#also also i have no idea what the skull is next to ur computer but it really adds to the vibe of this

[ajdrawshq]

do you like my jaws atari game screen saver? :3

also I still had music on when I booted it up so as the cutscene leading to the game over starts I hear "In my tale everyone is fated to always die"

SHJSHJDK THE GASP I JUST LET OUT.. omg yes i love ur screensaver. that is the best way to experience the game i think

[daydream-cement]

I have a one-shot idea for larissa (depends if the other person could be laurel or someone else) like a simple fluff fic about coffee dates at the weathervane or train rides together hehe

4 Train Rides and Coffee Dates I Said Nothing, And The 1 Time I Did

Characters: Larissa Weems x writer!reader

Synopsis: Kinda what the title says. Just fluffy. A bit of an AU, set in the past. Larissa is just beginning to work at Nevermore as a teacher. 

Authors Note: Sorry anon. You asked me to post this a while ago but the ideas were still banging around my skull. Also we are pretending the train goes to Jericho cause its my world and ur livin in it.

You had been taking the train to Jericho everyday for about 6 months now. You were working on your next big novel, well what you hoped would be your next big novel. Each day you would take the train and then go sit in your favorite coffee shop for a few hours to clack away on your keyboard. The train rides were marvelous, starting near the coast and ending through the woods. That’s where you found your inspiration. Well, that, and one other thing. Her. You didn’t know her name, but she was becoming the main heroine of your plotline. Tall and beautiful. She just sat down at your table on the train and never stopped coming back.

1. The First Time

You had your computer out in front of you, but you hadn’t written anything. Words alluded you this morning, but you weren't going to force it. You leaned your head back against the seat and began enjoying the forest passing by. From all the train rides before, you knew you were pulling into the Burlington station. 

Only one more stop to Jericho. You close your eyes and take a deep breath, trying to focus on the plot line of your story, but your focus broke when someone sat down at your table sitting kitty corner from you. You couldn’t help but glance to your new tablemate. 

You wondered if she might be a gorgon without the snakes. You might as well have been turned to stone because you couldn’t move once you looked at her. Could she be a Greek statue come to life? Was that a thing? Once she caught you staring, you shook yourself out of the trance, staring back down at your keyboard. Sneaking glances in which she would catch you every time, causing her to smile. 

The ride to Jericho wasn’t long enough.

She wasted no time getting off the train, but you did notice her take a last glance at you when she walked from the station. You smiled to yourself, hoping you had made an impression on her as well. 

At the Weathervane, the line was long once you reached the front and much to your pleasant surprise, the statuesque goddess came in. Before the barista rang you up, you leaned in close, “Hey, I want to pay for the woman who just walked in.”

The barista nodded as you pay a bit extra and tell them to keep anything leftover as a tip, “Don’t say anything though. I don’t want her knowing it was me.”

Finally you sat down, pulling out your laptop. You opened your tabs and documents, getting everything right before your name was called. You grab your coffee, sneaking a glance at the white-blonde haired woman who was already looking at you. 

You began writing, ignoring when she went up to order so she wouldn’t suspect you. She stood by your table as she waited for the coffee, not speaking to you or looking at you. You were busy typing out her description, Statuesque with ruby red lips. Her eyes held an intensity and you had to find out what was the passion behind them. Her legs-

“Larissa.” The barista called and the woman near you moved to get her coffee. So that was her name? Larissa.

2. The Second Time

Just like every other day, you sat looking out the window, imagining your new main character in a scene, but quickly it faded to your own personal daydream. She towered over her love interest, her hand coming up to rest on your cheek. You turned your head, pressing your lips to her palm. She smiled fondly down at you. You saw her leaning down, her eyes glancing at your lips.

Your focus was broken when she sat across from you. A scarf wrapped around her head to protect her hair from the wind today. During the train ride, you fake many things to be able to life your head from your laptop to steal a glance. Your face turned red the couple times she caught you, but she only gave you a small smile. 

Once at the Weathervane, you purchased a coffee for you and one for her. She was standing a few people back in line with someone today, another woman. The companion seemed to be pointing things out, possibly giving a tour. 

Much as the routine goes, you sit, pull open everything you need on the computer, name gets called, and you sit back down to focus on your writing. How could you focus, however, when Larissa was so close by. You only saw your muse once a day, you probably shouldn’t waste it.

You take the time to look at her outfit today. You were seeing a trend, neutral colors and shades of white. It emphasized how fair her skin was. You thought it brought more intensity to her beautiful eyes and lips. 

You notice Larissa glance around the shop when the barista tells her that her coffee is once again paid for. You smile to yourself, loving how she had no clue the crush you had on her. 

When she and her companion were called to get their coffees, you stole a final glance. She was already looking. She flashed a smile at you. Did she know it was you buying her coffee?

3. The Third Time

Today you had headphones on. It felt like a classical music kind of morning, trying to suck some inspiration from Claude Debussy. Larissa sat down with you again when you reached Burlington, but what you didn’t know is that she tried talking to you this time. 

“What are you writing?” Her voice was soft, nervous to even be speaking to you, but when she received no answer, her face was hot with embarrassment. She scolded herself internally, she should have known better than to talk with someone with headphones on. 

The train ride continues. You steal the momentary glace. Typing out the ways to describe her nose, her jaw, and her hair. She saw you looking at her, so she held her gaze at you, wanting to let you know she saw you staring. 

She gently shook her head at you, giving a partial smirk, almost like she was teasing you for staring. 

The routine at the Weathervane came and went, only when Larissa waited for her order, she sat at your table. You thought you were having a minor panic attack. You stayed completely still not typing a word. She was looking around the room, stopping to look at you a couple times. Was she teasing you?

When her name was called, she stood up with a smile. She had to have known it was you buying her coffees. 

You watched her leave the coffee shop, When she was outside, you watched her out the window. She chose to walk past the window on the other side of your booth, flashing you a smile as she walked past. 

4. The Fourth Time

This train ride was fuller than usual. You heard through local gossip that it was the nearby school’s parents weekend. When Larissa’s stop came, you wanted to scream at the parents across from you to move out of the way. That that spot was her unofficial-official spot. 

You didn’t hide the fact that you were looking for her at the Burlington stop. Just to catch her eye. You wanted to know if she was there and wanted her to know you were there. 

You spotted her, unable to stop a smile from spreading on your face. You seemed to catch her eye too. She waved at you with a gloved hand from the other side of the train, causing your heart to flutter.

At the Weathervane, you were feeling a little cheeky. You ordered her coffee and put it at the spot across from you. When she came in, you leaned your head from the booth trying to catch her eye. She had already been searching the room for you though. You nod down to the table indicating for her to come over. 

When she approached, you took the time to appreciate how truly tall she was. She looked from you to the coffee and back to you again, “For me?”

You nod with an embarrassed smile.

“I’m running late. Let’s chat tomorrow.” 

You nod once again, words seemed to be caught in your throat. You opened your mouth to speak, but nothing came out. 

Larissa only smiled down at you, seeming to enjoy how flustered you were. She gave a wink, “It’s a date then!”

You could have melted into a puddle then and there. 

5. The Final Time

“What are you writing?” 

Today your typing on the train had been furious. It was actually nervous typing. You knew today was the day to actually speak to her. Larissa was sitting across from you. You were so entranced in your work that you hadn’t noticed her intently watching you after she sat down.

“I-” You glance up from your work. She has her chin resting in her hand as she inquisitively looks at you, “I’m working on a novel... What brings you on the train?”

This generated a conversation that had you leave your laptop in the dust. You listened to her speak about her new job at Nevermore. She loved the kids and thought she thought she would want to take on a leadership role at the school when she had enough experience. You began sharing minor details about past books, but you chose to omit details about this book, not wanting to share the main characters similarities to Larissa. 

You both walked and talked all the way to the Weathervane. Turns out, you were very compatible. You liked the same books and movies. You spoke similarly about the issues plaguing mankind. Conversation flowed so freely once she finally broke that barrier. 

At the coffeeshop, the barista rang you up for two coffees as usual and Larissa smirked at you, “So it has been you buying these coffees? I had a sneaking suspicion...”

“Turns out I’m not too good at keeping my feelings a secret.” She takes the space across from you in the booth and you begin to take out your computer, setting it to the side. 

“Your feelings? Does someone have a bit of a crush?” Larissa’s confidence was soaring as she took the opportunity to tease you.

The level of comfort you felt with her was spurning on your flirtation as well, “Perhaps I do...”

The sound of your names being called interrupts you. She slides from the booth, holding up a hand, “I got it.” 

You turn your attention back to your laptop, pulling open your tabs, just like you do every morning. When Larissa returns, she doesn’t sit across from you, just rather she slides in next to you, “What are you working on? Be honest this time.” 

Her arm moves behind you as she shifts her body to face you, wanting the full scoop on this book you had been working so diligently on whenever she was around.

“Oh, it’s nothing much.”

“It doesn’t seem like nothing much.” She glanced down at the 170 page word count, then she lifted her eyes to read the words on the screen. She was skimming, but she thought she had enough information to go off of. Red lips. White-blonde hair. Pin-up girl. “Do I get royalties off this too?”

Her joke caused you to laugh, “It was hard not to- Well you are just so-”

You were fumbling. How do you tell her that she is the most beautiful woman you had ever seen? Well, turns out you didn’t have to. Your writing did the talking or you.

“She was the most beautiful being I had laid eyes on. Her beauty was ethereal?” As she read your words aloud, she almost felt embarrassed that someone felt that way about her. 

“Yes.” You looked intently at her, earning yourself a smirk as she shifted her jaw back and forth, almost like she wanted to challenge you. Instead, she leaned forward to place a kiss on the corner of your mouth, leaving the most lovely of lipstick stains. 

“I have work,” She stood, not ready to hear more compliments today. Turns out she didn’t believe herself to be the ethereal goddess you saw her as. She took her coffee, and kept speaking to you as she walked backwards towards the door, “I will see you tomorrow.”

[phylophe]

Only Human

The Mechanic observes his Magnum Opus. 

----- 

There’s something different about him - he’s used to that shit-eating grin of this asshole, and something about this one just doesn’t feel right.

“Where’s your doctor?” He asks as Four throws himself down onto his couch and stretches out, as if he owned the place.

“Aww, what if I just came over here because I missed you and your rough treatment?” The out-of-place smile is still there, and it feels more wrong by the moment. Still, the man’s committed to his acting, if nothing else, and keeps up the cocky composure even as he smears blood onto one of the new cushions. “Or maybe I just wanted to have a catch-up with my favourite mechanic?”

“Sure. In the small hours of the morning. Covered in dried blood. And… did you get shot?”

Four doesn’t retort immediately with some smart comment; only after a few seconds does he manage a feeble comeback. “I didn’t get shot. I got shot at, and they missed.”

“Nice try with the bullshit.” He doesn’t press further. He hasn’t seen Four so weak, so broken, so human, since the time he’d spent months putting the man’s body back together.

He doesn’t ask anymore questions, and Four doesn’t tell anymore lies. Two days later, he wakes up to find his couch empty.

Don’t do anything stupid, he thinks.

-----

But of course the bastard goes and does multiple stupid things.

Over the following weeks, the double-agent does an abysmal job of upholding that title, and ends up dirtying his couch three more times. The last of these times, his partner ended up having to actively hack into the government surveillance records and manually overwrite some files.

“Are you so full of crap that it’s finally filling up the space in your skull, shit-for-brains?” Four’s actions were reckless and selfish, so he figures he deserves a taste of his own medicine, if only in the form of a scolding. “Please tell me you’re fucking up on purpose, because if you’re getting us into trouble by actual stupidity, I’ll have to kick your ass myself.”

“Maybe I don’t have enough fibre in my diet?” Even while sedated, the shithead somehow musters up enough energy to pull a jerk-ass face, and he’d like nothing more than to put his fist in it, except his hands are currently occupied by clamps and a scalpel.

“I’m serious, Ilvait.” The emphasis on his real name does the trick - Four’s face grows stern and his eye sharpens with attention. “I couldn’t care less if you got your sorry ass handed to you and die in some rat-hole, but if you keep pulling crazy stunts and jeopardising the safety of the rest of us, I’ll go have a word with your superiors on both sides.”

Four doesn’t bother with a reply - that alone tells him that the agent’s streak of poor performance isn’t simply coincidental.

“What happened to your doctor?” His anger is diffusing a bit. He’s only human, after all.

Four supplies a single word: “Hrodna.”

The airstrike. They’d attacked not only the infantry, but also one of the field hospitals. “Did she die?”

“No.”

The gears turn in his head and the pieces click into place. “So are you going to do anything about that stick up your ass, before it migrates too high and gives you a heart attack or a stroke or something?”

“What do you suggest?” Four asks with his face turned away; he can’t say he likes it better when the asshole’s grinning, but he also can’t deny his pity for the guy. “Should I take a leaf out of your book: Insubordination For Dummies?”

“I thought you of all people would somehow find a way around it, what with all those nasty thoughts squirming around in there.” He cauterises a blood vessel with an electric scalpel. There’s some nerve damage and a number of small arteries need to be reconnected - procedures that are beyond his abilities. Four will have to get a proper doctor back at home. “Assuming you can even manage rational thought at this point.”

Four doesn’t respond. Oh my god, he’s actually listening.

“Look, if it’s bothering you to this extent - damned if you do and damned if you don’t - go take care of this personal shit before you fuck up everything else.” He puts down the scalpel and picks up a suturing needle, sighing as he turns back to his subject. “If it’s that difficult, I’ll do what I can. Marclai will help, too.”

He braces himself for a smug quip, perhaps preceded by a coy, overly-affectionate coo.

“Thanks.”

He didn’t expect that. “Don’t thank me.” He waves it off with a soft grunt. “I just don’t want me, or him, or anyone else getting caught up in this mess because you’re worried about your woman.”

Four is only human, after all. The reminder rings once again in his head. And nothing is more human than the weakness for love.

-----

He squints at the scanned document on the screen. It looks like a scientific paper, impeccably formatted with LaTeX, complete with figures, tables, and equations. The author had identified himself as ‘Ivan Mikael Fore’.

The text, however, consists of just one word: chicken, over and over. He glances over to the page count: Page 1/34. “What’s this?”

“Something that came to the attention of the general himself. Apparently one of his close associates - a civilian, to boot - got tipped off with this piece of intelligence.” His boss sounds exasperated through his headset. “It looks like a prank, but there’s a hidden message in this apparent nonsense.” A PDF file is opened, with a short message occupying a tiny fraction of the page:

on ap ril twen ty nin th at ze ro thr ee hund red ho urs th ere will be an acci den tal deto nat ion of a seri es of six und isco ver ed la ndmi nes five po int two ki lome tres sou the ast of the ca mp

He recalls a conversation he had with Marclai a couple of weeks ago. Apparently Four had requested access to the secured bunker where all the yet-to-be-defused explosives from previous wars are kept, and asked to have the records rewritten so the missing items couldn’t be traced. There was also something about drawing up a circuit involving a timer.

“Do you know anything about this, Haekel?” His silence probably answered that question already. Shit. “This has Ilvait written all over it, don’t you think?”

“I can’t say for certain, ma’am.” He fumbles with the mic of his headset. “What camp is this, if I may ask? Does the general have an idea? Any matches with anything in our records?”

“The general thinks it’s Dzisna.” Oh, damn it, Four. “The Naveau name has been popping up mysteriously lately - someone bumped the Hrodna-Dzisna case up the priority list, the password access to files of missing personnel has been removed by an unknown hacker, and rumours are gaining traction. The media loves it, of course, and wants to know what the military’s doing about it.”

“My apologies, but I don’t know anything about this chicken manuscript, ma’am.” He leans back in his chair, feeling both amazed and exasperated. “I can have my associate dig into the server’s logs if you wish - do some data-mining, see if anything turns up.”

“That’d be useful. I’ll send you the details after further discussions with the unit, then.” His boss sighs. “It just seems like too much of a coincidence, with Ilvait volunteering to be deployed to that month-long recon mission in Azerbaijan. Is he trying to create an alibi for himself?”

“I really don’t have an answer for that, but I’ll see what we can do, Major General.”

He waits until the electronic security scan is complete before turning to his partner. “You helped him, didn’t you, Ilya?”

He really pulled a leaf out of your book, after all, Marclai signs from across the room. Since it’s for a righteous reason for once, I agreed. It reminds me of old times.

“I’d be impressed if he can pull this off.” He pulls off his glasses and rubs at his eyes. “Truth be told, I kinda hope he does.”

He will, if I’m backing him up.

-----

Okay, he’s impressed.

The Special Reconnaissance Unit had decided, in conjunction with General Naveau and the rest of intelligence, that the tip was genuine, and too good of a wave not to ride. 

In the chaos provided by the ‘accidental detonation’, a small taskforce composed of volunteers stormed the place, and rescued the surviving prisoners - Four’s doctor among them. The base itself was heavily bombed to erase any evidence of the taskforce’s intrusion.

When Four returned from Azerbaijan, he was taken into custody almost straight off the plane, ferried back to headquarters, and questioned thoroughly and mercilessly, but there’s no solid evidence of his involvement, and his alibi was flawless.

He was even more pleased when the Major General decided to unofficially punish Four, anyway. He sure couldn’t say no to the offer.

“So… you’re my bitch for the next four weeks.” He pulls the most smug, snide, shit-eating smirk he can manage, and drops a stack of dusty binders on top of the pile of documents. It’s probably got nothing on Four’s face, but damn, it feels good. “Looking forward to all the old cases you’ll have the honour to look through?”

“I hate you so much,” Four grumbles, but there’s something behind his petulance - a hint of pride, and satisfaction. He’s back.

“Aww, is that the way to talk to your master?” He chuckles, and not entirely out of spite. “Aren’t you at least a little bit grateful you’re not in a worse situation right now?”

“I guess so.” Four shrugs, pouting as he turns back to his fort of files, and hunches over the computer. “I could be stuck with old case reports and not have air-conditioning.”

He laughs heartily at Four’s sign of defeat. He thinks things over, and after a few minutes of silence broken only by the white noise of fingers tapping away on a keyboard and shuffling through papers, he spins around in his swivel chair to address the man once more. “Did you see her?”

“Nope.” The typing and shuffling don’t pause for even a moment.

“Planning to?”

“Maybe when she gives her statement at the capital.” The man slaps a stained, crinkled stack of paper onto the end of the desk. “Probably not the right time for a catch-up over coffee, though.”

“Probably not.” He agrees. Still, it all feels so… sad - this secrecy, this distance, this unfulfilled longing. “Hey, Four?”

“Hmm?”

“I hope things work out for you.”

“Thanks.” The typing and shuffling stop. A sigh - miserable, weak, human. “I hope so, too.”

-----

He thought he was done dealing with his bullshit once he’s resigned from the unit, but in true Four fashion, the man has once again proved him wrong. 

“What the fuck, Four?” He’s concerned - the man is properly dressed, but his complexion is pale, and there’s this disturbingly absent look in his eyes, but that doesn’t negate how angry he is at the former-agent putting the safety of himself and everyone around him at risk. Again. “Don’t tell me you went around looking like that - in case you’ve forgotten, you’re meant to be dead now, dumb shit.” 

Four has the gall to look up at him - straight in the eyes, then simply shakes his head. “I covered my tracks.” 

He allows Four to shove past him into his workshop, and watches as the man sheds his coat, scarf and gloves in turn, tossing it over his stained couch.

His eyes scan over his body, and stop at his right hand, which is covered in soiled, carelessly-wound bandages. The blood on it looks old. 

He rolls his eyes and lets out a groan. “Sit your sorry ass down before you fall over and break something.” He digs under his desk for his medical kit, gnashing his teeth. He gets the feeling that this will be beyond his ability to fix. “Who and how did you fuck up, this time? You look like shit.” His stomach is flipping. Four isn’t an agent anymore. This wasn’t a mission - this was personal. 

He fucked up someone as a personal errand. 

Four still won’t talk to him, but at least he’s sat down on the couch. “I know you’ve been moving around.” He reaches for the bandaged hand, grabbing Four’s wrist rather roughly. “Ticking off that hit-list you’ve been compiling, right?” 

Four is silent. He takes that as a ‘yes’. 

“Did you catch and release?” He has to reduce his questions to yes-or-no ones; his friend looks damned near catatonic at this stage. 

“No.” Ah, he spoke. “Took care of the last one.” 

“And how long ago was that?” He peels off the bandages - blood and pus and iodine soak the dressing, sticking the layers together, and there’s no way he can be as gentle with it as he’d like. “Long enough for you to take piss-poor care of a simple cut and catch an infection.” He lets out an angry huff at the state of the wound - it’s probably once a neat gash across the palm, but infection has reduced it to a swollen, discoloured, feverish mess. He starts cleaning it with disinfectant. 

Four is muttering. “I was in Dzisna.” 

“…Fuck.” He can’t find a more suitable response. “You screwed up.” It wasn’t a question, because of course he did. 

He’s only human. That place is haunted for him. No way he’d have gotten out of that unscathed. 

He tries his best to get the details out of Four over the next hour as he worked on the wound, asking him short questions and prompting him to divulge. He learns enough to piece things together: Four has been committing to some vigilante work and tracked down those who’d wronged his doctor - his woman - in that camp. He’s appointed himself judge, jury, and executioner, and hit a roadblock when it came to his final victim. 

The sergeant in charge of the camp; the man who’s allowed for the vicious abuse of his woman during her imprisonment there. 

“No wonder you snapped. Damn it, Four.” He glances over at Marclai, making sure his patient is held still, before he tugs the piece of rusty, chipped scalpel out of Four’s palm. The man jolts, but the movement is much weaker than anticipated. “I know you have a lot of mechanical parts in you, but news flash: you’re still human. You have feelings. You’re not invincible.” He starts to suture the swollen, infected mess as best he can. “Don’t put yourself into stupid-ass situations like that, you extra son-of-a-bitch.”

Four doesn’t retort. He finds himself feeling too sorry for the man to scold him anymore, however much he deserves it. “Stay here for a while.” He suggests, and Marclai nods in agreement. “I have to order some shots for the technicolour mess that is your hand, and until you’re better, you’re staying here. I don’t want you passing out somewhere out there and risk exposing all of us.” 

“Until I’m better, huh?” Four lets out a pathetic little snort. 

I know; for people like us, things may never truly get better. Still– “Until you’re good enough to go back to your woman.” He tries to be firm. “No more stupid shit. Your woman doesn’t deserve to see you looking as fucked up as you do now.” 

“Okay.” Four’s response has an edge of his obnoxious sarcasm, but when he opens his mouth to reassert his message, he fancies he can see tears in the former-agent’s eyes. 

“Go lie down before you fall over.” He walks off; Marclai has long since disappeared. He understands it well - space and time are the only things that can make it better, now.

We’re all only human, after all. 

[watsonundercover]

Definition of Soulmates

Part Three

 “Brosie!” The hiss of my name jolts me into reality. Ana is waving me to the back while everyone is heading out the front door, done for the day. “You uh forgot something.” She says and shoots me a wink. Maybe she needs to gab about something.

“Right, I left my phone out.” I murmur and head back. As I turn towards the desk I hear the screech of the door closing, no matter how many times we put WD-40 on it, it still does it. I then hear Ana coming back. I put my bag to the side and cross my arms as she appears. “Everything okay?”

“Everything is awesome.” She says. “First tell me how much you love me.”

“A lot, now what did you do?” I say feeling somewhat concerned with what is going on.

“I looked at the security tapes for that guy. The mister darling in your dreams.” She says all excited. I completely forgot about that. Once my younger brother got home he wanted to see the cut and sting, he watched me like a hawk until Mom got home to find us watching a transformers movie in the living room.

“And?” I ask feeling my heart flutter.

“Remember how I said I thought I recognized the people he was with? It was when I saw him that it clicked in my head. Come take a look.” She’s sat down at the desk and is zooming around the mouse for the security monitor to bring up footage from yesterday. I look, I can only see part of his face because of the hood.  Ana is then doing something else, going into the actual computer and pulling something up for me to see. My heart then freezes, she’s pulled up the cast of the latest spider-man. She and I even went to see it in the theatre. She’s doing something funny, phasing the image from the security screen for me to see it next to the cast.

“Are you saying Dimitri freaking Hemlock caught me and is somehow in my dream?” I say and lean over to take in the sight of him.

“Looks like it is Gwen Stacy.” She teases.

“No, that’s, that’s crazy!” I exclaim and stare harder.

“You are the one who stared at him for a solid minute before I came and got you from him.” Ana says. “Can you fully confirm with that look too?” My gut is seizing, brain whirling to fast. Could someone like him really fall for a girl like me? Someone who likes cosmology and psychology and the metaphysics.  I press my hands to my face trying to hide a mix of emotions.

“Brosie is it really that much to take in?” Ana ask.

“I just always thought it would be different, like I would hear his voice in a coffee shop and spin to see someone….. Someone good looking but that, he’s he’s freaking spider-man!”

“So you were expecting some normal dude was the one attached to you? Maybe he got famous so he could find you?” Ana says.

“That’s insane.” I say and rub at my temples. “I-I’m not that special.” My voice has broken to a whisper and I lean back into the wall away from the computer. Ana goes into her phone then holds it up to me. It’s a meme. The header ‘when ur friends say the aint pretty’ There’s then a picture of a guy hitting another with captions of love on his fists I snort and she sets her phone to the side.

“Maybe they’ll come in again.” Ana says. “You could talk to him the way you did with douche pants.” Her mockery of Ben makes me smile, I’m not the only one who thinks he’s an ass.

“Maybe.” I croak and grab my bag again.

“You’re not allowed to leave until I get a yes.” She says.

“Fine I’ll try and talk to him.”  I say and roll my eyes. “Since when are you the boss of me?”

“Since you got here technically.” She says full of herself.

“Right that’s because you’ve been here so damn long.” I bite back, knowing it drives her somewhat nuts that she’s been here so long.

“Bye Mary-Jane! Lock up for me!” I pull my key out from my bag and head to the front to leave. Once I lock the door I feel the bite of the fall air. I adjust my scarf and zip up my coat before tucking my key away and walking away. I pull out my headphones for the walk home. With the Goo Goo Dolls playing I let myself relax. They’re a musical frequency that always calms me down. I cross the street then follow down the big hill to the corner and cross to the side with the mechanics and turn right to follow along the road. As I come to the end of the building where the pub is. A car pulls in front of me to slide into the back lot for the pub. I stop letting them on and continue until something cutting through my music makes my blood turn to ice.

“Darling!” It’s the voice from my dream, the same presence of the young man who saved me and held me yesterday.

I swallow a lump in my throat and slowly turn to see him coming jumping out of the car and coming towards me. I notice how he smooths out his godly mess of reddish-brown curls as he approaches me. Me, still as a mountain and very unsure if I can respond to him. Dimitri Hemlock. Someone I answered to Ben who my celebrity crush is, someone I flat out swooned over when I admitted it.

“Hi darling.” He says quietly as he lands in front of me. I bite down on my lip and look down at my feet unsure of what to say. “Um I don’t know if you recognize my voice, but I swear on my life that I’ve seen you somewhere before, it might sound crazy, but I have these dreams….”

“I do too.” I squeak cutting off his rambling, he seems to let out a deep breath and takes a step closer to me. “It was you who caught me yesterday right?” I croak.

“Yeah.” He says as his hand drifts up to fiddle with a bit of my long blonde hair.

“Um thank you, I had been having a really bad day.” I say.

“Do you want to tell me about it?” He asks.

“UH-um that would involve telling you a really long story that I don’t like.” I say and his hand moves from my hair to my cheek. My eyes flutter to it and I feel my knees shake slightly with his touch. God please tell me this isn’t some giant universal prank?

“Alright, I think I can piece it together considering the other thing I saved you from.” He murmurs. My cheeks heat up as his thumb presses into my bottom lip for a second before wrapping around my chin. My eyes wander to his lips, ones that I now really want to kiss. I bite onto my lip again and he comes closer to me, hand going to my lower back and now angling his head down to take me in. My heart stop as he starting to bring his face down to mine.

 _______

 “Oh come on!” Kallia declares as she sees the three lazy sacs we are spread out and watching TV for the first time in weeks. I’m need of a serious Netflix binge to kick off some serious relaxing. “Move over or get up!” Henry swings his legs down and she plops down with a bit of a breakfast shake.

“Any left over?” I ask eyeing it. She just points over at the blender half full. I get up and go fill a glass. We’re still getting the bearings of the room and sound from the TV, Jack assumes I can’t hear them as he asks

“So are we helping him with the girl stuff?” he’s being quiet but Henry not so much;

“We actually know her name.”

“Really? What is it?” Jack asks. Kallia looks at him intrigued

“Lady in the drug store said Brosie, guessing it’s short for something. She also said she’s been through something lately, something hard. No one really can tell what.” Henry says.

“Gunna throw it out there but you two did save her from some guy, might have something to do with that.” Kallia says all matter of fact.

“Probably.” Jack murmurs.  They look over at the screen again. Kallia however looks back at me chewing on my cheek as I look over at them. I break into a smile and say;

“So are you wankers gunna help me?” She starts laughing, Henry rolls his eyes and Jack sits up.

“Anything to get you laid man.” He says.

“Don’t think that will happen that quickly.’ I say and go back over to them with the smoothie. “But I think going slow is definitely a good idea.”

“Definitely.” Kallia agrees. “And your technique in getting her attention will be?”

“Darling.” I say and her eyebrows scrunch together. I have a gulp of smoothie then explain; “It’s what I’ve said every time I’ve seen her in the trance, it’s something more than what I say with everyone else.”

“You already have a pet name? Lame.” Henry says. I shrug it off.

“If you’re going to be an ass you get to act out how he should approach her then.” She says kicking him off the loveseat they’re on.

“I’ll need a partner for that.” He bites getting up and puts and arm out her dramatically.

“Oooo I’ll do it.” Jack says getting up as Kallia gives Henry an unimpressed look. “I’ll be the girl so come flirt handsome.” He says throwing a couch pillow at him. Henry catches it and put it next Kallia who grabs it to hug. Henry and Jack now stand in front of me in the middle of the room.  Jack juts out his hip and plays with his phone. Henry then steps closer and says;

“Um hi darling.” Jack dramatically squeals and throws himself at him, taking both of them down while exclaiming;

“My soulmate!”

“Yeah no, probably not happening like that.” Kalia says laughing. “Please take this seriously Jack.”

“I’ll try.” He says laughing. He and Henry get up to reset themselves.  Jack strikes the same pose as before. And Henry taps his shoulder to say;

“Hello darling.” Jack turns all wide eyed.

“Your voice, I think I’ve heard it before!” He says too excited. I roll my eyes, I don’t think it will be like that, that she would act like that. How would she react? The train of thought begins knowing at my skull as I picture her and me standing in the living room. Instead of Jack taking him and Henry down as he attempts to jump in his arms, I see me holding her like I did before, her eyes stayed on mine. Jack is them attempting to burst into song like in Disney movies, he’s now aiming for entertaining us. I imagine her singing, sounding amazing, at least amazing to me. I swallow a lump in my throat as Henry manages to get through it without being taken down. I draw up the image of her being close to me, not being as dramatic as these guys, being clever, honest and well, I can’t fill in the rest.

“Alright you two can give it a rest.”  I say and finish off my smoothie. My brain kicks into one good thought, I decide to voice it; “I wonder how she would react to you lot. As crazy as we can be.” I flick a bit of lint of my pants as Henry goes back to Kallia, Jack lies out again.

“It would be nice to have another girl here.” Kallia says.

“Yeah yeah you need female friends.” Henry says thinking. “Maybe she’s uber calming or something, would be good for us.”

“Yeah Dimitri is totally going for a yoga hottie who eats kale and all that shit.” Jack says sarcastically.

“I do yoga.” Kallia says and shoots him a look.

“There you can have a yoga buddy.”  Henry jabs.

“I think I need some alone time.” She states and gets up with a straight back and holding onto her smoothie cup. I hold mine up to her and she takes it with her.

“Thank you.” I say and look at her, giving her more thanks than I said with my eyes, she knows I need some distracting but I need all this swirling around in a coherent manner. Images and acting, something I know and can do very easily. I wonder how she will figure all this about me. A lot of talking like most relationships go or it going to intuitional, something filling us in like the black room connecting us?

“Hey man want to go get some of those donuts that we got yesterday?” Henry asks zapping me out.

“Sure.” I say and get up to walk into the streets of Deep Cove with them.

 _______

 I’m the one who’s calm. Just as Henry depicted. But she isn’t how Jack portrayed her at all. She is wide blue eyes and stone still as I move closer and closer to her. First by my feet then, bringing my nose down to hers to gently brush. She lets out a shaky breath as I take the side of her face, fingers lacing around her jaw.

“Telling me what your thinking.” I whisper gently.

“I’m trying to convince myself that I’m dreaming.” She whispers back.  I brush my nose against hers again and her body tenses up more.

“You’re not dreaming darling.” I say and dive in for the kiss, holding her so tightly as her hands snake around my neck as she eagerly kisses me back. We pull back, but we can’t let go, it’s too sweet, she buries her nose in the crook of my neck and I just hold her, rubbing her back. When a sob escapes her I shush her gently, then pull apart to see her dab at her eyes.

“I’m sorry, I’m not usually like this.” She squeaks. “This is just so….”

“Perfect.” I fill in and her eyes look at me with a huge amount of hope.