#I’ll stop filling up the tag with my silly little sketches I promise | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cassiabaggins · 3 years

Text

Gifts

A/N: Part/day five! I hope you enjoy and thank you so much for the comments on the previous parts!

Wordcount: 3k

Tags: @anjhope1 @deathlikessodaandpizza @guardianofrivendell @myrin1234 @wettomatodude @lothloriien @annkdarar @artsywaterlily @hmmm-what-am-i-doing @drowingintheempty @estethell @claraofthepen @kilielweek

First Next Masterlist

Warnings: none, it’s pure fluff. Unless Kili being cheeky counts as a warning...

Summary: Kili and Tauriel share a late night picnic, a carefully made gift, a kiss under the moonlight, and a promise.

It starts off as a simple sketch of a bow on the corner of a piece of parchment. Kili is no great artist, but he knows his projectile weapons, and he stares at this little sketch for a long while, just thinking. Then, he goes to inspect the woodworker’s guild. It starts on a whim, a fine stave of yew laying set aside for some project. He picks it up absently, turning it over in his hands.

“A fine choice in wood there, Your Highness!” one of the guilddwarrow says.

“Yew, is it not?” he queries idly.

“Aye! And a fine specimen! Fine bows are made of that wood, but being an archer I suppose you already know that.”

Kili nods. “I do. Say, is anyone using this stave?”

“I don’t believe so, sir, but what do you mean to do with it, begging your pardon?”

“I know someone who needs a new bow,” he says. “Hers was broken.”

“Broken? Ah, mighty bad luck, having your primary weapon break.”

“Aye, mighty bad luck indeed.”

The following weeks are filled with rough drafts, mock ups, practice carvings, and an obscene amount of frustration. Somewhere along the way, this bow doesn’t become just a bow, but a courting gift -- and that means it must be perfect. Because she is perfect. He finally settles on a simple recurve bow, short but powerful, made for tight spaces and quick draws, perfect for the flexible yew. After deciding on the type of bow, and sketching up the shape, he heads out into the woods to find arrows. He decides on pine, and harvests a good amount of straight, light shafts, then heads to where the animals are kept within Erebor to hunt down some fletching. A butcher has just slaughtered several turkeys, and it is simple enough for Kili to purchase the tail and wing feathers. “Making arrows, Your Highness?” The butcher guesses, spying the pine shafts strapped to Kili’s back. He nods.

“Aye. My quiver is running a bit low.”

“Ah, it happens. Glad to be of service to you, and fine feathers these are, too!”

“The finest,” Kili grins, admiring the barred black and white feathers. “I wouldn’t go for anything less. Say, next time you butcher an ox, let me know, I am in need of a new bowstring.”

The butcher agrees readily, happy to be of service to the prince, and Kili leaves walking on air.

Back in his workshop, Kili drafts up several designs for arrowheads and the final curve he wants for the bow, and then gets to work. Although driven and determined, he knows he must work slowly and carefully, for woodworking is not his craft.

It takes him the better part of a month to make the bow. Then, he can move onto his other gift: courting beads. He's been thinking carefully about not only what material he wants to make them out of, but also what shape. When he finds a fist-sized fire opal while sorting through the treasury, he has the most perfect idea. Thankfully, jewelling is his craft.

Tauriel has taken up permanent residence in Dale, ending up as leader of the city's guard, and the ragtag but earnest group of former fishermen fall into line quickly under her stern command. The sun is just beginning to set and the evening autumn air is crisp and inviting when she returns home. As she nears her house, she sees a person standing on her doorstep, too short to be a man and too broad to be a child. "Kili?"

He turns, the golden light bathing his face, and his grin stuns her a bit with its wideness. "Hullo, amrâlimê !" He says, coming towards her. He takes her hand with all the grace of the prince he is and places a chaste kiss on the back of it.

"You are being silly," she informs him. He grins wider.

"Perhaps."

She huffs a little and brushes past him to enter her house, and he saunters in after her with all the airs of owning the place. "Why are you here, Kili?"

Although she pretends she isn't bothered by the fact that it has been nearly a month since she saw him last, truthfully, it is bothering her. Immensely.

“I’m here to ask if you’d like to go on a bit of a jaunt with me,” he replies. She turns and gapes at him.

“I’m sorry?”

“A picnic, to be precise. I’ve a basket all set up, some lovely dwarven wine… I’ve pulled out all the stops, Tauriel, you can hardly say no.”

She splutters a bit. “It's almost sundown!"

"It's not like you can't have picnics at night. C'mon, it'll be fun!"

It's not that she doesn't want to go, it's just that the whole thing is so sudden. "I… I’ve just come back from guard duty! I’m in my armor!”

“I am aware,” he replies blithely. “I can wait until you change into something more comfortable.” He glances at her appreciatively. “Or you can stay in that. I wouldn’t be bothered.”

Tauriel sighs. There’s really no getting out of this one (not that she especially wants to, anyway). “Give me a moment.”

Kili sits down at her kitchen table. “Take your time, amrâlimê.”

Tauriel hurries up the stairs and into her bedroom, setting aside her bow (her third, the other two having snapped from her elvish strength) and arrows, and casting off her armor with hands that are almost trembling with excitement. She throws open her wardrobe doors… and stops. What does one wear on a nighttime picnic? A dress? She hardly has anything suitable, mostly trousers and tunics populate her wardrobe. She spends a bit wavering between clothes before deciding on something simple. It’s not like they’re courting or anything.

She retrieves her cloak and hurries back out to Kili, who greets her with a grin when he sees her.

“Ready?” he asks, and she nods.

They ride out to the eastern shores of Long Lake, Tauriel on her horse Aearon, and Kili on his sturdy pony, Granite. The water is glassy smooth before them as they stop their mounts at the last bit of grass and dismount. Kili hands Granite's reins to Tauriel and begins unbuckling his saddle bag, maneuvering his body between his mount and her as if he's trying to hide something.

"Go find a good spot on the sand," he says, "and start a fire." He hands her a tinderbox and takes back the reins. "I'll bring the food and rub down the ponies."

She doesn't bother to tell him Aearon is hardly a pony, just takes the tinderbox and heads toward the shore, kicking her boots off at the edge and heading barefoot on to the cool sand. Kili looks after her, admiring the way the sunlight turns her hair to flame. Granite nudges his arm, drawing him back to reality, and he scratches her forehead, sliding off her bridle. “Sorry, girl. I got distracted.” His pony ruffles her mane and ducks her head to snatch up a few mouthfuls of grass. “D’you think she’ll like it?” he asks her. She ignores him.

Aearon, however, peers at him out of one eye, rather like he thinks Kili is entirely ridiculous. Kili stares right back, raising an eyebrow challengingly, and gets back to untacking them both. He sets the saddles near a tree and hoists his saddlebags to his shoulder, making sure the gift is well hidden.

Tauriel is waiting for him on the sand, next to a small but slowly growing fire and a pile of driftwood. Kili drops the saddlebags and pulls out a blanket. "Help me spread this out, won't you?"

She moves to help him. “Is there a reason you dragged me all the way out here?” She asks.

“I told you,” he replies, kicking his boots off at the edge of the blanket and sitting down on the soft wool. “A picnic.” He pats the space next to him with a smile of invitation and drags one of the saddle bags towards him.

She sits gracefully, wiggling her bare toes under the sand. At first, their conversation is a little stilted, but as time passes, the tension eases.

“Isn’t that cold?” he asks with a laugh, unpacking food and setting up a spit over the fire. She shrugs.

“A little. I like the way it feels.”

Kili laughs again and she smiles at him.

“Are you doing the cooking?” She asks.

“Aye, unless you’d like to help.”

“I can’t,” she says. He stares at her, midway through spitting the chicken he brought, already pre seasoned.

“What?”

“I can’t cook.”

“What do you mean you can’t cook?”

“Well, I’ve never really had to. Back in Mirkwood, my meals would be prepared for me. For all of the guard, actually.”

Kili balances the chicken on the spit. “Well, what did you do when you couldn’t get back in time for meals? Or when you were on a trip? Or when you were gone these past few years? Did you just not eat?”

“Of course I ate!” She replies. “I’d eat lembas!”

He gives her a quizzical look. “Lembath?”

“Lembas,” she laughs. “Elvish waybread. It lasts for ages and even one bite can fill your stomach. It’s the perfect travel food. I had a supply with me when I left Mirkwood, and it kept until I left Erebor. I restocked in Rivendell, and again in Lothlorien.”

“Oh. I see.” He looks into the flames for a moment, then says, “Tell me of your travels, Tauriel.”

She peers over at him, at the firelight bathing his face in the after sundown, before moonrise darkness, and frowns. She would think he wouldn’t want to hear of it, of how she abandoned him, but… she nods slowly and begins her tale. Kili listens closely as he tends to the food cooking. Whenever he looks up to watch her, he is enchanted by her bright eyes and dancing hands. There’s something different about her, he realizes. He hadn’t noticed it until tonight. When she had first come back he hadn’t been able to think about anything but how happy he was to see her again, and in the past month he’d been too preoccupied with his gift to notice.

“Tauriel,” he starts, interrupting her story. She pauses midway through telling him about the plains of Rohan and looks down at him expectantly.

“Yes?”

“Why did you leave?”

She bites her bottom lip.

“Was it because of me?”

“No! Oh, Kili, no!” She crawls over and takes his hand, squeezing it comfortingly. “It was nothing you did! I just… I needed to figure something out.”

He looks down at their joined hands and then up into her green eyes. “What did you need to figure out?”

“I wanted to find out who I was outside of what I’ve always known. I’ve always been Tauriel, Captain of the Mirkwood Guard… But, Mirkwood isn’t my home anymore. That’s not who I am anymore. I needed to find out who Just Tauriel was, outside of duty.”

“Did you find out?” he asks gently.

“I believe so.”

“You seem different.”

Concern flits over her face. “Different? A bad different or a good different?”

“Good different. Definitely good different. You seem… I don’t know, more at peace with yourself.” He slips his fingers through hers. “I like it.”

“I’m glad,” she whispers.

“If that’s why you left,” he asks, “why did you come back? I would think living here on the edge of the forest would be painful.”

She looks down at him with a smile. “I guess I didn’t realize how much I would miss you.”

“I did,” He replies. “I missed you so badly I dreamed of you at night.”

She blinks at him, and then her cheeks flush pink. “I… I…”

“Tauriel? Is something wrong?”

“It’s just… I dreamed of you, too.”

“Nightmares of me dying?” He asks cynically. She nods, and he sighs. “Thought so.”

“Not all of them though,” She murmurs, looking away from him. “Many of them were pleasant. I mean… oh my, look at the moon!”

Kili looks over the horizon to see the moon rising over the lake, huge and red. A firemoon. Tauriel stands and walks to the edge of the water, gazing up at it with wide eyes. Kili watches her, framed by the moon, her hair cascading down her back in a stream of molten gold. This is as good a time as ever.

“Tauriel.”

She looks down to see Kili standing at her side, something behind his back. “Isn’t it lovely?” She says, gesturing to the moon.

“It is. Almost as lovely as you.”

A blush once again flares over her cheeks, visible even in the dark. “You flatter me.”

“I mean it,” He says sincerely. “I know I’ve been rather absent the past month, but the truth is, I’ve been working on something. For you.” From behind his back, he takes whatever he had been hiding and holds it out to her. Whatever it is, it is wrapped in a cloth, which she carefully peels back to reveal the most beautiful bow, quiver, and set of arrows she has ever seen.

“Oh my…”

“Do you like it?”

“It’s beautiful.”

He hands it to her. “Try it out. See how it feels.”

She takes it almost hesitantly, stringing it with the bowstring he provides, and carefully nocks an arrow. It bends with ease, but there is no hint of any possible breakage. She aims at a tree several paces away and releases. The arrow flies true into its target. Tauriel lowers the bow, unable to keep the grin off her face, and admires the green leather grips and the silver inlays, the iron tipped arrows, the barred fletching… it’s designed and made with love and care.

"This is a lovely bow," she says. He beams at her. "But, Kili, you must know, I can't keep this! You worked so hard on it!"

His smile doesn't fall. "I don't think you're understanding, amrâlimê," he says. "I made it for you. It's a courting gift."

"A cour…" she stares at him, eyes wide. "Are you serious?"

"Of course I'm serious! Why wouldn't I be serious?"

"W-well, I don't know, I… I just… oh my stars!"

Kili takes her hand. "That's not the only thing I have for you." Gently, he turns her hand over and opens her fingers, placing a small silken bag on her palm. "I wanted to make this official. These are for you. Well, us. They're courting beads."

He lets go of her hand and steps back, looking at her expectantly. Tauriel hesitates for a moment. Dwarven courting is completely alien to her. Finally, she sets down the bow and sits down on the sand, patting the space beside her. Kili sits down eagerly and grins at her, nodding a little. "Go ahead! Open it! I actually got to use my Craft for this gift."

Tauriel smiles at his eagerness and carefully opens the pouch, emptying the contents into her palm. It's a pair of beads, just as Kili said, made out of some strange shimmering jewel, shot through with all sorts of colors: blue and orange and green and red and purple, and carved in the shape of a crescent moon. Tauriel can't stop the gasp that escapes her.

"Oh, Kili," she breathes.

He scoots closer to her and reaches over her arm, lifting one of the beads. It shimmers in the moonlight. "We call these fire opals. They're notoriously hard to work with. But the colors… they…"

"They're stunning," she says earnestly.

"They're supposed to represent the fire moon," he murmurs, looking up at her, the red moon reflecting in his dark eyes, in a way that makes him so beautiful that her breath catches in her throat. "Back in Mirkwood, I promised I'd show you a fire moon someday, did I not?"

"You did," she breathes. "You have. Three times over." She means not only the moon above them, but the two tiny ones nestled in her palm. He smiles up at her.

“So, do you accept my suit?”

She wavers for a moment, unsure, self doubt creeping in. Not only is he a prince, he is a dwarf, and there is a very, very good chance their love is doomed. But then she sees his hopeful face and bright eyes, and the fear evaporates like dew on a summer morning. "I do," she murmurs.

Kili beams so wide it's blinding. "Then may I braid your hair?" She bends slightly so her hair pools in his lap.

"You may."

The braid he weaves is beautiful, the beads glimmering at the end of it. She’s distracted from admiring it when he cups her face in his hand and draws her face down near his. “May I kiss you?” he asks softly. She nods, sliding her hand behind his head and drawing his face close to hers.

“This won’t be easy,” he whispers when they part. “Tensions in the Mountain are still high. Very few will accept this, and even less will be happy for us.”

“I know,” she says. “But I’m willing to fight for us.”

“So no more running?”

“No more running.”

She presses her forehead to his. “Kili, there’s one thing I never understood. Why did you never come after me?”

“I thought about it,” he admits, “especially on nights when resisting the goldsickness got too much, or when the pressure of my duties felt like it was crushing me, I would be just minutes away from packing up and running after you.”

“Why didn’t you?”

He shrugs. “Because every time I almost did, I’d dream of you that night. That would help. It was like you were still with me. And besides, I couldn’t leave my brother, he had it worse.”

“You’re a good brother.” She touches his cheek and kisses him again. “I admire that about you.”

“You do?”

“I do.” She smiles. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“I have no idea, I am very admirable, after all.”

Tauriel laughs and shoves him so he flops backward. “Don’t be cocky, Kili.”

He grabs her arm and pulls her with him, wrapping her in his arms and kissing her tenderly. “But you love me anyway.”

“I do,” she says, and kisses him back.

#kiliel #kiliel week #kilielweek #kiliel week 2021 #kilielweek2021 #kili #tauriel #the hobbit #fanfic #my writing #the hobbit fanfic

34 notes · View notes

ella-se-vuelve-loca · 5 years

Text

Last One, I Swear! | Erick Brian Colón

Sooo I noticed I haven’t done any stories for Erick yet lol for now, the stories I write for him won’t have any of that dirty stuff y’all like lmaooo sorry x

Warnings: None lol just pure fluff

Masterlist

Wanna be tagged for future fics?

“Alright, one more!” Erick yelled as he lost another game of Mario Kart, again. “C’mon, I’ve - I’ve got it this time. I can feel it.” He went to start another match, but I stopped him. “Erick, let’s just turn off the game.” I said. “No, I refuse to accept defeat.” He got comfortable on the floor and had a frown sketched on his face. “Estas bien, mi amor?” I asked him. “No, it’s fine. It’s - it’s all good. Everything’s great.” Yeah, that wasn’t sarcastic at all. I looked at the time and realized how late it was. Yikes! The boys have to wake up early tomorrow for an interview. We were in his hotel room playing video games and ordered in some food to eat. We didn’t realize how late it was getting. “Erick, mira.” I showed him the time on my phone.

“I just.. oh.. ya son las 2:25 de la mañana?” He realized. I nodded and his head dropped. “We should head to sleep. I don’t want you to be grumpy when I come back to wake you up.” He sighed and slowly started to get up. “Yeah, I guess we do have to wake up early tomorrow..” I kept a smile on my face as I thought about how much Erick gets involved in this game and can never beat me. What can I say? I’m pretty damn good at it.

“Okay, fine let’s go to… porqué estas sonriendo asi?” I just shook my head and stood up. “Nothing, why?” I asked him and chuckled. I went to go and grab my hotel key card. “Crees que no puedo hacerlo, ¿verdad?” He accused and I just laughed, not being able to hold it in. “How dare you.” He had a small smile on his face. “It’s not my fault you keep losing. You’re just not that good as I am.” I flipped my hair and laughed. “Alright, grab your controller. We’re doing this right now.” I raised an eyebrow and looked at the time once again. “Are you sure you want to do this? I don’t wanna hear you complain that you didn’t win against me again.” I laughed. “No, don’t give me that. I’ll show you that I can win at least one race.” He looked determined. Then again, so did the other times.

“C’mon mi amor, just one more. I’ll prove myself! I know you’re tired y quiero ir a dormir, but this is it. I promise.” I looked at him and his eyes bore into my own. I know I shouldn’t, but I can’t say no to him. I mean, have you seen his eyes? They’re way to pretty to say no to. “Okay, fine. Let’s do it.” I grabbed my controller and sat back down next to him. He went to look for a new map to start the race. “How about a little wager? To keep things interesting.” He suggested and raised his eyebrow. I sat up and smiled. “Oh, you like that sound of that, don’t you? Alright, loser has to.. eat a tablespoon of coffee.” I just scoffed. “Is that it?”

“What do you mean that’s it? It’s a pretty fair bet, if you ask me.” Erick defended himself. I just sat there next to him thinking about my options. I could just go to my room and sleep, like we’re supposed to be doing right at this moment. Or, I could just beat him and call it a night. Decisions, decisions. “Princesa, por favor. I just wanna play.” Erick whined. “Okay okay! I’ll play.” I said as he clicked on to start the race. I leaned in and gave him a quick kiss. “Good luck.” I smiled and looked at the screen, getting ready to start. “You’re smiling now, just wait until I win this game. Let’s do this.” The intro to the track started and we both got ready.

“I’m ready. Are you ready to eat my dust? I’ll be so fast, Sonic can’t keep up with my speeds. I’ll be sorry to even - .. oh shit.” By the time Erick looked back at the screen, the race was literally 3 seconds away from starting. “You should’ve been paying attention.” I comment. “Yeah, whatever. Shut up.” And we were off. I noticed him behind already as the rest of the racers passed him up. “You know you need to - ”

“Yes, I know I need to accelerate at the start.“ He frowned. “I can see someone is not enjoying this round as much.” I laughed.

“Well, you were distracting me!”

“No I was not!”

“You did too!”

This is so childish. I love moments like this with him though. “Alright, focus. You’re trying to psych me out right now, aren’t you? Well, it’s not gonna - don’t laugh at me like that.” He laughed. I can’t hold it in! This is too funny! “I’m sorry, babe. I told you this would happen.” He leaned in closer to the tv as I continued to win this race. “Okay, you asked for it now.”

A few seconds of silence filled the air between us, until I heard him mumble. “Where did everyone go?” I could see his body moving side to side as he made turns. “Are you in last place?” I asked him, smiling. “No! I’m just.. trailing behind, that’s all. It’s all part of the technique.” Okay… now I’m starting to feel bad. I mean, sure it’s fun to beat him and win, but he seriously hasn’t won a single game against me and it’s starting to become sad. Hmm… maybe just this once.

“Yes, when I.. oh! Oh yeah! I’m coming for you now, mi amor.” I quickly looked over to his side of the screen and noticed that he got a golden mushroom. “See, look at that. Look at that! I told you, all part of the - ”

“Oh please! That mushroom must have felt bad and gave pity on you.” I joked.

“No, it wasn’t a pity mushroom!” He chuckled. Alright, time to slow down my movements. I started going a little more slower, not that he would notice, so he could catch up to me. “You’re laughing now nena, pero no vengas a llorar cuando pierdas.” I glanced at the map to see where each player is and noticed him coming close. Now I just gotta not pass him up. “Yes! C’mon, Mario keep going!” Did I forget to mention that he picked baby Mario as his character?

“Finally! 1st place!” He quickly passed me and I stayed behind. “No!” I joked along. He deserves a win anyways. He looks so excited. “Ay Díos mio it’s right there! I believe in you - “ He gasped and moved his body to the right. Peach was trying to pass him up and he wasn’t having it. “No. no, don’t you dare! Go go go!” He continued to try and block her so she won’t pass him up. “How am I in 8th place?” I asked out loud, just now realizing that I haven’t really been paying attention to my side of the screen because I couldn’t stop staring at Erick’s reaction to finally being in first.

I could easily pass him up with the 3 mushrooms I just got, but I can’t do that to him right now. He’s probably dreamed about this moment of beating me. I don’t wanna take that away from him right now.

“Aww 8th place, is that right? It is over! It is over (Y/N)! Forget it! Don’t say I didn’t warn you!” He’s almost there! Just a few more seconds… oh my God.. he actually did it. Erick got first place!

“I finally did it! I finally beat you!” He cheered. I just chuckled and continued on racing. “Aww you’re still racing. Oh, it’s alright! You just go as fast as you can, okay?” He teased until I made it passed the finish line. “Hey, there you go! Look at you! You finished the race.” He smiled as he looked at the screen as his character received the trophy. “Oh, look at that. Baby Mario takes home the gold.” I raised an eyebrow and chuckled. “Are you happy?” I asked him.

“Well, of course I’m happy now, are you kidding me?” He started gloating in my face and I couldn’t help but feel happy for him. “Are you done?” I laughed and he shook his head. “No, I’m not quite done yet. First I have to..” He stood up and starting dancing all over his room. “Do my victory dance!” He jumped up and down, waved his hands in the air and did any silly dance he could think of on the spot.

“I believe that a certain someone has to eat a teaspoon of coffee because that was part of the deal.” He said as he went to sit back down next to me. I rolled my eyes and went to get up, but he grabbed my hand. I looked at him in confusion. “Wait wait wait… not yet. Real quick, let’s watch the playback.” Oh this little fucker. “Why?”

“Why? So I can rewatch my victory over and over again, of course!” He quickly pressed replay and the video started. “See? Technique. What did I tell.. oh yeah, beautiful. Did you see that comeback? I went from 12th to 3rd just like that.” He snapped his fingers. “I have to admit, good job on your part princesa. Good job.”

“Hey, this is only your first win. I’ve won so much more than you.” I chuckled. “Alright, let’s not forget who won here, okay? Let’s not lose sight of the big picture here.” He smiled and continued watching the playback. “Oh amor, that’s brutal. They just kept coming at you, huh?” Other characters keep hitting me with shells, so that’s how I ended up in 8th. “Yes! Look at that.” Baby Mario was about to pass my character up. “Admit it. There was no chance you could have.. ” He stopped, now realizing that I 3 mushrooms and I didn’t bother to use them.

“Amor? Is that a.. wait a minute. You could’ve totally used it by..” Realization now dawning on his face as he looked at me. “Nena?” I didn’t meet his eyes and I started to back away from him. A laugh wanting to escape my mouth. “No no no, mirame. Look me in the eye and tell - don’t cover your mouth like that! No, ven aquí.” He held onto my shoulders and tried to hold me against him.

“Don’t back away from me like that, tell me the truth!” He turned my face so I could look at him. “Did you.. let me..” I cut him off with a quick kiss, catching him off guard and pulled myself away from him laughing. I ran to go grab my hotel key card and towards the door.

“Hey, come back here! Oh, you’re gonna get it!” He laughed chasing after me.

Hey! It’s the end of the story! Lmao I hope y’all enjoyed! If you liked it, please make sure to send some love to my writing! Comment, reblog, and or like please! I love reading what you have to say!

#cnco imagines #erick brian colon imagine #I HOPE I DELIEVERED #I HOPE THIS ISNT SHIT LMAOOOO #I TRIED TO WRITE SOME MORE FLUFF FOR Y'ALL LMAO #he's so competitive lmaooo #erick brian colon

116 notes · View notes

zoemurph · 7 years

Text

to have a friend, chapter four: $80

on ao3 1 | 2 | 3

fun fact i actually finished this like.....tuesday at 4 am cause i died for a bit between like 10-1 and then couldnt sleep. i have edited it since then tho so i promise its not too much of a disaster!

warnings: implied past self harm, discussions of mental health, depression/depressive episodes, some suicidal thoughts. let me know if anything else needs to be tagged

enjoy!

From: Evan To: Connor Just go t home Hope things ar eok with yoru family

Connor stares at the texts for a few moments before he falls back onto his bed.

Who knows how his family is.

Actually, he knows. A fucking mess. That’s what his family is.

He can hear Zoe practicing in the room next to him, forgoing headphones and using her amp because she wants to piss him off more. Larry had slunk back to his office, and Connor was sure he did as soon as the opportunity presented itself. His mom is in the kitchen, probably aggressively cleaning dishes like a sparkling plate will fix her shattered family.

Connor stares at the ceiling.

Why did he think he could do any of this?

He lifts his phone and looks at the screen again. Evan is trying. Which is just ridiculous. Evan is trying with this family. What the fuck.

From: Connor To: Evan cool they never are but thanks i guess

He tosses his phone to the side and debates doing homework. There’s not really much of a debate — he’s not going to do it — but the fact that he considered it is probably worth something.

It’s not that late yet, which is frustrating. He wants to go to bed, but he’s also too high strung for that. Usually he’d be exhausted but—

Connor studies his ceiling.

He’d been angry. So angry. Burning and explosive. He had been on the edge of his rope and about to break— and then he’d been doused in a shock of cold water. He’d been standing outside the bathroom, insides blistering and turning to ash, and then he’d heard Evan’s unnatural breathing and all of that had just stopped. The fire was gone and he was left with only mild panic that made his mouth taste like metal and an icy chill of not knowing what to do or how to help.

Somehow, sitting on the floor of him and Zoe’s painfully childish bathroom with Evan had been the most real part of the night. It felt the most solid, most tangible. Handing Evan one of those silly cups his mom kept buying, their fingers brushing as Evan took it with shaking hands, that was the most grounded he had felt in days.

Fucking weird.

There’s a knock on his doorframe.

Connor sits up to see Cynthia standing there. “Oh. Hi.”

She smiles, sadly because that’s the only way she smiles nowadays, and takes a step into his room. “Did Evan leave?”

“Uh…yeah. It’s not like he could hide in my closet or anything.” They both look toward the disaster that is Connor’s closet. The doors won’t shut and clothes are piled up on the floor. There was a time where Connor liked things to be neat and orderly. Now he doesn’t have the energy. “He wasn’t feeling great.”

She makes a concerned noise.

“He, uh, gets sick really easily. He’ll probably be fine tomorrow.” Connor curses in his head. Better jot that down so he can tell Evan that Cynthia now thinks that his immune system is shitty. Because she’s probably going to shove all sorts of vitamins and health drinks at him the next time she sees him. If there’s a next time.

God there better not be a next time.

Cynthia sighs. “I’m sorry about tonight, sweetie.”

Connor shrugs and swings his legs off the side of the bed. “It’s not like it was going to be any different than usual.”

The expression on her face is so pained that Connor has to look away. He can’t even be mad at her. He’s pissed at Zoe for her snippy comments. He’s mad at Larry because he’s always mad at Larry. He’s upset with his mom— the most he can be upset with her for is for not trying harder to stop things from getting out of hand. But when has she ever been able to stop it once it started?

Mostly Connor is just mad at himself.

The only reason Evan was here was because he gets paid twenty dollars a week. It’s not like he has any other obligation to be here. Or to hang around Connor. If there was ever a chance that Evan would actually like Connor, that just went out the fucking window.

“Are you hungry?” Cynthia asks, softly. Not as forced as usual. Not as pressing. “You didn’t eat much.”

“I’m fine,” Connor mutters. He tugs off his sweatshirt and throws it on his desk chair. He tries not to notice her eyes going to his arms and then flicking away. “I’ll grab something if I can’t sleep.”

She sighs again. She does that a lot. Sighing. “Okay. Okay, just…” She steps forward and brushes hair away from Connor’s eyes. “Apologize to Evan for us, okay?”

“Why?” Connor asks bitterly. “Because we can be better?”

Cynthia doesn’t say anything. She just stands on her toes and presses a kiss to Connor’s cheek. “Sleep well, honey.”

Connor stands in the center of his room after she leaves. He hates not having a door. It’s like his entire life is out in the open for his entire family to see and judge. Which is some bullshit.

He looks around his room, open and exposed, and thinks that he should clean. Or something. He’s living in a dump.

Connor picks up a sweatshirt and stuffs a few books onto an overflowing bookshelf. Under papers from junior year that he just needs to throw out when he gets the chance, he finds a watercolor sketchbook.

He pauses with four old plastic water bottles in arm to flip through the sketchbook. It’s old as hell, he doesn’t even remember the last time he used watercolors. Or did any art that wasn’t just shitty sketches in his notebook when he didn’t feel like paying attention.

He looks over his shoulder at the light in the hallway.

Connor isn’t entirely sure where his watercolors are. Probably somewhere under the trash and clothing covering his floor. He looks from the watercolor sketchbook to his bed.

He dumps the water bottles in the space between his wall and his bed and starts digging. It takes him almost twenty five minutes to find his watercolor palette. It’s old and dusty, the red is cracked and the purple is almost gone because he always really liked using purple for some reason, but it’s usable.

It takes him a little longer to find brushes. He’s definitely missing some, but fuck it, he never actually knew what the different brushes were for. He just used whatever ones he felt like.

He washes out an old mug that was on his desk from god knows when in the bathroom and fills it with clean water, grabbing a roll of paper towels from the hallway closet. Then he pushes the clothes on his floor into a pile against the wall so he can sit on the floor, because there is no way in hell that he’s cleaning off his desk for this. He fishes his earbuds out of his backpack and plugs them into his phone, turning on some random music that he’ll let fade to into background noise and pulls his hair up into a really messy ponytail.

Connor can’t remember the last time he actually paid attention to art. He doodles a sketch that’s kind of messy but fine enough because it’s not like anyone is going to see this and then just goes for it. He doesn’t exactly remember how to do this, but he’s never been one for doing things the right way. There’s a reason he stopped taking art classes after freshman year. There’s something weirdly calming about the way the water spreads on the page and something familiar in the brushstrokes. Even when he fucks up and uses way too much water and he knows that the paper is going to be wavy and warped.

He puts down the paintbrush to skip a song on his phone. He has another text from Evan.

From: Evan To: Connor Im sorr y YOu should nt feel that way abou tyour family

Connor rolls his eyes. Evan really does try.

From: Connor To: Evan its whatever, im used to it mom says sorry about tonight. shes embarrassed but seriously dont worry about it

He skips through the songs until he finds one that feels right, slower and almost more gentle, he really needs to pick up better watercolors because he’s going to need that purple, before putting his phone back down on the floor next to him.

All things considered, this isn’t the worst piece Connor’s ever done. He studies it as he takes a sip from his mug.

He yanks the mug away from his mouth, gagging. He rubs his mouth with a grimace.

That was paint water.

Connor doesn’t really leave his room much over the next two days. He eats because his mom wants him to, he doesn’t talk to Zoe, and he argues with Larry and wishes he had a door to slam.

Then he sits on his floor and fills pages and pages of his sketchbook with shitty watercolor paintings.

He splashes colors across the pages, sometimes not even trying to create a coherent image. He just needs something to do.

He’s almost out of purple.

Connor waits by Evan’s locker Monday morning, folding and unfolding the twenty dollar bill in his pocket. Zoe needed to be early today for some band thing, so that means Connor is early which just sucks.

This school seriously needs a color palette that isn’t drab and depressing. Connor wears almost exclusively black, but fuck, tone down the gray.

“Oh! Hey, you’re…already here.”

Connor looks up from his phone. “Zoe,” he says. “Band shit. Fuck if I know.”

Evan nods slowly and then reaches for his lock.

“Wait.” Connor grabs Evan’s wrist.

Evan freezes, wide eyes darting to Connor. “W-what?”

Connor leans a little closer. “We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” he whispers. Evan furrows his eyebrows. “My family is the fucking worst, you shouldn’t have to deal with that shit.”

“I-it’s fine!” Evan stutters. “I don’t— no this is. This is okay.” He slowly pulls his arm out of Connor’s grip.

Connor clenches his jaw and leans against the next locker. Evan doesn’t say anything as he opens his locker and starts taking out books. An unfairly loud part of Connor’s brain wonders if Evan is only doing this because he’s scared.

It’s not that far fetched.

“B-besides,” Evan adds, “Jared is— he’s already asking too many questions and if we just stopped now—”

Connor frowns. “He is?”

Evan gives him an exasperated look. “He hasn’t texted me about non homework things in forever and he’s just been sending me ‘is it a sex thing’ for a week.”

“Wow I hate him,” Connor says before he can stop himself.

Evan laughs in surprise.

“He’s a douche!”

Evan ducks his head. “He’s not the worst person ever, b-but he can be…himself.”

“And that’s pretty bad,” Connor mutters.

Evan pauses and then closes his locker. “Do— are you still okay with…with telling him?”

Connor shrugs. “Sounds like we have no choice.”

Evan tugs on the hem of his shirt. “Are you…free today?”

“I literally have no life or friends, Hansen,” Connor reminds him. “I’m always free.”

“Okay, right, okay.” Evan takes a short breath. “Can we— today?”

Connor stuffs his hands in his pockets. He hasn’t gotten harassed by Kleinman about this yet, but if they wait, the chances of that happening increase significantly. And if it’ll get Jared off Evan’s back— “Yeah sure. Where?”

“My place?” Evan asks. Connor pulls open the door to the stairwell. “I-if that works?”

“Sure thing.” Connor’s voice echoes uncomfortably loud for this conversation. “Better than being at home anyway.”

Evan glances back over his shoulder at Connor. “Are things…bad?” He says it slowly, like he’s not sure what word to choose.

“They’ve been worse,” Connor admits. “But it’s not a party.”

Evan stops at the stairs where Connor has to keep going down to get to chorus. “I’ll— I’ll text you? About the time?”

Connor nods. “Sounds good, Hansen. See you then.” He steps forward and hands Evan the twenty that has been floating around in his pocket for too long. “Forgot to pay you back for food last week,” he says when Evan’s eyes dart toward people walking past.

Evan gives him a half smile and takes the bill. “I-I told you it was fine. I can pay sometimes.”

Connor shrugs and turns toward the stairs. “Too late.”

—«·»—

From: Evan To: Connor Im s o s rry just ignore him or block him he grabbed my phon e Serious ly blockign him mihgt be the best opti n

From: Connor To: Evan ??????

Connor probably shouldn’t be texting in class, but the class is astronomy and also when has Connor ever given a fuck. He stares at Evan’s messages, trying to decode them while he waits for the lunch bell.

It turns out he doesn’t have to wait that long to figure out what they mean.

From: (522) 101-5414 To: nerd, emo sup fuckers

Connor doesn’t even have to ask who it is, he just tries not to groan and texts Evan.

From: Connor To: Evan seriously??

From: Evan To: Connor Im sorry !!! Hes being a d ick Also does like 3 work?

Connor huffs and glances to the clock. That’ll give him about an hour to kill after school before he can show up at Evan’s. Whatever, he’ll figure something out.

From: Connor To: Evan thats fine tell kleinman if hes being a dick i will hurt him

Evan’s response is almost immediate.

From: Evan To: Connor I wouldnt blame you but ma y be dotn hurt the one pe rson whos gonna knw about us

Connor snorts and puts away his phone. He’ll do his best, but only because Evan asked.

—«·»—

Connor texts Evan as he walks up to the house. The door is open before he can even knock. Evan looks slightly panicked, but also somewhat relieved. Connor lowers his hand from where he was about to knock.

“He here?”

Evan nods and grabs Connor’s sleeve, tugging him inside.

Connor takes off his boots while Evan rambles on about Jared being in his room and talking about something, summer camp? Maybe? And then there’s a tangent about cars? Connor isn’t sure but he puts down his boots, straightens, and puts a hand on Evan’s shoulder. “Breathe,” he interrupts. “You’re going to pass out and you really don’t want to leave Kleinman and I alone together.”

Evan takes a slow breath. “Right. Right. He’s… Come on.”

He shows Connor up the stairs, gesturing vaguely to a bathroom as he moves toward his room. Connor didn’t really notice how small Evan’s house is the last time he was here, but now he feels too large in it, like he’s taking up too much space. But it’s also comforting in a weird way, less empty space for thoughts to echo.

Jared spins around in Evan’s desk chair when Evan opens the door. “Man of the hour!” Jared announces, opening his arms in Connor’s direction.

Connor flips him off.

“Okay, rude. I can work with rude.”

“Jared,” Evan says warningly.

“I know, I know.” Jared spins back and forth a little in the chair. For some reason, Connor thinks giving him a chair that turns may have been a bad idea. “If I’m an ass you won’t give me pizza.”

Connor scoffs. “You bribed him?”

Evan shrugs helplessly. “I just— can we not talk about this?”

“Yeah,” Jared agrees. “I was promised juicy deets on whatever the fuck this is.” He motions between Connor and Evan. “Cause uh,” he laughs, “guys, what the shit?”

“We aren’t friends,” Connor says flatly.

Evan twists the hem of his shirt in his hands.

“Yeah no shit, Sherlock.” Jared grabs the arms of the chair and leans forward. “Wait this is a sex thing, isn’t it! Evan you said—”

“It’s not a sex thing!” Evan shouts. “It’s a—” He looks to Connor with wide eyes. “A…fake friend…thing?”

“Excuse me?”

Connor explains before Evan can flounder any more. “I give Evan twenty bucks a week to pretend to be my friend.”

Jared stares at them.

Evan shifts uncomfortably next to Connor. Connor kind of wants to leave, but Evan wants to do this, so…

Jared snorts. “Are you fucking serious?”

Evan cringes. “Y-yes?”

“This is—”

“We know, Kleinman,” Connor snaps. “But we need your help.”

Evan looks at Connor in surprise. ‘We do?’ he mouths to Connor. Connor nods. Spur of the moment thought, but he literally can’t keep dealing with Zoe bugging him about Evan. Who gives a shit if they never hung out together around school, even if that is a lie. He needs some sort of proof so she shuts up.

Jared spins slowly in his chair. “How so?”

“Evan said we emailed each other,” Connor says. “But my dad checks my email. So this email account would have to be ‘secret’.”

Jared raises his eyebrows. “That’s—”

“We know, Jared!” Evan interrupts. “C-can you just—” He glances toward Connor. “We need…emails from over the summer?” Connor nods. “Can you just, like, show me how to fake the timestamps o-or something?”

“Oh yeah, that’s super easy,” Jared says. He leans down and unzips the backpack leaning against the desk and pulls out a laptop. He opens the laptop and types something out. “Secret email account is very—”

Connor grits his teeth. “Just do it, Kleinman.”

“Yeah, yeah. Watch the monkey dance,” Jared mutters to himself. “That’s super fun.” He pauses. “If Evan gets twenty bucks a week for this, what do I get?”

“The gift of life.”

Evan shoots Connor a look.

“Awesome.” Jared types for another moment. “You know,” he says, “twenty bucks seems pretty cheap.”

“Are you trying to be difficult?” Connor grumbles.

“Always.”

“I-it’s fine,” Evan stutters. “Re-really, Jared?”

“I’m just saying,” Jared says with a shrug. “You should totally charge more for more complicated stuff. Twenty for faking friendship, forty for hanging out, sixty for being around the family.”

“What?!”

Connor glances to Evan out of the corner of his eye. Evan is protesting, but it’s not the worst idea. Especially after the dinner that Evan suffered through. Connor is going to have to ‘borrow’ more money from his parents’ wallets, but hey, at least it’s not for weed.

“I really fucking hate that I’m saying this,” Jared and Evan look over to Connor, “but that’s not a terrible plan.”

Jared smirks. “Nice.”

Evan gapes. “W-what?”

“If you spend a few hours dealing with my shitty family, that probably is worth more than saying hi to me in the hallway.” Connor crosses his arms. “I should probably pay you more when you have to deal with more bullshit.”

“N-no, that isn’t— you don’t have to—”

“Let him give you money, Evan.” Jared types rapidly on his laptop. “I’m making you two up a fucking price chart for reference.”

“Jared—”

“One condition,” Connor says. “If we’re doing this it’s only ten dollars a week, if that’s okay,” he directs the last part to Evan. “I’m not a goddamn millionaire.”

“Annoying but valid,” Jared says. “The weekly flat rate is ten dollars then, nonnegotiable.”

Evan sinks down into the other chair that someone had pulled up to the desk.

“I think the first step up is hanging out outside of school.” Jared glances to Connor.

Connor nods. “Three for outside, five for my house.”

“Do I get a say in this?” Evan asks weakly.

“Nope,” Jared says, popping the ‘p’. “If hanging out involves the fam, I say it’s an instant five more.”

“How about two added on to the location fee,” Connor argues.

Jared scoffs. “That’s three dollars, man.”

“Try to remember we’re high schoolers,” Connor says flatly.

Evan wimpers.

Jared pats Evan’s arm. “Okay. Extended family is another three. No arguing that one, extended family is bullshit. Twenty bucks flat for a sleepover. Like on top of the weekly ten.”

Evan’s eyes go wide. “What?! No!”

Jared looks to Connor.

Connor shrugs. “Fine.” He doesn’t think that will be relevant but whatever. If it gets written down it’s not the end of the world.

Jared smiles to himself and starts to type quickly.

“W-what are you doing?” Evan asks, leaning closer to try and get a look at the screen.

Jared elbows Evan away. “Shh I’m working.”

Connor raises his eyebrows.

“Aaaaaand…done.” Jared spins his laptop to show Connor.

Connor squints at the list Jared has made on the document.

This is the Worst Plan I’ve Ever Heard But Have Fun You Friendless Losers created by Jared Kleinman

$10 — weekly flat rate no matter what

—

Casual Shit:

$3 — hanging out outside of school $5 — hanging out at the Murphys’ (+$2 to location fee if it involves other Murphys) (+$3 more if it involves any extended family) $20 — sleepover

—

Romance Shit:

$25 — date $5 — hug $15 — kiss $200 — Full Boyfriend Package™

(FFBP™ decreases all things in this section by $10, except for dates, which drop to $20. No, you do not get paid for hugs, hugs are just free now. Congrats, you just paid two hundred fucking dollars for a free hug)

Connor rolls his eyes. “You’re fucking hilarious,” he deadpans.

Evan pales as he reads it once Jared has turned the screen toward him. “Uh…”

Jared snorts. “It’s called a joke, dude. Learn to take it.”

“J-just delete it,” Evan stammers. “That’s not— we were supposed to make emails.”

“Okay.” Jared highlights the romance section and deletes it. “It’s gone.”

Evan sighs. “Thank you.”

Jared does a keyboard shortcut. “And it’s back!”

“Jared!”

“Gone! And back!”

Evan’s ears turn pink. “S-seriously?”

Jared just wiggles his eyebrows and deletes it again. When he starts to hit undo, Connor leans forward and grabs the laptop out of his hands.

“Dude!”

“We aren’t fucking five,” Connor says. “Can you help us with these emails before my sister tries to call a fucking private detective on me or are you just going to be a dickhead?”

“That’s no way to talk to someone who’s helping you out,” Jared says. But he holds out his hand for the laptop, and when Connor gives it back, he spins around, puts the laptop on the desk, and opens a new tab.

Him and Connor set up a new email account and then Jared has Evan open up his own email. As Jared sets up faked emails that Evan and Connor will fill with mindless shit, Connor looks around Evan’s room.

There’s a window with two small succulents sitting on its windowsill. There are pictures scattered around the room in mismatched frames, a lot of Evan and a woman he assumes is his mother, more than a few of Evan and Jared when they were younger but less and less as they get older until there’s none, and one small picture of Evan with a man that looks vaguely like him that sits on the corner of Evan’s desk, a stack of books obscuring it slightly.

Connor remembers Evan saying something about his dad and looks away.

Evan’s room is much smaller than Connor’s. It’s cozier and cleaner, but still untidy. The books in Evan’s shelves are piled up and tipping over, there are a few sweatshirts draped around the room, and there’s a terrifying looking pile of papers on his nightstand.

“Yo,” Jared says, holding out his laptop to Connor. “Work out what you want these to say with Evan so I can finish this. While you do that I’m going to find some snacks.”

“We’re out,” Evan answers almost immediately from where he’s bent over his laptop.

“I’m going out to buy snacks,” Jared corrects. “See you in a bit, losers.”

Connor stares at the blank form that Jared has pulled up on the screen. How many of these things is he going to have to do and is this going to turn into a school assignment?

“It’s probably easier if one of us starts,” Evan murmurs. “And then we just go back and forth and respond to whatever the other says.”

“Like actual emails.”

Evan rolls his eyes. “Yeah, just faster.”

“Sure. Let’s keep the things that can mark when this shit got sent to a minimum, okay?” Connor’s summer is a blur. He spent probably too much of it high and another big majority of it just doing nothing. Looking back at it, it all just blends together into a mess of shitty and shittier.

Evan nods. “Mhm. I’ll start if you want.”

“Go wild.”

As Evan types, Connor clicks through the other tabs Jared has open. One for the email account, a few google searches, a coding thing Connor doesn’t understand, and the price list. Jared put the romance section back.

Connor makes a note on the document that just says ‘youre a dick’ and clicks back to the dauntingly blank form.

An hour later, Evan has finished his sixth email, Connor is typing out a shitty response, and Jared has shown up with enough chips to feed a small nation. They figure out how to space the emails they’ve already written and Jared gets to work on finishing up the ones they’ve got written.

“Should we do the whole summer?” Evan asks.

Connor shrugs. “I don’t care, Zoe will probably buy it with one or two.”

Jared spins back and forth as he adds all the timestamps. “Someone order a pizza, I’m dying.”

Evan checks the time. “Jared it’s only—”

“Yeah? And?”

“You just ate like an entire bag of chips.”

Jared looks up at Evan. “When has that ever stopped me from eating an entire pizza?”

Evan shakes his head. “W-whatever. The usual?”

Jared shoots him a finger gun as he types with one hand.

“I’ll go with,” Connor says. He follows Evan down to the kitchen to see another twenty dollar bill in the center of the table. “Want me to call it in?” he asks.

Evan nods. “Jared always gets a supreme. If he doesn’t finish he just brings it home.”

Fair, Connor would do the same if he cared more about eating. He can only handle so much of his mom’s cooking. Connor places the call and then waits with Evan at the table. “Does your mom have you get takeout a lot?” he asks, looking at the bill.

Evan follows his gaze. “Uh… I-I mean…yeah. She works all day at the hospital, she’s a nurse, a-and then takes night classes at the college,” he gestures vaguely toward the street and Connor assumes he means the community college that people who are ambitious like Alana Beck go to to take summer classes so they look more impressive to admissions, “so…she doesn’t really have ti-time to cook and I’m— I’m not very good at it,” Evan mumbles. “I can do…ramen? Um…mac n cheese. Instant stuff. Other than that I can make like…pasta and grilled cheese and that’s…sort of it. But she doesn’t have a lot of time to go to the grocery store and I, uh, don’t like going so. Takeout is…easier.”

Connor nods. “I get that. You can’t go wrong with ramen noodles. One day we’ll both be living off them,” he jokes.

Evan looks to him in surprise. He smiles a little. “Y-yeah, I guess that’s true.”

Connor suddenly realizes that he talked about the future casually. About college casually, because he can remember one time when he was little and sick and Larry made ramen noodles for him and Connor had decided that they were the best thing ever and Larry had ruffled his hair and said that he’d get sick of them when they were all he ate in college. It’s uncomfortable. It settles wrong inside him. Because outside of the context of that one quip, the future doesn’t feel real. It feels like some untouchable abstract concept.

Thinking about it makes his stomach turn and makes dark thoughts creep in from the corners of his mind.

He shakes them away and listens to Evan talk about how he’s ruined soup before. It’s better than thinking about a future that hardly exists, one that he’s ready to cut the string on at almost any given moment in time.

Evan buries his face in his hands as he tells Connor about the time Jared tried to make eggs in the microwave and almost set fire to the house. Connor laughs and pretends he’s okay.

When the pizza arrives, Connor pays the delivery person while Evan goes and gets Jared. It’s too early for dinner, but Jared doesn’t care and eats two slices before going upstairs to grab his laptop and then eats another. Evan eats breadsticks and lets Jared carry most of the conversation, about half of which is about how weird Connor eats his pizza.

Evan makes Connor take a slice of pizza back, because he ends up missing dinner at home, and Connor just rolls his eyes and takes the plastic tupperware and promises to give it back at some point. Evan shakes his head and tells him not to, because they have too much and they can never find lids that match. Connor figures he’ll just slip it back into a cabinet the next time he comes over.

Next time. Connor doesn’t think in next times. Weird.

#connor murphy #evan hansen #jared kleinman #deh #deh fanfic #my fics #to have a friend #welcome to Hell

36 notes · View notes