You're supposed to care about them" "I do. But I can't run this family the way you can. And if you're safe and healthy, so are they" Eren nodded, sniffling louder as he tried to calm down "It's just so frustrating" "I know it is. I know, but I'm here with you" "I'm sorry for making you worry... I haven't been able to calm down since the surgery... everything in my head... I can't work it out" "Unlike Mitras, no one is stupid enough to tell us off or separated. After the ultrasound, I'm going to curl up in this bed with you, and cuddle the fuck out of you" "I... I want that so fucking much... I've been really lonely" "Not anymore. Anyone who tries to seperate, I'll hand Viren off to when he's mid tantrum" "That's cruel" "He throws some impressive tantrums" "Anna's were just as bad when she was his age. One time she found a pair of scissors and gave herself a hair cut, then screamed herself hoarse when Hanji took the scissors off her. Another time, Hanji gave her the wrong fork, so Anna threw her food at her. It ended with Anna on the floor screaming as she smacked her spilt dinner" "Oh... wow..." "Mhmmm" "And we have two more tantrum machines coming" "Aren't you glad you quit work for this?" "I'm starting to wonder..." Eren let out a tiny laugh "If you want to go back, I won't blame you. You're the kind of person who has to always be busy" "I'm pretty sure I'm going to be plenty busy" "What I mean is, you need the job or a job too..." "Who knows. I could be the house husband and you could get the job" "I tried... I tried really hard before I found out I was pregnant. No one wants to hire omega's. One guy yelled at me for wasting his time. One guy told me I could have a job if I let him fuck me in front of everyone in the cafe it was at... the only job I could maybe get again would be as a dancer and you don't want me to show my body off..." "You didn't tell me this" "Why would I?" "Because..." "Because what? It's so common it's not worth mentioning. There was one I kind of wanted. It was just an office job, but it was the kind of place I never thought I'd be able to even get an interview at. The problem was, they wanted someone with a higher education... but you get that" "I..." "I don't want to talk about it anymore. I think I want to nap" This time, Levi let Eren get away with it. Despite his protesting muscles and aching back, Levi remained hunched over and awkwardly hugging Eren until his husband actually fell asleep. The fact that no one wanted to hire someone like Eren, left him sick to his stomach. Anyone would be lucky to be working with Eren. He cared deeply about those around him, and was always working hard to improve himself and the things he took an interest in... yet society had spat on his again for being an omega. He may have been joking about being a house husband, on partly, but now it might really be better if Eren was the one to get a job once everything had settled down again. It'd be an enormous confidence boost for his mate. Something Eren definitely needed... but until that happened, maybe Eren would be interested in going back to school and learning something new? Levi had been thinking he should probably look at retraining too, so maybe they could find something to do together?