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pagesuponstpages · 6 years

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waiting for you

inspo: songfic of waiting for you by the aces

word count: +8.8k

synopsis: she’s always been close with luke, best friends even. and when feelings are realized does she find out that maybe their friendship had always been a little more than ‘just friends.’

a/n: sorry if my capitalization doesn’t make sense. also this kinda got out of hand, thus being so long. also the last line is kinda eh but yeah, hope you enjoy

Ping! Ping!

She cracked one of her eyes open, blindly grabbing for her phone.

Bzzt Bzzt

Remember the words you told me, love me till the day I die.

Y/N finally caught her phone, clicking the home button to turn it on, which also shut off the ringer.

“Fucking shit,” she yelped as the white light nearly blinded her eyes. After turning down the brightness to a considerable amount, she saw the notifications pop up, one after another.

lu: I’m having one of those moments lu: I can’t sleep (2) missed calls from lu cal-pal: did u pick up luke? cal-pal: he’s interrupting my sleep (2) missed calls from sumo smash ash mikey-crikey: please tell you’re with him sumo smash ash: u up mikey-crikey: I don’t need more late night phone calls sumo smash ash: pls talk to luke sumo smash ash: I need my sleep mikey-crikey: he scared the daylights out of southy and crys (1) missed call from cal-pal lu: I’m sorry if I woke u up

She rolled her eyes, reading the texts, before unlocking her phone and replying back.

y/n: no but I guess I will now cal-pal: thank god, bless your soul y/n: overdramatic ass. I’m getting up now cal-pal: oke gn :) y/n: gn u dork

y/n: lazy hoe sumo smash ash: wOW OKAY sumo smash ash: but please? sumo smash ash: he somehow calms down the best with you y/n: fiiiiiine sumo smash ash: :D <3 y/n: go to sleep then! sumo smash ash: -.- zzzz

y/n: nope mikey-crikey: please? y/n: getting up and putting my jacket on mikey-crikey: you’re a lifesaver y/n: the story of my life mikey-crikey: love youuuu

“Hello?”

“Hey, are you at your place?” she said, grabbing a sweatshirt from the chair next to her closet that was probably either Calum’s or Luke’s.

“Yeah, why?” Luke replied. She slipped on the two sleeves while the phone was tucked between her ear and shoulder.

“I saw your texts, I’ll be there in 10 and be ready to leave.” She ended the call before he got another word in. She grabbed her wallet and keys and slipped on a pair of mustard-yellow vans, that Mikey called atrocious and Calum called vile but she loved them to death. She went out the door, locking up behind her and walked down the 15 or some steps down from her floor to the street front, where her car was parked. Once she started the ignition and warmed up the car, while fiddling with her phone trying to find her calming playlist, she pulled out from the curb, towards the direction of Luke’s place. Y/N had been there so many times, that the drive from hers to his was muscle memory, thus her mind drifting off, just enough that her eyes were on the road, but not focusing on where she was going.

Before she knew it, she was pulling up the curb right outside his place.

y/n: i’m right outside your windowwww lu: wait lu: what?? lu: oh

She saw his head peek out the window, grinning widely at her, then she assumed he ran downstairs, a few seconds bursting out the door. He was clad in a 5SOS III hoodie and grey sweats, the hood up, which was mostly covering his curls that were spilling out from the sides.

“Y/N, you didn’t have to do this,” Luke said, settling in shotgun. She rolled her eyes, as she shifted the gears from park to drive.

“What, no hello? No ‘early morning to you’?” she teased. His laughter filled the car, warming her more than the hoodie that she was wearing.

“Top of the mornin’ to ya’, lassie,” he then said, in the best Scottish accent that Luke could muster. Which wasn't the greatest to be fair. Y/N giggled, while flicking on the turn signal to get onto the main road.

“Alrighty matey,” she replied, trying to keep a straight face.

“What, was that the best you can do?” he retorted, his thick accent becoming more prominent.

“I tried okay!” She slapped his knee, all the while staring at him cross-eyed and tongue sticking out.

“Hey! Eyes on the road!”

“Alright dad.” That prompted a shove, which Y/N responded with the car shifting to the left, nearly going into the other lane.

“Staahp it,” he groaned, leaning back in his seat.

It was quiet in the car after that, minus the music playing quietly in the background. There were barely any other cars on the road, just them speeding down the road with the windows creaked open giving a light breeze in the car.

“What playlist is this?” Luke finally said, as the song switched from Coldplay’s Fix You to Landslide by Fleetwood Mac.

“It’s my chill playlist.” They would often share music with each other, from being of their time, as they made playlists on spotify with titles that were either one-worded or twenty, to them burning CDs for each other. Thankfully, Y/N’s car still had a CD player, which she would play Luke’s mixes on the way to work.

Luke grabbed her phone that was docked next to the dashboard, where it was placed for easy access if she needs to see it for navigation or messages while driving.

“I’m not telling you the code,” she said, watching him try to unlock it in the corner of her eyes.

“That’s alright,” he said, swiping up on the screen and placing the phone in front of her face for a couple seconds before the device was unlocked.

“Hey!” she said, which earned him another smack, this time on the shoulder.

“Oww, you hurt me.”

“That’s what you get for abusing phone privileges. And now I’m not loving that function anymore, Apple,” she grumbled, as the car slowly stopped for the red light.

Luke flicked through her phone, reading through the list of songs in the playlist currently playing in the car.

“Kacey Musgraves, Fleetwood Mac, George Ezra,” he mumbled, “and 5 Seconds of Summer?!” She rolled her eyes but watched him read through her playlist amusedly.

“Yeah heard of them? They’re alright but they have some tunes.” This prompted another shove.

“Oi! Stop hitting the driver!” He stuck out a tongue at her, which she nearly missed as the light turned green. To annoy Luke even more, she sped up the car, accelerating the car as quick as she could to the speed limit of 40 mph.

“Hey!” She glanced in the rearview mirror, checking to see if there were any cars nearby, which there weren’t. Thus her slamming the brakes, careening Luke forward and her phone smacking on the dash in front of him.

“I regret ever getting in the car with you.” Luke groaned, rubbing his head which also received casualty during the sudden stop.

“But you still love me.” He watched her, hands loosely gripping the wheel and hair blowing in the breeze, as they continued down the road.

“Yeah,” he breathed out, “I do.”

Antics quieted down after that, and it just became the music and the road ahead of them. Y/N noticed Luke drifting off, as she was telling him a story of an incident that happened at work, right when she was getting into how her coworker, Brooke broke the coffee machine. She smiled at him, as she heard his soft breaths, his chest rising then sinking in slumber. Y/N turned at the next light, slowly circling back to Luke’s place.

Once she pulled up at the same spot from a couple of hours ago, she shut off the car, the music cutting out as well. He was still asleep, thankfully. Y/N knew that the guys were pulling in the extra hours on their next album, even to the point of not sleeping regularly, which worried her. So she was happy to help any band member calm down and relax in the comfort of her car, which also happened to be her favorite thing: driving down the road in the dead of the night, with quiet conversation and her trusty playlist to accompany her and the other passenger.

She climbed out of the car, shutting the door silently as she could. Then Y/N walked to the other side, opened the door, and reached over the tall blonde boy to unclip his seatbelt. Then she shifted him, so his legs were hanging out the door and one arm over her shoulder. She would’ve tried to fully carry him but considering that Luke was at least seven inches taller than her, she didn’t even bother. Thankfully, despite him still drifting in slumber, his legs cooperated with her, taking steps to the door. She kicked her car door behind her and clicked the fob to lock it, before finding Luke’s house key on her keychain.

“Okay work with me here,” she whispered, once they got into his place. Y/N sat him down on the couch, slipping off his shoes and placed them by the door next to hers. She then pulled him off the couch, having him leaning on her again as they walked slowly to his bedroom. She assumed that Luke was somewhere in between consciousness and sleep as he held her arm, right as she was walking away from his bed, in which she tucked him into moments before.

“Stay with me,” he mumbled, while tugging her back towards the bed. Y/N weighed the options, thinking when she needed to get up for work that would give enough time for her to get back to her place and change in time.

“Okay,” Y/N decided. She opened the clock app on her phone, pressing the alarm for 7:45 am and 8 am before plugging her phone in Luke’s phone charger next to his bed. Then Y/N untied her hair from a half ponytail, putting the hairband next to her phone, wallet, and keys on the bedside table. She slid into bed, right next to Luke, who wiggled a bit away from her to make room, and once her head hit the pillow, his arms and legs wrapped around her frame, warming her enough to immediately drift off to sleep.

Why you acting like a stranger, when we do this every night.

Y/N’s eyes opened, before groaning. She was exhausted due to not going to bed early enough, much less considering her late night/early morning drive with Luke. Speaking of Luke, she briefly forgot where she was, until a large form curled around her shifted to slap her phone off the bedside table, which she assumed Luke hoped would shut off the alarm. Alas, no.

You only ever wanna love me after midnight.

She peered over the bed, looking for where her phone was. Surprisingly, it was still plugged in. So, Y/N reached out, trying to grab the phone on the ground whilst still in bed. But no, the universe didn’t want to give her all the pleasures in life.

Thuump!

“Owww,” she groaned. She quickly unlocked her phone, this time thanking the apple gods for facial recognition and shut off both of her alarms that were blaring 5SOS music.

“The funniest part of that was not the music but you falling off the bed.” She turned around, to see Luke smiling, his eyes half open and his voice scratchy.

“Shut up Lu,” she groaned, rubbing her side and hoping that a bruise won’t form there. She checked the time on her phone, cursing. “Gonna be late!” She stood up, shoving her items into the hoodie’s front pocket and tied up her hair into a floppy bun.

“Goodbye hug?” Luke said, holding his arms out. She sighed, watching this adorable man-child curled up in bed. What she would give to have another hour, heck even fifteen more minutes.

“You dork,” she said, as she put one knee on the bed, balancing herself before Luke nearly swallowed her with his arms.

“Can’t you stay longer? It was comfy with you.”

“I cannot Lucas. Also being your human teddy bear was too hot, especially when the human teddy bear is wearing sweats.” He chuckled, then retracted his arms, snuggling back under the covers.

“It was hot last night,” he agreed. The fact that both of them were wearing sweats under the comforter, not even considering that Luke was a human space heater, had Y/N slightly sweaty when she got out of bed. She walked out of the bedroom, spying a block of post-its next to a mason jar full of colored sharpies by the jar. Y/N wasn’t surprised.

After first meeting the guys and getting to know them, whenever she visited their apartments, she noticed that there were random places where there was stationary and writing utensils, post-its and sharpies being preferred the most. Calum explained to her one day that when they have random bouts of inspiration, the boys would quickly scrawl it down, trying not to forget anything. Or other times, they would leave little notes or drawings to each other before they would leave each other’s places. Some notes being thoughtful and lovely and others with crude jokes with badly drawn stick figures.

Finished with her sticky note that one was placed on the fridge and the other on the counter and putting on her shoes, she unlocked the door.

“Bye Lucas!” she yelled into the house, then shutting the door and locking up behind her with her set of spare keys, before Luke could even respond.

When Luke got up, about an hour or two later after Y/N left, he saw something neon pink in the corner of his eye once he walked into the kitchen.

hello lucas bobby hemmo hope u had a decent night of sleep and I was happy to help (you were heavy to carry when asleep!!) don’t forget to eat something before going into the studio and do the guys a favor and shower before too!!! love ya u man child your temporary uber driver

He grinned, reading the message while waiting for the coffee machine to finish brewing his morning cup. After getting out a piece of bread that he immediately put in the toaster and two boiled eggs from the fridge, he saw her second message, this time on a neon green post-it.

aaayyee ohhh hemmo1996 (never letting that go) also if you dented my phone case or cracked my phone when you smacked my phone to the ground with your humango hands I will send u the bill (also I suggest wearing the plaid pants and black high tops, it’s a look and gunsta be ‘chilly’ today!!) don’t understand you people thinking that 55 degrees is cold give Pet my best, I didn’t get to see her :(((( I bet ur eating those nasty-ass boiled eggs for breakfast ~love ya~ ;D y/n

He scoffed, biting into one boiled egg and taking a sip of his coffee. He heard the pitter-patter of Petunia’s feet on the hardwood.

“Hey Pig,” he cooed, kneeling down to rub her head. “Y/N says hello and is sorry for leaving so early.” She grunted in response, then trudged away from him to her food bowl, lapping up the water.

“Yeah, I wish she stayed too.”

Luke stood up and opened the cupboard where all of Petunia’s food, snacks and treats were housed. He grabbed the correct plastic jug, popped open the lid and used the lid which was dipped enough to indicate how much dog food to give per meal, then poured it into her bowl. He shut the jug and placed it next to the ziplock bag of homemade treats that Y/N made two weeks ago. Petunia happily started eating as he finished his own breakfast, toast now finished with butter and vegemite.

“Pet, I just-” he said, talking to his dog, “I think I like her, like, like-like her and I don’t really know what to do.” As if she was listening to him, Petunia turned around, watching him with her chocolate brown eyes. Luke sat on the ground, followed by Petunia padding over and laying in between his legs. He took another bite of his toast, chewing thoughtfully.

“And she keeps telling me that she loves me, but what does that even mean?! Is this a platonic love? Or a familial love? Or like a romantic love?” The white bulldog mix grumbled, before sniffing her own leg.

“I don’t know, man,” he said, stroking her back. He paused before laughing to himself.

“I don’t know, WO-man.” And there was silence, as if Petunia understood his bad joke. “Get it? Cause you’re a girl Pet? Not a man?” Petunia made some whining noises, before getting up and laying on her bed near the couch.

“Alright then,” he grumbled. Luke got up, realizing that he should probably get ready for the studio.

“I’ll figure it out. Maybe.”

Just as she walked into the cafe where they were having brunch, she heard all of their laughter. More specifically Luke’s laughter. Despite having a deeper-toned voice, Luke’s laugh was more high-pitched and breathy, which was something that always brought her a smile to her face and even had her laughing along.

“How can I help you?” Y/N snapped from her daze, now seeing the slightly too peppy hostess in front of her. “Hi, I’m here with a group, and I think they’re in the back.” The hostess frowned, clicking on the screen.

“I’m sorry but that’s a private party,” she said. Y/N noticed that she was tenser compared to how the hostess was a few seconds ago.

“Is there a problem? My friends are there; we made a reservation.” The hostess chewed her lip, contemplating before deciding.

“What is the name that the reservation is under?”

“I think it’s under Bobby or Thomas. For a party of 7?” Whenever they would have these get-togethers, the boys would always put the reservation under a different name, to limit the crowds of people that would form out front once someone recognized them. She mentally rolled her eyes, as they weren’t that creative with names.

“Uh,” the hostess said, her hands slightly shaking and her eyes shifting around them, “can you give me a second?” Y/N frowned, annoyed that she had to wait when she could hear them just a few feet away from her. But she nodded, which then the hostess walked into the back.

y/n: what the heck?!! cal-pal: what? what did I do? y/n: what’s the reservation name under cal-pal: ...fuck cal-pal: I think I put it under Thomas y/n: …… cal-pal: sorry cal-pal: are they giving you trouble y/n: I think so, the hostess had to quiz me y/n: then I think she’s getting her boss cal-pal: do u want me to go up there y/n: no it’s fine, I’ll figure it out cal-pal: ..okay just lmk if u want me to y/n: oke

“Excuse me, ma’am?” Y/N looked up from her phone, now seeing the hostess move onto another customer while a young lady and a guy that seemed to be the epitome of a hipster watched her, their eyes looking over every part of her and her outfit. Y/N normally didn’t care what people thought of what she wore. Some days it was lazy and comfortable with a sweatshirt while other times it was more dressy and fashionable with colored ankle boots to match. Today was an in between, with a polka dotted t-shirt dress, black stockings, and olive green combat boots. Oh, and she was wearing Luke’s 5SOS sweatshirt again, which she stole from him and basically claimed as her own. Now thinking over her choices this morning as (what she presumes) the two owners look her over, debating if she truly is apart of the group that’s closed off the back of the cafe or if she was a rabid fan that wanted to meet the band of her dreams.

“Oh! Y/N, you’re here!” She spotted Ashton behind the cafe owners, sporting a wide grin. The owners automatically relaxed and stepped aside.

“Sorry about that sir, we just weren’t sure if she was-”

“That’s fine, and I’ll take her to our seats,” Ashton said, cutting off the hipster dude. The two nodded, before walking away, into the back area near the kitchens.

“Perfect timing,” Y/N breathed, as she and Ash walked down a corridor to the closed-off section.

“Cal told me about the situation, and after taking awhile, he asked if I could check up to see if they had thrown you out.” She rolled her eyes, elbowing him.

“There you are! What took you so long!” Michael said, pulling her into a hug.

“Sorry guys and gals, the front wouldn’t let me go for a bit.” Luke’s eyebrows furrowed, as he took a sip of what Y/N assumed to be some fruit/vegetable health concoction that she would say far away from.

“I think the sweatshirt didn’t help,” Cal said, who was sat next to her. Y/N shrugged.

“Probably. I didn’t think much of it this morning, was just cold. But hey, at least you know that you’re covered with security and privacy at this place.” The boys nodded, looking back down at their menus.

“We didn’t order yet, except for Luke’s weird-ass smoothie and Crystal’s juice,” Cal said, leaning on her shoulder. He gave her his menu, since there wasn’t enough for the whole table, thus him reading over her shoulder the options.

“Heyyy,” Luke said, who was sitting on the other side of Y/N. He leaned in, to the point where Y/N was squished in between the two freakishly tall dudes (okay so there are many people, specifically guys that are around their height but to Y/N and her measly height they all seems gigantic). “I heard that. And it’s not weird; it’s tasty and good for you.”

“Mate, those two don’t belong in the same sentence,” Ashton quipped. He was sat across from Y/N, still flicking through the menu, unsure what to get.

“Unfortunately I would have to agree, it might be healthy but definitely doesn’t taste good,” Y/N said, facing Luke who was pouting at her statement.

“Have you tried it?” His eyes bore into hers, and when she looked into his, there was a lack of laughter that would usually be there. She shook her head.

“No,” she mumbled.

“Try it.” Luke reached out the straw towards her lips, and with some nudges from Luke, she took a sip to her dismay and the laughter of her friends around her. Once the liquid hit her tongue, her eyebrows crinkled and her eyes squinted at the bitter and sour taste.

“HA! I told you it wasn’t good!” Calum said, pointing at Luke. Luke raised his eyebrows at Y/N in question.

“I mean it’s not bad-”

“See!”

“-but I wouldn’t pay money to get it.” The table chorused in laughter, with the exception of Luke.

“Are you ready to order?” Their whole group suddenly went silent, now realizing the waitress that was standing at the end of their table, for who knows how long.

“Uh yeah,” Mikey said. Everyone said their orders, going clockwise around the table, until it stopped at Y/N.

“Uh this is awkward,” she mumbled, flipping through the menu to see if anything stuck out to her. She had something in mind earlier, but now it was slipping her mind what that was.

“Just get the eggs benedict, it’s pretty good here,” Luke whispered to her, who was practically on her shoulder.

“You and your fucking eggs,” she grumbled.

“And what would you like ma’am?” Luke choked back his laughter, as the waitress spoke immediately after Y/N, who was now mortified that everyone around her heard what she just said.

“I’ll have the eggs benedict, with hash browns on the side,” she finally said, after a nudge from Cal, which broke her stupor. The waitress nodded, scrawling it down on her notepad before collecting all the menus.

“It will be out in about 15 to 20 minutes, and is there anything else that you need? Refills?” Cal and Ash snorted, then quickly composed themselves.

“No thank you,” Michael said, almost rolling his eyes at the boys’ antics. The waitress nodded, then walked away back into the kitchens. “Really?” He glared at Cal and Ash.

“What? We were laughing at Y/N.” Ash said, still giggling. The whole tabled looked at her, who was doe-eyed, like a deer in the headlights.

“What? All I did was this,” she said, shrugging. She then pointed at Luke’s smoothie, followed by the pantomiming of her chopping her neck along with being cross-eyed and her tongue sticking out. The whole table erupted in laughter.

“Man, I’m stuffed,” Mikey said, patting his stomach. Y/N rolled her eyes, yet chuckled at the currently blonde-haired boy.

“Heading back to the studio?” Y/N asked, as they got up from their seats. Some were stretching and others were sliding on their jackets. Mikey shook his head.

“Nah, we have the day off.” Y/N nodded, while tying the sweatshirt, that may or may not have caused her so much trouble earlier that day, around her waist.

“So, you’re just gonna chill?” she replied. Ashton shrugged, frowning slightly.

“Yeah, I guess.” They all walked out of the cafe; the cool breeze lightly hitting them in the face. The group stood in twos, with Luke and Y/N bringing up the rear.

“What are you gonna do today?” Luke said, swinging his arm, back and forth, which was holding her hand. She shrugged, also swinging her arm in tune with Luke’s.

Normally, when they would casually be holding hands or any other form of affection that was shown more in couples, Y/N didn’t think much of it. But today it felt different between them. Maybe it was the excessive joking at the cafe, or how they split chocolate chip pancakes together and he fed her the first bite, but whatever it was, it was all adding up in her head. Did he like her? Because damn, if he did, her heart would burst out of her chest, just like how it is now, thundering away.

“Just it’s gonna be us singletons!” Y/N snapped out her reverie, now seeing Mikey and Crystal walk away, giving them a wave with her free hand.

“Mate, it’s just us,” Calum point out, nodding at Luke and Y/N’s intertwined hands. Her cheeks turned hot and were probably pink.

“No, my hands are just cold,” Luke said, who was also sporting tinged cheeks.

“We’re in the west coast? And look, you have pockets, man.” Ashton was pointing to Luke’s leather jacket, which indeed did have pockets.

“They can’t fit with his humango hands,” Y/N quipped, grinning at Luke. She maintained eye contact with the blue-eyed boy as she put their enclosed hands into her own coat pocket that was unusually big. Something in her compelled her to do this; she wasn’t sure what. But based on the widened eyes and grin that Luke was giving her, Y/N was glad she did.

The boys didn’t say much to the gesture, as they continued walking down the street, side by side. Luke gave their intertwined hands a brief but tight squeeze, as he continued to chat with Cal about some band, that Y/N didn’t catch the name of, and that band’s new album that was going to be released in the next few days. She glanced at him in the corner of her eye, while she was listening to Ash ramble about a new song that the band was writing recently.

“Y/N?”

“Hm?” She looked up from her shoes, to see Ash staring at her with a smirk.

“Thinkin’ about something?” Her mouth flopped open then closed, after a moment, noting that she probably looked like a fish flopping out of the water.

“No?” Her cheeks grew hot. Was it just today, or has it always been that her mind drifted to thinking about Luke?

“Well,” Ash said with a raised eyebrow, “I was asking you about your thoughts.”

“My thoughts?”

“About the song?” Y/N’s eyes widened suddenly, trying to rack her mind of the song that Ash was talking about, to pull something out of her ass to convince him that she was listening to him.

“Yeah, the one I was talking about?”

“Ah, um, it’s interesting?” she paused, thinking of something better to say. “Like, I can’t imagine creatively writing a melody that doesn’t copy an already written song?” Ashton nodded at her, his face grim and stoic.

“That’s-” he said, before bursting into laughter.

“What?” She stopped walking, seeing the older boy bent over laughing. Oh yeah, she forgot Luke was holding her hand. Y/N was immediately pulled forward, causing her to trip and stumble, which also induced Ashton into further laughter.

“Why did we stop?” Luke said, watching the two of them, one who was still bent over in laughter, while the other gripping his arm to prevent from falling over into the pavement.

“Y-Y/N-” Ashton said, then giggled further. He stood up, taking deep breaths to calm down, though he was still sporting a huge grin.

“Shut up dude,” Y/N groaned, pulling Ashton’s arm up till he was standing upright again. Luke smirked at Y/N while Cal rolled his eyes at the two of them, and the two of them continued on with their conversation.

“I hate you,” she groaned, once they were again situated back in their positions: the four of them walking down the sidewalk in a row of four, much to the annoyance of other pedestrians that would pass them with a stink eye. Ash would give them an exaggerated frown back at them, which would be responded with a huff and a mutter something along the lines that they were done with tourists for the month. Cal and Luke were completely oblivious to those stares and grimaces, as they were wrapped up in their conversation, which Y/N was not sure if was still about music or about the recent rugby match that Luke dragged her out from her cozy cocoon of her bed at 3 am to watch the match with him at his place. (She later found out that both Ash and Cal were also up at the godforsaken hour at Ashton’s apartment, much to the neighbors’ disappointment.)

“Nah, pretty sure you love me,” Ashton quipped, sidestepping behind Y/N to let an elderly couple walk past them. Y/N rolled her eyes, but the smile creeping up on her face said otherwise.

“Unfortunately.” She slumped her shoulders, which pushed her hands deeper into her coat pocket. She also missed the widening smile that Luke was on his face, while Cal and Ash noted the quiet exchange in their minds.

“And you love him more,” Ashton said, quiet enough for her to hear, but for the other two Aussie boys to not.

“Well I mean,” she hesitated, “I love all you guys.”

“But him more.” He raised his eyebrows slightly, as the corner of his mouth quirked up, the smirk threatening to spread across his face. Y/N frowned for a moment, then her expression changed to a soft smile in an instant.

“Maybe so.”

cal-pal: I don’t understand cal-pal: why cant u just tell her lu: dunno lu: I’m sure she doesn’t like me in that way cal-pal: dude cal-pal: have u SEEN how she’s like with u around? lu: like any other normal time we hang out? cal-pal: smh lu: ?? cal-pal: whatever man

Luke sighed, placing his phone on the coffee table in front of him. He likes her, that for sure he knows. Heck, he’s also pretty sure that he loves her.

But his mind is going crazy if she does too. It also didn’t help the poor boy when she decided to hold his hand while they were strolling down the street with Cal and Ash. And she made no comment or further action about it, other than teasing him with the boys that 1. he’s cold and it’s LA in the spring, and 2. he has, and she quotes, “humango hands,” which she also said exactly in her post it the other week. Does she or does she not?

Petunia padded over to where he was sitting on the couch, sniffling and whining for his attention.

“Hey Pet,” he said, a soft smile adorning his lips as he rubbed her head, placing a kiss or two right above her eyes.

“Maybe it’s just a close friends thing,” he grumbled, “like, she greets all of the guys with a hug and a kiss on the cheek.” He paused thinking. “I mean she calls Ash ‘babe’ all the time.”

y/n: am forward or being too forward sumo smash ash: normally, I’d say a bit too forward y/n: and? sumo smash ash: let me finish! sumo smash ash: but with luke’s thick-ass skull I’d almost say not enough y/n: aCTUALLY y/n: I mean, last week I stayed in bed with him and we CUDDLED y/n: I don’t cuddle with guys too often sumo smash ash: cept us dudes sumo smash ash: cause we cuddly y/n: facts y/n: but like I helped him fall asleep at the “ass-crack of dawn” y/n: who does that? y/n: and we slept in the same bed, intertwined PRIOR to falling asleep y/n: I left the dude cute-ass notes sumo smash ash: to be fair sumo smash ash: u do the driving thing with us, along with other poor fellas that suffer jet-lag or insomnia sumo smash ash: even at the ass-crack of dawn y/n: I guess sumo smash ash: but u do seem to be more personal and flirty with him compared to your usual nice-ness

Y/N groaned, dragging her fingers through her hair. How come he just didn’t know?

She had been trying to give Luke hints that she likes him, hell, that she loves him, but alas he has no clue.

Two weeks ago, they had a movie marathon, the day right after the boys came back from 5SOS III, in which they were both tucked up on the couch with a few blankets and at least four pillows. And after awhile, at about the beginning of the second movie, they were spooning, and she was also hand-feeding Luke red vines and popcorn. Not to mention that they also fell asleep on the couch and were woken up at 7 am by Petunia licking her face and whining in Luke’s ear.

The following weekend they spent time “browsing,” as what Y/N called it, thus so that her wallet wouldn’t be dead by the end of their spontaneous shopping trip. They went everywhere, from boutiques that housed fashions worth more than her apartment rent, to beauty counters where she needed more matte eyeliner and the two of them gazed and glitter palettes (they both bought one each, though they promise to borrow and share the wide variety of colors) and rows and rows of nail polish in every color under the sun. To normal clothings stores, “lucas, these clothes are barely in my income range, and I want plaid pants too,” and of course the stores that allowed Y/N to get five white t-shirts of the most minute styling differences all under 20 dollars. They even ran into a few fans, which she silently stepped aside, continuing to look at other items in the store, all the while being a couple feet away from Luke in case they needed to make a swift exit. No questions were raised about the two of them together, out on the town, all assuming that she was just a supportive friend in all endeavors of Luke Robert Hemmings’ life.

It became to the point with the amount of time that they were spending with each other outside of Luke being in the studio or Y/N at work, that her lingering feelings that she’s housed for the light-haired curly-headed boy turned into actual, vivid emotions that came up fluttering in her belly, especially when he would give her that wide, eye-crinkle, grin.

y/n: I just don’t know what to do sumo smash ash: maybe bring it up a notch? sumo smash ash: like to the point where it’s painfully obvious y/n: well if that doesn’t work then might as well tell him myself y/n: despite ya know y/n: the overwhelming potential rejection y/n: damn. y/n: guys have it hard, when going first with these kinds of things sumo smash ash: YEAH sumo smash ash: that’s if guys go first sumo smash ash: despite it being the 21st century y/n: yeahhhh ik y/n: girls kinda still want some reassurances that the other is into you before they jump in too sumo smash ash: c’est la vie

Y/N frowned, trying to wracked her brain of more, should she say, creative ways of implying that she’s in love with her best friend.

Remember the words you told me, love me-

Y/N awoke immediately, swiping on her phone screen to answer the call.

“Hello?”

“Hey, you coming?” She furrowed her eyebrows, now looking at her phone screen, which popped up with more notifications that she seemingly didn’t hear during her nap.

in 2 hours - cashton’s rando bar hang lu: do u want me to pick u up lu: I think cal and mike want to go eat before lu: are you there? cal-pal: hey so thinkin that we should eat first cal-pal: to ya know, avoid the sudden alcohol rush cal-pal: nvm ash is pregaming mikey-crikey: are we meeting at the restaurant ash: what restaurant mikey-crikey: I wanna eat dude mikey-crikey: starving, ate an early lunch cal-pal: me too cal-pal: y/n where to? ...read more messages…

Y/N cursed to herself, seeing that it was a little past 8, while the guys had planned to hang at 7, and the additional last-minute dinner plans that they decided at 6, made her super late.

the true 5 seconds of summer y/n: SORRY SORRY SORRY y/n: OVERSLEPT cal-pal: finally cal-pal: we were just about to leave and bust down ur door mikey-crikey: luke was getting worried lu: WAS NOT mikey-crikey: you kept checking your phone every minute ?? lu: shut up ash: y/n hurrry upppp wer’e abtt to go HARD y/n: what? cal-pal: luke and ash are tipsy now, ash more than luke y/n: alright imma comin, imma comin

She plugged her phone in the charger, as it was likely that it was gonna be a long night and she didn’t want the risk of her phone being dead, trying to get a cab or uber with four utterly smashed guys.

Y/N looked in her closet, trying to find the dress with zodiacs embroidered in gold, that she was planning to wear, as she thankfully already planned her outfit for the night.

“Now where’s the jacket,” she mumbled, after slipping on the dress, breathing out heavily.

Luke swallowed another shot, trying to numb himself of the incessant thoughts in his head.

“Dude, you should slow down. Wait until Y/N comes,” Calum said, then taking a sip of his water.

“Don’t bother, she’s probably with that guy from her work.” Calum raised an eyebrow at the younger boy, but didn’t question him.

Ever since Luke heard from Y/N about this one guy that she met from work, who was a new hire, he couldn’t stop the seething jealousy. Despite him not voicing his own feelings, she would blabber on about how they both like similar music and movie marathons, which he thought was their thing. Much to say that Luke hated this guy’s guts, and the funniest part is that he doesn’t even remember the guy’s name.

“Hey, did Y/N make it yet?” Ashton said, with Michael trailing behind him.

“Not yet, but she just texted me, and the uber driver said about 2 more minutes,” Calum said, shrugging.

“I’m getting another drink.” Luke stood up suddenly, though he wobbled a little walking to the bar.

“I’m sorry again, but how much longer until we get there?”

“I don’t know ma’am, there seems to have been an accident.” She frowned, re-crossing her legs and vowing that she will set up ten alarms before she takes a nap ever again.

y/n: sorrrrry again cal-pal: ? y/n: there’s an accident on the highway y/n: hella traffic y/n: if I wasn’t on the highway, I would walk, we’re that close cal-pal: it’s alright cal-pal: except luke is getting antsy cal-pal: apparently you’re with a guy from work and it’s driving him crazy y/n: wait what

She raised her eyebrows, before frowning. It makes sense now: the hesitance, the nervous blushing, the need to cling onto her at all times. He liked her too.

But she also recognized that in Luke’s thick ass skull, he thought that when she was talking about her new co-worker Steven and how he wore a Fleetwood Mac t-shirt to work and oddly made it work in a business-attire setting and how Luke should try that. In her rambling on about Steven and his band t-shirt, Y/N presumed that he thought she liked Steven, which in her head, was the complete opposite. She was also glad that she didn’t bring up that Steven had subtly asked her out, in the form of getting drinks with a few of his buddies, but she gently let him down because she had plans with a blonde rockstar that had just come home from a promo tour of a new single off of his band’s third album (not to mention that she was head-over-heels in love with him).

Much to say that she had to bring her A-game tonight.

“I’m really sorry I’m late,” she huffed, slamming her purse on the table.

“Y/N! You’re finally here! Did you get to visit Sydney while you were at it?” She scoffed, rolling her eyes and shoved Mikey.

“I fucking hate you,” she grumbled, squeezing in between Luke and Calum. Y/N took the two shots that Ash pushed in front of her once she got settled, which went down her throat in a nice burn.

“Love you too,” Mikey said with a wink.

“Traffic finally let up?” Calum asked, leaning close to her ear, as the music was progressively getting louder once she arrived.

“Almost an hour, yeah.” She rolled her eyes. “It was just an accident with an out-of-towner that doesn’t know how to drive the California highways.”

“Figures,” Calum scoffed.

Then her phone went off, ringing and vibrating on the table in all its glory.

Remember the words you told me, love me till the da-

Y/N picked up her phone quickly, answering the call, not even checking the caller id.

“You have our song as your ringtone?!”

“Shut up!” Her cheeks turned red, from either the comment or the alcohol, but she would claim that it was the latter. “Hello? Who is this? Stevie? Stephen? Steven? Sorry, give me a second. Give me a second!”

She got up, holding onto Luke’s shoulder for balance, before teetering towards the entrance of the bar which was quieter.

“Dude, you really need to jump on that before the train leaves the station.” Luke was staring at the drink in front of him, then peered up, seeing all three boys, at different stages of drunkenness, all with knowing looks.

“What do you mean?” Ash scoffed, his arms leaning forward on the table.

“You need to get your head out of your ass and talk to her,” Ashton said, taking a sip of his beer.

“In the span of the three, maybe four minutes since Y/N has arrived, you haven’t spoken to her, even acknowledged her. Of course she’s gonna think you’re not interested and move on to another guy.” Calum said. Luke sighed, taking a huge gulp of his beer.

“Guys, just because I like her, doesn’t mean that she’s interested.” Calum was pretty sure that both Ashton and Michael were seconds away from decking the youngest boy. But he just shook his head, then took a long sip from his drink.

“What do you mean Linda won’t cover for me? I covered her last time!” Y/N huffed, rubbing her arms absentmindedly, as the front of the bar didn’t have the best insolation and the night cold seeped in every time someone walked in or out. Turns out Steven called because Caroline’s phone was dead. “Sorry Y/N, she had a conflict in the last minute.” Y/N frowned. She was hoping that her schedule would work out to tag along with the boys on one leg of the tour. She had saved about two and a half weeks of vacation days, planned to use for the tour, and the vacation could be a little longer with Linda covering her projects for about a week. And she was hoping that she could surprise the boys with the news tonight. But it looks like life had other plans.

“Can someone else cover them for me?” she said, taking a few glances back at the table. The boys were animatedly chatting: Cal sporting a soft smile, Ash with a wild grin on his face and waving his arms around, Mikey rolling his eyes, though a smirk was plastered on his face, and Luke, head tilted back in laughter. She could even hear him all the way from where she was. Or it was that she could hear what his laughs would sound like in her head.

“Y/N? You there?” She blinked, focusing back on Caroline on the phone.

“Yeah, yeah sorry. What were you saying?” Caroline giggled on the other line, barely loud enough for her to hear in the bar.

“I’m pretty sure I can find someone. And even if they don’t, I’ll split up the work and pass it out with no exceptions. Babe, you’ve been working so hard for the past few months. This break, you deserve it.” Y/N broke into a smile, the tips of her fingers tingling in excitement.

“Thank youuu, I don’t even know what I owe you.”

“Staaaph, you don’t owe me anything. And I better hear all the stories that you’ll get up to on tour.”

“Oh you will,” she said, while being sidetracked with Luke back at the table. This time, he was taking a long drink of his beer, his adam’s apple bobbing and the strands of hair tucked behind his ears falling out. Damn he looked perfect, with his shiny hair, shiny boots, and even shinier personality. And all the feelings swirling in her belly continued to swirl around with no destination in sight.

“-and I bet you’re not even listening to me, staring at the blue-eyed beauty with heart-eyes. You know what, you should tell him. Cause if you keep waiting any longer, complainin’ to me, I’m gonna tear my hair out, then shove the both of you into a small closet and throw the key.”

“Hey!”

“What? Bet you he’s driving his friends crazy with his overwhelming emotions that he doesn’t know what to do with too.” Y/N scoffed. “But anyways, I should let you go. Have fun! And tell him before I do!” Then Caroline hung up on her before she could inch another word.

“Caroline-!” She looked at her phone, her co-worker’s face disappearing from the screen and her call history showing up. She scrolled a little, before finding another number.

“Hello?”

“Hey Sam, it’s me.” She crossed her arms, balancing the phone on her shoulder, to give herself some warmth.

“Well, I hope it’s you and not someone else with your number.” She rolled her eyes.

“Listen, I just got off the phone with Caroline, and Linda can’t cover for me. So be a dear and help out Caroline with my projects, please?” She heard a sigh, followed by a thump, which she assumed was him landing in his desk chair.

“Fine. But you owe me. Like food or something.”

“Yeah, yeah I know,” she said smiling. At the office, she was the only few people that can cook well, thus favors being repaid in food.

“Okay gotta go, Caroline is telling me you have a hot date.”

“Wait no! It’s not a date! It’s just with guy friends.”

“Surrrre. And you must be in love with at least one of them,” Sam scoffed.

“Well, that may be true but this is not the time!”

“Aha! Well have fuuuun!” And he hung up on her.

“I’m gonna kill them both,” Y/N muttered, as she walked back to the table.

“There you are!” Ashton said. The other three turned to face her; they all had dopey grins, minus Luke who was giving her mixed signals.

“It was work,” she frowned. Calum raised his brows, silently asking if there was something else going on.

“Nothing important, buuut,” she said, climbing back on the barstool while gripping Luke’s shoulder for balance. “I do have a surprise.”

“What is it?” Mikey said, his eyes widening.

“It’s nothing big, but I did have to work out the logistics with work, and also talk to your manager for the details and the permission to do so but-”

“Tell me, woman!” Ashton said, slamming a fist on the table. “Fuck, that hurt!” He gripped his fist with the other hand. Y/N bit her tongue from laughing.

“So that all means that I get to join you for tour!” The four of them froze, eyes wide, with some gaping mouths.

“You’re fucking joking,” Mikey said. She shook her head.

“Not joking. Confirmed with the boss man yesterday and with my boss earlier today. I get to tag along for the euro leg!” Next thing she knew, she was clobbered by four tall dudes with bear hugs.

“Can’t fucking believe it. You’re coming on tour,” Cal said in her ear.

“Y/N’S COMING ON TOUR!” Ashton nearly yelled in her ear.

“Ow, tone it down Ash,” Luke said. Well, more Luke’s ear than hers.

“Aw geez guys, thanks for the love and warmth, by the way, this bar is fucking cold, but I’m also losing oxygen.” They all reluctantly let go, sitting back in their chairs, except for Ash, who went to get more shots.

“Can’t believe it,” Luke mumbled in her ear. She scooted her chair closer to Luke, before tucking herself in his bomber jacket and wrapped her arms around his frame.

“What are you doing?” Luke said, giggling.

“It’s fucking cold,” she said, pulling herself closer to Luke, “and I’m the dumb idiot that wore a backless dress to the cold-ass bar.” He wrapped an arm around her shoulder, rubbing the other side not attached to him, pausing slightly when she mentioned the backless dress.

“At least you were sensible enough to wear a jacket,” he finally said.

“It’s your jacket, asshole.” Luke giggled, then taking the shot that Ash brought back to their table, handing her one as well.

“Here’s to the true 5SOS band’s Meet You There Tour!” Y/N twisted herself enough to face the group with her shot glass raised in the air.

“Cheers!” They all clinked their glasses, then swallowing the clear liquid down. The other three boys walked away from the table: to dance, to smoke, to get more drinks.

“You’re truly something,” Luke whispered into her ear, rubbing her back.

“Truly yours,” she said back. He stopped rubbing her back, staring into her eyes. She kept eye contact, while straightening up in her chair.

“What?” he said softly. “You mean it?” She rolled her eyes.

“I mean it,” she said, grabbing the lapels of his jacket, “and I love you.”

Luke’s gaze softened, tugging her closer to him.

“Wow, I just never-” he stopped, looking down at her, nearly in his lap and wearing his leather jacket. “I love you too.” She smiled, wrapping her arms around his neck.

“I’m glad, and I thought we were just friends.” Luke blushed, staring at the sun on her dress.

“I’m glad you made the first move.” Then she pulled him down for a kiss, their lips meeting halfway.

“About fucking time.” They both jumped, breaking apart.

Ash, Cal, and Mikey were standing in front of the table, all with smirks plastered on their faces.

“I hate you guys,” Y/N said, before reaching up to kiss Luke again. Once they broke apart, Luke smiled, gazing down at her.

“What?”

“I’ve been waiting for you, all this time.”

#5sosff #luke hemmings fic #luke hemmings x reader #5sos imagine #5sos fanfic #5sos fic #luke hemmings #luke 5sos #ashton irwin #luke hemmings fanfic #calum hood #michael clifford #5sos #5 seconds of summer #luke hemming imagines #luke hemmings imagine #damn this has been a PAIN to format and lowkey regretting the texting parts bc thosewere the worst part of formatting #also i feel like i'm missing something but oh well #content creation

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ducknewt · 6 years

Photo

ASAH | Four

Warnings: scars described and mentioned. and quick flashbacks.

There’s something about this gift shop, that makes Irene feel sentimental.

She’s not sure what exactly it is, or for what or where the weird inapposite sense of nostalgia comes from. But it’s something in the way the white to cream colored walls pull pictures out of her head. Skimming over things she’d rarely ever think about. Like cold days in the warm cover of a home, shielded under a blanket from the harsh grip of winter. A coffee in her hand, burning against her palm. Her fingers lighting up with energy, sparks jumping between her fingers, tip by tip…

The way the scent of the room fills her up on lilac and cinnamon memories. Leading her somewhere too deep in her head to remember the places, or remember the faces. It wrenches a sort of uncommon sensation of safety out from the pools of doubt she’d had on her since coming back into herself. It acts like no question to her what these feelings could be. What these little pieces of herself could possibly mean in relation to what she feels is something truly of foreign elements.

She has thought it over many times, and processed it carefully, and in doing so, found the conclusion to be that of something she’s always known, but chose to never process; home. She would say the feeling is. Catching on to her like a thread, wrapped on too tight around the snared together hollows of her ribcage. It makes her feels small, almost enervated; shrinking amongst the long and towering shelves around her. Like that of a small child lost in the sea of a wondrous crowd, ignorant and oblivious to her existence.

Irene and her friends, had took one last break before the last stretch of the city crept up on them. A tidy well kept together gift shop like the ones found off the sides of streets in big pre-eminent areas. The kind that people drive a hundred and some miles of bold blacktop roads and cross crowded cities for. All of them more of less, a subunit built in the favor of some fancy popularized destination. The regular old tourist traps, as some would say. Irene remembers the ones she used to come up on back in her teen days.

Back when her parents would take her out to an amusement park or a museum. She used to miss those days, standing outside in the balmy-temperate weather, moving about the town in her pink coat and rain-boots. This is something close to it, or rather, a small but sufficient substitute of those same places. Complete with tacky t-shirts, cotton-stuffed bears, and flashy keychains. They went in for a recharge—a bathroom break, really, but a break nonetheless. Something to replenish their stash, find something to eat, and something else Nadiya had said that needed to be taken care of.

Irene didn’t catch any of the scientist’s words. Too much noise stirring up in her skull, too much static; her head feels like a too big air balloon by the time she awakes. Airy and fit to burst. Stumbling and unfocused, and finding herself lying alone, frontside facing the ceiling in the backseat of some untagged vehicle was, if she could be honest with herself, quite the trip. She had only just awoke moments ago, eyes blinking, slow, then blown stone-wide as if a shock of revelation had came over her. She felt her body shake—a thousand watts of electric emotion surging through her legs, her arms, her fingers. Like mercurial twists, too brash to ignore. They call at her being, tug into her spirit; trying to ease her up and at ‘em before she even has the chance to register her own face. Her own eyes. Before she even has the chance to feel like herself and know it. A thing, so intangible, almost bleak in voice and mind, spoke to her. Shrieking as if in haste to reach out, to grab, to twist her from akinesia. Hurry now, you’re losing time! Get up. Look around. Hurry! Hurry! Hurry! And by the pull of those words, she reannounced herself to the world with a dull thud to leather and a hand to her heart.

She sat there for a moment, collecting all of what she knew and what she didn’t. And in comparing the thoughts, found that she knew less of what she did before than she did now. It was a scary thing, waking up in such in unfamiliar place and no face around to comfort her unease. But shortly after she sits up and makes her way towards the handle of the car door, it rips itself open. Pale daylight flooding from the outside and drinking in her form. A shadow stood in the space of the door, still, then reaching out and grasps her by the shoulder; warm, gentle, and she’d popped one of her eyes open to look.

All that had greeted her then was the dark and rich umber of Remy’s eyes. The polished dark skin of his shoulder and forearm bathing in blanched lines of sunlight. They studied each other for a moment. She watches the way his mouth shapes up; curled like that of a citrus leaf in summer and throws his whole body forward. She catches him, perceptibly aware of how different he looks. There’s a new cut on his shoulder, his hair a ragged but strewn together mess that looked combed half-assed in some places. He’s wearing new clothes and there’s a distinct but fairly faint smell of Dove soap on his skin.

They got together and talked for a moment. He tells her what he knows, and she refrains from asking too many questions. It is a lot to take in, but she manages, as best as she can. In situations like these, you have to be calm. A couple or so years in HR have taught her that. Though this however, is something entirely different from the regular pull of filing papers and organizing events on a deadline. She is not used to any of it, had never been and perhaps, never will be. But she has no reason to complain about it. At least not right now.

So the team splits up to give everybody time to do things. Seeing an opportunity to explore a bit in peace, Irene pokes her head into the nearby shop where here, she stands and allows herself that time to think. To process on what all Remy had said to her. She stops in one aisle, walking up to the shelf to press her fingers over a texturized pattern on a quilt. Looks at the tag line and just studies it for a long while. The quilt reminds her of all the times her moms had shown her how to sew. They always had many types like these hanging about the house, on the walls, and the floors. She can recall one of her oldest blankets from when she was only a baby, still lying folded somewhere in the old room she had before she moved away. It had an intricate style to it. Old caribou-hide, four-colored; the patches sewed heavy with symbols of her family, and the stitched in image of a bear sat embroidered in the center of it. Large. Daunting. Its eye turned elsewhere and never meeting Irene’s.

She wonders, if at all, about the kind of state her parents must be in. About how worried they must feel at this moment. Sitting at home, not knowing of what is happening to her. Of not knowing about their daughter being unknowingly wrapped up in something she hasn’t quite processed yet. Following behind two strange women and one man and knowing not when she will ever come home. Whether she will ever pick up a phone and call them.

She imagines, in some universe where they had known, one of her mothers, the softer shorter one, sitting on the couch, blowing her nose and dotting at her face with a napkin like an 18th century woman in grief. Red puffy-eyed and blubbering whilst her wife, taller, a more moon shaped look to her face and wine-dark eyes, sits with her and holds her steady. They probably don’t know much about what’s going on with her, and frankly it was probably for the best. Thank goodness and all that. They probably most likely disregarded the broadcast, and have hopefully believed that she’s fine. Or at the very least, unaware of what truly had transpired.

Either way, she probably has nothing to worry about. Probably.

She rounds the corner swiftly exiting out the aisle of old knick-knacks and padded down quilts. Nearby there is a rack of t-shirts and another full slender rack of keychains. She heads for those first, pretending like she’s here to shop and not to remedy herself from the woes of homesickness. She picks out a keychain, feeling over the smooth bauble on the end of the chain in her hand. A cute yellow cartoon bird with the state university stamped on its sweater, shouts with a text bubble over its head. The words “We’re just Peachy!” is printed on it in bright bold letters. Irene actually snorts at it. A gaudy bright, ridiculous thing in her hand.

“ Takin’ stock of our keychains there, are you?”

She visibly jumps, the keychain almost slips through the cracks in her fingers. She hadn’t heard anyone sneak up on her. Hadn’t heard nary a sound, or a voice, or the familiar pattern of footsteps behind her. Slowly and with deliberate motion, she turns around to eye the source of the voice. A man much older, fraying light brown hair that receded past the line of his forehead, stood with a box held up and in front of his chest. A wide and generous face greeted Irene as she took one step back, eyeing him, offhandedly making notice of his name-tag that’s half-way obscured by the box in his hands. Charles.

“ Each one is handmade. Personally designed and tailored for everyone who’s into their state pride.”

Irene blinks, a beat. Somewhere between the time away from the fellowship and the wake-up call she had recently in the car, she forgot her own social etiquettes.

“ Oh. That’s nice.”

The man smiles, then adjusts the box in his hands to put it down on the floor. “ Yep. You know, the missus spent a lot of time putting most of it together.” He says, quite proudly, and puts his arms out akimbo eyeing the shelves. “ She’s the storekeep of this place. Everything you see here, is pretty much of her own design.”

Irene tries to meet the smile, firm but faithless. Truthfully she wasn’t looking for a conversation at the moment, but she was never one to turn people away from her. There was always that sort of friendly attraction she held about her, the kind that drove people in like bees to flowers. An aspect, she’s grateful hasn’t done her in yet. Her eyes fall beyond the man’s head, eyeing a rack of 50% off snow-globes sequestered off to a corner of the shop.

“ Really?” She says, in a voice she hopes is convincing. “ That’s interesting.”

Charles nods. “ Yeah, spent a whole fortune on this place. But the money comes in well so can’t complain…” Then a beat, and he turns to her. The smile still there. “So, is there anything in particular that you need or are lookin’ for around here? I know we got tons of stuff lying around and what not but…”

“Oh! No!” Irene quickly holds up her hand, shaking her head. “ No, nothing at all. I was jus—looking. Just looking around.”

Charles seems to understand, his mouth pulling firm in a line as he slowly nods. “Well if you’re just looking, then I guess I should get back to my business.”

He shows off a crooked smile, then leans down to pick the box off the waxed tiles. In the seconds he does, Irene searches the floor between her feet, avoiding his gaze.

“ If you’re in need of anything, Barbara’s always happy to sell or help if needed.”

He turns away from her and walks back to round another. Irene releases a brief sigh of relief, forcing the ache in her shoulders to calm a bit. Gods, when has she gotten so anxious? All this unnecessary pressure around her chest and hands has made her feel caged somehow. Made her feel like she was unable to speak or meet eyes or do much of anything at all.

She continues to walk on until she spies a table with three serve-yourself coffee makers off in the corner. Thinks on it, and decides to go pour herself a cup. One little drink of bad caffeine couldn’t hurt for a bit right?

There’s a little sign on one of them that reads in badly typed comic sans: TRY OUR BREW! All CUSTOMERS WELCOME! Topped with a gimmicky stock photo rendition of an emoji holding its own cup of joe. Smiling at that, she goes for a cup. They’re set away on an inconveniently high shelf for her height, so in reaching for one, she’s almost leaning over the table. White cloth sliding against her loose orange button-up. She goes to grab for a lid, when her elbow knocks with the side of the percolator, and the still healing scar on her forearm pulses with an anchor-deep ache she hasn’t taken notice of until the affronted muscles cried out, blistering, and she flinches—

It is then that she starts to become signally, fully, unmistakably aware of the bruise that flowers her elbow. The discoloring of skin around the oval scab that draws a line from the mountain out her joint to the bend under her upper arm. She stills for a moment, eyeing it carefully. Studying it odd as if it had jumped onto her skin somehow; a foreign object she had missed. Then—

It’s quick, like a flash. Something comes back to her in her head. Something distant, and off centered, marked by the presence of haze, and Irene sees herself somewhere else. Bigger, brash and much larger than life in a different shop, in a different time. A crash, something like loud blistering heat cutting at the tough skin of her arm. A shout, a voice so tinny and small; a face like a red beast holding something slick like smooth metal in its hands, she feels an odd heart beat thudding loud in her chest. Then white lights, then running.

Irene catches herself, her fingers forgetting the cup to grab at the table cloth. Gripping hard and tense. One of her hands comes up to rub at her face, staring into the floor, bewildered. What the fuck was that?

"You’ll get yourself worked up if you think about it too much."

Irene pauses, shoots her head up, looking around for anybody nearby. There’s no one in ear-shot of her. She’s by herself.

“ Whatever it is you are trying to do…” Kardala warns, from someplace within her. Irene can feel her threads of being pull at someplace warm and desperate, burning through her ribcage as she stands more straight. “Stop. You will only hurt yourself.”

“ Where did this scar come from?” She asks. Speaking in mind, because she doesn’t like the idea of having a verbal conversation with her other self in public.

Kardala doesn’t say a word, her silence muddled out by the noise of the work in the shop. It leaves Irene unnerved, her eyes squinting. “ Do you?”

“Ask the Demon.” Kardala simply says.

A weird answer, and she doesn’t like it. She makes it sound like it’s some well-kept secret. Irene can feel a scoff coming over her, hear it actually leave her mouth and turns her head to look towards the wall where the bathrooms stood. Nadiya had took Mary off in there to take care of something she didn’t quite explain to her when they went. The most she got as an answer was something along the lines of a “ minor check-up” and nothing else. Irene didn’t really know what that meant, but she didn’t bother to press for answers. Too caught up in her head to ask.

“ You know, it’s not nice to call people demons.”

“ But is she not one? Her abilities to hide emotion is something of an enormous feat I have yet to understand.

“That’s not true at all and you know it. She’s a nice girl who’s just hasn’t learned how to open up yet. You shouldn’t label her as emotionless just cause she chooses not to show out.”

“Hm. It is not my qualm if you choose to believe that, but I know the truth and I still stand by my words. Her extraordinary abilities are not of human origin.”

She makes a face, deciding from that, to turn away from the conversation. She goes for her discarded cup and begins filling it up, absentmindedly thinking back to her scar. She feels a bit warm in the forehead, taking a napkin up and dabbing the along her hairline, she sighs. Suddenly tired.

“ My head hurts.”

“ There is medication in the car. Kardala says, “You should take some. Your headaches are likely due from hunger. The little man has offered to go look for some food while the demon and the Sage woman tend to their wounds.”

“Wounds?” Irene perks at that, half-way through squeezing the lid on her cup. She looks back to the percolators. A line of concern drawing to her forehead. “ What happened?”

“ Something not good.”

“ Like what?”

After a moment, when the goddess doesn’t answer, Irene persists.

“ It would be wise to ask the demon about it.”

“ Why? Why can’t you just tell me?”

The sound of a door screeches open a few feet away from the back of the store. Out the corner of her eye, Irene spies the familiar form of Nadiya and Mary round the corner and walk out. She watches them maneuver through basket stands of flowers and shelves of old Russian dolls before they reach the storekeep. Nadiya passes something into the storekeep’s hands, whose eyes are wild on Mary throughout the entire exchange. Nadiya says some words and the woman behind the counter just nods and waves, tacking on some friendly have a nice day platitude as they walked off.

As the two women come closer, Irene gets a glimpse of their figures, and she can kinda see why the storekeep was so bewildered. Mary, despite how clean and kempt up her washed face looks, is a shaky nervous thing standing beside Nadiya. A blown apart mess in her too loose clothing. The collar of her shirt is wet, buttons done up crooked, unruly; the neck hole exposing some of her collar bone. The blotched red coloring of her cheeks, her shirt—chin, neck. Nadiya has wrinkles in her clothes, dark tired moons etch their home between the hills of her eyes and cheek bone. Their gaunt hands held together, one shaking and one firm, and despite what all cleanliness they had to salvage, Irene thinks to herself, they somehow look worse than they did walking in.

They say some words to each other, then Mary parts, sporting a small smile on her lips when Irene’s and her eyes meet. She watches the red head go, and Nadiya steps closer.

“ Hey.” Nadiya addresses, eyeing up Irene. “ You all set to go?”

Irene tries to speak, but finds her words are stuck to the back of her throat, she simply nods her head. Swallowing stiffly.

Ha! Thinks Kardala, a laugh too loud, it rattles against Irene’s teeth. You can’t even ask her!

Hush.

“ Great.” There’s a patient, but hard tired line to Nadiya’s voice, one Irene can’t help but notice. She remembers Remy telling her about how Nadiya spent most of her time on this trip driving them everywhere and never sleeping for more than an hour, and something in her chest itches.

Nadiya looks to the cup in Irene’s hands, a beat. “ Grab me a cup?”

“ Sure.” She blurts out, without even asking. “What kind?”

“Black. Two shots of cream if they have any.”

A simple task, Irene can handle that. She can handle pretty much anything besides an aggravated goddess riding shotgun in her body. She starts to turn back just as Nadiya pulls two crumpled fives out from the confounds of her pockets.

“ Here, for the coffee in case a cup isn’t free. And, if you’re feeling up for a snack from here instead of waiting on Remy.”She passes it to Irene than steps back. In the middle of watching Irene un-crumple the bills, she asks. “ Hey, are you alright?”

Irene looks up surprised. “ Uh, yeah. I’m fine. I’m okay.”

Nadiya nods, but there’s hesitance there, her brows creasing as she looks to the floor then back to Irene. “ Okay, just making sure.” She says, “See you outside?”

“ Yeah. See you.”

Nadiya makes for the door, the bell at the top chiming as she leaves the shorter woman behind to check up on the other two who are no doubt still waiting outside. And here Irene stands in the middle of this stuffy gift-shop. One coffee sitting in the palm of her shaking hand and repeats those same words in her head. It feels nice, proper somehow. Even if it’s not quite the right words. She still feels somehow at peace with it. A small smile comes over her as she fixes up her friend’s drink.

I’m okay.”

She feels Kardala somewhere swimming in her chest. Soft aura filing up the mountain of her ribcage and to the bridge of her neck in a warmth so real, so desperate, she almost chokes; the lid in her hand squished hazardly on the cup in reaction. She imagines hands where they are bones. Imagines breathing where there is a heartbeat, and knows that Kardala feels the same.

We are. We’re okay. Kardala booms, a thundering long shudder through Irene and she almost laughs, wiping at her face, doesn’t realize she’s crying.

And right she thinks.

They’re okay.

Somewhere between Ashville and the long winding road to Atlanta, Irene and Nadiya made the switch. It took a lot of begging, and a lot of Irene’s patient tender words and soft reasonings to wear down the stubborn wall that was Nadiya’s pride and her strict driving rules. Irene thinks that it’s for the best and that Nadiya deserves to have some rest for once. She’s been putting in so much of the work, it only seems fair that one or two of them pitch in to help every once in a while. Remy was actually surprised that Irene managed to wear down the wall where he had only scratched the surface with Nadiya. But was happy nonetheless; anything that gets her butt out of the driver’s seat is a fine solution to him. Seeing no complaints and took to the back seat where he and Mary hung out.

Irene didn’t mind, it was just a nice way to recollect herself. Gather her thoughts and maybe get a better handle again on her motor skills since it’s been so long since she’s come back from—well, that. She doesn’t really have a word for what that place is, but its sticky and cramped and awfully not as cold as she would have pictured it to be. Maybe with more room, and a little bit of light. If she could build that place to her liking, she would have added all sorts of nice things to mend it into something of a second home. To which, in a way, sounds ridiculous because she’s pretty sure Kardala resonates there? Or at least she does when Irene’s in the driver’s seat. Steering the reigns of her body all the way, relishing in her control.

It’s been a quiet drive so far, they’re driving fast highway side; buildings mixed in the splash green of trees, blurring past.

Nadiya is in the passenger seat, quiet, elbow locked with the side of the window. Her chin meeting the coarse palm of her hand, looking outward. While the other two in the back, lie out and sleep the last few hours of their trip away. There’s crumpled paper of sandwich wraps and the sweet bitter smell of three-hour old coffee cups sitting like a barrier between Nadiya and Irene.

“ So where are we going again?”

“ We’re heading to a place called Huntington Hills.” Nadiya sighs. She’s put her hair up in a tight bun. The fixture of sunlight outside the window hones in on the dome of it, a shiny blotch of bitter-autumn red. “ It’s a couple of miles away from the main city.

“ Huntington Hills…”

“Yeah. Remy’s place. It’s not that far.”

Right. Irene thinks, because she should’ve remember that. “And when did we all plan this?”

Nadiya look over to her, stares, then turns back to her window. “ Back a couple of days. We were staying at a hotel at the time, and were trying to figure out on where to go from there.”

Right. Right.

“Right.” Irene slows, searching the side mirror for incoming cars, then turns on her blinker, changing lanes. Right.

“Did no one like, debrief you on this? Or…” Nadiya starts, she’s sitting up in her seat now. Turned firmly away from the window and Irene wishes her voice wasn’t so sharp-tipped, wasn’t so stripped of mildness.

“No, I did, I just. Swam over most of the details.” She says. It’s not the perfect answer, and it don’t make a lot of sense, but its the only excuse she thinks Nadiya can weather over ‘My mind blanked and I zoned out.’ Digging her fingers deep into the shell of the wheel, coughs just so she can get her words up. “ Little by little it’s coming to me. But it wasn’t like I didn’t have help.”

She was right though, Nadiya doesn’t look like she believes those words. But all she does is hum curtly , like that acts as a response, nodding some. If Irene could turn and look at her in this moment, she would. But she refrains. They’re in the car right now, and she’s driving, and turning her eyes away from the wheel is a dangerous thing, something she would never do. Because she’s a good driver, and knows not to take her eyes off the road. Because she’s that all-star samaritan that follows the rules and keeps things centered. A neat and tidy woman; all wool and a yard wide. She would never. Absolutely she would never.

And after what feels like a long breath of silence, Nadiya shifts in her seat, settling backward. “ Kardala I assume?”

“ Somewhat, there’s still some things she hasn’t told me. But I’ve asked Remy and figured it out, put two and two together and all that. But it was a lot to take in. She says, “and some things were a lot harder to process than others but I took it all in stride…”

“ I’m surprised she told you anything at all. Given how much she hates being ‘imprisoned’ in you.” Nadiya points out, “I would think communications on your end would be moot.”

Irene’s mouth curls, with a laugh under her breath. Low and warbly. “ I used to think the same myself. Even though we have our differences, we still try to navigate ways to make things more amicable between us, despite our situation.”

“ And is it working?”

Irene takes a beat to respond. Outside, a bright green-blur of a sign buzzes past them. “ I don’t think so.”

Nadiya sighs at that, expectant. “ She’s a brash woman—er, goddess.” She shrugs, not sure if she should be using one or the other. “ Has she always been in you? Or was it just—”

Nadiya lifts her arm up and unrolls a sleeve. Points to it. Suggesting towards the STEM-plants.

“ No. I mean she was, but. She wasn’t as vocal as she was back before.”

“ Before…?”

“ When I was little. A long time ago, and maybe even before that.” She laughs, it’s short and startled, but its a laugh all the same. Then brings it back down, her shoulders forming hills. “ During those long years, I always felt like I wasn’t by myself. Like there was a shadow watching over me. The feeling never escaped, even as I grew older. In fact, I think it got worse.”

Most of that, from what she knows is the truth. Even if in a way, she can��t quite remember when and where those feelings came from, where that shadow first appeared. But she knows without a shadow of a doubt that it’s always been with her. This small once intangible feeling she’d get from the aching hole in her chest.

There was always something disconcertingly off about the way her body clenched at the first signs of thunder. The way the hairs on the back of her head always stood out; clear, vibrating with a life that was not her own. And there was something to be said about the way she felt stretched too thin in her own body. Like there was a thing within her. Burrowed deep in the shape of her bones, churning, blossoming into something with hard lines and jagged angles. A form that felt extended down; ancient in the ways her mothers used to tell her stories about gods and the people of the north. Bold in the ways she felt when she danced in rain, pink boots stomping dirty side-walk puddles, relishing in its bath. The way her veins thrummed with the existence of lightning, and snow, wind and rumbling thunder. A raging, unforgivably volatile thing. Menacing but alive.

“ Wow.” Nadiya says, breaking up the silence. “ I never knew it went that deep.”

No one knew. Irene thinks. Almost says.

When the stretch of the city of the finally came into view, they rolled at at brisk, less speeding pace. The sun rolling over the dome of the city’s skyline; light essentiates its form. Fleshing out the outlines, and drawing out the shadows.

They make it to a stoplight at the first left turn. The map on the dashboard skids, and Nadiya pulls it into her hands to read the street names. In that time, Irene is thankful for this moment of peace, for this moment of brief respite. She feels like she’s opened a dam up, words flooding out through rubber-slick lips, and yet somehow it feels like she’s only spilt a drop of who she is. Of what she feels she is, and more.

She scratches at her shirt, at the orange fabric that rubs uncomfortably against her neck. Wishing, not for the first time, that she had grabbed a spare set of clothing from her locker before fleeing on this trip. Then realizing quickly, how ridiculous that thought was, fingers pausing stiff; a nervous twitch.

It feels wrong to mourn something as trivial as a pair of sweats when there is so much else to worry about, but thinking about the Fellowship, after what all Remy had told her, and all the wreckage they left behind makes her chest tight.

And If she thinks of it for too long, she’ll start to get moody and then—

Well, maybe it was easier pretending she had less to worry about than. Better to be worried about a pair of pants than to think about a whole berg sucked into the ocean. Then it can’t be so overwhelming.

And yet—

“ What music station is this?” Nadiya asks over the static talk of the radio, Twisting quick through stations. A blubber of smooth tawny voices of southern era, mixes in with the raw electric cries of rockstars. There’s this brief flicker of emotion out of Nadiya, like heat lightning, her brows furrowing as she scrambles for tunes. She's got this funny look on her face. Thin lips pursed and eyes look built with a bowstring tension in the dark city lights. And Irene gets this shaky feeling in her gut, that she wasn’t the only one aching for a consolation.

“ Country.”

Nadiya’s nose bunches up. “ Gross.”

“ You don’t like country?’

“ Never did, it was always so weird. Artists singing about trackers and cheatin’ husbands and honky tonk? Ugh, spare me…”

Irene laughs good-naturedly and her worry ebbs. “ Not even Jolene, by Dolly Parton?”

There’s a beat of silence between them, almost for a whole minute as the light turns green and Irene drives off.

“Alright.” Nadiya says, “You got me beat there.” Irene smiles—something bright, and Nadiya ducks her head sheepishly.

The reaction is enough to send Irene guffawing, so much so, she almost loses control of the wheel.

#my writing

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